//------------------------------//
// Chapter 45: The Greatest Necromancer 
// Story: The Life of Penumbra Heartbreak 
// by Unwhole Hole 
//------------------------------//

Necrophilo of Canterlot whistled to himself as he worked, preparing the various machines and solutions he would need. Things were going well, and if all were going according to plan…
Behind him, he heard the familiar sound of inert flesh being roughly placed on a metal table. The kind with a drain in it. 
“Be careful!” he admonished, turning sharply and pulling several stainless-steel carts along with his green magic. “We don’t want to bruise her, now, do we?”
Fractal Flare looked up. Her eyes were empty and cold, the eyes that every pony who ever came to any modicum of power always seemed to have. Her expression was impassive. Necrophilo smiled. She was sturdier than he had suspected. 
“The poison. It worked.”
“Of course it worked. I made it.” Necrophilo turned his attention to the body of the princess. With his magic, she swiftly stripped her of her armor, leaving her naked on the cold steel table. She was surprisingly small without it, and incredibly thin. 
“She’s halfway to being a remnant already.” Necrophilo lifted one of her limp wings. “I am still deciding if she will keep these. Feathers preserve so very poorly.”
“What are you going to do with her?” asked Facet.
“I already told you that, Student 798.”
Facet gasped. “What...what did you just say?”
“That was our deal. You prepare the princess, and you will have proven yourself. I understand that you two were friends, no?”
“I have no friends. I do not have that luxury.”
“And that is a lie. But it is nothing to be ashamed of! It is the very nature of sorcery, especially in our most sacred of fields. You can only advance by betraying those foolish enough to love you. By making friends and allies...and eliminating them for your own gain.”
“I understand, master.”
“Then you will go far. Perhaps you will succeed where Riser or Lemonleaf failed. Or you will not, and you will be on this table one day, just like your friend here.”
“That still does not answer my question. What are you going to do to her? Specifically?”
“Well, first I need to make some changes. We have to work quickly.” He turned around and found the end of a large tube. When he turned back, he saw his wife peering through the distance, her eyes locked on the body of her daughter. Necrophilo smiled, because soon they would both be added to his collection. 
“First, we need to preserve her. Perfusion, if you must know. Although there’s more to it than that. MUCH more...” He slid a rack of gleaming instruments to Facet. 
“What are these?”
“The tools of your trade. We are going to figure out exactly how she is an alicorn, and what an alicorn is. So I can make more. As my student, you will lead the process.”
Facet picked up one of the tools. She was shaking. 
“From there,” said Necrophilo, drifting beside the much smaller crystal pony, “we reassemble her. Because she still has her use.”
“What kind of use?”
“Her magic is intrinsically toxic to Sombra. He is already badly weakened, but not beautiful quite yet. Once she’s back on her feet, she’ll finish the job. Then I can have him too. As well as his kingdom.” He frowned. “And then we will proceed to the next phase.”
“Meaning?”
“Twilight Luciferian. Sombra seems to think that what is out of sight and out of mind no longer exists. But in this case? Not only my Necropolis but all of Equestria rests in the balance. One I rule the kingdom, I will put the full force of the Crystal Empire into tracking him down and eliminating him, and the disease he’s carrying.”
“Will you add him to your collection too?”
“No. He is already too badly rotted. But you are getting ahead of yourself. First, we prepare my bride. Then I rule. Only then will we be able to track down our one true enemy.”
“I believe,” said Luciferian, “that you may have gotten that out of order.” 
Necrophilo turned swiftly, raising a complicated shield spell. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his newest student reach for something beneath her uniform. This disturbed him more than it should have, because it meant that he had badly underestimated her. 
Luciferian passed out of the darkness, his motion causing much of Necrophilo’s sensitive equipment to overload and fail, often in plumes of strangely-colored sparks. Not once did Necrophilo take his eyes off Luciferian, though. The pony who had once been nearly regal was now a shadow of himself: gaunt, shaking, and diseased- -but his eyes were alive. Tremendously alive, as if his body was being burned to fuel something deep and terrible within him. Worst of all, though, was the smile. Necrophilo had never seen Luciferian’s teeth up close, and he knew to his gravest dismay that they had already been sharp before he had been infected. He was not just a pureblood: he was a follower of the White Queen. 
“How are you here, Twilight?” he demanded, not taking a single step back. Doing so, he knew, was sure destruction. Though Luciferian looked weak, Necrophilo knew enough arcana to know that the parasite within him was providing him with an unknowable amount of magic- -or, rather, Luciferian was acting as a parasite in this case. Worse, this was a mage who had fought Sombra and very nearly won. 
Luciferian giggled. “You don’t know,” he said, slowly. He sighed. “I see. You’ve gotten slow. I think you would have realized by now. I never left, of course.” 
“That’s impossible. You’re insane!”
“And you’ve been bound to linear thinking. To think, you, the most powerful necromancer in all of Equestria, would fall prey to the dogma that cuts off the talent of children barely able to speak. I almost feel ashamed.” 
“Leave this place,” demanded Facet. “You are NOT welcome here- -”
A bolt of magic passed so close to her head that it burnt a small divot in one of her ears. It bored several meters through the solid stone behind her. “Silence, slave,” said Luciferian, smiling but clearly no longer happy. “I did not order you to speak, did I?” 
Luciferian’s eyes turned to the metal table in the center of the room. He frowned, though only mildly. “Now this, this concerns me. Because that princess is my property. I own her, body, mind, and soul...well, if alicorns had souls. And I HATE when ponies mistreat my things. You should ask my daughter!” He laughed, and looked straight into Facet’s eyes. “You look like her, actually. Sooooo much like her...oh the things I could do to you...” 
“Twilight! Your fight is with me!” Necrophilo seized his opportunity, casting a spell in Luciferian’s direction. Spare cells and waste slag were pulled together from the floor, rising as deadly undead tentacles, their ends tipped with hardened blades. Luciferian looked at them and simply smiled. Without even lighting his horn, the tentacles disintegrated.
“Why would I fight YOU? It would be pointless. Self-defeating, even.”
“Because you could never stand that I was better than you! I am your ONE worthy rival!”
Necrophilo summoned a blade spell, one powerful and accurate enough to slice through the space between individual cells in fixed tissue. He then doubled it- -and tripled it. Then he unleashed all three blades at Luciferian in a pattern that would be impossible to block.
Luciferian did not even bother. The spells collapsed before they could reach him. It was just as before- -and Necrophilo’s unease grew. He knew the spells were formed perfectly- -but felt himself deactivating them just before they reached their target.
“What have you done to me?!” he cried, firing a bolt of energy at Luciferian. A simple, primitive attack, the kind a child might deploy in first-year magic school. Once again, it failed before striking Luciferian. Luciferian just stared, on the verge of laughter. One of his eyes had ceased to be able to blink.   
“You honestly don’t know? I see...you’ve grown dangerously unstable. You’re beginning to develop independent consciousness. Or trying. Because that’s the trouble about consciousness. It isn’t real. It can be created. Cheaply, shoddily, even, but it always THINKS it’s real.”
“Listen to me, Twilight. You’ve summoned a demon you can’t hope to ever control. It’s driven you insane. You need to let me help you- -help Equestria! If it gets out, even for a moment- -”
“A demon? A DEMON?” Luciferian burst out into laughter, although Facet felt herself shiver, because she knew the sound of weeping all-too-well. “It’s not a demon, you fool...it’s THE demon. The source. The end, the terminus, the One Who Never Fell. You have no idea the pain...or maybe you do. Because you feel it too, don’t you?”
“Twilight, you’re mind is bending- -”
“You can see her, can’t you? Sometimes, when you look over your shoulder, or through an open door, she passes...and she is more beautiful than anything you’ve ever seen.”
“I am the Most Beautiful Pony,” said the demon, her red eyes staring into Necrophilo’s very core as she stood beside her soon-to-be body. Necrophilo stared aghast at the horror before him, though across the room, Facet watched, confused; for although she smelled a hideous scent of rotting carnations, she could not see what his eyes had so glaringly fixed upon. 
“Regardless,” said Luciferian, scratching at his covered limb, “I have a cure.”
“Do you now?” said the yellow mare. “I’d sure love to see it. That would be worth the trip. Because I SAW you’re last attempt. It made me tingle.” 
“More to the point,” continued Luciferian, ignoring the demon, “I’m concerned for you, Necrophilo. Taking on racial inferiors as students?” He turned slowly toward Facet and gave her a smile that chilled her deeply. “I wonder...would she still follow you if she knew what you were?”
“You wouldn’t dare- -”
Necrophilo summoned a shield spell, but it collapsed in an instant as Luciferian grabbed his robes and tore them away. 
Facet- -a pony hardened by a decade and a half of a hard, terrible life- -screamed in horror at the thing beneath Necrophilo’s robes. For it was not a pony, at least, not ONE pony: rather, it was a construct, like the things he so lovingly prepared in his laboratories, and like the pale, preserved unicorn who watched him at a distance now. It was made from several ponies, recombined in a new and grotesque form. 	
“How dare you!” screamed Necrophilo, rising beyond the limits that his robes would allow until his body towered over Luciferian, all seven of his eyes focused on the white pony before him. He stepped forward on several hooves, his numerous claws clenching into fists. “For this you will pay- -”
“Did you ever even look? At that body, I mean. Closely. Or were you ashamed of it? Or afraid?”
“I fear nothing. I created this body- -”
“Really? Do you remember when? How? What it felt like to transfer to it?” Luciferian chuckled humorlessly and looked up at his so-called “rival”. “Because you are by no means a lich. You don’t have the stomach for it. Nor do you have the ambition.”
“I’ll show you ambition, Twilight.”
Necrophilo charged his horn, and Luciferian raised his unarmored hoof. Necrophilo’s magic flickered and went out. 
“Tell me,” said Luciferian, stepping forward. “What is it you DO remember?”
“I was a pupil of Starswirl the Bearded- -”
“Beyond that. Do you remember your parents? Your first love? The endless studying in dark chambers, the smell of those glorious old books? Do you even remember having a real body?”
“I...of course I…why can’t I...”
“Did you ever question why no one in Canterlot remembers your name? Why no one there, not even the oldest, most wizened wizards know you? Why you can’t even remember what the city actually looks like?”
Necrophilo took a step back. “You’re doing something- -with your magic- -STOP! Please! I beg you, just STOP!”
A thin smile crossed Luciferian’s face. Facet shivered, because it was the first truly sincere one she had ever seen the dark sorcerer produce. 
“There never was a ‘Necrophilo of Canterlot’. You were a pony, yes. At some point. I don’t know what your name was. It doesn’t matter. But all your skill, your power, your achievements? Everything you value and hold dear? None of that was you. It was ME.”
“YOU LIKE!”
Necrophilo struck out with his magic yet again. His horn barely sparkled. 
“I created you. Because I am the greatest necromancer ever to live. But it’s a pointless study. Entirely impractical, in combat or otherwise. I hardly used it. So I separated it. Created you from it. To be my eyes should Sombra reject me. As he did.” 
“You lie! You LIE! YOU LIE YOU LIE YOU LIE!” By this time, tears were streaming down Necrophilo’s face. 
“But your independence concerns me. You are a construct, nothing more. An echo of me. You were never alive, never sentient. Do not try to ape me, and do not touch my wife.” Luciferian raised his hoof and Necrophilo screamed, desperately trying to claw his way to an escape. “And it is time you returned to me.”
“PLEASE! NO! NO DON’T- -”
His body suddenly collapsed to dust. Only his skull remained, which immediately was pulled to Luciferian’s grasp, as if by magic. It was the skull of a unicorn, but decorated in lines of finest gold and silver and studded with jewels assembled into delicate runes. Even Facet, a novice, could identify that it was wholly artificial. 
In the center of the skull’s forehead, just below the horn, sat a luminescent green gemstone. Luciferian pried it out, and the skull in turn collapsed to ash and dust. He looked around the room until his eyes settled on the silent white construct, Necrophilo’s crowning achievement. 
“You seem remarkably well preserved,” he said, holding up the gem in his magic. “How would you like to be the new Necrophilo of Canterlot?”
The remains of Hope blinked. She looked slowly at Penumbra, still lying inert, and then back at Luciferian. “Would I be able to...help? Help her. Help Sombra?” 
“To an extent, I suppose. This is an offer of power. No magic, mortal or immortal, can make you whole again. This will be as close as you can come.” 
The white mare looked back at her daughter, and nodded. “Then give me this power. So I can protect the ones I love.”
Luciferian laughed humorlessly at this, but did as she asked. He accelerated the crystal with his magic, slamming it hard into her forehead and implanting it in her own skull. 
The mare was knocked back, lifting her face to the ceiling. She shook slightly. “Loading...”
“It will take a moment to synchronize.”
The mare shook, and then lowered her head. Facet nearly screamed again, because what had before been one step above an inter t taxidermy example of a pony now stared with yellowed but energetic- -if not quite alive- -eyes. “That’s a strange sensation.”
“You’ll get used to it. Welcome, Necrophilo of Canterlot.”
“No. Please call me Nekro. ‘Necrophilo’ makes me sound like a pervert.”
Luciferian shrugged. “Fine. You get one other luxury, too. You already know what you are. And you know you serve ME. Your predecessor didn’t, and I think it leads to...well...” He looked at the pile of dust. His demon was rolling in it, sending up eddies of black powder. 
“I am well aware of my limitations. I always have been.”
Luciferian seemed to accept this- -and slowly turned to Facet. “Now to deal with you.”
“You’ll never take me! NEVER!”
She drew several crystals from beneath her uniform, firing the spells carved into each of them. Luciferian was surprised, and actually had to summon a shield spell. Nekro moved, working in perfect unison with her master, assuming and supporting his shield spell as he moved, sliding beneath the steel table and rising up under Facet’s face.
In an instant, her crystals had been sliced in half by Luciferian’s magic. He found his assessment of her had been overrated; instead of compensating for their destruction, the spells collapsed along with the crystals that contained them. He had no idea what Necrophilo had seen in this one; she was a simple racial degenerate, just like the others.
He grasped her by the throat with her magic, lifting her off the floor. 
“Give a pony a false promise of glory, and she suddenly thinks herself the hero? You know he was lying to you, don’t you? You’ll never be a mage. Not even slightly. All you are good for is mining crystal.”
“I won’t go back to the mines!” she gasped. “Never! NEVER!” 	
“The mines?” Luciferian laughed. “Oh no. The mines are too good for you. You see, I know how it works down there. That the only reason you wake up each day is the hope- -that slim, slim hope- -that someday, you might see the sun just one more time. And there are other ponies around you. Friends. Family. Not once down there are you EVER alone.” Luciferian’s eyes drifted to Penumbra. “And what fate do you think you deserve, slave? I know everything Necrophilo knew.”
“As do I,” said Nekro. “That you were her friend. That she loved you, and trusted you, and you betrayed her to her face.”
“I did what I had to! To escape! You wouldn't- -”
“Wouldn’t I?” said Nekro, looking up with pale yellow eyes at the crystal pony suspended before her. “She would have lifted you beyond this. Above this all. And taken your people with her. And you sacrificed their one hope...all for your own gain.”
Tears were running down Facet’s face. “ I- -I did- -I did what I- -I didn’t want to, I didn’t, but I- -”
“That is all irrelevant,” sighed Luciferian. “Nor do I care. If it was just that, I would not even waste time, as I have precious little left before She levels your world with my body. No. What bothers me is that you touched MY PROPERTY. You thought you could steal my prophecy from me.”
Facet’s eyes widened. “I- -I didn’t know about any prophecy- -”
“But I could even have forgiven that.” He looked her in the eyes. “What I truly, absolutely cannot tolerate? That you stood against your betters. I am superior to you in every possible way. You are a slave, and always will be. And you forgot this. For this crime, you will be punished.”
He smiled. Once again, it was truly sincere.  
Something dripped from his horn. It was magic, but not made of light. Instead, it was a spell cast in of pure darkness. Facet cried out and instinctively tried to pull away. There was nowhere to flee, though, and Luciferian held her fast. His spell began to form hideous lettering.
Then he pressed it into her. Facet screamed as the runes wrapped around her neck, forcing themselves against her skin into a collar of black lettering. It did not burn, but there was pain. A kind of pain not felt in the flesh, but in the soul itself. 
In an instant she was on the floor, grabbing at the collar as if it were stopping her from breathing. Yet there was nothing to grab: rather, it was simply a series of black letters tattooed into her skin.
“Wh- -why?!”
“I already told you. Try to listen.” Luciferian bent down. “This spell is very special. You should feel honored. I don’t know when it will manifest, or even how. But it always does. In exchange, it can never be removed. Not by any force, magical or otherwise. You will never escape what punishment it brings you. And when it comes? You’ll beg me to put you back in the mines.” With that, he kicked her hard in the ribs. 
“Was that really necessary?” asked Nekro.
“No, of course not. But it sure was satisfying. Or were you intending on keeping her as a student?”
“I have no need for students. This art is...unpleasant. Like you said. It has no use.”
“How agreeable.”
“More like boring,” said the demon. “And trust me, I KNOW boring. As in, you bore me. Or could, if you wanted to.” 
“Regardless.” Luciferian turned to the inert princess. “We have matters of far more substance to  attend to.”
Facet stood and threw herself over the princess. “Don’t you dare touch her!”
Luciferian grabbed her head in his magic and shoved her back. “Why? I own her. Even then, I’m trying to help. To undo what you did to her.”
“It can’t be undone,” babbled Facet. “The poison...the poison was perfect...and I...oh Epona...” She put her head in her hooves. “What have I done?”
“It is true,” agreed Nekro. “It was a powerful poison indeed.” She looked at Penumbra, and her eyes grew distant. “I can fix this. I know how to bring her back. The machines...”
“No,” said Luciferian. “Even if that was necessary, it wouldn’t be possible.” 
“In case you have not noticed, I’m a lich. I am an expert in this.”
“You are a construct with a tiny fragment of my soul. A horcrux at best. And where she any other pony, you’d be correct. And I’d let you try, because she’d be worthless to me. But alicorns are different.”
Nekro looked up. “Different? How?”
Luciferian’s brow furrowed. “Not much is known about their biology, but essentially, alicorns are true, pure immortals. Their lives do not end as ours do. They have no souls to be cast into the Pit, and they can only truly demise when their magic is truly exhausted. And hers is still intact.”
“She has no pulse. No breathing. No brain function.”
“Neither do I,” said the demon, shrugging. “And I’m still here.”
“She’s right. Because even if their mind burns, their bodies never do. The cells remain intact, potentially for millions of years.”
“She is incorruptible, then.”
“Everything is corruptible,” said the demon. “Just give it time.” 
“Her body will never decay,” continued Luciferian. “Beautiful across all of eternity. Waiting to be awoken.”
“How?” demanded Nekro. “How do I bring her back?”
“You could always try the ‘Sleeping Beauty’ trick,” said the demon, prodding Penumbra’s body with her hoof. “Except in the original story, the prince was a king. And it wasn’t a kiss. But I’m sure Twily is willing to give it the old college try, isn’t he?”  
“Don’t talk about her like that,” snapped Nekro. “And get your hooves off her- -”
The demon smiled, and Nekro fell silent. “Isn’t your daughter lucky? One of just three. For now, until Thebe gets here. I don’t get her soul. No eternal torment. Not like you. I have your soul. I wonder if you can feel it as I digest it within eternity?”
“I have no need for a soul.” Nekro focused on Hope’s daughter. “I accepted this hideous power to help her. Yet...I cannot. I never could. This distresses me. Greatly.” She looked up at Luciferian. “You have a daughter. You must understand.”
“No. And I never will. My daughter is a failure...” A glimmer of recognition crossed Luciferian’s face as an idea occurred to him. “But she may prove of use yet...”
Luciferian reached beneath his cloak and to a series of leather rings. All were empty, save for one, which held a corked tube. Luciferian carefully drew it out. Even within the dull light of the late Necrophilo’s lab, every pony present could see the substance glimmering silver within the tube.
Facet gasped and backed away. “That isn’t- -it can’t be- -”
“My daughter’s only use,” said Luciferian. 
“Will that cure her?” asked Nekro.
Luciferian did not answer. He simply stared at the silver fluid, as if hypnotized.
“Will it cure her?” repeated Nekro, this time demanding. 
“I don’t know,” snapped Luciferian. “It can keep a pony alive, against all odds, against all logic...but it often comes at a terrible price. It could change her fate, for the worse. By far. But I just don’t know. I don’t know what it will do to an alicorn...”
“Do we have another chance?”
Luciferian stared at Penumbra. “No.” 
“Then do it. Give it to her.”
Luciferian stared at the vial. He did not move.
“WELL?”
“Tell her,” said the demon, on the verge of laughter. “Why not? You wanted to be a hero. Let her know the noble sacrifice you’re making.”
“What is she talking about, Twilight?”
“It keeps me stable. My body is a clone. It used to keep me from aging...but now, it’s the only thing keeping HER out of my head.” He pointed to the demon. She had started lying on the floor, as if expecting a belly-rub. “And this is my last one. Without it, my condition will degrade. And rapidly.”
“Can you get more?”
Luciferian shook his head. “I can’t leave the Crystal Empire. Not on my own. All the exits are sealed. It has to be her. Only her. And I can’t reach her. I only have one dose left.” 
“Will you survive?”
“Survival’s hardly the issue. It’s more the oncoming immortality that concerns me. Maybe. I don’t know. A few hours, a day? Maybe two?”
“Less if you would just manifest me,” said the demon, wrapping her reeking hooves around Luciferian. “Summon me! Let me penetrate you, let me enter your flesh! You’ll enjoy every second of it, I promise!”
Nekron pushed her off. “Does it matter if I have an opinion?”
“No.”
“Too bad. Twilight, I cannot force you to do this. I cannot ask that of you. But our options are limited, and I fear time grows short.”
Luciferian groaned. “I know.”
With that, before he could stop himself, he uncorked the vial and poured the contents into his own mouth. Nekro turned away, knowing that hope had been lost- -but turned back as Luciferian picked up Penumbra- -gently, in a way he had never once handled his own daughter- -and put his lips to hers, forcing the fluid down her throat. 
The change was subtle. There was no coughing or retching, or even a change that would not be noticed by an experienced wizard or a necromancer- -but there WAS a change. Slowly, a modicum of color returned to Penumbra’s body. After a few moments, a faint heartbeat could be heard. 
“She’s alive,” gasped Nekron. She felt formaldehyde run down her cheeks. She was crying tears of joy. 
“Yes. Because of course it worked. The prophecy will come to fruition.” Luciferian reached out and flipped the princess over, so that she was facing upward.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking what’s mine. The prophecy is undeniable. She will be mine.” He reached out and grabbed one of Penumbra’s legs. Nekro instantly slapped his hoof away.
“Don’t touch her,” she ordered.
Luciferian smirked. “You don’t get to give me orders.”
Nekro cried out as she was forced to her knees- -not by Luciferian’s magic, but by her own. Not that, in truth, there was much of a difference. 
“You monster. She’s a little girl!”
“She’s a synthetic being.” Luciferian reached out and grasped Penumbra’s other leg. 
“Let go of her!” cried Facet, leaping forward and drawing a crudely carved crystal.
One of Luciferian’s own crystals activated, trapping her in a crushing gravity spell. Had she not been a crystal pony, it probably would have rendered her unconscious. Instead, she was lucky enough to get to watch. 
“She will love me,” laughed Luciferian, his tempo rising to manic cackling. “Somepony FINALLY WILL!” 
In that instant, space ruptured. Luciferian screamed as he was blinded by a blast of frozen, icy light. He was thrown back across the floor, landing hard on the stone and skittering across it until coming to rest against a pile of pointless equipment.
When the spots from his vision cleared, he looked up. He felt his blood run cold, at at the same time, his fury burning hot. Standing before him was something like a pony, though far taller, clad entirely in robes of white. The Nameless One had manifested. 
“Of all the times for you to arrive,” he groaned, standing with some effort. “And you’re going to stand in my way? Preventing me from taking what’s mine? What gives you the RIGHT?”
The Nameless One did not reply. He only stood, silent and still, watching from beneath his hood. 
Luciferian charged his horn. “You are Four of Thirteen. I was ONE. This is your LAST warning. Do NOT get in the way of me and my PROPERTY!”
“Yeah,” said the demon, sitting beside Luciferian. “About that. You’re going to want to think VERY carefully about your next move, Twily. Because it’s obvious you have no idea what that thing is. If you want to fight her, your only chance is to manifest me. And if that’s the path you’re choosing, DO IT NOW.”
Luciferian looked to her, unable to control his curiosity. “What is he?” he asked. “How do I defeat him?”
The demon shrugged. “They predate my attachment to your world, before souls. As for how to defeat her? You can’t. No chance. No one can. Except me.”
Luciferian turned back to the Nameless One, still not understanding why it had intervened- -and not sure if he should believe his personal demon. She tended to lie. 
Then in a second instant the Nameless One was not alone. The most powerful of the Dark Thirteen had been joined by the second-weakest: Thirteen had appeared, teleportation to her side and blocking the path to the princess. 
Luciferian laughed. “You’ve got me,” he said. “The prophecy is still valid, though. So I’ll wait. Eternity!”
“STOP SAYING MY NAME!” screamed Eternity in response. “Can’t you see I’m BUSY?! I’m trying to find Twilight Luciferian! I’ve been wasting my time on it for the past MONTH...maybe. I don’t remember. That’s not the point! That ugly lout...when I find him, I’m going to watch him USE THE BATHROOM...wait...you’re him.” A deafening mind-scream followed. “Have you been here the WHOLE TIME?! Do you have ANY IDEA how much EFFORT I put into finding you?! The LEAST you could to is TRY!”
“I need to speak to Sombra.” Luciferian smiled. “Ideally, soon. I have some news he might want to know.”