Missing In Action: From Underhive With Love - Two Disc Ultimate Edition

“This is going to be exciting!” Cadance beamed.

“Uh huh,” Phasma grunted quietly, rocking from side to side in the armchair by the window.

“You and I have different definitions of exciting, Cady,” Shining grumbled.

Phasma tapped the table in front of him, staring out the train’s window and paying only half a mind to the pair of lovers. He had checked and rechecked his gear four times before departing Canterlot, and everything had been accounted for. He patted his fetlock-mounted device, a nervous tick of making sure it was still there. Bringing Twilight up to speed on its working was a risk, but there was no other choice. The purple unicorn was locked away in her private sleeping room, working over the math that Phasma had provided. Cadance and Shining were free from any such distractions, and were bugging the King to no end.

“This is the first time we’re going to see how the changelings live, Shiny,” Cadance said, scooping her husband up into a hug.

“First time for you,” Shining countered. “I bucked down their front door last time I was here.”

Cadance nuzzled Shiny, “Really? I could have sworn that that was Six…”

“There were a lot of doors to kick. And she merely loosened up the hinges!”

“Hey, King Phasma, what is the Hive like?”

Phasma turned away from the window. The pair of ponies were staring at him, cheek against cheek, love pouring out like waves lapping at a shoreline. Even from across the train car, the effect was nearly painful to the lone changeling.

“It’s…” Phasma trailed off.

It was a bit warm in the dining cart, and Phasma shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Proverbially speaking, the Princess of Food was practically bathing him in delicious emotions. It took actual effort to keep his muzzle clamped shut and rear parked on the seat. Staring out the window offered some distraction, but now his focus was on the two beacons of love.

“It’s fine,” Phasma answered in a short, clipped tone. “Like a city, but made of flesh. Bug flesh. Kinda weird if you ask me, as cities should be made out of bug vomit. But when in Rome…”

Cadance frowned, head cocked to the side, “Really? That’s… Shining, how should I feel about that?”

The unicorn huffed, “It’s not– it’s fine, Cady. Just looks like chitin, or matte black stone. You know that Blackstone fortress I’m making? The Warlance 40,000 one? The buildings look like that, but more… insect style instead of Abbyssian.”

Cadance frowned, “... Not getting it. Little help here, Phasma?”

The bug’s stomach growled, drowned out by the steady clack-clack of the tracks.

He shook his head to refocus, “Ponies like making their homes using circular shapes, as well as from wood, thatch, plaster, and so on. Changelings use hard angles, stone or other hard materials, and care less about useless things like stairs. Expect to see more geometric shapes and… um…”

Grunting, Phasma rose from the armchair and walked past the ponies to the bar that took up a quarter of the car. He leaned over the counter and started to rifle through the contents underneath, fishing out a bottle of whisky and jar of peanuts before bringing them back to his seat.

Shining eyed the changeling, “Isn’t it a bit early to start drinking?”

“You’d also be drinking before noon if you had eldritch gods leaving telegrams in your brainpan,” Phasma sighed, uncorking the whisky and drinking straight from the bottle. “Mmm. And as usual, instead of telling me about my car’s extended warranty, this one promises pain and uh…” The bug started shoveling peanuts into his maw, “You know, stuff. Adventure stuff. You finish the thought.”

“That’s why we’re bringing friends!” Cadance smiled, her enthusiasm practically intoxicating.

“So this is what it's like to be Tantalus,” Phasma said under his breath. “Speaking of which, where is she? Isn’t she awake by the crack of dawn or something? Shouldn’t she be here by now?”

“Six is prepping her Spartans,” Shining answered. “You know, because last time they were in your Hive, they were put within spitting distance of death.”

Phasma raised an eyebrow, “Glad to hear the old boys gave her a run for her money. Really, I’m just dragging this conversation out, as this world has a funny sense of timing. I said, shouldn’t she–?”

The door to the dining cart slid open as the drink in Phasma’s hooves rippled in time with heavy hoofsteps.

“Ah, there’s the muscle mommy,” Phasma half-smiled as Six entered the dining cart.

As the Spartan approached, Cadance’s eyes widened and eyebrows shot up, “Excuse me? What did you call her?”

“Ignore him,” Six said, stopping before the two ponies and one bug. “Princess, my team is ready. Phas, any idea what we’re gonna face down there?”

Now it was Shining’s turn for his eyebrows to raise, “What did you call him?”

“There’s a lot down there,” Phasma interrupted. “No telling what we’re gonna fight, only that it’ll make any previous fight look tame in comparison. Only brightside is that it’s… what’s the term? Free fire zone?”

“Unless there are any civilians down there,” Six nodded.

“No, it’s– I’m quoting one of Noble Team, Six. Something about the whole place being a free fire zone.”

Six’s face hardened, “Funny.”

Phasma blinked and took another swig of whisky, “You know, the whole stone faced routine doesn’t work on empaths.”

The bottle was ripped from the bug’s hooves, pressed it against her lips, and tipped the bottle back till every drop was draining down into her gullet. She finished with a grunt, wiping her lips clean.

“Stay focused, I can’t have you inebriated before a mission.”

“... Shit girl, you can really hold your breath, huh? I bet you’re gonna make a stallion very happy in the future.”

Cadance’s and Shining’s eyebrows could not raise any further, but they could exchange a glance that carried several conversations.

“Soooo….” Cadance said slowly. “How’s your home life, Phasma? How’s Luna?”

The changeling stopped smiling, “How would I know? I haven’t seen my wife in years.”

The alicorn grimaced and sucked in air through her teeth, “Oh. I’m sorry, I forgot about that detail. I didn’t– I’m sorry, Phasma.”

“I know,” Phasma said.

As another awkward silence smothered the group, Cadance tried again, “Hey, Phasma? I have a question.”

“I might have an answer.”

“Since changelings eat love, wouldn’t that mean you feasting on emotions is like… cheating or something?”

The King stared at Cadance, “... No. Taking emotions is far from being romantic. And besides, Luna and I are… were… open to ideas?”

“What does that mean?” Cadance asked.

“Well on Sundays, Luna and I would meet with Thorax and his coltfriend Double Diamond…”

“Uh huh?” Cadance nodded, prompting him to continue.

“And we’d all have sex.”

The pony princess blushed, “Ah! Forgive me for prying!”

Shining elbowed his wife, “So about that birthday present I asked for–”

A pink wing smacked the side of his head.

“And you bring this up because…?” Cadance trailed off.

Phasma shrugged, “Changelings need to eat, and my wife has very stern opinions about murder or hurting other people. Now, I’m not given free reign or anything, but… it’s complicated. I dunno, I imagine there’s a lot to talk about and catch up on when I see her. Because I am going to see her again.”

“Of course!” Cadance smiled, visibly relieved to have the conversation switch tracks. “I have no doubt that once we figure out this strange prophecy of yours, Twilight will help you get on your way.”

Phasma nodded and turned towards Six, “And how does our walking battleship feel about our call to arms?”

“Indifferent,” Six said with her signature resting bitch face.

“Hey hey hey,” Phasma waved his hoof, “remember what I said about that not working on an empath? You’re allowed to smile, Six, I can feel your excitement. Don’t worry, I filled out the smile requisition forms before we left. You are allotted four before we return to Canterlot.”

Six allowed a grin to fall upon her face and shook her head, “I don’t– oh. We have arrived.”

The rest of the group followed her eyes when Six’s head locked to the side. The badlands outside the window were broken up by the outer spires of the newly rebuilt changeling hive. Cadance all but dropped her husband and pressed up against the windows, hooves tapping excitedly on the glass.

Where once the foreign King saw only a train station and a massive crater, black towers of stone and chitin socialized with pony-style homes and shops, creating an oasis of civilization in the desert. Changelings walked and buzzed around, while a few ponies dotted the streets like islands of color in a thin sea of black. There was quite a bit of gold to those islands of color, as Phasma noted that many were wearing the armor of Royal Guards.

Shadows crossed the train car as the train pulled into the heart of the town, the building cutting off the harsh sun. Drones stopped to watch the train pull into its station. Being used to the strict regime, the changelings noticed the off-schedule arrival– and their curiosities would only be deepened when they saw through the windows that most of the train cars were empty.

“Welcome to the Hive Eternal,” Phasma told the ponies. “Give me a minute to think of a clever joke to go with that.”

A lone robbed changeling stood against the ponies and Phasma. Behind the drone, the rose quartz Hall of Vendratis was abuzz with the silent activity of worship. The holiest space in the changeling hive was guarded and populated by the Silent Priests, and currently one was denying the party entry.

At the head of the retinue of ponies, Phasma stepped forward and waved a hoof to the side, “Let us pass. We have business inside.”

The robbed changeling turned his head to the side, glancing at Phasma from underneath the raised cowl. When he spoke, his lips never moved, for he spoke only through his Aura and across Phasma’s curled-up Weave.

“You may pass, for you are known to us, King Phasma. These halls are open to you, holy Royal, at your pleasure. The company you keep may not desecrate this hallowed space and must remain.”

“They’re with me,” Phasma said, pointing to Six, Cadance, Shining, and the Spartans. “We share the same business and will need to travel together.”

The monk tilted his head to the side, “There is nowhere to travel through this Hall save for the Hall itself. It is forbidden for any spurned by the Empress to have a place so close to her sepulcher.”

“I’ve received directions from a less-than-enthusiastic-to-see-me former-despot,” Phasma told the drone. “She said our best chance at finding an entrance to the Underhive is here, in the deepest parts of the Hive.”

The monk turned from the King and regarded the Spartans and the gathering of ponies. Each had donned their war gear and were burdened with layers of armor, saddlebacks and backpacks, weapons, magical charms, and enough belts and buckles to put a BDSM party to shame. Even Princess Cadance had been fully equipped, intending to delve into the mysterious Underhive despite Phasma’s ominous and vague warnings.

“The denizens of below have more than enough to feast on without your help,” the Silent Priest remarked.

“I’ve handled my fair share of creepy crawlies and demons, priest. I am more than capable of guiding these ponies, despite the fact that this is my first time in the Underhive. I’ve heard positive reviews of the place and don’t want to miss out.”

The stare the Silent Priest gave in return spoke volumes of his decreasing opinion on Phasma’s intelligence.

“Trouble, King Phasma?” Cadance asked. “What is he saying now?”

“Nothing,” Phasma explained. “He’s just staring at me, and I’ve forgotten the joke I was going to say. It was really funny, damn it! Look, priest, I need to go home and the only way out is down. Don’t blame me for bringing ponies here, blame Panarthropo. Ain’t no way I’m going down into the Underhive without a meat shield of expendable lives. No offense, Six, Shining, and Spartans.”

“Offense taken,” Shining said quietly.

“Okay, okay. You’re not expendable, you’re more like early warning systems of something going wrong. Priest, we have to pass. There is no other way– unless you have some other uncollapsed route into the Underhive?”

“... What does the Empress have to do with your foolish journey to the depths?” The Silent Priest asked. “Or do you just take your name for the Empress in vain?”

“It was revealed to me in a dream,” Phasma entoned. “My way off this blasted rock is to find whatever is interdicting my escape down in the Underhive and shut it off. These ponies are coming with me because I can’t do it alone. I need help. You will not stop us.”

Phasma felt a stirring across the insides of his chest. The Silent Priest pursed his lips in frustration, frowned, and shook his head.

“Reveal your Aura to me, Royal. Unsheath it. I have need to inspect it and see if there is truth to your words.”

Phasma shifted on his hooves, “Sounds dirty. I don’t know what you’re playing at, but if this is some kind of mind reading…”

The monk shook his head, “No, nothing of the sort. If you have received a message in your dream from the Empress, there are signs to look for.”

“Fine,” the King huffed.

Reaching into his armored saddlebags, he flicked the magical doohickey off that concealed and contorted his Weave. At once, the pressure at the back of his mind was lifted, and he felt the presence of the thousands of changelings within the Hive around him, each like a blade of grass brushing against him.

The Silent Priest closed his eyes, staring straight through the Royal before him. The drone lifted a hoof and started waving it side to side, as if flipping the pages to a book. With a smile, he opened his eyes and stared up at Phasma.

“It is there, the mark of the Empress.”

“Panar damn it, not another branding on my soul. What is it this time?!”

“Calm yourself, Royal. There is no cause for fear or anger. It is said that when the Empress deigns to speak to us, a portion of her radiance is left within our souls. A mark akin to the glare in your eye from staring into the brilliance of the sun. There is a thread of red within your vast Aura, King Phasma. The Empress herself has spoken to you.”

Phasma frowned and glanced back at Six and the ponies, “The Empress spoke to me? It’s good to put a name to an ominous vision, but I am not sure what the implications of that is.”

“That all depends. Would you grace us with her words?” The priest looked up at him hopefully.

“The Empress didn’t talk to me, not like that. She just showed me a lot of visions.” Phasma chuckled, “I guess they do say that a picture is worth a thousand words, so she basically flashbanged me with a short novel with all those visions.”

The drone’s ears flicked backwards anxiously, “If you do not wish to share, none here will question your judgment. But…”

“Yes, yes, I’ll tell you,” Phasma smiled, patting the priest on the head. “Down boy!” The priest frowned, ducking under and away from the King’s hoof, before Phasma continued, “So no shit, there I was…”

As the oversized changeling told the story of his vision, more and more silent monks started to gather around the bug. Quietly, Cadance turned to Shining and remarked that with the size difference between them, Phasma looked like a kindergarten teacher at story time. Six, having caught this comment, smiled for an entire quarter of a second in amusement.

From the ponies’ point of view, his story finished with the priests exchanging crazed glances, gesticulation, hoof waving, and the tried and true tool for settling religious debates: threats of violence. All silent, of course.

The Princess of Food cleared her throat, “Phasma? Did you say something to offend them? Should we be concerned?”

The Big Bug nodded, “Yes that’s me, yes I am sure I offended one or two, no you should not be concerned. Now! On with the tour! You there, silent priest monk guy who I spoke to initially. We need to get to the Underhive. You know, the whole reason why we’re down here?”

The first silent monk broke off from his comrades, bowing to the royal, “Yes, of course! Your plight is sacred, none can argue against this! Most of the ways into the Realm of the Gods have been sealed shut. The dangers that lurk within the primordial realm have proven too dangerous for any to venture within. None are worthy to bask in its glory. None save you and your party, it would seem, perhaps the Empress herself is guiding you on your path. Come, there is one last tunnel that remains uncollapsed. Its hallowed hall is one of our greatest secrets, the way has remained secure in our hooves for generations.”

After that long silent response, Phasma turned to the ponies, “We’re on! Look lively, he’s gonna show us the way down, and then we’ll be in the Underhive. No more joking around, no more carelessness. You want to survive? Remember what I’ve told you all.”

The Spartans nodded in understanding, and Six remarked, “You were the only one joking here.”

“Yeah, well, the jokes stop now,” Phasma said, starting to follow the hooded drone. “Eyes on the swivel, speak up if you hear something, and for the love of Panar, don’t split up!”

The monarch’s posture and attitude had flipped like a light switch, earning a shared nod from the ponies trailing behind. The jokester royal suddenly being so serious stripped away the levity and casualness of the moment like being plunged into a cold pool.

The Spartans fanned out on either side of the Princess and Prince in formation. Six strode ahead of the couple, catching up to walk side by side with King Phasma. From posture alone, Six’s squadmates could not tell the difference between the two as rigorous combat training and experience matched the two former human’s demeanor together like two cogwheels.

The formation marched down the central promenade of the Hall of Vendratis, passing by dozens of closed doors, stained glass murals, and countless marble columns. Ahead, the statue of The Crimson Empress grew in size as they approached. The black stone statue stood on its hindlegs, rearing back and spreading its one remaining wing wide. Its right foreleg was gone, as was anything above the shoulders, leaving exposed the interior of the statue. Lines of red material snaked through the black stone like marbling, emerging like blood where the statue was decapitated.

It stood on a raised plinth, above the heads of the drones offering prayers. Red candles were clustered by the hundreds around it, covering the front edge of the pedestal and the space around the statute. Dried wax coated the front of the plinth and pooled beneath, like the stone itself was coated in gore and viscera. In front of the Empress’s only remaining icon, a massive golden bowl set low was half-filled with ash and the remains of burnt offerings, both organic and material. Within the ash, glints of red sparkled as ruby gemstones lay scattered within the white debris. Four smaller ruby-encrusted gold censers stood at each corner, the smell of burning incense filling the space. Scrolls of parchment were stacked high underneath the statute’s belly. It formed an uneven mound, and the group watched as a hooded priest levitated up a furled up scroll and deposited upon the stack.

Their guide parted the small crowd of worshippers and led the group around the side of the mighty statue. The Empress’s shadow fell upon them as they skirted the edge of the plinth, making their way out of sight behind its bulk. There, hidden behind it, stood the Eternity Gate.

A gateway of red-tinted steel and golden accents, its surface was covered in an ancient script none could recognise nor identify, and was inlaid with a crimson material equally unidentifiable. Its swirling patterns all pointed towards two small holes near its center, and finally a spiderweb of rubies surrounded each opening before leading into a larger upside-down heart of crimson jewels above the door.

Gazing upon this hunk of steel its observers found the hairs (if they had any) on the back of their necks standing up as its angles seemed to change when not looked at directly. Instincts long buried and abandoned rose to the forefront of everyone’s minds as they beheld the Eternity Gate.

The monk stopped before it and turned to face the royal changeling, “This is it. The path to the Imperial Palace, Empress bless its holy grounds, lies behind the Eternity Gate. To open it, the hoof of a chosen Venator and the hoof of a royal must be used in tandem.”

Phasma glanced around, “It’s just me this time.”

The priest nodded solemnly, “But you walk with the Empress’s blessing! She would not set you on this path only to be turned away at the nexus of her sepulcher.”

With that, he gestured to the gate, bowing as he stepped aside. Grunting an acknowledgement, King Phasmatodea stepped up to the Eternity Gate and looked up. It seemed to stretch further than the ceiling would allow. Blinking away bright spots in his eyes, he leveled his gaze with the holes ahead of him. Though they were in line with each other, the one on the right was considerably wider.

Hardening his resolve, the King lifted his right hoof, pressed it against the slot, and pushed it in.

“And with the right hand of doom, I will unleash hell,” Phasma whispered to himself.

Something gripped onto Phasma’s hoof. It sucked his foreleg in, pulling him practically off his hooves and smashed his face against the door. He grunted in surprise and began yanking backwards, trying to free his foreleg. The sound of mechanical thumping, like gears turning and the door unlocking, echoed throughout the hall. Just when Phasma was starting to fear that something about to severe his entrapped arm, it sprung free and sent him sprawling to the floor.

The doors began to creak open, rolling away from the prone changeling. Beyond, there was only darkness.

Six stepped forward and quickly helped Phas up to his hooves and the two squared off against the growing portal of stygian black. The silent monk made his retreat, passing behind the Spartans and watching from afar as Phasma’s horn glowed orange and a bright arcing projectile was shot out. The bright flare soared through the air and passed the Eternity Gate, illuminating the hall beyond.

There was a clear divide between here and there. Just past the doorway, not even a full meter beyond, the smooth marble flooring, walls, and ceiling ceased abruptly. What lay beyond was once the same, but was now covered in more gouges than could be counted, scores rent into stone and metal, no clear divide where one began and one ended. Rocks and fallen masonry littered the floor, long shadows cast as the flare soared past. The next thing to be noticed was the smell. The cloying scent of incense and oil was all but drowned out as a breeze came from beyond the gate, bringing with it the burning smell of sulfur and the foul stench of decay.

There was a moment of silence as everyone watched the flare pass through the hall beyond the Eternity Gate, disturbed only by the quieting crackle of its passage.

“Form up,” Six commanded her troops. “Lights on.”

The group all activated the crystal lamps built into their helmets, lighting up the path ahead, and stepped into the Underhive.

The path forward had fallen into an abyss.

For what seemed like an hour, the ponies and changeling had walked along the royal causeway, descending into a new realm as it sloped more and more downward. The signs of civilization- what little remained after being exposed to flora and fauna for centuries- had eroded away, and the group was now traversing through a rough looking cavern.

But now, ahead the hallway was just gone. A great slab of rock had shifted downwards, completely cutting off the path forward as if a whole section of the world had simply shifted downwards, exposing the rock that used to lay above the ceiling. In front of the collapsed section, the floor was a deep pit which their lights could not find the bottom of. The foul breeze was stronger now, easily felt on chitin and fur as they peered into the bottomless pit.

“Only one way forward,” Phasma remarked, casting a slow-fall enchantment spell on everyone.

“Not all of us have wings,” Shining shook his head, and began to drive a piton into the rock at the edge of the pit.

As he began to deploy a long rope that fell into the pit, he grabbed a second piton, this one far longer than the first and capped with a large blue gemstone. He drove it into the wall above the far side of the pit.

“Breadcrumb deployed,” the stallion relayed. “We’ve only got about three dozen more of these. How far is the Imperial Palace? Do we even know?”

Phasma pressed a hoof to his ear, turning on the earpiece that Twilight had concocted for all of them, “Testing, one two. That depends on what layer of the Underhive the Imperial Palace is at. If my theory is correct, it’ll likely be on the Sunless Sea. That means we have about…. Four layers to go. This path downwards likely leads to the Unending Dark, which means we will just have the Sunken Rot between us and the Sea.”

Cadance sniffed, “These names are not inspiring much hope.”

“It was a right of passage for royals to make expeditions down here,” Phasma responded, watching Shining tie a rope to the first piton. “There’s things down here that historically had alicorn-equivalent demigods for breakfast.”

Six stepped closer, “What should expect down there in the Unending Dark?”

The bug scratched his neck, “Um. I believe Princess Procho mentioned lots of little guys. No megafauna, just packs of monsters. Uttus, psoglavs, and myrmekes, that sort of thing.”

Pixy sighed, “Giant spiders, scaly wolves, and ants of an unusual size, got it.”

Phasma turned his back to the edge of the pit, “Hey, look at the bright side!”

“... Which is?” Pixy asked after Phasma fell silent.

“There isn’t one,” Phasma smiled, and jumped backwards, wings buzzing as he descended below.

Shining started to repel down the rope behind Phasma, the slow-fall spell allowing him to make great leaps downward. The Spartans followed next, but Cadance stopped Six with a hoof on her shoulder.

“You two make a great team, you know,” Cadance began.

“Who, Phas?”

Cadance nodded, “Yeah! You two might not see it, but you seem to compliment each other’s leadership style very well. I am sure the same extends to fighting styles, too.”

“You are basing this off of a silent hike through a tunnel?” Six asked, face blank behind her visor.

The Princess of Love smiled and wiggled her eyebrows, “There’s more to language than words, dear. Both of your body language speaks of comfort around each other. Closeness. Casualness. L–”

“Don’t use that word.”

“I was going to l… luh luh luh…” Cadance tapped her chin. “I don’t have a recovery. Fine then, that’s a step too far. Still, I think you should give him a chance!”

Six gestured to the pit, “Is now really the best time to talk about this?”

The Princess nodded and closed her eyes, “Love dwells in all realms. It is the calm between storms, the peace that exists and fights against chaos. It is the power which connects all of us. How about–” Cadance opened her eyes again, only to find Six was gone.

Quickly, Cadance leapt towards the pit and saw the beam of light descending from Six’s helmet.

“Talk to him!” Cadance yelled down to Six, before spreading her wings wide and taking her own leap of faith.

“Twelve o’clock!”

“Burn ‘em! Burn ‘em all!”

“Falling back, they’re pressing hard!”

“Mare, these bucking giant spiders are no joke!”

“Cadance, look out– oh, nice shot!”

“Focus on yourself, sweetie. I learned how to fight from the best!”

“Cut the chatter!” Six barked. “Form up, we need to press forward!”

Phasma stood behind Six, blasting great uttu spiders to pieces as Six ripped apart any who got close using her wingblades. Behind them, the ponies were in a scattered formation, slaughtering the arachnids as they emerged from web-covered holes in the cavern walls.

“Spirit, Cadance, in the center!” Six ordered. “Shining, Sparrow, Pixy, circle formation around them. Nothing gets close! Phas and I will lead the way! You all move with us!”

The group tightened their spacing and followed orders, forming a wall of death between the two squisher members and the horde of giant spiders which hissed and clicked their mandibles in anger at the trespassers. Six and Phas began inching forward, cutting a hole in the scittering wall of legs and thoraxes. Blue blood daubed their armor and bodies, torn off limbs crunched underhoof, and the two moved in perfect tandem as they weaved around each other, not letting the spiders flank them– the ones on the ceiling were particularly troublesome.

“I can smell earth. Dirt…” Phas grunted under his breath. “There’s a way down into the Sunken Rot nearby!”

“Find it!” Six barked, cutting an uttu in half with a flick of her wing.

“Cover me!” Phas returned, ceasing his spell casting to conjure a large flame at the top of a hoof. He pointed it upwards, towards the ceiling, and watched as it flickered, “... Winds coming from four o’clock. That’s our best bet!”

“Breadcrumb deployed” Shining called out as he drove another enchanted stave deep into the ceiling above. “Halfway out!”

Six did not call out her next order, instead she started to shift to the right, cutting and weaving between sword-like limbs and mandibles in her signature dance of death. Phas was with her the whole way, bringing up shields, blasting away spiders with force spells, casting nets of slow enchantments, and keeping the whole area lit with flares. The two moved like parts of a well oiled machine– or more accurately, like partners in a waltz. With ease, they knew each other’s movements before they knew their own, and never let the enemy have an opening.

Now shifted to the right, the pair began forging a path forward, thinning out the uttu spiders and pacing forward.

“Below!” Six bellowed, wrapping a bladed wing around Phas and hauling him off his hooves and rolling him onto her back.

Phas yelped in surprise, letting out a curse as he found himself being carried by Six. Where he stood a moment before, the ground rose up and sprung open as an uttu with a trapdoor nest lunged for a bite. Its reward was an armored hoof crushing its exoskeleton skull.

Curled up on her back, Phas pointed ahead, “I see a glow!”

Six wrapped her wing around him tighter and swung him around in an arc ahead of her. The changeling, seeing the spiders suddenly far closer than normal, instinctively conjured a focused-will laser beam and sliced through the spiders in front of him like a knife through hot butter. Six finished swinging him around, depositing the larger stallion back at her side, and resumed the march forward.

They smelled the Sunken Rot before they reached it. Truly earning its name, everyone swallowed bile as an acrid smell of decay and rotting flesh assaulted them. Cadance nearly doubled over, gagging, but was quickly pushed along by her husband. The two heavy hitters at the front bought everyone else some breathing room- just enough to get everyone to the entrance below. The group barely had time to take in the yellow and blue glow from the bioluminescent fungal flora emerging from the pit below them. Long coils of growth snaked out like vines. Fat mushroom caps swelled like oversized towers, mimicking the wizard towers of Canterlot. Thick viscous ooze dripped from the gills of the largest mushrooms, pulsing with color as it fell from fungus large enough to carve a home out of.

Phasma leapt into the hole, landing on a curved cap that dwarfed entire plazas in the city above them, sliding to the side as he called for the others to follow.

“Fly, you fools! Jump!”

Six needed no further prompting and leapt into the hole, falling a dozen lengths before crash landing onto the giant mushroom below with a splash as her impact forced more slime from its pores and into the open. The world opened suddenly. Whereas before, it only existed in the spaces she looked, lit up by helmet-mounted light sources, she found herself in a open cavern that stretched from horizon to horizon: an endless fungal jungle, writhing and glowing sickly green and bright blue, its trees were the mushrooms that towered dozens of meters high, it's floor was a carpet of mycelium and slime molds, wiggling slowly in time with luminescent pulses, and its gods heralded by distant roars and crashes far beyond sight.

The towering mushroom did not take Six’s weight without issue. It listed to the size, indenting in far where her hooves touched down. Great creaks and groans echoed across the endless cavern as the ponies and Spartans followed the two down.

“It’s falling!” Phasma yelled helpfully. “Keep going!”

“Should’ve put you on a diet,” Shining Armor grunted as he followed in Six’s deep hoofsteps.

Above, the spiders crawled. They fanned out across the ceiling, clinging to it as they gnashed their chelicerae hungrily. Albino white bodies poured out by the dozens, several beginning to drop on thick cords of webbing. The protagonists leapt down to a smaller tower cap, rolling with the fall- or crashing right through, in Six’s case.

The armored Spartan fanned her bladed wings out as she ripped straight through the cap and gills. Her left wing dug into the stalk of the massive fungal tree, pulling her to the side and throwing her about as she rode the stalk down. The whole stalk shuddered as its neighbor crashed into it, nearly throwing Six off the thing and sending her plummeting several meters to the ground below.

She craned her neck, seeking out her friends. Two things resulted from this. First, she saw them leaping from the second mushroom she was riding down, falling towards a smaller third one closer to the ground. Second, Six lost her grip, sliding out from the stalk and freefalling towards the ground.

Six had expected pain, broken armor, and potentially broken bones when she hit the floor. Instead, she hit it and kept going for half a meter, squelching into a layer of decaying matter, dirt, and mycelium. Pausing only to catch her breath, Six rolled onto her belly and clawed her way out of the writhing crater she found herself in, fighting the walls as they worked to knit themselves back together and seal the wound. Her head snapped from side to side, scanning the jungle for her allies. Spotting the shaking stalk of the third tower cap they leapt to, Six galloped over to regroup as they finally made it to the ground level.

“Injuries?” Shining barked.

“Negative!” Each Spartan replied as they got to their hooves.

“No,” Phasma answered. “We have to keep running, those giant alien spiders are no joke!”

“To where?!” Cadance asked, looking around.

“Do we have any fire?” Six asked, entirely intending on something else.

“This whole place is covered in a methane cloud,” Shining pointed out. “A single spark could detonate this section of the cave!”

“It can’t be that much gas,” Cadance reasoned. “Otherwise, we wouldn’t be able to breathe!”

“Methane is lighter than air,” Shining continued his train of thought. “It’s going to be close to the top of the cavern- we could light it on fire and stop them from coming!”

Phasma sighed, “Fine! Cover me, get the ones closest. I’ll burn them all!”

As Six fell into formation around Phasma, she nodded towards her Prince, “You sure know a lot about mushrooms, Captain.”

He smiled, “Twilight thought she could solve world hunger by mutating the stuff when she was six. It tasted worse than garbage.”

“How do you know what garbage tastes like?” Six asked.

Shining grimaced, “You get very bored in boot camp…”

The skittering horde clambered down from the oversized tower caps, closing in on the group. The Spartans and pony royals opened fire on the uttu spiders, carving through the monsters and the thick fungal forest behind their targets. Those unfortunate enough to get close met their end at Six’s wing blades and hooves, not to mention Sparrow’s crossbow finding its mark and adding a wooden unicorn horn to the head of many abominable creatures. Yet for every dozen they cut down, more spiders took their place. Their sickly pale legs stamped into the soft ground as they slowly crept closer to the group.

“We need that fire now!” Six called out as she danced through her foes, wings dicing them like fruit.

The changeling king grunted under his breath, “Really tired of the endless horde shtick…. Shining! Sweep them back and launch them up!”

“On it!” The Prince yelled back as he switched from magical bolts to a telekinetic push spell.

A thick cloud of mushroom spores and dirt sprayed upwards in a circle around the group as the Prince unleashed his magical strength against the spiders. Normally, fighting against their telekinetic field would be taxing for a unicorn, but Captain Shining Armor was more than an expert in expelling creatures. Immediately, he followed this up with a ground-pound spell, hurling a shockwave through the soft mushy mycelium underhoof.. The spell gained strength as it traveled, threatening to topple over the Spartans, while completely bowling over and flinging the spiders upwards. The tower caps toppled away from the group as the targets were lined up.

The King yelled as he cast his spell, “Get d–”

With a crack that sounded to Six’s ears like a gauss warthog’s cannon, a line of burning white energy fired from Phasma’s horn. Six had to turn her head away as her visor auto adjusted to block out the ensuing light which traveled along the energy line a heartbeat later. She watched the shadows move from in front of her hooves, swiveling around to behind her as an orb bright enough to shadow stars erupted from the changeling king. In the short glimpse she got of the now-airborne spiders, they were incinerated limb by limb as it slowly passed them on its way to the distant cavern ceiling.

Far above them, in the tunnels they had left behind, the light bounced off the stone walls for kilometers as the ball of superheated plasma approached. For a brief moment, the Unending Dark was anything but as the artificial sun extinguished all life in its path. Then, it hit.

‘Alexandria,’ Six thought, the name coming unbidden to the forefront of her mind as she witnessed the terrible destruction. A sphere of orange and blue energy– visible only due to her advanced visor screening out enough light to blind any foolish enough to look upon it directly– grew from the impact point, consuming everything within. Six fell to her side as the ensuing shockwave crashed through the formation like a tidal wave. Everyone else flew back several lengths and tumbled away, but the destruction was not yet over.

The lethal methane mix atop the cavern ignited in a growing ring of hellfire. The breach was engulfed as it started to collapse downwards, the tunnels and ceiling falling to the cavern floor. The fiery scourge reached tendrils of fire out from the inferno, setting the cavern’s ceiling ablaze for leagues upon leagues. Ash and chunks of flaming fungal growth rained down upon the survivors below, starting their own fires where the growth was dry enough to allow it to spread.

Six pushed herself to her hooves, tearing her eyes away from the mesmerizing inferno above and focusing on her soldiers and royal charges. She could see her Spartans talking, pulling each other up off the ground. She saw Cadance, blood dripping from her ears, leaning down to pluck Shining off a singed matt of moss and bringing him up to his unsteady hooves. Behind both groups, she saw King Phasma prone, struggling to get even a single hoof underneath him.

Six trotted over, digging a wing underneath the monarch to hoist him up and lean him against her bulk.

“That’s a lot bigger than I expected,” Six told him. “You’re quite impressive for a changeling.”

Phasma’s witty retort was aborted when he vomited, all but limp in Six’s wing as smoke streamed from his horn. Weakly, he spat on the ground and pointed with his head forward.

“Shel’er,” he groaned.

Six followed his nose, seeing a mass of fungus within the churned field of destruction ahead. Only, as she continued to stare at it, she noticed that the fungus was actually growing across chiseled stone blocks, each the size of a pony.

‘A structure.’

“Soldiers, on me!” Six ordered her Spartans. “Pick yourselves up and keep moving!”

The ponies and one changeling drone groaned in response, but picked themselves up regardless, used to her impossible demands. They formed a loose formation around the Prince and Princess and trudged after their leader. Six all but carried Phasma as he wilted, shaking his head.

“Have to keep moving,” he panted.

“We are,” Six answered.

“Faster,” the changeling groaned. “Loud enough to attract a megafauna!”

Six recalled the briefing Phasma gave them all. Megafauna. The worst thing down in these sunken depths. They were exactly as their name described: giant monsters. Even more giant than the oversized arachnids that nipped at their heels. At his warning, Six scanned the horizon. Smoke darkened the air as the fungal forests burned and smoldered, taking its time to extinguish itself.

Their progress towards the overgrown structure was slow, and they felt its footfalls before they saw it.

Tower caps rustled and toppled to the side as something vast strode from the smoke and into the ash plain. Six recognized it at once from her CBRN hazard classes, falling into the ‘biological’ category of potential weapons. A bacteriophage towering a hundred meters tall shook the world with its approach. With a elongated polygonal sphere for a head, a thick stem that would make redwoods seem like sticks, and four massive legs that punctured through any they fell upon like hypodermic needles– if those needles were as thick as telephone poles, it was one of the most manufactured-looking designs Six had ever seen in nature. It instilled a deep sense of danger in her soul, which she reacted to instantly.

“Double time! Now, go go go!”

She pulled Phasma onto her back, blades cutting him deep as she jostled and pinned him onto her.

Six galloped ahead of the group, practically flying over the treacherous terrain in her haste. She glanced back only once to make sure everyone was moving. At her relief, they were doing their best to try to keep pace with her. She also saw beneath the base of the megafauna’s gigantic trunk were a dozen tentacles, whipping around, cutting, and pulling everything under it into its hidden mouth like an octopus feasting.

“Storm Rider!” Phasma wheezed. “The hateful god, the doom of Anobii! A servant of Morgo–” he grunted in pain as he bit his tongue.

The safe haven loomed ahead, glowing green and blue from the fungus, and now orange and red from fire. The flames burning away the organic shield that had entombed it for millenia revealing its polished blackstone surface that seemed to eat all light that impacted it– a void in the fabric of reality made physical. To Six, it was the closest thing she saw to safety.

The footfalls of the giant grew louder as Six crossed the threshold of an open portal to the black burning pyramid. Ahead, darkness yawned once more, cut only by the flashlight of her helm, revealing yet another hallway that sloped upwards. Six deposited Phasma against a wall and turned to run to help the others. First she pulled Cadance through, the stumbling Princess still disoriented from the explosion, blood on her cheeks and spittle on her lips– she clearly had it just as bad if not worse than the exhausted changeling King.

Shining came next, smaller legs but in a far better shape. Only Cadance lacked the military training ingrained into them all: don’t look at explosions and cover your ears. Her Spartans arrived last, putting themselves between their charges and the danger. The ponies and changelings scrambled deeper into the tunnel, running or scooting backwards.

Scythes, chitin sharp enough to carve rock, slashed and hacked at the tunnel mouth, stretching in as Storm Rider arrived upon its prey. The black temple shuddered under its legs as it positioned a circular mouth against the tunnel entrance. Protruding from the circular base was a black beak, big enough to swallow a pony whole. It gnashed and bit, the sharp point scraping against the floor as acidic saliva dripped from its hungry mouth. The blackstone sizzled where it fell. Yet whatever this pyramid was made of was more than capable of resisting the hungry god’s anger.

“Away from the walls!” Spirit screeched, recoiling away from them.

The ponies huddled together around Phamsa’s prone form as red liquid shot along the grooves between the stones from deeper inside the hall. Six watched as the sanguine liquid reached the mouth of the tunnel and extended further out. It shot out like a spike, tearing straight through Storm Rider’s stem, spraying green ichor out the other side. A second spike from the other wall joined the first, impaling Storm Rider a second time.

The lesser god screeched in pain and anger, shaking the air with its fury as it ripped itself backwards, scythes trailing through the air as it fled. The red substance receded as the creature retreated, pulling back into the darkness beyond them.

For an entire minute, the ponies and changelings sat in silence, panting, catching their breath, and applied medical triage to the wounded. Mostly just to Phasma’s cuts inflicted by Six.

‘I should come up with training for how I can pick someone up later without hurting them,’ Six thought, looking down on the stallion. ‘It could be necessary for evacuating civilians and VIPs.’

“What the hay was that?!” Shining broke the silence. “You all saw that, right? The blood-thing?!”

The Spartans nodded, and Spirit explained, “That was the Queensblood! I had only ever heard stories of it, it was said to defend Her Majesty’s saints. It was said it could create entire cities from nothing, and render armies to dust.”

“... Won’t hear any complaints from me,” Shining half-smiled.

“Y-yeah,” Spirit said, drawing her hooves closer to herself. “Try not to scratch the walls.”

“Everyone up,” Six ordered. “This is no safe place. We’re heading further into this building to find out if it has a way down.”

“You think it has a way down?” Shining asked, casting a healing spell on Cadance’s ears.

“You wanna go back out there?” Six pointed to the retreating Storm Rider.

Shining hissed slowly through his teeth, “That thing put the tarrasque to shame. No ma’am!”

“Up,” Six ordered again, prodding Phasma.

“Urrfff,” he grunted.

“You alright, soldier?” Six asked him.

“No,” he answered quietly. “Panicked. Threw out a stronger spell than I meant to. Tired.”

Six sighed, “We will have to make camp in here, then. Can you walk further in?”

“No,” Phasma repeated and raised a hoof up to Six. “Uppies.”

Six rolled her eyes and crouched under Phasma, swiftly pulling him sideways on her back. She made sure to keep her wings folded, believing that was enough to not dice him again. Now falling in line with the two royals, her Spartans took the lead. The hall rose sharply and Six’s hooves pounded across thick metal grating when it leveled off. Their path opened up to one singular chamber with no other exits. It was dome-shaped, the walls beginning to glow white as they stepped into the antechamber. Grooves between the walls flickered to life like luminescent light bulbs, bringing much-needed reprieve from the darkness.

The chamber was mostly bare, save for four things. In the center, on a raised dais, a pure black altar made of the same stone as the walls, floors and ceiling, only this perfect rectangular prism had its edges outlined in Queensblood. As they approached, the blood flowed from the edges onto the top, but Six could not see what it did after that from her spot at the entrance.

To the left of the altar was a circular pad. Green emeralds lined the base of it in perfect order, and glowing blue lines marked some kind of magic circle on its top. To the right, a similar pad of red rubies mirrored its green sister. But this one was cracked in half, split from end to end. It was only when Six circled around the altar, spying out for any danger, did she see the fourth landmark of this bare chamber. A third and final pad, this one lined with gold, diamonds, rubies, and yet more Queensblood.

She gave it a healthy distance.

“I guess we’re making camp here,” Spirit said, slowly sitting down against the raised dais.

“You sure it’s safe?” Cadance said, quietly brought up to speed on the conversation she missed.

“Don’t break anything and… maybe,” Spirit answered, watching the Queensblood writhe on the top of the altar.

Pixie looked around, fiddling with her prosthetic wing, “What is this place?”

“Forward Outpost Hunter’s Grotto, Sunken Rot, Her Majesty’s Realm,” Phasma answered. All eyes turned towards him, and he motioned upwards. Between the lights, chiseled into the stones themselves, Six made out faint outlines of hieroglyphics. “Says so right there. Also says any unworthy should not touch the royal teleporter, opened and be damned and all that. Three guesses for which is the royal teleporter.”

“The other two are safe?” Shining asked.

“It doesn’t say,” Phasma shrugged, wincing and immediately regretting the action. “But judging by the look of the red one, we only need to concern ourselves with this green one. Red means stop and green means go, so uh…. I wonder where this one goes?”

“Any more long-lost stories?” Six asked, addressing her changeling Spartan.

Spirit shook her head, “Nothing. I’ve never heard of anything within the Underhive like this. There are tales of the Empress's Realm, but nothing more than fairy tales, and nothing to do with ancient esoteric public transport.”

Phasma grunted in pain as he slid off Six, slowly limping up to the altar.

“King Phasma!” Shining hissed. “What are you doing?! Haven’t you ever seen a horror movie before?! Stay away from that evil altar!”

“My job is to poke things,” the bug responded. “Yeah it’s woken up ancient evils before, but I’m still alive… What do we got here…”

“Then poke it carefully,” Shining stressed.

“You got it, Princess,” Phasma smiled, placing his forehooves on the altar and looming over it. Six stepped up beside him, ready to shield him from any explosive trap. Or bladed trap. Or noxious gas trap. Or-

“BIOS error?” Phasma gasped. “Are you fucking… Hey Six, do you have a disk copy of Windows on you? We might need to flash this thing.”

“Would VISR OS work?” Six asked. “My suit should have an adapter port.”

“What are they talking about?” Cadance asked, but Shining and the others only shrugged and shook their heads.

Phasma frowned, “I dunno if this thing has a USB port, Six.”

“What is going on?” Cadance asked them directly.

“Have you tried turning it off and on again?” Six suggested

Phasma barked a laugh, “This thing’s operating system is down. Don’t ask me how ancient mystical technology operates on the same basis as space-age futuristic stuff does. This world works in mysterious ways. Don’t say it, Cadance.”

“As does love,” Cadance ignored him. “Can you get it working again, if you know how it works?”

The changeling King shrugged, “I don’t exactly have a degree in ancient computer science, lovebutt. Last time I got something like this to work, I… oh son of a bitch.”

“What?” Six asked.

In response, Phasma extended his right foreleg above the altar. Biting into the gauze she had applied to a cut there, he ripped it offer and dug one of his fangs a bit into the cut. Cadance grimaced in disgust as blood flowed from his wound and down his fang. Phasma yanked his mouth free, spitting blood and letting the rest fall onto the altar.

The moment the drops landed, the Queensblood formed concentric circles and lines around the impact points, like a target reticule, before it converged and devoured the blood.

“Fucking blood magic,” Phasma sighed. “It’s always blood magic with ancient changelings. Don’t ask me why.”

The lights flickered as two of the teleport pads suddenly began humming with magical power. The lines atop each pulsed with green dimensional energy. The Queensblood writing on the altar flowed into new words as Phasma rebound his foreleg.

“There we go. New boot order, just as I had hoped. Yeah, I definitely planned that. Royal protocol now instated, all three teleporters are working! Wait, no one is broken.”

“Which one?” Shining asked.

“The one we need,” Six guessed, starting to pick up on how her new world worked.

“Red means down,” Phasma nodded. “And green means up. Red Queen’s realm below, and green shit above? That’s how I would have designed it.”

Pixy hammered out a dent in their faux-wing, “Soo…. this isn’t a way down, then?”

The bleeding King glanced back at the gold encrusted pad, “Not for everyone. I have activated the royal pad by bleeding all over these fine ancient electronics. However, this altar is displaying another warning: royal and one servant only. Please form a single file line, mind the pad.”

Cadance tallied everyone up, “Three royals: myself, Shining, and Phasma. Four ponies: Six, Sparrow, Spirit, and Pixy. Somepony is going to have to go back up.”

“Everyone is going to have to go back up,” Phasma raised his eyebrows. “You think this system considers you or Shining royalty?”

“Oh, fiddlesticks!” Cadance huffed. “What’s the plan now? I don’t know how long we can survive out there, especially since we’d be blind looking for an entrance to further below. It’s a miracle we found this one so quickly.”

Spirit stood up, “So it’s over, then? We’re heading back to the surface?”

“No,” Six growled. “Spartans never abandon their mission. Not while there’s still a chance at victory. I will go further with Phasma. Everyone else, you all head to the surface.”

“Ah, great,” Shining shook his head. “Splitting the party. Sounds like the most efficient way to find your grave, Six.”

Six smirked, “I already found mine. Didn’t quite fit.”

“Damn that’s a good one liner,” Phasma chuckled. “Both of us have tasted death before. I don’t really know how that’s gonna give us an edge on this, but Six punches like a girl. A really mean girl. One who you owe child payments to. We’ll be fine. Or at least, Six will; I am an absolute glutton for pain and injuries.”

To emphasize the point, Phas shook his bandaged legs and barrel.

Cadance looked to Six, “Are you sure you both will be alright? Two layers in and we’re already about to give up. You two will have to keep going and come back up.”

“It’s a Helljumper’s job to fall feet-first into hell, Princess,” Six said. “But as a Spartan, I think I do the job just as well. Besides, if we can take this teleporter down, surely we can take it right back here? Where does the royal pad lead, Phasma?”

Phasma pursed his lips, “I think its network is down and has fallen back on its emergency backup location. If that’s anything other than the Second Hive itself, I will eat… something. Something dramatic and inedible.”

Shining cocked an eyebrow, “We’re lucky to have a changeling royal with us, capable of reading hieroglyphics and knows enough about ancient changeling blood magic to accomplish all of this.”

“If I wasn’t here, you wouldn’t come down to this hell,” Phasma pointed out.

“... Are you going to be okay to keep going?” Six asked, stepping close to the changeling stallion.

“Yes,” Phasma answered instantly. Then, he wavered, leaning in close to Six, “I… Maybe. Theoretically, we might have a second shot at this, but we’re already this far and I don’t want to risk being down here a second time. My reserves are nearly tapped out, you’re gonna have to be the heavy hitter.”

“Your love reserves?” Spirit asked. “I can provide some if you need it.”

Phasma shook his head, “A drop of water in a lakebed, Spirit. I’ll just have to be careful and drink a lot the next time I get access to love.”