//------------------------------// // Chapter 16: The Silence of Sacrifice // Story: Death, Sacrifice, and the man in blue // by MrTyrannousaurusX //------------------------------// Fire. Red, hot, boiling. Those were the only words Celestia struggled to conjure to describe the nameless, blistering wrath painted over Platinum’s features.  His eyes, once sharp and booming with confidence, were now smoldering. In the place where his hazel jewels once resided were simmering husks, like the ends of fire pokers glowing white with an indescribable heat. Veins jutted from his forehead and neck as if red and blue vipers had sought refuge underneath his stone-gray flesh. His skin was vandalized with the dark trails, merely a byproduct of the cannonballs of sweat that had a marathon down his face. The blistering rage radiating from the formerly collected earth pony threatened to singe the alicorn. His back and chest rose high before making a dramatic fall as gusts upon gusts of oxygen entered his lungs. His heart clobbered his lungs with each thump that rang in his ears, sending colossal levels of pain shooting through his quivering frame with every beat.  Never once in all of Celestia’s years of ruling Equestria, or her entire life for that matter, had she seen any pony fuming that much. Much less Platinum of all people. Celestia showered the commander with reverence for his calm and cool as an iceberg mentality when faced with the most perilous situations on the battlefield. His ability to shoot orders like a verbal machine gun and watch in satisfaction as his loyal warriors followed them without question. The constant “Yes, Commander!” flowing from their mouths was music to his ears. But now, being faced with the jarring reality that all that remained of his beyond obedient soldiers were bloody capsules left to rot in the field, every last remnant of his tranquil nature was dashed. Eagerly occupying its place was a roaring fire of rage that swallowed his heart without hesitation, making Platinum merely a puppet in its presence. His blood turned to molten hot slag that traveled through his veins. Every action, every piercing glare he fired, every trooper he planned to slaughter for revenge was nothing more than his personified wrath tightening its grip over him. The flames of indignation that burned as if the sun had been placed in his chest jerked the strings controlling the blue-haired pony. Platinum reached a trembling hoof to his side, catching the gore-stained handle of his cutlass, that saw more violence in one day than it had in its lifetime, and tore it from his sheath.  The blade, short but more deadly than anyone could imagine, was a mixture of several different colors. Pink, red, ice blue, and countless others melted together to form the dagger that the commander knew as if it was his child. Thin white lines ran up and down through it like the long, lanky legs of a spider, reminding Celestia of every crystal that was sacrificed to forge it.  Platinum flipped the instrument of doom in his ironclad grasp almost identical to a lion toying with a dead gazelle in between its jaws. The keen razor-sharp end pointed towards the ground, reminding any enemy who laid there eyes on it where they would be if they crossed his path. His globes, ominously, never left the cold, lifeless globes of the Private.  The copious amounts of crimson that spilled from his grievous wound were no more, merely melting into the ocean of ichor that became one with the earth. His jaw hung agape, revealing the nauseating and equally as pitiful sight of his scarlet stained teeth. His eyes were the father of all nightmares. Cold. Dead. Celestia began to quickly run out of words to describe it. Simply put, a  ceaseless reminder of the lack of life that resided within the peach unicorn.  Platinum felt a sea full of guilt hit him like a freight train as his fiery gaze just so happened to fall right onto the Private’s optics. His mind thrusted him back in time to no more than seconds prior, seeing his eyes bursting with vigor and his voice laced with fear and confidence was a stark contrast to the corpse he was sharing a depthless gaze with. Or what could just barely be considered a sorry excuse for a gaze. They say the eyes are a gateway to the soul, if that was truly the case, the Private’s soul was empty. A dark chasm among powerless machines known as organs all around it.  “I…I’m so sorry, Private,” Platinum lamented in an immensely hushed voice. “He won’t get away with this! I’ll die before he does!”  Platinum craned his neck, hazel met magenta, the fierce and ravenous heat of indignation that rested in his orbs was almost frightening to the alicorn. Weirdly enough however, in a stark contrast to his appearance, his voice lacked even a sliver of what was readily present in his orbs.  “Be on high alert, Princess!” Platinum found it impossible to stress the importance enough in his panicked tone, in spite of how much he masked it with a front of unbelievably false bravery.  Platinum knew the jig was up. He had been caught. He was no longer the pony oozing with confidence that could slay any threat that dared to step in his path. All he was now was a frightened, worried, and deathly anxious commander who was holding on by the skin of his teeth to keep himself from crumbling to ash. Regardless of what his appearance looked like to others, he would try with every breath in his body to keep it up and running as long as it took. “Be on high alert! We have no idea where-” He stopped. His eyes ascended hastily from the alicorn's and to a spot several feet above his head. The sky, that had been utterly drab and colorless with the blanket of clouds that shielded the sun, gained a new decoration that grabbed the eyes of the duo. However, it wasn’t for the reason one would think, it robbed them of their attention for all the wrong reasons. More specifically, how downright dangerous and dread-inducing it truly was. Resting idle in the open air, transforming the air around it thick with menace, was a perfectly circular beach ball sized globule of magic. The illuminescent, lime-green color in contrast with the smoke-gray clouds it sat under made it look like a figment of the imagination. Something their brain fabricated in order to fill the colorless painting that was once the beautiful clear sky of Equestria. A thin ring circled the orb as if whoever spawned the sphere into existence pulled a planet from space and right before their very eyes. Large clusters of viridescent sparks erupted from all sides of the spheroid of raw magic while the hoop encircling it spinning, making it look more like a greenish blur than a hoop.  The very moment Platinum’s jaws separated and the aching bones in his arms prepared for battle, the perpetual robotic-like humming reverberating off the ball was sliced in two. Almost instantly, the sound was laid to rest by a great boom nearly identical to cannonfire that threatened to shatter the commander’s skull. His ears cried out in agony as he blenched, his already sore and pulsating frame nearly crumpling to the ground in agony at the sudden movement. Celestia on the other hand was a lot more fortunate than the earth pony. Her body, that was thankfully not riddled with afflictions, remained standing strong in the fear-inducing presence of the mighty globe.  In spite of her emotional blockade refusing entry to the fright the magic sphere hurled at her, an unexpected and pitiless strand of panic wriggled its way past her defenses. Deep inside, she knew without a shadow of a doubt who the magic belonged to. The color. The behavior. The laugh. The voice. Oh gosh, the voice. She knew it all too well. Keeping it hidden from the already distressed commander was the number one option for the alicorn and clearly the best out of the limited choosings she had. Option one: She tells Platinum the identity behind the pony who laid waste to his guard and possibly risk..what could only be described as an outrage of the ages. Option two: She keeps it concealed behind a veil of secrecy while simultaneously preventing an inner explosion from the blue-haired pony. The latter was the much more alluring option.   Without any hint of a warning, the brightly colored globe fulminated into a beautiful lightshow of solid color. Streams of deep purple and forest green wasted no time in painting the sky with their overwhelmingly attractive colors, as if someone was pouring paint over an upside down bowl Celestia and Platinum found themselves trapped inside like insects. Tinctures never ceased to brighten the sky, the gleam that nearly led tears to well in their eyes was still a much more lovely option than the monotone gray sky the alicorn had been used to ever since she began to engage in the bloodshed. However, regardless of how unbelievably pretty the detonation of shades and tints was, the sinister nature behind their very existence was beyond evident to the distressed Celestia. The radiance continued to pour down the walls of the magical cupola that encased them, as if the northern lights were a liquid that descended down the invisible barriers. Impossibly long streaks of purple and green like sage and violet veins entangling each other painted the unseen barricades. The gleam, which looked more like hypnotically-colored melted ice cream, descended agonizingly slowly down the blockade. Platinum’s grip on his bloodthirsty cutlass tightened with each passing second. His features sharpened with each dread-inducing moment that ticked by. His eyes began to don a fierce, unmatchable flame that would put the Devil himself to shame. At last, after what felt like years since the sparking ball spawned into existence, the army of vibrant tree sap’s adventure down the rampart came to a satisfying conclusion. And with it came…silence. Complete and utter silence. Not a word spoken. Not a sound being able to penetrate the impassable, mountainous walls of amethyst and virecent that enveloped them. With the dazzling dams of dazzling light and their ability to hear the horrors of war robbed from them, their senses were left with virtually nothing. The only thing capable of being heard within the spacious cage of color was her heartbeat hammering in her throat accompanied by the cyclone of thoughts that plagued her mind. The copious, inconceivable amount of thoughts. Most struck dread into the alicorn’s heart while most did the reverse opposite, sending jitters and lightning bolts of hope shooting through her throbbing bones. Platinum’s ironclad grip on his ichor-soaked hilt somehow managed to tighten, sending his veins popping through his flesh and the urge to battle until his final breath flowing through his arteries. The prospect of beheading the pony who stole the one thing he cared most about in all of Equestria from him was the one and only thing keeping his heart beating. His lungs desperately wanted nothing more than to cease and surrender. His extremities cried out in agony, unfathomable levels of soreness claiming every inch of his limbs. His nucleus no longer had the will to keep trucking along, it too wanted to crumble to dust and perish right then and there, sending Platinum with it on its one way trip to death’s door. However, much to his evidently suffering organ’s dismay, Platinum would not allow that to happen. Not if the violent and endless firestorm raging in his chest still had a hunger for only one feeling that could possibly satiate it. Vengeance. Revenge. The word left a putrid taste on the commander’s tongue that nearly sent bile roaring from the bowels of his gut. Being the captain and sole leader of the force protecting the Princess of Equestria, on top of viewing all of his soldiers as though they were his own flesh and blood, didn’t come without consequences. Colossal consequences. Consequences that the blue-haired pony learned in the worst way possible time and time again. From KIng Sombra’s onslaught on the Crystal Empire, he watched with grief-stricken eyes as the warriors he devoted years upon years of his life to become nothing more than a cold carcass bespeckling the marble floor. In spite of his momentous efforts to prevent the latter, more and more bodies fell. Each set of irises that locked with him in their final moments in Equestria, silently begging for mercy or for their much beloved and revered commander to rescue them from certain doom, progressively chipped away at his aching heart.  As much as his inner flame to protect anyone and everything ignited in the deepest pits of his core, nothing he could do that was within the boundaries of reality could save them. The bloodthirsty enemy’s expertly-honed blade was en route to his trooper’s jugular, just mere millimeters away from a devastating and, without question, fatal blow. Platinum was forced to only two equally dreadful options to choose from. Either he stood there and watched his comrade’s final seconds alive, or he rush over in vain and try and fail to cease the inevitable. In the end, Platinum was always left with the former. Everytime. No exceptions.  The cutlass collided with their flesh, the bitterly cold metal biting their raw muscle as it buried into their neck like an animal seeking refuge beneath the earth. A geyser of scarlet was soon to explode from their utmost grievous and cavernous wound, painting their killer's manic expression with a fresh ruby-red coat. With their jaws heavily separated and their carmine-stained canines glinting in the golden light of the sun they didn’t deserve to live under, all the crimson volcano ended up doing was giving their attacker a more striking resemblance to what they truly were. A monster.  Even after watching his companion get murdered just feet away from him, Platinum didn’t have room in his heart for the desire of revenge. In his mind, retribution was a grudge, something he utterly abhorred entirely. When he was battling for his life in the battlefield, the stench of death laying waste to his senses, harboring any sense of emotions towards an enemy grunt felt like an absolute waste of energy. The emotional power that he could’ve used to retain an intense hatred for another pony he instead used to slay soldiers that would’ve executed his men otherwise.  In the present however, with the reality of his entire array of faithful men-at-arms being six feet under crushing his bones, every philosophy he previously held close to his heart was nothing more than a memory. A memory permanently stained with the fury and ichor of that fateful day. The remembrances of every pony he slayed that were tragically misled by their so-called “King” being forever engraved into his psyche.  Outside of Platinum’s swirling, stormy mess of a mind, the indestructible silence shared between the blue-haired pony and the alicorn never ceased. It was only him, a sweat-drenched Celestia, and the lifeless cadaver of the Private, the spear that robbed him of his life still lodged in his windpipe. The duo didn’t dare to move, in fact, the thought never even crossed their minds.  They stood there. Still. Deathly still. Platinum’s head leisurely swiveled from left to right like he was a turret scanning for a target to annihilate. More specifically, looking for the owner of the boisterous laugh and most certainly the one who was responsible for the magic dome they were trapped in.  Whoever or whatever it was, they knew with the utmost certainty that Platinum and Celestia were his prisoners. His playthings he could release or torment at his convenience. For all intents and purposes, their lives were being juggled in the overlord’s hooves, spectating them from wherever he stood. Waiting for the perfect moment to strike to sink his fangs into the shatterproof pair.  Moments turned into seconds. Seconds bled into minutes.  Soon , time lost its meaning entirely. The only thing that even slightly resembled a chronometer was the mental clock ticking rhythmically in Platinum’s head, a constant reminder how long he had been confined to this vibrant dome.  One minute and fifty-two seconds. Nothing. One minute and fifty-five seconds. Still, nothing. One minute and fifty-eight seconds.  Dread wrapped coiled its tendrils around his spine. Fear threatened to swallow his heart and extinguish the flame of undying anger that burned brighter than the sun within it.  Out of absolute nowhere, tearing through the menacing silence like a bullet through a pillow, a sound erupted. However, much to his dismay in spite of how much he tried to suppress it, the booming and boisterous laugh that invaded his ears was unlike anything he had ever heard before. Not because of how unique or striking it was to the senses. No. In fact, it was quite the opposite. It stood out to the blue-haired pony for every vile reason one could comprehend with a sane mind.  The amount of fuel it cast into the hellfire of wrath that devoured his heart and, slowly but surely, his soul, was the one and only reason it struck Platinum harder than ever before. To add to the mammoth list of why the guffaw was beyond wicked, it was the same alarming noise that bursted from the crowd moments before the Private caught a javelin with his windpipe.  That magic aura…it looked so..familiar. So insidiously familiar.   Platinum couldn’t put his hoof on it despite his best efforts.  He knew he’d seen it before, that was for certain. The colors were indescribably distinctive. In all of his years of living, he had never seen such a color pattern form around an object. Platinum tried in vain to sift through through the fiery hurricane laying waste to his mind to find something, anything, that would point him in the right direction and give him the answer he oh so desperately wanted. Not that he wanted, he needed.  Maybe if he could decipher who the identity of who the colors belonged to, it would be exceptionally easier to fabricate fantasies in his head where the monster’s head was no longer attached to his being. Just another fragment of the revolutionary battle that took place right in that very field where his skull lay. Lifeless. Dead. Exactly what he deserved. “If I’m honest with you Commander, I’m surprised you made it this far.” A reverberating voice erupted from the thin air occupying the dome, a repugnant measure of pride poisoning his every word.  “WHO ARE YOU! SHOW YOURSELF, COWARD!” “There’s no need for introductions, Commander,” The disembodied voice continued, his the raw menace braided within his speech stabbing the blue-haired pony’s eardrums like thumbtacks. “I believe you and I know each other very well.” “C-COME OUT! NOW!” Platinum thundered, bravery oozing from his booming threat, only to be betrayed by an anxious stutter that invaded his words.  In spite of his best efforts, Platinum couldn’t cease the panic kindling to life in his chest amidst the everliving bonfire of wrath at the pony’s foreboding tone. To say the hunger for revenge and the insatiable urge to call up into a ball in fright were fighting for supremacy would be a criminal understatement.  “Is that truly what you want?” The Royal Guard's killer asked, as though he was genuinely trying and failing to warn them of some impending threat just on the horizon.  The sudden and stark shift in his timbre was frightening to say the least. Having someone’s words strike mountains of fear into him and take a sharp U-turn, replacing the menace that once resided there with a sense of apprehension. Was he indeed looking out for the soldier’s well-being? Or was he the most vile liar on the face of the planet and treated gaslighting as if it was a game with a prize at the end? Platinum had no idea. What he did know however was that all the coward behind the cryptic statements was doing nothing but buying time. Spending every last metaphorical penny he had to his name for crucial seconds to run out the clock. Maybe, if he was lucky, a few nickels would get him half a minute away from Platinum’s wrath. The only thing that kept his starving heart at bay was the fact encased in truth that one of these moments that were looming dangerously close, the unicorn would reveal himself. Only then would the barking dog in his chest be satisfied. “I’M NOT GONNA ASK YOU AGAIN!” Platinum’s miniscule ultimatum practically exploded from his mouth, the endless fantasies of the Guard's murderer’s demise running more and more rampant in his mind with each millisecond that ticked by. “ARE YOU SCARED TO DIE, YOU BASTARD!” “‘Scared to die’?” The voice remarked, the battle against the desire to burst into laughter bleeding into his inquiry.  “Do you really think you can kill me?” “YES!” Platinum roared, his voice transforming into a barren desert wasteland with every letter he rumbled. “WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?” “For you to realize the mistake you’re making,” The unicorn replied. “Do you not yet understand what I’m capable of?” “I suppose I do!” Platinum exclaimed, his throat running too brittle for him to scream any longer.  “That ‘Royal Guard’ of yours didn’t stand a chance against me. What a great leader you are.”  Platinum’s breath quickened, each gust of oxygen that escaped his lungs felt like he was breathing the fire of fury living in his heart. His teeth clenched as hard as he could for the second time that day, the worry of his jaw shattering to pieces being the last thing on his laundry list of reasons to grow nervous. The Grade A hazel gems that occupied his eye sockets were gone, in their place were smoldering hunks of brimstone that vaguely resembled the amber color they once held. The thick charcoal smoke rising from the flames of rage swallowing his core threatened to expel from his nose.  The longing for vengeance materialized into a famine. The yearning were no longer yelping canines fighting their damndest to be free, stealing their position right from beneath was a herd of malnourished lions, their incessant roaring  terrorizing his thoughts.  However, as if some omnipotent being blessed him with their grace by allowing his needs to be met, the pack of empty carnivores deep within him would have to suffer no longer. Platinum finally got what he had asked for. Just a mere few feet behind him, a dull yet still painful sound of a band of firecrackers detonating all at once erupted from behind him, sending the fragments of whatever silence once resided in the dome falling to the ground. The blue-haired pony knew the sound all too well, in fact, the normally annoying popping noise thrusted the commander years back in time.  In a period when his Royal Guard still inhabited the land of the living, a tsunami of now bittersweet memories turned his mind into a tornadoing mess into a whirlpool in almost no time at all. He recollected the hours upon hours he would spend with his warriors in the blazing sun above their heads, honing their ability to teleport at will to gain a crucial advantage on the battlefield. The sights of their horns igniting, filling Platinum with anticipation for what was to come, only a small and pitiful streak of magic to fall from the tip. He remembered fighting off the urge to sigh and vocalize his disappointment in fear of striking down the trooper’s aspirations of fighting for the Princess. All that poor sputter indicated to the tan pony was immeasurable hours he would need to spend sharpening their capabilities.  In the present, Platinum wanted nothing more than to go back and cherish those moments with his comrades. Do anything but take the days and weeks he spent with them for granted. Tell his prideful past self that, contrary to his popular beliefs, he and his infantry were not invincible. That one day a threat could and would be more than capable of wiping his army from the plain of existence, making them nothing more than a name in the yellowed-pages of history books. Nevertheless, despite how much he loathed admitting it, he knew all of the thoughts leaping off the walls of his skull were just that. Thoughts. Veined attempts to cope with the earth-shattering loss he suffered.  However, there was one method of coming to terms with his privation that stood behind his sweat-drenched back. The very same one who caused the emotional turmoil laying waste to his psyche in the first place. Separating the unicorn’s head from his neck would grant the blue-haired pony the satisfaction he needed to push through and recover from what had been lost. All of the unfathomable amounts of brutal, grisly make-believe scenarios his grief-afflicted brain fabricated led to this. This was it. Platinum’s grip strengthened around his hilt to levels he never even considered were possible, like a shark tightening its jaws around an unsuspecting seal, moments away from consumption. Small, pitiful strands that peeked out from the matted and entangled mess he somehow called a royal-blue mohawk blew in the breeze as he whipped around like weeds being bulldozed by a mighty wind. His hooves left the molds that his armor embedded in the blood-soaked mud for a split second while his body whirled around, his body metamorphosing into an unearthly blur for a shred of a moment.  The commander’s tender and throbbing appendages met the gnarled soil once more, sending marble-sized richly colored drops of sludge shooting from the landing site and only adding to the ever growing collection that fully caked his formerly silver sabatons. His bones, which were already teetering on the edge of splintering into a thousand pieces, didn’t respond favorably to the action whatsoever. His core threatened to rupture at the nearly torturous move, simultaneously sending electric bolts of agony blasting through his nerves like a subway train kicked into overdrive.  This was it. The moment he and the spirits of his fallen comrades have been waiting for. The fight of his life. He had two and only two options now: Either avenge his fallen comrades who’s specters continue to loom over him and spectating the fight like romans watching gladiators, or die trying. He had no other choice. However, the very instant his body twirled faster than any brain could comprehend, a new feeling began to devour his heart and threatened to snuff the flame of ire that reigned supreme. He couldn’t exactly put his hoof on what exactly it was. Dread? Fear? Panic? It didn’t matter. The bottom line was that whatever emotion had contaminated his core, it was powerful enough to override the dominating hunger for vengeance that had been sovereign up until that point.  His hoof gained a new, troublesome tremble, shaking furiously as it lowered just barely over an inch to the ground.  His jaws, once clenched and on the border of utter destruction, separated, forming his grimace into raw and unbridled shock. He refused to trust whatever hallucination was being presented in front of him.  There was no way in any frame of reality he was the one. It couldn’t be. He spurned to believe it. After all this time, the unfathomable agony laying waste to his psyche of being deprived of his Guard was…him.  Platinum, with a struggle, shifted his eyes from the stabbing globes behind the slits in his visor helmet and swiveled his head, meeting the panicked gaze of Princess Celestia. Splashed over her features and forming a lagoon in her irises was a question, an inquiry burning brighter than any star could ever dream of. It was one word and one word alone: How? Standing before the shell-shocked and horror-stricken pair with perfect posture with his hooves planted securely in the dirt was a large, ironclad unicorn that put any bodybuilder the duo ever laid eyes on to shame. His midnight-black armor devoid of even a fragment of a color stood in stark contrast to the vibrant virescent dome several meters behind him. His sabatons were smothered in shimmering scarlet ichor, the vile wet contents that once belonged to the inside of a pony glimmering in what little sunlight pierced through the clouds.  Large and repulsive charcoal stains bespeckled the entirety of his torso like the aftermath of an explosion. Despite how well it blended in with the stygian metal, it never ceased to plague the near perfect image his protection had. Lengthy streaks of mud and somehow still sparkling crimson stained his previously flawlessly made helmet. Holes, cracks, and anything that could be considered a blemish dotted his hard guard, allowing his ashen flesh to be seen. From the slats in his eyeshade, Platinum could see with elongated and terror-afflicted eyes the ruby-red optics the demon possessed. To say they struck droves of trepidation into his already aching nucleus would be nothing but a criminal understatement. Jutting out from a hole at the peak of his head shield was a..peculiar looking horn to say the least. The base was a sinister smoke-gray tint that gradually bled into a deep, angry carmine the further it traveled up his source of energy. Small trails of smoke rose from the razor-sharp end from the copious amounts of magic stored in his being he exerted on Platinum’s undeserving men.  The menacing and, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, threatening hue sent mammoth levels of trepidation rocketing through his bones. Adrenaline became the new king of his veins. His body stiffened. Platinum fought back the urge to jump at the crackling sound that abruptly erupted from beside him, instantly seeing the snow-white skin belonging to Celestia standing high and mighty at his side.  Ever since he had been appointed as the head of the Royal Guard many moons ago, he knew a day like this one was on the horizon. A day where the army that Platinum dumped months into would crumble to dust slipping from his hooves. More importantly, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that with every battle he engaged, his end was gradually approaching. Blow after blow. Death after death. His reckoning was nearing inch by inch with each body that hit the floor. He accepted that reality long ago. He was more than aware that one of the many times he rushed into the battlefield with a chip on his shoulder, he would become one of the many that never come out.  Platinum realized his time was looming over him and, despite how much he desired to, he couldn’t stop fate. If he couldn’t cease it, he might as well accept it. If he was going to drop dead in that battle, have this glorious and valiant clash be his last, he was going to make sure he took the monster down with him. He wouldn’t take no for an answer. Celestia’s horn surged. A blinding gold orb formed at the tip. Sterling and unconstrained waves of magic swept through her lightly quivering frame. Her blood picked up pace through her arteries, turning each and every one of her blood vessels into rampant subway stations as cells rocketed through. The alicorn's eyes, once harboring an undying determination within her magenta orbs, was dashed. In their place was a burning, smoldering, ceaseless urge to strike down the unicorn leisurely approaching them. The aura he carried on his shoulders without even a sliver of a care in the world radiated a sickening, nearly nauseating arrogance that threatened to send bile erupting from her gullet. “Oh, you two,” The butcher laughed, raising his head high as his hearty, boisterous chuckle invaded the pairs’ ears. “How pitiful.” “What are you waiting for?” Platinum spat, animosity braided within his words. “Fight me! Fight us!” In spite of the slits in his helmet shielding his scarlet globes nearly perfectly, the commander still managed to make out his brows furrowing. A confused yet amused expression painted over his features concealed by his lifeless, dark steel helmet. “Are you sure that is a smart idea, Commander Wing? After all, you’re under my control now! You have no place to be making demands of me.”  “You’re not in control of anything anymore!” Platinum thundered, all of the rage he let bottle up in his nucleus be released at long last. “I’m gonna rip you apart!” In the span of what could barely be considered a second, Platinum’s wrath transformed into a smoking abhor that wounded his heart. Celestia on the other hand felt her world crumble to dust and blow to oblivion in the breeze that tried and failed to ease her scorching, sweat-drenched skin.  The maniac’s horn ignited, engulfing it along with the borders of his helmet in a mellifluous and ill-omened purple cloud of magic. In one swift motion, before Platinum or Celestia could prepare their irises for the event they were dangerously close to witnessing, it finally happened. The moment Platinum had been waiting in the agonizing minutes following the revelation that his Guard was deceased. The identity of the murderer who robbed Platinum of everything would be revealed at long last.  To say the commander was practically secreting eagerness to sink his teeth into the butcher would be an understatement. His heart bled with excitement, something he never thought he’d feel in all of his ways towards killing another pony. After all, it was something Platinum utterly loathed. However, he knew for certain that if it had to be done to secure his and his comrades’ safety, it was going to be done. No exceptions. In spite of every moral guideline Platinum had strictly abided by for countless years, all of it was dashed in a spur of a moment at the sight of the hulking headsman before him. Every last remnant of once was a set of stern, invincible sets of principles that he followed as intently as humanly possibly were reduced to clusters of fleeting memories.  There taking the liberty of the frightened duos’ eyes away was the unicorn himself. The unicorn who struck fear into the hearts of ponies far and wide with the mere mention of his name. The unicorn who thrusted all of the bloodshed and carnage into motion that fateful day. The unicorn who sent Platinum’s life work plummeting into an untimely grave.  King Sombra. His shrewd crimson orbs were housed by an ashen, smoke-gray face with a chin occupied by a sleek, glossy beard that swayed like a undeserving boat on rocky waters. His sharp, almost too sharp, features were complimented and dare he say one-upped by the long and lustrous midnight mane flowing behind his head. The velvet and glistening charcoal hair looked more like darkness in liquid form oozing from his skull rather than real locks. The way it gracefully waved and fluttered in the chill-inducing breeze would usually dazzle the pair under any normal circumstances. However, looking back down at the manically grinning, keen features of the so-called “King” boring holes into them, the once elegant movement swiftly turned to a blaring warning symbol. Trying it’s absolute damndest to deter the two from engaging the monarch any further.  Before the commander could even think about heeding their cautions, the still thriving flames of fury residing in his heart killed any feeling of trepidation that threatened to enter. Now, with the pleas forever condemned to fall on deaf ears, Platinum was hurled back into the smoldering clutches of his heart's desires, giving his strings a tug to remind him of his goal. The very reason he refused to collapse and die in the face of forthcoming doom. He would have the head of King Sombra. Even if he lost his life in the process. The twosome’s attention was briefly robbed by the weighty, solid-iron helmet impacting the dirt with a loud metallic thunk. The tip of the pitch-black steel embedded several inches deep into the gore-soaked soil, becoming one of the endless amounts of armor fallen from their previous owners that bespeckled the battlefield.  “Hello, Princess.” Sombra sneered, the arrogance leaking from his ever-so-slightly intimidating voice nearly bringing bile to the alicorn’s throat. “It is about time we meet again, Commander Wing.” “It was you…” Platinum breathed, his brain just barely being able to fathom the information being funneled down his throat. The blue-haired pony couldn’t believe his ears, fully convinced without a shadow of a doubt they were deceiving him. Playing some vile, fabricated tune to release the beast battling for freedom in his core. It was…him? All the time his mind wasted creating repulsive and utterly gruesome fantasies of revenge were ash. The eagerness coursing through his bones died in the ruthless wake of shock. The raw, unbridled, rampant shock that rippled through his being like a boulder meeting a colossal lake. How did Sombra manage to do this? Why would Sombra go out of his way to battle a group of keenly trained warriors knowing full well that death was a very likely possibility? Just…why?  None of it made even a sliver of sense. Out of all the confrontations and clashes Platinum and the Guard initiated with Sombra’s army, why did he choose now as the perfect time to strike where it hurt the most? He couldn’t wrap his head around any of it.  However, just as quickly as the cyclone of inquiries swarmed his psyche like a kingdom of hornets, they were banjaxed. In their place, making themselves comfortable in the throne of Platinum’s mind, were the formerly make believe scenarios of revenge against the Guard's killer. Now back with an undying vengeance invulnerable to any thought of reason.  With a snap of their fingers and a grimacing chuckle that echoed through his skull, his immortal heart of wrath tugged the strings once again. Floodgates ceased their blocking of adrenaline, allowing it to claim supremacy in his veins in the blink of an eye. Molten hot slag became the new king of his arteries. Vigor rushed through his bones, eliminating any and all aches and pains that once ailed him. His grip, in some way he couldn’t understand, tightened around the vibrant sword’s handle.  The image his mind illustrated of Sombra’s head resting lifeless on the ground, his scarlet globes forever lacking the heart-stopping menace they once held with pride, sent flocks of excitement enveloping his bones.  He was ready. His final battle was here and now. King Sombra would not see the end of that day, a fact the monarch's sickening pride wouldn't allow him to process. Whether he believed it or not, Sombra was going to learn the fact one way or another.  Platinum whipped his head to lock eyes with the slightly intimidated Celestia. Seeing her close friend’s globes blazing hotter than the sun with an astronomical level of fury she couldn’t describe unnerved her to say the least. For years she had been accustomed and quite welcoming of the commander’s soft, inviting hazel gems that beamed an indescribable joy. No matter how dire a situation may be, or how down in the dumps Celestia might be, she knew unquestionably Platinum would be there. Being his superior’s safe haven and a bursting spring of comfort was something the blue-haired pony cherished more than nearly anything.  However, with the intense inferno in his optics swallowing every fragment of solace in the present, Celestia couldn’t fight back a sense of intimidation from kindling. A feeling she never thought in a million years she would experience towards him. A pony who wanted nothing more than to make sure Celestia could wake up breathing. Someone who had been a shining star in her otherwise dark, stress-filled royal life. Somepony she viewed as her best friend. Now, seeing the apex of his fury unfolding right before her very eyes, a part of her knew that pony was gone. Left to rot in the hellfire which consumed his formerly loving heart.  Still, she knew with the utmost certainty that now was not the time for lamenting. It was time for the fight of her life. The alicorn would have all the time in the world to cope with the day's events after Sombra’s cadaver hit the floor. If they both lived to see it. Celesita shot the beyond eager commander hasty nod, praying with every ounce of her strength he didn’t penetrate her masquerade of bravery. Much to her relief, the only thing he saw was the pinpoint of determination glinting in her magenta irises. The sole thing he needed to ignite his fighting spirit. Maybe, more possibly than they would’ve liked, their final battle. If that happened to be the case, Platinum wouldn’t draw his final breath until the deed was done. He knew that for a fact. If he was going out in a blaze of glory, he was taking Sombra down with him. “All this time it was YOU!” Platinum roared, animosity braided within his words as beads of saliva careening in every direction.  If he had let out that mighty bellow at any normal pony, they would’ve crumbled into a trembling mess in the blink of an eye. Sombra on the other hand acted as though it never even happened. Was it his lack of fear? Mental strength? With Sombra, anything could be the case.  Platinum and Celestia sprung back in unison, their combined battling spirit dashing side by side with their inconceivable amounts of adrenaline. The alicorn's horn threatened to blind any and all who dared to lay there eyes upon its golden glory. Teeth clenched. Jaws tightened. Eyes like perfectly honed swords. The pair couldn’t make it any more obvious how unexpectedly powerful their desire to end the monarch’s reign of terror truly was. All in all, much to no one’s surprise, Sombra stood unphased. His imposing demeanor and razor-sharp features plastered on his face showed not even a sliver of stopping.The only thing that remotely showed any signal of change whatsoever was the sinister, bone-chilled deep purple aura his horn suddenly gained. A final clamoring warning of imminent doom. If the duo didn’t back down now, catastrophe would soon follow. But, doomed to share the fate as the first indications of danger, their pleas fell on deaf ears. “I’ve been looking for you, Commander Wing. I figured you’d hunt me down by now for what I did to your pathetic excuses for soldiers.” Sombra sneered, another one of his signature booming laughs escaping his lungs.  Platinum used every last drop he could muster through his trembling being to power his ironclad legs to their utmost. Each pound of his hoof slamming against the dirt was like seconds ticking on a timer, flashing impending danger for the ruthless ruler when it reached zero. Despite his molten fury and the slag lumbering through his veins, Sombra once again stood undaunted. It seemed having no care in the world whatsoever about his safety was a special talent of his.  The commander charged with adrenaline-induced speeds, the whetted end of his sword aimed dead-center at the unicorn’s heart. The rushing ball of wrath dove his sword through the air with the strength of a god, fully intent on reducing the monarch’s heart to mere shreds. Alas, fate dealt its cruel hand to the grieving pony once more, rearing its ugly head in the most dreadful way imaginable.  When the crystal cutlass was a hair lengths away from laying waste to the king’s core, a blinding and abrupt explosion of purple and green instantly robbed him of his sight. Platinum’s years of war training utterly betrayed him, causing his cemented instincts to hijack his seemingly impossible rage-influenced being.  The unforgiving ice-cold mud wasted no time in ravaging the nerves hidden beneath Platinum’s face, sending lightning bolts of chills rocketing through his already aching frame. The commander’s mouth, remaining agape from the deafening war cry he released, wasn’t spared from the dark sludge’s ruthless onslaught. His tongue exploded with the vile, wretched taste of blood and spilled organs. His nostrils wanted nothing more than death. In stark contrast to every other sense throughout his body, the rage never ceased. In fact, the humiliation of Platinum’s degrading tumble only added more fuel to the already roaring and evidently untameable flame.  Sombra let an amused chuckle break loose from the bowels of his lungs. Amusement overcame his will to bash the blue-haired pony’s brains into pudding. Seeing his adversary, and the only real threat to him on the battlefield, drag his hooves from the nauseating mire as he struggled to stand was a circus act. Much to his shock and dismay, the realization that all things good and bad alike have to end eventually hit him in the utmost dreadful way. Or, more specifically, struck him like a golden magic bolt from a wrathful alicorn’s horn. KRAKOOM! Sombra’s features, once painted with repulsive levels of arrogance and mirth, were now under new management by fury. His teeth clamped. His jaws threatened to shatter one another. His heart was attacked by a wave of anger. His eyes snapped to his side, vexation flashing in his crimson optics at the smoking charcoal impact zone. Another attempt at his life tallied in his brain. Sombra’s globes broke free from the nearly hypnotic gaze of his armor’s fresh blemish and into a sea of magenta. The very same hue that belonged to the orbs of the sweat-covered, heaving, trepidation-filled Princess of Equestria. Long strings of smoke rose from the tip of Celestia’s source of magic. Cannonballs of perspiration secreted from her pores, the competition of which bead could reach the bottom first having a clear winner. Her irises, formerly sharp and determined, were now wide akin to a deer staring down headlights. In Sombra’s case, he was the car and Celestia was the unsuspecting doe, staring down her imminent demise as the gravity of her mistake quickly overwhelmed her. For every time Celestia thwarted the monarch and threw his plans into the flames. For every soldier that lost their life at the hands of her army she gave orders to. She fully expected without a doubt in her mind that her existence had come to an end. She was beyond finished. Any moment now, the king’s horn would flare and her head would be a memory, condemning her to a cruel fate of being a statistic among the thousands of dead warriors.  How would her family feel? How would Platinum feel, if Platinum would even survive long enough to feel anything for her. How would Equestria survive without her? Who would be the next princess? Nothing in her stormy rumbling tornado of questions in her mind had even a shred of an answer, nor did she possess the capabilities of fabricating any. Her perception of time swiftly died, causing the measly second after the blast to stretch into what felt like days. All the while her psyche tried its damndest to survive the barrage of panic laying waste to her fragile foundation.  Minutes dragged. Hours lingered. The ticking of her inner chronometer lost its meaning. Despite the passage of the world around her, the overbearing dread of her, what she assumed to be, impending doom remained. The battle for dominance inside of her throbbing and stinging heart was a glorious sight to behold. Seeing the ravenous spirit of fear locking horns with the valiant warrior of confidence was certainly spectacular to say the least. Though, amidst the blood and carnage the combatants left in their wake, a clear winner was never decided. However, the very instant she comprehended the sight of Sombra’s scarlet horn gaining an almost blinding glow, a new contender entered the brutal scuffle. The sense that her quietus was just around the corner. Whether she liked it or not, she was going to have to face it head on. Death was here with the Grim Reaper in tow, ready to seize her soul the very moment her cadaver hit the soil. All she could do was stand and watch.  As the earth-shattering noise signaling a violent end to her days ripped through the dome’s silence, the only option left for the alicorn was to stare down her demise. A fate she never thought she’d endure in a million years.  Ever since her teenage years, when she truly realized the concept of dying, she dreamed of a peaceful departure. At least as much as she possibly could. Nothing about having one’s life slip from their grasp sounded “peaceful”, not by any stretch of the imagination. Drawing your last breath. Hearing your heart pound against your ribs one last time. The family that surrounded you seeing your globes dulled by age shut for the final time. Not one bit of it sounded even remotely close to anything tranquil. To Celestia however, lying in the comfort of her own room flooded beautifully with sunlight as she rasped her goodbyes was ideal. It’s what she always wanted. In spite of what Celestia desperately desired, as if destiny itself was spitting a shiny lob onto her hopes and dreams, that was a reality made impossible by King Sombra. Glaring definitely at the dazzling yet sinister ball of raw magic hurtling towards her, the aspirations of a soothing exit of the land of the living sounded beyond pleasurable. Resting her pulsating head gingerly against her pillow, awaiting the Reaper’s glacial, bony hand to guide her to the heavens above sounded much more appealing than…this.  In the end, it didn’t matter. She was going to die. That was a fact that cemented into her psyche quicker than she would’ve liked. The very instant Celestia began to feel the blistering heat of the globe against the bare flesh of her neck, a winner was finally declared in the battle raging on in her core. It wasn’t fear. It wasn’t determination. It was…acceptance. BOOM! Whether it was Celestia’s cadaver or still living body taking a meteoric ride through the air like a star plummeting from the heavens Sombra wasn’t entirely sure. Whatever the case may be, the utmost and immense satisfaction he felt watching the pesky alicorn’s form turn into a white blur was completely unmatched. Nothing he had ever done in all of his years up to that point felt as good as blasting the Princess of Equestria to kingdom come. Somehow managing to surpass the moment he began his reign of, what he viewed to be grace, over the Crystal Empire all those decades ago.  Glee swiftly knocked every other emotion off there throne, reigning supreme in Sombra’s blackened and oozing, despite it being a sorry excuse, heart. His nucleus jumped for joy and waged war against his ribcage, engaging in a fierce battle for freedom. The monarch’s face donned a sinister, contorted smile, flashing his glinting canines for all the world to see as his tongue traveled across his lips. Delight beamed from his rubies embedded in his sockets like a flashlight, his sick and utterly twisted sense of humor being on full display. Strands of ashen smoke rose from the end of his, somehow still surviving, horn from the thunderous blast that surprisingly didn’t shake the planet.  However, in spite of how dearly the king didn’t want his relishing to conclude, all good things had to come to an end. At least what his contorted and beyond wicked mind viewed as “good”.  With Celestia thoroughly and completely eliminated from the question, that left only one pony to be scratched from his list. The very same one that remained stomach-first in an abhorrent puddle of grime and shame.  For everything Platinum Wing had done to harm Sombra and rock his entire operation to the core, he deserved more than what the unicorn was going to lay down onto him. A lot more. Without question. If he had it his way, mercy would’ve been wiped from his vocabulary unaccompanied by even a shred of ruth. Yet, much to his dismay, a job had to be done. To Sombra, the battered commander, who’s psyche lay teetering on the brink of vanquishment, was nothing but a thorn ready to be plucked.  Across the vast sea of failed and veined attempts to siege Canterlot and its inhabitants, one smug and hardened face consistently appeared in each one of his memories without fail. Every last one of them contained a set of hazel, keen, intelligent globes that lacked any sign of exhaustion as the owner bulldozed through the battlefield. The cries erupting from his lungs ringing out through the discord of war replaying in the back of his mind like a broken record. Seeing ropes of crimson fly from the freshly severed necks of his soldiers, only adding to the ever growing ichor polluting Platinum’s armor, adding logs to the ever growing fire within his chest. Truthfully, Sombra didn’t care as much as his adversary did about his warriors. The way he saw it, they were just tools. Merely chess pieces with beating hearts and inflating lungs that bring him one step closer to victory with each kill that garnished the battleground. Regardless of what little space in his heart he reserved for his troopers, they were his at the end of the day. As a result, they were his responsibility and his alone. While being a king was nothing short of intoxicating, having to cater and train tens of thousands of ponies for combat was tiring. Be that as it may, if he dumped hours and hours of his time into them, he expected results.  The imagination had no limits when it came to thinking the extent of his outrage when the only outcomes he received had not even a hint of success. Off the chart, skyrocketing casualties were the sole thing staring him back into his blazing eyes. The sheer level was incomprehensible.  Ever since that fruitless attack on the hub of Equestria, he knew with the utmost certainty somebody had to pay. Someone needed to suffer the consequences for the unthinkable setbacks they brought upon him like the wrath of god striking him down for his sins. For months, Sombra had been yearning for the atonement he so desperately wanted for all the trouble imposed onto him. Now, the very same bastard who summoned all of the unicorn’s difficulties into existence was at the ruler’s mercy. Sombra had his life juggling between his hooves, and he planned to take full and unadulterated advantage of it. No one could stop him now.  “Now,” The sovereign drawled, leisurely turning his head to face his soon-to-be victim, who never strayed from the pool of revulsion. “Where were-” WHUMP! Before the monarch had even the slightest clue of what was to come, he felt the entirety of the abused and maltreated commander’s body weight crash into his. Sombra could only envision the agony that must’ve been swarming his skull after suffering such a blow to his bulky armor. After such a collision, especially from a helmet-less head, it was a miracle Platinum didn’t deflate and perish on the spot. However, if the day's events were an indication of anything, the commander was far from his demise. A fact Sombra knew wouldn’t stay truthful for much longer. In spite of his best efforts to remain upright, the so-called king crumbled, his hefty armor sinking inches deep into the gore-soaked mud beneath him. Right as he was moments away from mustering the magic to knock Platinum’s head clean off his shoulders, he felt two ironclad grips clamp onto his forelimbs. With zero regard for his well-being, he was lifted from his bitter and putrid temporary prison of sludge and slammed back down. The only difference from his last position being the immense weight threatening to collapse his midsection and the duo of aflame amber optics boring holes into his.  As if his impenetrable emotional wall downright betrayed him, a ghost of intimidation snaked its way into Sombra’s oozing heart. While continuing to bask in the light of his sickening confidence, the ruler couldn’t help but feel just a nanometer smaller than before underneath the chief’s scorching gaze.  “All of this! All of this for WHAT!” Platinum thundered, sending pearls of saliva raining down onto Sombra’s unsuspecting face. Regardless of the coolness of his bodily fluids, the lethal levels of rage were felt all the same.  The stream of virescent and amethyst light, that had been constantly streaming into his orbs, was abruptly shattered, With the newfound shade freshly draped over his irises, he broke free from the white-glowing chains of Platinum’s scowl and onto his hoof raised high above him. But not just any regular hoof. His very specific, war-torn, sword-wielding hoof. The very same one that held his signature cutlass and simultaneously sliced the, up until now, consistent train of illuminance.  Unlike any regular pony in the situation he was suddenly thrusted into, instead of flying into an uncontrollable panic and shooting off magic like there was no tomorrow, a different approach was taken. One the sovereign himself didn’t remotely expect him to take whatsoever. In the face of his impending murder at the hands of his second most hated individual in all of Equestria, he felt an odd sense of…collectiveness. A stark contrast of the distress anypony else would feel in his scenario. Muddled in with the out-of-place feeling of order within him, there was also a slight yet still readily apparent feeling of annoyance towards his adversary.  He was unsuspectedly sucked into a storm of irritation at the circumstances his sworn enemy put him under. His swirling angry cyclone that never ceased in the recesses of his mind, consisting only of aspirations of revenge, emerged from the bowels. He was going to see Platinum dead no matter the consequences. Any means necessary were on the table ripe for the picking. One of them was short, sweet, and simple. The one Sombra found the most attractive out of the bunch.  He blast Platinum’s sword into the afterlife and split his hopes of vengeance in half. It had a pleasant ring to it that would sound even better if he brought it into reality.  The very same thing he did just moments later. The unicorn’s horn ignited. His crosshairs were set. And a bolt went soaring.  A searing, torturous legion of agony swiftly laid waste to his hoof, instantaneously shooting down his arm and adding to the pain that heretofore existed there. However, somehow and someway, Platinum’s appendage wasn’t the one who paid the heftiest price for the killer’s brutal attack. The blue-haired pony’s distressed hazel orbs snapped from the gruesome wound adorning his trotter and locked onto his blade.  Flipping through the air like a gymnast sprouting a fresh set of wings was his crystal, inexplicably powerful blade. In the brief blink and you’ll miss it time period he was graciously granted to lay his eyes upon his beloved weapon, the reality of the move Sombra just made almost instantaneously crashed down upon him.  His grief-stricken retinas followed the acrobating dagger until it disappeared from his view. Despite his dominant limb being afflicted with the utmost grievous wound imaginable and his primary weapon being possibly miles behind him, his rage emerged victorious once more. In spite of his harrowing and grave circumstances, Platinum swore allegiance to the spirits of his soldiers to avenge them no matter the cost. A promise even death couldn’t force him to break. Not now, not ever. Platinum whipped his head, his scowl once again splashing over his features as his eyes practically bursting with flame met Sombra’s once more. His teeth were gritted both in rage, and in the unsympathetic pain that ravaged his nerves. Regardless of the reason, his jaw nearly exploded under the pressure nonetheless. The apex of his anger was here and now. To say he was ready to rip the “king’s” head from where it sat was an understatement. He was more than willing to go back in time and do it again, and again, and again.  Platinum left and unscathed hoof elevated above his head, every last droplet of strength funneling from his heavily damaged arm to the other. With all of his power ready for exertion like a family of chained-up starving dogs, the commander’s trotter crashed down onto his unaware and short-lived nose.  A rumbling, tumultuous crack resonated through the blue-haired pony’s ears as Sombra’s cartilage swiftly fell under the catastrophic blow. The sound that, any under normal circumstances, would be quick to flood Platinum with concern for whoever the victim may be. However, right then, the normally worrisome noise was almost immediately followed by an uncanny wave of delight. The momentous wallop, combined with the warm thick crimson that painted every inch of his hoof, made for an almost overwhelming glee to soar through him.  Granted, it was nothing in comparison to the possibly unspeakable horrors the monarch cast down onto his soldiers. But in the grand scheme of things, it was only the beginning to a much, much, more brutal beatdown of unearthly proportions. The colt could only imagine the anger and confusion drizzling onto his hammering, heaving heart, that threatened to vanquish his ribs with every beat.  Platinum lifted his now ichor-stained trotter from the king’s face, relishing in the mass amounts of tepid scarlet erupting from his once functioning nostrils. From having his nose snout caved in more times than he could count, the mustang knew for sure what the ruler he was straddling must be feeling. To say it sprayed gasoline on his roaring flame of pleasure would be a criminal understatement.  The ruby-red gore never ceased its constant exploding from the monarch’s most certainly destroyed muzzle. Everything from his freshly vandalized upper lip to the very end of his razor-sharp chin, nothing was spared from the merciless onslaught of the blood geyser. His ashen face, formerly blemishless and devoid of even a hint of an imperfection, was utterly disgraced. The carmine-colored tips of his canines were now fully splashed with his own bodily fluids, making his cuspids look as though they were carved from a cerise gem.  In truth, it was not the raw and remorseless vengeance Platinum had been longing for ever since the world-shattering revelation. It was however a savage, cruel, ferocious beginning to kick off Sombra’s own personal hell. With every blow that connected and every last drop of crimson that fell, he was marching one step closer to his untimely end. That was for certain. In spite of Platinum’s blistering fury tugging it’s strings once more, ready to unshackle and ravage the monarch, Sombra shut it all down. It was a move that the commander never even considered to be a viable way to terminate his assault. He never would’ve guessed in a million years that the sovereign's blinding, imposing wall of pride would allow him to do what he did. Yet, the reality being displayed before his very eyes lacked any sign of a lie or any evidence this was all a ruse.  “Enough of this!” Sombra’s booming voice, previously intimidating and capable of striking fear in the blink of an eye, became nasally and pitiful. However, none of those adjectives were anywhere near to describing the menacing, bubbling cloud of magic that swallowed his vermillion horn.  Needless to say, Platinum’s scorching heart’s desire for a bloody and drawn out revenge would have to wait. The blast of raw energy that fulminated mere inches from his widened, utterly shocked eyes took no prisoners. More importantly, it lacked even a fragment of anything that could be considered mercy. An eerily accurate depiction of the unicorn it belonged to.  BOOM! Before the commander could even process the sight that abruptly dawned without a sliver of a warning, Platinum found himself easily a mile away from the battered unicorn. His freshly ignited vexation knew no bounds when it came to releasing its might onto the stallion. It was nothing short of a limitless outburst, the very same thing that Platinum just so happened to be on the receiving end of.  Now, lying on his stinging back in a deep trench of mud his body created as it skidded against the soil was the mustang. The ceiling of the dome he couldn’t summon the strength to look away from blurred and faded in and out of vision, going from a green and purple fuzzy blob to darkness sporadically. His face felt as though every inch of his head had been plunged into a thriving furnace. But, weirdly enough, he felt little to no injury on his flesh. Only the intense and nearly unbearable at times burning resided. Not good by any stretch of the imagination, but better by a landslide.  The vile stench of the sludge consuming his tail end traveled into his snout with every labored breath he struggled to draw, like trying to pull a boulder up a hill with a measly rope. Not impossible, but most certainly incredibly difficult. At the point he was at, merged with all of the beating and bludgeoning he suffered that day, he felt he was reaching his long awaited end. This was it for the world renowned leader of the Royal Guard. An unceremonious conclusion to the otherwise wild, thrill-packed life of Platinum Wing. Left to die by his sworn adversary, slowly being swallowed by the bitter ooze while the malador nearly ending his life with each strained puff of oxygen.  The finale of the commander’s vehement existence was here and now. The curtain slowly dragged, taking its sweet time to reveal the stairway to the heavens above just beyond the veil. As much as Platinum wanted to keep his ironclad grip on whatever strands of life remained inside him and secure Celestia’s safety, he knew his demise was soon to come. Before he would even realize what had happened, death would claim him. It was only a matter of time. Whether it be seconds, minutes, maybe even hours, it was going to happen. All Platinum had left to his name was time and a legacy, time that was briskly slipping from his hooves.  The blue-haired pony’s head fell, the last ounce of strength occupying his aching skull snuffed. His cheek, already stained dark green from the previous muck onslaught, met the mire once more. The ill-omened reunion was accompanied by an almost unseeable pinpoint of light in his otherwise pitch-black scenario.  His sword stood jutting from the earth just barely a few inches away from him. The upper half of the vibrant crystal blade sat embedded into the dirt, while its lower counterpart along with the hilt remained unscathed. While the sight of his highly adored weapon sent sparks of hope showering his heart, cessation almost immediately swarmed them. Even if he were to suddenly spring to his feet, which was clearly not going to happen anytime soon, and lock horns with Sombra once again, it would be his last time doing anything. The commander’s agony-wracked being was one good blow away from shattering like fine china. Engaging in a battle with the maniacal monarch spelled inevitable doom. In spite of his bedeviling doubt, if he were going to sacrifice his life for his dearest friend, he was more than aware that merely staring at the cutlass would solve nothing. He needed a miracle or some divine intervention to grant him the muscle to strike down the monarch and fast.  However, the one mammoth problem holding Platinum back from tearing Sombra to shreds was what little time he had left in Equestria. The events of the unforgiving, brutal war gradually began to take their toll on the commander’s body. At first, the only thing keeping the stallion alive was his undying fury and the adrenaline flowing through his veins. Now, his rage proved no match for the hooded skeleton with his glinting scythe in tow. Nothing could stop him, not even one of if not the strongest pony in Canterlot could hold a candle to.  Platinum Wing was as good as dead, his legacy forever engraved in the hearts of many until the end of time. The lionhearted actions of he and his guard would be eternally etched into the long, fierce history of the Royal Guard.  Even while staring his seemingly inescapable end right in the face, Platinum did what he had been known for all his life. He persisted. The Grim Reaper couldn’t stop him now, no one could. At that moment, with the spirits of his fearless comrades watching over him, some comforting some not, he made a decision. Possibly the biggest he had ever been forced to make in all of his years. King Sombra would not see the sun of tomorrow. He would not defeat the most powerful commander Canterlot had ever seen that easily. More importantly, he would pay for what he’s done. If the heavens above had their gates swung wide open for him in preparation, the angels waiting with open arms, he would fight like hell before he got there.  Platinum’s face hardened. His eyes gained the razor-sharp keenness they were known for. His grievously wounded hoof twitched, his body practically canceling out the lightning bolts of pain it sent rippling through his aching frame. The once snuffed raging fire that devoured his heart reignited. Adrenaline made its bittersweet reunion with Platinum’s veins. The commander knew it would be his very last time feeling the intoxicating rush the chemical cast down upon him. The sensation he loved. With every slam of his heart against his ribs and every pungent breeze that hit him, the god-like feeling the epinephrine graciously granted him reminded him of his goal.  His jaw clenched for what seemed like the thousandth time that day. Before another shockwave of agony could explode throughout his being, it was swiftly struck down. With ease, he swiveled his head to give himself an update on Sombra’s location and, just like he predicted, the worst outcome was being brought to reality. There he stood towering over a barely conscious and grimy Princess Celestia. Her horn tried in vain to produce even a sputter of the mighty golden magic that could easily save her life. Much to her dismay, similar to the rest of her trembling form, nothing came of it. The only sorry excuse for energy that left the alicorn were a nearly unseeable speckle of sun-yellow sparks. The only action the flicker managed to accomplish was casting a sinister, anger-inducing grin to the king’s lips.  “No!” Platinum breathed aloud, lacking the mental fortitude to keep his thoughts out of his voice. “No! I can’t die!” His voice, while still meager and fraile, got louder and louder. A far cry from the commanding, booming voice he was known all around Equestria for having, but an improvement from the pain-influenced silence nonetheless.  “Sombra…” The mustang growled through gritted teeth. Platinum’s elbow dug into the mud practically encasing him to flip his body onto his obliques. The pain that once roared with animosity at even the slightest movement was nowhere to be seen. “Sombra!” The stallion’s left and unharmed hoof came down onto the snow-white handle, the warm steel greeting his ironclad grip for the final time, ready for the grand finale. Beads of sludge dripped from the whetted edge and back into the vile mire they dawned from as Platinum tore it from its prison of muck.  He was beyond aware the adrenaline running alongside his bloodstream would not wait for the blue-haired pony to take action. It, like everything both living and not, had time that slipped from them whether they liked it or not. In the event that Platinum continued to take his sweet time pulling himself from his chamber of mud, the very thing keeping his heart beating would fade out of existence once more, leaving the commander at the mercy of his grave injuries.  No longer restricted by the shackles of agony, Platinum was given free reign over his movements once again without the fear of sending bolts of pain radiating through his bones. Just as quickly as his hooves initially left the ground from Sombra’s assault, they reunited. In spite of his swirling, vexed thunderstorm that swallowed every inch of his brain, Platinum’s mind felt clearer than ever.  He knew he was going to die soon. There was no avoiding it. If it was not the ruinous exhaustion that sent him six feet under, it would one hundred percent be at Sombra’s hooves, regardless of how abominable that fate would be. Instead of cowering in the face of his impending doom, he accepted it. He was well aware that day would be his last. With his newfound clarity, he was hellbent on going out with a bang and rescuing Celestia. With his psyche no longer plagued by the fright of death, he could allow himself to set his lazer focus on one pony and one pony alone. King Sombra.  Platinum shifted his beyond careworn globes to stab the monarch with his piercing scowl, tongues of flame belonging to his inferno of a heart licking his irises. Platinum’s hooves hit the ground like a squad of jackhammers, punching cavernous holes into the soil in his wake. Platinum was no stranger to rushing head first into battle knowing good and well his life was on the line. His charge to Sombra was no different. He felt the chilly yet still encouraging hooves of his soldiers’ phantasms breathing life into his scorching, fatigued legs.  Breath struggled to stay alive as it climbed the parched and desert-like walls of his throat. Ovoids of sweat gushed from his brow and just narrowly missed his honed eyes, leaving dark trails in his once vivacious tan skin. The last reserve of adrenaline drew closer to its end each time his hooves impacted the ground. His disheveled mess that could be easily confused with a rat's nest blew in the breeze that carried him, the pungent odor of war in tow.  Abruptly, only spraying fuel into the turbulent fire of determination in his chest, Sombra’s horn ignited. The deep purple bubbling cloud of magic that swallowed his crimson horn in a split second, a blaring warning sign that Platinum needed to pick up the pace and fast. If not, Celestia was surely doomed. A princess lying in the dirt, disappearing and reappearing out of the realm of unconsciousness, while being at the mercy of a remorseless killer didn’t go well whatsoever. If Celestia died, the entire battle would be in vain. Something he would not allow to happen while he was still able to change it. The ironclad muscles dressing his internal forelimbs were pushed to their utmost. Tendons threatened to split in two. His bones were teetering on the edge of crumbling to dust. His entire frame swayed on the border of collapsing before his very eyes. He could feel it. He had never pushed his body that far in all of his years. Even while being thrusted into the exceedingly violent situations imaginable in the most uncharted and dangerous lands known to man. While this warzone was not the most menacing place he had the misfortune of entering, it was the bloodiest by a longshot. Thanks entirely to the monarch whose life was nearing its untimely and well-deserved end.  Platinum’s much loved crystal cutlass fell from his hoof, left to impale the sludge it was released from just seconds before, quickly becoming nothing but a brightly colored blur in his peripheral. With all four of his war-torn hooves now shaking the earth with every hammering gallop, his destination was mere feet away from him.  This was the commander’s golden opportunity. His final chance for a fiery departure from the land of the living was staring him in the face, beckoning him to come forth and seize it. As the number of feet separating the Celestia’s impending doom and the personified justice dwindled hastily, his conclusive blaze of glory was practically in his hooves. The sphere of fervent energy spawning to life at the end of the sovereign’s horn slowly began to intensify. With each crucial moment of inaction that passed, the ball only became brighter. The distance continued to diminish. Feet melted into meters. Meters bled into minimal inches.  Platinum used every last bit and piece of strength he could possibly muster within the bounds of reality to cock his legs like a shotgun ready to fire. Much to Sombra’s ignorance, he launched with all of the brawn his aching form had to offer. Finally, at long, long last, Platinum could finally receive the incandescent exit he desired. Peace. That was the only feeling that conquered every other emotion within his once blazing core. The simmering, white-glowing vile concoction of wrath and loathing was nothing but a savage mark on the past. Sadness was history. Any senses of indignation, worry, or anything of the sort were ash. Tranquility reigned supreme. It was this cozy embrace of utter and absolute calm that he had longed for his entire life. Ever since the moment he first learned the concept and total inevitability of his demise, he had wondered when his final moment would come. Would it be peaceful? Would it be grotesque as he was sliced to ribbons in the heat of battle? Truthfully, no one alive had the answer for him. It was something the stallion had tossed and turned about for decades leading to this moment. Now, it was exactly what he had longed for all those years ago. He knew with the utmost certainty that he was going to die. Hopefully Sombra’s ruinous blast of pure magic would slay him quickly, no pain or suffering. Worst case scenario, the unicorn's magic would lay waste to his body and…he decided not to delve into it further.  Time began to move impossibly slow. The mustang managed to maneuver his body whilst he soared, the wind dragging the pungent odor of gore delivering a brutal assault to his senses all the while. Something he never fully got used to, and he would never get used to. With his heaving and burning chest now facing the homicidal maniac ponies managed to call a “king”, he was ready to soak up the brunt of…whatever magic he had in store to wipe Celestia off the face of the earth. In truth, Platinum was ever so slightly anxious about the fate that awaited him that he would have to come to grips with in mere moments. After all, he wouldn’t want his friend’s last memories off him to be just a pile of gore or a charred corpse. A loud boom casted destruction down onto the, almost, complete silence engulfing the dome. A very particular sound. A noise that brought droves of dread flocking en masse into Celestia’s throbbing heart. It was the indication of death. The warning that, at a moment no one could predict, another pony would die under the momentous wrath of the monarch. Platinum forbid the person Sombra unleashed his fury on to be his closest and longest lasting friend. As the lilac and virescent bolt of raw magic soared through the air like a bottle rocket of doom, the commander’s mind soon became a VHS player of memories. They all flashed before his very eyes, as if a broken TV had suddenly begun to flicker, allowing Platinum to review every action in his life for the very last time.  His first meeting with Celestia. Introducing himself to his Royal Guard. Bestowing the triumphant news to his parents. The echoes of all possible positive decisions he made in all of the years leading to this moment were utterly and absolutely beautiful. He lived a long and fulfilling life. In spite of how much he didn’t want it to end, just like every other pony who’s ever walked the earth, all this had to come to an end one way or another.  “The wave’s gotta crash.” His dad would always tell him. The green and purple arrow aimed dead-center at his chest was exactly that, a wave preparing to crash. When it finally hit, Platinum would finally find real unadulterated calmness of love. The toasty heat radiating from the blinding golden light of the heavens above, the gorgeous symphonies of trumpets welcoming him to his new and eternal home.   ‘Wait for me at the gates, comrades. Don’t fail me now.’ The projectile collided. His chestplate split. An explosion shook the brightly colored walls to their cores. Platinum’s vision was engulfed in a brilliant, unfathomable white light.  Then…silence.