The last thing he saw before he was swallowed into the abyss was the joyful faces of his opponents. Then everything was dark. All light was sucked from his surroundings as his screeches of anger and pure pain were halted.
Everything was black as space. At first, Sombra huffed, flying around his new contained area to find a ways out. In one particular spot, Sombra could hear noises. Though they were muffled, he could still hear things.
"Thanks to you, Sombra can never harm the Crystal Empire again."
He could hear, followed by the clapping of hooves together. They were rejoicing his defeat. Malice pinged his heart, over taking him as he whisked about, continuing to look for a way out. He would show them. They would pay for their insolence.
Their idiocy would cost them their lives! He would kill them with THEIR OWN HOOVES! He couldn't help himself from roaring and screaming in anger from not being able to find a way out. It was a natural instinct. He didn't do well in closed places, you see.
He had flown about for the longest amount of time. He had gone over to the spot where he could hear things multiple times, but it was now silent. Sombra was going to go insane if he couldn't get out of here. Not like he already was. It appeared to be futile. He was unable to get out. He had flown about for what seemed to be hours. Everything was the same. Black. Dark. Cold. His magic had fired off in random directions, but it never hit anything. It just kept going.
He couldn't give up. Sombra had stayed in a ice Tartarus for a thousand years. This wasn't nearly as bad. Save for the fact he was alone. Very, very alone. In the darkness. Stuck in silence. Sombra had grown tired from flinging his magic about. He had sunk to the floor of his container. His face pressed up against the floor. What was he supposed to do now? There was no ice to practice magic on in here. Sombra flopped over so his snout faced upwards.
Maybe this was his punishment. Eternally stuck in here. As a ghost. Not even granted life. What a cruel joke that was. Maybe he was stuck in here to think about what he had done. If that was the case, well, he was already doing that.
Sombra thought. He thought about when he had first claimed the Crystal Empire. He smiled at the memory. It was so fond. He could still remember it like it was yesterday, despite it being a thousand year old memory. Then a scowl appeared. He could see it like it was yesterday, the day he was banished to the arctic north by two Alicorns.
Then he was freed from his prison after the seal on his prison broke, and he was released once more. He planned to reign terror over his empire once more, but it had been taken by another. To exact his revenge, he had to have the empire. He had to. So, naturally, he attempted to break in. All of his attempts were futile, seeing as he was reduced to his faithful smoke. Then, once the forcefield disintegrated, he rushed in. Going to take the Crystal Heart and destroy it, naturally. Then he was defeated again, by a Alicorn and a baby dragon.
His frown deepened.
Even though his fail-safe spell had activated, and he had saved himself from disaster, he was depleted of his magic and flung far from the empire. He had an exhausting fly from where he had landed, he went back to the Crystal Empire to fulfill his destiny. He was a persistent one, to say the least. Due to his even weaker ghostly form, he had to have some back up. Retrieving some ghosts from Tartarus who pledged their after lives to him, Sombra planned to retake the empire, and gain back all his power once more. Then he was distracted, blasted, scorched, and placed in space. That's the place he was at right now.
Sombra couldn't help but feel something twinge inside him. No, not guilt. He didn't have any of that. No, not regret. He couldn't feel that. No, not remorse. He felt shame. He had shamed his own name.
All three of his previous trips to the Crystal Empire ended up in his banishment, his death, and now, being captured. This was all his fault. What had he done wrong? His plans were flawless. He was a master planner, he had made traps that lasted for thousands and thousands of years. Were they not enough? Was he not enough? That was it. He wasn't good enough. He had botched up. Three times, in a straight row. He had brought disgrace upon the pure arts of magic. He was a smear that wouldn't go away.
He was nothing. He was just a smoke cloud that went around with some illusions and liked to scare ponies because it kept him alive. He deserved to be here. He had flunked so much, they were doing him a favor, putting him in here. It would stop him from embarrassing himself.
Sombra plucked a nostalgic metal crown from his head. He loved this old thing. It was the only thing he had left. It had been with him through thin and thick. He had grown attached to it, because he had no friends. Why did he have no friends? He was stuck in a glacier for a thousand years, and was also a dictator of an empire that wronged him. That drove most ponies away.
Not his crown, though. His crown couldn't be driven away. His crown couldn't decide where it would go, or who's head it was upon. Sombra thought for a second. Did this he deserve this crown? A crown, only made for the highest of the high, upon the head of an moronic pony who has failed utterly not once, but three times. No. Sombra sighed heavily as he tossed it off to the side, hearing a small clack of metal against the floor. He wasn't a King.
He was a idiotic, failure-doomed pony who had to hide from the sun and moon. He didn't deserve to be a King anymore. He may be a wizard of masterful proportions, but that didn't mean much. Not anymore, at least. No pony liked him anyways. No pony cared. He didn't care either. Why should he? Who cared for the opinion of a fool? No one.
He was so much in the past, now he looked down upon himself. He was belittled by his failure, more than ever. One failed stand, sure. Whatever. He couldn't stand for three. He couldn't stand at all anymore, because he had become this catastrophe.
He didn't want to stand either. He just wanted to lay here for eternity. He didn't care if it broke his sanity. He didn't care if it was silent. He didn't want to move ever again. This lack of success had left him staring at the nonexistent ceiling. Wondering if he could go to Tartarus. Wondering if he was deserving of such a place. No. He could not be restful, he was granted immortality due to his banishment.
This immortality, this curse had been worn and twisted so he could never receive the peacefulness of the afterlife. Yes, Tartarus, to him, was considered peaceful. Now he was stuck with himself, an informal flop, for the next millennia. Repeating the same memories. Repeating the same defeats in his mind. Stuck reminding himself he was so pathetic that he was not even defeated by an Alicorn this time. He was beaten by regular, everyday ponies.
His best simply wasn't enough. Mostly because he was the worst.
That's the moral that stuck with him. That's the thought that would be eternally burned into his mind because of these pony's actions. Who cares, though. There was no sympathy for the cruel and cold. No pony liked them. No pony liked Nightmare Moon. Except for Celestia. No pony liked Discord. Except for Fluttershy. No pony liked Queen Chrysalis. Except for an entire species of changelings. No pony liked Sunset Shimmer, except for five friends that decided to reform her.
No pony likes Sombra. There is no except. Everypony hates him, and that's what he was aiming for. Now he's stuck and alone, and no pony cares. He wasn't aiming for that. He wasn't aiming for being a loser either.
Sombra could hear the taunting voices off in the distance again. With a puff that lacked anger, Sombra slowly tuned into their conversations.
"We came, we saw, and kicked it's ghostly pony flank!"
"What's say we unload Sombra into his new home?"
Sombra had no objections. Whatever they planned to do to him, wherever he was being put, he didn't care. As long as he didn't have to move. As long as he wasn't tortured for his negligence. Sombra didn't want to leave his crown here. He would keep it with him, he just wouldn't wear it, for reasons previously explained. He grabbed it in his mouth.
"Good idea."
The final words were spoken, as a large rift opened up in the black abyss. It was made of pure white, and it nearly blinded him when he had first looked at it. With eyes shut, it started to suck him in. He didn't fight back, obviously. This was his fate. Noise burst into Sombra's ears as he was placed into his new home. Sombra looked about. Disgusting ghouls flew about everywhere, with boundless energy, unlike him.
Sombra sulked as he loosely held the crown of a King in his mouth. There were millions, or at least thousands of alien ghosts in here. Different colors, different shapes, different sizes. Sombra trekked on through the sea of technicolored specters. In hopes of finding some place where it was somewhat quiet. Though Sombra wasn't big on noise, he wasn't big on silence either. He enjoyed a little bit of talk now and then, but not just random sounds and gurgles.
Ghosts had popped out from infront of him, screaming in his face. He gave them no response. When he had passed them, they seemed utterly confused. Though the ghosts around here were very colorful sorts, the majority of them had boundless energy and enjoyed spreading fear to others. They were a slapstick loving bunch. While Sombra on the other hand, despised jokes as an entirety. The atmosphere he had brought with him was extremely strange.
Sadness was nothing new, of course. Though it wasn't major or anything. Usually it was just a bit of sobbing and such. This though, was completely new. It was could only be described as life-considering. Even in death, he was considering his life. His past. Everything. Those in life could also do the same, as most did it at the late hours of the night, unable to sleep.
His atmosphere was one that could be around a suicide considering mortal. One considering if they were good enough, or deserved a life. One considering if any one would miss them. One considering if any one would love them. One considering who they were, and how useless they were to a society as a whole. Sombra suffered from all these thoughts fluttering in his head as he wandered. More and more ghosts stopped to stare at the spiritually destroyed pony.
There was pity. Something that Sombra hated. He hated lots of things. He couldn't be bothered to hate anything right now. Seeing as he was a dereliction. The ghosts he had passed seemed a bit changed after he floated past them. They were either utterly confused, or sad. There were a couple outliers that just continued spasming with untold child-like energy.
After flying for what felt like an eternity, Sombra came across an empty space. Though there were some ghosts close by here, the noise was reduced. With that, Sombra laid on the nonexistent ground, and wallowed in his new-found depression. He had placed the crown down next to him, and that's where it would stay.
No ghosts dared to visit him. They didn't want to be infected by his atmosphere. Everyone knows that misery always adores company. So they never gave him any.
"NOOOOOOOO!"
Nightmare Moon screamed as all light drowned from her vision. The room she had been accustomed to for the past scheme simply vanished, as she was pulled into a small box by a vortex. Despite her ghostly form, she could still feel a burning sensation. From those lasers. They scorched her.
Nightmare Moon looked about the containment box, and laughed. Darkness. Everywhere. What idiots were they, casting an illusion spell to put her in her own element? How stupid were those Ghost Blaster? Ghost Boosters? What? She had their name on the tip of her tongue. No matter! She would mock them by making fun of their name.
"Oh, how cute. I'm sorry to say, Ghost Busters," That's the name. Ghost Busters, yeah. "but I'm not afraid of the dark."
Nightmare scoffed, as she trotted about in the darkness. What she was searching for? The source of this dark illusion. Whoever was casting was a certainly well-trained Mage. It was cold, extremely cold. Cold enough that Windigos would be jealous. Nightmare had an inability to react to this coldness. She couldn't shiver.
"Now, come out! Lest you be too much of a-"
"The Nightmare is over."
What was that noise? Luna? She could have sworn she just heard Luna's voice. But from where? Nightmare's horn flickered in impatience. This place's quietness and Luna's sudden disturbance was getting to her.
"Luna! Show yourself, and I may reconsider you to be a worthy ally. Get out of the shadows, NOW!"
Nightmare demanded, screaming to deaf walls. For now, she was continuing to walk.
While she walked, she thought.
Why had Luna refused her offer? An offer from her better half? Her stronger half? Did Luna want to be weak, lower than her sister? Did she want to lose battles? Why? This still made no sense. Perhaps, Luna was scared of her better half. She didn't want power, because she was too idiotic to realize the potential Nightmare had.
Was that it? Was Nightmare simply a reject of Luna? A powerful, great and beautiful reject? No. She was not. Nightmare made herself her own body. She made herself her own hooves to stand on. She was.. an individual.. right? She wasn't just some carbon copy, with darker fur and even better hair, right?
Nightmare knew that to be lies. She had forged her own personality, own name, and own body. But.. She made this body off of Luna. She even had the same Cutiemark as Luna. Everything. Luna, Luna, Luna. That scoundrel. That horrid beast for an Alicorn. Why couldn't she just accept Nightmare, and let them be together again? Then Nightmare wouldn't look like Luna's twin, and Luna would just.. Not exist.
It was one or the other, it seemed. Nightmare had tried her hardest, but Luna was much too determined.
Nightmare continued walking.
On and on.
Like her hooves, her mind wandered. She wondered. Why had she done that monologue? Why didn't she just blast the Ghost Busters when they stuck their little snouts inside the door? Why did the Ghost Busters wait for her to stop her monologue? Why did her faithful Shadow Bolts fail her? Why couldn't she just possess a Ghost Buster, and just have them kill their friends, then kill themselves? Why hadn't she thought of this plan earlier?
Nightmare Moon smashed snout first into a wall. She reeled back, tending to her nose. She smiled. A wall in this illusion. How unfortunate.
"Oh, whatever will I do? I'm stuck in darkness for-" Nightmare's horn summoned a large laser, which was flung forward at high speeds. It passed right by the wall, and off into the darkness. "ever..?"
Nightmare poked at the wall with her hoof. Her laser should have broken it, and the illusion should have faded, but it didn't. Who was this skilled that they could contain the great Nightmare Moon inside a forcefield, INSIDE an illusion?
Nightmare punched the 'forcefield' wall with her hoof. Only for it to clang against what seemed to be metal. This caused Nightmare's hoof to shoot with pain, as she quickly learned her lesson about hitting the walls.
With a huff, she turned back, and walked back to the way she had came from. She fumed.
What was the place, who made it? Who would dare to keep her in it? She had been watching the defeat of Sombra over and over in her free time. Studying everything the Ghost Busters did to catch him inside that box. They lead him around the Crystal Empire, and then strangled him in lasers. Then, lowered him down into a box, where.. he was sucked up by a vortex.
Nightmare pieced this together. She was defeated, and put in a box. Just like Sombra was. She was better than him! In all ways imaginable! She had wings, the power to lift the moon, heck, she was the master of illusions! How was this possible?!
She remembered how long it had taken them to defeat him.
"I was.. beaten faster than Sombra..?"
Nightmare's anger for dropped, as her ears flattened at the thought of this. There was no denying this truth. Comparing when Sombra had started his operation, and when Nightmare had started hers, Sombra lasted longer.
"No. He's nothing compared to me. I am the Night! He's the shadow! He can't have outlasted me!"
Nightmare denied this truth as she stopped her pace, staring at the floor. Her mind piled up with all these things, the fact she was bested by Luna, and everyday ponies.. The fact she was a carbon copy of Luna herself, and wasn't an individual pony of her own self. The fact that her plan was worse than Sombra's was..
She denied it. She denied it all.
She flopped down to her knees, and sat. Staring at the floor, unblinking, as her failure came to mentally haunt her. She was crumbling. She did not cry, she couldn't cry. She was a ghost. She was dead. She wasn't even real. Even when she was alive, she wasn't even a real pony. She was just a part of Luna! Nothing more!
Nightmare sat there for a whole night. Unblinking. Thinking. As her mind destroyed her from the inside out. The silence drilled into her ears. The cold forced its way into her being.
Something pierced the silence. Talking. Nightmare didn't focus on it, until one line said by who knows, was spoken.
"Who knows, next time another ghost causes trouble we may have to get you out of the castle to help us, Princess Celestia."
Celestia was going to force restless souls into boxes? To think about mistakes for the next millennia? What kind of sick, twisted world was this?
"NO! THOU SHALL NOT DO THIS TO ANOTHER SOUL!"
Nightmare barked, shooting up a rebellious beam to where she thought the sound came from. Why would they do this to ghosts, ponies who've died? Ponies who outlived their stay in this demented Tartarus-hole? Celestia was a demon, straight from the deepest pit of Tartarus.
"That would be nice. I hardly to get out much unless it's royal business."
She could hear Celestia's haunting voice. It would send chills down her spine, if she had one.
"BURN IN TARTARUS, DEMON!"
Nightmare hissed, her voice cracking as she did so. Thinking about her life, and everything she did wrong, she was rather.. sad. She was in denial, to say the least.
"Well we better get back and deal with Nightmare and her minions."
Minions? They were her loyal allies! They were her spawns! She created them! They were not minions! Wait, she was going to be dealt with? No. Nightmare didn't want to be 'dealt with'.
Nightmare blocked out the rest of their talk by putting her hooves over her ears. They were quiet for a decent while. She thought that they might've just decided not to 'deal with' her. Maybe they were 'dealing with' her Shadowbolts? Oh no. Oh nononono.. Her Shadowbolts, tortured in the afterlife?! They were all she had left!
"You know I don't think I'll ever get used to this transformation to and from."
Transformation?
"Who would?"
"Come on guys, let's take care of business."
Business? What business? Where was she going?
"First up the Shadowbolt ghosts."
What?! What's going on?! They better not be destroying their souls! She couldn't stand to hear the screams of her beloved flying squad!
There was a multitude of different in-pony (in-human) noises. She didn't know what these noises came from, but she didn't wish to find out.
"And finally the cherry on top of the sundae, Nightmare Moon,"
Now it was her turn. She was going to find out what had just happened to her precious spawns of Nightmare magic.
A loud banging sound that shook her containment could be heard. It was like an earthquake. She would have held onto something, so she simply held onto herself. There was nothing else here.
"Hey Nightmare,"
Something was talking to her. It sounded like that Ghost Buster from before. The one that called her gorgeous. Way to feed her now ever-diminishing ego.
"If you can hear us from inside there we want you to do something for us."
Nightmare hesitated. She was about to ask what the Ghost Buster wanted, but that was quickly answered.
"If you see Sombra where you're going give him our regards."
Sombra? No. She couldn't be stuck with Sombra. No. No no no. She was not going to be stuck with him. She would be a laughing stock! She would be the most easily defeated hero there was! She couldn't stand to face Sombra! But she was going to have to.
A white vortex opened at the opposite end of her containment. It's winds were rough, as she made a break in the opposite direction. The winds was stronger than her muscle-lacking form. When she was close enough to said vortex, she was about to lash out. Swears, swears upon swears would have spewed from her mouth.
She was cut off, luckily enough. She found herself in a new location. There were these alien ghosts flying everywhere. They weren't pony shaped, rather, ape shaped. They were multi-coloured and came in all different shapes and sizes. These ghosts were extremely strange. They screamed, gurgled, belched, and made rather nonsensical noises with their mouths.
Nightmare was frantic. She couldn't see her Shadowbolts anywhere. They weren't within the crowd. They weren't beside her. They weren't behind her.
"Mistress!"
She was then bombarded from above, three ponies diving onto her. Her Shadowbolts were worried about her, obviously. Just like she had been about them. Her Shadowbolts hugged her, ever so tightly. She felt appreciated, for once.
"We apologize for our failure."
Haze admitted. Nightmare thought differently.
"No. You did nothing wrong. I just.. was a bad leader. I needed a better plan. I should have done some hoof-on work myself."
Nightmare belittled herself. Something she would never do. Her allies helped her to her hooves, as the sounds of most of the spastic ghosts had silenced. Nightmare looked about. They were all looking off in one direction. Almost all of them, at least. Some just continued to fly around, yelling and screaming.
Nightmare raised a ghostly eyebrow to this. What was going on? She knew her Shadowbolts wouldn't have an answer, so she stayed put.
The ghosts, the ones who were silent, all turned their heads to look at Nightmare and her accomplices. If she had sweat glands, she would be sweating at the moment. What were these freaks looking at?
One of them waved their hands in a 'come here' motion. The crowd of ghosts started to split. Perhaps she was going to meet the boss ghost? What was the boss ghost going to look like?
The crowd only split to a small extent. So there was a small indent. Nightmare took a little while to bring herself and her company to the split in the ghosts. As she walked forward, the indent furthered as she continued walking. More and more ghosts parted for her.
She walked for what seemed to be an hour. There were millions of ghosts in here.
When the part had finally ended, she was staring out into a large, vacant space. When she had exited the split, the ghosts went back to doing whatever they were doing. That was rather strange.
Nightmare noticed something, way off in the distance. A two minutes trek brought her to what she had saw. A gray stallion, along with a crown, which had caught her attention in the first place.
This gray stallion was laying back down on the floor. His mane was basically infused into the black space, and he looked like he was missing a chunk of his head. Except for his horn. A long, rustic and red horn. Curved to a fine point.
Nightmare moved off to his left, and laid beside him. The same way he was laying.
"So, Sombra.."
Nightmare started, as her Shadowbolts got comfortable next to her.
"The Ghost Busters give their regards."
