“It’s called a lamp,” said Twilight. “It makes light.”
Chrysalis snickered, wings fluttering as she looked over the lamp. “Camera,” she ordered, urging the camera forward. “Watch closely. She says this makes light.”
The camera laughed too. As if you could make light without the proper organs bred in. This ‘lamp’ of Twilight’s hardly seemed to have the right sacs for bioluminescence. She felt around under the membrane at the top of the pole and found a loose tendon or somesuch, which she pulled because she could.
And the lamp made light.
“It really does!” said Chrysalis, looking to Twilight. She looked back at the lamp, eyes widening in amazement. “And it’s not blue?”
“I... don’t see why it would be?”
Chrysalis gasped. “We need these.” She pushed the camera’s face into the lamp. “Study it. We’ll breed more for the hive.”
“That’s not really how it works,” said Twilight, pushing the workers back again. Everyone was crowding a view of the light. “It’s a machine. You can’t breed one. You have to build it.”
“Ah...” said Chrysalis, staring wistfully at the lamp and its glorious light. “I suppose the only alternative, then, is to steal them from you.”---