“Uhhgh… thank Celestia…” Twilight muttered to herself, jabbing another forkful of room-temperature sauerkraut out of the can. “Er, thanks, Celestia.” The hungover Princess said to her old mentor. “When… when did we get to your new Manehattan house?” She chomped down some more cabbage, looking around the living room furnished only with a couch for now. The plan was to sleep here the morning after the meeting took place, the movers on their way to bring the rest of her possessions. Twilight gulped, washing down her breakfast with an iced caramel macchiato from Marebucks… also purchased at an unknown time.

Celestia blew on her tea gently before she took a dainty sip, careful not to spill it on her pink bathrobe and using a hoof to pull her strands of pink mane away from the cup. After some more bites of sauerkraut, Twilight continued- “You know, Leona taught me this hangover cure. It was after my 23rd birthday- she caught me on the way home from… well, from the bench I woke up on.” She giggled daintily, “Man, those parties used to get wild. Remember when-”

“Twilight… please.” Celestia half-muttered, causing Twilight to feel a sting in her chest. “We need to talk about what happened last night- don’t put it off.” She hated to see her student suffering like this- but at the same time, she needed to ensure she’s aware of what she did last night. Twilight groaned in annoyance, rubbing her temples. “We all eventually found out you were drinking. And I just want you to know, not one of us thinks less of you for it. Not even Leona had an insult to speak.” Her student just chuckled mirthlessly and rolled her eyes.

“So they were nice enough to keep their mouths shut. That’s comforting.” She said with a flat deadpan, leaning into her side of the couch and sipping her coffee. Celestia moved to put a hoof to her shoulder, only for Twilight to swat it away as she stood up; her paper coffee-cup was gently set onto the floor near the couch as her magic summoned a pint-bottle of vodka.

“Twilight Sparkle!” Celestia near-jumped out of her seat to approach her student, desperate to keep her from having a drink. “Please- why do you feel the need to drink? I can’t stop you, but at least take a second to think!” Twilight faced away from her, so she hung her hooves around her shoulders and wrapped her student in her wings, leaning into her side. Her student paused briefly, cringing as she unintentionally got a whiff of vodka and slamming the cork shut with a huff. “Thank you, Twilight.” While she had a proud smile, her student only had a scowl as she set the bottle on the ground.

“Why do I feel the need to drink? I can barely think of a reason why I shouldn’t have a drink. And you wanna know how I feel?” She asked, Celestia appearing unfazed by the anger in her students' voice. She stepped back to give her room, sitting on the couch and returning to her tea- almost like a reflex in response to her students' overboiling rage. “I’ve been so busy with this Princess job that I can’t even remember the last time I’ve sat down to read a decent book! One that isn’t about law, or math, or even science these days!” Celestia disguised her shock behind a sip of tea, allowing Twilight to vent and pace the hardwood floor unimpeded. “The closest thing I can get to enjoying a book is sitting down with a stiff drink, reading cheap pulp magazines for the short stories before bed!” She huffed and crossed her arms, looking off to the side of the room. “I… I feel like that’s all I have to look forward to some days.” She muttered with a growl, turning to ask- “So why shouldn’t I have a drink? Why should I carry that… that…” She stopped, looking side to side, unsure of where she was taking this.

Celestia took another sip of tea; it was her mentor’s way of telling her student that… that was the wrong answer, so to speak. Silently telling her- Try again, Twilight. You and I both know that’s not it. “How do you think it feels…” She grumbled, looking downward in frustration. She looked up with fury in her eyes- “Knowing I’ve been played like a fucking moron!?” She yelled, stomping around the room in an oval-track shape. “I was constantly blindsided with nonsense from the nobility, barely able to leave Canterlot!” She huffed, grabbing her coffee with her magic and popping the lid off to chug it. She wiped the coffee off her chin by simply wiping her arm across it and said- “We were writing policy on studies that were barely proven- and I believed them because I didn’t have the time to do the fact checking!” She sat down on the floor, burying her face in her hooves. “And Gallus… he means well but he can just be… be… ugh!” She stood up and trudged over to the couch. “I was on the receiving end of a coordinated attack to end the Crown’s Sovereignty purely for greedy purposes; and I was fucking clueless!” She hopped onto the cushion, leaning into Celestia’s side and enjoying the wing being wrapped around her back.

“We were all fooled, Twilight.” she spoke, her student daintily sipping her iced coffee with a tired look in her eyes. “My doctor had me convinced that I was sick, that I needed constant doses of Ketalor just to live. Luna found out that… the executive behind that drug company knew exactly how that would affect me.” Twilight knew better than to ask how Luna… ‘discovered’ that information. “And in my absence, the upper classes have utterly failed to demonstrate the respect you deserve.” Looking up, Twi realized that her mentor stared forward with a look of cold fury in her eyes. “My Sister is daring; but her hesitancy to display any political power greater than you or myself has made her… less bold than she used to be, it seems.” Another casual sip of tea, and Celestia couldn’t help but smirk; a look that made her student finally crack a smile.

“You have a plan, don’t you?” Twily asked, finishing her coffee and leaning against her side cushion to talk face-to face casually. On the opposite side of the couch, Celestia leaned into her side and rested an arm over the back to face her student. “Don’t give me any of that have faith, my dear student-stuff either!” The two shared a brief giggle at her quip, while Celestia gave a half-shrug.

“The first step is going to be releasing those corporate executives with… an offer they won’t refuse. Luna will take care of that.” She looked off to the side in thought, rubbing her chin. “Reintegrating the unnecessary prison populations can be handled by local committees of paid volunteers, looked over by royal agents; supplementing the crop lost from selling off the land of these old prison-farms will be handled clandestinely by Leona.” She mused to herself in thought casually, sparing Twilight’s hungover brain the intimate details she normally desired. “Do you remember Mrs. Raven Inkwell? How she went into retirement a few years back?” Twilight’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Raven? Poor mare burnt herself out so bad trying to help me that she ended up quitting without notice; I let her keep her pension since she earned it, and I didn’t blame her for wanting to jump ship.” Twilight floated her can of sauerkraut over and jabbed another forkful. “I… I may have snapped at her unfairly after… well, after a couple drinks.” she rubbed her arm sheepishly as she enjoyed her room-temperature fermented cabbage… making Celestia subconsciously turn her nose up. “I know this stuff smells bad, but my goodness the sodium turns this into an elixir of life.” She leaned back to enjoy her cabbage, waiting for Celestia to continue.

“Raven Inkwell was, aside from being my secretary… the best damn ghostwriter for speeches I’ve ever employed.” Twilight’s head shot over with a look of surprise; her mentor laughed heartily, her magic summoning a cigarette and lighting it. “Don’t get me wrong, I always enjoy the thrill of an extemporaneous speech; but I’ve noticed that… that I tend to repeat myself a lot when speaking from my own thoughts all the time.” her student rubbed her chin with a hoof in thought as she enjoyed more cabbage. “And Raven could write different speeches that sounded like they came from different authors; If every speech is unique, it makes local populaces feel… special. Heard, and seen. Raven could translate the popular woes of local ponies into a heartfelt speech beautifully… and she loved that aspect of her job.” Celestia gave her a wide grin. “No shame in relying on the help of others to push a narrative… no?” Slowly… Twilight was realizing what their plan was gonna look like.

“We need to build a rapport with the local communities.” Twilight figured out, turning to her mentor with a grin. “We might have to move or… or even cancel the elections… Fine. Whatever it takes to start fixing things.” setting the can off to the side, she looked down with a sigh. “Did I ever answer your original question?” She asked, changing the subject back to alcohol. Her mentor just shrugged.

“That’s not something I can answer myself. Maybe try asking yourself another question, perhaps?” She suggested, puffing on the cigarette that smelled… oddly familiar to Twilight. “Ask yourself, when was the last time you truly enjoyed yourself while you were drinking?” her student opened her mouth to reply, only to close it and look forward. She took in a deep breath and let out an airy sigh.

“When did you start smoking Mareboros?” Twilight asked casually, causing her mentor to do a subtle double-take. “I only know the smell because those are Leona’s favorite.” With a sly grin and fully aware of Cadence’s whispered rumor, she asked- “Weren’t you smoking a pipe at dinner last night?” Celestia’s poker face had been practiced and honed over millenia- she just shrugged with a casual grin.

“I shared one with Leona this morning- It’s actually not bad, for a pre-roll.” She mused calmly as she smoked her cigarette. Pausing briefly in thought, she giggled- “Or maybe pre-rolls have gotten better in general? And not to mention, Phil Marino was actually a Fertilian-Equestrian immigrant when he started his tobacco company!” That is, the little PM crest logo on the iconic red Mareboro pack was in reference to him; his heritage was referenced subtly with a pony and a griffon depicted in a heraldic style, leaning against the PM. “I… I’m stalling. I’m sorry.” She admitted, looking away from her student. “You need to be aware of the deal we struck with the Syndicate.” She spoke flatly, almost like she was unsure how to proceed.

“Right, right- how’d that go?” She asked, rubbing her chin with her wing. “The… the…” But silence from her teacher made her crane her neck slowly towards her. “What’s the plan with the dragons? Please don’t tell me-” But the sad look in Celestia’s eyes all but confirmed it.

“It is what it is. May the dragons be her cross to bear from now on.” She spoke flatly while staring at the ground. “It won’t be all of them; the older, more brutish ones will be the largest targets while the intelligent among them will save themselves.” Despite her internal disgust and anger, Twilight stayed next to her old mentor. “Did I ever tell you about the day Dragonlord Torch was crowned? He was a teenager back then; given the throne after infighting killed his father, he planned on going the path of all-out war and plunder.” After a few moments of silence, Twilight scoffed in outward repulsion; Celestia couldn’t keep the look of surprise off her face as her student jumped off the couch, meeting her worried look with a glare.

“How the fuck can I look Spike in the eye anymore, Celestia?” She yelled, tears in her eyes. “How can I look my baby brother in the eye…” Her voice began to crack while Celestia put a hoof to her muzzle. “Knowing that I all but sanctioned a genocide because I was too drunk to stop it!” She slammed her hoof down, tears dripping off her cheeks. “These dragons aren’t just a statistic- these are real, living people we’re talking about wiping off the face of Equus! Even if we leave some alive, how will they feel!?” Gritting her teeth, she couldn’t take it anymore. “HOW THE FUCK DO YOU THINK SPIKE WILL FEEL!?” She snapped, Celestia at a loss how to respond.

She simply hung her head in shame. “I… I don’t know.”

—

Joey Pasticcione entered the stone-carved library with an impressed look in his eye; his dark-green army waistcoat and round-brimmed sergeants hat were hung on the standing rack, utterly contrasting the white-marbled bricks that made up the walls, further so by the ornately carved blackstone bookshelves that made up the Changeling Hive’s sole library. He wore only his holster- hanging from his shoulder, secured around his barrel and hiding his gun only with a snap-button. It was covered in smaller pockets, holding individual components to a cleaning kit, tiny vial of sperm-oil included… for some reason, like that'll ever be enough to clean a gun in the field.

Surrounding the wide reception area on the ground floor were rows of tall bookshelves with plenty of benches, tables, couches, chairs, and any other amenities the inhabitants of the hive may enjoy. Each row had ornate stone water fountains next to beautiful stone cabinetry with a sink and a coffee maker on top. The two floors above were accessed by the twin spiral staircases in each corner of the room, leading to the upper mezzanine levels which… presumably held more books, and were held up by thick, sturdy columns and stabilized with florally-carved arches in between… but perhaps the most unique about this library was its librarian.

Joey matched the lanky purple dragon's look of mild surprise with a confident smirk. Readjusting the fins that ran down his head, centering his rolling chair and sitting up politely behind his desk, he spoke in a smooth, deep voice- “Welcome to the Book Hoard. I’m Spike, what can I do for you?” His stature forced him to look down on Joey- but the dragon’s inviting smirk distracted the griffon from the subconscious symbolism… but not the creeping fear of standing armed with only a pistol before the planet’s apex predator of ancient legend; a creeping fear slowly being stamped out with friendly conversation.

“My name’s Joey. I’m interested in books about… well, about changelings. Culturally and societally, especially…” Rubbing the back of his neck, he looked off to the side. “Am I allowed to borrow books here?” He glanced in the dragon's eyes and grinned when he saw Spike nodding rapidly, hearing the shuffling of paperwork. “Library card, I assume?” He asked, pulling up a chair to take a seat on the other side of the desk.

“Library card, indeed, Joey!” On a premade card, Spike signed his own name at the top with an old-fashioned quill, dipped in ink. “As for the books you’re interested in, I’d be more than happy to take you to a few personal recommendations.” Joey nodded patiently as Spike continued- “As part of the standard procedure, there’s a few rules I want to go over. Feel free to ask any questions! You’re actually the first griffon from that camp to show interest in local culture, you know that?” He asked, and Joey leaned back in the soft lobby chair.

“Technically, that’s not true; I’m the first griffon to show interest in the local changeling culture outside of the brothels.” He quipped with a grin, Spike unable to resist snorting a puff of smoke before bursting into giggles. “Truthfully, I only just arrived here… and I’m a little surprised, simply because of how… how odd changeling culture appears, not to disparage them in any way; changeling studies just isn’t really… taught in the griffonian educational system.” He shrugged finally, meeting Spikes gaze casually- “Tell me the rules and where to sign my name; I’ve got all afternoon to myself here.” The dragon nodded with a wide grin, glancing between Joey and a small booklet he had on his desk as he spoke-

“The normal library rules apply, of course; in so many words, be mindful of the space and how those around you might feel. This building is massive, so quiet radio’s are permitted; earphones are more heavily encouraged, though.” The griffon nodded in understanding, being well familiar with these standard rules of common-fucking-courtesy. “Food and drink are permitted, just be careful and clean up any spills; each refreshment counter has a stock of cleaning supplies, and each aisle has a trash bin in the front, middle, and back. Feel free to check the counters out whenever- each one has a reorder form on a clipboard for when things start running low; It’s got salt, pepper, sugar, napkins, what have you. Silverware is the only thing you might need to supply yourself; other than that, things rarely go out of stock- especially not the coffee or the sugar.” Joey couldn’t help but chuckle-

“There’s a lot of trust gluing this system together, huh?” Spike giggled and nodded as he went on-

“Trust in your fellow Hivemates is a common theme amongst the Changelings, indeed.” Spike skimmed through the rule booklet a moment before looking back to him- “As long as you understand that fact, you understand 99 percent of the rules already. Other things of note are the third-mezzanine outdoor balconies, which are smoking areas… and on that same floor is a gated-off aisle with the… naughty stuff.” Joey blinked in mild surprise as Spike chuckled- “Those books all have an opaque yellow cover on them you have to take off to read. You uh… you don’t need to sign those ones out.” The yellow cover on the books served the same purpose as a brown paper bag on a bottle of booze- both a thing of discretion and a signifier of its own contents.

“Just curious-” Joey asked, glancing upward and glimpsing an older changeling guiding a colorful group of nymphs in flight across the above mezzanine. “Are these books all local, or are they sourced from abroad?” He asked, wondering how full the library truly was. Spike chuckled as the two glanced back into eachothers eyes.

“Truthfully, a large portion of this collection was once part of my own private collection, all from my own personal travels, but…” He glanced off to the side with a shrug- “I just got bored of wandering; I’m the head-librarian now. Most of our books come from changeling agents abroad who trade services for books and other goods… or from more local commerce.” Spike then slid a pamphlet across his desk towards Joey- “Every month we take all the new books and set them out like a yard-sale; borrow whatever books interest you for up to a month, and the only stipulation is that you return the books as soon as you’re done with them. It just makes the books easier to sort when they trickle in, all while making it easier to see what books are new. Got it?” Reading the pamphlet over as Spike explained, he folded it up and stuck it in his holster’s waistband; he dare not bare his claws before the dragon, resisting the urge to reveal his handgun to use its holster as a pocket.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Anything else I should know?” He asked simply as Spike slid his card over, pointing at the spot to sign. “Joey Pasticcione… I know the drill- I’ll be careful not to lose it.” He said casually.

Snap!

He froze, realizing that he just thoughtlessly clicked his holster open; not wanting to just stand there with an open holster, he flicked the flap open and slipped his card in. “If that’s settled… what’s the borrowing policy?” He asked casually, taking a deep breath and calming down as he heard Spike chuckle.

“One week- Sunday is considered afterhours, so you’ll need a card to get in. Staff is off sunday, so you can borrow or bring back books any other day of the week- daylight hours posted out front.” The dragon stood up slowly, and Joey did the same casually. “Late fees are negotiable, but I know your basecamps store provides plenty of things to barter. I encourage you to return your books late; I’d love to add more books from the Syndicate to my Hoard!” Spike joked, eliciting a genuine cackle from Joey.

“You’re tellin’ me that slips of paper with my boss and her friend’s faces printed on ‘em won’t go very far ‘round here? Say it ain’t so!” He joked in return, somewhat feeling at ease as he realized how much shorter Spike stood, due to his draconic slouch. “We flyin’ up?” He asked, and the smooth-scaled dragon gave him a nod… upon seeing the dragon’s full body, Joey felt a little embarrassed how scared he felt earlier.

As the two flew up to the second floor wordlessly, Joey came to the realization; the mezzanine wasn’t perfectly round, being made up of thin stone slabs, appearing to interlock with the pillars, lining the flat edges as a fence… and another thing Joey realized, was that Spike was just a teenage dragon, as opposed to a full-on adult, deduced by his full-body size. As they landed on the upper mezzanine, the dragon stood on his toes to reach a book above his standing head-height. “There we go!” He muttered as he yanked the book out from a row of exact copies, his voice sounding much … softer than it did sitting at the desk. Less deep-sounding, as though the dragon had been speaking in a ‘professionalized’ voice up until now.

“Beyond the Nymph’s Cocoon is, in my opinion, the most insightful look into how greater-changeling society functions with lots of graphics and other visual aid included.” Despite the somewhat dry subject matter, the dragon spoke with a genuine passion and enthusiasm that impressed the griffon visitor. “It’s meant for nymphs preparing to cocoon- not only is it an interesting look into the changelings unique biology and lifecycles, it also explains the many ways in which changelings live and view life in The Hive. It shows the importance and emphasis they put on uniqueness, creativity, and friendship through much anecdotal and empirical evidence. If you want to befriend the changelings, the insights in this book may go a long way.” Spike handed the book down to Joey, who held it in his hands with an impressed grin. “Is this the sort of thing you were looking for?”

The griffon nodded simply with a grin. “Perfect. Thanks, man.” With a grin, the dragon flashed a peace sign, and was about to open his mouth to speak whilst simultaneously preparing to glide back to the ground floor. “Actually, hold on…” he stopped in his tracks and turned his head back, already holding onto the mezzanine’s stone railing; seeing as Spike was about to launch himself over the railing, he finally deduced that the structure must have been made with reinforced concrete as opposed to stone blocks and white mortar… or, Joey was suspicious of the fact. “What… what’re you doing out here living with the changelings? You’re the only dragon I’ve seen… literally ever, you know? I’m genuinely curious, man.” as Joey tucked the book under his wing, Spike looked back at him with a grin.

“On the flip side, you’re the first Syndicalist-Griffon to not sneer at me at first sight. I’d love to chat, if you’ve got the time?” In a state of half-disbelief, Joey huffed with a smirk. “And for what it’s worth, I don’t rightly blame them. The dragons should never have gotten involved with your people; Likewise, I disagree with your government's wider colonialist actions, but I’d love to smoke a bowl with you on lunch break regardless.” Spike held his fist out, and Joey stared at it in disbelief momentarily.

After everything Joey had seen, done, and survived… he figured why not? Returning the bump with a grin, he spoke- “You’re speakin’ my language, brother. I gotta add passing a pipe with a purple dragon to my bucket-list then immediately cross it out!” he said, the two sharing a laugh as he replied mirthfully- “Can dragons read minds? How’d you know I smoke it in my offtime, I clean myself and my clothes like a friggin’ hypochondriac to keep up to standard!” He was still laughing, but he was still a little concerned. Mainly because Joey would feel embarrassed if he smelled like weed the whole time.

Spike snorted with a grin, a small puff of smoke coming from his nostrils. “Don’t worry- Dragons have crazy sensitive noses. Literally no-one else would notice but me.” He said, easing Joey’s nerves somewhat. “Like, earlier I could literally smell some gunpowder residue from your revolver when you snapped the holster open. Smelled like when my roommate left the carton of eggs out, you know?” he laughed as Joey glanced down at his holster. “I’d totally be down to help sniff out where the source is- guns are interesting.” he said, and Joey looked up with a smirk.

“I may just take you up on that offer- this piece is expensive- there’s a reason I didn’t hang it on the coat rack. If I missed something, I’d love to know where.” He looked up approvingly, holding his arm out, palm facing inwards. “Where’s lunchbreak, bossman?” The two faced eachother with a grin and locked fists, arms interlocking and creating a V shape, like they were about to arm wrestle without a table. “I’ll meet you there- I gotta get my smokes outta my coat pocket.”

Spike pointed his thumb up on his free arm and jabbed it over his shoulder as he spoke. “West-wing balcony, bro.” he said as the two let go and prepared to go separate ways. “I’ll be a minute, so I recommend taking the stairs; every stone is decorated with whatever signature the original builders decided to leave, representing the massive collective effort that went into building it.” Joey looked towards the spiral staircase with an impressed grin as Spike continued- “Seriously, it’s incredible. Some left poems, some carved their own relief scenes in the stone… and a couple guys drew dicks while their friends all stood around them dying of laughter, knowing that those carvings could stand for a thousand years. Some of them aren’t even finished yet- the towers were only finished last year.”

“Sir, yes, sir!” Joey saluted with his fist in the air and whispered what would normally be considered a bark. “If I don’t make it back, tell my wife I died looking for dicks.” While Spike doubled over and wheezed in place of shouting-laugher, Joey had to ask- “One more thing I gotta know- is this building complete masonry, or reinforced concrete? I’m getting mixed signals in the small details.” After calming down, the inquisitive dragon nodded with a grin.

“Yes. The spiral staircases were constructed as individual towers out of the big stone blocks; the rest of the body is made from steel-reinforced concrete, Canterlot style. Much of the masonry on the walls is actually craft-made paneling, the furniture being the only exception. All the pillars are reinforced with I-beams embedded in the ground, decorated with carved stone discs and plastered, if you’re concerned about the mezzanine’s stability...” Spike leaned against the railing as he looked back with a grin. “So you wouldn’t be wrong if you said you’ve noticed evidence of both. What tipped you off, out of curiosity?” He asked, feeling somewhat confused; there were places that even Spike couldn’t tell, due to the craftsmanship of changelings dedicated to beautifying this library. No single stone panel appeared to be the same, as they were all meticulously carved to appear as though they were natural stones, flattened by chiseling and locked in with mortar and plaster. Even the arches, Spike was told, were reinforced with rebar.

Joey simply shrugged. “Truthfully, I’m not sure what compelled me to ask… but that railing you’re leaning against lacks any sort of stabilizing arches- just decorated pillars with a smooth, flat marble top.” The mezzanine wasn’t perfectly round, as he observed earlier. “From what I’ve read in books, would I be wrong in guessing you were in the quarter-ton range?” Spike looked at the railing with a faint blush.

“Six-hundred range… but you’re right, this railing is much stronger than it should be at a glance.” He turned to Joey with a grin- “But that guestimate is good enough to earn a decent prize at the county fair. I didn’t even notice until you pointed it out, man!” Spike turned away, rearing his hind legs as he prepared to launch himself over the railing. With a whoosh, he said- “Take your time, admire the beautiful mix of classical and modern style!” Spike admitted, hovering in the air with plenty of space to flap his draconic wings freely. “Saturday checkout time runs late, but I don’t mind staying after-hours to chat; I slept until two PM, and I’ve got the house to myself until tomorrow afternoon anyway, you know?” Spike gave one final grin and a salute- “Later, bro! Bring your hat, the sun’s gonna set!”

As Spike glided down, Joey couldn’t keep the smug grin off his face. He’d just one-upped a dragon's senses with his own observational skills; and in this moment, he thought back to his childhood as he made his way towards the spiral stairs. Some kids were obsessed with trains, others obsessed with magic, trading cards, a favorite sport, or even the emerging technological fields; before dragons became universally hated amongst the Griffons, they were his and Paolo’s childhood obsession; When it wasn’t cool to be obsessed with dragons anymore due to the wider Syndicate’s hatred of their ilk, Joey turned to cars whilst his best-friend Paolo took a fascination to architecture and ancient buildings; he planned to go to a trade school for architecture with the money he earned from enlisting.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, trudging along the ten-foot high bookshelves made of interlocked shelves of stone, reinforced only by locked stone braces under them, carved and decorated skillfully; and that’s when he came to the dreadful realization that it felt wrong to view something so magnificent without his best friend by his side. In his head, he thought- “Maybe that’s what’s drawing me towards analyzing and scrutinizing every detail about the place, hoping to impress and one-up him like I did Spike; but why… why do I feel so damn guilty?” He asked himself, rubbing the tear out of his desert worn and sand-shot eyes; the harsh desert environment and the effects of crude oil which could barely be removed from feathers making him seem far older than he actually was. “But I should be thankful- I’d never make it as a Drill Sergeant for the Syndicate if I looked my age. The news made attending the closed-casket funeral of my best friends parents just a little more tolerable, at least. After all their lectures to Paolo and I about not drinking and driving, the fool got drunk after his only son’s funeral and crashed the car.”

Joey shuddered as he approached the stone archway, the spiral staircase continuing seamlessly past the entry portal. He sniffled, feeling tears leaking down his cheeks from his blurry, half-closed eyes. Leaning his elbow against one of the archway’s stones, he hung his head to sob quietly into his arm. “I fuckin’ miss you, bro… damnit, I can’t even visit a cool building without thinking of you!” He sniffled, unable to suppress the audible sob as he clenched his eyes and beak shut. “Fuck… I know I should’ve had your back- why do I need the constant reminders!?” He hiccupped, letting out a cry that sounded to him like a gunshot in the near-silent library. “It’s not right without you here…”

Unable to silence his cries, Joey felt his blood run cold when he heard something land behind him softly. “What’s wrong, dearie?” a grandmother-esque voice spoke up behind him, forcing him to clamp his beak shut. “Don’t be afraid- you and I are the only ones here right now; the Vice Zones are opening up shop at this hour, meanwhile the book-enjoyers are at home with a cup of tea. Speak your mind!” Her soft voice reminded Joey of his own grandparents, at least in the tone she used and the wit she spoke with; it soothed him subconsciously as he sniffled, rubbing his eyes and turning slowly.

The mint-green changeling looked up at Joey with caring eyes, highlighted by the small round spectacles that hung on her nose. Her silk toga was a matte purple, almost like Spike’s scales; it must be some sort of library staff signifier. He hung his head and sighed deeply, sitting down with his back against the pillar. “S-sorry, Ma’am. I got caught up, thinking of an old friend, is all.” He spoke with a whisper, barely able to look to the side as the hippy-esque changeling sat next to him. “I’ll be alright. I gotta just get over the fact that… that I’m admiring a place like this without…” He choked, unable to even finish the sentence. “I’m… I’m still grieving over a friend of mine, that’s all.” He turned, feeling somewhat at ease when he saw the old changeling’s caring smile; he sniffed and wiped the tears off his cheeks as she spoke-

“And I’m telling you it’s okay to cry. I’m a therapist when I’m not helping here; My name’s Mrs. Bookworm… but everyone around calls me Tutti.” She held her hoof out, and Joey couldn’t help but take her hoof with a grin. “Spike told me your name is Joey. If you ever want to talk about it, let me know and I’ll make the time.” She grinned as the two shook hands. “I’ve been helping people get through tough feelings ever since the Post-Chrysalis days; I can sense the pain you’re feeling, honey.” Joey blinked; he’d nearly forgotten the fact that Changelings subconsciously read the emotions of regular creatures, almost like a pheromone lead.

Joey chuckled. “I’ll think about it. I gotta get back into filling out my diary, that’s for sure.” Tutti gave him a wide grin of approval as he sniffled and rubbed his eyes once more. “This enlistment contract lasts longer than I’d like, but I couldn’t say no to the opportunity to rise in the ranks; I mean it when I say I’ll think about it.” He’d miss the birth of his firstborn by a few months, but his undying loyalty to the Syndicate and all the good it’s done for him and his family wouldn’t let him say no to a promotion and redeployment. “Thanks, Tutti. I don’t think a griffon would’ve stopped to comfort a crying stranger like you did… Hell, there probably would’ve been laughter if another griffon were involved.” He chuckled mirthlessly, taking a deep breath while the changeling giggled.

“I don’t know about that- kind people exist all over. It’s just unfortunate that they’re forced to attempt to live peacefully with unkind people.” She stood up and offered a hoof to help the Griffon up. “Come on- I’d love to walk and talk. This place is much less dreary with company!” He stood up slowly and nodded, taking the time to look up and finally admire the art which made up a grand collective effort of artists and architects. “It’s hard to believe all this was constructed in just three years!” She stood by his side and looked up, matching his awed grin.

“I… I was thinking of my best friend Paolo… rather, how much he’d love analyzing every crevasse of this place. He’d probably be scribbling the design of every stone in his sketchbook right now!” Joey giggled and met Tutti’s caring gaze; her teal compound eyes and two magic-channeling antennae on the back of her head gave him a thought. “Could… Would you be al… No. Ne-nevermind. I’m sorry.” he looked away with a blush and sat down, Tutti taking a seat in front of him in the staircase's flat-floored entry portal.

“That’s a common request from people suffering from grief; believe me, if I had a nickel for everytime someone tried to ask that of me, I’d have… a big pile of worthless nickels… aside from melting them all down for a craft project.” He couldn’t help but giggle through the grief at the mental imagery of this old hippie woman owning a massive pile of nickels next to a rocking chair. “Believe me- confiding in an illusion will make the pain of loss tenfold unbearable. Even if a changeling could perfectly replicate Paolo, it can never make up for the pain caused by the illusion being broken by small details. You’ll notice every flaw and realize that you’re talking to an impersonator. It’s inevitable.” After a few moments in silence, Joey nodded with a solemn look.

“I understand your point.” He said, standing up with a grin- “May I help you up?” The two looked at eachother with smiles, though Tutti simply beamed with pride. “Sometimes I dream about the good times him and I shared… sometimes I dream he’s still with me, and don’t notice what’s wrong until I’m woken up in a cold sweat by the realization. I imagine the pain could be likened to that feeling.” as he helped her up, the two began to walk side-by-side.

“It gets better with time, dear. All wounds heal with time; even scars may fade given enough of it.” She giggled- “But talking about it helps. If you’re interested, I have my own mailbox slot by the front door, accessible from the out front. It’s got the building's postal address set in a brass placard; but if you write Tutti, The Library on the envelope, they’ll know exactly what that means.” He giggled as the two made their way down the spiral staircase, admiring whatever art caught their eye as they spoke. “I can tell you’re a soldier, and you must surely be busy during the week. I can make time on a weekend, don’t hesitate to ask.” with a contented sigh, he turned to look at the old changeling woman.

“You’ve already been a great help; and you mark my words, I’ll find some way to pfffff!” He held his hand up to stop his second new friend of the day, sitting on a step and clutching his side as he wheezed out in laughter at one of the large stone bricks which covered the wall in twenty four inch wide by seventeen inch canvases; for amongst the mosaics was a crude carving of a quadrupedal stick-figure with a massive dick and balls carved into the stone.

“HAH! Nice.” She said with a grin, waiting patiently for Joey to calm himself down. She thought to herself- No wonder Spike took a quick liking to him; they’re both teenagers… or, teenage in spirit, considering… dragon. “Never fails to get a kick outta me.” She chuckled as Joey prepared to move on.

“Alright, alright- I gotta get goin’!” Joey said, the two of them heading down the stairs to retrieve a few things from his coat… his hat included, since he’d be facing the western sunset with Spike.

—

“Thorax, dude…” Sitting next to his roommate on the living room couch, Spike glared forward with a dead stare in his eyes. He sat a decent foot taller than his Changeling best-friend, his teenage growth-spurt causing his limbs to grow lankier and his body to lengthen out with age. His best friend wrapped their hoof around the dragon’s back caringly, leaning into his side for comfort. He stared at the ornately carved tile-marble walls which decorated far more than just their little corner of the hive, letting out a huff of thick, acrid smoke; it rolled off his lips menacingly for a few dramatic seconds, the strength causing Thorax’s eyes to water… before Spike blew a smoke-ring in the air in a long, drawn-out sigh. The cloud hung above their heads, dancing amongst the rays of sunlight which beamed through their upper-hive glass sunroof; and Spike finally grinned. “That’s some good fuckin hash, bro.” Taking another hit of his spliff, Thorax merely rolled their eyes.

“How can you tell? You rolled it Dragon-style, there’s more tobacco than hash!” His friend quipped, knowing full-well that dragon-style meant rolling at a ratio of 70/30… and the 70 isn’t weed. The two shared a giggle while they continued- “Like I said, that was a gift from Leona. The griffons know how to make good hash; they’ve got Zecora heading research into the medicinal uses of it.” His friend said, using their magic to spark a standard joint as the two leaned into their respective sides of the couch. “I already told you a couple of my personal spies found that out years ago, right?” Spike nodded with a grin, blowing out another slow puff of smoke. “We could totally visit her one of these days; long story short, our nations are gonna like… pretend to still hate each other but like…” Thorax squinted in confusion while Spike watched amusedly. “We’re gonna work together as a… a shadow government, basically!” After a few moments, Spike gave his friend a massive grin. “The Commissioners. That’s our… no, that doesn’t sound right… The Commission! That’s our name.” taking another hit of their joint, he concluded- “Oh, I’m not supposed to tell you any of this, by the way.” He concluded, exhaling his hit slowly.

Spike flashed them an OK gesture while taking another hit from the spliff, blowing the smoke upwards and ashing it in the tray without even glancing downward. “Your secret’s safe with me, bro. You know it.” Thorax nodded anxiously, looking off to the side while Spike stared off into space. “Keep me in the loop- that sounds awesome!” They giggled nervously, taking a deep hit of their joint. “Hey- did I tell you I’ve been working on my new O&O character? He’s a Dragon Sorcerer, believe it or not!” He joked, knowing damn well that was his most played character type. “But instead of the neutral-good aged wizard archetype I usually stick to… I’m thinking of a chaotic-good heretical sorcerer.” Happy to change the conversation, Thorax nodded.

“Ooh, ooh! Tell me more; heretical sorcery is more about the utility and passive-defensive capabilities of magic, powered via soul-acquisition. It doesn’t have the smiting power you normally enjoy- you gotta get crafty!” His friend warned slyly, urging their dragon friend to continue on and matching his grin; they used magic to pop open the crystal-powered minifridge next to the couch which acted as a side-stand, pulling out two beers for them to share and popping the corks effortlessly. “Cheers!”

Clink!

They clinked bottles and each took a deep swig of the mystery beer, each voicing their delight via hmmms of approval. “Changeling mead?” Spike asked, smirking as his friend confirmed his suspicion with a nod. “Excellent. I’ll stop by Abda’s on the way to the Library tomorrow; gotta let her know she outdid herself again!” The two shared another swig and set their bottles off to the side with sighs of contentment. “Ooh, another thing- one of the Griffon soldiers stopped by to sign up for a library card; we spent basically the entire afternoon chatting on the west-balcony.” While Spike took another swig of mead, Thorax looked at him with a concerned look.

“Did… did it go well? Just knowing how your usual interactions with griffons tends to play out, I’m a little worried!” Thorax took a swig of mead to clear his throat, “You know you’re fully within your rights to-” But Spike was hearing none of it.

“Chill out, bro! Joey’s a cool dude, and I can vouch for him.” He took another deep puff of his spliff and allowed it to smolder in the ash-tray. “The closest he got was his initially confident assertion that the library was made of stone so I wouldn’t burn it down on accident.” He puffed out a cloud of smoke, shrugging casually- “He was really open minded after I explained that that was just a harmful generalization born from ignorance.” Spike leaned back in his chair, slumping his shoulders with a dopey grin and red eyes; he giggled- “Fuck, I’m lost in the frickin’ sauce… spaghetti sauce, am-I-right?” He quipped, earning a cackle from his roommate. “I’m making spaghetti for dinner, now. This is non-negotiable.” Spike said, unable to muster the energy to get up and start dinner for the moment.

Thorax chuckled- “Brother, I haven’t even unpacked my bags; I got a couple jars of homemade tomato sauce Leona gifted me in there.” While his roommate stared at the ceiling and ooohhhh’d in approval and stoned-excitement, the changeling giggled. “And it’s good to hear your new friend has an open mind; well, my ear canal is open for gossip, honey!” The changeling continued to avoid eye contact. Spike took a swig of mead and grinned before explaining-

“Well for one, Joey is an excellent smoking buddy. And he promised to vouch for me to his friends- so maybe we’ll get an influx of Griffons signing up for library cards?” He took a puff of his spliff and continued- “But I’m more curious about that dinner party. Tell me the deets- I’m curious what Leona had to say about the dragons… probably nothing good, I know.” Thorax gulped, looking down at the bottle held in their magic and taking a deep swig as they tried to think of an answer.

He set the bottle down and answered reluctantly as Spike polished off his own bottle- “Leona plans a war with the dragons, using technological superiority as their greatest advantage.” Spike turned his head slowly with an intrigued look, cocking his eyebrow while Thorax struggled to keep eye contact. “N-not an extinction or anything; her main targets are the old dragons who only follow Neo-Draconic law reluctantly. I have a plan to make sure Ember will be ready to save the New Generation when the time comes.” they squeaked out, realizing that Spike had a half-grin.

“If it’s as organized as you say it will be, then I’m intrigued.” Spike responded, his changeling best friend feeling relieved enough to look the dragon in the eyes. “Some of those dragons are old enough to remember Celestia and Luna burning their parents en-masse with space debris and cosmic radiation.” Equus used to have an asteroid belt before that event. Eventually a new dragon island began to sprout on the rocky debris, along with the many islands which skirted the main craggy landmass. “If the conservative dragons choose death, the erasure of their avaricious influence could allow for proper dragon culture to flourish.” Spike shrugged, preparing to take another hit of his spliff, nearly finishing it off. “No more meathead dragons around to bully younger dragons into acting like our savage ancestors? How tragic.” the teenage dragon blew out the smoke, quickly taking another puff. “I’m sickened yet curious as to what Leona has planned.” with another exhalation, Spike blew another smoke ring as Thorax smirked.

“Why do you think I went along with it, bro? The Changelings are safe either way- Leona caught a glimpse of the Father in a nightmare.” The two shared a giggle as Spike tried to imagine the look of sheer horror on her face. “From the sounds of it, even Hydra and Dagon have their eyes on her, too; she’ll be kept in line…” the changeling finished their bottle of mead off in a few swigs, pulling another out of the fridge and yanking the cork. “There’s… an observation on Leona I made that I wanted to know your thoughts on.” they said, taking a swig of fresh mead and setting it atop the fridge next to the empty.

“Mead me first, bro-” Spike said, his roommate tossing him a bottle which caught in his hand, allowed him to skillfully yank the cork with his free hand and taking a swig. “What’s on your mind? That girl’s been bad news since the day she moved to Ponyville.” Spike giggled, setting the bottle down on the side-table. “It was during Leona’s Welcome to Ponyville Party when we were finally able to introduce ourselves to each other… she made a joke about the phrase chasing the purple dragon, which I was too young to understand at the time. It was really awkward, and we barely spoke much after that… but her vibes were way off, so I had no desire to make her a casual acquaintance after that… Given that, what’s your take on what it’s like talking to her?” the two best-friends looked at eachother, sharing casual chuckle while Thorax gathered their thoughts.

Looking off to the side unsurely, he spoke- “She wears a carefully built-up mask in order to make up for her… heavily muted emotions.” Thorax admitted, leaning back in their seat and rubbing their chin. “Her crocodile tears would almost convince me if I could shut down my emotional senses; she plays her own character so well, speaking with a voice full of feeling, power, and emotion… her spirit should be singing along with whatever face she’s trying to put on, yet there’s only silence.” Spike nodded along, rubbing his own chin in thought as Thorax concluded- “Her strongest emotions were disgust at herself, at its strongest when she was being self-deprecating… and faint lust towards Celestia.” Spike couldn’t keep the look of disgust off his face at this revelation.

“Aw, what? Dude, Celestia’s basically my mother, I don’t wanna hear that!” He raised his palm up and stuck his tongue out while his roommate snickered. “Changing topic- you said something about Starlight that was similar; specifically the part with the silenced or quieted emotions. It sounds textbook psychopath to me, in both cases; not to discredit Starlight, of course.” While Spike scratched his chin, Thorax admitted-

“From talking to Leona, I know that she and Starlight are good friends; perhaps that’s why they bonded so fast?” Thorax giggled and resparked their joint while Spike couldn’t help but have a feeling of creeping fear. “Leona was the one helping her distribute all that literature through shady business dealings with Hay-Mart, it turns out.”

The dragon spoke softly- “I… I just hope Starlight remembers her friendship lessons. She was a real piece of work before Twilight befriended her.” Spike shuddered, still having occasional nightmares about those terrible alternate timelines. “She’s a good friend, and I trust her; and for everyone's sake, I hope she won’t by vying for a leadership position in future Equestria.” He huffed out a small cloud of dragonsmoke. “That mare brainwashed an entire town with zero mind-control capability, a cool looking stick, and a simple spell that can store a cutie-mark in a vessel. If Twilight and her friends hadn’t been able to convince the townsfolk that Starlight was fulla shit, I’m sure an army of Royal Guard would’ve been sent to surround the town after only a couple days. Their most likely location was literally marked on the map!” Spike shrugged, taking a swig of mead with a relaxed sigh. “One mare. I’m just saying- Starlight cannot be underestimated, even if we’re all friends.” Thorax shrugged-

“Same goes for Leona, then. The show she put on is making everyone else in The Commission underestimate her; she’s a predator cat showing her belly in surrender, resisting the urge to lash out and break the illusion of a docile housecat.” The two looked at eachother, nodding with matching grins. “I suppose our nation’s joint efforts at modernization will be reflected in her ongoing cooperation and assistance; already she came prepared, stuffing her ship full of patents for all sorts of stuff… extruded brass being the only one I can remember because of the shiny bullets she used as an example.” Spike nodded, feeling excited for what the future may hold, now that the world wasn’t at a standstill anymore. “Lastly, we uh… got news from Crystalia this morning.” Spike cocked an eyebrow in concern while his friend glanced away sheepishly. “It’s exactly what you think it is; Shining Armor and Flurry Heart are safe, but the majority of non-military have taken refuge outside the wall.”

The dragon resisted the urge to facepalm. “See, this crap is exactly why I got out of playing political advisor; Crystalia should have never been opened up to private Equestrian firms, even if they agreed at the time!” he ranted, taking a deep swig of mead before continuing- “And you know, there’s a reason Landlords are portrayed as literal half-dragons in their many political comic representations; All they want is gold and more gold, damn everyone else!” rubbing the bridge of his nose, he concluded his rant- “It’s as if all these Porky-capitalists have no ultimate goals in life aside from the pursuit of more. It’s the ancient dragon's curse, mirrored subconsciously by the world's richest money-makers in a cruelly ironic fashion.”

As the two reached for their bottles to take a swig in unison, Thorax muttered quietly- “Righteous, bro. I’ll drink to that truth bomb.” as the two took a long swig, Thorax smirked and had to cut his drink short- “Ohh, Leona’s ship is being escorted by Wonderbolts on the way to Canterlot, all to keep up the facade that she isn’t trusted!” Spike set his bottle down, staring downward in thought. “Oh, she’s bringing Caddy and Shiny back to Canterlot to drop them and the patents off.” the dragon snapped his right fingers and nodded.

“I wonder what their plan is for Crystalia?” Spike mused to himself, noting his roommates nonchalant shrug. After a few moments of awkward silence amongst themselves, Spike popped the question he’d been trying to avoid. “How… how’s Twilight?” He asked, not having spoken to his older sister since they had a falling out. Holding the bottle in his hand, he focused on that as opposed to the difficult emotions.

“Her drinking problem’s gotten out of hand… she genuinely blacked out last night, sneaking drinks during bathroom breaks.” Spike cringed, looking down at the bottle firmly. “I really think you should come to her intervention; and I know for a fact that she loves and misses you.” he nodded slowly, rubbing his forehead as Thorax continued- “I know you have a few things you’d like to say in regards to her drinking, no?”

With a deep breath, he unintentionally let out a huff of draconic smoke. “You’re right. Maybe… maybe now that the world’s changing, she’ll be more open to listen.” To think- this all stemmed from his own personal feelings towards independence.

—

Sitting on a chair flanking a coffee table, I couldn’t help but fling my arms outward. “Aww, come ooon!” I implored Cadence as she stood up from the couch, situated in front of the coffee table and below my airship’s window- “You’re a guest on my zeppelin, I’m not gonna make you cook breakfast!” Whilst Shining Armor gave me a half-glare, Caddy just giggled. “Just hand over the crystalberries, I know how to make friggin’ pancakes!” I gestured towards her from my seat while she turned around, her husband not even bothering to take his eyes off her hips.

“First of all, Tonio’s driving the ship.” She said, and I leaned back in my seat. “Second of all- I’m hungry. And there’s a specific way I like to make mine. End of discussion!” She turned tail towards my ship's kitchen; all the while her husband’s eyes never left her flanks. “You’ll love ‘em, I promise!” as the door swung shut, I gave her husband a sly grin.

“Lemme crack a window- you look like you’re sweatin’.” He rolled his eyes as I moved to sit at one of the couches backed against the window; the drapes were secured to the wall with velcro as a refreshing breeze waved through the room, and brought the soothing white noise of the four 16-cylinder diesel engines that roared across the clear Equestrian sky. A troupe of Wonderbolts flew around my ship in escort so as to not raise panic; one of them spotted me from outside and sent me a glare, which I returned with a polite wave. “I gotta take you and your family to watch an airshow with us; it’s spectacular what they can pull off with little stunt-planes!” I suggested, lighting up a hash-joint and puffing it out the window.

“Listen, she was already going off about some camping trip or other you two were planning; but if you don’t mind, I’d like to hear your thoughts on the Crystalia situation.” I nodded as he sniffed the air- “My wife’s not gonna be happy if she smells that joint.” He warned solemnly, causing me to snicker.

“She and I were smokin’ up the parking lot last night.” I finally broke the news, causing his baggy eyes to light up. I scooted over and patted the couch- “Have a seat, dude; you’ve had a rough night, I can tell.” He hopped on the seat, and I wasted no time passing the joint his way. “The peer pressure finally kicked in for you, bro! That and the simple fact that this stuff is practically Mamma’s little helper!” I immediately regretted that phrasing, as from then on I was forced to listen to the Rolling Stones on repeat in my head. He puffed outward with a satisfied grin, taking another drag from the joint and savoring it. “Cadence can fill you in on the events of last night; only you. There are secrets that I’m willing to kill to keep hidden.” I grinned as he passed the joint with a look of surprise before exhaling out the window.

“Considering future plans of leveling out the playing field? Fair enough.” Shiny nodded while I grinned, taking a slow drag from the joint. “I promised her I’d give up weed the week before our wedding; and I haven’t broken that promise until now… funnily enough, that feels like the more pressing concern in my mind.” I couldn’t help but chuckle with him as I exhaled gently.

“I’ll talk her down, chief.” I took another puff slowly and inhaled gently- “I doubt she’d wanna be seen as a hypocrite, you know?” I gave him a smirk and passed the joint as he rolled his eyes.

Just as I was exhaling, he huffed- “Hmmph. She’d be better off smoking a joint in the afternoon than her normal two bottles of wine before bed, that’s for damn sure.” as he exhaled, I agreed in spirit, but I found myself unable to formulate a response; mainly because of how close to home that felt. “Anyways, Crystalia. You need filled in?” He asked before taking a last hit before passing me the soon-to-be roach to finish off myself.

“That I do; on a scale from Fucked to Untenable, explain what the situation looks like, please.” He chuckled as I worked on finishing the joint.

He glanced out the window to ensure no Wonderbolts were listening in before saying- “Based on that scale? No-good, terrible, but salvageable.” he explained, and I understood completely as I blew out the window. “Terrorists set up co-ordinated strikes on several outer-bubble industrial zones before literally every Crystalian stormed the wall. Several key production lines were destroyed beyond repair, not even mentioning the raging wildfires.” I hummed with a smirk, taking the final drag of this joint and crushing the roach out in the ashtray.

“I take it wall personnel were used to help put out the fires, in the interest of the landowner’s property?” He nodded with a tired expression, taking in a deep breath. “Any civvies that were trapped in buildings?” he shook his head, and I couldn’t help but grin.

“It was during the biggest walkout we’ve ever seen. The Bleeding Hearts Gang planned for the firebombings to take place when they knew the factories would all be empty.” A definite silver lining is how organized this all sounded. “Some mare named Filly Casanova’s become their de-facto leader, and… well, we have a week to negotiate as the Crystalians are arming and training themselves to fight.” I nodded frankly, sort of seeing where this situation was going.

“Compromise, or we’ll fight tooth-and-nail to defend our home. That’s what they’re saying, basically.” He nodded, looking off to the side with a sheepish grin. “It’s good that you decided to bide your time; this is exactly why I called The First Commission to begin with.” I said, peering out the window at the passing countryside below. “I gotta ask- what convinced you to hide your daughter and friends all the way in Canterlot?” He sighed and joined me in looking out the window.

“They… they made effigies of me, my wife, and my daughter and… hung them off trees.” he admitted, adding- “Please, don’t tell my wife that.” I scoffed, lightly punching his shoulder to get his attention. It was perfect- if Cadence hears about that, her mind will be going back to the Romanov family.

“No, no, I will tell her- because she has the right to know what her kingdom actually looks like!” He gave me a half-offended look, but he turned away when I met his look with a glare. “After breakfast, I’m gonna check in on Emmie in the sleeping quarters and probably hit the hay myself. And don’t think your wife won’t be egging you on about telling her the truth, either; I made her promise me to make you tell her the truth.” I looked at him with a sly grin- “Whatever that entails, clean up after yourselves and watch the volume; neither me nor my other friend got any restful sleep last night.” He simply snorted and rolled his eyes.

“Caddy was always pretty sheltered, but… I see your point. A day late and a bit short to learn this lesson, maybe…” He nodded, gazing longingly towards the kitchen door. “Maybe she and I could negotiate?” he mused, and I huffed.

“My advice? Pull out like it's prom night! Take anything that isn’t nailed to the ground and bring it home with you!” he snorted before bursting into laughter- “Maybe you could come back to Equestria; the guy that took your place is an utter fuckin’ tool!” After a few moments of shared laughter, he spoke up-

“I’ve definitely heard a thing or two about my successor… but I have to discuss it with my wife. In the interest of peace, I’d prefer to compromise.” I resisted the urge to roll my eyes as a headache once again began to flare up behind them, fueling the sudden frustration. I forced out a laugh and said-

“You have a funny idea of salvageable, my friend.” I pointed at him, speaking harsher than I intended to. “You said yourself, they already blew up a bunch of factories and shit? Rebuilding Crystalia is gonna require investment capital, which might be hard to come by. I’m just saying- if a group of ponies want to hang you, they’re not just gonna go away- they become the extremist minority in hiding.” Shiny looked away, rubbing his chin in thought. “But that’s up to you and your wife; I’ll offer up support no matter what you choose- extra manpower and an array of big guns aren’t out of the question, bro.” After some thought, he giggled and turned with a smirk-

“Big guns sounds like something- Woah, are you alright!?” a look of concern suddenly painted his face, just as I felt water dripping down the side of my face. The throbbing headache slowed my reaction time, and I wiped the water off my cheek; only to come to the realization that I’d been bleeding from the outer-corners of my eyes.

“Oh, dat’s not good…” I remember staring at my bloody palm dumbly as the world around me faded into painless darkness.

You let the deal go down. He’ll cave to his wife’s demands; leaving me totally blind in Crystalia. Forgive me- I let the eyes on your brain swell too much… but you need to learn to take a hint.

—

“N-noted…” Leona muttered in her sleep, surrounded on the couch by Caddy, Shiny, and Emmie. Cotton balls were constantly being dabbed in the corners of her eyes by Cadence from a distance as Emmie demanded Shining Armor stay away from his boss.

“If she feels threatened, the louse may respond. I am not taking that risk again.” He said to him, noticing that the bleeding had finally stopped. With a grin, he affirmed- “I already lost one good stallion to that Cosmic Lookingglass, I am not losing another.” Despite the fact that Shiny recognized the blue unicorns fierce demeanor, he couldn’t make heads-nor-tails what the fuck he was talking about.

“Cosmic Lookingglass? What?” Realizing how clueless Shiny was, Emmie rubbed his temple.

“There’s an alien tentacle in her beak that can suck your brain out metaphysically; if she’s unconscious, it’s unknown how it’s controlled… or what it might do. That’s all you need to know to assess the danger.” Shiny squinted his eyes at Leona’s half-open beak where she lay on the couch. “It sounds goofy, but believe me- it was traumatizing for everyone involved. If she wants to talk about it, she’ll talk about it.” Standing his ground, Shiny looked away from the Don and nodded.

“Noted.”

Author's Note

As it turns out, Leona is pretty racist towards the dragons. Who would've guessed? And who here remembers all those episodes centered around Spike getting rejected by his peers because of his outsider upbringing? And can anyone blame him for not wanting to be Twilight's shadow for the rest of forever?
Spike, the Angsty Teenage Dragon!
And Tutti doesn't mess around; one time a changeling was down in the dumps because his soup was too hot. She helped him through the long, arduous process of waiting for his delicious bowl of soup to cool to a reasonable temperature. She's a professional!

Sorry about the long delay between chapters. I've been trying to look for a job in between trying to write, but it's hard to focus on both while I dread putting off the other. But if you liked the chapter, I'd be really appreciative if you donated to my Ko-Fi! It'd help me out a lot, and I appreciate you all either way :3
Thank U :3