Chapter 12: Sweet Dreams

It had been a long day. Far, far too long for Umbra’s taste. In some ways, the day had been thrilling and delightful. She had felt the taste of true power, of strength, and the knowledge that she could make all other ponies before her kneel at her feet and crumble. Like when she had danced on the stage and brought those leering perverts to their knees, or when she had enslaved Twilight Sparkle’s boy toy.

But in other ways it had been heavy and draining. A weight around her that seemed to drain her physically, mentally, and emotionally. The contrast war between her Sombra and Umbra sides had taxed her mental fatigue almost completely. Her every limb seemed to be made of stone as she dragged them into her room.

She made a halfhearted attempt to close the door behind her, but when the latch didn’t click shut, she could not summon the energy to care. Similarly, she made a brief glance towards the wardrobe where her nightwear hung, but she could not spend the mental energy to bother to change. She threw herself onto the bed, her nostrils filled with the flowery smell of the fabric cleaner, and her body treated to the soft embrace of the mattress beneath her.

She did not even bother to crawl to her pillow before falling instantly asleep.

Umbra had a fine control over her dreams; it was a necessity when dealing with creatures like Luna who might be haunting them. So she knew when she was dreaming and, to some extent, could think within them better than most.

That was why when she first fell asleep, she noticed that her hands were no longer elegant and thin but bulky and thick. Using them, she started to explore the rest of her body. Her enormous breasts had been replaced by thick pecs, and her waspish waist had been replaced with a broad six-pack. Her hourglass form had become solid and muscular; her shoulders had become broad. Her raven hair now was shaggy and savage and fell no longer than down her neck. And between her legs was a thick, big, and long sausage-like appendage between two tennis ball-sized testicles.

He was a male again. He was a stallion again. He was Sombra again.

He snorted in frustration. Of course he would only get to experience his old self in his dreams, but to have it happen so soon after she had buried Sombra for good was simply an insult. The universe warped, to be charitable, at the exact time it would be too late to be helpful. Like finding an item just after you’d bought a replacement, so too was Sombra granted a taste of his old self only when he’d put that part of him to rest.

Still, he wasn’t ungrateful that in his dreams he could be a stallion again. That he could be the stallion he was supposed to be. He threw himself back into the abyss of the dream world, the ethereal nature of his dream like the softest of snows. He stretched his arms and his limbs out and moved them like making a snow angel in the plane of nonexistence.

There was a noise. A faint, high-pitched noise that surged through his ears like the screeching of a blackboard. It was getting closer every second, too faint to make out. Sombra didn’t know whether to cover his ears or whether to **** himself through the agony to identify whether it was a threat. That indecision kept him pinned to the ground until it came close enough to make out what it was.

Laughter. High-pitched, bone-chilling sadistic laughter. Like the laughter of Queen Chrysalis, but this was even more horrible. And it was something else. The tone, the pitch, the hint of such carnal delights behind the voice. It was stirring something in Sombra. His dick did not become erect, but it seemed to stir like a sleeping animal waking to the smell of a warm meal.

A figure could be seen in the distance. A voluptuous woman swaying her ass with the strut befitting a fetish model. Luna perhaps? No, Luna’s tits weren’t that big, and Luna’s ass was legendary. Perhaps the greatest in the world, and this figure’s ass, while impressive, could not compete with Luna's. That wasn’t to say the figure wasn’t gorgeous. Far from it, she seemed close to divine, an alicorn-level beauty who seemed to move like a sinful shadow.

It could only be—

“I was wondering if you’d figure it out.” The voice was like poisoned honey. Sweet yet sinful. Power and allure radiated with every step she took. She was the epitome of true sexual power. She was Umbra, and she was in charge.

The shock of what he was seeing kept Sombra from getting to his feet. His brain was gawking like a fish at the impossible sight before him. In that moment he forgot he was dreaming and was simply trying to make sense, any sense, he could of the impossible thing he saw before him.

His hesitation cost him, though some might say it had rewarded him. Umbra's blood-red heel, spiked and at least six inches high, pressed down on Sombra’s chest. Right in the center of his six-pack. He was pinned down. Sombra should be several times stronger than Umbra, but for some reason his limbs simply refused to move. Perhaps Umbra had pressed down on some kind of pressure point, or perhaps his body, so consumed with lust as it was, simply refused to answer.

“Look at you, such a weak, pathetic creature.” Umbra sneered, her head high and etched with smug glee. “All this posturing, all this posing as a powerful, strong, feared tyrant, and now look at you."

Sombra could feel a storm of conflicting emotions swirl around in him. Like a storm of waves crashing in each and every direction at once. Rage and indignation flamed within him at the insult, and with it an urge to break free and put this arrogant slut in her place came with it.

Yet that urge was held back by two other separate emotions. Fear and terror. Fear of displeasing this beauty, this goddess. Fear of being on the other side of her terrible and yet so alluring wrath. He both feared and wanted it, and he could feel his dick hardening and lengthening. Standing upright like a pillar, almost as tall as Umbra's shin. Sombra had seen Umbra’s beauty in the mirror, but that had been when he was in control. And more often than not, it was accompanied by expressions of disdain, resignation, and frustration. A look in the mirror could not possibly compete with seeing her from the outside, from being the one pressed under her heel.

Umbra noticed Sombra’s growing cock and chuckled darkly. A chain formed in her hand, just like it had done for Flash Sentry. A blood red chain that she held in her fist and connected to Sombra’s body, but this time Umbra wasn’t intending to wrap it around Sombra’s neck. Instead, the sickly blood-red magic formed a cock ring around his phallus. It squeezed. Hard. Hard enough that Sombra could not stop a wheeze escaping his throat, even as Umbra condescendingly stroked the tip of his mast.

“Ohh… did you not expect that? Does that feel bad? Unable to cum? Well, that’s too bad, because that dick’s mine now, not yours. It will cum when I say it will cum, and not a moment sooner.” Umbra sneered, relishing every grunt that came out of Sombra’s lips. “Aww… do you want to cum? Well, I’m in control now; I’m the real us. Sombra is dead; you buried him yourself, and you know what? Good riddance, I say.”

The words hurt; they hurt far more personally than Sombra could have possibly expected. Perhaps because the words were technically coming from his own mouth, and that meant he believed them on some level. Perhaps in truth he didn’t need to hear them from Umbra; he knew that was the truth at some level.

But Umbra had no intention on being soft with her words, nor dancing around the truth. She would say the truth and would relish in the brutality of brutal honesty.

“Sombra never achieved anything, my friend. You were a failure as Sombra. How many years did you spend in dusty old libraries? How many years of grueling training did you spend training yourself to fight, pushing your body and your magic to its ultimate magical limit? Five? Ten? Maybe twenty years if we include all the time you LARPed as a big shot villain. And where did it get you?” Umbra squatted down, her magical chain still firmly in her hand, and soon she formed another two. One would form a collar around his horn, another around his neck. For the first time Sombra felt what his many slaves felt to be restricted by this collar. It was tight, restrictive magic that felt as cold as ice and as strong as steel, little different than a normal iron collar were it not for the cackling magical surges that radiated from his neck like electricity.

“NOTHING!” Umbra sneered, yanking the three chains. Sombra’s dick felt like it had been squeezed by a giant while his head was thrown forwards. “Nothing but a thousand years as a frozen little popsicle and an embarrassing defeat at the hands of a runt of a dragon. Is that all you have to show for your years of training?”

“I was once the most feared tyrant Equestria had ever seen. I had the entire Crystal Empire under my heel. Thousands of ponies were my slaves. Ponies everywhere feared my name!” He shouted in indignation. He was thrashing his head from side to side, as if he could somehow shake away the rising acidic feeling of humiliation rising in his stomach.

"Oh, how quaint. Do they fear you now, little boy? Does scary old Sombra haunt their dreams going ‘HO, HO, HO?'” Umbra threw her head back in vicious laughter.

Sombra wanted to scream, shout, or perhaps strangle this bitch that stood on top of him. But he couldn’t, and not only because he was pinned down. His muscles refused to move; his every survival instinct told him to keep silent and accept the humiliation. Like how one resisted the urge to strangle their boss because they knew the consequences. That analogy was apt, because it meant that Sombra had to admit one thing.

Umbra was in charge. She had the power, and he served at her pleasure.

“Nothing to say, boy? The truth hurts, doesn’t it?" Umbra leaned forward, running a sharp blood-red fingernail down Sombra’s cheek. “Because you know the truth, don’t you? That deep, deep down you know that you’re weak and useless and that I’M the one who’s going to take us places.”

Sombra wanted to protest, but not a single retort came to his lips. He was **** to settle for rolling his head to the left and looking away.

“Face it, little boy, in a few short hours I’ve achieved more than you have in a lifetime. I’m going to places, making my way to the top. I’ve already lured Cadance into my trap. The princess of love herself was reduced to a mewling, submissive skank. She's a goddess, and she now begs to serve at my feet. Tell me, little boy, were any of your slaves as impressive as that?”

At first Sombra tried to not answer, but a painful yank on the cock snapped him from his hesitation. “Speak.”

“No, no, alright!” Sombra admitted, his pride battling to keep the pathetic tears out of his eyes. “Nothing I did was anything like that.”

“Good, honesty. It truly is an element of friendship.” Umbra said, her voice dripping with condensation as she leaned down and pressed a finger to his lips. “And it’s not just her I’ve enslaved, is it? But Twilight’s little boy toy as well. Just imagine if I were the one in charge a few years ago, when we returned.”

Umbra chuckled in dark laughter as the walls of Umbra’s dream started to change. It became the days just after the Crystal Empire had returned from its frozen prison. When Twilight and her friends had first arrived to find the crystal heart.

But in this vision he saw herself through Umbra’s eyes, an alternate past where Umbra had been the one to return. “Do you think I would have been so foolish as you as to simply attempt to storm the gates of that palace? To simply barrel towards the Crystal Palace as a storm of shadows? No, my strategy would have been so much more delicate.”

Sombra saw Twilight Sparkle burst into the room that held the crystal heart, but instead of a vision of her worst fears, what she and her dragon saw instead was Umbra, straight out of their finest wet dreams. “I wouldn’t have wasted my time trying to scare those fools; I would have simply seduced them. Prayed on their intrinsic fetishes, their lust for my body, their nature as submissive fools. I would have them eating out of my hand and sucking on my tits."

The visions around Sombra shifted to images of Spike and Twilight suckling at Umbra’s tits. Eyes looking up at Umbra with submissive adoration. “Of course I wouldn’t stop with just them. Once Twilight was sufficiently under my spell, I would have had her bring her friends to be enslaved by her. A friendly favor for them, I’m sure, and then they’d be mine as well. And then there’s Cadance and Shining Armor.”

The scene around them changed, now becoming one of Umbra lounging on the crystal throne, her rule of the Crystal Empire undisputed. Cadance and Twilight were at her feet, kissing her feet as Shining Armor lapped at her pussy. In Umbra’s hands, she held a total of nine chains, each collaring one of the princesses and Twilight's friends. She had won, and she had done it; she had triumphed, and good had lost. Where once evil had lost. Where Sombra had lost.

“You see, little man?” Umbra purred, bending forward and resting her hands on her knee, her heel remaining squarely and immovably on Sombra’s chest. “That’s power. That’s true power. To make your enemies bow at your feet without raising a finger or casting a spell. It’s a power I have in spades, and you don’t have a shred of it."

Sombra wished he could deny it, that he could come up with any sort of retort at all, but he couldn’t deny these simple facts. He had no idea if what Umbra showed him was what could have happened or what would have happened. But he couldn’t help but think there was truth to Umbra’s words.

“And now look at you. Who could fear you?” Umbra sneered, relishing every insulting word that came out of her mouth. “They joke about you in the streets. They lust after you, make porn about you, dress their women like you. Do you think people who did that ever feared you? Do you think you ever stalked their nightmares? Tch…” Umbra started tutting and shaking her magnificent head. “So pathetically naive. Wake up, fool; they never feared you.”

“S-shut up… y-you don’t understand.” Sombra said, unable to keep the **** pleading out of his voice. He was like a snivelling child.

Umbra’s laughter was a deep, husky, and quiet chuckle, but it rang in Sombra’s ears like it was a huge crowd jeering. He shook his head from side to side, **** to wake up from this nightmare.

"Oh, but I do. You’re nothing, Sombra; you’re weak, powerless, a failure. And you always will be!” Umbra declared, her smile wide enough to show fangs.

“NO!”

“That’s enough Umbra.” The voice wasn’t loud. Neither screaming nor shouting, but it still held a polite undercurrent of firmness to her voice that made Umbra hesitate.

Umbra did not take her heel off of Sombra’s chest as she turned to the intruder. Standing there was none other than Radiant Hope coming to her rescue. She was no longer wearing the same Umbra cosplay that she was wearing before but instead an elegant, albeit modest, blue dress as she marched towards Umbra.

“Are you defending him, Radiant Hope? Really? Don’t lie and pretend you’re not several times more attracted to me than you ever were to him.” Umbra sneered at Radiant Hope. “Even looking at me now must have you gushing.”

“I want to talk to Sombra alone.” Sombra had never seen the fire in her eyes or the dangerous undercurrent in her voice. Could the real Radiant Hope do that?

Umbra shrugged, stepping off of Sombra. Slowly the feeling to his limbs returned, and in their place was an aching pain. The dream was so vivid he could feel all his senses within him; it was a part of being half-umbrum. His kind had always dreamed differently from ponies; it was what allowed some immunity to Luna’s magic.

“As you wish, sweetie. But I expect some due compensation later.” Umbra said, her voice dripping with false sweetness as she walked away, hips swaying like a snake’s. Eventually she disappeared into the nothingness of the dream, but Sombra could still feel her eyes on them. This was as much Umbra’s dream as it was Sombra’s, and there was nothing happening inside that she could not see.

Sombra, meanwhile, had eyes for one thing only. And those were the kind, patient, and ever so beautiful eyes of Radiant Hope as she offered a hand to Sombra. Out of her Umbra cosplay, Radiant Hope wasn’t as sexy as she was before, but she was so much more beautiful. Despite Sombra’s evil heart, there was still a part of him that preferred her like this. Pure beauty rather than sinful sexiness.

“Do you want a hand?” She asked, so patient and kind. But Sombra waved off her hand.

“I don’t need help.” It was only half-true, because it wasn’t easy to push through the pain and **** himself upright. The two sat down next to each other; the dream formed seats of misty nothingness that still made for comfortable sitting.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Radiant Hope asked, her eyes ever so patient. How she could be so patient was just one of her many, many mysteries that Sombra had never quite understood.

Sombra tried to say no, but the way that Radiant Hope looked at him made it impossible to reject or ignore her completely. So instead he looked for a way to change the subject and found one.

“You’re—you're not a dream.” He said slowly as he squinted into Radiant Hope. He had assumed that he had merely dreamed this illusion of Radiant Hope before, but now looking at her, he realized that this was no illusion. She was too vivid, even for his dreams. There was not even a trace of a whisper or a single imperfection.

“Oh.” Radiant Hope said, momentarily surprised. "Yeah, I guess I’m not.”

“Then how are you here? You couldn’t possibly—unless you were part alicorn all this time and never told me?”

“Of course not, silly. No, it was Luna who made this possible.” Radiant Hope said, smiling with delight.

“Luna? But she’s in Canterlot, isn’t she? Why would she—" Sombra asked, frowning in confusion. He couldn’t help but be worried; the last thing he needed was another alicorn princess in the Crystal Empire.

“Oh yes, but you see when I fell asleep tonight I couldn’t help but worry about you. You were so scared and confused and angry before, and I couldn’t find you before.” Sombra couldn’t help but feel guilty. He normally didn’t care for the opinions of others, but Radiant Hope was the one exception.

“I’m sorry.” He admitted, as quietly as possible. As if his apology were like confessing some dark secret.

"Oh, don’t worry about it; I should be the one who’s sorry. I thought you were having fun at the strip club, but it seems that I was wrong.” Radiant Hope said, her voice filled with a guilt that Sombra. Of all ponies, only Radiant Hope could inspire any sympathy in Sombra. Perhaps because she had been the only source of comfort in those long years growing up in the orphanage. “But when I was dreaming that night, I was anxious. Anxious enough that Luna picked up on it. And when I admitted I was worried about you, she offered to link our dreams and send me here.”

There was a pause for a moment as Sombra digested this information. Eventually Radiant Hope spoke up. “I’m really sorry, Sombra; I would have stopped it if I knew you weren’t having fun. But you seemed to be enjoying yourself.”

“It was fun though.” Sombra admitted, his head hung in shame. “It was a complete thrill. It made me feel powerful, wanted, in charge. I was enjoying myself. I was having fun. But that was exactly the problem, Radiant.”

“What do you mean?” Radiant Hope’s eyes were wide with concern, but Sombra could sense her patient confusion.

“I’m not supposed to be Umbra, Radiant!” Sombra cried, his frustrations now being laid bare on his sleeves. Angry tears welling up in his eyes in spite of his earlier attempts to repress them. “All of Umbra, everything about her—the power, the tits, the sex appeal, the domination—all of it was given to me by Discord. It’s not supposed to be me; it’s all part of a cruel fucking joke!”

Sombra hung his head, his hands gripping the flesh of his knees so tightly that they became red. “He must be laughing his head off now. Knowing that I’m not only accepting this humiliation but also coming to enjoy it! What a perfect punchline for this sick joke.”

“Maybe he only pretended to be joking.” Radiant Hope suggested. Sombra turned his head around at her as if she had just grown an extra head.

“What do you mean?”

“You know that Discord is a former villain himself, right? He knows what it’s like to be feared, to enjoy having people tremble before him.” Radiant Hope’s voice was like that of a diplomat. Elegantly designed to avoid sounding as condescending or insulting as possible.

“Well yeah, maybe he used to.” Sombra conceded, frowning. “Until he fell head over heels for that big boobed Pegasus.

“That very kind and sweet Pegasus.” Radiant Hope gently corrected him, but Sombra merely snorted. Anyway, perhaps because he really enjoys being good rather than evil, maybe he wants the same for you. Maybe he didn't think of this as a cruel joke but as an opportunity. A way to break free of the crimes of your old life and become a new pony."

"But I don't want to break free of my old life." Sombra growled; if his grip on his thighs became any tighter, he was afraid he might start tearing flesh out of them. “I used to be a pony that was feared, that was respected. I was a creature that would cause nightmares, a terror to frighten even the bravest of ponies, a… a legend.”

Sombra swallowed, remembering what Umbra had said before. “At least I was supposed to be.”

Sombra's gaze shifted from her knees to look to the horizon of the dream world. The shapes of his subconscious began to shift to become cruel, careless ponies, laughing at his expense. Insultingly happy, insultingly at ease. Not afraid, not worried. They didn’t fear him; they didn’t respect him; they didn’t even care about him.

"But now look at me; I'm nothing but a joke at best. I have been forgotten." Sombra sighed; he no longer had the energy to be angry and had to settle for melancholy. Two comforting arms reached around his shoulders and pulled him in close. Sombra hated to admit it, but it felt good, comforting. Like Radiant Hope was helping lift the weight of his shame and defeat from his shoulders.

"Not to me. I'd never forget you, Sombra," Radiant Hope promised. It was at least some small crumb of comfort that Sombra could rely on, but it was much better than nothing.

"Thank you, Radiant Hope, but you're just one pony." Sombra said, trying not to sound dismissive. But it was a simple truth: Radiant Hope was his childhood friend, close to being his sister, or possibly so much more than that. But that made her opinion worthless, like a mother's reassurances. Meaningless in the grand scheme of things.

"Well." Radiant Hope huffed in annoyance. It seemed she had taken offense after all. "I happen to know there are a lot of ponies who remember you. After all, why do you think I dress like you every night? Did you not notice the crowd I drew? The crowd you yourself drew?"

"That's different," Sombra said, his voice no louder but now becoming a snarl. "They lusted over you; they were aroused by you. They didn't fear you. They didn't serve you."

"I think—"

"I'm meant to be the greatest and most feared pony of all time!" Sombra started, storming to his feet and away from Radiant Hope's grasp. "I am meant to make nations tremble! I am meant to have armies serving me because they know better than to refuse me! I am meant to be the terror that keeps Luna awake at night! The fear that puts hesitation into Celestia's heart! Now I am nothing! NOTHING! But a useless whore."

Sombra wiped his eyes, unsure of exactly when he'd started crying. The tension had become thick, and Radiant Hope's patience was serving her again as she waited for Sombra to calm down. Sombra could feel his shoulders sagging, his every breath coming out of his body as small, **** pants. His vision was fading, and despite all the muscle in his legs, he could feel them wobble.

Radiant Hope waited in case Sombra had anything else to get off his chest, but when his knees gave out and he collapsed to the ground, she got up and knelt before him. Sombra could not keep the tears off his face. Before anything else could be said, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in close.

“Hey there, Sombra. It’s okay, it’s okay. Just let it all out.” Sombra has never had a mother, but it was times like this when Radiant Hope could provide all the comfort of one. “It’s not as bad as you think.”

“Not as bad?” Sombra asked incredulously. “Radiant Hope, I’m a failure. A complete, utter failure. My legend is over.”

“Perhaps.” Radiant Hope admitted softly. “But that doesn’t mean you’re a failure, Sombra. All legends must come to an end, and as much of a feared legend that you were, Sombra, you are no different.”

Sombra let out an exhausted sigh. It was a cruel truth, but by accepting it he could feel a great weight lift from his bones. As if he had been carrying around poison that had just been extracted from his blood.

“Damn it.” He gasped, his voice no louder than a whisper.

"Yes, but that does not mean that Sombra is forgotten. You are still a mark on the history books; you will still be remembered by historians and scholars throughout time. It may be time to let Sombra go, but that doesn’t mean you will be forgotten.”

The reassurance did help calm Sombra a little, but he couldn’t quite say that he was happy or okay. The wavering in his voice made that very clear to Radiant Hope. "But what should I do now?"

"Your legacy as Sombra could continue, but not in you. Find someone to pick up your torch and continue to rule as the iron-dicked tyrant that you once were. Just like Celestia did with Twilight? Your legacy could be your student.”

“Iron-dicked?” Sombra asked with an air of amusement surfacing from beneath his despair.

Radiant Hope had the good grace to look guilty. “I mean, that’s part of the fun, isn’t it? You're conquering us, dominating us, and fucking us. I mean, what’s the point of the whole tyrant game if you don’t get to relax and take a harem of beautiful mares to serve you?”

Sombra raised an eyebrow at Radiant Hope and noticed the sweet unicorn was blushing bright red. “What is wrong with this empire?"

Radiant Hope giggled. “You know exactly what’s wrong with us, don’t you? You know exactly the appeal, don’t you? I mean, I know you like to conquer women like us, but you also want a stallion to conquer this empire, don’t you?”

Radiant Hope was becoming somewhat feverish with lust the more she talked, and Sombra could tell that she was getting carried away with the fantasy. But he did have to admit that there may be some truth to her words. When he’d been Umbra, at least he had understood that desire to be conquered, to serve an iron-dick master.

His thoughts drifted back to Shining Armor and to the lewd fantasies that slut Cadance had written about. Hadn’t he, as Umbra, fantasized just a little bit about doing exactly that? Of being the mistress of the harem? Ordered to break in the sluts, to make them submit, to make them serve? Dominant, powerful, but still serving someone else. Was that really so bad? A part of him didn’t think so.

Something about what he was feeling must have slipped onto his face, because Radiant Hope was smiling now. Like a kitten who had made her master smile. “You see? It’s not so bad. You could be happy helping someone else take that position of becoming that legacy. Of making someone else that tyrant king.”

Radiant Hope was getting daring now; her soft hand was making its way to Sombra’s meaty dick. Slowly stroking it, summoning the blood to harden it. Her eyes were silently begging for Sombra’s permission, and he was giving it every step of the way.

“So find a successor; have him take my place. And mold him, mold him into a tyrant like me. To continue my legacy?” Sombra said, as much to himself as to Radiant Hope, as he mulled it over in his mind.

“Yes, yes, if that’s what you want, of course.” Radiant Hope said, beaming with happiness and hope. “You could corrupt him as his right hand. Teach him to embody the sexy tyrant you were and learn to be like you. Your legacy will be your protégé.”

Sombra threw his head back, pleasure coursing through his blood as he considered the proposition. He was looking at what could be called the ‘sky’ of the dream. It was like the northern lights, illuminating shades of wispy light that danced through the heavens.

But as he came closer and closer to a climax, the sky above him began to change. As if he were an angel coming down from the heavens to give him his divine mission. The skies began to form into the shape of none other than Shining Armor himself. But it wasn’t the version of the stud that Sombra knew; it was the version of him as Cadance imagined him.

Dominant, powerful, almost cruel, but able to know how to take care of his slaves. He knew that they existed to serve him; he wasn’t afraid to punish them should they step out of line. He knew he was in charge, knew the world should serve at his feet. He wasn’t afraid to use them for their purpose.”

He shivered and then he came under Radiant Hope’s handjob. His thick drops of cum came shooting out of his dick much to her enjoyment.

“So what do you say, Sombra? Does that sound like a good way to honor your legacy?” Radiant Hope asked, smiling with pride at seeing Sombra start to smile.

"Yes, it does. I think you’re right, Radiant Hope. Time for a new generation to take up my dark torch.” Sombra started to frown. “But tell me honestly, Radiant Hope, why does nobody fear me anymore?”

Radiant Hope was smiling, but that smile had become amused and exasperated. She shook her head in sympathy. “You need only watch the movies they made of you to understand.”

Right. Those movies. The ones those kids had been talking about. Radiant Hope didn’t need to say another word for Sombra to get a general idea of the problem. The damn frauds making those movies would need to be taught firsthand by Umbra what happened when you mocked the dark lord.

“I’ll consider it.” He said, but the growl in his voice made it sound more like a threat.

As he stewed in his anger and fury, Radiant Hope placed a soft, calming hand on his thigh and smiled at him. “I’m afraid my time is almost up, Sombra; it’s almost been the whole night, and I can feel myself starting to awaken soon. But can we meet again, perhaps some time tomorrow? Face-to-face, I mean, rather than through these dreams.

"Of course, Radiant Hope." Sombra said, and now he was smiling. A sincere, warm smile that so rarely came across his face these days spread across his face. "I'm looking forward to it."

The warm smile that spread across her face was something that Sombra couldn't help but treasure. But the smile didn’t last long, for she quickly faded out of Sombra’s sight. Most likely, she returned to her own dreams, or perhaps she had simply awakened.

Sombra sat once more in his dreamscape; only now could he appreciate how beautiful they could be. Like sunsets on a beautiful evening, he felt a sense of calm and detachment come over him.

“She really is a beautiful woman, Radiant Hope.”

That voice—it could only be one pony. But she held none of the same malice that she held before, none of the same suffocating dread, nor the same lustful malice. She still towered over Sombra so that her shadow loomed over him, but there was no domineering marching to accompany it.

“She’s a beautiful pony.” Umbra said, her voice much more neutral than it had been before. None of the sneer or superiority that had previously accompanied it. “She’ll make an excellent **** for our Master’s harem.”

Sombra said nothing; he could not pretend that he disagreed with her logic. Nor could he not secretly appreciate the idea of the two of them working together as chief enforcers for their master. The carrot and the stick, but admitting to Umbra that he was accepting that fate was something he wasn’t quite prepared to do yet.

"Oh, I can see our great minds think alike, don’t they? You’ve also been thinking what I’ve been thinking. We could be the enforcer, while she could be the sweetener. The one who entices them with promises of bliss and luxury in order to join our Master’s empire.”

Sombra was nodding, barely thinking now as Umbra continued to speak. He knew somehow that every word she said was right or something he agreed with. They were the same pony after all.

“If nothing else.” Sombra admitted quietly. “I’m sure Shining Armor would like to have both of you at the same time.”

Umbra grinned, and Sombra allowed himself a weak smile. “I imagine he would, just as any red-blooded stallion with a dick that big would want. He just needs to be honest with himself and accept his destiny. We’ll need to wear down his defenses. It’ll take time, but I’m sure there’s a dominant master in there who will conquer all with—what did Radiant Hope call it? - Ah yes, his iron dick. A nice iron-dicked tyrant who will rule the Crystal Empire forever. Mmm… I’m getting wet just thinking about it. And of course when our master isn’t around to please, she could always be put to work pleasing me. On those dark, dreary nights when we need stimulation and pleasure. Why I could imagine her pretty tongue servicing our cunt quite well.”

Sombra listened to her ramble, nodding all the while. He remembered being Umbra, of wanting all of this deep down. He could no longer pretend it was all because of Discord’s magic or simply because of Umbra. There was certainly a part of himself that wanted this just as much as Umbra did.

As such, this might be the last chance to say something as Sombra ever again.

“Umbra.” His voice was firm and serious. It seemed that Umbra could sense that, for she stopped talking almost immediately. “You may be a part of me; I accept that now. You might even be a part of me that I can’t live without or a part that I love. But know this, no matter how far we go with your plans, no matter how many you enslave, there will still be a part of you that remains me, that remains Sombra.”

Umbra merely looked at him curiously, so he continued. “You won’t erase me completely; whether it’s in your memories or in our nature, there will be some part of us that will remain Sombra.”

To his surprise, Umbra laughed, but not that condescending laugh he had heard earlier, nor was she sneering or gloating. Instead, it seemed more gentle, in the same sort of tone that Radiant Hope would use. Was she changing as Sombra’s own thoughts changed?

“But of course. I wouldn’t want anything less. This destiny I pursue, it’s for the both of us. It’s something we both want. The power that will come from our position, all our enemies bowing at our feet, reduced to sex slaves to serve our master. We will humiliate those who wronged us and have our **** and our legacy. I assure you, Sombra, I will not be the only one of us to embrace this new future we are creating together.”

Sombra stared at her, trying to discern if she was deceiving him. Yet her face showed no sign of deceit or deception that Sombra could discern. And Sombra had all too much experience being surrounded by the deceitful that he had learned how to pick up on deceit.

Umbra placed a hand on Sombra’s shoulder and looked him in the eye. It was strange how sometimes the tiniest of differences could make those blood red eyes so much less threatening. Almost reassuring in a way.

“I never wanted to replace you. And I still don’t. We’re one and the same, Sombra; my victories are your victories. My power is your power. My happiness is your happiness.”

She was so very different from how she was talking before. Perhaps Radiant Hope had changed Sombra’s mind, which had in turn changed this version of Umbra. Caused his dreams to change somehow, by accepting he had caused her to change. She was a part of his mind after all.”

“I suppose that’s the best I can ask for.” Sombra said, smiling somewhat awkwardly.

“Good night, Umbra.” He added somewhat clumsily.

“Good night, Sombra. I assure you that there will be many sweet dreams to come.” She turned on her heel, hand brushing against Sombra’s cheek as she did so. She walked into the ether of Sombra’s dream, tail swishing and ass swaying with a hypnotic allure that could bring any pony to their knees.

And with that Sombra awoke.