//------------------------------//
// Hopeless 
// Story: A Glimmer of Hope 
// by Gordon Pasha 
//------------------------------//

The boiler room. Not a very appropriate name, Hope reflected. Maybe it was when there had been boilers here, giant, steamy things that reached ten or so stories in length. But all the boilers were gone. To say that their absence was notable was an understatement.

The pool room, for all its eeriness, had looked like a room, looked like a place ponies had once inhabited. This place did not. It was a cavern, shrouded in darkness. It was impossible, looking up, to see the ceiling. The same could be said for the floor. There were a few catwalks crisscrossing the area, and that was how Hope was able to get around. But otherwise, the walls just seemed to go up and down forever, appearing from blackness and disappearing back into it, as though they were the very first things to emerge from the void that preceded the beginning of the world. 

The walls themselves looked like cavern walls, not ship walls. They were jagged and broken and uneven. Hope thought she could even see some stalagmites and stalactites piercing the darkness here and there. Though, they could have just as easily been debris, or Hope’s imagination. It was impossible to tell. Easier to recognize were the large pipes that, every so often rose up from the darkness, twisting and twirling around the visible area before fading into darkness again. From whence they came, whither they were going, and their ultimate destiny; these were entirely unknown. 

And this place was vast. Even in the darkness that made every step seem the only thing left in existence, one could not help but feel overwhelmed and tiny. It was more massive than the pool room, more massive than the main hall. More massive, perhaps, that the great, glittering halls that were the pride of Canterlot Castle and the Crystal Palace. Hope had been in those halls. They were like the hives of ants compared to this.

The catwalks kept descending, and the darkness kept moving in. It seemed as though it got heavier as Hope went lower, crowding around her, trying to suffocate her, trying to snuff out the tiny light that came from her horn. That blue light barely even made a difference anymore. Where it had once illuminated the darkness, now it was just a flicker in it.

No wonder the Umbrum had chosen this place, Hope reflected. It was just like the Prison of Shadows, for those who felt that the Prison of Shadows was perhaps a little too cheerful and inviting.

Somewhere, Hope reminded herself, somewhere in this darkness were the Umbrum. They were aware of her. They were watching her. She knew that. They could strike at any moment. 

But they didn’t. They were giving no signs of their presence, unless the general atmosphere of gloom and despair was them and not what this room normally gave off. But Hope was pretty sure that it was what this room’s par for the course, Umbrum in residence or no.

Hope stopped. She had reached a platform, wide and spacious. She could not make out its size, exactly. It was far too dark for that. But the claustrophobic feeling of being on the narrow catwalks had gone. Wherever Hope pointed her light, she could see only the girded steel mesh stretching out until darkness reclaimed it. 

She took a step. The platform creaked and swayed, as though it was ready to collapse. And if it did, Hope thought, what would become of her? The floor below could be just a few feet or it could be a near-infinite chasm. She could not tell without making the trip herself. But she had the sense that it was not a fall most ponies could survive.

Hope closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. She saw no faces this time. Was it because she was finally doing something to right her mistakes? Or was it just the knowledge that there were far darker things outside than inside? Indeed, the darkness that came with closing her eyes seemed less than the darkness that came with opening them.

Hope looked upward. She could sense that the Umbrum were up there, circling her. There were no visible signs (nor visibility), but after a thousand years — or in spite of them, maybe — Hope felt she could at least know when Umbrum where nearby.

“I’m here,” she said. She had said it with as much force and vigor as possible without actually yelling. And yet, it seemed quiet and small in the desolate vastness.

And nothing happened. Hope looked around frantically, expecting the Umbrum to appear overhead. But they did not. She pointed her light to and fro, making zigzags and figure-eights in the chilly air. There was nothing.

Hope stopped herself and caught her breath. She forced herself to calm down. It was not easy. But it was necessary. Hope stood there, gathering herself, feeling her courage coming back. It had almost returned to her. Just another deep breath was needed. Just another quiet moment when she could close her eyes and refocus her center of gravity.

She never got it. A voice came, quietly, stealthily, seeming to tiptoe over her shoulder, digging upwards through the folds of her mane, and crawling into her ear. “Hope….”

Hope spun around and pointed the light in the direction of the voice. But she saw nothing.

Then, beside her, was another. “Empress….”

She jolted around, but again found nothing. And then, she felt a hoof sliding down her shoulder, and then another stroking her mane.

“Welcome home, Hope….” came the voice. It was barely audible, but Hope recognized it. Invidia.

“I came,” Hope said. “I came like you wanted. Please, show yourselves to me.”

And then, peals of laughter. A massive din of manic cackling was sent ringing and resounding throughout the vastness, magnified by the echoes produced as the sound waves bounced off of pipes and steel. And audible darkness was even worse, it turned out, than silent darkness.

“Hope, a thousand years and you still don’t know us!” Invidia taunted. “How can we show ourselves to you? This place is filled with darkness, and we are the darkness!”

Hope’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve seen your true forms, remember? You may hide in darkness, but you are not it.”

“I suppose you should know,” Invidia responded. “Being made up of so much darkness yourself.”

The laughter continued. From every direction, Hope felt their cloven hooves, pawing at her, tearing at her, scratching her. She kept turning and turning but could never make them out. Her light was becoming too weak. She could see nothing beyond her own eyes. And the laughter just kept getting louder.

“What’s the matter, Empress?” Luxuria said. “Does the presence of your subjects cause you so much discomfort?”

“After we found this palace, this palace for you,” said Invidia with a mocking laugh, “a palace more fitting than crystal, because darker.”

Then Invidia and Luxuria shouted together, a shout which shook the darkness. “All hail Radiant Hope, the Empress of Equestria!"

Their cackling was loud enough to cause the very platform itself to tremble.

Hope felt her knees begin to buckle under her. She felt ready to fall. But she steadied herself. She could not stop them from coming at her, or from mocking her, and they knew it. That’s why they were doing this. They knew it would disorient her, confuse her, frighten her. 

She could not let it. She could not stop them from doing it, but she could stop responding. She could, instead, do what she came here to do.

Let’s make this quick. Before I have a chance to think twice. Before I can start to regret....

So, as the hooves continued to run themselves over seemingly every inch of her body, Hope took her deep breath. She closed her eyes. When she opened them, they showed no fear, only resolve. 

Hope was ready. The Umbrum thought the fun was just beginning. But it was time for an end.  It was time for the spell. 

Her horn began to glow. And do more than glow. Sparks and even lightening shot forth. 

The Umbrum stopped their flitting about and froze in place. They all seemed shocked. And more than shocked. Afraid.

Guess I finally managed to do something they never expected, Hope thought.

“What are you doing, Empress?” Invidia asked, fear creeping into his voice.

“I’m making sure you never hurt another pony or take advantage of them like you took advantage of me,” Hope answered as her horn began to glow brighter.

Invidia flew in close. “But I thought we had a deal. You coming here alone was your agreement to our terms.”

“Yes, and I’m going to fulfill my end,” Hope said. “I give up my life and you don’t hurt the ponies I care about. Wasn’t that the ‘deal’?”

“Now you’re just twisting my words around,” Invidia said. “I could almost admire you for it, if I didn’t hate you so much.”

“Hate?” came Misericordia’s voice from the air above.

“Hate me? Maybe you fear me,” Hope said, her horn now quite luminous. “But isn’t it better for an Empress to be feared rather than loved?”

“Yes….” Invidia said, his voice suggesting the calculations that were going on in his mind. “It shows that maybe we were right to choose you all those years ago. Maybe you were never that innocent girl you pretended to be.”

“After everything that’s happened, I don’t even know what I am anymore,” Hope said. “But I know that I am the pony that will never let you hurt anypony ever again.”

“Oh, but Empress, there’s no need for all this,” Invidia said, his voice sounding deceptively sweet and kind. “I’m sure we can work out some sort of agreement.”

“I am not your Empress and you are not getting out of this.”

“Oh, but Hope, is that any way to talk to an old friend?”

Invidia started to change. It looked as though he gathered all of his darkness, all the smoke and haze, into himself. He looked to be collapsing in on himself. And all of his features, the gaunt, wicked face, the giant fly-like wings, the sharp hooves, were all rearranging themselves, like a giant Rubik’s cube. And when he was done, he had a new form.

Or rather an old form. He was how Hope remembered him. He was once again one of the little pixies that she had fallen in love with so many years ago.

He flew directly into Hope’s face and gave her a warm and winning smile. “Friend Hope, you could never hurt one of us, could you?”

He was slammed to the ground beneath Hope’s hoof. “Nice try,” she said.

Then, however, she felt her hoof vibrate. She felt a force forcing it up. Soon, her hoof was thrown up into the air and then so was she. Invidia had grown back to his full size in an instant from underneath her. The spell was broken and she was sent flying.

Hope felt herself careen through the air and through the darkness. She knew she was flying backward, but she did not know where. She was tumbling head over hooves, and every so often caught sight of the platform below. It seemed to be receding into the distance, though in this blackness, who could say for certain?

Hope knew she was no pegasus. If she was flying, eventually she would fall. If lucky, she would land on the platform or a catwalk — lucky is a relative term here, given it would still hurt quite a bit. If unlucky, she would not land upon anything but fall deep into the empty void below. And Hope did not relish the chance to discover what was ultimately at the bottom, however far down that may be.

Hope’s horn began to glow. She would have to teleport. She hated to do it. Though the Umbrum had stopped her from performing Starswirl’s spell the first time, she had only just begun, so she felt as though she still had enough energy for another try. Except it would require so much energy that even something as second-nature as teleportation could drain too much of what she had left. But the choice was between taking the risk or falling to her doom. Hope knew which one gave her a chance at beating the Umbrum.

She began to concentrate. A bubble began to form around her.

Before it got big enough to spirit her away, Hope felt herself come to a stop. It was a rough stop, to say the least. She was not prepared for it when she hit into something large with the entire force of her body. Luckily the large thing was soft, almost like....

Smoke?

Hope looked up. She was surrounded by smoke and fog, of a distinct blue-green color. Hope realized immediately what had happened.

“Put me down!” she demanded. “Put me down now!”

Misericordia looked confused. “Empress. Why do you seem so upset? You were in danger and I saved you.”

He flew slowly back toward the platform, making sure not to ride the air too roughly or rock too much.

“Why?” Hope asked. “Why did you say me?”

“That’s what we’d all like to know,” the grey-blue form of Luxuria said as she rose up to meet him.

“A little pain would have been good for her,” Invidia said, floating up as well. “It might teach her some respect after what she did to me.”

“But she is our Empress,” Misericordia protested as he laid Hope gently down on the platform. “We cannot hurt our Empress.”

“Can we just stop pretending she is our ruler?” Invidia said. “Can we finally stop? There are far more deserving creatures among the Umbrum to rule us, rather than this weak and pathetic crystal pony.”

“I always said Emperor Sombra should have chosen a mate from among his own kind,” Luxuria said, looking Hope up and down. “I mean, obviously, she’s not even good breeding stock.”

Hope felt a little offended by this, though she did not know what about this offended her, exactly. Being reduced to a foal factory, or not even being good at it.

“Well... um... she still has the Emperor,” Misericordia said. “If she had fallen off the edge, he would have gone with her. And then is plan would be for naught!”

Hope’s ears perked up. His plan? Sombra’s?

Invidia swooped down toward Hope. She braced herself for a frontal assault. She did not want to fire a blast or use a defensive spell — definitely too much energy — but she could at least brace for impact.

The impact never came. Invidia brought down his sharpened hoof and cut the strings around Hope’s neck. The pouch opened as it fell, and out came Sombra’s horn.

“Good point, Misericordia,” Invidia said. “I knew I kept you around for a reason.”

Sombra’s horn fell hard onto the iron grating and began to bounce. It went up and down several times and landed several feet away.

“Well, the Emperor’s not going to like that,” Luxuria said. “It’s not very dignified.”

“He’s trapped inside a horn and has been living inside a pouch like a set of marbles,” Invidia said. “I don’t think dignity comes into it anymore.”

Hope made a dash for the horn. She knew she could make it with teleporting. But again, she didn’t want to teleport. She would just have to bet on the ability of her own four hooves to outpace the Umbrum.

It was a bad bet. Invidia swooped down just as she was about to take the horn and snatched it from out of her grasp. He floated around her head and waved it in her face mockingly.

“What’s going on?” Hope shouted. “What do you want with me and Sombra?”

There was more horrendous Umbric cackling.

“You stupid girl,” Invidia said raising his free hoof as though to strike. “I should just kill you now and get it done with.”

“You can’t do that!” Misericordia yelled as he zoomed in between Invidia and Hope. “She’s our Empress!”

“Not this again.”

“And, I mean... um.... the Emperor needs her for his plans. He would not like her to die.”

Invidia drew back. “I was just having fun. I’m well-aware that the Emperor does not want his beloved Empress to die prematurely.”

“What does any of this have to do with Sombra?” Hope asked. “Where is he?”

The white balls of light which constituted Invidia’s eyes suddenly went out. Or rather, they seemed to have. But then Hope realized that Invidia had just closed them as he shook his head in disgust. He clearly really did find her stupid. Which was fine by her.

“He’s in the horn, you blockhead!” Invidia snapped.

“I used to feel him there,” Hope said. “All this way, I felt him. But when I got to the ship, I didn’t feel him.”

Invidia was growing greatly annoyed now. “Listen. I’ll try to explain it in simple terms. This whole ship is filled with dark energy now. It’s running through you, penetrating every inch and every pore of your insignificant little body–“

“I don’t think crystal ponies have pores. Our skin is too tough.”

“Would you just listen? There’s dark energy all around. You’re feeling it all the time, so of course you don’t feel anything special from the horn. The whole ship is a dark energy field now.”

“But I don’t understand,” Hope feigned. “How can that work? Shouldn’t I have felt more dark energy, not less?”

Invidia held his one hoof to his forehead, exasperated. “Okay, I’ll try this one more time. You did feel it, I’m sure. Didn’t you feel uneasy at all, or afraid? Didn’t the atmosphere feel rather unsettling? That was because— Hey!”

Invidia’s frustration caused him to largely forget about the horn. The hoof he was holding it with dropped down more toward a neutral position, putting the horn within Hope’s reach. While Invidia was busy yammering, Hope jumped and seized it in her mouth.

She landed on her hooves and tried to put some distance between herself and the Umbrum. She did not know what purpose they had for the horn, but she knew that it could not be good. She had to keep it from them.

But once again, she found that the Umbrum were faster in the air than she was on hoof. One of them — Hope didn’t get a chance to see, but she thought it was Luxuria based on the weight — hit her dead on in the side. Hope felt no cutting or clawing. Rather, it was something like a tackle. But it did the trick. Hope fell onto her side and the horn flew out of her mouth. It landed, once more, at a considerable distance.

“You guys really need to start pulling your weight,” Luxuria said from out of the darkness. “I can’t be overexerting myself like this all the time.”

“And who are you to lecture us on weight?” Invidia responded. 

“I am not fat, just big-foamed,” Luxuria shot back. “Come on, Misericordia, defend me! I made sure to only hurt your beloved Empress a little!”

“I don’t think I like the tone of this conversation,” Misericordia said.

From somewhere in the darkness, there was the sound of hoof connecting with head, followed by Misericordia going, “Ouch!”

But Hope was not really listening. The Umbrum bickering amongst themselves had given her a lucky break. Not to retrieve the horn. She figured that would just cause them to swoop down at her again. No, it gave her the chance to do something else. If she could do it quickly, while they were distracted, she could destroy them before they got the horn. She could end everything before it was too late.

Hope would use the spell again. And this time, she would not let herself get distracted. She would finish this.

She concentrated. A  light appeared. At first, it was small, just a spark at the tip of her horn. But then it spread downward until her whole horn was glowing a dull blue. But then the glow increased in luminosity, becoming brighter and brighter, bathing the platform around her in a cerulean ocean. Hope felt the magic building upside of her. Her horn sparked and crackled. Lightning appeared. The pressure was becoming greater and greater with each passing moment. Hope could not keep it inside any longer.

Her eyes began to glow. A massive beam of blue-white light burst forth from her head and shot upward, creating a massive pillar of fire and light that reached far into the endless darkness above. And from that pillar spread a smoky, swirling vortex. 

Post tenebras spero lucem.

Overwhelmed by waves of light, the darkness withdrew. She could see everything now. She could see the length of the platform and the catwalk that led to it, as well as the many catwalks running above and below. She could see the walls also, with pipes running up and down them and various nooks and crannies carved out along their sides. Somehow, seen like this, they did not seem so ominous or threatening.

Everything, it turned out, looked better in the light.

Except for the Umbrum, who looked as hideous as ever. But, while they may have not been paying attention thus far, the pillar of light was impossible for them to ignore.

“What’s she doing?” Luxuria asked.

“I don’t know, but it can’t be good,” Invidia answered.

Misericordia flew over and circled around her. “Empress, what are you doing? This does not look good! Empress!”

Hope ignored him. She would not break her concentration, not for any Umbrum. She only focused harder. The spell felt like it was coursing through every part of her body. More than that, it felt like it was tearing through every fiber of her being.

Just a little longer now, she thought, and then....

And then? No, Hope couldn’t think about that now.

The vortex began to extend itself. The beginnings of a dome appeared and slowly began to lower around the general vicinity.

“Please, Empress, tell me what you are doing!” Misericordia pleaded.   

It was difficult to speak under the pressure, but Hope wanted the Umbrum to know. She wanted them to know just what was happening to them. After everything they had done, they had to know.

“I’m ending it,” she said, forcing the words out. “I’m ending everything. You, me, this whole messed up game you’ve been playing with me my whole life. It ends tonight.”

“But Empress, our games were never messed up. Remember the ones we used to play? During the picnics to the lake of sludge?”

“No more mind games!”

Hope’s vision was becoming blurry (an unfortunate side-effect of having light streaming directly out of your eyeballs) but she thought she saw this particular Umbrum coil up around himself. His long face seemed longer than usual. He looked.... Sad?

“Misericordia?” she asked. Her voice, while uncertain, contained a hint of tenderness. She did not know why she was concerned for an Umbrum of all ponies. But she was.

“Empress, do you hate me?” Misericordia asked, his voice low and perhaps even upset.

What do you think? That was what ran through Hope’s mind. However, she knew better, even in her current state, than to say it out loud. 

Instead, she asked, “Don’t you hate me?”

“Hate you? How can I hate you? You are my Empress.”

It was getting increasingly hard to speak. But Hope had a point to make. “I am not your Empress. I am nopony’s Empress and nopony’s princess. Everypony keeps trying to make me into something I’m not, but I’m not either of those things.”

“No!” Misericordia responded. “You are my Empress forever and I love you!”

To be loved by an Umbrum. What a strange notion, Hope thought. On the other hoof, Sombra loved her, or at least he had once. But still, Hope did not know what to make of it. He sounded genuine, but Hope had been fooled by the Umbrum before.

She could not take the chance again. This Umbrum could just be trying to distract her. She could not let that happen. She had to focus on the spell.

“Empress, Empress, do not do this!” Misericordia shouted in alarm. “You will kill yourself! I do not mind dying for you, but I do not want to see my Empress die! Please!”

“You’re pathetic,” Invidia said as he came flying toward Misericordia. He slammed into him with enough force to send Misericordia spinning into the distance.

“What an idiot,” Luxuria said as she joined Invidia.

Invidia nodded in agreement. “He was never like the rest of us, anyway.”

They then turned their attention to Hope.

“We really should stop her,” Luxuria said. “One of us should go into there and get her.”

“Be my guest,” Invidia responded.

“What? I’m the one who brought her down before. And I’m still exhausted from it!”

“I was the one who stopped this spell last time. And I got enough of a static shock from it.”

“Then why do you want me to do it? I’ll probably get fried!”

“Because, it was your idea and—“ Invidia smacked Luxuria’s back with his hoof, sending her flying into the vortex. “-you’re expendable!”

Luxuria sped into the vortex and then sped back the other way, landing just below Invidia. Her whole body sizzled with electricity.

“This tingling actually feels kind-of good,” she said woozily.

Hope could see Invidia pause and just float there, his hoof to his chin. She knew he was considering his next move. But she couldn’t let him get to her. She had to finish the spell. Nothing could be allowed to stop her now.

Finally, Invidia floated over. He did not try to enter the vortex. Rather, he started to revolve around it, his eyes locked on the pony in its center.

“Hope, what are you doing?” he cooed. “Don’t you want to save your friends?”

Hope ignored him.

Luxuria picked herself up. She seemed ready to complain, but a sharp look from Invidia silenced her. Instead, she joined him and also began to orbit the vortex.

“She can’t save her friends,” she said playfully. “She’s never been any good at that. Everypony she cares about ends up badly.” 

“I for one would not want to get close to her!” said Invidia. “I probably would not outlast the week.”

“What do you expect?” said Luxuria. “The only thing she’s capable of is causing pain and suffering. Just ask our Emperor.”

Hope bit her lip. She knew what they were doing and she could not allow them to get to her. Her energy levels were falling. That must mean that the spell was reaching its climax.

Invidia continued, “What do you really think you’re going to achieve? This won’t atone for what you’ve done. But we gave you a way to fix things.”

Both Umbrum got closer, circling Hope so closely that she could feel them as they passed.

“You could have saved everypony you cared about,” Luxuria said.

“You could have saved everypony you failed to save before,” said Invidia.

Luxuria let out a sinister, piercing laugh. “You could even have saved Norneigh."

“What?” She added, as Invidia stopped circling to glare at here. “Okay, okay, let me correct that…. You could have saved yourself.”

“Shut up! Shut up! I’m not listening to you anymore!” Hope shouted. The dome had nearly descended fully. The pressure was growing far too intense. It was the last thing she would be able to say, she knew.

Not famous last words, were they? Well, nothing I can do about it now.

But the message landed. The Umbrum ceased to orbit. The vortex grew wider, forcing them back. As they regrouped a short distance away, they seemed to be in conference.

“Do you think we should do it?” she thought she heard Luxuria say. “Without Misericordia?”

“We don’t need him,” Invidia seemed to respond. “It’ll work without him. I just hope the Emperor does not get too angry.”

“I think he’s cute when he’s angry,” Luxuria said.

Hope could see Invidia smacking Luxuria with his hoof, followed by her audible, “Ouch!”

“Let’s just get to work,” he said.

The Umbrum began to move. Hope was curious as to what they were doing. But she could not worry about that. She was protected within the vortex. That was obvious now. They might try to distract her again, but nothing would keep her from completing the spell.

Wait, are they going for Sombra’s horn?

Indeed, they were. Invidia and Luxuria took up position, one on each side of the horn. Their white eyes began to glow even whiter.

Hope was worried now. She did not know what they were doing. She wanted to shout out, to scream, to yell at them to stop. But that would have required breaking concentration.

Sharp, narrow beams of light shot out from the Umbrum’s eyes and connected with the horn. The dim and pale light enveloped it fully. The horn began to rise up, suspended in the air.

Except, Hope quickly realized to her horror, the horn was not being suspended. 

No, it had risen because a dark mass had risen beneath it. The mass grew and grew. It expanded until its height was roughly equal to that of a particularly tall stallion. Its bulk formed a shape vaguely like a stallion as well. Yet, somehow, it was nothing like a stallion at all.

Hope’s heart sunk. She did not know what they had done to the horn... to Sombra... but she knew it had to be bad. Hope wanted to move, to see what had happened, to try and stop them if stopping them was still possible.

But she remembered the spell. She remembered her concentration. She would not break it, not so close to completion. She would achieve her end, no matter what.

The dark form and the two Umbrum approached. Hope felt a pang of panic. But she would not let it move her. She couldn’t. Nothing they did would distract her.

“Hope, like we said, you could have saved the ponies you cared about,” Invidia said as he made way for the black shape.

“You could have saved everypony,” Luxuria added.

“But most of all—”

The shape spoke, “You could have saved me.”

In the light, Hope could see it clearly. Or, rather, she could see him.

Hope gasped.

The dome retracted rapidly. The vortex faded into a gentle wind. The beam launched upward from Hope’s horn into the darkness. Hope’s horn dimmed. There were no further sparks and no more lightning. The pressure was gone. Her concentration was gone.

“Sombra?” Hope said weakly.

King Sombra stepped more fully into her view. “Hello, Hope.”





The night wind seemed to become even chillier. Starlight Glimmer could not remember being so cold, and that included the time she had been hiking through those snow-covered mountains not too long ago. 

She forced herself forward. The streets of Las Pegasus were filled with locals out for a night on the town and tourists lost in revelry. It was crowded and it was loud. It was the perfect place for Starlight to blend in.

She cradled the scroll beside her chest and thought about her plan. Starlight just had to make it back to the hotel to collect some things and then she could leave Las Pegasus far behind. She would find a new city and a new hideout where she could rewrite the spell in peace. Then she would make her way to Ponyville, to that gaudy eyesore of a castle Twilight Sparkle lived in, and then she would make Twilight pay.

Starlight looked over her shoulder at the night sky in the direction she had come. She was surprised that it was all darkness. She had expected something by now. She was still too close for her comfort — not wanting to teleport away in case Twilight had already arrived with some magic sensors — and thus she figured she should have seen something of the explosion, or at least heard it.

But there had been nothing. Starlight had not given that other spell much notice, but from what she had seen, it should have acted much more quickly than it was. Was something wrong? Was Hope in trouble? Had she failed?

Starlight shook her head. It was none of her business. Not anymore. She had gotten what she wanted. Hope was not her concern.

Then she halted. Through her mind, the words, “We were never friends” echoed. Those had been some of the last words Hope would ever hear. They would be the last words she heard from her. The worst part was, they had been a lie.

Starlight looked around her at all the ponies, going about their normal lives. They were completely oblivious to the fact that anything was happening, that they were in danger in any way. But, just a few blocks distant, a pony they had probably never heard of and who they probably wouldn’t like very much if they had, a pony who was not of them and meant nothing to them, was trying to save all their lives. 

It was brave and it was noble. Starlight had always said Hope and she were not so different. But as Starlight eyed the scroll, she reflected that Hope was different. Hope was willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for these ponies. And Starlight wasn’t. 

Starlight began to move and picked up her pace. So what? She had more important things to do. Twilight Sparkle was the big enemy here and had to be taken down. Nopony saw that but Starlight herself. She was saving all these ponies too, in her own way.

Aren’t I? It was a stray thought in Starlight’s mind, and she tried to shake it off.

Starlight was now almost at a gallop, precariously pushing her way around all the other pedestrians. She had to move quickly, she knew. It was pure luck that the princesses hadn’t arrived yet. Starlight knew things would only get more difficult when they did. The whole city might end up in lockdown. And Starlight Glimmer wanted to deal with as little of that as she could mortally manage.

Too bad that time-travel spell needs so much work, she thought, or else I could fix all this right now.

Starlight continued on her way, roughly pushing several other ponies from her path and then ignoring them completely as they called out several obscene insults. She could only afford to focus on one thing; getting out of this city.

But then, in her mind, she saw an image of Radiant Hope. Hope, standing there, so serene, so accepting of her fate, and trying to talk sense into Starlight. She had done it out of care, out of compassion, out of friendship. She had not wanted Starlight to waste the life she was going to die to give her. 

And Starlight had gotten angry and shouted, “We’ve never been friends.” Starlight was used to lying. She had never been afraid to lie in service to a good cause. Or, at least, if she could tell herself it was for a good cause. But this was a lie she couldn’t’ tell lie to herself about. 

And it burned like a fire in the deepest reaches of her heart.

Starlight halted once more and looked back in the direction of the Empress of Equestria. She could not let those be the last words she ever said to Radiant Hope. 

Not if I can help it.

Starlight let out her frustration by giving the sidewalk a hard kick. 

I’m know I’m going to kick myself for this later.

Starlight Glimmer turned around. The wind blew over her, making her whole body feel like ice. 

She shook her head. She hesitated. Then, she steeled herself.

“It can’t be helped,” she said, fixing her eyes on the darkness ahead.

Starlight galloped back toward the Empress. Back toward the Umbrum. Back, though she did not know it, toward King Sombra. But most of all, back toward Radiant Hope. 	





Hope could only stare in disbelief. 

There was Sombra, standing right in front of her. He did not look like how she remembered him when last they met. True, he was about the same size and roughly the same height. His face also looked mostly the same, except his eyes were colored red rather than green. He was still the King Sombra who had terrified and tyrannized the Crystal Empire, despite the lack of crown, cloak, and armor. But the further she looked from his face, the hazier his body looked. It did not look quite solid and had an undefined quality, as though it was ceaselessly moving and shifting in myriad ways. It looked, indeed, as if his whole body was composed entirely of smoke, making him seem half-pony, half-Umbrum.

“Sombra,” Hope said, “I thought I lost you. At the Siege—”

“You did, Hope,” Sombra said coolly. 

“But you’re here. You’re alive!”

‘’If you call this living.”

Hope did not like the tone in Sombra’s voice. She had felt excitement and relief at seeing him again, but all happy feelings were being eroded by the chill she sensed in him.

As she looked at him, and he just stared at her, something strange occurred to Hope.

“How did they restore you? You didn’t need me to do it?”

“Does it bother you? I know how you need to be needed.”

“No, Sombra, I’m just confused. I thought only I could bring you back fully.” She looked to Invidia and Luxuria. “At least, that’s what they always told me.”

Sombra let out a cold, mirthless laugh. Hope did not like it. No, she hated it. That laugh chilled her to the bone.

“Do I look as I used to, Hope? Look carefully. Do you really think this body of mine is permanent? This cheap Umbric construction?” Sombra shook his forelegs, from which long wisps of smoke trailed and floated off. “It won’t last. It will fade quickly. Even more so given that only two of my three loyal Umbrum made it.”

“We did the best we could,” Luxuria pleaded.

“Yes,” Invidia said. “It was Misericordia who let you down. He was more interested in protecting her.”

“Silence!” Sombra commanded. “If saving Hope was Misericordia’s first priority, he is to be praised for it. At least one of you understood my wishes.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Invidia said. It was clear from his tone that he did not agree. But he held his tongue further.

Sombra approached Hope. Hope tensed up. She did not know why. He was her oldest friend. He was the only pony who ever really understood her. Wasn’t he?

“Hope, my dear,” he said. “I’ve missed you. Even though I was here the whole time, it still feels like my perspective from the inside of your little pouch was not the fullest.”

He brushed a hoof through her hair as he walked past. Hope shivered. His touch was like the frost.

“At least I got to lie beside your warm body,” he said.

Hope felt shivers running down her spine. She pulled her hair out of his grip.

“What’s the matter, my dear?” Sombra asked as he reached for her again. “Have you grown so cold to me in such a short time?”

Hope tilted her head just enough to avoid his touch. She looked him in the eyes, making sure to hold his gaze. She steadied herself to speak firm and clear.

“Sombra, what happened? I saw you die!”

“Death is a relative term, Hope.”

“But Princess Twilight–”

“I will give the little princess credit. She has grown much more powerful since our first encounter. I’ll have to better factor her abilities into my plans next time.”

Hope shook her head. It was too much to comprehend. “But Sombra, I had thought you were gone forever. I’ve been blaming myself the whole time. I thought I had failed to save you.”

Sombra began to walk away. Then, suddenly, he turned on her. Hope was taken aback by the look in his eye. He seemed upset, angry even. 

Angry? With me?

“You did fail, Hope,” Sombra said. “You brought me back only to stand by and let me be destroyed again.”

The cold shivers along Hope’s spine were nothing compared to the shard of ice which had just exploded in her heart.

“Sombra, no!” Hope responded. “I didn’t! I tried to save you! I really did!”

With the speed of smoke, Sombra was in Hope’s face, their muzzles almost touching. 

“How, Hope? How?” he snapped. “By giving me a lecture on destiny? By just expecting me to turn against my own people? Against my own nature?”

Hope felt tears forming in her eyes. “You had a choice, Sombra! I gave you a choice!”

“I had no choice!” he bellowed. “I am King Sombra, the lord of all monsters! The Emperor of the Umbrum!”

“But you could have been something else,” Hope pleaded, running the back of her hoof down Sombra’s cheek. “You could have been anything you wanted. You didn’t have to do what the Umbrum told you!”

Sombra looked down at her. There were no signs of softening in his features. “And what about the Crystal Heart? Do you remember the Heart, Hope? Do you remember how, the first time I looked into it, it showed me my destiny?”

“I keep telling you, Sombra, that was never your destiny.”

“It was, Hope. It was. The Heart showed me what I must become. The, when I looked into it the second time, it showed me that I had become what I was meant to be. I had finally fulfilled my destiny.”

“Destiny doesn’t exist, Sombra! How many times do I have to tell you that we make our own destiny?”

Sombra pulled back and put distance between them, leaving Hope with her hoof suspended in mid-air. “That was always your problem, Hope. You never could accept me for what I really am.”

Hope felt tears falling down her cheeks. She could not hold them back, not after that. But she did not feel herself crying; she had gone partially numb. 

And then, the ice in her heart was melt by newfound fire. Sombra had hurt her with his words. But she was not going to be his punching-bag.

She stormed up to him. “How dare you say that! How dare you say I never accepted you! After everything I did for you? After everything I gave up? How can you say that to me?”

Sombra did not respond. He did not even seem to register her words. He kept his back to Hope.

Hope started to calm down. She collected herself. She remembered how much she cared for Sombra. She put her hoof on his shoulder. “Sombra, I accepted you from the beginning. I’m the only pony who ever did. Sombra, I love you.”

“Don’t touch me!” 

Sombra turned quickly and smacked her hoof away with his own. The force of the blow was much greater than it needed to be. It forced Hope to tumble backwards and fall onto her side.

Sombra stood over her. “You didn’t accept me, Hope. You decided on the pony you wanted me to be, and you tried to force me to be something I wasn’t. Just like the Umbrum.” 

“Just like us, just like us,” Invidia and Luxuria chattered from up above.

Hope looked up at Sombra. “No, not like the Umbrum. I just wanted you to be able to make the choice.”

“And I made my choice,” Sombra said. “I made the choice to be what I was always meant to be.”

“No, Sombra, you don’t have to be that. Even now—”

“Silence!” Sombra stamped his hoof for emphasis, causing the mesh beneath Hope to vibrate and sway.

Hope’s jaw dropped and her eyes grew wide. Even in the darkest days of the Siege, Sombra had never used that tone with her before.

Sombra sneered. “You just wanted me to be a good pony.” The word good dripped with disgust. “You say you wanted me to make a choice, but how did you react when I made the wrong one. Where you happy for me?”

“How could I be happy for you?” Hope asked. “You got yourself blown up again.”

“That is not what I meant. Would you have been happy had I defeated Twilight and her friends? If I had conquered Equestria? If I had ruled as Emperor of monsters?”

Hope was silent.

“I thought not,” Sombra said as he walked away.

Hope was lost in thought. She thought back to her days as the lonely orphan whose only friends were in her head. She remembered the mysterious young colt whom she had befriended because he was the only real pony who would talk to her, and she was the only pony who would talk to him. She remembered growing up together and all the fun they had. 

She remembered the Crystal Faire. She remembered her excitement as the day approached. She remembered how that excitement had turned to agony when Sombra suffered his first attack. And then the year after, he had another. And the year after that. There was nothing more important in Hope’s life than getting Sombra to see the Crystal Faire. Was she disappointed that he never got to see it?

Of course. But was it for his sake... or mine?

Was that where the distance began to grow between them? 

Hope had expected so many things from Sombra. She had expected him to someday see the Faire. She had expected him to tell her everything, including what he saw in the Crystal Heart that fateful day. She had expected him to be happy for her when she got into the Royal Academy. And, throughout it all, she had expected him to love her. 

Was she wrong? Shouldn’t I be able to expect things from my friend? Doesn’t every friend deserve to get something back for all they give?

But then, it occurred to Hope, maybe it did not matter. Of course, she had expected things from him. Maybe she had been disappointed when those expectations weren’t fulfilled. But more than anything, she tried to love him. 

Not tried. I did love him.

And Sombra needed her love now more than ever.

Somewhere in the distance, there was the sound of something breaking. A shaft of light appeared. For a relative definition of light. It was a testament to the utter blackness in which they were engulfed that the darkness from the floor above was lighter in comparison. Hope wondered where on the upper floor that hole was, and where the small amount of purplish light was coming from.

In the distance, Invidia said, "It looks like the pool finally gave way. We were taking bets on it. I guess you lose, Luxuria."

“I always do,” Luxuria said. “Makes me question the point of trying.”

“Enough of this,” Sombra said, looking somewhere between bored and annoyed. “Tell me, Invidia, did you get what I asked for?”

“We got as much as we could,” Invidia responded. “It was very hard to find. After all, you really did a number on her.”

“A consequence of my younger days, when I was much too impulsive.” 

For once, the focus of Sombra and the Umbrum was off of Hope. But her focus had not left Sombra.

“You were more than that,” Hope called out. “You were... you are my best friend. And maybe you’re right. Maybe I didn’t  do enough to accept you or give the kind of love you needed. I made a lot of mistakes back then. But I’m here now. And I’m ready to accept you, whatever you are.”

Sombra looked over his shoulder. He smiled. “Well, it’s a start.”

“Just tell me what you need from me, and I’ll give it to you.”

Suddenly, Sombra was directly in front of her again. Hope took a few steps back. His smoky form allowed him to move faster than any normal pony ever should. It took some getting used to.

“So, you say you accept me but you still cower in fear?” Sombra said contemptuously.

“It’s not that,” Hope said gently. “You just startled me. I’m not afraid. I’m not afraid of what you are.”

“Here we are,” Invidia said behind them. 

Sombra turned his head. Hope looked past him to see Invidia and Luxuria dropping something onto the platform. Something large and heavy which vibrated loudly from the impact.

“What’s that?” Hope asked.

Sombra approached the Umbrum. “Careful, you oafs!” he scolded.

“What’s it matter?” Luxuria asked. “You already broke her heart once, didn’t you? Her heart, and everything else. You did a real number on her.”

“What did you say?”

“Nothing,” Luxuria said, quickly putting some distance between herself and Sombra. 

Sombra walked over picked up something from the pile. “We need her dark energy for the ceremony. Any more damage and we might scatter the energy further. I don’t want to take chances.”

Hope approached and looked over Sombra’s shoulder at what he was holding. It was a face, a long and beautiful face, twisted in a look of perpetual terror and frozen in stone.

Hope felt the numbness again. Except now, it was spreading throughout her body. “Is that....”

“Princess Amore,” Sombra responded. “Yes, Hope. It’s her. Or at least pieces of her.”

Hope gasped. “But where... where did you....”

“We found her, on the Emperor’s orders,” Invidia said. 

“On your orders?” Hope asked Sombra. “But how? You were just a horn after the Siege!”

Sombra did his best not to meet her gaze. “They were looking for Amore before that... unpleasantness, Hope. They’ve been looking almost from the moment I released them from the Prison of Shadows.”

“But why?”

“I was young and inexperienced when I turned Princess Amore to stone all those years ago. I used too much dark magic, more than I needed. Not only did it transform her, it turned her into a bastion of dark energy. Mere pieces of her body radiate incredible amounts of that energy. It is that energy which can be used to revive me. after you brought me back, I knew I needed a backup plan in case my body was destroyed again. So I selected three from amongst the Umbrum whom Rabia had recommended as competent. I sent them to seek out Amore’s remains and find a good locale to store them. If the time came, they would know what to do.”

Hope shook her head. “But I never knew about any of this. I was there. I was your Empress. Why did you never tell me?”

Sombra’s eyes met hers. His glare was ice-cold. “It’s simple, dear Hope. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t trust you.”

“How could you not trust me?”

“You did abandon me all those years ago. You led the two Princesses to destroy me.”

“And I brought you back! I gave up so much for you! I gave up the pony I was for you.”

Sombra turned to face her. “And so it’s all about you, Hope? Am I supposed to feel sorry because you didn’t get to be the pony you were meant to be?”

Hope grit her teeth. Her brow furled. Sombra could be so thick sometimes. This was especially true now. “No! I changed myself for you. I became a pony who did things I never thought I could do. And not in a good way. How is it that you still don’t trust me?”

“I want to trust you,” Sombra said, approaching her. “I want to believe that you’re worthy of my trust. That is why I wanted you here, as I use Princess Amore’s fragments to restore my body. Who knows, they may even make me more powerful than before. I want you to witness it, because I want to see if you can accept the pony I’ve become.”

Hope heard what he was saying. She understood. But there was one thing that stood out to her.

“You didn’t want me here so that I could bring back your body like I did before?”

Sombra seemed nonplused. “Twilight did her worst on me, Hope. The power of hate let her burn me worse than she had the first time. I don’t know if your power is even enough.”

Hope was firm. “I can do it.”

“But, Hope—”

“I can do it now. My power has been growing.”

“You could hurt yourself.”

“You know that has never been my concern.”

A small smile formed on Sombra’s lips. 

“But maybe I don’t trust you to do it,” he said. “After all, you do seem to have picked up a nasty habit of betraying people. The Crystal Empire, the Umbrum, your newfound friends. You betray everypony eventually.”

The words cut Hope like a dagger. She could not believe she was hearing them. Not from her best friend.  “Not you, Sombra. Never you. I did it all for you.”

Sombra’s voice rose to a fever-pitch. “You did betray me! You abandoned me for the Royal Academy! You brought the Royal Sisters to destroy me! You betray everyone! You destroy everyone! You are a monster, Hope!”

“No, no, I’m not!” Hope practically screamed. “Please, Sombra, don’t say that! Not to me! Sombra, please!”

After that outburst, Hope calmed down. She was silent for a moment. 

Finally, she said, “What do I have to do to prove it to you?”

Sombra’s smile grew larger. He approached Hope and put a hoof on her shoulder. Hope supposed it was meant to be kind and reassuring, but there was force and pressure to it. Hope could feel his hoof digging into her skin. And even skin of crystal could not hold it back.

Sombra leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Would you die for me?”

Hope took a few steps back. “Sombra, what are you asking me to do?”

“Answer the question, Hope,” Sombra said. “Would you die for me?”

“I’ve lived for you,” Hope answered. “Wasn’t that enough?”

Sombra nodded ruefully. “I suppose I was right all along. You don’t love me enough to die for me.” 

He began to walk back toward the Umbrum. “Prepare the ritual,” he said. “It’s a shame that this much dark energy will make me a being of darkness forever. But Radiant Hope wasn’t willing to save me.”

Hope ran after him. “Sombra, what are you talking about? I don’t understand. How can I save you?”

“I am a being of dark energy, Hope,” Sombra said without looking at her. “But not completely, because of what the Umbrum did when they locked away my powers. Even the unlocking of my powers did not fundamentally destroy the part of me which had become a pony. But that part is dying. Once I take in Princess Amore’s dark energy, it will be gone.”

Hope frowned. “And where do I come in?”

“You have the healing power. And as you say, it’s becoming stronger.”

“It is. I could–”

“You still won’t be strong enough, Hope. Even just a modified version of what you used to do for me will not work this time. You’d have to give it your all.”

Hope was confused. “But I did give my all. Every time.”

Sombra’s brows raised. “Did you, though?”

The emotional whiplash was getting to be too much for Hope. “Why are you saying this, Sombra? You know I did.”

Sombra brought his face close into Hope’s, so that they were nose to nose. “But didn’t some part of you hold back? Some small part of you?”

“What? No! Never!”

“The part of you that wanted to live, perhaps?”

Hope’s eyes grew wide. “You mean, you’re saying–”

“You could have cured me a long time ago, Hope,” Sombra said, “but you never really wanted to. Maybe you enjoyed having me stay dependent on you.”

“You know that’s not true.”

“Then maybe you never wanted to sacrifice the one thing more important to you than me. Your life.”

Hope thought it over. “You mean... you want me to die?”

“I’m just making a point. You say you’d do anything for me, but you wouldn’t do whatever you could to save me.”

Hope tried her best to stand up tall and hold Sombra’s gaze. “I’d give everything for you. I already have. If I had to trade my life for yours, I’d do it.”

Sombra smirked. “Well, do it then. Do whatever it takes to heal me.”

Hope took a step back. She braced herself, preparing herself for whatever it would take. Her horn began to glow. She would show Sombra. She would show him how much she cared.

Then, Hope looked up. She saw Misericordia floating around in the distance, too far for Sombra or the Umbrum to notice him, but enough for him to shake his head ‘no’ and for her to see it. 

This brought Hope back to herself. She bit her lip. Suddenly, her mind was filled with doubt. Not for how she felt about Sombra. Not for what she wanted to do for him. But there was something else holding her back.

Hope closed her eyes. At first she saw nothing. Nothing but darkness. Then she saw them. She forced herself to see them. 

One thousand, three hundred, and six.

Her eyes opened. The light from her horn disappeared.

“What are you waiting for?” Sombra asked.

“Promise me something,” Hope said. 

Sombra grew annoyed. “That’s not how it works, Hope. This isn’t a deal. You have to prove yourself to me. I have nothing to prove to you.”

“No, you don’t, Sombra,” Hope said. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to be something you’re not. But I do need you to promise me that you won’t release the Umbrum. If I’m risking my life for you, I have to know you won’t do what you did before. Please tell me you won’t release them!”

Sombra shook his head. “Poor Hope, you still haven’t accepted me. I have to fulfill my purpose.”

“Sombra, I do accept you. I do. But we hurt so many ponies last time. I can’t let you hurt any more. Not one more. I’ll do anything to heal you, but I won’t let other ponies get hurt.”

Sombra let out a cold little chuckle. He walked up to Hope and locked his horn with hers. “And what will you do if I refuse?”

Hope’s horn began to spark and release lightning. Her eyes filled with tears.

Sombra let out his harshest, cruelest, loudest laugh yet. “What, Hope? Are you going to use that spell to kill us all? Are you going to kill me?”

“Maybe this should end with you and me,” Hope said, her body shaking. “Just like it began.”

Sombra pushed at Hope’s horn with his. He flinched a little, but met no resistance. Hope broke the lock and took a few steps back. The sparks ceased.

She held her head in shame. “No. I can’t. Not to you.”

“Disappointing,” Sombra said, turning his back on her. He stomped his foot.

Before Hope knew it, she was up in the air. Luxuria and Invidia had each grabbed a foreleg and lifted her up. They held her tight. Hope could feel the pain as their gnarled hooves caused drops of blood to roll down toward her shoulders. She did not have the strength to resist, neither physical nor emotional.

“Put her down!” Misericordia screamed. “Leave the Empress alone!”

He swooped down at his two compatriots.

“No, Misericordia, don’t!” Hope shouted. “You’ll get hurt!”

Did she still care? About an Umbrum?

A dark beam sent Misericordia spiraling once more into the darkness. 

“I am your Emperor, fool!” Sombra shouted. Then, looking to the other two, he asked, “Why did Rabia ever recommend him?”

“Even the prettiest of Umbrum make mistakes,” Luxuria said.

Invidia added, “Rabia was never a great leader. No offense to your mother, sir.”

“I have no love for her,” Sombra said. “I am her lord, not her son.”

He signaled for the Umbrum to come down. They lowered, with Hope in their grasp, until they were close enough for Sombra to comfortably look up at and address her.

The Umbrum gripped Hope tighter than they had before. The bleeding increased. She thought they might have just avoided puncturing a major artery. She could not escape if she wanted to. But she did not even know if she wanted to. She did not know what she was supposed to do, for Sombra and for herself. Why was it always so hard?

She mentally kicked herself for not being able to go through with the spell.

I messed up. I failed again.

She wished she had one more chance to fix things, one more chance to use the spell. But she knew the result would be the same. She could never hurt Sombra. She had given up too much for him.

“Oh, my dear Hope,” Sombra said, “why can’t you stop failing me? Is it just who you are? Are you going to keep hurting me as long as you live?

“Sombra, please,” Hope said, her voice nearly a whisper, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“And yet you keep doing it. You keep putting other ponies above me, above us. And they’re the ones who do nothing but betray you. Then again, I suppose you deserve it. You don’t know how to do anything for others.”

These barbs were designed to hurt her. Hope knew that. She knew she should be immune to them by now. But she could not help it. Each verbal strike stung her heart harder than the last. 

“I don’t know what more I can do or say,” she said through tear-filled eyes. “I don’t know what more I can give. I can’t let you hurt ponies. Not anymore. But I’ll give you anything I have to give you. Anything. Everything.”

Sombra sneered and took a few steps back. “I’m sorry, Hope, but it’s too late for that.”

Hope thought. She tried to picture Sombra not as he was now, not as he was during the Siege, but as she first knew him. The goofy young colt she had been best friends with. The pony she had loved. She thought of the pain he had gone through, and of all she had done to try and save him.

And she thought of how she had failed. She had always failed. I couldn’t save you, she thought. I couldn’t save anyone.

Lailoken’s words sounded through her mind, “You can try to be better. But it’s not going to change who you are. Everypony who gets close to you ends up badly.”

And then, “You’re a monster.”

Maybe he was right. Maybe I am.

An idea came to Hope, an idea born of despair. She looked up at Sombra, long strands of mane-hair falling into her eyes. 

“Okay, Sombra,” she said quietly and calmly. “You asked me if I’d give up all I had for you. If I’d give my life.” 

She steadied and braced herself as much as she could within the Umbrum’s grip. “If I need to die, so be it. Maybe Equestria is better off without me. But if it will help you heal, I can live with dying. If you need to do it, go ahead, Sombra.”

Hope puffed out her chest as best she could. “Do what you have to do. Kill me.”

Sombra took a moment to look around at the darkness. He seemed almost amused. 

“Oh, Hope, you always draw the wrong conclusions. I can’t kill you. I love you too much.”

Hope felt nearly crushed under the weight of this whiplash. “I don’t understand. If you love me—”

Sombra approached her again. “I just wanted some proof that you loved me. That you loved me for me, not for what you wanted me to be. That I could trust you.”

“Yes, you can, Sombra!” Hope exclaimed with every last bit of feeling. “A thousand times yes!”

“That you’d put me above all other ponies.”

“I already do. Just because I don’t want to hurt ponies anymore, that doesn’t mean that’s changed!”

Sombra rolled his eyes. “I’ve had enough of this. I wish I could trust you. I wish I had your love and your loyalty. But I can never be sure now. Which means I have no choice.”

Turning his gaze from her, he asked, “Invidia, are Princess Amore’s fragments ready, do you think?”

“They’ve been simmering in this ship’s dark energy for a while now,” Invidia said. “They should be.”

“Excellent.” Sombra’s horn began to glow.

Hope looked on either side of her to see the Umbrum’s white eyes begin to glow as well. She was becoming increasingly anxious. “Sombra, what are you doing?”

Princess Amore’s fragments began to levitate and rotate around them. Each fragment emitted a unearthly purple glow.

Sombra gave her a long, sad look. “Oh, my dearest Hope, we’re both monsters. I’ve accepted what I am. I just need you to finally accept what you are....”

“What? What do you–”

Sombra launched a dark, oozy beam from his horn. At the same moment, the Umbrum also fired beams from their eyes. Hope had no time to brace herself. The first two hit her head on either side. Hope screamed. Then came the third beam, Sombra’s beam. The screaming grew worse.

“Don’t fight it, Hope,” Sombra said, his voice deceptively loving. “Just give in. Just give in and we can finally be together.”

All was fire. Hope’s brain, her whole body, her bones and her blood, all felt like they were erupting into flame. She felt herself screaming. And then she felt nothing at all. Nothing but the fire and the pain and the sensation of falling. Falling into darkness. A stinging, biting darkness that held her and would never let her go free. In a proper state of mind, she might have expected to land  at last upon the platform. But she was not in a proper state of mind and there was no platform.

She seemed to fall forever. And then there was nothing. No feeling, no pain, no thought. Nothing.

Radiant Hope was gone.





“Let her down, gently,” Sombra said.

His voice was softer and lighter. Excited even. He could not disguise his joy. But then, he did not even need to any more.

The Umbrum obeyed, dutifully lowering Hope to the grating. She did not move. She did not speak. She was limp in their hooves, with her head down and messy strands of hair covering her face. 

They let go of her and she fell onto her stomach. She just lied there, her head completely covered by her long hair, which spread out all over the platform. She looked different. The distinct texture and sheen of the crystal ponies was gone. Her coat and hair had become duller, most of their color having faded. She looked, indeed, a little more like Sombra himself.

The shards of Princess Amore lost their glow and fell to the ground. The light was gone. There was only darkness.

“Hope?” Sombra asked .

Hope did not respond. She did not even move.

Sombra grew concerned. He walked over to the pony prone on the platform. He gently laid his hoof on her shoulder.

“Hope?” he asked again, his voice wavering a little.

“Don’t call me Hope,” she said. Except, it was not quite her voice. It sounded like her voice, but it was different in an almost imperceptible way. It was harsher and rougher, with a scratching quality which grated upon the ears.

Or, at least, on the ears of anypony not an Umbrum. To Sombra’s ears, her voice was perfect.

“Don’t call me Hope,” she said again as she slowly rose into a sitting position. “There is no hope anymore.”

“Whatever you command, my dark Empress,” Sombra said.

He put his hoof to her head and gently brushed back her hair. Red eyes met his own. They were eyes red enough to perfectly match the red, red blood streaming down her forelegs. Hope’s face had been marked by the ritual. The area around those red eyes was white, making her face seem almost skull-like. Long black marks stretched downward from her eyes. They were the charred remains of Hope’s tears.

“How do I look?” she asked with a weak but sinister smile.

Sombra beamed. “Perfect, my love. Just perfect.”






What had become of Radiant Hope?


Read on.