Heart Of Equestria

Lyle Dolorem was writhing; a storm of sensations forced itself onto him in the pure darkness that he lay in. Sensations that were foreign to him replaced familiar memories, a lifetime of faux recollections washed away by sensations, anger, pride, betrayal, sadistic glee…

In reverse they came, beginning with memories of a blast of light, the brightest of blues and a great ordeal of pain.

After this came a long stretch of darkness, his vision was blind in this part of his life but he could still feel; hatred, wrongful pride, greed and anger washed over him in waves but soon those waves broke to bring more, this time of resentment, a more righteous feeling anger and even betrayal, though of who or who by he had no idea.

“No!”

The loud booming voice rivalled the CMCs ecstatic cries and he was surprised to hear it come from his own mouth. The voice echoed down a long, slightly wonky hallway leading to a large, spiked throne carved from black stone.

Finding himself inexplicably drawn to the black throne, Lyle jogged down the long hall until he finally ascended the steps to the throne and sat in it.

Sensations bombarded him, as senses of sight, touch, smell, it all came back.

He tried to move but found his body was unresponsive; he could see the world around him, he was sat in what looked a rather dark and dingy room, hooks dangling from the ceiling by chains.

In reverse they came, beginning with memories of a blast of light, the brightest of blues and a great ordeal of pain.

After this came a long stretch of darkness, his vision was blind in this part of his life but he could still feel; hatred, wrongful pride, greed and anger washed over him in waves but soon those waves broke to bring more, this time of resentment, a more righteous feeling anger and even betrayal, though of who or who by he had no idea.

He wrenched himself back to his physical being, refusing to let himself be lost to the memories; he had to find a way out of here, any other mysteries could wait for later.

Finding himself inexplicably drawn to the black throne, Lyle jogged down the long hall until he finally ascended the steps to the throne and sat in it.

Sensations bombarded him, as senses of sight, touch, smell, it all came back.

He tried to move but found his body was unresponsive; he could see the world around him, he was sat in what looked a rather dark and dingy room, hooks dangling from the ceiling by chains.

“Human! The Monarch orders your appearance!”

Lyle wished more than ever that he had control over himself so he could spit right in the speakers face; the Pegasus before him had a chaotic mane of green with yellow streaks that seemed to spike in all directions. His eyes were full of disgust as he looked at Lyle, as though he were some kind of unpleasant mess on the floor.

“I admit, I wondered when your ruler would summon me to her side, finally she has seen sense to restore me to my former glory I suspect; if you and your pitiful employees are the best she has under her wings I can’t blame her.” Whatever was using Lyle’s mouth and voice was smug and very self-assured; Lyle could feel what it felt, the knowledge that this Pegasus could not lay a hoof on him and he could say what he liked.

He had to doubt that as a truly murderous expression settled on the Pegasus’ face.

“I would mind your tongue human; just because The Monarch has ordered me to spare you for now doesn’t mean she will remain so merciful. You may wish you had not crossed me when that moment comes!” The green maned Pegasus turned to leave with an angry swish of his mane.

“Thank you that will be all Glaze.” Lyle mentally struggled to at least remove the mockery from his tone; could whatever was controlling him not see how this Pegasus was clearly dangerous.

Glaze did not respond, giving no acknowledgement of the comment other than an irritated twitch.

It was a bizarre sensation for Lyle to be moving on his feet with no control over it, he could feel and see everything but he had no control and was merely being dragged along.

He exited the room he was in, which had a door barred like a prison cell, and made his way along a metal catwalk in a mostly blackened chamber: he could vaguely hear noises of machinery beneath him and the occasional trotting of a ponies hooves but he could see virtually nothing until he exited onto a balcony where a small carriage awaited, pulled by two pegasi in matching uniforms, skintight flight suits that mixed purple and black.

Lyle wrenched himself from the black throne, unaware of how hard it had become to move physically, and only once he was off did he become aware that his body was burning with exhaustion and he desperately needed sleep.

But he forced himself to stay awake and reached out into the memories he had been ignoring, determined to finish washing away his false identity; perhaps they would reveal the truth behind whatever had happened, where he was, who was in his body and how this was even possible?

Soon enough the answers revealed themselves…

It was perhaps fortunate that no one could conceivably have shared the same area as Lyle at that time; the anguished, almost animalistic screams of fear and rage that came from him as his memories finally cleared and the full weight of his situation hit him was something that no one should ever have to hear first-hand.

****

Glaze could feel his anger bubbling as the hooded human left for his meeting with The Monarch, the insolence of such a pathetic creature, under his own roof no less. He quickened his pace down the dark steel corridor, lashing a kick at an employee on his way past, who didn’t dare object or protest.

“Sunny! Get down here; you better have made some progress on that thing!” Glaze yelled upward to a Pegasus working on a large machine in the middle of a room that resembled an assembly line.

The Pegasus landed in front of Glaze, spitting out the wrench still clutched in his mouth; his body was Glaze’s double in almost every respect, only his mane gave a clear indicator to tell them apart as red replaced the green in Glaze’s mane, with black streaks replacing yellow ones.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve got the conveyors working again and the claw can get at all of the holding cells again, it was jamming on the ones to the East. Still no idea what the hay this thing is for though.” He aimed the last sentence at Glaze with accusation in his voice.

Glaze scowled. “You never complained before now that I didn’t tell you what these do. What was it you called it. “Plausible Deniability”? It still amuses me that you think it would matter anyway; do you really think anypony would be all that shocked to find out what goes on in here?” Glaze smirked.

Sunny Chaser gave an sigh of annoyance but didn’t answer; he knew Glaze was right.

“Glad we understand each other; now look, the hooded ape has gone to meet The Monarch and hopefully get torn apart. If she’s honestly giving her time to that thing, it means we probably don’t have much time til we’re needed: how much room do we have left in the holding cells?”

Sunny nodded over to a pegasus in a lab coat and opaque goggles to bring him a clipboard and read off from it.

“Most of the Eastern Cell Block is full, Western could hold a few more but we’d be squashing ‘em in-“

“Because of course the comfort of those abominations is our top most priority.” Glaze deadpanned.

“And the Southern Block is mostly empty because of your own orders.” Sunny finished, ignoring Glaze.

“What about the underground cells; aren’t they still open?”

Sunny dropped his clipboard and glared at his brother as though he were insane.

“Glaze, don’t even joke like that. You know full well why we can’t open those tunnels anymore, it’s a miracle they’ve held this long, the cells are probably all in ruin by now and if there was ever a chance that we couldn’t secure it again then we would be practically trapped in here with-“

“Okay!” Glaze snapped in annoyance. “I get your point Sunny, no need to wet yourself little brother, just an idea was all. You can’t deny it’s tempting to throw some of those pathetic wastes down there though, maybe you and I prop up some chairs and listen with some Sweet Apple Apples to go when we have off time?” Glaze’s tone softened significantly as he imagined himself and Sunny Chaser getting time to relax again as brothers.

Sunny smiled but shook his head. “You know we won’t have time off for a while yet Glaze. Definitely gimme a raincheck though?” He held his hoof out to his brother, who bumped his own against it then trotted toward the stairs that lead to his office.

Sunny smiled; Glaze had been under considerable stress recently, at times he even resembled the stallion that had broken down when the original factory they worked in had been closed. More and more as the days passed he was resembling the brother that Sunny remembered racing against as a Colt and, as he picked up his wrench and set back to work, he found himself again re-motivated by fantasies of him and Glaze able to enjoy their time together again.

****

The Monarch was pleased as she looked upon her newest subject kneeling before her on the dark storm clouds of her kingdom. For all his objections and foolish pride, he had proved himself most effective when she needed him; though of course, a minion of his calibre would be needed for more than simple foal-napping.

Then again, as she glanced around at the crowd of ponies in the coliseum surrounding their patch of clouds, the mere fact that he could hold his murderous instincts back for more important goals made him valuable.

“You may rise my newest subject; today you have proven yourself worthy to serve under me as one of my trusted lieutenants.” The Monarch filled the coliseum with the sound of the traditional voice of royalty.

The hooded humanoid rose to his feet and continued to avert his gaze from The Monarch.

“You may now ask your Queen anything you wish, though watch your tone and any insolence shall be punished severely.” The threat was unneeded, the glare of her now black hole-esque eyes enough.

“Fine then, your majesty, I have but one question; why have you confined me to this mockery of a form? Have I not proven myself loyal to you, surely I have earned my true self after I have shown my willingness to sacrifice it?” The humans’ voice gained strength as he spoke, ignoring the gasp from around the stands.

To his and everyone else’s surprise, The Monarch nodded with an approving smile.

“Indeed, this pitiful form will see you not much further; whatever is the point of keeping for myself a servant of such magical potential without their ability to use it?” The threat of punishment for betrayal was obvious in The Monarchs voice.

The Hooded Figure honestly believed that had he not been a much dignified warrior, an exemplar to others, he may well have cheered or laughed in delight as he felt the familiar clutch of darkness encase his body, the delicious cold clutching at his heart and the writhing shadows encasing his form as he felt the remnants of his humanoid form melt away, finally freed from the prison his own body had become, free to once again lay claim to the glorious feeling of his magic.

He could feel it all rush back to him, a great wave of euphoria and bliss as his true power rushed to him once again; it had been far too long since had felt the rush of true magic through his being, the power to raze towns, to terrify and destroy, to once again establish himself as the truly indescribable feeling of becoming whole once more settled over him.

He almost felt disappointed as the flurry of feelings faded, leaving him restored as he had once been; even his armour remained as it had been in life and he noted with approval that his appearance had kept the appearance he had forged for himself after realising his true potential.

“Rise my noble warrior; you shall be a valuable addition to us. You shall be an asset to be valued for many ages.” The Monarchs voice was stoic but her eyes spoke of images of torture and death to be delivered by her newest weapon, truly the finest jewel to her collection of subjects thus far.

With a growl of approval at his restoration and a flair in the tendrils of shadow surrounding him, the pony before her met The Monarchs gaze for the first time, green eyes ablaze with glee and a renewed desire for destruction.

Lyle Dolorem could only weep as his physical state was eradicated.

In his place, King Sombra was reborn.