Today was the day. Dootha was waiting for them, as confirmed by surveillance Luna had done herself. After the rampages, Dootha seemed content to wait. He was sitting in the ruins of Abyssinia, just biding time.
Spike was currently in flight, headed for the forsaken nation.
Sombra was residing within his shadow below, in an effort to preserve every ounce of strength he had.
Can you feel it? I know we're still a continent away, but I can sense him. I can smell his foul stench. Sombra declared anxiously.
"I've got nothing. But you're better at that sort of thing. Compared to the two of us together, how do we measure up?" Spike asked over the rushing wind.
...
"That bad?" Spike asked after the pause.
It's not that... I just don't know if I can measure divine power by the standard metric I employ for magic or spirit power. From what I can measure, we should stand a fair chance. Especially now that we have spent a great deal of time and effort in the blank zone. Dootha's aura of dread and fear should prove far less effective.
"Mm." Spike replied ponderously.
The rest of the long flight was mostly silent. Eerily even. It seemed anything with a single shred of instinct had fled the hemisphere via any means available to them. Upon landing in the area, there was no doubt they had arrived at their destination. Even Spike could feel the wrongness the area had been dealt on a spiritual level.
Everything was twisted and black. Either ashy glass, or soot. Maybe some gristle. What must have been a whole nation was just gone. The whole of it had been erased, and the ground where it had once been was forever painted a weathered ashy black. The only thing for miles around was what was assumed to be the remnants of Nessuss' castle.
It was a massive structure that was warped and twisted, as if it had been heated and molded into shape on purpose. It had been made to be like a morbid impersonation of a coliseum, having been stretched outward. The melted layers vaguely resembled rose petals, but they were drooped and grey. Metal and stone had been fused into a waxy sickly grey, giving the structure an almost organic look.
"It's like walking around in a dead world. Even more than the blank zone." Spike observed as they neared the melted citadel.
"Yes... Things are just intact enough to make you realize the desolation." Sombra agreed.
About a mile from their destination, there was a stirring in the ruin.
Something in the hearts of Spike and Sombra wanted to believe that there were still survivors clinging to the shadows. A hopeful glimmer of good that would emerge from the abyss of evil. An innocent spared.
But it was not to be.
What emerged from the ruins were not people. Not anymore. They were soulless husks, blackened and unrecognizable. Bits of char and ember fell from them as they moved. They were horrifying, but nothing compared to what Spike and Sombra had already seen.
The only thing these moving corpses elicited from the pair was disappointment, pity, and sadness.
The shadows cast by the ruins moved with a thought. Sombra did the only thing he could rationally do and cut them down in an instant. It was done without tears being shed or adding weight to his already sizeable burdens. It was mercy, plain and simple.
Sombra took in all the shadows of the lost land as they carried onward.
Spike merely kept his guard up, letting his senses do their work.
Just as soon as they reached their obvious destination the Earth shook. The power pervading their senses surged, and the walls of the citadel cracked open. They were forced to flee backwards as Dootha made his grand entrance.
And so it begins~! Dootha cackled madly.
Like a dark comet, Dootha flew into the air.
The cinder-like pallor of his flesh began cracking and falling off. His body seemed to have stabilized from the form he had been in upon resurrection. In a way akin to a butterfly freeing itself from it's cocoon, Dootha shed the layer of dead flesh and revealed his form to the world for the first time in countless ages.
He was strange for a dragon. He possessed no spines, and his scales were smooth and muted in color. It was easy to see why Spike's ancestral patriarch had named his son 'clever snake' in the tongue of the gods. He reminded Spike of a snake or serpent with wings more than a dragon.
Dootha landed with a thud, still several times Spike's size despite his shedding.
It was hard to imagine a dragon his size being the runt of the family. He was easily as large as Ohshmend, and obviously terrifying. Spike would have taken a moment to wonder just how long it would take himself to surpass Dootha in size, but his instincts were already in charge of his brain.
There was no time off-hand thoughts or remarks.
Nephew... Spike, yes? So good to see you. Dootha taunted.
Dootha's eyes burned with such fierceness that eclipsed all other evils, yet his voice was as smooth as silk. It was a disturbing contrast, but Spike did not falter. Sombra let his eyes ignite with his own spiritual power as a show of force, but his gaze showed no fear. Dootha's mad smile turned into a scowl as he saw the determination and vigor his current victims displayed.
Sombra too... Both of you have grown a great deal in such a short time. You've surprised me. I suppose you think you can best me, now that you can do a few measly tricks? Dootha glowered down at the couple.
Spike almost pitied Dootha just then, seeing flashes of the inferiority complex that had lead Dootha down this path. But there was no way Spike could feel anything more than contempt for his many-times-removed uncle. Dootha had been so twisted and corrupted that there was no blood between them.
Taking a leap, Spike latched onto Dootha's face.
A rather inglorious start to a battle, but Spike wasn't about to pull any punches. He was going for the kill as early as possible. Dootha's lack of arms made it easier to stay on, but it was a challenge. Dootha's flesh was surprisingly easy to pierce for a dragon, but each injury gushed miasma and soon closed.
Spike attempted to go for Dootha's eyes, but found his scales weren't up to the task of taking boiling miasma fresh out the tap.
His left hand's scales faded and cracked, but the damage didn't seep through to the skin below. Spike was able to hold on with one hand briefly, shooting a gout of emerald flame into Dootha's left eye before he let go. He didn't expect it to work, but he felt it necessary.
Spike tucked and rolled, his wings out at his sides. It was obviously a practiced motion. Spike had prepared himself to fight a much larger foe, and had correctly assumed falling might be on the agenda.
He stopped himself with his tail in front of Sombra, giving the Umbral stallion cover.
"We were right. Ordinary attacks are a bad idea. You get time to do your thing?" Spike asked, watching Dootha regenerate his eye.
"Just finished. The me's are in position. You are the epitome of distracting, Dear." Sombra replied.
Sombra cut loose and dove at Dootha from over Spike's body. He was a gigantic nebulous cloud of darkness by the time he came into sight, many times larger than even Dootha. He swallowed Dootha whole, then clung tightly to his form by shrinking. Dootha was an entirely black silhouette. Yet Sombra seemed to have a grander design in place.
Sombra freed Dootha's head and chest, then hardened his form. His head was forced straight up, preventing him from covering Sombra in flames. Dootha attempted to thrash about, but Sombra seemed able to hold him. Once Spike was sure he was immobile, he cut loose.
Just as soon as Sombra had put his plan into action, Spike had grabbed hold of his divine birthright, and he let his mana fuel it. But he cut it off where he wanted it. It had taken a great deal of trial and error, and more than a few failures. But Spike was in full control now.
Spike merged the divine power he had harvested with his magic, recomposing it into the elements he wanted. In this instance, it was all of them. All eight magics that Spike was built to use. Seven from his heritage, and one from his adopted mother. All of it held together by the divine energy he had nearly died to obtain.
Spike condensed it all into his throat, and a beam of ever-changing colored light struck out at Dootha and shot him in the chest. It struck home thanks to Dootha's inability to move, and the writhing wyrm screamed. The sound of it was like someone throwing a large predatory bird into a wood-chipper.
But it was music to Spike's ears.
As the assault ended, Spike was greeted by the sight of Dootha's insides, and the barren landscape behind him. Sombra relaxed his grip on Dootha's body, but kept the evil dragon's wings bound behind him. Yet Dootha squirmed and his wound began bleeding black and green ichor.
Boiling hot, it flowed down his back until it met with Sombra's bindings.
The ichor sizzled and hissed as it made contact, forcing Sombra to release Dootha.
Dootha wasted no time in taking his turn, beams of sickly green energy striking the as of yet unformed Sombra from his eyes. The attack struck home, and the mass of shade and smoke began burning from the center out. The mass of darkness writhed in agony, but fell to pieces before the burn could progress very far.
The unblighted segments flowed in many directions, reforming behind Dootha.
The tyrant wyrm began turning to face him, but Spike was back into the fray. With his limbs clad in rings of light he leaped up onto Dootha's exposed back and bit into the base of his neck. His fangs gleamed black and shined with purifying light. Spike was simultaneously purging the infectious miasma and draining away at the monster's god-like reserves of power. It was risky, but Spike could manage the intake so long as he could control the flow.
Sombra too began retaliating, slashing away at Dootha as Spike tried to refuel.
Dootha's wounds were still regenerating at high speeds, but nothing was infinite.
Even so, Dootha had had enough of their insolence. With a sickening snap, he realigned his entire neck to face Spike. With a headbutt, Spike was flung what had to be half a mile away thanks to Dootha's supernatural strength. Sombra saw this happen and ceased attacking.
Whisking himself away through the yet unclosed opening in Dootha's abdomen, Sombra became a cloud of darkness and caught Spike before he impacted the ground. Dootha righted his neck with a sickening pop, but stopped as he took a step forward. He could tell something was off.
The ground was covered in lines of criss-crossing blackness, barely perceivable against the burned landscape. Sombra had been busy, and Dootha had been too busy with Spike to notice. The senseless physical attacks had been a distraction, but until now Dootha had yet to figure out what had been done.
Magic circles... Designed to trap me in this area. Very well made, and in such a short time. I am impressed. Had I had access to these sorts of abilities when I wore your skin I would have never lost to those meat creatures in the empire. Dootha complimented condescendingly.
Sombra's show wasn't yet over it seemed.
From the perimeter of the circle, six Sombras emerged from the blackness. The original was still with Spike, but it seemed his splitting technique had gotten better. A total of seven bodies being controlled by one mind. Even Dootha was genuinely impressed, though he neglected to comment further.
Each of the Sombras began to speak without a voice and filled the dead landscape with silent song.
The Sombras were charging the circle with energy, vibrant pink in color. It began to burn away at Dootha's body, but the damage seemed superficial. But it seemed worrying enough that Dootha began trying to strike out at the copy Sombras.
The attacks merely passed through the copies, their bodies reforming as soon as each attack ended.
"Holy shit. You're doing it. The burns you're making aren't healing." Spike remarked.
"Spike... now would be the time... to jump into action. I can't hold him much longer. This is immensely taxing." Sombra groaned, the exertion putting great strain on his mind.
"Oh. Right." Spike said sheepishly.
Spike charged Dootha, readying another all out assault on him. Thanks to Dootha's over-abundant power he had more than enough for another shot like the one he had used before. But this time he needed to make it count.
Spike cloaked himself in the energy, keeping it infused in his skin and claws. He would let none escape. The magic did it's thing, sharpening the natural weapon that was his body. With his gleaming scales, even his speed and physical strength were in overdrive.
Leaping through the last few tens of meters, Spike cut into Dootha with a flying strike.
Spike cleanly cut away Dootha's left wing, and the shoulder it was attached to.
Yet Spike didn't escape unscathed. Dootha's right talon sliced along his side as he went. Not deeply, thanks to the aura of magic and divine energy he was cloaked in. But it hurt, and Spike could feel miasma surging through his system. Spike realized he couldn't do anything about it once it was already in his body, but he wasn't about to panic.
Sombra had to let go of his hold on the other pieces of himself and cloaked Spike in the now mindless mass. He quickly darted over to join with the rest of himself, but was stopped by Dootha's tail. Sombra was struck with Dootha's corrupt energy flowing through it, locking him into physical form for as long as it took to purge.
Sombra was able to seal Spike's wound with his leftover mass, but was little more than an ordinary pony at present.
Dootha however was thankfully occupied mending his arm.
Sickening streams of black and green ichor were weaving into a familiar shape of a wing. The severed wing began to melt, searing into the earth with a black hiss of smoke. It looked as though Dootha would only need mere minutes to regenerate a new limb in full. Even at his tremendous size.
Spike was now girdled in darkness, holding his wound shut and purging the miasma all at once.
He could still feel the pain, but it was manageable. Sombra was precise and efficient, and Spike had no doubt he would be fine in his care. There was little to no time to dwell on his injury anyway, he needed to save Sombra.
Spike gathered up the power he had left, but thought better of using it again so quickly. Instead he ran and scooped up Sombra. They needed a plan of attack. They had been relatively successful as of now, but Dootha had barely been trying. It was obvious they still didn't understand the depths of Dootha's power.
They would need to talk on the run, but they were used to it.
"Okay. We know his regeneration is s good as yours, if not better. We also know he's twice as powerful as either of us, and full of super-poison. Any thoughts?" Spike asked as he kept his eyes on Dootha.
Sombra hacked up a ball of miasma, looking a bit sick at his stomach but otherwise alright.
"My spiritual energy seems able to inflict grievous harm upon him. Or at least harm not easily healed. Should we combine efforts, we might make more headway. I propose we take a page from my sister's playbook." Sombra insisted.
Spike narrowly dodged a gout of black fire that erupted from Dootha's mouth behind them.
It erased the earth it had touched, and Spike was certain it would have done the same had he let himself get hit. Dootha was nearly back to complete health, and it seemed he was done observing. He was on the warpath now that he had came to understand how dangerous Spike and Sombra actually were.
His eyes burned brightly, crackling bolts of black energy sheering off his body. Spheres of violet energy and corruption began orbiting Dootha, arcs of power striking the earth and tearing it asunder. Ash and cinder glowed to life, being sucked into his being.
The ruined landscape full of death and ash began mending Dootha's burns by incorporating it to account for lost mass. At the same time the sheer power the magic was giving off was altering the gravity in the area. Large chunks of earth were being torn away, and Spike was being pulled in closer to Dootha.
Spike couldn't run for long, the pull growing stronger.
Sombra bled into the remainder of himself that was serving to bandage Spike's side, forcing tendrils of darkness to jut outward and pierce the ground. Even with Spike's claws firmly rooted in the ground they could barely resist the pull. Dootha didn't seem capable of movement while the spell was active, but he was waiting patiently at the center of the now nexus-like devastation.
I would say we do it now, or get absorbed into Dootha. I doubt anyone can stop him were he to obtain our abilities too. Sombra somehow exclaimed without a mouth.
"Alright... Do it. I trust you. And no matter what happens, I love you." Spike affirmed.
I love you too. But for today, let me take the lead.
TO BE CONCLUDED