Timed Ramblings

by Midnight herald

All-consuming

In the arctic darkness, far away from sunlight and warmth and love, he shivered and writhed and cursed the darkness and the cold that held him tight in wintry grasp. Days passed, black as night, years even, as time and thought slowly lost meaning. At some points, the ices shifted in their sleepy way, sending ripples and groans and screams that tore at his hearing and terrified him in the all-consuming black.

Words became useless as time wore on, until he could hardly remember what he had hidden from Time, why he lay in chains beneath the empty, lifeless ice. And ever, ever, the hungry darkness clawed and whispered and nibbled and crooned, seductive and harsh, not the least bit kind or soft. He sighed in sweet surrender and gave himself to the darkness, felt his body eaten into nothingness. He was no longer cold, he was no longer worried about being trapped inside the subzero gaol, for he could feel himself everywhere.

The dark was everywhere, and he was the dark. Mighty, unassailable, all-consuming. This spell would break soon, and victory would be his. He knew it, although he didn’t quite remember what he was fighting for. He thought hard as he nibbled at spells around him, wearing them down a little bit at a time. The spell broke, and he surged for the surface and watched in awe as the sun set. He hated the sun, but could not truly know why. Not anymore.

He called up a wild snowstorm, one to keep him safe from the sun’s burning eye. The cold embraced him like an old lover as he looked around, a feral grin spreading on the face he had formed.

“Crystals,” he murmured, wandering towards the odd warmth and light he felt far away. “Crystals,” he repeated, in wonder. He had remembered. Crystals! Slaves! His for the taking. For he was darkness, all-consuming, and he was everywhere. He would find that warmth and light, and he would make it his, conquer it. It would be his before the sun rose, and all would be darkness. He need not fear the angry sun. Tomorrow would be a great day, all pitch black and freezing. Like him.

Author's Note:

Prompt 345: The world is all darkness. Tomorrow will be pitch black.
Alternative Prompt: Tomorrow will be great day.

Maybe? went for both? Anyhow, have some Sombra.

Comments

[Silvernis]

I like the idea of Sombra being a bit fuzzy on why exactly he's fighting. It adds a bit of sympathetic meaning to his apparent mindlessness in the show.

[Mermaid]

Yeah, Sombra is someone you know was brilliant (the layered traps, taking over an entire empire) but at some point just lost it. I like your exploration of how he lost it.