King Sombra sat atop his throne, shrouded in silence and shadow. His crimson eyes glowed with menace, framed by green sclera that wept curling tendrils of dark purple mist—residue of the black magic that pulsed through his very being. The Crystal Empire was his once again.

He was a dark gray unicorn, towering and imposing, with a jagged black mane and tail that framed his sharp, angular features. His horn—unlike those of ordinary unicorns—was a twisted, curved weapon, smooth and deadly, fading from iron gray to blood red at the tip. Two gleaming fangs protruded from his grin, a cruel reminder that he was not like the others. He was something far more dangerous.

Silver armor encased his legs and neck, polished but unfeeling, as cold as the northern winds that howled beyond the castle walls. Upon his head sat a wicked crown, its jagged spires mimicking horns—symbols of dominance and dread.

The throne room, once gleaming with hope and light, now pulsed with an oppressive darkness. Cracks spidered across the once-pristine crystal walls, corrupted by his magic. Outside, the city lay under his shadow, its citizens broken, its heroes fallen, its heart silent.

At last, the Crystal Heart was gone—hidden, shattered, or simply useless under his dark enchantments. Fear reigned supreme, and so did he.

With a low, rumbling chuckle, King Sombra leaned forward, his fangs flashing beneath a satisfied grin. "The age of light is over," he murmured, voice like gravel and thunder. "Let them tremble in the dark." He smiled, fangs glinting in the dim light.

The Crystal Empire had finally returned to its rightful king.