A labyrinth stretched out before the travelers, like a thick haze that grew thicker the closer they ventured. Sombra led the small party of Beatrix Belladonna and Bellatrix Primadonna at his sides while Somnambula took up the rear to guard their backs. Stars swirled through the cosmos though thankfully, the air was breathable.

All of them were aware this was but one of the many dimensions within the pages of the Necronomicon. The walls around them loomed, carved of solid stone, a ceiling closing them in.

“Kind of nostalgic, actually,” noted Beatrix with a grin. “Like that one time, I was in a minotaur's maze! Shame, none of you were with me during the time. Would have been way more fun!” Her expression changed to melancholy as she traced the cold wall, the interior enshrouded in deep shadows. “You should feel right at home, teacher. All this darkness around us. Like that time, we battled in the depths of the Necronomicon.”

“Aye, that was... another lifetime ago, it seems,” replied Sombra, who turned to study the angel.

Bellatrix stood with her arms crossed and met his gaze with a calm expression. “You both saved me. Without you, I would have remained a wandering, aimless monster until the day I died, likely another victim to be experimented on by the Eldritch. You two are the world to me.” She pursed her lips, struggling to admit her feelings openly, thinking it far too sappy of her.

Beatrix threw her arms around them and snuggled them both with a laugh. “Cheer up, Sis! We're all together again, free to love and conquer whatever stands in our way. Hey, Sommy! you want some of this?”

The Sphinx chuckled with a shake of her head. “Do not mind me. My concern is simply for our welfare, dear Cerise Silhouette, and the creature that spirited her away. It was touched by the dark arts like you, Sombra. Its mind and spirit were warped beyond recognition. I fear that, like you claimed to have done in that other dimension, this being shall-”

“Seize control of the Necronomicon's interior and manipulate the dimensions inside to its own ends,” finished Sombra with a dark look. “I'm surprised this hasn't already begun as we speak. Makes me wonder if the Demiurge melds with its new, potential ally.” His boots echoed with each step, having summoned up a sword sheathed at his hip and silver armor complete with a crimson cape that trailed after him.

“There isn't time to waste then. We must complete the maze as soon as possible,” answered Somnambula, who padded behind them in the narrow corridors. “I overcame the former Sphinx's riddles several times, and have inherited her knowledge on top of my own. I do not mean to indulge in hubris, yet I also have faith that working together, we may overcome any challenge.” She steeled herself in determination, slit eyes narrowed, glowing in the dark and reflecting off Bellatrix's natural ethereal radiance.

Quickly they arrived at the first crossroads. “We don't exactly have the numbers to split up,” muttered Beatrix to herself, who scratched her chin. “Unlike last time where we had Starlight Glimmer, who could teleport us away. Or help from the Smooze! Without him, I've felt pretty vulnerable ever since,” she continued to nervously ramble to herself.

“Stay focused,” gently chided Sombra, who cupped her cheek and made her flush, her heart skipping. He returned a sly smirk. “There are few who can master the teleportation spell. Thankfully, it only took me a few years to get it right, just in case something like that should happen again.”

Bellatrix quirked a brow. “Why not simply fetch whoever we need, then, before we undertook this journey?”

“That would take time, which Cerise may not have. I would have to negotiate with anyone who might aid us. And in truth, while I might claim mastery, such a spell takes time to recharge after each cast and puts an enormous strain on me,” he confessed with a certain bitterness. "I come upon the limitations of this form. Taking on permanent flesh for my rebirth weakened me.”

“Beats being a cheap smoke monster. Lord knows Inky would be miserable without having her physical husband to claim her~” chided Beatrix with a wink, trying to stir him up for old time's sake.

He chuckled at her tease, then turned serious again. “I see no visible difference between these paths, other than the runes.” He started to read what words he could aloud in an alien tongue, and Somnambula joined in, filling in the blanks.

“This way.” Somnambula pointed a path towards the left. She now took the lead, wary of what they might encounter on the way, be it unspeakable monstrosities or traps. “Spirits guide us,” she whispered in prayer, having taken the more difficult route of the two, sensing that it would eventually lead them to the exit...if they survived the tests to come.

From the walls opened a pair of eyes, watching them intently, following each movement. They rested on Somnambula in particular, sensed an old kinship between them, now lost with what the creature had become in a state somewhere between life-and-death. It also sensed the darkness within Sombra, wishing to swallow it up and claim it for its own.

In the bountiful gardens below the Badlands, a pastel paradise stretched wherever one looked, littered with exotic, oversized fruits and vegetables, and partially tamed wildlife that thrived in the vast greenery. The sun somehow shined down below, the rush of waterfalls echoing in the distance, turning into rivers that ran through the spacious arena.

Most of the inhabitants didn't bother to wear clothing, choosing a more naturist lifestyle, those closest to their former Dragon Lord, Spike, doing their best to maintain the utopia he'd set out to create. Twilight Sparkle, Ember, and Smolder were at the head of his lands, a number of his offspring inheriting various portions and setting up their own tightly-knit clans.

Twilight Sparkle sat her plush bottom on the riverbank, letting her feet dangle into the calm, sparkly waters. She flexed her wings, enjoying the breeze and the sunlight caressing her completely bared form, her exclusive diary opened in her lap where she exchanged notes with Sunset Shimmer. “I hope the Dazzlings are behaving,” she wrote with her quill dipped in ink.

“They've been fine,” came the reply from Sunset, the words materializing on the page. “They're still working on their band, running odd jobs on the side, and I've been helping out after... you know.” She didn't like to talk about Adagio's loss, nor the Eldritch who had caused them all so much grief. Instead, they simply tried to put those dark times far behind them.

Twilight sighed and paused in her reply, remembering her own part in all that. Her meddling with the dark arts, Starlight Glimmer conditioned to be a tool of the enemy.... Best not to focus on that. She watched a number of her friends enjoy the fruits of their victory all those many years ago, Tree Hugger lounging nude with Fluttershy who she fed strawberries to, Rarity and Sweetie Belle bathing together, splashing and giggling. “It's peaceful as ever here,” she scrawled back.

No sooner did she speak when an ear-splitting roar reverberates throughout, causing a number of those who lazed about to shriek and cower in a panic. Leaving a hasty farewell to Sunset, Twilight was instantly on her feet, horn flaring with a prepared barrier spell to challenge whatever was to come. “Wait...Spike?!” Her ears flicked, barely able to believe it.

Yet the roars were so familiar, shaking the area, the titan thundering closer. She was met by Ember and Smolder, who landed at her sides, both garbed in armor and carrying weapons. “It's him,” said Ember. “Our plan worked.”

“Impossible,” cried Twilight, who didn't want to get her hopes up. “It should take centuries, at least!”

“We saw 'em ourselves,” said Smolder, who rested a hand on a muscular hip. “Trouble is, he's not exactly aware at the moment. We gotta try and calm him down, somehow. He's tearing apart the rock above, trying to claw his way in!”

Twilight swallowed, realizing the lava could leak into her, killing hundreds. She knew he'd never intentionally harm them, but he'd been reduced to a bestial state, all instinct and raw emotion. “Fleur de Lis,” she called to the head of her soldiers, and the unicorn strode over with a sway of her wide hips, naked as the day she was born. “Escort everyone you can to safety.”

Fleur saluted them. “Leave it to me.” She turned and rushed in, quelling the pandemonium and organizing them as Fancy Pants once had, not bothering to waste time fetching her clothes. Her long legs moved with unmatched grace, and she tossed back her silky mane, the smooth globes of her buttocks swaying with a ripple of bare flesh with each calculated movement.

With no time to waste, Twilight took the dragonesses by their claws and blinked away in a flash. They resurfaced amid the hellish wastes above, although to the dragons, she knew this was preferable. She choked on the grayish-black smoke, tearing up her eyes, the waves of heat making sweat begin to build on her skin, reminding her of how naked she was.

She cast a spell to summon up a simple tunic with a skirt and sandals, weaved another spell to make the atmosphere around her radius more bearable, swishing aside ash and vapors with a beat of her wings. Her stare settled on the muscular behemoth ahead of them, the hulking brute of a dragon matching Torch, scales gleaming while he clawed through rocks, tossing them about. Cautiously she sailed closer with the duo, watching him snort and snarl, desperate to burrow in.

Aware that he could bring down the surface at any moment, she approached the hulk of a drake, who was like family to her...

Goosebumps prickled all over Cerise Silhouette's skin, through her thin black coat of fur, the stone slab of the altar cold upon her slender back. Her captor had chained her by the wrists and ankles, stripped her nude, and left her in the dark. Her breasts rose and fell with each sucking breath, nipples stiff in the eerie, whistling wind that passed through the chamber.

Her bright pink eyes widened, seeing the creature poised in the shadows, a phantasmal stallion surrounding in a series of writhing black tendrils, a horn jutting from its forehead, its eyes like sunken white pits. Its wispy mane and tail rolled behind it like a cold fire, its demonic plumage widened to fullness, like it was poised to consume its prey.

“H-Hello?” Her squeaky voice echoed about the room. “Please, if you can understand me-”

The abomination swirled with the dark arts like this was a mere shell composed of energies drawn from the abyss itself. Even while it loomed over her in a predatory fashion, eager to siphon the darkness within her, she sensed the stallion that lay buried inside, lost, and detached. “I am called the Pony of Shadows,” it stated. “You can relax, little one. I will not harm you as long as you draw the others here.”

“You mean my father?” She gulped, hopeful that he'd rescue her, but fearing what might happen if he tried.

“Yes... His power will add to my own. And.. perhaps yours. I sense raw darkness within your soul. And it is very delicious.” His empty gaze trailed over her, taking little interest in her body, instead concerned with the essence that animated her. “You don't have any idea how unique you are, do you? Haha, I suppose fair; I doubt he comprehends, either~.”

“W-What do you mean? I'm just a dancer.” She turned her head aside. “Nobody important, not really.”

“And yet, you could be! There is so much potential, you're vessel is dripping with it! Given time and the opportunity.” Portions of her skin and coat started to glow a hot pink neon again, lighting up the dungeon, the gray stonework illuminated by dancing spots of color she cast. “When Pacific Glow was seeded by Sombra, he infected her womb with part of his dark essence. It altered you long before birth! And on your mother's deathbed, her soul transferred to yours, mixing together and creating a hybrid between her and what you were meant to be.”

Cerise struggled to take all this in. “You're saying I'm a partial reincarnation of Pacific Glow...?”

“Precisely. So much raw power, and you don't even understand how to wield it. Sombra may believe he mastered the darkness, but I shall debase him of that notion. And I shall have my vengeance on her...the last of the Pillars,” he stated with finality, his eyes staring at the drab walls, more speaking to himself, his thoughts trailing obsessively over past wrongs.

She whispered, “You mean Somnambula? You knew her?” She rattled in her binds. Realizing he intended to sacrifice her, subjecting her to a fate likely far worse than death as her soul was consumed, she couldn't help but a whimper, teary-eyed.

He shuffled about the dungeon, ignoring her, savoring the moment he enacted his vengeance.

“Bah! This vessel has reached its limit. You will have to do... until someone far more worthy is within my grasp~.” The creature's form dissipated into a wispy smoke cloud, and she huffed when it enveloped her, slowly flowed into every opening it could find. She writhed and panted, broke out in a cold sweat, dotted in goosebumps, and shaken by an unnatural chill that bit into the marrow of her bones.

Within moments she and the entity were united as one. The binds around her wrists and ankles broke, and Cerise Silhouette rose with a malicious smile, the earth pony mare trapped inside and forced to watch her body manipulated like a marionette. "Oh yes... this form will do very nicely for the time being~" It purred through her voice while taking a moment to fill up its new body before a whimpering sound caught its attention.

With cool detachment, she surveyed the unicorn slumped naked before her. “Stygian, was it?” He shook, curled up in a fetal position. “Hmm, I could kill you. But why waste what precious little energy it would take when you're already on the verge of death?” She kicked his side, and he whimpered, a rib snapping under the impact from the blow.

Whistling, Cerise's hands flared with an aura, and she summoned up her usual clothes. She wandered out of the dungeon, the door creaking on its rusty hinges, out into the clammy, crumbling stonework in pursuit of her father.

Stygian groaned and swayed to his knees once she'd gone. “S-Somnambula,” he whispered. He'd let the darkness consume him, use him, reduce him to nothing more than its tool. He pushed himself to rise out of desperation, ignored the pain that wracked him, the weakness of his tired muscles, determined to seek out the last Pillar, and somehow set this all right.

He stumbled out into the gloom. Water dripped between the cracks with an echo that made his ears twitch. He leaned on the cold stone for support, uncertain what exactly had happened to him. Far as he could tell, the Pillars had saved him from his fate as the Pony of Shadows, so how had he ended up like this? The last he recalled was the arrival of the Elritch, and...

He understood. They must have slain him at the height of the war like so many others. But the Necronomicon drew in those touched by the darkness, which included him, and the entity that contaminated the dark tome's interior, the Demiurge, must have been able to reawaken the Pony of Shadows within him once his departed soul ended up trapped within the pages.

Yet he was a mere dabbler into the occult, a scholar. Sombra had attempted to master the shadows. Doubtless, poor Cerise would be forced to seek him out and transfer the power to him. He gritted his teeth, almost collapsed, pushed onwards...

Fin shaped ears flattened against Spike's head. He paused before the familiar trio before him, sniffed the air, and his consciousness threatened to resurface, however momentarily. He couldn't understand the unicorn, who took the lead, but immediately knew she was somehow important to him. Yet, for some reason, she barred him from others he wished to see, far down below.

“Can you understand me, Spike?” She placed a tentative hand on his massive snout. “It's Twilight Sparkle! Please, if you're in there, listen! I know you want to see everyone again, but if you tear a hole down there, you could end up hurting them!”

He titled his head, unable to comprehend the gist of her words, despite his inability to understand her language. A whine escaped him, wingspan pressed to his scaly musculature, saddened that he couldn't reunite with his friends and family.

“It's okay,” she assured him, holding his snout. “I'll find some way to fix this, I promise!”

“Whew. That was easier than expected,” said Smolder, who rested a claw on her powerful hip. “Close one, though!”

Ember shook her head, arms folded. “It's not over yet. A Dragon Lord isn't supposed to be reborn like this. At least, not according to the legends. He should have come back as an egg and started his whole life over!”

Smolder heaved her shoulders. “Well, it was a fable. We didn't really expect it to work, no matter how much we hoped.”

“I'll help him find himself,” said Twilight, who narrowed her eyes. “I won't let him be reduced to a mere animal!” She pressed her head to him with a soft sob, thankful that one of the many she'd lost to the Eldritch had miraculously returned. She'd lost far too many, most in senseless ways, all because a mythic race had arisen from the Necronomicon to wreak havoc.

They had slain the Eldritch to the last. Yet their dark messiah, the Demiurge, could only be contained in the tome. Even if they were to somehow annihilate it, she sensed it would only return in a new form and continue to build its power.

It was an idea, a force-of-nature, and how could one ever honestly hope to be rid of a concept?

Smolder said, “So what do we do with him for now?”

“He can stay in the Dragon Lands,” replied Ember. “Plenty of room to relax and play here.”

“Now, you're talkin'! We'll keep him company! I don't like it as much down there anyway,” admitted Smolder. “I mean, it's an okay change of pace once in a while, but I prefer the smoky air, the hot bubbly lava, the-”

While he couldn't make out the words, Spike listened anyhow, felt the warmth and humor in his old friends. With them, he'd been able to push past any obstacle, despite what the invaders had repeatedly thrown at Equestria. He lazed by them, curled up in his spiny tail, tried to settle down into a slumber that would finally ease his restlessness with a tired snort.

He kept an eye open, felt his heart slow, and his muscles slacken. But before he could lose himself in dreams of his former life, a psychic scream threatened to shred his brain, and he roared, rising to all fours and breathing a cone of hellish fire at the air.

“Spike! What's wrong?!” Twilight kept her distance, unable to fathom his sudden burst of rage.

Instinctively aware that in his current state, he was a threat to them, Spike hurtled himself into the crimson sky and beat his massive wings in a desperate, aimless flight. His addled mind recalled familiar horrors. The Eldritch. The Demiurge.

He swooped past the Badlands, to where an old enemy-turned-ally lived, sure the Necronomicon would have the answers...