"We're here," Chrysalis breathes out. The trip from the north took a long time, but due to the old royal palace of the Great Changeling Empire being at the southeastern edge of the Everfree Forest, it wasn't so much longer than simply crossing the Everfree itself from west to east while also avoiding the vast majority of threats.
The ruins reclaimed by nature long ago open into what used to be the palace plaza, although neither 96 nor 68 would have any idea about it. One by one, Chrysalis' mind latches onto hive link after hive link, immediately establishing connections and instinctively scanning for any pressing issues.
That's the natural power of changeling queens. We can be stronger than a warrior if we focus our life on it or we can be better than any infiltrator, but for them it's on an instinctive level. Our inherent power is... ugh... management.
The designated place where survivors were supposed to gather hosts, according to Chrysalis' mind, roughly two hundred changelings. Judging from the strength of some hive links, the number will keep on dropping no matter what anyone does.
There are no corpses anywhere. If anyone died after arriving here, their body was eaten for any scraps of love left.
"Show yourselves," says Chrysalis quietly, standing under a crumbling, wide staircase leading to what used to be the majestic palace itself. She doesn't need to shout, because she knows everyone present will hear her voice in their mind.
The hive links approach and, slowly, 43 walks out of the palace first, quickly followed by more and more withered, battered, and overall wretched remains of her hive.
You don't know why I sent you here. You don't know why you're still alive. All you had to do to survive was get here. You trusted your Queen, and your Queen will do what she can to reward you for it.
Chrysalis, 43, 68, 96, the only four changelings remaining from the top hundred.
"Only warriors and infiltrators," Chrysalis looks up at the small crowd slowly trickling onto the stairs, "Funny. Right now I need drones or Silents."
43 looks to the left at a pile of rubble next to the palace. Slowly, twenty four small heads peek out from behind various pieces of masonry, all dented, scratched, cracked, or downright missing ears, eyes, fins, or even their stubby horns.
As painful as the sight is, it makes absolute sense that the drones would have the lowest survival rate, both in regards to the long drop and the following environmental threats. Unfortunately, it also makes perfect sense why the warriors and infiltrators hid in the remains of the palace while having the drones stay outside. One - they simply don't care, most of them. Two - 43 is a warrior. He wouldn't be able to prevent a hungry infiltrator from draining a drone in the shadows. Three - any enemy would see the drones first which would allow the rest to react.
"Which one of you is in charge?" asks Chrysalis.
"I am, Your Majesty," says 43.
"I didn't ask you, 43," Chrysalis keeps looking at the drones, "I know you little twerps always have someone who's doing the thinking for your group. Which one is it?"
A drone limps forward from behind a broken chunk of a pillar.
"Umm, me, Your Majesty," says the drone weakly. It's not even nervous. It knows it can't change anything that's about to happen.
"44986," says Chrysalis, "How many of you can work?"
44986 stumbles backwards.
"E-Everyone, Your Majesty!"
YOU ARE READING
They're EVERYWHERE!
ספרות חובביםNo one really knows how many changelings were present during the invasion of Canterlot. Unfortunately for the rest of the world, it also means that the love explosion scattered them all over the surface of Equus. These are stories of their Queen and...
