All the Queen's drones
OurLadyOfWires
Uh-oh, better hide those FOALS!
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Author's Note: There are very few reliable Points Of View that could be called into this story. Due to you not being personally present in them, there are certainly details that may not be added.
You are Flower Serenade, and you are having a nightmare.
You are having a nightmare. You are certain of it.
A painful nightmare.
A tiring nightmare.
Perhaps the longest, most realistic nightmare you ever had in your entire life.
But still, you know this is just a nightmare. Because as long as this is just a nightmare, you can still hang on to the hope that you will eventually wake up. Because as long as this is all happening inside your head, then you know that… that any second now, you will wake up… and you will be back in your happy life a-and…
And ev-verything will be alright a-and…
…
You need this to be a nightmare.
…
This nightmare, this twisted version of reality you are currently living through, began a few days ago.
It began in the Woods.
You haven't been able to sleep well, these last few weeks. To be honest, you haven't been able to sleep at all. Because every time you close your eyes you can see the things that you did. Every time the place you are in becomes too quiet, you can hear that… that noise on the very edge of your hearing, coming from somewhere far away. From deep underground, and from inside a large urn.
So, you haven't been able to sleep. You also haven't been able to eat, either. Everything you put in your mouth tasting like ash.
You haven't… you haven't even been able to talk. Every time you try the words die in your throat.
But luckily, you have found out that… that you could sleep a bit more easily whenever you did the small ritual that would take you to the Woods. You seemed to fall asleep just a little faster, and just a bit less painfully, when you pricked your hoof before laying on your bed.
So, you did just that. You would go to the Woods almost every night. You went there every night, and you would walk in the Woods until you could no longer think. You would stay there until the next morning came, with its torments and its memories and the crushing weight of the things you have done.
You went to the Woods almost every night, until a few days ago.
Until this nightmare began.
Something came to you, in the Woods. It wasn't the Master. You are sure it wasn't the Master. But still, your exhausted brain insisted that it was her. It insisted that, in this nightmare that you are in, that horrifying thing that spoke to you from the shadows was the Master.
You remember trying to run away from it. You remember failing.
And you remember the horrible things that the monster told you, when it caught you. The things it commanded you to do, before it dragged you into the ground and you suffocated in the black dirt of the Woods.
Then, the nightmare shifted.
For a moment, you almost thought you had woken up. For a moment, you almost thought it was over, and that you were back inside Mr. Lockpick's home. It certainly looked the part, and the cold sweat that covered your coat felt like it did on every other night. But you soon realized that wasn't the case, that you didn't really wake up for real. Because Mr. Lockpick was nowhere to be found, for starters.
But more than that. The front door of the house was unlocked and open, the pale moon shining in through it and illuminating the shop with its cold light. And when you left the house, to explore the town in this twisted nightmare…
The streets Ponyville, also, felt wrong. They were too cold, and too bright, and too filled with whispers, with the silhouettes of ponies appearing on the edge of your sight even though there would be nopony there when you turned to look.
But still, wanting that nightmare to end, you did what the monster told you to.
You went to the underground section of the Wildhoof Club, the doors open and unlocked as if inviting you to its dark depths.
You went to the room where they kept the… where your kept your urn. And although you tried to ignore the fact that there were four of them now, it still made you shiver when you realized you immediately knew which one of those was yours.
Because your urn spoke to you. It never really stopped speaking to you, ever since you first closed it.
And then you loaded your urn to the waiting cart, and wordlessly followed the robed ponies away from town.
You tried not to cry when that… that thing, the twisted and monstrous parody of the pegasus who helped you escape from Manehattan, came down from the night sky and joined your group.
You tried not to shiver in dread when morning came, as you looked back and realized you could no longer see Ponyville in the horizon, and you still hadn't woken up.
You tried not to break down in sobs when the strange mare joined your group, the one with the cutting light in her eyes who declared would act as your guide. Because the pitying expression she gave you as soon as she looked at you, told you in an instant that she knew exactly what you were thinking, and that the harsh truth she carried would break you even if she merely touched a consoling hoof on your shoulder. You kept your distance from her, as much as you could, as your group made its way through the countryside.
It has been two days, now, and you still haven't woken up.
But still, you cling to hope.
This has to be a nightmare.
It simply has to...
You won't know what you will do if it isn't.
- - -
- - -
- - -
Life in the Hive never changes, and you are thankful for that.
You are a changeling husk. One of the oldest and strongest alive, and currently the oldest and strongest left at the Hive, at your Queen's orders, to safeguard it during her absence.
But of course, that your Queen has physically departed from the Hive does not mean that her presence is not felt within it. Quite on the contrary. By her will, the workers continue to toil, the cocoons continue to be drained of life, and the eggs are hatched into larvae and nursed into useful drones. And what is more, the Queen has left upon her throne a magical device, one that eludes your lowly intellect, but that she still uses to communicate her will unto your inferior selves.
Something that she is doing right now, as a matter of fact.
"I do not care about that," she intones dismissively, and you nod in agreement almost out of instinct, chastising yourself for even having brought up such a lowly concern. "Soon we will have enough prey to expand the hive tenfold. In fact, soon enough we will create a new Hive, larger and grander than any before!"
"Of course, my Queen," you say, bowing to your Queen as she speaks to you through the magical artifact, "your will be done."
Your Queen, her great visage being manifested upon her throne as if she were a mirage, waves a dismissive hoof at you.
"Yes, yes, my will be done. Are there any other matters that I should know of?" she asks, her implacable eyes staring down at you, almost as if she could read your thoughts.
And of course, you hesitate at her question. You hesitate because there is another matter you think you should bring to her attention. However, you have already been reprimanded once for wasting her time with a futile concern, so you think that bringing up yet another small matter will only anger her further.
So, you hesitate. And she notices that.
"Speak, husk," she commands, and you feel compelled to obey her in the same way your wings are compelled to move when you wish to fly.
"It is the younger drones, my Queen," you say, already cringing in regret even though you have been ordered to speak. "They have been seeing things when they sleep. Visions that still cling to them even after they wake up. Ghostly thoughts that cause them fear, to the point that they can speak of little else."
You can see your Queen's visage turning into a disapproving scowl, and already you regret not having dealt with the matter you are telling her about before this scheduled report.
And you are about to continue speaking, you are about to open your mouth to assure her that this is but a small matter, something that you will take care of yourself. But before you have the chance to do so-
"Wait a minute… you mean the drones are dreaming?" she says, her tone… not exactly disapproving, but also not curious either. She almost sounds cautious, her gaze turning thoughtful as she slowly continues to speak. "Tell me, husk, what are these dreams like? You mentioned they are feeling fear, right? What do the drones say, when they wake up after those dreams?"
The Queen sounds less displeased, now, at least towards you. So, you answer her a little more confidently.
"They speak of a dark place, my Queen. Their words vary, but most of them inevitably describe a dark forest an-"
"IMPOSSIBLE!"
But whatever it is that you said, or whatever it is that the Queen thought about, her expression immediately turns back into a scowl. A terrifying hiss coming from her magically-projected self that makes your body instinctively curl up in fear.
"You are wrong and the drones are foolish," she says to your cowering form, your head nodding in agreement without need for conscious prompt. Your body almost glued to the ground as you do so. "Drones do not dream!"
Her mirage-self even slams her hoof against the throne, your body wincing in reflex even though the movement produced no sound at all. You dare not speak up, throughout all of this. You don't even dare to move from your bowing position.
"Drones do not dream… and I try not to," she says, her tone so low that you almost think she is speaking to herself.
A few moments later the spell flickers and disappears, your Queen's image fading away without another word and folding back into the glowing green stone that is the magical artifact.
You maintain your bowing posture for a few more moments, your body still locked in terror from having witnessed your Queen's displeasure. But soon enough you are able to look up, turning your eyes towards the throne and seeing nothing but the magical item that lies upon it.
And only after confirming that your Queen is indeed no longer here do you manage to calm down.
You think back to your Queen's words, wondering why exactly she reacted like that to the drones'… "dreams". Because it is true what she said, that lowly changelings such as yourself do not dream.
And yet, you could see that your Queen also knew something else about that. Something that she did not share with you.
Well, you think, that's a given. The Queen claims to be the oldest creature in the land, so of course she knows something about this. After all, she knows everything.
But still, if she did not think it was important to give you an order on how to act upon the drone's behaviors, you understand that she means that you are not supposed to do anything about it.
So, you return to your other duties.
After all, you have a Hive to oversee, and plenty of your Queen's orders to obey.
- - -
- - -
- - -
You have walked for three whole days.
You have been pulling the cart, carrying your urn, for three whole days.
You have been hearing its whispers for three whole days now.
Most of the time what you hear is Autumn Cloud's voice. You hear screams of pain, you hear him begging for release, or death, or worse things. The noise is deafening to you, even though you know that in reality it is not any louder than the lowest whisper. The noise is deafening, even though you know only you can hear it, and that it is inside your head.
You hear Autumn Cloud most of the time. But sometimes, very rarely, the urn whispers with… another voice.
And every time it does, you think about running away. Even though you know this is just a nightmare, you think about fleeing, about galloping into the night. Because you know that if you do that, then the twisted version of the pegasus will kill you, and that will be a better fate than most.
However, despite all that, you still hang on to hope. You keep pulling your cart, and following the guide, and doing what the monster that spoke in your Master's voice bid you to do.
Because you just want to wake up.
It is night, right now. But the hooded ponies you have been following are no longer walking, and the mare that has been guiding you is sitting on top of a tall rock as if she is waiting for something.
And that something eventually arrives.
You didn't see where it came from. You didn't see, and you honestly don't care. You are too tired to care. Too tired, and too cold, and too hungry, and too desperate to just have this all end to care about anything. You keep close to your urn, even as the other ponies cautiously gather around the approaching figure of the Master. You keep close to your urn because your urn is at least something you can predict.
You have no idea what horrible things are about to happen in your nightmare, but throughout all of it your urn has been a constant. A horrible certainty to which you are able to fall back in face of these new, horrible uncertainties.
You keep close to your urn, huddling next to it, hiding from the moon's glare in the space that is between the urn and the back of the cart. But still, you can't stop yourself from hearing the conversation that is happening close to the rest of the group.
"You have made here in good time."
"Of course I made it in good time! I know better than to just get a map and walk in a straight line. Now tell us how this will go so we can get this done with."
"Your impatience is showing… but very well. I have been able to enter the hive itself several times. Its interior shifts, and is delightfully confusing, but I have not been able to locate our prize thus far. I believe we will have to take control of the place itself, perhaps to unobscured the chamber in which they keep locked their greatest treasures."
"Anything I should be worried about?"
"I do not think so, no. They wield the powers they sit upon like foals. It would be best if you shine bright, thought."
"I will be the judge to that…"
"But before that, another matter must be settled. The interior of the hive changes, but its many secret exits do not. Take the Forge-touched one and collapse them, use the monsters to draw attention and invade through the main entrance once you are done. I will be waiting for you at the heart of the hive."
"I take it you will take the Edge-drunk colt with you since you are planning to go for the heart, while the rest of us create a distraction?"
"Quite so."
You kept your eyes closed shut, throughout the whole thing. You didn't want to look at them, as they had that conversation. You didn't even want to listen to it, but the urn seemed to quiet down while they were talking almost as if to mock you. So you had no choice but to listen.
But still, you have no idea who just appeared, and you don't care if they are already gone.
At this point, you are really just trying your best not to fall asleep, because you don't want to find out what worse things will happen if you fall asleep during a nightmare.
You only open your eyes once the mare, the one who has been guiding you, calls you. And even then, you don't get any farther away from your urn than you absolutely have to.
Because your urn has gone quiet.
And you know… you simply know that this can't mean something good.
You only half-heartedly hear the things that the mare is saying, something about instructions of what to do, where to go, how to stay, and other things that your exhausted mind can't really keep up with. What little mental energy you still have being wholly concerned at trying to figure out why your urn is so damn quiet.
Until the mare says something that makes your eyes go wide in surprise and fear.
"Alright then, I'll only ask this once," she says, "does anypony has any questions?"
You raise a shaking hoof at that, your numb mind refusing to believe what you just heard her say.
"Y-you… did you really just told us… t-that we have to… we h-have to open t-the urns…?" you ask.
And the regretful expression that the mare answers you with almost makes you think that she is a real-life pony, and that you are not just imagining all of this.
But now you understand why your urn is so silent.
Because it is smiling.
The mare doesn't answer your question. She does not need to.
Your nightmare is about to get worse.
[Flower Serenade has gained a second level of Dread.]
- - -
- - -
- - -
The Hive is under attack.
The very thought grates at you, making you equal parts irate and disgusted. No creature dares attack the changeling Hive. No creature that is not a changeling enters this place and lives.
But you are not being attacked by creatures.
You bring your wrath under control, if only barely. Your age and size meaning that you are able to think even while the rest of the Hive enters into a defensive frenzy. And of course, being in charge of the Hive during the Queen's absence means that you are able to put that frenzy to good use. You order the hatcheries and the cocoon halls sealed, and cower the younger and less useful drones into hiding while their larger and more powerful siblings move to defend the hive.
The only problem is that… you do not yet know exactly what you are defending the hive against.
"It is ponies! I saw the equines making their way into the main entrance!"
"Magic! Magical beasts! The Hive's wards have been broken!"
"It is monsters! It can only be monsters from far away lands!"
Gathered in the throne room together with the other husks, the largest and best liars left behind in the Hive together with you, you listen to the confused and panic-filled reports of the drones that had been close to the Hive's entrance. They came running to you as soon as they saw there was trouble, of course, but so far no two of them have given you the same story, let alone any useful information.
"Quiet!" you hiss, shutting the small drones up, "I don't care what is attacking the Hive. They will be made into food for their transgression. Drown them! Drown them in our numbers!"
Your orders, your words, your certainty of your species' superiority over these invaders, whatever they may be, riles up your siblings into a bloodthirsty frenzy. And their reaction spreads out even further, to the changelings that could only hear you, then to the ones who were even farther away from the throne room, and then to every last changeling in the Hive.
You don't have to say anything else, as the chorus of buzzing wings turns into a cacophony, and a wave of black carapaces begins to fly towards the outer tunnels to meet the coming invaders.
It does not go well.
The Hive is a great mountain, hollowed out by the will and magics of your Queen. There are countless exit tunnels on the mountain itself, and several more that were dug out from underground tunnels, leading to hidden exits far from the hive. And thanks to all those exits, and the superior flight abilities of your species, your siblings are usually capable of quickly surrounding any creature that is foolish enough to approach the Hive. To the point that, nowadays, the Hive is surrounded by a lifeless wasteland.
However, word quickly comes to you that the underground tunnels, those leading to the exits farther away from the hollowed mountain, have been collapsed.
You do not think that to be a problem, at first.
But only at first.
Not long after, a runner comes back from the outer reaches of the Hive, reporting to you in the depths of the throne room. The runner says that the outer exits, the countless holes and cave-entrances that dot the surface of the Hive, have also been blocked. Walls of hard ice have, impossibly, somehow formed on those entrances, and an unnatural storm can be seen outside of the Hive itself.
And if the runner is to be believed, the storm is making its way into the Hive itself. A burning storm, the runner says. A cruel storm that somehow laughs and neighs and drags in the changelings caught in its limits, no matter what lie or shape they are wearing.
You strike the runner for spouting such nonsense, irate at how little sense he is making.
But regardless. The Queen had left behind eight husks, counting yourself. The eight of you, together, are the single most powerful changelings present in the entire Hive.
You order three of them to go deal with that. This storm, whatever it is, is certainly being caused by a magical beast. A group of husks such as yourself is capable of dealing with manticores, and hydras, and even an Ursa Minor, so the three of them will certainly be able to handle that.
You send out three of your husks.
But several minutes later, you realize that nothing else has happened. No runner has returned from the outer parts of the Hive, bringing reports of what is going on. None of the three husks return. Nothing. And given how the only way to communicate within the Hive is through word of mouth, that means you are effectively blind inside the throne room. The throne room itself is a central room, ideal for coordinating and controlling the Hive, but only if you actually have changelings coming and going to act as your emissaries.
You order two more of your husks to go, but with specific orders to only find out what is happening and then return, regardless of what they see.
And after what feels like an eternity, a single husk finally returns. Alone. Crawling on the ground with his wings torn off, and his hindlegs frozen.
"They can see us…! The light can cut through our lies…!"
That is the only thing he can say, before he simply stops moving.
You look around at the last other two husks with you, hesitation clear on their faces as they look back at you. And you are about to order them to follow you, deciding to take care of things yourself, when you hear a deep, rasping voice coming from somewhere nearby.
"The item sitting upon the throne. Do not permit it to break. Apart from that, clear the room for me."
And you barely have enough time to look upwards, to face the direction from where the voice is coming from, before a blurred mass of sharp feathers takes up your whole vision from the neck down.
The last thought that runs through your mind is that you don't understand how it is that you are looking at your body from so far away, and why your head is so close to the floor.
- - -
- - -
- - -
This isn't a nightmare.
This is reality. You are awake.
And you hate this.
All of this.
Every step is agony.
The realization that you are awake, and that you are a dirty, disheveled, shivering mess that has not slept in several days, hit you the moment you opened the urn.
And the monster, that looks like Autumn Cloud the same way that a foal wearing a blanket looks like a ghost, burst out of the urn with an intensity that you almost thought was joy.
It hates you, and you hate it.
But unlike you, the monster seems to be smiling about all this.
And that smile only makes your hate burn all the brighter.
You hate how its roars echo through the storm that it leaves on its wake, to the point that it seems to be coming from everywhere at once.
You hate how it only half-freezes its victims. It is intentional, you know. It wants you to be able to hear them, the all-too-pony screams of pain that come from the side-tunnels and the passages you ignore as you head deeper into this place. It wants to see how you will react as your group leaves those screams behind, or when they lower into a shivering whimper and then cease.
You hate how it sneers at you. How it watches you. How it never really lets you out of its sight, and how it has covered you with its cold and its weight and its hate for this whole cursed world that it is slowly working to Unmake.
But still, you continue to follow the group. Because even though you hate all of this so very much, the only thing that you really want is for all of this to end.
You just want this to be over.
So, you keep walking behind the group.
And every step you take is agony.
The four of you, who are leashed to the monsters, are following the silent mare touched by Winter and the wide-eyed stallion heavy with Forge. The four monsters making a wide circle of storm and spite around the group, keeping the bug-ponies away, or freezing and shattering them whenever they try to attack you.
And guiding the six of you is the… the strange-looking mare. The mare who seems to know exactly where she is going, and who somehow causes the bug-ponies to revert back to their original forms with but a glance.
Every now and then one of the four monsters, most of the time that being your own, breaks off from the circle, picking one of the side-passages at random and storming into it in a deluge of cold and pain. But you almost always manage to reel it in soon enough, and that never seems to slow down the mare that is guiding you.
As time passes, less and less of the bug-ponies try to attack you. Less and less sharp pieces of ice, the broken remains of frozen corpses, litter the ground that you are walking through.
And soon enough, the only sound that you can hear is the hateful neighing of the snowstorm that surrounds you.
And you reach the center of the cavernous cave complex.
You know that because the horrif-… because the Master is there, together with the twis-… together with… with Comet Feet. Or rather together with the monster that Comet Feet has become.
You would have preferred this a lot better if this was just a nightmare.
The four monsters that have been following you make their way to the cavernous ceiling of the large throne-room you are in, bickering among themselves within a miniaturized storm in a way that feels almost tame.
And to your great regret, you are able to hear the conversation that follows, between the bright mare and the twisted shape of your Master.
"Watchpony above… this is… this is Moldywarp's Stone!"
"Under the shadow of which she would hide the secrets she did not wish to be stolen, yes. That is, until the Stone itself was stolen."
"No, no, no, this can't be right… Because the Stone was stolen by…"
"Correct."
"So that is why these bugs feel so familiar… this queen of theirs you told me about, she is a Granddaughter! And those bugs are her spawn. But that still doesn't explain the Stone being here. The Granddaughters were hunted, by the Dartsponies and the Axe-bearers and whoever else was clinging to a modicum of order during all that mess. But the Stone itself was hunted by the Black-Flax's Names. All of her Names. And I refuse to believe they didn't find it."
"Which means…"
"... which means that they did find it… and the Stone was given away willingly. She allowed the thieves to keep it, once she found out that it was being used…"
"To hide a secret, yes, as it befits its original owner. Because what better secret to hide than the last Granddaughter? Each of her sisters ran to a different History, each of them met a different gruesome end. But not this one."
"Fitting, I suppose…"
"Mhmm… but that is beyond the point. Scour this place. Find me my prizes. The magical device that is upon the Stone probably only works in a single direction, or else the defenders of this place would have called upon their queen before we overpowered them. We will wait here until she makes contact. Put that idle time to use."
You hear all of that, but you don't really pay any attention to it.
You wouldn't have been able to understand what they were saying even if you had tried.
The only thing that really reached you, is that your group will now wait.
You will wait, and wait, and it will only take longer for this to be over.
You are not really sure how much more of this you can take. You have no idea how you even managed to hold on for this long.
Every moment is agony.
And whenever you think of that, whenever you look up at the localized storm at the far ceiling of this hall, you swear you can see the clouds looking back at you.
You swear they are smiling.
- - -
- - -
- - -
You are Princess Luna.
That is your secret. That is the big lie. That is the truth everyone believes.
You are Princess Luna, and as long as the world believes in that, then that is the truth. The final, immutable truth.
At least as long as eyes, and ears, and minds are concerned.
You look out at the window as you watch the sun tamely lower itself on the horizon, the skies turning darker as the pale moon appears on the opposite window.
"Thank you, sister dear," you say in a sweet voice to the… to the bound, thin-looking, half-cocooned and nearly unconscious figure of Princess Celestia that you keep in the middle of your room, right next to your bed.
And the large pony, her expression one of blissful ignorance thanks to your constant efforts, gives you an exhausted nod. You think she also tries to say something, probably that you are welcome or that she loves you, but you don't really care.
You take a short sip of her love, for good measure, relishing how sweet it still tastes even after all this time, and you turn around to take care of other matters.
Because you have several plans, all of them currently in motion. You have several plans, and they all require your constant attention. But oh, how you are already reaping the rewards…
You have already taken care of your daily affairs. Posing as the white Princess, orchestrating the capture of just a few more key figures in your court, making sure that more and more of your drones are smuggled into the city without any problems, all of that while keeping appearances and making sure no suspicions are raised. And now, you turn to your nightly concerns. Posing as the blue Princess, making sure your prisoners are smuggled out of the city, overseeing your Hive, things like that.
This has been your routine, almost every single day.
And you are relishing every moment of it. You are relishing the power of being in charge.
So, you head to the working desk you have in your room, and you flare your horn to activate the magical artifact you have on it.
It is a special item, this one. One that allows you to communicate with your Hive even through the influence of your Throne.
You don't really remember how you acquired it, or how it works. But you don't really care.
You activate it with a surge of magic and watch as the image of your Throne Room slowly comes into being.
But your smile disappears from your face as you realize it is not your servant who is looking back at you from the other side of the magical spell.
- - -
"Ah, there she is. The last Granddaughter."
"What… WHAT?! Who are you? HOW did you get there?!"
"Do not be alarmed, young one. I can assure you tha-"
"I am NOT a 'young one', and I am NOT playing games here. Answer me at once or I will DESTROY you!"
"Oh? Very well then. I am, let us say, an interested party. And I got here, and this might interest you more, by massacring your defenses and killing everything that stood between me and your throne room."
"… you… You did… what…?"
"But before you lose your temper, allow me to say two things. One, most of your assets were left untouched. Your eggs, your prisoners, and of your spawns that did not attack me, they are still alive… wherever they chose to hide in this vast hive of yours. And two, they are alive as a show of good faith, for I wish to make you a proposition. A deal, if you will."
"A… a proposition? A proposition?! You just attacked my Hive, killed my children, and you expect me to listen to a deal?!"
"It is exactly because I have done this, that I have proven that I am able to do this much, that I wish to make a deal. Because you recognize strength, Granddaughter. You have already shown yours, by the guise you wear and the reign you have stolen. And as things currently stand I believe I have shown mine. So, my proposition is based on how we can gain more without making enemies of each other."
"… proceed. And stop calling me that, whatever that means. I am Queen Chrysalis, and you will address me as such!"
"Very well."
"Huh… curious…"
"I know of your ploys, Queen Chrysalis. I know of your position in Canterlot, and how you have the pony kingdom under your thrall. I know that, and I have no qualms with that. The only reason I really even came here, and unfortunately offended you, was because I believed you had the Moon Princess within your hive. I wished her for myself."
"Well, I don't have her. So you just made an enemy out of me for nothing."
"Hopefully not. The opposite, in fact. I would like to propose that we work together. I have means that could be of use to you, and I have no aspirations to be your rival in your dominating schemes. The fact that I am standing here already proves that my means are better than your drones, or at least the ones you left to defend your hive. I offer, then, my services as an ally, in exchange of one single thing…"
"Huh... that doesn't sound uninteresting… But what would that thing be?"
"The Sun Princess. That which is in your possession. Now, before you ask, I do not ask you to give her to me. Less than that. I ask that you prove to me that you are also willing to bargain in good faith. If I had stolen the Moon Princess from you, then we would be bargaining from equal positions, but as things currently stand you have an unfair advantage… Kill the Sun Princess, Queen Chrysalis. Do that and our pact will be sealed."
"What…? What?! WHAT?! You storm into my Hive, kill my subjects, threaten ME and expect me to do… to do that?! I do not need you. I do not need ALLIES! I have already won! And if you think I feel threatened just because you have invaded my Hive then you have something else coming for you!"
"I will give you fair warning… that if you do not accept our deal, I will be forced to destroy y-"
"You are a deranged LUNATIC! I do not care what you are, what you think, or from what hole you crawled out of. My Hive was nearly empty of my servants, and I can always spawn MORE. And I will send every last pony, servant and thrall I have after you for this slight against me. I WILL HAVE YOUR HEAD ON A SILVER PLATTER BY THE END OF THIS WEEK-!"
In her anger, Queen Chrysalis undid her spell before she even finished shouting her wrath.
- - -
"Well, that just happened."
"Unfortunate… and she didn't seem to remember her heritage either."
"Maybe she was too young when she was brought here?"
"Maybe. Or perhaps the Stone hid some secrets even from her own mind… But it matters not. Do it."
"Oh? You were serious about it? You actually want me to do it?"
"A threat is no good if one does not follow through with it."
"It will destroy it, you know. Subversion is a powerful effect, but it is also destructive by its very essence. And I am sure you will be able to do wonders with the Stone given time."
"If the Queen makes an enemy out of us, then time is precisely the one thing I do not have. The Moon Princess is not here, so she is certainly dead. Harmony, then, is unachievable. The cult, also, only has a hooffull of Branded. Perhaps their species' eyes have grown dull to the Glory, for they seem uninterested in seeking it. And the Moon… we have no idea of how to reach it. Only one path remains, then."
"Huh. Regrettable."
"Yes. The very definition of it."
"But I am not about to let the chance to destroy something like this pass. Alright then, let me get to work…"
- - -
You heave in anger, the crystal horseshoe you are wearing slamming against the ground with a bell-like sound as you stomp your hoof against the ground.
The nerve… the gall of that… that monster, whatever that thing was, to have talked to you like that.
He expected you to kill Princess Celestia, to kill your prize, in exchange of a promise? Of an offer to work together?!
It grates at you that he attacked your Hive. It grates at you that he was sitting on your throne. But still, it matters little. The monster was bluffing, you are sure of it. Because maybe he… or she, or it, whatever it was. Maybe it was able to punch through your defenses, to the point that it could reach your Throne Room. But like you said, your Hive is nearly empty of your drones and husks. And what is more, your Hive is an enormous complex of caves and tunnels. Whatever the monster did, it probably only managed to make a run for your Throne Room to pull off this bluff. At this exact moment, your smaller drones and your workers must be evacuating the Hive in droves, from its countless exits.
Sure, you might lose a few prisoners and some other treasures. But that matters little.
Because Equestria is already yours.
In a few more months, you will have a new Hive. One that encompasses the entirety of the mountain where Canterlot is perched, which will be tunneled and hollowed out at your command. Soon, every last pony city will be a hunting ground, and you will be able to feed enough of your children to darken the skies.
And right now? Right now you will plot your revenge against that interloper. You will send runners back to the Hive, your trustworthy husks who are experienced in spying, to determine the identity of your newest enemy. And then… then you will bend every last institution the ponies have at their disposal to hunt them down.
The perfect plan, to bleed both your new enemy and the ponies dry.
"In fact," you say to yourself, your eyes narrowing as you remember something you have been told… a report from one your husks, from a backwater town, that spoke about… "In fact, there might be a chance that I already know who my enemy is… or at least where he is based from…"
You think about that, pulling at your memories as you try to remember what exactly that report was about… there are so many things for you to keep an eye on, so many small actors and agents to delicately balance th-
…
-when suddenly, your thoughts grind to a halt.
Something is wrong…
You don't understand what it is. You don't even understand why you are having this feeling.
But you can feel that… that something is wrong-
…..
-with you.
Something is VERY WRONG with you.
"What… what is going on? W-what is this?!" you say out loud, bringing up your forelegs and eyeing your body as panic builds up inside of you.
But the feeling only grows stronger.
….;;;;
It feels like a sickly light. Like rancid honey, oozing into your room through the edges of the walls.
You feel as if something is reaching out to you.
You feel like you will never be able to tell a lie again.
"What is happening to me?!"
;;;;;!!!!!!!
"My Queen! Something… something is wrong with us!"
Your personal guards, the husks you have patrolling your area of the castle and who you have standing by your door, storm into your room, panic clear on their faces.
And you can see it in them, as well. You can see how their bodies… you can see how their lies are slowly being corroded from the inside. How the opinion the world has of them will slowly crumble and fade into nothingness.
And you immediately understand that… that the monster, that creature you spoke to just now. It is doing this to you. It is doing something to you, and your husks and… and probably every last one of your children.
All your guises, all your powers, all your lies. They will all fade soon.
You… you have until the end of the night, at most. YOU have until the end of the night, at least. Your children… you feel like their lies will not last them more than a few hours.
Your rage burns inside of you as you realize how utterly ruined your plans have been. Because there is no way you will be able to do anything without being able to pose as the Princess. You would still have things under control even if every last one of your children lost their ability to lie. But having that happen to you?
Your plan is ruined.
But this is NOT the end of Queen Chrysalis…
No, you still have a few hours left. And all your pieces are still in place.
You will just have to take what you can, burn the rest, and run.
- - -
"The shadows of the Stone are attached to them, almost like an umbilical cord. It might be a blessing for added protection, it might be a curse of possession and ownership, or perhaps dept. But whatever it is, the light will follow them back through it… It will take me a few hours, to Subvert the Stone. But this being a thing of
"Good. See to it."
"It will also destroy the Stone."
"I am aware. But given the current circumstances… a lot more things will have to be destroyed, if the Mansus is to survive. Comet Feet, make ready for us to leave. And you four… let go of your leashes. Set your horrors free. They will know what to do from there, until their time in the Wake is over and they disappear. Order them… to douse the lights."
"... are you absolutely sure you are going to go down that path…?"
"Neither of us can reach for the Glory, Name. And if none of them will, then I am not going to wait for the Worms to come in."
[The Windigo summoners have given a terrible order to their summons. Each of them have received a level of Dread.]
[The Windigos have been let loose within the Changeling Hive.]
Queen Chrysalis has until the end of the night before she loses the ability to transform. The husks and drones she has with her in the Royal Castle only have a few hours before they suffer the same fate.
She believes every last changeling, in every last city, is also suffering the same problem.
Due to her circumstances, Chrysalis will only be able to coordinate her children in Canterlot, which include her most elite husks present in the castle as well as countless drones infiltrated in the city itself. Her wrath demands that she do one last thing before fleeing the city and leaving her plans behind.
QUEEN CHRYSALIS HAS DECIDED TO:
[] Kill Princess Mi Amore Cadenza.
"That monster wants a dead alicorn? Well, it will have a dead alicorn. But not the one it was hoping for. And you wouldn't have it any other way. You have felt a deep hatred for the pink alicorn ever since the first time you laid your eyes on her. You had other plans for her, but death will have to do. Although the task will be difficult, and you will have to concentrate all your efforts in it."
-Princess Mi Amore Cadenza will die.
-The battle will probably cause great damage to the Royal Castle.
[] Slaughter the Royal Guard.
"You have plans. Plans of conquest, plans of power, and now plans of vengeance. But all those plans will work better if you have a weakened foe. Your battle against the monster, whatever it is, will still rage on, but for now your main target is still the waiting banquet that is ponykind. Shatter their shield, topple their walls. Order your changelings to wear the guise of soldiers, and send them out to slay their companions during this last night of freedom you will be afforded."
-Will cause catastrophic damage to the Royal Guard, and some of Canterlot's infrastructure.
-Captain Shining Armor will die, being among the casualties.
[] Unleash your children into Canterlot.
"You had planned to make the ponies into long term cattle. But the fact that your plans have been ruined doesn't change the fact that ponies are nothing but food! Use your guises to impersonate a Princess, summon the entirety of the Guard into your castle for whatever reason. Have your children FEAST for one violent night. You will recoup your position later, with plenty of prisoners and fat bellies to command."
-Will cause catastrophic casualties among the population of the city of Canterlot.
Four hour moratorium, forty-four hours of voting. Forty-eight hours total.
Vote for as many as you like. Only a single option will win.
"And all the Queen's drones and all the Queen's men,
will never sleep soundly, not ever again."
will never sleep soundly, not ever again."
