Spike's Shadow

by DraconequusMaximus

Battle of Trottingham (Part 2)

Chrysalis could feel the power of a dragon running through her veins, and it was incredible. Her body knew exactly how to do everything it was built to do. For all intents and purposes, she was a dragon, but she could just as easily be anything. Her power could be anything.

Chrysalis was positively high on Spike's overwhelming strength and powerful magic that felt like it could burn the world.

The real Spike charged her in an effort to give Sombra a bit more time to reconfigure himself.

Chrysalis however was surprisingly adept with her borrowed skin. She was able to dodge, and to counter with the same speed Spike had. The two of them began to grapple, claws entwined and hind-legs tensed to find purchase and keep the dragons rooted. Neither Spike was gaining too much ground on the other, but the original lacked the sheer number of allies. He could hear the buzzing getting closer, but Spike didn't dare look away from Chrysalis.

Chrysalis's horde of demonic offspring was drawing ever closer, being telepathically ordered to tip the scales in her favor no doubt.

But Sombra was having none of it.

With a great deal of effort, Sombra had pulled himself back together. More or less anyway. He was currently a jet black fog circling the titans as they clashed. Whatever Sombra was doing seemed to be working, as Chrysalis's focus was slipping. Spike was able to gain the upper hand during her moment of indecision, pushing Chrysalis over.

Spike resisted the urge to vomit and struck out with his instincts.

Spike dug his fangs into Chrysalis's collarbone, and there was a crackle of green energy. As soon as she tried to respond in kind, Spike's hand was clutching her throat. As much as he wanted to break her neck, he merely held Chrysalis back as he did whatever it was he was doing. She could feel her newfound power leaving her.

Slowly, but fast enough to be concerned.

Eventually, Chrysalis was feeling tired and even sleepy, but her instincts were still just as sharp as a dragon's.

Chrysalis's power spiked, and the air crackled with a violent charge. Green and purple electricity raced over Spike's body, wracking him with pain and forcing him to jerk away and let Chrysalis go. The energy had likewise struck out in arcs at Sombra, causing him to condense back into his normal shape.

Chrysalis took her brief moment of respite to clutch her wound and look around for her now missing army.

"What's going on?! What did you do to me?! Why can't I feel my children's thoughts?!" Chrysalis roared in a voice layered with her own and Spike's.

Sombra flared his spiritual power to erase the corrupt power causing him distress, though he acted as if he felt no pain. In fact he was smiling smugly. He found a small amount of satisfaction in seeing Chrysalis suffer, as she deserved far worse.

"I relocated your spawn to the shadow-realm. There's very little oxygen there, so I'd say they've only got a few minutes of life left. Though I'd say we've squashed about thirty percent of them before now. Were you fighting mortals they would have been terrifying foes, but we aren't so limited." Sombra started.

Spike then opened his maw to reveal blackened fangs and a green tongue.

"As for how drained you're feeling, I sunk these babies into you. My dark magic is really convenient. See, I'm strong as all get-out, but I've got really bad mileage. Like an older model airship. But if I deck out my teeth like this I can eat other people's mana and make it mine. Luna likes to call it Greedy-Teeth, but I'm still working out a name. You've got some nasty miasma going on there, but Sombra can fix it." Spike explained.

On cue, Sombra formed a shadowy hand and ripped the miasma Spike had ingested out of his body. In a powerful grip, Chrysalis saw it eradicated. The very same energy fueling her new form, so easily disposed of.

Chrysalis actually looked fearful, her eyes darting about for options.

When nothing came to mind she began to get desperate. She let the foreign instincts she had pasted onto her psyche alongside Spike's form overwrite her out of panic. Chrysalis had lost to the monstrous power she had stolen without understanding, and She became nothing but a mindless killing machine.

Using everything she had left in her stolen form, Chrysalis invoked all of Spike's magic she could muster. Her arms and neck materialized halo-like rings, and her fangs darkened until they were pitch black. The heat she was putting off would have seared the flesh off an average's pony's bones. The absurd power and rage was magnified by Dootha's miasma, which was escaping sickly green fissures appearing in Chrysalis's imitation body.

With the grace of a rabid dog, the demonic dragon-shaped Chrysalis lunged at her foes. She was a tremendous projectile of murderous intent, but she wasn't as threatening as she should have been. She was a cornered animal lashing out in a desperate attempt to survive.

Sombra relaxed his cohesion, and he bled onto Spike's arm.

Thanks to months and months of training they were in perfect sync.

Spike wasted no time in raising his darkly cloaked arm as Chrysalis rushed them, and by the time he swung Sombra had changed form. A colossal black blade large enough to cleave Chrysalis's copied form in half. Charged with Spike's mana and Sombra's spirit energy it encountered no resistance, as if it were gliding through air. The rampaging dragon had been sliced down the middle, but how far through was impossible to tell.

Spike had thought of the move over a month ago, but this was the first time they had tried it in serious combat. However a large portion of the Everfree would argue the technique was quite effective. As would the Hydra in Froggy Bottom Bog.

Sombra eagerly returned to his normal form, wishing to see the fruits of their labor.

They watched as the energy stopped flowing. The two halves of Chrysalis fell to the ground, shattering with a sound like breaking ceramic. It was revealed to be merely a shell, surrounding her like armor. The demonic changeling herself was still in the air, her wings beating out of sync in a vain attempt to keep her airborne. All they were really doing was slowing her descent.

Her chitin was slashed open, her body only barely holding itself together.

Chrysalis's insides were disturbingly similar to slimy green crab meat. Sombra was sure he could even see her brain and her heart. It was sickening, but Chrysalis was clearly in no condition to hurt anyone. Or do much of anything.

Sombra cautiously approached her as she slowly fell to Earth on broken wings, Spike standing by.

Chrysalis's left eye followed Sombra's movements, but she didn't seem able to do anything else.

"I was right... You are dangerous, and you certainly aren't a hero. A hero wouldn't do this to a person. You've killed my children and crippled my new body, I can't even move. You're a special kind of monster." Chrysalis wheezed.

To her surprise, Sombra formed a tendril of shadow and sharpened it into a smaller version of the blade that had devastated her moments before.

"You are absolutely correct. I am not a hero. I only fight evil to keep my loved ones safe. Which is why I'm going to kill you here and now. To protect my family, who you would like nothing more than to kill. I will lose no sleep putting you down, knowing what you and your bastard children did to all those innocents.

"You are an insect that spreads disease, and I am removing you from the garden beside my home. I am a necessary evil, and without evil there could be no good. No light without darkness. You however are an unnecessary evil, and you made the mistake of drawing the attention of your betters." Sombra ranted coldly.

He brought down the blade before Chrysalis could reply, but he was met with resistance.

Chrysalis's body had practically exploded into green crystal, which was too strong for Sombra to pierce.

"It may be green, but blood is blood!" A nauseatingly familiar voice shouted.

From the now empty tunnels a cloud of darkness erupted, green and purple miasma mixed in. Standing atop of it was Dirge, the mad pony, accompanied by a platoon of his zombified minions. The cloud itself deposited them on the ground, and then began to shrink.

Beznik, the shadow of Dootha, progenitor of all evils. It's form was unassuming, the perfect likeness of an ordinary black and white house-cat. Yet Sombra could feel it's power, deep and dark. Possibly even darker than Sombra's own power.

It was difficult to say.

Even Sombra's eyes couldn't differentiate between Beznik's powers. He was darkness and miasma in equal measure. While Dirge was a dangerous psychopath, Beznik was an abomination that had stalked the Earth's darkest corners since time immemorial. It was strong, it was smart, and it was unquestionably deadly.

"We've got business with our lady-friend. Unfortunately that requires her to be alive... Mostly. Too bad she got hungry... Drawing attention to herself like that... Ah well, at least we get to have another dance, eh?" Dirge taunted.

Spike wasted no time armoring himself with his light rings, getting into the game immediately.

Dirge likewise discarded his cloak, and several of his minions began liquefying. The bloody mess began flowing onto Dirge, and it hardened into a sharp-looking armor. It resembled parts of a scorpion, cobbled onto the mad pony.

"Let's start with a bang then, shall we?" Dirge cackled.

Sombra saw the remaining zombie ponies rush forward, but their movements were mechanical, and ever so predictable. They were swallowed up instantly in a wave of darkness and compressed into two spheres similar to the one Sombra had used on Chrysalis. She had been able to break free, but this time around he was fighting mere puppets.

There were muffled explosions inside the orbs of dark power, and Sombra pulled himself together immediately afterward.

"The same tricks won't work on me twice. I shall make you regret making me so powerful." Sombra assured Dirge.

Dirge's mania switched to a hardened look and his eyes burned more brightly with Dootha's defiled presence. Sombra had struck a nerve of some sort, and he wasn't afraid or concerned. His complete composure seemed to be unnerving Dirge, but there was more to it.

Sombra's eyes began to bleed black liquid as Dirge's power began rising.

Focusing, Sombra peered into Dirge once more and felt nauseous.

"Spike... Dootha is inside of Dirge. He's still reeling from the damage I inflicted upon him... But he's healing. We need to stop them now." Sombra practically growled.

Spike nodded, though he could feel the lump in his throat build from the increased stakes. They still needed a plan, and he couldn't use all his magics at once. Which meant he couldn't pull out the divine potential the spark from his bloodline afforded him, but Dootha was there in a terrible new body.

Spike wanted to flee, but he couldn't, he knew there would be untold destruction if he didn't do everything in his power to fight Dootha's forces.

"Spike? Are you ready?" Sombra shouted, snapping him back into reality.

Spike remembered he wasn't alone, and in that moment his confidence returned.

"Yeah... Let's do this. I'm on Blood-Bag, you get Shadow-Cat." Spike confirmed.

He didn't wait for a reply, Spike just dove at Dirge with his light-enhanced claws. Sombra accepted the proposal, and likewise began a stand-off with his feline counterpart. Dirge went straight for Spike's eyes with his crystallized appendages, as they were essentially the only guaranteed hit on the dragon. For someone as large as Spike the counter came at a speed Dirge thought impossible.

Spike punched the blood crystal to bits and the blow continued on through and hit Dirge squarely in the chest.

His armor protected him, but Dirge was sent sailing. Even as he stopped himself with his claw appendage he could feel the surge of light magic working on him. It hurt a great deal, but he could handle it without it showing. In fact he began to laugh as he shook off the pain.

"Light magic... Cute. But, two can play that game." Dirge laughed.

Spike barely noticed anything had happened until he saw the blood.

Spike kept his eye on Dirge, but dabbed at his forehead with a claw. Sure enough, there was blood. Not much, but Dirge had somehow wounded him from thirty yards away. Something was wrong, and he needed to figure it out immediately.

"Hmm. Bet you didn't catch that. I'll give you a demonstration." Dirge gloated.

Spike readied himself, but was caught unaware when a small cloud of dust appeared from the ground in front of him. It cleared quickly, and in it's place was a hole about as big and deep as a deck of cards. It's shape was odd, like a puzzle piece. The edges were singed, glowing with heat.

"I call it Puzzle Dissector. A concentrated laser-light cutting spell. It's connected to my implanted eye's line of sight. The closer I am, the stronger the cut. If a diamond were arm's length away I could slice through it, even if it were two-feet thick." Dirge gloated.

"You cut me at the weak-point where my scales and eyebrow meet? Cheap trick. You know you aren't getting through my hide, and you aren't killing me with paper-cuts." Spike retorted.

"No... But Sombra isn't made of scales, and I'm guessing he isn't too fond of light magic." Dirge pointed out.

With a mere glance, Dirge shot Sombra with his gaze.

Beznik saw the moment of weakness and struck. Sombra was suddenly missing a chunk of his being, and the surprise was all the time Beznik needed to break the stalemate. He leaped headlong into Sombra's wound and the two of them dissolved. Neither of them seemed able to gain footing on the other, and the battle was taken to a level where neither Spike nor Dirge could intervene.

Spike slashed the ground in anger, and a massive tremor of earth infused with light charged at Dirge.

To Spike's dismay, Dirge's constructed new blood-appendages, and he used them to jump over the attack. Dirge clearly knew Spike was stronger than him in a fair fight. But his superior maneuverability and flexible fighting style were easily making up for it. If Spike couldn't hit Dirge there was no way he could win.

Sombra's on his own... I can't get around this ass-hat. Spike sighed.

Spike disengaged Greedy-Teeth, not wanting his mouth anywhere near the psycho pony's blood magic. In a move that surprised Dirge, Spike recondensed his body into his more compact state. He kept the rings, but they shrunk to match him too.

The shrunken Spike surprised Dirge by being faster, and more lithe. His maneuverability was increased, but Dirge could see his strength wasn't at full any longer. Yet he was still strong enough to crush the bones of any pony like twigs, and Dirge needed to keep on his hooves.

Spike chose to go with his strengths, and took to the air.

Fire rained down upon Dirge, which he blocked with the shield-like claw of his armor, but found it a poor decision. The fire did not burn away at the armor. It froze the armor, making it brittle. Dirge was forced to abandon a large portion of it, leaving only a vest that protected his vitals. While he seemed angry, Dirge retained composure.

Dirge took his hoof in his mouth and bit into his wrist with artificially sharpened teeth.

He whipped the bleeding leg about, a whorl of blood hanging about the appendage. The blood was darker than the blood on Dirge's mouth, as if it were special. By the time Dirge seemed finished it was a bloated blob of dark crimson ichor. It shifted and changed until it was a recognizable shape.

A scythe.

Spike could smell the blood, and it was disturbingly similar to his own. It was Gavin's scythe, forged of blood and powerful forbidden magics in the hope of slaying Dootha. The blood of Spike's biological mother was it's primary component.

Spike must have changed expressions without realizing, because Dirge took notice.

"So you know what this is then? I've kept it safe for a thousand years. Permanently preserved first-blood dragon blood, strongest blood in the world, still malleable and so very powerful. Gavin was a fool to betray us for a love that ended so poorly for him... But this... This is art, and it is the sole reason I still respect him to this day." Dirge marveled.

Spike managed to keep his cool up until Dirge had the audacity to lick the blade.

Spike tried to swipe at Dirge with one hand, and to grab the scythe with the other. It was a dumb move. Impulsive and made without thinking about any sort of consequence. All he knew was that Dirge shouldn't have the scythe. He was defiling it just by touching it.

It was like a perverse mockery at the mother Spike never got to meet, and it set his own blood to boiling.

The neck of the scythe bent, and it dove it's blade right into Spike's arm. It wounded him like a normal sword would wound a pony. Spike was able to pulse light through it, but was forced to retreat. The scythe was unharmed, and Dirge was smug at drawing blood from Spike despite getting a minor shock through his treasured weapon.

Spike roared in pain as he cauterized his wound with fire magic.

"Smart. Don't want to give me more blood to work with." Dirge stated.

Spike had to stop and calm himself, trying to get a grip. He knew what needed doing, but he had never gone down that road before. Not all the way. It wasn't a thing he wanted to do either. Yet he was at the end of his rope, and Dootha was still weak. It needed to be done now.

Spike closed his eyes, and he let all his hangups and cares drift.

Then, he became an animal on the hunt.

His thoughts were second. Only the kill mattered, and the prey was soaked in blood. There was no losing him. He was fast, and he was flighty, but the overpowering scent of blood and death fueled the bestial instincts.

Dirge swung over and over, peppering in attacks with his puzzle-piece gaze. Yet Spike avoided each of the swings with renewed vigor, and the light attacks did next to nothing to Spike's scales. Spike was in another world, unsure if the struggle had been going on for mere minutes or several hours. He was in the hunt, and it was all that mattered.

The very instant Dirge miss-stepped or showed a single sign of weakness, Spike was upon him.

His tail caught Dirge's neck, and as soon as he began to flail about for breath Spike took hold of his front legs. The animal that had once been Spike took great pleasure in crushing them like pretzel sticks. Dirge was unable to even cry out, and the scythe fell to the wayside. Without his ability to focus he couldn't control the blood.

Spike could feel Dirge loose consciousness, and it took a very large amount of willpower to stop there.

If Dirge died, Dootha would be able to flee his body and the cycle would repeat.

Spike turned off the kill switch and let Dirge fall to the ground unconscious and broken. As a precaution, Spike swallowed his disgust and plucked Gavin's eye from his head. With a quick bit of magic he froze it, hoping to keep it viable. He supposed he'd give it back to Gavin, though that would be awkward.

Spike also took the scythe, though he had a lot of mixed feelings about it. As far as he was concerned, it was his. What to do with it would have to come later though.

About a hundred yards away, there was a literal typhoon of shdowy energy with occasional flashes of green and purple lightning lighting up the dark. Spike had no idea what to do if he actually could help. Sombra was admittedly the stronger of the them, at least by Spike's reckoning. If he was at a stalemate with Beznik, there wasn't anything that he could do.

Not without hurting both of them.

"Oh shit. I'm stupid." Spike groaned, slapping himself in the forehead.

Spike turned his power up to eleven, surging broiling mana hard enough for the energy-beings to take notice. The storm calmed a bit, as Sombra and Beznik could feel the light growing. Their antithesis was being wielded right in front of them, and their instincts wouldn't let them ignore it.

"I'm gonna blast the crap out of you. When I do, if you two don't split you're gonna fry. Sombra can take it, but I dunno about you, you mangy cat." Spike explained as he opened his maw.

As promised, Spike charged up a giant shot of white-fire. It wasn't as powerful as he could have made it, but Spike wanted to have power left over in case Sombra needed him. The rings in his mouth and around the base of his neck shattered, as they always did when he used his technique's ace.

The attack worked and they separated to avoid destruction, and Beznik reformed himself mid-air and landed on his feet.

Sombra reformed beside Spike, looking neutral. It was hard to say what had happened when they had no physical forms. Beznik seemed equally unchanged, and it was worrying.

"So... What's the damage? Who's stronger?" Spike had to ask after the stalemate of foul looks had gone on too long.

"Beznik is roughly twice my current power level, but I was holding him off well enough. If you can buy me a minute, I can power up and defeat him." Sombra asked of Spike.

"Sounds easy enough... A minute isn't that long." Spike replied uncertainly.

Spike saluted Sombra and gave him a quick pat on the rump before running after the fake feline.

Sombra ignored it, and he began meditating once more. His eyes closed, but the miasma continued to flow. Pink energy flowed high around him, and Spike was able to tell Sombra was finally ready to trust himself with his full power again. Or Sombra thought it was absolutely necessary.

Spike kept trying to attack the little monstrosity with his light-based attacks, but Beznik seemed able read his every move. Spike wasn't a master strategist, but he could tell Beznik was toying with him. He didn't even have a moment to dodge when Beznik struck.

Beznik's little paws suddenly changed in size to match Spike's arms, and batted him around. Beznik's shape-shifting didn't stop there, as it's body swelled up and became more defined. In the end Beznik was essentially a dragon sized tiger in tuxedo print, it's mouth full of purple miasma.

Beznik was a being of pure magic and miasma, so it's physical strength was proportionate to it's power. Meaning it was at least a match for Spike. He could even feel it's claws threatening to breach his scales. Spike tried bathing the cat-shaped fiend in flames, but it's miasma-filled innards soaked in the flames and either snuffed them out or absorbed them. Spike couldn't be sure.

Your flames burn bright for a hatchling, but to me you are little more than a plaything.

Ice shot up Spike's spine as he finally heard the monster speak. It was innocent and child-like, but it was also cold. Spike was able to shrug it off, but Beznik had already changed tactics. The miasma drifting from his mouth was trying to enter Spike's mouth and nostrils, but he was keeping diligent.

With a bit of air magic he could keep it from getting to him, but Beznik's attacks were relentless. His body was like Sombra's, it didn't tire out easily. Spike could feel his body bruising under his scales, but he didn't give in. He had enough stamina to hold on for a minute, even against an ageless horror.

But Beznik ceased his attacks when the air grew heavy.

Both Beznik and Spike looked back to see the tremendous energy generated by Sombra had shrunk, clinging close to his body. It was different than before. The air was equally heavy, but it was empty. Instead of the energy surging outward, it was like Sombra was taking the natural magic out of the environment.

Sombra's mane and tail were each formed into arms of shadow the deepest black possible. Staring at Sombra was like staring into a void, or even a black hole. He hadn't unleashed his power since the troll incident, and now Spike saw why. Spike could tell Sombra had achieved a new level through training.

Sombra had reforged himself entirely.

Spike almost felt like he was looking at an entirely different person. Power no longer rolled off of Sombra as it usually did. No energy escaped the almost gravitational pull of his dark presence. Despite the flow of his mane and now his hooves, not a single corona of power left.

Sombra was in total control.

Spike actually gasped when Sombra opened his eyes.

They were black with a ring of pink orbiting a pure white pupil. The miasma had likewise changed, now drained of all color. It was as if ghostly essence was bleeding out of Sombra's eyes. They seemed to view the world itself all at once with total indifference and emptiness.

The ultimate incarnation of darkness... Umbra.

Sombra's mouth hadn't moved, it was as though he projected his spirit through the air.

Beznik recoiled at the newfound presence, and Spike felt as though he were being cloaked in Sombra's energy protectively.

Beznik abandoned the form of a cat, taking on the shape of a gnarly looking nebula of dark energy. The battle was renewed, and Beznik seemed to want to be the one to set the pace. The chaotic storm of darkness and corruption blew right over Spike as if he was of no concern, rushing toward Sombra.

Sombra however did not move, but merely accepted the challenge.

With the swipe of his mane-based hand, the storm was rent asunder. Sombra's spirit energy corroded him from the gash in Beznik's form, and Sombra didn't relent. Up from Sombra's own shadow a flurry of smaller arms emerged and grabbed hold of every corner of the storm that was Beznik.

The dark stallion detached himself from his shadow and raised his newly crafted arms to the sky.

From about five feet away, Sombra prepared a new attack.

Spike realized it was the same ability Sombra had used against the troll. He was sheering particulate darkness off of his body into a devastating projectile attack. But this was on a much different scale. If the attack from then were a candle this attack was an inferno of dragon fire.

It took another full minute to complete, but Beznik was unable to flee or struggle out of Sombra's hold.

Spike... Minimum safe distance unknown. Take your spoils of war and fly. High and far, if at all possible. I can only maintain the ball's stability for another minute before it goes critical. Sombra cautioned.

Spike didn't hesitate to take Sombra's advice.

He took the eye and the scythe and used the majority of his remaining strength and magic to speed his escape.

By the time he looked back Spike saw black light coming from the now distant graveyard. He quickly summoned up a meager barrier spell with the very last of his mana. Then he watched as Trottingham vanished. A pillar of darkness of unknowable measure wiped the world away in that instant, the pure force breaking Spike's shield into countless pieces.

Then it was over.

The darkness that had exploded just as quickly imploded back in on itself. Spike's ears rung with a dull throb from the extremely loud devastation. It was like there was radio static hanging in the air, and the light seemed dimmer for a moment.

Spike flew back down to what he assumed to be the locale he had just left after he was sure everything was over.

The graveyard, and even the city in the distance were gone. Debris and earth had been crushed into a titanic crater, some random metal sticking out here and there. The air was still heavy, but tolerable. Spike began sliding down the wall of the crater, assuming Sombra was at the epicenter.

Close to the bottom, Spike found Dirge's mangled body had been flung up against Chrysalis's still mostly-entombed form. A portion of the prison of blood had cracked off, and both of her right legs had broken off with it. The criminal couple were half-embedded in the disturbed earth, and Spike wasn't sure if either of them were alive.

After making certain Dirge was still breathing he decided not to disturb them, lest he accidentally kill Dirge in his fragile state.

At the very center of the pit he found Sombra, who was looking very tired. He had returned to his normal appearance, and he seemed rather guilty. Though the remains had already been emptied from the graveyard, desecrating it was something that seemed to weigh on Sombra a bit.

Spike sat the scythe and eye down atop a mostly whole gravestone that had been overturned and slid down the slope of the crater until he was right beside his fiance'. The soil and much of the debris had been pulverized into what was basically sand. It was a smooth descent.

"Hey..." Spike said awkwardly as he stopped at the bottom of the pit.

Sombra got up and walked over to Spike, falling against him on purpose.

"That... May have been a bit much to do all at once. I'm extremely tired. I don't know if I can move properly. Is... Is the city alright?" Sombra asked in a tired voice laced with concern.

"Uh... No. I'm pretty sure aliens could have seen that. I barely got out of it. I'm amazed Chrysalis and Dirge didn't get shredded. I mean, Beznik got destroyed, right?" Spike asked as he pulled Sombra closer.

"Yes, I can no longer sense Beznik anywhere. As for those two... I may have shielded them. It would be problematic if Dirge died right now." Sombra responded, closing his eyes and enjoying Spike's warmth.

Sombra was silent for a moment until something occurred to him.

Sombra strained a bit in place, but Spike watched as his shadow stretched out across the dirt. When he pulled it back a pile of lifeless Demonlings made a resurgence. They had long since suffocated, and Sombra was understandably tired of holding onto them.

"Disgusting creatures. At the very least, these bodies might keep the common pony for blaming this fiasco on us." Sombra groaned, rubbing his temples.

"Yeah... Let's just wait for somebody to show up. We should at least have a platoon of guards on the way or something. Not like they could have missed that. *yawn*" Spike agreed.

They sat in silence waiting for the guards, out of mana and stamina.

They almost fell asleep, but a scraping sound alerted them, waking them from their state of pseudo-sleep. A Demonling was crawling across some nearby wreckage on the ground, headed for the stone slab where Spike had discarded his disturbing new possessions. Spike rose from his spot to crush the bug, but he was tired, injured, and slow.

The decrepit monster seemed to know it was being pursued, and it began viciously clawing the ground ahead of itself to hurry it's progress. Spike hurried as fast as his tired body could carry him, but the fiendish insectoid was as fast as a pony possessed. It was actually moving faster than it had before it's near death experience.

It grabbed hold of the eye and the scythe in it's jaws and continued it's mission tirelessly.

Sombra sensed something amiss, and called upon his power to peer into the souls of others even though it garnered him a tremendous headache in his sorry state.

"Spike! That thing is Beznik!" Sombra shouted.

Spike redoubled his efforts and managed to tear off one of it's hind-legs, but all it did was release a plume of miasma. Sombra was right, Beznik had survived and taken refuge in the husk of a Demonling. He was headed straight for Dirge and Chrysalis.

Spike was almost there, but he tripped on a mostly-buried statue in the rubble.

The possessed corpse made it to the broken Dirge and crystallized Chrysalis, and it's body began to dissolve. Beznik's darkness had been taken in the implosion caused by Sombra, now a writhing mass of miasma with only an occasional wisp of shadow. It fell over the defeated villains like a fog.

Sombra could barely move, and Spike was too late to stop the horrors from unfolding.

The crystal of blood Chrysalis had been encased in cracked, and the miasma seeped in. Dirge coughed himself awake as Beznik's miasma entered his body, his remaining eye burning bright with miasma. The stolen eye floated on the wisps of pure evil back into place in Dirge's head as the scythe liquefied and began flowing into the broken stallion.

The villains were obscured by Beznik's immaterial body, but Spike and Sombra could feel the power growing within the storm of corruption.

Soon it became hard to breathe, and even Sombra felt utterly dwarfed by the evil presence in the air.

Dootha was being resurrected in front of them, and they could only watch. They were drained of energy and stamina to the point a normal person would have passed out or gone into shock. Never had they felt so powerless. The greatest evil the world had ever known was waking up right in front their eyes and it was sickening.

The nauseating power just kept growing, and the world itself seemed to turn gray. It was like a blank-zone, but worse. The air was struck cold, and it permeated every atom of the area formerly known as Trottingham. It gripped at Spike's soul, and Sombra could feel his weakened body threatening to unravel itself.

Then everything stopped.

Everything was normal again, and the miasma had hardened, or cooled. There wasn't proper words for it, whatever it had done. Now they were staring at a massive egg-shaped bubble of semi-translucent purple and green shell. There was something inside, but it was obscured. The egg was twice the size of Spike at his largest, and whatever was inside nearly filled it.

Spike quickly realized he hadn't bothered to breathe for the entire spectacle's duration and inhaled.

The minor fluctuation in the air was enough to upset the egg, and a sound like breaking glass filled the air.

The eggshell rained down, and a terrifying creature was born into the world anew. It was shaped like a dragon, but not the same build as Spike. It was sleeker and sharper, and instead of four limbs and two wings it had two legs and two enormous wings like a pterodactyl. Upon it's head was a crown of many horns, and it's eyes were beyond description, changing like a sinister parody of a kaleidoscope.

It's flesh was black and sticky-looking, like tar. It's underbelly and extremities were blood-red crystal that seemed to be containing volatile insides floating about like a lava lamp within. It steamed as if it had just been cooked, and it's body was cracked in places. The revival didn't seem perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but Dootha was still terrifying to behold.

Dootha seemed a bit groggy, but he was smiling.

For the first time in eons, I can survey the world with my own eyes. It is so amazing what lesser lifeforms can accomplish with just the smallest of nudges. Through my will, they were able to build the body of a god. It almost makes me want to spare some of them.

Dootha's voice sent shivers down the spines of Spike and Sombra, and for all they knew everyone on Earth. It was disturbingly smooth and deep, with a hidden note of bitterness. As if it were the voice of a pot of black coffee. While by all rights it should have been an alluring tone, it felt wrong.

Everything about Dootha was wrong, and it almost clouded the mind to stare at him for an extended period of time.

"So... You're what all the fuss is about. Gotta say, I was expecting you to be bigger." Spike growled in a defensive stance.

Dootha leaned in and grinned down at Spike, utterly unfazed by the obvious hostility.

Ah... Nephew. I wonder... if I were to consume you, would your blood complete my new body?

Spike tried to summon up a blast of fire, but he had nothing left.

Sombra was practically crawling to Spike's aid, but there was no way he would make it in time.

But it seemed the heavens were on their side. Beams of pale moonlight and burning solar plasma hit Dootha in the chest as he opened his jaws to devour Spike. They pierced clean through him, but the wounds sealed seconds later. Spike, Sombra, and Dootha all looked up to see the angry faces of two demigoddess alicorns descending upon them.

Behind them was a contingent of Luna's guards, the toughest ponies Equestria had to offer.

Dootha seemed unimpressed, but scratched at his chest with the single talon of his right wing.

The feeble new gods, and their pitiful quadrupeds... Very well, I shall spare you lot for now. My body is still restoring itself, and my knowledge of the new magics is limited. Though the chances are slim, I could be bested under these conditions.

Dootha took wing, his tremendous shadow looming over everyone as they struggled to maintain grounded. His power or his presence momentarily blotted out the moon, but no one could really be certain. Even Luna wasn't able to accurately feel her connection to the heavenly body with Dootha's abominable aura pervading her senses.

Before Dootha was out of sight he turned back his head and shouted his parting words.

We shall all recover ourselves, and in one month's time we will settle things. Another war of dragons and deities. As it was in the beginning, so shall it be in the end.

Dootha vanished over the horizon in mere moments, and no one tried to stop him. It was abundantly clear that no one could stop him if they wanted to. Celestia began using her magic to soothe Spike's injuries, and Luna offered up her soldiers' shadows as fuel to help Sombra recover.

The pair briefed the royal sisters on everything that had transpired and then they allowed themselves to cry. Spike and Sombra had been keeping it bottled up, and Celestia and Luna were all too eager to mourn with them. There had been no victories today.

Only loss.

Tomorrow they would force themselves to inform the public, and the next day they would train anew. They would take all their guilt, rage, and sorrow and add it to the fire fueling their cause. Every waking moment would be spent keeping the world safe from Dootha, even if they had no earthly idea how to end him once and for all.

They had to win, or die trying.

Those were the only options left.

Author's Note:

Okay... So, my computer is pretty fucked. It's practically held together with duct tape and my fragile dreams. I can write, but drawing is a no-go. I'm going back to paper for the time being, as much as it pains me. I was still getting the hang of everything, and now... Ugh.

So yeah, been a really shitty few weeks for my artistic endeavors. With all that and Thanksgiving happening, I was forced to postpone this chapter for awhile. Super sorry, but there was literally nothing I could do about it. Fortunately I've had the art assets for this story done for awhile, so that's good, I guess.

Chapters will be kind of erratic from this point forward, but we don't have far to go. I'd say five chapters tops. So... I dunno, right around new year's? Regardless, thanks for sticking with me. Oh, and lemme know what you think of incomplete Dootha. He took awhile to design.

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[Malnovo]

The suspense is unbearable.