• Published 13th Mar 2020
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Skeletor, Master of The Empire. - Hotel_Chicken

A monster was dethroned and a demon was thrusted into a position of power he never wanted. Now, the Displaced Lord Skeletor finds himself in the Frozen North of Equestria, fighting frigid temperatures and an evil king.

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Chapter 2. A Monster's Arrival.

The snow softly crunched under four sets of hooves as two enslaved guards went to find the strange creature their master ordered them to intercept.

The two enslaved guards trotted briskly towards the creature, their mental cries for rest going unheard by their bodies. Both of the slaves wore full black body armor, complete with helmets that covered their eyes and muzzles to make them less distinguishable; a cruel tactic to strip them even more of their individuality so that they could become just one of the many faceless drones that served King Sombra unwillingly.

Their will to fight their dark lord’s commands diminished greatly over time with each order. After being forced to do unspeakable acts to the Equestrian army and especially to their own citizens, they began to feel less motivated to take back their bodies. Even if they ceased actively fighting against the dark magic that used their bodies as puppets, they still felt the urge to beg for some semblance of mercy, to be allowed the ability to close their eyes so they wouldn’t have to witness their atrocities.

But their silent pleas were no use to the dark spells that enchanted their bodies.

Their hooves continued onwards to meet the strange creature their king saw, and they eventually found it lying face down in the snow not too far outside of the Crystal Empire. It was an odd bipedal creature in a long cloak that was decorated in a thin blanket of snow. One of its large claw-like appendages firmly grasped a long staff with a golden horned ram’s skull on it, while the other claw laid at his side flat against the snow.

Without much grace, the two enslaved guards lifted the creature by its large arms using their hooves and draped its arms over their withers to drag it to their king. As they did so, the creature’s limp hand dropped its large scepter into the snow next to the enslaved soldier on his right.

The guard quickly picked up the scepter with its hoof, unknowingly inviting the power inside into his own body. The power of the scepter flowed through him, bringing an uneasy sickness as it crawled into his mind. And for the first time in many years, Cannon Fodder blinked on his own.

A small sense of clarity washed over Cannon Fodder as his body moved forward. While his momentary glimpse at possible freedom wasn’t much, it was enough to spark some sense of curious hope inside of him as he glanced over at the other enslaved soldier.

Cannon Fodder had no idea who the pony under the armor was as it covered up their face and their flanks, preventing him from seeing the pony under the mask or the cutie mark on his sides. The stallion he had been walking with had a dull mustard coat of fur, complementary color to his own burgundy colored coat of fur.

Cannon Fodder’s eyes then glanced down at the unconscious creature they were dragging, taking in its form with an interested and concerned eye. It was larger than any of the minotaurs he had seen, standing somewhere between two to three ponies tall. He felt the cold and naked skin of the creature’s arms around his withers, its skin was colder than the white tundra they found it in, and Cannon Fodder cautiously wondered if the creature was already dead.

He prayed to the Great Weaver, Faust, that Sombra would be pleased if the creature was dead. While the idea of Sombra being happy created a pit of anger inside Cannon Fodder’s stomach, the thought of King Sombra being upset that the creature was dead filled his body with an overwhelming sense of dread.

As his doubts and worries continued to fuel his overactive imagination, he and the other enslaved soldier made it to the border of the Empire. Cannon Fodder used his newly freed eyes to look at what remained of the once glorious Crystal Empire. Buildings made of crystal and beautiful stain-glass windows mixed into piles of rubble that littered the once magnificent streets of the fallen Empire. Several houses that belonged to dear friends of Cannon Fodder were reduced to nothing and the ones that still stood were on the brink of collapsing.

Cannon Fodder tried to remember what had happened before he woke up a few minutes ago. He remembered being forced to fight against the Equestrian soldiers of Dream Valley and he remembered seeing many of the other enslaved soldiers fall over almost lifelessly when… When something blue flew overhead. If Cannon Fodder had to guess, he’d say it was probably Princess Luna using sleep magic on the battlefield.

The small blue alicorn with an ethereal mane of stars was the first of the two sisters to make it to the Empire. Many of the thestral ponies that flew away from the kingdom when King Sombra started to purge the Empire had come back armed in lunar guard armor so they could defend themselves against their mind-controlled friends and neighbors.

The memory of Cannon Fodder throwing a spear into the neck of one of the thestral ponies wormed its way to the forefront of his mind, deep regret and shame filled his soul as he remembered slaying somepony who came to help him and the other slaves.

Cannon Fodder knew it wasn’t his fault, he knew that no matter how hard he struggled that he would have still been forced to throw that spear. But a deeper part of him still blamed himself, calling him a traitor and a coward for not even trying to fight against the dark magic anymore. Deep down, he had hoped that the thestrals would have shown him the mercy of death so he could have been freed from his invisible bonds, and he hated himself for still being alive when better stallions and mares were dead.

He had failed his Empire by not killing King Sombra when he still had control of his own body when the tyrant had slain the princess. He never thought the frail ruva would have done anything to Princess Amore, it was supposed to be a relaxing day court like any other day. The princess would have listened to her subjects’ many problems and requests and she, along with her council, would give their opinion on the matter.

Cannon Fodder failed to read the devious smile on King Sombra’s face as he entered the throne room, and he failed in his mission as head of the guard when he didn’t immediately jump in front of the princess. Cannon Fodder blamed himself for everything that happened, for the rise of Sombra, for the enslavement of the empire, for the complete purge of the ruva, and for what happened to the foals. Especially for what happened to the foals.

Cannon Fodder glanced back at the creature he and the other slave carried, it was yet another body to add onto the pile that he had inadvertently created. The small part of him that hoped Sombra wouldn’t be upset by the creature’s death changed its attitude and desperately hoped that the tyrant king would kill Cannon Fodder in a blind rage. Maybe then Cannon Fodder would find peace, peace in the depths of tartarus where he could at least shed tears for his atrocities, peace in a flaming inferno where he would suffer for being a failure.

King Sombra waited patiently in his throne room for the two nameless slaves to bring Grogar’s possible disciple to him. His eyes wandered over to the now awake Emerald Secret standing next to his throne. Her raven-colored tail and mane were brushed back, allowing him to see her blank jade eyes looking at the throne room doors with a thousand-yard stare. A small smile crept onto King Sombra’s face as he looked at the crystal mare’s emerald-colored coat, it stood out like a crowned jewel against the blue and white interior of the throne room.

As his eyes danced over Emerald Secret’s body, the throne room doors opened to reveal the two slaves he sent out carrying the body of the creature he saw in the scrying orb. King Sombra rose from his throne to approach the unconscious creature, igniting his horn in the purple and green bubbling aura of his magic to lift the creature’s hood.

King Sombra was surprised by the odd yellow primate skull that was hidden under the navy-blue cloak. He remembered that the Demon Lord despised necromancy and wondered if the old goat had changed his opinion on the matter. Grogar had always made living creatures with his magic, using the souls of ponies and other sentient creatures to craft monsters like kirin, hippogriffs, and chimeras. The old goat had sworn off using his magic to only bring something partially to life, stating that a partial life was a complete waste of one.

King Sombra looked at the golden horned ram staff that the slave with a crimson coat held in his hoof. The dark magic that radiated from the scepter was almost overwhelming and King Sombra briefly wondered if that was actually Grogar’s skull on the scepter. He dispelled that thought as quickly as it arrived however and returned his eyes to the blue-skinned and furless creature.

King Sombra eyed the unconscious creature with a wearier and more intrigued expression. The creature in front of him had some semblance of power, but nothing compared to Grogar. Still, it could have been a great asset to King Sombra, all it would need was the proper motivation.

King Sombra decided to ignite his horn in a brilliant shade of red as he placed a spell on the creature in front of him. He planned to learn of the creature’s origins by stepping into its mind, allowing him to see if it was one of Grogar’s creations and, if it wasn’t, he would break the creature using its greatest fears. Having an intimidating monster by his side would be a great weapon to use against the sisters, after all, if he didn’t know what the creature was then the odds were that the sisters didn’t either, and they wouldn’t be properly prepared to fight it off thus giving him an edge in their next battle.

Entering the creature’s mind was easier than what King Sombra expected. He had assumed that the creature would have had spells to protect his mind against intruders such as what King Sombra used to prevent Princess Luna from entering his mind and the minds of his slaves, but there was nothing to prevent King Sombra from entering the creature’s mind. It was possibly the easiest time he ever had to get into another being's mind since their conscious usually put up some form of a struggle to protect the victim's mind, but Sombra faced no difficulties. There was no guardian to pass, no embodiment of the mind for him to dominate, there wasn't even the impactful push of thoughts that would usually run through a pony's mind. Then again, the creature clearly wasn't a pony, and King Sombra had only ever entered the minds of ponies.

To King Sombra’s complete surprise, he found himself inside an ominously pitch black void instead of the vibrantly colored and chaotic mess that the Mind-Scape usually provided. No memories mixed with thoughts, there was no music from the past that merged with idle chatter, he couldn't even feel the creature's magical signature inside its mind.

"What the hell is this?" A high-pitched and nasally voice asked. King Sombra turned his head to stare at the blue creature that was standing upright on its hind legs with its back to the king as the front legs held the scepter close to its barrel. King Sombraknew that there was a different name for the upper limbs on a bipedal creature, but he didn't care enough to recall that memory at the moment.

“Oh fuck… I’m dead… Nononononono!” The creature began to panic as it looked in a random direction of the void, still not noticing the ruva standing behind it.

King Sombra arched an eyebrow as he watched the panicking creature. He could feel the fear bleeding off of it but he couldn’t see it take shape. No lingering nightmares came to plague the demon, and no foul memories came to taunt it.

Fear usually manifested as waves of energy that would flood the Mind-Scape, causing a slew of memories and random thoughts to collide and smash into each other adding another layer of chaos to the hectic Mind-Scape. Any form they took was often a cruel bastard of their past, a twisted phantom of their nightmares that could torment their thoughts to Sombra's will.

“Hello? Anybody out there?” He asked the seemingly infinite black void. An echo of his voice was the only response he received until King Sombra stepped forward to confront him.

The creature turned to King Sombra as his hooves impacted the grounds of the Mind-Scape. Once the creature saw the dark king of the Crystal Empire, his eye sockets surprisingly seemed to widen in horror at the king’s visage. He trembled before the last ruva of the Crystal Empire, falling onto his backside as he slowly tried to back away from the intimidating king. He unconsciously tightened his grip around his scepter as he crawled away from King Sombra, his once towering form reducing to a quivering mess of a demon.

King Sombra took great joy out of seeing the creature so terrified, allowing him to brush off his concerns about not seeing any physical constructs of fear in the creature’s mind.

“Ho-holy shit…. Are… Are y-you one of the f-f-four horsemen?” The creature stuttered out in what King Sombra assumed was faux fear.

King Sombra immediately stopped in his tracks as those words passed through the creature’s teeth and his eyes widened in an unbridled rage as the creature’s words rang out inside his head. King Sombra physically shook as he tried to restrain the anger inside of himself, attempting to control the fury that burned inside of what remained of his blackened soul. “You dare… You DARE call me a Whorse!?” He shouted at the creature.

King Sombra had been called many things, a tyrant, a monster, a demon, the spawn of Grogar and Death, but nopony had ever been bold enough to ever even think of calling him a prostitute. He didn’t understand what the creature implied about him being one of four prostitutes, but he didn’t care what the creature was implying. The blue-skinned beast had gravely insulted the king by calling him a sex worker, and King Sombra would make him pay for that.

Without any hesitation, King Sombra launched a conclusive blast of magic at the creature before it scrambled to its feet and dodged his attack. King Sombra shot another beam of magic from his horn at the blue-skinned monster and managed to strike its arm. The creature let loose a cry of pain as black crystals began to form on his right bicep, his arm losing most of its feeling as the dark crystals began to spread across his muscles.

As King Sombra galloped towards the creature to blast it at a closer range, the creature reacted by swinging its scepter at King Sombra in a fit of panic. King Sombra felt the golden horns of the ram skull dislocate his jaw as the scepter was cracked against his muzzle and was about to release another burst of magic before the creature swung the scepter again.

The monster brought down the scepter onto the stallion’s head repeatedly, bashing his head in with the ram’s skull several times as he wildly swung his scepter like a baseball bat. King Sombra was too dazed to launch another attack, and was only broken out of his daze by the immense pain of the ram skull shattering his horn. The pain didn’t last long, as the next swing from the creature shattered the king’s skull, causing him to fall lifelessly to the floor of the black void. Even as the darkness melted around the creature, and the king of the Crystal Empire returned to the real world, alive and well after being ejected from the monster's mind, the strange monster didn't stop its assault on King Sombra for even a moment.

The grotesque scepter was wrapped in a green aura and quickly flew to the open hand of the enraged beast, allowing him to continue his attack in the real world and kill King Sombra with a single blow. Each hit was accompanied by the sound of bones being crushed as the golden horns of the ram skull pulverized the king’s own skull. The man continued to viciously beat the King's corpse with his scepter, closing his invisible eyelids as he swung so he wouldn't have to look at the bloody mess of brains and flesh that decorated the floor.

The blood of a tyrant painted the walls of the throne room that fateful day, signaling the end of a tyrant's reign, and the beginning of a new chapter in history.

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