Chapter 1: You're Gonna Dredd It!
Judge Dredd patrolled Mega-City One with a vigilant eye and a sharp mind, always on the lookout for trouble. The morning had been quiet, for the most part. The urban sprawl of the endless miles of mostly ruined city blocks was an ever-present sight that Dredd had grown accustomed to in his decades in law enforcement. When he was just about to complete his patrol and return to headquarters, he received a call on his comm.
“Dredd, we have a situation near the Faust and Juggalo blocks down in Sector 18,” the Justice correspondent spoke into his ear from the receiver in his helmet.
Pressing a finger to the side of his helmet, Dredd asked, “Let me guess. Block war?”
“Correct. A real nasty one too. You better get there soon before we have too many civilian casualties on our hands.”
Like most blocks in the city, the two fighting for dominance were battling for strictly selfish reasons. Welfare for most of the blocks had been cut off due to ration depletions, and many blocks were desperate for supplies and reestablishment of wages that wouldn’t come for Grud knows when. These two city blocks in particular were without welfare, and already scraping crud off of walls just to survive. Both desperate, both unbelievably bored out of their minds, and both having a high cache of weapons from wars fought in the past just begging to be used.
So, on this day in the city, the block war between the Faust block and Juggalo block was started.
Block wars between these two blocks were pretty common, and the general consensus among the populace was the secret hope that both blocks would eventually kill each other off. And as Dredd rode down the streets in his Lawmaster motorcycle, he was secretly hoping for the same thing.
“Control, any word on the situation on the block war?” Dredd asked his helmet intercom. All traffic in his way wisely got out of the way when confronted with the ridiculously wide wheels and foreboding presence of the Lawmaster. That, along with the fact the automatic fire of machine guns from the seemingly impractical vehicle was something no citizen wanted to go up against.
“It seems the depletion of Fake-Faygo has hit the Juggalo block hard. They think the Faust block is hoarding the supplies of their soft drink, and have led an all-out siege on the block,” the Justice Department correspondent said into Dredd’s receiver.
Dredd scowled. “Are these accusations justified?”
“Fake-Faygo is reported to taste like piss and is made near radiation stricken areas of the city, leading to mutations and cancerous growth upon drinking it,” the correspondent answered. “So the chances of the Faust block actually drinking it, even in these welfare-stricken times, is highly unlikely.”
“Understood.”
“Do you need backup?”
Dredd spotted the block war currently in progresses as he crested the ridge of the road leading to the main street. The bright, colorful lights of the Faust block conflicted greatly with the demented graffiti and demonic markings of various clown images. Each block housed over fifty-thousand residents, and some never left the safety of their blocks since every care or need was provided within its walls. It was practically a town where every citizen was strictly loyal to their block’s asinine followings.
“Not needed,” Dredd replied. The Judges were cut down by half and spread as thin as it is ever since the latest disaster to befall the city. Besides, he felt like some alone time… with said alone time arresting perps and beating up anyone who didn’t comply.
The two blocks were in a state of severe disrepair, which was further enhanced by both sides throwing everything not nailed to the floor at the other block in a vain effort to bring it to the ground. Block residents fired guns, threw explosives, hocked loogies, and did other nefarious practices with their body parts and fluids on the opposing block. The dead lay in the streets, waiting to be brought to the recycling center for process. The injured cried out in pain, begging for release by enemies who were glad to give it. And throughout it all, Dredd calmly got off his bike, and marched to the teeming mass of fighting blocksters.
The Juggalo block residents had white and black painted faces to appease their supposed clown gods of some sort. That was Dredd’s best guess, anyhow. Though the clown makeup was probably tattooed instead of makeup. Makeup hadn’t been available since the ration cut offs.
The Faust block residents, in comparison, were the complete opposite of their psychotic clown neighbors. They wore bright and overly colorful shirts and designs depicting some strange, equine creatures they always seemed to be adamant about. A few had enough credits to afford the unnecessary but popular surgery to have a horn implanted on their forehead (as long as they don’t mind losing some bone from their foreleg). All of them had ridiculous dyed hair, at least in contrast to the other Mega-City One citizens.
As Dredd drew closer with his boot heels striking hard on the asphalt, he noticed that most of the block residents were men in their twenties to thirties with rampant neckbeards and obesity. Well, not as bad as a Fattie, or else they’d need a unicycle specifically for their overgrown bellies, but well enough on that path.
A Faust block resident had a Juggalo by the throat and was attempting to stab the clown-loving degenerate with a plastic horn toy. Without even batting an eye Dredd twisted the horn out of the perp’s hand while also twisting his wrist in a painful position, the bone snapping like a twig. Grabbing ahold both of their meaty necks, Dredd smacked their forehead together in a skull-cracking blow, the prosthetic horn from the Faust resident creating a gash on the white painted head of the Juggalo.
“Attention citizens! Block wars are strictly illegal according to the law! All persecutors here are sentenced to twenty years to an Iso-cube! Anyone who resists arrest gets an additional twenty years!” Dredd barked at the top of his lungs, his voice catching everyone’s attention even over the gunfire. You didn’t live in Mega-City One long enough until you’ve heard the voice of Dredd. A voice living very much up to its name. Resting the palm of his hand on the Lawgiver at his belt, Dredd stated, “Drop your weapons and put your hands above your heads.”
The citizens stopped what they were doing immediately. Only seconds ago killing each other and ripping the other’s throats out, now they were presented with the clearest and most dreaded sign of authority in the city. Right now Dredd was hugely outnumbered, yet none raised a weapon to him. Rather, many started to drop them.
Walking briskly into the crowd of Juggalos and Faust enthusiasts, he activated his communicator and said, “All hostiles in the area have been subdued with no deaths or provoked attacks. You can bring a cleanup squad in right away to clear the mess and take the criminals to their cubes.”
“Over and out, Dredd,” the correspondent said. “Cleanup should arrive in less than ten minutes.”
Dredd didn’t bother answering, instead lowering his hand as he made his way through the crowd of former block war wagers. They all look terrified to even stare him in the eyes, and the vast majority did everything in their power to avoid eye contact at all costs. Everyone except for one person in particular.
“Death to the ponyfags!” a exceptionally fat Juggalo bellowed, running right towards Dredd and the other Faust block and Juggalo block residents around him.
In a swift, practiced motion that he had done thousands of times before both in training and on the streets, Dredd drew his Lawgiver, aimed, and fired right in between the eyes of the crazed Juggalo. The detonator he was holding in his pudgy hands fell to the ground as the explosives wrapped around his wide girth were revealed to the crowd. As his blank eyes stared wistfully in the distance, the Juggalo fell like a ragdoll.
“Dredd, report says your weapon was fired. Anything wrong?” the correspondent asked.
“Freak tried to kill me and everyone here in a suicide bomb attempt. Took him out before he could,” Dredd explained into his comm as the dazed block residents began screaming and running for their lives, creating an empty space around the would be bomber.
“You know Chief Judge Hershey doesn’t want anymore perp deaths right now. We need to—”
“The creep tried to blow himself up. There wasn’t much of a chance for me to cuff him so Hershey could put him on a chain-gang to clean up this city,” Dredd interrupted with an extra bit of bitterness in his voice. “So my apologies to the Chief Judge.”
“You can apologize to me right now.”
Dredd’s ever-present frown deepened. “You’re on my comm.”
“I know. I hope you don’t mind,” Hershey responded. Both their tones were sharp enough to cut steel, though Hershey’s seemed weighed down, tired even. “We have an emergency at Justice HQ that needs your attention.”
Dredd looked around. Fleeing perps returned to their blocks, probably awaiting sentence from the Judges sure to arrive shortly after. Too many of them were fearful of leaving their blocks for too long, and any who did try to escape would be quickly hunted down and sentenced much harsher.
“This involves the Psi-Division. Chiefly, Judge Anderson. She has requested you specifically to report back to base.”
Already getting back on his Lawmaster and reving it up, Dredd asked, “Any reason why?”
“She said it was an emergency.” Hershey paused, the crackle of the comm crinkling in Dredd’s ear. “A… Death emergency.”
Dredd increased the speed on his lawmaster to its highest level, racing down the roads at a breakneck pace. “I’ll be right there.”
The burning torment of hellfire and damnation was, overall, an interesting experience. Your soul could feel pain, incredible amounts of pain, that never died down and that you never got used to. The agony itself was unspeakably wretched and never stopped for a precious second of rest. Every moment ticked by as if an eternity weighed it down, and no light of repentance or wish for a savior was ever answered.
All in all, Sidney De’Ath, better known by all as Judge Death, was not having a good time.
Looks like all those mass-murderings finally got the better of him after a random death by his hand led to said victim turning into an angel in heaven and then sending him directly to hell. Karma could be a real, heartless bitch.
Oh, he very well deserved eternal damnation for what he had done. Genocide, killing without regret, killing while evilly giggling, killing while out shopping for groceries, killing for free LUNCHEON VOUCHERS, and of course, jaywalking. He deserved hell for all these reasons and more, but he wasn’t having any of it.
“All crimesss are done by liiife! Their sssentence is deeeath! All life muust diiie!” Death screamed out from the pit of lava he was currently roasting in.
The demon over him sighed, then shoved his trident into Death’s face and pushed him deeper in the sweltering heat of the lava. “Man, this guy never shuts up,” he complained, digging a talon into his earlobe to remove something. “Death this and crime that and everything being a punishment. Sheesh, he just blabbers on and on and on.”
“Beeware my wraath, Dredd! For when I eeescape, you ssshall paaay!” Death gurgled from beneath the lava’s surface, his claw-like hands desperately trying to keep him afloat.
Truth be told, Death didn’t know how he’d escape this one. Every time he was trapped previously by that cursed Dredd and his cronies, he always managed to find a way to escape from the Judge’s clutches. Even on Deadworld, his home dimension where all life had been extinguished, he could find a way to sneak back to Mega-City One in his unfailing quest to kill all life in existence. But now he was in hell, apparently forever trapped for his wretched crimes. What a way to go…
“Excccuse usss, do you miiind?” twin voices asked behind the demon who was trying to shove a flailing Death back beneath the flames.
“Not until my coffee break,” the demon replied, not even bothering to look over his shoulder.
“Then alloww us to help.” The demon was pushed into the searing inferno of the lava pit, quickly sinking to the bottom as he cried out pathetically.
Death was dragged out from the pit using the trident still implanted in his face. With a hard yank it was removed, which would have probably have removed his eyeball if he was in his physical form. Instead, it hurt just enough for his fiendishly girly cry to reach a new octave.
“Oh, quit yyour wwhining!” the wretched sounding voices who saved Death said. “You ssstill havve a jooob to do!”
“Hhow ddare you cccommand Judge Death to do your biiidding!” Death replied with resentful fury, turning to the voices with a raised fist. He stopped immediately when he saw just who rescued him.
The Sisters of Death, Nausea and Phobia, stood before him in their decomposing and unappealing to the eyes presence. Even now the hags sent a shiver of disgust down Death’s spine (if he had one, that is). Nausea lived up to her name, her rotten body containing a face only pure evil could comprehend, along with her left shoulder being covered in a sea of gore covered tentacles that fought endlessly with the claws and eyeballs already situated there. Phobia shared her sister’s decomposed state, with a live scorpion on her right shoulder that tried to pinch the twin faces on Nausea’s left shoulder.
“We sshall cccommand yooou to do wwhatevver we pleease, Death!” Phobia hissed, her sister cackling beside her. “Wwe made you, afterall.”
Death took a step back and raised his claws. “I-I amm ssso terribly sorryy, my wreetched oness. Forggivve me for myy inssolence.”
“Forgivveness sshall be ggratned in death!” Nausea said, closing her claw into a fist. “Mega-City One and it’s inhhabitants ssshall pay for their criiimes!”
“Annd especcially Dredd!” Phobia added on. Both sisters laughed in demented glee, the mass of worms on Phobia’s left shoulder shaking so hard some fell into the lava pit.
“Exccellent!” Death rubbed his claws while his hideous smile spread like a plague on his face. “Soon Dredd annd the cityy shaall be judggged!”
“In due tiiime, Death.” Reaching into the wringgling and crawling heap of tentacles on her shoulder, Nausea withdrew a decaying human body that was particularly ripe. “Buuut firsst, wwe need yoou to take care of somethingg.”
Death jumped like a little schoolgirl and clapped his claws eagerly for the not-so-fresh corpse above him. “Yess, yeeeeeessss, I’ll do anythingg!”
“Before wwe judge Dredd and hisss city, another wworld isss in need for our judgemeeent,” Phobia said. Her smile could flay the skin off bone as she playfully tugged on the leg of the corpse. “Yyou shall be the one to bringg justicce for this world’s criiimes.”
“The livves of thisss world ssshall meet my judggement!” Death hissed, holding his claws out wide for his gift. “Theyy shall be punishhed for their criiimes of liffe!”
“That’s a ggood Judgge!” Nausea released the corpse, which Death eagerly enveloped with his spirit. As Death situated himself in the body of the deceased, Nausea wiggled her finger and hissed, “Be wwarned, Death, thhisss world isss like none other.”
“As longg as I hhave my lieutenants at myy ssside, their judggement will ccome!” Death said through his new mouth. His neck twisted left to right, the crack of his spine leading to more cracks and pops sounding from various parts of his putrid form. The fingers of the corpse’s hands elongated to end in razor sharp nails, while the rest of the body discolored to a mildewy green with a stench so rancid any cadaver would wrinkle their nose with just a whiff. Soon he was enveloped in a wreath of green flames, with his uniform stitching itself together in its place. A pterosaur appeared on his right shoulder, brooding and ready to hunt its next victim, while on his left shoulder and elbows bones formed out of thin air. Along with this were ridiculously large and seemingly impractical kneepads. At the same time his limbs shrunk down to a bony appearance, much like a skeletons. For the finishing touches, a Judge’s badge in the shape of a skull could clearly be seen on his chest with his name ‘Death’ for all to see, with a matching skull with bat wings as his belt buckle as well.
Touching his head where portcullis visor on his helmet was, Judge Death flashed his trademark demented smile that displayed each and every one of his putrescent teeth. “All shall be juudged!”
“Abooout that…” Phobia scratched her sunken cheek. “Theyy are currently traapped.”
“By the Judge Departmment?” Death asked. “I sshall bringg their headquartersss dowwn to the gground! Thhose inssolent foolsss shall be judgged!”
“Too late,” Nausea cut in. “It alreeady hhappened. Alongg wwith nintey percentt of the populationn of Mega-City One.”
“Ovver three hundredd million deeead!” Phobia licked her wrinkled lips and let out what can either be considered a giggle or hacking cough. “Ohh, howw deliccciousss that wasss!”
“I… missssed that?” Death went down on both knees and raised his fists to the heavens. “Ccurssse you, Dredd! Damnn yoou to—wait.” Death looked around. “Already hhere.”
“Donn’t worrry, Death, Dredd’s tiiime shall ccome. Onnly whenn thisss neww world fallsss,” Nausea said.
“It wwill only hhappen when I havve my Dark Judges!” Death replied while shaking his fist.
Phobia and Nausea shared a look. “Fffine, Death, wwe shall get themm for yyou. In the meantiiime, wwe have another job ffor yoou. A neww Dark Judge isss among usss.”
“Wwait, wait, isss thiss like that lasst one?” Death asked, snapping his fingers as he growled under his breath. “The one wwith the hair? He didn’t turrrn out ssso… well. He wass crazzy, truthfully, evven more thann the ussual.”
“Oh, don’t worryy, Death,” Phobia assured him.
“He isss from the wworld we wwant to meet your judggement,” Nausea added on, grinning like a demented jester. “Annd trussst usss, he wwill be perfect for the job.”
Death glared at the sisters, though the effort was lost since you couldn’t even see his face. After tapping his foot for a few moments and humming under his breath, he smiled and held out his claws. “Vvery well, Sisters of Death. Let meee meet thiss neww Judge.”
“He is in Deadworld, wwaiting fooor you,” Nausea said, trying her best to hold back a grin.
Nudging Phobia with her elbow, Phobia quickly nodded her head. “Yesss, hhe is. I think the twooo of you sshall gget along juuusst fiiine.”
Nausea lifted up her claw and pointed a skeleton finger next to Death, a portal appearing by his side. “Noww go, aand teeach thiss new Judge the truue meaningg of punissshment.”
Death saluted to the Sisters and said, “Wheen my lieutenants are reeeturned to meee, thiss world ssshall pay for it’s criiimes!” Death stepped through the portal, which quickly closed behind him.
“How longg before yooou think Death reeealizes?” Phobia asked her sister, who was hugging her sides holding back laughter.
“I givve him elevven minutess!” Nausea crackled, her sister quickly joining in.
“Spike, do you know where my book on transmutational magic is?” Twilight called out downstairs. She had already lifted up her bed with her magic and was hastily searching underneath it. “I could have sworn I brought it with me to bed last night.”
“Why do you even need a book about transmutational magic anyways?” Spike asked, dusting off the shelves of books on the library first floor.
Trotting downstairs, Twilight was already pulling books off the shelves and scanning their titles. “Remember when I accidentally made that orange bird a couple of months ago?”
Spike arched a brow and ceased his dusting. “You turned a bird orange?”
“No—well, yes.” Twilight shook her head and sighed. “I didn’t turn it into the color, I turned it into the fruit.”
“Ooh yeah.” Spike scratched his chin and tapped his foot. “I still don’t know what transmutational magic has to do with this.”
“Well, apparently that orange fruit-bird laid eggs not too long ago, and now there are more orange bird-fruits like it popping up all over the place.” Twilight groaned and quickened her book scanning pace. “This can be a major contribution to magic’s effects on living beings if I can only find the transmutational magic book to better understand it! But I can’t!”
“Twilight, don’t you think you have something more important to do than study some orange fruit-bird-fruit… thingy?” Spike asked, crossing his arms.
“Like what?” Twilight asked, turning to her assistant.
Spike pointed with a thumb over his shoulder, where on the other side of the room her friends were situated around a cake with candles already lit and presents aplenty stacked up around them.
“Oh… riiiiight. My birthday was today, wasn’t it?” Twilight blushed and scratched awkwardly at the back of her head. “Guess I kind of forgot.”
“Kind of? You’ve been so busy with your princes duties and work, you forget about everything all the time,” Dash said with a playful smirk.
Twilight approached her friends and was immediately assaulted in a spine-crunching hug from Pinkie Pie. “But not today, silly pony!"
“On one condition,” Twilight whispered, face turning a dark shade of blue. “You stop… squeezing my… lungs!”
“Okie dokie lokie!” Pinkie released Twilight, who sucked up air like a fish out of water. Attaching a party hat atop Twilight’s head, Pinkie clapped her hooves. “Oh goody, this is going to be the best party ever! We have cake and presents and music and dancing and even games!”
“Well, Pinkie, we know how excited ya get about parties,” Applejack chuckled, patting Pinkie on the back. “Might just wanna tone it down a wee bit. Well, at least until Twi can catch her breath.”
“Whoops!” Pinkie giggled. “I can do that.” Delicately placing Twilight back on her hooves, she bounced back towards the cake and plopped down on her rump, waiting patiently.
“Well… I really do wish I could say this was the first time this has happened…” Twilight scuffed at the floor with a forehoof, her cheeks tinged pink. “I mean, I know I tend to get caught up in my work a lot, but you think that this, of all things, should be something I’d remember.”
“Four times and counting,” Spike remarked from the pile of presents he was currently sorting through, pausing to give another one an experimental shake, listening to the rattle. “Back when she turned nine, she got so caught up in her book and was so quiet that Shining and her parents, considering the fact it was her birthday, thought she might’ve wandered off, and spent most of it out searching for her. Got half the guard in on it, too.”
Twilight facehoofed. “Spiiiiike!”
“‘The Great Canterlot Fillyhunt’, they called it.”
“SPIKE!” The dragon in question attempted to speak again, possibly to toss out another embarrassing tidbit, but quickly found that his lips seemed to be stuck together with a powerful magical force. Shooting Twilight an unimpressed glare, he returned to the business of rattling presents to the sounds of raucous laughter.
“Okay, okay. That’s enough of that, thank you very much, everypony.” Twilight shook her head, laughing to herself a little. “But on a more serious note… Thank you all so much, and I’m sorry. I know I can get wrapped up in things sometimes, and I really haven’t been paying as much attention to you all as I should… I’m glad I have such great friends to help me keep my hooves on the ground…” She paused a moment, glancing back towards her wings. “Well… metaphorically speaking, anyways.” She giggled. “I just—woah!”
For the second time in as many minutes, Twilight found herself lifted off the ground in a great big hug, but this time, Pinkie was joined by the rest of her friends, enveloping Twilight in a massive group hug. “Don’t you worry, Twi. That’s what friends are for.” Laughing, Twilight returned the hug as best she could.
“Oh, girls…”
As the display of affection was taking place, however, Spike found himself faced with a familiar sensation as his stomach gurgled.
Oh no…
Vaulting over the table with an agility born from panic, Spike rushed towards the group, gesturing furiously towards his mouth, trying to catch at least one of their attention before it was too late.
“Awww! Poor Spike! He wants a hug, too!” Pinkie noticed.
Spike facepalmed furiously. Finding himself swept up in the hug, Spike was powerless to stop what came next as the familiar rush of fire tried rushed up his throat, rebounded off his sealed lips, and forced its way up out through his nasal cavity in what could be considered the largest sneeze the group had ever seen.
Twenty minutes, multiple minor burned coats, and several dozen apologies later, Twilight finally finished extracting the slightly damp yet charred scroll from his nose, and unfurled it.
My Dearest Twilight Sparkle,
I would just like to take a moment to wish you a very happy birthday, and to tell you just how proud you make me each and every day. Thank you for all the wonderful moments you’ve given me over the years, and I hope that this year is just as good, if not better, than the last. Luna and I will try to make it to your party later in the day, so be sure to save a piece of cake (or five) for us in the meantime.
Your loving mentor,
Princess Celestia
Blinking back a tear, Twilight smiled. Her life had its ups and downs, that was for sure, but with her friends and mentor beside her, she felt that she could handle anything.
Of course, as luck would have it, she was dead wrong.
Chapter 2: Judges And No Jury
PJ Maybe stood outside his balcony on his luxury apartment overlooking the glorious view of Mega-City One in the shining sunrise. Nuclear fallout could still be seen clotting out the horizon in a green tinge in the distance, while down below Judges were breaking up a fight between a crazed junkie and a fattie. Judging by the screams from way down below, the fattie had trying to eat the junkie’s arm right now.
“Ah, what a fine morning,” Maybe reflected, stretching out his back and cracking his knuckles above his head. Adjusting his bathroom robe, he returned back into his living room and swaggered mirror in the center of the room. The apartment had the state of the art technology, most expensive furniture credits could buy, and only a few months ago was covered in the bodies of the mentally insane during the constant raids of the Days of Chaos that killed off about nine-tenths of the city’s population.
Glancing at himself in the glass tube housing the mutated jelly-crocodile specially made by the finest genetic scientists for his amusement. His wife’s money could pay for just about anything, and if his plan’s for the future went off without a hitch, they can also buy his way into Mayor of Mega-City One… again. Really, what he really wanted to try out was kill off the only candidates running against him in various skillful and playful ways. Though that would alert the Judges’ attention. Specifically, one Judge in particular.
“Dredd, Dredd, Dredd,” Maybe muttered to himself. He stared deep at his own reflection, and was overcome briefly of a sensation of not looking at himself, but at a photo. Grizzly beard, chiseled good looks and sharp eyes that cut through you like a stub gun through a crowd of rioters. But no, it was him. With a different face and everything. At this point, he had difficulty discerning his original face sometimes from the countless ones he stole from the people he murdered with the use of face changing machines. “You still haven’t caught me yet, Dredd. Not now, but maybe later. Hell, I know it’ll be later.”
Maybe turned away from the strange reflection of another man who was himself and stopped when a familiar voice whispered from the glass.
“Mayybe, wwe have cccome to judgge yooou.”
Maybe ran a hand through his carefully maintained hair and turned back to the glass to see a whole new and much more disturbing reflection in the glass tube. “Well, I damn near stommed myself. What do I owe the pleasure of the Sisters of Death visiting on such short notice?”
Phobia pushed the reflection of her sister out of the way. “Wwe are in need of the Dark Judgges you havve entrapped. Releeassse them to usss!”
Tapping his chin, Maybe asked, “Yes, yes, Dark Judges. Fear, Fire and… ooh, what was his name again? Morphis? Morpheus? Mortemis? Morty?”
“Mortis! We need themm for ouur ggrand plansss!” Nausea demanded, tugging Phobia’s sludge slicked hair until her sister got out of the way for her to speak. “Dooo not meet the wraath of ouur judgement! Yoou havve already seen it enouggh timesss from the punishhed!”
“Indeed I have. Now, if I can only remember where I placed them…” Maybe snapped his fingers as his trademark sly smile played out on his lips. Going to his wine cabinet on the side of the room, Maybe withdrew a bottle of wine which he inspected closer. “Good vintage, year 2093, quite impressive, ooh, and I see it’s been spiced with the exotic flavors of three Dark Judges.” Chuckling under his breath, Maybe turned to the reflections of Phobia and Nausea and shook the bottle. “And to think, I got it for less than a hundred credits. What a steal!”
“Yesss! Openn the bottle uppp and givve them to usss!” Phobia commanded in a rasp.
Maybe tapped the bottle in his hand a few times and tutted. “Now, now, I’ve been saving this bottle for a special occasion. Maybe for a fancy dinner with the misses, a dinner party with a few friends, or a celebratory toast over Dredd’s eventual death.” Maybe’s smile turned for the worse as a familiar shine appeared in his eyes. “And while the Sisters of Death paying me for a visit certainly is special, is it truly the occasion I was meant to have?”
“Wwhat do yoou mean, Mayybe?” Nausea asked, both sisters ceasing their struggling.
“Sweeten the deal for a me a bit. Give me something really worthwhile to consider your proposal. Now, do try to really wow me, because I’m very experienced in this field.” Maybe held his arms out wide, almost like he was presenting himself to an adoring crowd. “After all, in politics, you learn how to be original with a slice of clever and just a smidge of deviousness when you’re bribing. Of course, my bribery usually consisted of a tragic death and new political position to fill, but let’s see what you have to bring to the table.”
“Yoou mortal ffool! You dare tryy to make a deeal with the Sisstersss of Death?” Nausea said. She attempted to reach out and strangle Maybe herself, but her figmental image on the glass wouldn’t allow her. “Your deeeath shall be beyyond aggonizing and paiiinful! Tiiime will havve no meeaningg as your liffe slowlyy endsss in the longgest and slowwest wayy possible! Your criess of merccy shall be our mussic as wwe ussse your intestinesss like an insstrument! Your meeeager exisstence asss a criminal of liffe will meet the fullessst extent of our laww and judggement!”
“Death threats. A bit cliched, but you manage to keep yours quite original, I must say.” Maybe nodded his head, slowly walking to the wall. “Now, let me offer my response.” Snapping his fingers, a section of the wall collapse in a small square, leaving only darkness in its place. Holding the bottle of wine over the empty square, Maybe said, “Anything I insert here leads to an incinerator specially maybe to completely burn, obliterate, and totally break down to a molecular level anything I put in it. Now, I know how resilient the Dark Judges can be, but…” Maybe held the bottle by the neck with only his index finger and thumb. “Do you really want to risk my butter-fingers over something as precious as this?”
Phobia placed a claw over Nausea’s raised mouth and glared at Maybe. “Fiine, Maybe, wwe playy on your termsss. What do yoou dessire?”
“Oh, nothing at the moment. My life is pretty swell right now.” Maybe turned his back to the sisters. “Buuuut… that could change in the future.”
“Yoou wwish to join uss then?” Phobia asked, still holding Nausea’s lips sealed.
“Oh, no, I prefer not to live the rest of eternity in a rotted corpse.” Maybe dusted off his shoulder and shrugged. “Just not the most appealing way of obtaining immortality for myself. Plus, I’m just not too adamant on the whole ‘The iss life, the ssentence iss death’ notion you guys are so worked up about,” Maybe said, snickering when he mentioned the Dark Judges’ infamous moto. “While I do enjoy murdering the occasional dozen or hundred on the occasion, ending all life just seems too much of a bore. I mean, seriously, after that, what murder would ever taste so sweet? What crime could ever compare?” Maybe pointed the wine bottle directly at the sisters. “No, what I want is a favor.”
“Favvor?” Nausea spat out, slapping Phobia’s hand away. “What favor coould you possiblyy want from usss?”
“Oh, I could think of a number of different ones, and I’m sure you can if you put your mind to it. All I want is one favor, one teensy, little favor. Unconditional, of course.” Maybe tapped at the end of the cork on the wine bottle. “What do you say?”
Phobia and Nausea glared at Maybe, then in hushed voices discussed amongst themselves. After several minutes, they returned their attention back to Maybe and replied, “We accept your offeeer, Mayybe.”
“I hope that’s a yes to the offer and not just saying my name,” Maybe joked.
“Juuust open the bottle!”
Maybe rolled his eyes and uncorked the wine bottle. “Everyone’s a critic.”
Out of the bottle flew three ghastly ghouls of gruesome origins. Fear was the first to exit, his spectral incarnation still portraying his fiendish helmet which hid a face so terrifying almost anyone who lays eyes upon it die from fright. Mortis was next, toting along his usual headgear of a goat’s skull while a toxic green fog followed in his ghostly wake. Lastly was Fire, his fiery skeleton form still making the room unbearably hot.
“Hurryy, Dark Judgesss! The tiiime of judgement iss upon usss!” both sisters bellowed, each of the Dark Judges quickly flying to the glass tube to only disappear once they hit Phobia and Nausea’s reflections. Judge Fire was the only one to pause, casting Maybe a sideways look with a small nod of his head.
With all the Dark Judges gone and the Sisters of Death off to conduct their own business, Maybe was left alone in his apartment. Sniffing the bottle of wine he had housed the Dark Judges in for months on end, his nose wrinkled at the positively putrid and downright gut-wrenching smell from inside. “I guess this is a bit too ripe for my liking.”
Overlooking the balcony again, Maybe smiled as he took in the great expanse and ruin of Mega-City One. His city, which he had some form of puppet-control over when he was Mayor. But no, that wasn’t enough. With a sinking realization, Maybe knew that Mayor would never fulfill his appetite for control. Control over the city, over the citizens, and yes, even over the Judges.
Looking down to the ground so far below, Maybe noticed the Judges cuffing the half-eaten remains of the still-living junkie and gluttonously pleased fattie. Tipping the bottle over for the vicious liquid to fall upon the Judges and perps, Maybe laughed. “Here’s to you, Dredd! The best damn Judge this city ever had! And never will have either!”
Sombra was dead. That much was evident by what he felt. An emptiness so deep it hurt. Agony and misery mixed in a vicious current in his core that swirled and mixed with his very being and perforated his very being until he was bleeding it, a wound cut into his very soul. Relentless was this being of existence and nonexistence he wished for the eventual release he was begging to come.
He could not move, for he had no body to speak of. He could not cry, for his mouth no longer existed. He could not cry, for he could not see his own torment. But he could hurt. Mutilated to nothingness was his only fate now in this void that was the afterlife.
Maybe this was Tartarus? Not hellfire or demons, but just purgatory in endless blackness with just his pain as his only company. A befitting end.
“Rissse,” a voice in the darkness spoke. “Rissse and ssstand, dark one.”
This voice was unfamiliar, but Sombra could feel the edge of demise creeping in its tone. A tone that was used to ordering others with an authority unquestioning. Orders that would be carried out no matter what, whether they be to command the death of others, or the genocide of all. It was… it was like his voice.
“Yesss. Feel the powwer floww through yoou. Can you ssensse the darknesss creeeping in?” The voice laughed maniacally. “Iss it not graaand?”
Sombra was beginning to take form again. The pain fueled his effort, redoubling his purpose to be something in this nothing and to not disappear but be. Be what he once was.
“Ssssslavvvvvesssss,” Sombra uttered in a deafening hiss. “My cryssssstal ssssssslavvvvvesssss..”
He blinked, vision now having returned to him. It hadn’t changed much, the darkness quite prevalent from before but not as suffocating. A figure could be vaguely made it, but it blurred and fuzzed too much for him to discern it.
“Wwell, wwell, yooou alreadyy havve the hisss. Looksss like we’ll get alongg juussst fine,” the figure before him cackled, rubbing its claws together. The pale shine of its teeth could be noticed in the blackness, though barely. It looked like teeth from a freshly decayed skeleton. “Now take form and prepare ffor judggement!”
“Yessssssss… crystalssssssss. Ssssssslavvvvvvvesssssss!” Sombra wheezed through his fangs.
“Yeah… I alreadyy got that. Noww, why don’t yoou—”
“Sssssslavvvvvesssss! Cryssssstalsssssss! Cryssssstal ssssslavvvvesssss!”
Groaning, the shadow-ridden figure facepalmed and sighed. “Can yoou sssay anythingg elsse other than ‘ssslavvvess’ and ‘crysssstalss?’”
“My… crysssstalssss?” he muttered.
Sombra felt either cheek be slapped against by a clawed appendage that dealt massive amounts of stinging pain to his face. Falling back with a grunt, Sombra rubbed furiously at where he was struck. “Hey, what was that for?”
“At leassst you can talk noormallyy noww,” the figure concluded, crossing his arms. Now that Sombra got a better look at him, his anger over the double-slap disappeared in an instant, only to be replaced with confusion. The figure seemed to come out from one’s worst nightmare in terms of appearance, which were unflattering to the eyes more than anything else. Rotting skin, a ghoulish facade of skeletal symbols on a stitched-together uniform and a smile so grim that the only cheerful implication behind it was most likely something horrific in practice.
“What… what are you?” Sombra asked in a trembling voice, trailing backwards.
“I am Deeeath. Judge Death, to be exacct,” Death answered, twirling his finger around the smoke-like trail Sombra left in his wake.
Sombra looked down and noticed he was missing some fundamental body parts, such as his legs, which were replaced with a smokey tail instead. “What happened to my legs?”
“Gone, mosst likeyy,” Death said, crossing one arm over his chest while he rubbed his chin with the other hand, inspecting Sombra. “You are deeead, after all.”
“Dead? No… no, I can’t be dead yet. Not now.” Sombra closed his eyes, resting a hoof over his chest. No familiar beating of his heart. He hadn’t felt any compulsion to breathe in any air either. “I had so much to do. So many plans left unfinished. So many enemies left uncrushed beneath the furious vengeance of my hooves!”
“Wwell then, you’re in the perfecct placce to hhelp with thossse goalsss!” Death cackled, spreading his skeleton thin arms out wide. “Wwelccome to Deadworld! Where life itssself isss declared illegal!”
The world Sombra was now inhabiting certainly lived up to its name. Skulls, old and white, littered the ground as far as the eye could see, as though every grave in the world had upturned its contents in this place. The sky was a dismal black fallout that blocked out all light from the skies and sunk this world in perpetual darkness so deep the only illumination came from Sombra’s ghastly form and Death’s decaying luminosity, glowing with a fiendish green light. Towers touching the black expanse of clouds in the sky littered the lands, leaning and in ruin for who knows how long. Most were decorated with the skeletal remains of their former inhabitants.
“Well… I can see where you got the name from,” Sombra said with a breath of hesitation in his voice. “What I’m really wondering is what the ‘life itself is declared illegal’ part you mentioned before.”
“All crimesss are onlyy committed byy the livving! Ssso anyything alivve isss therefore guilty! And the only befitting punisshment isss death! Evvery livving thing in thiss world isss dead! And after countlesss yearsss of genoccide, everything in thisss entire univversse iss dead asss well!” Death clapped his claws together and put them against his cheek as he stared down at Sombra with that ever-horrendous grin on his face growing wider. “Isssn’t it wwonderful?”
“You seriously killed everyone in your entire universe?” Sombra balked. Sombra didn’t know whether alien beings existed or not, but accounting them in rose the population of an entire universe full of beings certainly raised the number up considerably. He couldn’t even properly grasp at the amount.
“Oh, it wassn’t jussst me,” Death assured him. “My fellow Judggesss, Fire, Fear, and Mortis, managged to purgge thisss world of life and finally bringg judggement upon the livving! For we are the Dark Judgesss! The crime iss life, the ssentencce iss death!”
“Is that a catchphrase or something?” Sombra asked.
“No! Wwell, um… yesss, in a wayy.” Death rubbed awkwardly at the back of his helmet, coughing slightly into his fist as he kicked at a nearby ribcage with his spiny toes. Looking back at Sombra and tapping the side of his helmet with a claw, he asked, “Anyywayss, back to matterss at hand. Who and what exactly are yoou?”
Sombra dusted off his ghostly shoulder and adjusted his spectral cape while a smirk touched upon his dead lips. “I am King Sombra, Scourge of the North, Emperor of the Crystal Empire, Sovereign Master of the Crystal Mountains, Lord of Darkness, and undisputed Ruler of all of—”
“Can wwe wrap thisss up?” Death asked, rolling his hand along.
Rolling his eyes and growling lowly under his breath, Sombra said, “And I’m also a unicorn, if that helps.”
Death looked like someone had struck him upon the cheek. Taking a single step back while slowly raising his claws up, he asked, “Wh-what wasss th-that?”
“Did I stutter?” Sombra asked, pointing a hoof at his horn atop his head. “I said unicorn. You do know what that is, right? A pony with a horn, can often use magic and spells, that sort of thing. Though I used dark magics to take over an entire empire and enslave its people, but still, magic nonetheless.”
“P-p-p-pony?” Death muttered, clattering his teeth on his claws. Shaking like a half-rotted tree in a hurricane, Death pointed a single, trembling claw at Sombra. “You’re a… a… pony?”
Sombra looked around himself, glanced back at Death’s quivering form and answered, “Yes… I am. Though I don’t think I’ve seen your kind before. What, may I presume, are you?”
“PONY!” Death screamed in a shrill, girlish scream one wouldn’t think in a thousand years would part his lips. Turning around and scampering away with his hands raised in surrender, Death continued to yell, “NO! NOT THE PONIESSS! ANYYTHING BUT THE PONIESSS! MOMMY, NO, NOT THE PONIESSS! MOOOOOMMYY!”
Death stopped in his tracks, as if struck by an invisible force that sent him flying backwards for his head and the top of his torso to sink beneath the ground made of bones while his naked feet kicked pathetically in the air.
“Wwell, wwell, Nausea, it sseemsss like you were misstaken,” Phobia said to her sister, smiling as she plucked Death up like a flower by his foot. “It took lesss than elevven minutess.”
“If it weren’t for the sstupid one, I would’ve been rigght!” Nausea argued, crossing her arms with a pout.
“Gget me outta here! There’ss a ponyy here! A pony!” Death begged. He crossed his hands and practically pleaded to be taken away from Sombra’s presence.
“Oh, ccome noww, Death. A ponyy can’t sseriousssly be your greatesst fear?” Fear laughed. He and his fellow Dark Judges followed in Phobia and Nausea’s presence, already outfitted with corpses they had possessed not too long ago.
“Ugh. I haaate getting the fat oness!” Mortis complained. He tucked in his uniform more into his belt buckle, but there was still an abundant amount of extra material hanging out. With a dissatisfied growl, Mortis began tearing sections out of his uniform, along with just decomposing it with his powers. “Yoou’d think after all the timesss I decayyed the corpssesss for all of usss to usse, I’d be able to choosse firsst dibsss.”
“Quit your complainingg. I got the chick and yoou don’t sssee me ccomplainingg about it,” Fire said. Bones sizzled and hissed beneath his fiery feet, the Judge’s entire body engulfed in flames that revealed a grinning skeleton underneath. “No need to gget yoour tail in a buncch.”
“That’sss becaussse you jusst burn yoour bodyy!” Mortis reminded him, gripping sheepishly at his rat tail while he glared at the inferno Judge from beneath his goat skeleton helmet.
“Both of yoou sshould quit your whinningg while wwe consssole with our belovved leader,” Fear reminded them. Looking up at Phobia’s grisly fingers where Death jerked and convulsed in her grip to be freed, Fear laughed with his hands on his side. “Beingg an expert on feeear, I am disssappointed in your’ss, Death. I wasss expeccting better from our leader.”
“You foolss! Yoou dare quessstion myy leadersship? Whyy, if I wasss dowwn there rigght noww, I’d teach you all a thingg about resspect!” Death shouted from up above while shaking his fist like an old man at some snot-nosed kids getting their grubby feet on his lawn.
“Wwe don’t havve tiiime for your bickeringg!” Phobia said, releasing Death.
While the Dark Judge fell flat on his face as his comrades laughed, Nausea silenced all of them with a hiss. “Sssilence! Like myy sissster ssaid, wwe don’t havve tiiime! Our hour of grandure isss at hand!”
“Um, excuse me!” Sombra yelled out, raising a hoof to catch their attention. “I’ve been here about five minutes now and I still have no idea what’s going on. Can someone explain to me why I’m here and who the hell you all are?”
“Did I not jusst givve my introductory speecch not twwo minutess ago?” Death asked while throwing his claws up in the air.
“Mayybe your were too busssy cowwering in frigght?” Fear guessed, him along with Fire and Mortis chuckling under their breaths.
Death slowly turned to Fear, and then grabbed either side of his shoulder where incredibly large bear traps acted as shoulderguards. Staring straight into the great helm of Fear where encased in the cage was a face that could kill the living with just a glance, Death smiled. “Wwhat isss it you alwayss ssay? Gazze into the facce of feeear?” Then he smashed his forehead into Fear’s face, breaking the cage protecting him and causing Fear to grip the large batwings on either side of his helmet in agony.
“Gazze into that and learn your placce,” Death said calmly as he dusted off the dent in the forehead of his helmet. Fire and Mortis took a step back as he passed them, the trident held in Fire’s claws practically quivering in his palms. Returning his attention back to Phobia and Nausea, while discreetly avoiding looking in Sombra’s direction, he asked, “Noww then, tell usss whyy you havve gathered uss here and whyy we aren’t alreadyy invvading Mega-City One.”
“It isss all becaussse of hiiim!” Phobia proclaimed, pointing a lone claw at Sombra’s direction.
“Weekss ago wwe ssenssed hisss pressence! The hate and aggony radiatingg from hisss bodyy could be felt from evven the farthesst reachesss of the dimenssion planess!” Nausea lifted her claws to the heavens—or rather, lack of thereof in this world—and cried out, “Sso overwheeelming it wasss, my ssissster and I couldn’t help but pluck it before it esscaped usss forevver! And loe and behhold, itss powwer wasss ggreater than wwe could have evver imagined!”
Sombra tapped his chin slowly, staring at the sight of horrifically decomposed supernatural beings with an almost bored look. “Yes, while that’s all fine and mighty, exactly where do I have a play in this?”
“It isss from you that wwe felt the powwer! Or just the effectss of it. A power so great, so mightyy, it has the potential to ssspread our influence not jusst acrosss this world, but all worldsss and evven exisstence itssself!” Phobia said.
If light bulbs could randomly appear above people’s heads once an idea has flourished, there’d be shining one right atop Sombra’s horn at this moment. “Oh, you mean the Crysssssstal he—I mean, Crystal Heart. Yes, I do know of it. I controlled its power and spread absolute darkness and fear across the lands, bending ponies to my will and crushing all their hopes and dreams beneath my might as they were reduced to nothing but my slaves!” Coughing and brushing off his cape, he asked, “What do you want to know about it?”
“Where isss it located?” Nause implored.
“And howw might we get about accquiring itsss powwer?” Nausea added on.
“Well, you can find the crystal heart in the Crystal Empire, a domain I once ruled before they showed up.”
“And who would ‘theyy’ be?” Death asked, still keeping a safe distance away from Sombra. At least his voice wasn’t quavering anymore.
“They would be those blasted Element Bearers and their stupid dragon and pink pony princess!” Sombra retorted. Death turned momentarily pale at the mention of ‘pink pony princess,’ but managed to compose himself from not running away like a little girl. “I was originally locked away with the rest of my Empire in a curse that lasted a thousand years when my position of ruler was usurped. Once I returned, I managed to steal some information from the mind of the pink pony princess’ husband, learning that in my millenium of absence my enemies were still around and a new force to reckon with stood in my way. The only way I could reclaim what was rightfully mine and rule the Crystal Empire as its rightful leader was to get my hooves on the Crystal Heart.” Looking down at his translucent body, Sombra sighed heavily. “However, things didn’t go according to plan.”
“Do you ssstill wisssh to deliver judggement on thosse who dared defyy you?” Death asked, crossing his arms.
“More than anything!” Sombra replied quickly. “Nothing in the world would please me more than killing every single one of those damnable ponies and make their last seconds of life tick away in as much agony as possible! My hate will bring a storm of judgement upon their heads, with the sentence being death!”
“Heyy, he totallyy ripped off our catchphrassse!” Fire objected.
“Only because you’ve been going on and on about them ever since I met you crazy freaks,” Sombra replied bitterly.
“Enouggh, both of you!” Phobia commanded, raising her claws for silence.
“He isss needed to enter hisss wworld,” Nausea reminded the Dark Judges. “Wwith hiiim at our ssside, nothingg can stop uss from getting into hisss world and takingg the crystal heart for oursselvesss.”
“Why, exactly, do you need the Crystal Heart again?” Sombra asked with a raised brow.
“Whyy, to bringg jussticce to the ultimate crime! Life itsself!” Phobia answered, rubbing her claws together gleefully. “We already observved itss blassted abilityy to ssspread lovve sso great we felt it all the wayy from our owwn world. Ssickening asss it wass, it gavve usss a brilliant idea!”
Nausea cackled a sinister breath as she played with the gore-covered tentacles on her shoulder like she was twisting a braid of hair. “Whyy not ussse itss power to ssspread our jusstice? Fear will bloom in the heartsss of millionss. Fire sshall rain down from the skiesss, while pessstilence and disseassse expandss accrosss the landss! And finallyy, deeeath ssshall sspread not onlyy acrosss thiss wworld, but to all worldss! Then acrosss all the dimenssionsss! And then—”
“ALL OF EXISSTENCE!” both sisters shouted, joining together in a hearty laugh of merriment and stated genocide on an everything ever scale.
The rest of the Dark Judges looked like little boys in a candy shop with enough money to eat till their teeth rot—more so than they already are. Fire and Mortis slapped hands, Fear finally managed to pick himself up from the ground and gave a grand sweep of the floor with his cape to still attempt an appearance of intimidation after his humiliation from Death, who was currently jumping up and down while clapping his hands.
“Uh, that’s great and all, but what do I get out of this deal?” Sombra asked. “With everyone dead, I don’t really have much of an empire left.”
“Yoou help usss get the Cryssstal Heart, and we’ll get you a neww bodyy,” Phobia offered, grinning maliciously to the discontent Sombra. “Or you can refussse and retuurn to whatevver afterlife you were meant to ggo to before Phobia and Nausea ssstopped you.”
“Whoa, let’s not be hasty now!” Sombra objected, waving his hooves desperately. Sighing and rubbing his forehead, he groaned under his breath and looked up at the Sisters of Death. “Listen, if I get to at least get some revenge on that damn princess who stopped me from reclaiming my throne, then the Crystal Heart is yours. But it won’t be easy to get.”
“Wwe are prepared to offer the sservicesss of the Dark Judgesss, the mossst fearssome forcce of terror the likess of any wworld hasss ever met before,” Nausea said.
“Well, from what I have scoured of the mind of Shining Armor—Princess Cadance’s husband and the one whose mind I invaded while in battle—there’s some complications to that plan. For one thing, there’s Princess Celestia and Luna,” Sombra said, practically spitting out both the ponies’ names. “Their power is great and would prove troublesome to do battle with. Along with them are the Elements of Harmony, controlled by six mares who bear each of the Elements. Their leader is Twilight Sparkle, a unicorn with a high caliber of magical abilities. And finally, there’s Princess Cadance herself.” Sombra gritted his fangs and his ghostly eyes briefly lit up in a vile green light. “Her power of love can vanquish even the most powerful darkness in the lands. And because of her and that blasted dragon, I lost my life.”
“Where might each of thessse foess be at?” Nausea implored him.
Sombra hummed under his breath. “Well, if my memories from Shining are correct, the Element Bearers will be located at Ponyville, a small town in the country. Celestia and Luna would be in their castle at the top of a mountain in a city known as Canterlot, the Equestrian capital. Finally, Cadance and the Crystal Heart will be in the Crystal Empire, up to the north in the Crystal Mountains.”
“Then it’sss decided,” Phobia said, clamping her claws together. “Judge Fire sshall go to Ponyvville and wipe out itsss inhabitantsss alongg with the Element Bearersss! Judge Fear and Mortis ssshall deal with Celesstia and Luna ressspectfully. And then, Judge Death and Sssombra sshall kill that pessky pony Princess Cadance and get usss the Crysstal Heart!”
“What?” Death shouted.
“Can you at least pronounce my name correctly?” Sombra asked just at the same time Death spoke.
“He isssn’t even a Dark Judgge!” Death pointed out, flapping his claws in Sombra’s direction. “We don’t evven havve a bodyy for hiiim to inhabit!”
“Then it isss decided,” Nausea said, lifting up a single claw as a swirl of dark energies formed into a ball. “From noww on, Sssombra isss no more! For now he isss Judge Hatred!” From the ball popped out a badge in the shape of a winged unicorn with the word ‘Hatred’ printed on the front, glowing an ominous green fire.
As the badge clipped into place on the front of his armor, Sombra looked back up at the Sisters of Death with a deadpan expression. “Seriously? Judge Hatred? Why do I get stuck with the most unoriginal one?”
Judge Fire coughed loudly off to the side.
“There’ss ssstill the deal with him not havving a bodyy!” Death tugged at his uniform. “Howw can he properlyy help out if he can’t evven kiiill anyone?”
“Once we’re done wiiith thisss world, there’ll be pleentyy of fresssh corpssesss to sspare!” Mortis cheerfully reminded Death.
“That’sss not the point!”
“Ssso it’ss beccaussse he’sss a pony?” Fear asked, glowering at Death from behind his mask. “Are you a racisst now, Death, or jusst—”
“Don’t let me teeach you anothher lessson, Feeear!” Death warned with a single raised digit.
“Quiet, all of you!” Sombra snapped, running a hoof through his face with an exasperated breath being released. “If I need a body to possess to live… unlive… whatever, then I only have one in mind. Shining Armor.” Sombra’s red pupils shined with a demonic might sparkling behind their glow. “And in his body, I shall kill Cadance myself! Befitting that her one true love will also be her downfall.”
“Revvenge ssscheme twissted in the mosst horrific wayy posssible? I think I’m beginningg to like thisss guyy,” Fire laughed.
“Yesss, I believe he sshall be an exccellent assset to our team,” Mortis agreed.
“I sssee no problem with hiiim beingg here,” Fear said, lifting up his palm towards Death. “What of yoou, Deeeath?”
Judge Death grumbled under his breath, glaring at his lieutenants before returning his attention to Sombra and wincing at the very sight. “F-fiiine, he isss one of usss.”
“I’m just bursting with joy,” Sombra said with a roll of his eyes.
“Enouggh dissscussion! Time for judggement!” Phobia proclaimed, both her and Nausea lifting up their claws where dark magic spewed from their palms.
Portals sprung up beside each of the Dark Judges, one for Fire, another beside Fear and Mortis, and a third located near Death and Sombra.
“Each of thesse portalsss ssshould bringg you to yoour desstination. Emphassiss on the ssshould. We are not asss familiar wwith thiss wworld asss ssome otherss,” Nausea stated.
“Aren’t you coming along for the grisly fun?” Sombra asked in disdain.
“We havve no psychic anchor in that wworld. We can onlyy look from afar and enjoyy the showw,” Phobia said.
Sombra sighed. “Well, that’s reassuring.”
“Jusst remember, Judge Hatred,” Nausea hissed from between her razor-sharp fangs, “wwe gavve you the gift of eternal life, and wwe can take it awayy jusst asss eassily.”
Sombra gritted his teeth, but his only response was to jump through the black, swirling portal.
“Heyy guysss, I bet yoou I’ll kill myy target firsst!” Fire called out to Fear and Mortis, already through his portal.
“We’ll sssee about that oncce thesse poniesss gaze into the face of FEAR!” Fear stated, stepping into his own portal.
Mortis followed close behind, rubbing the spot between his eyes if he actually had eyes or a face for that matter. “You reeeally need a neww catchphrassse.”
Death was the only one left only, standing before his portal with an agitated expression on his normally horrifying expression. “Poniesss,” he whispered, gulping. “It alwaysss hass to be poniesss. It couldn’t be anyything elsse in the world… but poniesss.” Groaning loudly, he took one step forward and sprinted through the portal. “I really haaate myy unlife.”
