Even faint voices echo far and wide through otherwise silent underground tunnels, especially to a changeling's hearing and doubly so to a warrior of Five's caliber. As soon as she hears the quiet conversation from far far away, she transforms her hooves slightly to incorporate softer padding and dims the bioluminescent glow of her blue eyes. Darkness itself should be enough of a cover for her to reach anyone without night vision undetected.

Short while later, at the end of a long corridor, she spots two heavily armed equines of about two thirds her size and smiles to herself.

Mission successful.

Granted, she could just go to the dwarf checkpoint and announce herself but the trip from the western outpost has been long and unbelievably boring so she decides to stretch her skills. Not by punching the dwarves out, of course, that would be too easy. No, even as a warrior she has to hone the softer of changeling skills.

She sneaks right to the edge of the sphere of light cast by an electric lamp hanging from a utility rack behind the dwarves' backs. The two are clearly good guards, having the light source behind them to avoid being blinded and ruining the vision of anyone looking their way.

So, a portable barricade blocking the entire narrow tunnel, two dwarves, and a utility rack with a power source. How to get through?

Five could turn invisible. It's a difficult trick for a warrior but she managed to learn it over time, the problem remains that the dwarves would notice the twin small saddlebags on her waist anyway. However, one doesn't spend so much time with Six without learning a trick or two regarding electronics.

From one of the saddlebags, she pulls out a smooth marble, puts it into her mouth, and after a moment of internal shapeshifting she spits it out directly at the utility rack.

The lamp goes dark as the marble knocks the power coupling out of the socket. Before the dwarves can even turn the headlamps on their helmets on, she's already jumped over the barricade, grabbed the marble, and is galloping in complete silence deeper into the tunnels, no damage done, no trace left behind.

There are several more encounters along the way which she successfully avoids, other than one where a group of miners walks straight towards her with mining gear and lets her pass. After all, it's not as if she's an enemy or anything.

Strangely enough, so far she hasn't managed to sense Two's mind link and can't see any reason why she'd be hiding so she's been following Cryo's.

The scenery changes sharply from smooth but stone tunnels into metallic white of Silversmith hallways. No doors are closed and dwarves are rushing about their jobs everywhere around so it's beyond Five's skills to remain undetected. Several soldiers walk by and salute her with a curious glance. When she salutes back, they simply continue without a word. The aren't that many changelings and Five specifically is well-known among the military ranks for the guards to remember she hasn't been sent here with this expedition but they also know that changelings do changeling things which they rarely need to explain to anyone.

After reaching a well-lit but rather empty small plaza, Five's suddenly assaulted by the feeling of being watched. She looks around, listening to the instinct which has never proved her wrong.

Crates of supplies, tools, wiring, devices.

A flower pot with two tiny blue dots is staring at her.

She smirks and crosses her forelegs on her chest.

"Fine, you got me, Eleven."

The flower pot transforms into Eleven's main body while several other objects in the vicinity which she completely missed transform into the smaller ten and pile on her into a one-on-one group hug.

"I missed you!" says the main Eleven.

"Same. You have no idea how boring it was with only Six, Seven, and the Hundreds. Always just machines, books, or menial labor. Where's Two?"

"In Canterlot!"

"What?" Five considers herself a rather stoic changeling but this comes as a shock.

"She found tunnels north leading to Chrysalis' old hive and then used the tunnel to Brauheim to build a shortcut to Canterlot."

"Useful but risky," assesses Five with a nod, "Alright, we'll have to do this without her then. I got a mission from boss and Seven which, if it works, will let us connect this city with the west outpost via a teleporter."

"Yay!" main Eleven cheers while several of his other bodies hoof bump.

"I feel the same way. Now, get me the Hundreds who came with you as well as the leading dwarf engineers around here. This isn't going to be easy."


Magpie coughs weakly which comes out as a set of wheezes and does very little to ease the pain in his chest.

So damn cold…

Makes me wish Cassius was already here to chop my head off or something. Better than slowly choking on my own blood due to pneumonia.

He can only barely feel the rest of his body which, honestly, can be considered a blessing at this point. The raised cage he's slumped in is too small for him, making him huddle around the one small piece of blanket he got so that he wouldn't freeze to death in the wide open plaza which, as he recalls, used to be prone to gusts of wind. If there's a good thing about the lack of sun these days it's that the order of nature is so screwed by now that while it's freezing there's almost no air flow.

He's too weak but, out of habit, he still tightens a fist with both his forelegs several times, noting that his talons don't close completely anymore. Having been around Gem for long enough, he knows that a sign like this means that even if he by some miracle isn't executed in the end he'll remain crippled for the rest of his life.

Well, time's running out. Griffons finished what the minotaurs failed to do. Suck on that, savages. Catbirds rule!

He cracks a smirk. Fun really is where one finds it.

His cage shakes a little. He doesn't even bother opening his eyes. Over the past few days, barely a double-digit amount of griffons came to scream at him and "officially denounce" him as a Redtalon despite the loudspeakers around the city announcing the "opportunity" on a daily basis. Maybe Crimson and that bastard Tasheed were right and the pro-Redtalon sentiment is much more widespread than Magpie would believe.

A soft bean-bag ball bounces off of his face pressed against the bars.

Of course, with such a massive food shortage all over the place, griffons who came to throw something at him couldn't waste rotten fruit or vegetables and the guards made sure no one threw flagstones… after the first incident.

His left hind paw torn open and badly healed twitches. It did remind him to keep his limbs inside the cage all the time until the guards installed a bucket full of bean-bag balls the griffons could throw. If hurled with enough strength, the hurt but couldn't do more than bruise which returned the option of letting his limbs hang out to him.

The ball bounces off of his face pressed against the bars. He doesn't give the thrower the satisfaction of opening his eyes or reacting. Besides, the blow was barely noticeable.

Face again. Exactly the same spot. Weak hit.

Again.

And again.

That's some precision you got there…

And exact timing… accurate like a metronome.

Magpie opens his eyes with an exhausted and desperate frown. A griffon and, probably, a pony are standing under the dais with the hanging cage. The pony is completely bundled up in heavy winter clothes, is wearing a hood, and its muzzle is covered by a scarf. From the short muzzle, Magpie can hazard a guess that it's a mare but the only thing he can see through his haze of exhaustion are strangely pronounced brownish-orange eyes. Are they glowing or something or is it just the reflected light of the two lamps on the dais?

The griffon currently throwing the ball and catching it again bears golden head feathers, bright blue eyes… no, teal eyes, and a midnight blue coat from the neck down, only a few hair of which are visible as the rest of his body is covered by a similar cut of winter clothing as the pony is wearing. The griffon is watching Magpie with a scowl but there's something completely wrong about it.

As if… as if someone had scowling explained to them but this was their first try.

"You, Redtalon baddie!" the griffon raises his voice, making the six armed guards surrounding the dais glance his way.

Baddie? Who uses-

No… please no…

The ONE thing I didn't want to happen…

"Traitors like you don't deserve any respect!" continues the griffon while the pony approaches one of the guards, watches him up close as he glares back, and then walks up to the next one, "Or hugs, you son of a boop! You're not nice, you kill griffons and lie about it!"

Magpie closes his eyes again, breathes out, and keeps listening to the most PG hateful monologue coming from someone who clearly has never said a real bad word about anyone.

"-and you still owe me a ride!" definitely-not-Three finishes his speech as he walks up to the cage and whispers, "Mister Magpie, it's us!"

Great, and now they're both dead.

Magpie opens his eyes to roll them but to his surprise the griffon guards are only standing there, staring ahead. He looks at the mare.

"...Gem…?" he croaks weakly. Wrong eyes, wrong size, but… it can't be Thirteen, right? There's no way she could hypnotize six guards without them noticing.

She shakes her head and nods towards who must be griffon Three.

"It's Thirteen, she heard on the radio that you were in trouble. Something weird happened to her. No time to explain," whispers Three, "We're here to get you out."

"...can't..."

"Come on!" Three insists, "She's not sure how long the hypnosis will last but the guards are out of it for now."

"...the cage… reinforced... they don't have… keys..."

Three looks at Thirteen and asks through the hive link to avoid the guards hearing them discussing details about the escape in fear it could break the hypnosis:

"Can you bite through the bars or melt them?"

Magpie's eyes bulge as Thirteen walks up, reaches upwards to the cage, and her hoof unfurls into a weird set of claws. She runs one over the bar and backs off.

"No, at least not right now. If I had time to prepare, I think I know how I could melt it but without a proper source of love it's going to take time. This body seems to be made to work with little to no resources and chances to refill."

"Do you have any ideas on how to get out?" whispers Three again, "We'll have to come back later otherwise. Thirteen can't break the cage without preparation."

"...good..." wheezes Magpie.

"No, not good!" Three pouts, "We have to help you-"

Magpie slowly shakes his head.

"...snipers… on the roofs… and in… windows… no… chance..."

For the first time, though, he sees something new in Three's eyes and that something is anger.

"You know this place better than both of us put together so find a way," he hisses, "Otherwise we're breaking you out by force and hoping for the best. Do you know a place where we can rest and where Thirteen can prepare the acid to melt the bars?"

Something clicks in Magpie's head. He tells them an address and instructions how to get there, followed by:

"-alarm in the… cellar… and tell... Crimson that Tasheed… was a Black Ops… agent… all along… and that their hideout… isn't… safe-" he starts coughing until the exhaustion has him lose control of himself and slump in the cage, "...she… might… help..."

Three's expression of determined anger turns into an encouraging smile which even as a griffon suits him much more.

"We'll be back for you. Don't give up!" he bounces one of the balls against the cage one last time for show and then puts it into his saddlebag.

Looks fun.

They calmly trot out of the large, open plaza and as soon as they're out of sight they break into a gallop.


Thirteen looks around as she hears faint electronic buzzing which started as soon as they entered the cellar at the address Magpie sent them to. It wasn't far, thankfully, because neither she nor Three have any idea how much time they have left. In absence of anything else to do, Thirteen sits down on one of the two chairs by the table in the otherwise empty cellar while Three takes the other.

Thirteen's ears twitch, hearing quiet pawsteps from upstairs. She nudges Three who seems to be preoccupied by his new ball and he just nods back. A moment later, two griffons rush inside, each aiming a pistol their way immediately.

"Who are you?" asks one.

Three and Thirteen exchange glances.

"Magpie sent us here," says Three.

"Wrong answer," says a female griffon arriving behind them who fits Magpie's description of 'Crimson'.

"Miss Crimson, Magpie said that Tasheed, the guy who was with him, was a Black Ops agent. He brought Magpie here and he knew about you all along. You're not safe here."

"What happened to Warren? Did he tell you that?" asks Crimson.

"He said that the guards executed everyone who was with him," Three looks down for a moment, "I'm sorry."

Crimson stumbles and grits her beak. A griffon next to her puts his foreleg on her shoulder and she swipes it away with an angry growl:

"I warned him..."

"We're here to ask you for help," says Three.

"Help? HELP?!" Crimson barks, tears in her eyes, "That idiot got my son killed-!"

"It was a trap aimed at him!" Three pleads.

"IT WAS STUPID!"

"Agreed," Thirteen interjects quietly and takes her hood and scarf off. All armed griffons aim at her, "But will you let that slide? Imperial Black Ops killing your son and the last Redtalon? A Black Ops agent almost raped me. I hunted him down afterwards and… and killed him. I learned from him he's been tracking Magpie for weeks. I don't like Magpie. I don't think anyone but my sister likes Magpie but everyone who knows him says the same thing - if he's on your side in a tough spot, he will fight for you until death. I don't know how big you griffons here are on the whole Redtalon thing but the Black Ops believe it to be serious and, judging from what happened, your son did too."

If looks could kill, Thirteen's new body would be undergoing a proper stress test right now, because Crimson is glaring daggers, hollow-point bullets, katanas, claymores, and possibly tactical spell strikes at her.

"Look," Three intervenes before Crimson commits suicide by attacking a changeling with somewhat shaky self-control, "Magpie told us to warn you, that's all. The two of us are going to try to rescue him no matter what."

"What makes you think you can get him from that cage before the guards stop you?" sneers Crimson.

Three flashes green and the pile of suddenly too big clothes collapses on itself. A moment later, changeling Three's head peeks out.

"Two changelings," he beams, "We already managed to get to him and hypnotize the guards around him. He warned us that they were snipers on the roofs and in the windows of buildings around the Bloody plaza, though."

"I know griffons who live in those houses, they could let us in-" says one of the griffons.

"And what?!" hisses Crimson, "Take all the snipers out before a single one notices and calls for help? There's nine of us!"

"I mean, yeah," the griffon stares back with defiance, "If we could do something that draws their attention away."

"Such as?"

Three transforms again. Unfortunately, it's not as simple inside the pile of clothes and he ends up with his head sticking out of a sleeve and choking. One quick transformation later, he jumps onto the table with the bouncy ball in his mouth and drops it.

"How about a bunch of griffons who want to throw something at Magpie and make some noise?" he tilts his head with a smile, "That might do it."

"We could call in a crowd if we tell them they can show they're loyal to the Irongrips. Only a few of us have to know what's really going on. It's going to take a few days, though."

Three sighs.

"I don't think we have-"

"You do," says Crimson, staring directly at Three, "Emperor Cassius is in the south, resolving some crisis between the states again. There are only several ways he can come back to the heartland with Drachenberg and corrupted areas in the way. If the general reports are correct and he really wants to come in person it could be weeks or even months depending on other priorities."

"Magpie will freeze to death if he hangs there for weeks," Three wibbles his lips at Crimson.

"They won't let him. Silas will want to kiss Cassius' ass in person," Crimson scowls.

"He won't survive that long," Thirteen stands up sharply, earning pistols aimed her way again, "He'd need specialized medical attention even if we got him out right now. Come on, I know you can't trust us but first, we need to find a different place to have a chat. The rest is up to you. Do you want to avenge your son?"

"Low blow," Crimson narrows her eyes.

"My apologies," Thirteen locks eyes with her.

After a moment, Crimson looks away.

"The world is fucked, my son is dead, and the rest of you idiots want to throw yourselves at the Irongrips and recruit your friends as cover. You know that Legion soldiers will support authority even if they are our boys," she sighs, "Still, breaking a few Irongrip beaks on the way to Tartarus sounds hella good."

"Hypnosis?" is all Three asks through his link.

"Just a little nudge," replies Thirteen, "I realized she wouldn't do the right thing for the noble reason so I'll settle for the right thing and the reason being revenge. She WANTED this but was afraid of the retribution against everyone in case she failed. Now she and everyone who joins are all-in. Three, if we fail and they get shot or anything… that's on us."

"Yeah. Boss can't be here so we have to take responsibility for once."


Having been fed enough to be only barely avoiding starvation, Magpie doesn't bother opening his eyes despite hearing multiple pawsteps and the occasional fragment of a conversation for some time now.

That is, until a ball bounces off of his cage with enough strength to shake him fully awake as the cage starts swinging and spinning violently and the bean bag ball remains lodged halfway through the bars through which it by no means should be able to pass through.

"Unhug you, Redtalon scum!" screams a pony whom Magpie identifies as Thirteen as soon as the cage returns to simply hanging from the pillar on the dais.

"Yeah, screw you!" a random griffon takes one of the many balls in the basket and throws it as well, albeit without too much force.

Something rings inside Magpie's head but in his exhausted state he can't figure out what.

Well, one thing is clear even to him - the Bloody plaza in front of him is packed. The wide open square could easily host twenty thousand griffons and he's somewhere around its center so… five to ten thousand griffons came today to throw stuff at him.

Well, it might be less boring. Though I'm not exactly getting the connection between the crowd and the changelings being here.

Another ball from a different griffon hits the bars. Once again, no particular amount of strength is in the throw.

Another, another, another, until it finally clicks in Magpie's head.

A griffon throws the ball which Magpie ignores, his eyes locked on the griffon's foreleg.

It's blood red, barely visible in the lights of the street lamps.

All of their forelegs are. Every. Single. One.

Just like his.

A panicked scream cuts through the air, making Magpie look in its direction just to see a silhouette of a griffon drop like a rock from the roof of a building in the distance and land on the pavement with a definitely fatal crunch.

"Alright, that's our cue!" griffon Three calls out, and the entire crowd moves as one.

The balls land on the poor six guards around the dais who back off and raise their pistols. One smarter guard jumps into the air and before he can flap his wings a second time a group of civilians tackle him and drag him down to the others currently being kicked and stomped on by the crowd.

It can't last long. The guards will recover soon and start shooting. There's some fifty-or-so hanging around the plaza at all times. Plus the snipers. If the situation gets out of control, they'll just shoot me.

And I can't do a damn thing about it…

Thirteen spits some goo at the chain holding the cage up. It's not the same reinforced steel as the cage itself, so it drops quickly and she kicks it off of the stage between the milling griffons.

"...ow..." Magpie, inside the cage, grunts.

"Line of sight down!" calls out Thirteen, jumping down towards him, "Three, I need you to cover me, this is delicate as hole! This acid can melt the bars so you don't want to see what it does to griffons."

And here it comes, the first gunshots. The chaos everywhere around turns into screaming as the first presumed bodies hit the ground. However, where Magpie expected the crowd's panicked escape, eagle screeches of pure rage pierce the air and the crowd charges towards the regrouping GIL soldiers by the sides of the plaza over bodies of those gunned down by the first bursts of fire.

"Away, away!" Three shoves a griffon who's passing by and takes a stand in front of Thirteen and the cage, "Shoo! Delicate work in progress here!"

"...what's… going… on…?" wheezes Magpie.

Three, shielding him with his body, smiles.

"You know how you said that being a Redtalon didn't mean anything? Well, it looks like that to a lot of griffons around here it does!"

Magpie winces as another round of gunfire is followed by more pained screaming and slumps down.

"...I didn't… want anyone… to die like… this… for me..."

"Yup!" Three nods bitterly, "But that wasn't your call now, was it?"

Magpie shields his eyes from the sizzling fumes coming out of the bars currently being chewed through by Thirteen.

Sirens start blaring everywhere around the city and dots of light sparkle the sky above the Bloodstone fortress in the distance as GIL reinforcements on rocket thrusters take to the air.

Time is running out.

It's taking a minute until enough bars are gone to let the griffon out, give or take, but to Magpie drifting in and out of consciousness it may as well be forever.

"Three, I need you to carry him!" Thirteen pulls Magpie out and winces as his coat and wings lightly graze the still acidic stumps of the bars and leave behind blackened feathers and sizzling scars. The griffon doesn't react, though, "Oops!"

All resistance to the crowd of rebels seems gone but as soon as she slings Magpie over Three's back, a single gunshot rings through the air, coming from the direction of the fortress itself.

Time slows down. Thirteen's instinct reacts only to the sound.

The rebels were supposed to scout out the houses around the plaza and question their owners about GIL posts and were shockingly successful in doing so. The one thing they couldn't prevent no matter what, though, would be a trained sniper on the roof of the Bloodstone fortress itself. Now, with Magpie not on the ground anymore and the crowd dispersing before the GIL reinforcements arrive, the sniper has a distant but clear shot.

Magpie hears it, Three hears it, Thirteen hears it.

The griffon only sighs.

The bullet hits.

Magpie's gasps and his eyes bulge in the next instant as he realizes there's no fresh hole in his head. He looks back in the direction of the fortress and his eyes stop on Thirteen who turns her head, the long bullet still visible caught between her teeth in the corner of her mouth.

She spits it out and slaps Three's butt.

"RUN, MINIBOSS! RUN LIKE THE ANTI-HUG POLICE IS AFTER YOU!"

"Eeep, not the ultimate baddies!" Three darts forward.