Chapter Text
SALEM
OCTOBER 14, 21:16 EDT
“Realizing that the Eclipso Entity’s omnicidal crusade would inevitably overturn the Holy Balance itself, Order and Chaos struck a rare accord. For the first and last time in cosmic history, the Hosts of Law and Anarchy made joint petition to the Old Gods of the Third World. They commissioned the forging of two mighty talismans from the god-smiths of Urgrund, blessed with the might of Order and Chaos respectively; the Sword of He and the Staff of Havok, the Two Keys to Power.
“All they needed now was a Champion to wield them.”
*
CASTLE DARK MOON
October 14, 15:16 UCT
The castle’s outer courtyard was filled with dozens of moribund slaves, sluggishly carrying heavy components for the Great Work, necks bent low by the weight of their heavy inhibitor collars, will’s broken by the lash. Some were former Horde clones, captured during the raid on Beast Island a few weeks back, but most were common Etherian peasantry harvested from the surrounding villages. All labored under the slitted eyes of ebon-plated Snake Troopers.
A psychic miasma of fear, despair and contempt practically chocked the air. So much so that even M’comm M’orzz’s usual psy-filters were having trouble screening them out. As M’arzzans went, M’comm was a fairly accomplished telepath; nowhere near his sister’s level true, but accomplished all the same. Still, he had limits.
“Faster, warmblood!”
M’comm felt the spike of pain and terror before he heard the sizzling crack of the stun-whip. His head jerked reflexively, just in time to catch sight of an elderly faun collapsing to their knees. The satyr-like Etherian’s bare back was already crisscrossed by stripes of burnt flesh.
“Back on your hooves, mammal!” The ophidian overseer hissed, brandishing his still crackling whip, literally kicking the faun while they were down.
M’comm could filter out the faun’s anguish and humiliation easily enough, he had enough experience ignoring his own. But the Snake Trooper’s ghoulish glee at being granted to opportunity to vent his malice upon a perceived inferior, not so much.
“Still with us?” asked a sardonically crisp voice.
M’comm snapped out of his reverie, turning to his… Well, ‘colleague’ was about as generous a title as he was willing to grant.
Minerva, or ‘Lady Barbara Ann Minerva of Nottingham’ as she preferred to style herself, regarded the M’arzzan disinterestedly. M’comm didn’t need telepathy to read the thinly veiled disdain in the were-cheetah’s jade eyes. The feeling was entirely mutual. M’comm had worked with literal gods of torture and oppression who didn’t rankle him quiet as much as this conceited Earther aristocrat.
<Quite.>
M’comm and Minerva approached the end of the great walkway, where stood the dimly fading Moonstone of Bright Moon. Two figures awaited them, surrounded by a statuesque circle of the elite Serpent Guard. M’arzzan and Earther alike prostrated themselves before the Master of Dark Moon… their Master.
<Lord Eclipso.>
“Ah, Ma'alefa'ak, Lady Minerva,” Lord Eclipso enthused without warmth, her eyes twin pools of inky void. “General Rattlor was just escorting us on an inspection of the Great Work.” She gestured upward with a hand gloved in black velvet.
M’comm tilted his head to take in the sight, a titanic circular machine, framing Castle Dark Moon like a steel halo, using the onyx fortress’ own superstructure as a foundation.
<It is indeed glorious, my Lord.>
“Is it not? We must thank General Rattlor and his troops for keeping our work force at peak efficiency.” She patted the General’s arm with something approximating affection.
“I only do my part for the Great Work, my Lord,” replied Rattlor magnanimously.
Outwardly, the Dread Lord and the serpentine general cut a dashing pair, her arm entwined about his, the Darkling Queen and her grim knight. But M’comm could practically taste Rattlor’s inward revulsion at the touch of smooth primate fingers on his bronze scales, despite the ophidian’s perfectly gentlemanly exterior.
<My Lord, We have captured the rebels Bow and Catra, along with one of the forest creatures that were harboring them.>
“Where are they now?” Eclipso asked with guarded expectancy.
“Sequestered in the ‘Guest Room’, my Lord,” Minerva interjected obsequiously, earning a side-eye from M’comm.
<With your permission, my Lord, I can begin a telepathic interrogation of the prisoners immediately.>
“No.”
Lord Eclipso’s mind was like an abyss to M’comm’s telepathy, her expression equally unreadable, but the Black Diamond shard embedded in her clavicle pulsed briefly.
<Lord?>
“We shall attend to the prisoners in our own time. Until then, they are to speak to no one,” Eclipso intoned imperiously. “Are we understood?”
<Perfectly, my Lord.> M'comm bowed his head low. Somewhere far behind him, the lash crackled again.
*
“I got eyes on Glimmer- Eclipso, I mean,” whispered Tigress, peering through a pair of bat-tech enhanced binoculars that allowed her to make out every detail of Castle Dark Moon. “Along with Ma’alefa’ak and… Barbara Minerva?”
“Who?” Adora asked in a low tone, crouching alongside Tigress behind an ash mound on the edge of the Whispering Woods.
“The eight-foot-tall were-cheetah, she’s one of Wonder Woman’s regular sparring partners and a high-ranking agent of Leviathan.”
“Leviawhat?”
“Not important right now. Point is, she’s a heavy hitter. No idea what she’s doing on Etheria though.” Tigress’s gaze fell on the bound slaves, anger and guilt twisting her stomach. “Inhibitor collars on the workers, Eclipso must have grabbed the specs when she raided the Watchtower.”
“Tigress, that’s not your fault.”
“Still my responsibility.” Tigress turned back to the Darkling Queen and her escort. “You recognize tall, dark and scaly?” She handed the binoculars off to Adora.
“‘General’ Rattlor,” Adora squinted through the lenses. “Used to be a Force Captain in the Horde. Ever since the war ended, he’s been running a mercenary outfit out of the Crimson Wastes. He tried to eat me once. I mean literally eat me.”
“Sounds like a charmer,” snorted Tigress. “Though I guess that explains where Eclipso suddenly got an army.” She tapped Adora’s shoulder. “C’mon, we better rendezvous with Miss M and Halo.”
“Yeah… no problem.” Adora nodded, her eyes lingering on the immense ring of machinery circling the darkling citadel.
*
WHISPERING WOODS
October 14, 15:32 UCT
“A portal to the Phantom Zone?” Miss Martian sat under the shade of a half-dead tree, already partially desiccated into grey ash by Eclipso’s spreading power. “But why?”
“Could she be trying to free Grayven?” asked Halo, a quiver of dread in their voice.
“Good luck with that,” answered Tigress. “The Green Lantern Corps extracted him right after his invasion of Etheria went bust. He’s been rotting in an Oan sciencell for months. There’s no one left in the Zone to free.”
“Eclipso’s not planning to free anyone,” Adora spoke somberly. “She’s planning to destroy everything.”
“You said that before,” Tigress asked. “What exactly do you mean by ‘destroy everything’?”
“I don’t even know where to start,” sighed Adora, slumping against another crumbling tree.
“Would it be easier to show us?” Miss Martian asked softly.
“Show how?”
“I can establish a mind-link between the four of us, allow you to share your memories directly,” Miss Martian extended a hand. “If you’re comfortable with that?”
Adora hesitated a moment before taking the proffered hand. “Okay.”
Miss Martian turned to Tigress and Halo. The two Earthers exchanged a quick glance.
“I’m in,” said Tigress.
“Me too,” Halo echoed.
“Alright then,” said Miss Martian. “Adora, I have to warn you, mind-links can sometime get… intense, especially when dealing with emotionally charged memories. I need you to understand that you can call this off at any point, for any reason, no questions asked. Okay?”
Adora nodded. “I understand.”
“And that goes for everyone else here,” Miss Martian added.
“Keep all telepathy safe, sane and consensual,” quoted Tigress, having clearly heard this speech many times before.
Miss Martian chortled. “You’ve such a dirty mind.”
Tigress winked. “You would know.”
Miss Martian closed her eye, centering her being, before allowing her mind to expand outward, enveloping them all.
*
CASTLE DARK MOON
October 14, 15:32 UCT
Steam fogged the washroom mirrors as scalding water filled the sink. General Rattlor’s hulking frame was bent over the black marble bowl as he viciously scrubbed the scales of his forearm. His voice was a low venomous hiss.
“How dare she?”
He shuddered at the memory of disgustingly smooth skin, the invisibly thin primate fuzz that covered almost every inch of their misshapen apish forms. Lord Eclipso may have been a cosmic entity from before the dawn of time, but Rattlor would never understand how she could bear to wear such degenerate flesh…
Mammal flesh.
He took a moment to reassert his self-discipline before exiting the washroom. Once the Great Work was complete, Lord Eclipso would have no further need for her current vessel. Then he would finally be free to attend to the primates, the felinids, the fauns and all the other evolutionary dead ends infesting Etheria.
“General!”
Speaking of. He turned to see Lord Eclipso’s pet felinid strutting up the corridor like she owned it. The sheer gall of the warmblood, addressing him as though they were peers. Still, manners. “Ah, Lady Minerva,” he replied with perfect courtliness. “How may I be of service?”
“There’s something I’m hoping you can clear up for me?” Minerva asked.
“Of course, m’dear,” drawled Rattlor. “’Twould be my most treasured delight and privilege to elucidate any and all obscurities that may be perturbing you.” Stupid hair ball probably needed help counting past single digits.
“That giant tech-ring about the castle, Lord Eclipso’s ‘Great Work’?”
“Yesss…?”
“What exactly does it do?”
Rattlor’s lips curled in a fanged grin.
*
WHISPERING WOODS
October 14, 15:36 UCT
The forest melted away around them, only to be replaced by a dim vault, walls plated with grey-green alloys. Silent images of Hordak, Catra, Glimmer and Bow were scattered about the chamber in absolute stillness, frozen in mid-battle near a mechanized ring not unlike the one that now surrounded Dark Moon on the physical plane. A double of Adora herself was chained to a rusted copper pillar, helpless to intervene. It was like being inside a still frame.
Neither Miss Martian, Tigress nor Halo had ever seen this place before, but through the mind-link with Adora, they each instantly knew exactly where they were, the Fright Zone; the corroded heart of the Horde’s former empire on Etheria.
“Hordak and Entrapta built the first portal…” Adora’s voice was thin, distant, echoing. “Their original plan was to escape Despondos and summon more Horde reinforcements to Etheria. We tried to stop them, but…”
The image shifted, now Catra stood before the portal, her hand on the activation lever, a sneer of triumph on her face.
“Catra wouldn’t listen.”
Image flickered after image, Adora and Catra, nestled together; overlooking the Fright Zone’s skyline, Glimmer in the gardens of Bright Moon; receiving a bear hug from her father.
“Then things got weird.”
*
CASTLE DARK MOON
October 14, 15:36 UCT
“Once activated, the Great Work will rewrite reality itself,” rasped Rattlor in awed tones. “Creating a new universe where those who serve Lord Eclipso faithfully will have our deepest desires made manifest.”
“What?!” Barbara snorted incredulously. “You can’t seriously believe that!”
“I don’t just believe it, m’dear,” Rattlor’s voice was hushed. “I’ve seen it done.”
He’s lying, thought Barbara. He’s either lying or insane.
<I assure you, he is neither.>
Part of the black marble wall seemed to… peel away, air rippling to reveal the ash-white spindle form of the Ma’alefa’ak. Barbara took a step backwards, cursing herself for forgetting the Martian talent for camouflage. Of course Eclipso would have the invisible shapeshifting telepath monitoring the rest of her underlings.
“Ah, Malefic, my boy,” said Rattlor amiably. “Glad you could join us.”
<General,> replied the Ma’alefa’ak tersely.
“So it’s true?” Barbara asked. “About the Great Work?”
<Oh yes, I’ve seen it in Rattlor’s memory. During the time Etheria was trapped in the Phantom Zone, the Horde created a similar portal on a much smaller scale. When activated, it reshaped that plane of existence according to the fondest wishes of those caught within its sphere of influence.>
“And we’d still be there to this day, If not for She-Ra,” spat Rattlor, hissing that last word like a slur.
*
WHISPERING WOODS
October 14, 15:38 UCT
“The new reality was unstable, it started... unraveling.”
The scene shifted again, this time to a single small island floating in the midst of the void. It was all that remained of Etheria, of reality. Adora's past self stood at the center of the cosmic atoll, her gaze turned up towards...
“Oh my…” whispered Halo in quite awe.
The figure hovering above them was grace itself, soaring upon pearlescent wings. Her ageless features were set in grim resolve as she flew into the very heart of the shrieking white vortex above.
“Is that...?” Tigress left the question unfinished.
“Queen Angella, Glimmer's mom,” answered Adora. “She sacrificed herself to seal the portal before the damage to reality became irreversible. She saved us all.”
“She's beautiful,” spoke Halo.
“She was,” echoed Adora. “If I had stopped her, if Catra hadn't-”
The scene surged violently to what could only have been the Whispering Wood, already half-consumed by the ravenous white void. Adora's doppelganger was on her knees now, tears running in hot rivulets down her cheek. Lost, alone, save for the figure that loomed over her.
A shudder a collective revulsion rippled through the mind-link.
The figure was a thing of nightmare. Half its form was pure abyss, like a hole cut in the very fabric of reality, one foot already in Unbeing. Its face was twisted in a demoniacal leer, blue/yellow eyes filled with unalloyed malice. It was transcendent horror incarnate.
“Merciful Lord...” Halo gasped
“Is that..?” Tigress asked fearfully.
It was Catra.
“No... NO!” Adora cried. “I don't want this! Stop! STOP IT!”
“Cutting the link!” Miss Martian's voice exclaimed.
Adora fell to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably.
“It's alright, Adora,” Miss Martian spoke soothing, kneeling at the girl’s side. “Just breathe, okay?”
Adora nodded weakly, sniffing as she wiped tears and snot away on her sleeve.
“Catra said she almost destroyed reality once,” muttered Halo faintly. “I thought she was joking.”
“I knew she'd done things she wasn't proud of, but that...” Tigress muttered.
“She's not like that anymore!” Adora bolted upright. “Please, you don't know what being on the Team means to her! You can't-”
“Let's just... put a pin in that for now.” Tigress cut in. “Right now, right now we need to focus on the immediate problem: saving the entire universe.”
*
CASTLE DARK MOON
October 14, 15:38 UCT
<Why did She-Ra and her allies intervene?> the question had been needling at M’comm since he’d first surveyed Rattlor’s memories. <Surely, the portal would have granted their deepest cravings as well?>
“Didn’t approve of the rest of us havin’ a good time, I imagine,” drawled Rattlor.
“Typical woke moralists,” snorted Minerva. She was already mentally running down the list of hedonistic fantasies she could indulge through the power of the Great Work, her loyalties to Leviathan already forgotten.
M’comm had never encountered a mind so petty and self-absorbed. Every decision Barbara Minerva had ever made in life had been dictated solely by the calculus of her own ego and self-gratification. H'ronmeer’s teeth, even her religion was transactional. Minerva’s devotion to her ‘Blood God’ began and ended with the tangible power it granted her.
Not that Rattlor was much better. His sordid dream of ruling over a ‘purified’ Etheria was nothing but raw egotism, driven more by his own frustrated self-image as some mighty conqueror than any real concern for his people’s prosperity.
Not like M’comm, of course. He alone could see the true potential of the Great Work, because he alone truly believed in a cause greater than himself. Still, he couldn’t shake his original question.
Why would anyone turn down paradise?
*
SALEM
October 14, 21:32 EDT
“Long long ago, beneath a distant sun… There lived a creature called Ro.
“You would probably think him little better than an ape to gaze upon, with his pale grey fur and stooped furtive posture. But Ro was a healer, wise in the lore of his people, and tender of heart. The cosmos could hardly have imagined a more unlikely Champion.
“Ro had been a mere apprentice to his tribe’s chief healer, Eldor, the day his life changed forever. He had been out in the forest, gathering certain fungus for the shamanic rites. He must have accidentally tasted one because, without warning, his entire world melted away before his eyes. Ro found himself adrift in the celestial void, eyes wide with terror as he beheld the birth and death of galaxies. Then he saw… Them.
“You must understand, Ro’s people had no ‘gods’ as we would understand the term. His world was populated by a thousand local spirits and fey. Every tree, every spring, every rock had an inner life, an identity of its own. But of the terrible powers and principalities that held entire worlds in their callous palms, he had no conception… until now.
“The twin celestials dwarfed Ro’s astral form, gazing down upon him with cold regard. The first was a swollen behemoth, holding a weapon of smoking iron in each of his four taloned fists. Ro had thought the beast's skin a bright red at first until he realized the truth, the behemoth was soaked head-to-toe in fresh blood.
“The second celestial could not have been more different, cloaked in geometric wings of shimmering gold. Her visage was serene, beautiful, unchanging. Somehow, she seemed the more terrible of the two. Ro only had to look upon the two deities to know their names… War and Peace.
“The Lords spoke to Ro, not in words but in pure thought. They spoke of a Great Darkness, casting a hateful shadow across the face of Creation. They spoke of the cold malice it bore towards all that lived, and how they had chosen young Ro to be the Champion of Life itself.
“Ro quailed, not only before the dread archons but before the terrible burden they would place upon him. How could so insignificant a creature as he stand against such horror?
“War’s answer was like the baying of a thousand blood-hungry hounds. Ro would be granted mighty weapons to wield in the great battles ahead, weapons such as no mortal had ever wielded before.
“Still Ro quailed, he was a healer not a warrior.
“Peace’s gaze was chill as starlight as it pierced his soul. Nevertheless, he must serve.
“Ro awoke in an empty glade. He might have dismissed the entire episode if not for the two relics that lay before him, a golden hilted sword; its blade a prismatic rainbow, and a staff of stygian iron; topped with the skull of some nameless horned beast.
“In an instant, Ro’s purpose was set. He knew what must be done. He would take the two mighty talismans... and toss them in the deepest pit he could find.
“But his purpose was broken once he laid his paws upon the relics. For in that moment, he awakened to worlds beyond count, and souls without end. Ro was made at one with every creature who ever lived, or ever will live; their agonies and ecstasies, their joys and sorrows.
“I wonder if the likes of you or I can fully appreciate what that’s like; to be drowned by the tears of a universe. The passing ages have a way of hardening the heart. But Ro was young, his heart still tender. He wept then, wept with and for every fellow creature in existence.
“What else could he do then, but take up his burden and depart his world forever? For he had been damned by his own compassion.”
*
CASTLE DARK MOON
October 14, 15:46 UCT
“Y’know,” Catra spoke morosely. “Stuff like this only happens when I hang out with you,”
Bow bolted upright. “What do you mean ‘stuff like this’?”
Catra spread her arms to take in their surroundings. “I mean stuff like this!”
The ‘Guest Room’ of Castle Dark Moon was little more than a bare cube of black adamantine. The only light was the dim violet glow from the phosphorescent diamonds set in the walls. Food and water came at irregular intervals through a thin slot in one of the walls. The only other opening they had found was the small hole in the corner provided for their absolutions. It was anybody’s guess where the dank air was being pumped in from.
“Oh, so this is my fault?” Bow deadpanned.
“You said it, not me,” retorted Catra.
“Ach, de ye bigguns do nea but whinge an’ moan!?” Spragg interjected shrilly.
“Seriously?” Catra side-eyed the Twigget elder. “You’ve done nothing but complain since we got here.”
“Complainin’ innea the same as whingin’ an’ moanin’.”
“What’s the difference?” Bow asked.
Sprag drew himself up to his full height, such as it was, orange saucer eyes set stoically. “Complainin’ is done wi’h more dignity.”
“Ch!” Catra snorted. “You are so full of sh-”
Catra, Bow and Sprag were abruptly hurled to the far wall, as if some giant had suddenly turned the room on its side. All three prisoners ‘lay’ pinned upon the cold ebon wall, struggling as if pressed under the giant’s invisible hand.
<Forgive the interruption…>
The Ma’alefa’ak’s translucent wraith-form passed through the cell’s polished wall, like pale mist rising from the surface of a black lake.
<But I really couldn’t take another word of your bickering.>
“What do you want?” Catra grunted under the pressure of Martian telekinesis.
<Just clarification on a few points,> the Ma’alefa’ak replied, fully re-solidifying within the cell. <Let’s start with why Lord Eclipso has such a particular interest in you two?>
Bow’s brow furrowed. “She doesn’t know you’re here, does she?”
The Martian shot him a glare, eyes blazing an unearthly green. Bow began to wince in pain, trashing his head back and forth as though trying to shake off some unwanted touch.
<Interesting… Lord Eclispo’s current host is your lover. Well, that explains a few things at least.>
“Leave him alone!” Catra snarled. Her limbs shook with rage as she tried to rip herself from the wall.
<Very well, I’m much more interested in you, Catra.> The Martian released his grip on Bow’s mind, turning to regard the felinid with sharp yellow eyes. <I saw you in Rattlor’s memories. You were in the Fright Zone when the original portal was activated. What happened after that?>
“That portal nearly destroyed our entire reality!” Catra spat. “Just like that one you’re building is going to destroy this one!”
<Lies!> the Martian retorted stridently. <Lord Eclipso’s Great Work will recreate this universe! She’s promised me a new M’arzz, one where my people will finally live free!>
“Don’t believe me?” Catra’s eyes narrowed. “Read my mind.”
<A surface scan reveals no conscious deception, but surface scans can be fooled.> Once more, the Ma’alefa’ak’s eyes burned an acidic green. <I must go deeper…>
Worms… thoughts like worms… wriggling… digging… burrowing into secret places… doors locked away long ago. A breakthrough… a flood… memories… feelings buried… welling up like a geyser… fear… shame… loneliness… terrible loneliness…
Too late.
“No… stop! It’s too much! TOO MUCH!!!” M’comm screamed… or was it Catra?
“I… I can’t!” one of them answered fearfully.
Then they both screamed.
*
Bow tumbled hard to the cold cell floor as the telekinetic grip on his body abruptly vanished. He scrabbled to his feet. Catra was still invisibly pinned to the far wall, her blue/yellow eyes rolled back in her skull. The Ma’alefa’ak’s own form was preternaturally still, like an alabaster statue.
“Catra?!” Bow lunged to tackle the Martian.
“STOP!!!” Sprag shrieked, throwing himself at the archer. “Stop, ye mad blahgeen!”
“I have to help Catra!” Bow protested as the Twigget wrestled him back to the floor.
“Then look first!”
Sprag pointed to the Martian’s yellow eyes, rolling back in the alien’s own skull, just like Catra’s.
“Their spirits be walking in the Woods Beyond,” the Twigget elder spoke in hushed tones. “If ye disturb their mortal shells, they may ne’er come back.”
“Then what are we supposed to do!?”
“All we can do is keep watch ‘til… Wait!”
The Martian’s form began to shrink and deflate. One of his yellow eyes turned sapphire blue as short dusky orange fur spread across his ash-white skin. It took Bow a couple of moments to recognize the alien’s new form. But once he did. It was unmistakable.
“Catra…?”
It was Catra, but not as Bow had ever seen her. She couldn’t have been any older than five or six years, clad in a ratty Horde cadet’s uniform. Tears were streaming from her blue/yellow eyes.
*
He tried to stifle the heaving sobs, without much success. All he could do right now was sit enveloped in the dark and hope it would pass soon. He couldn’t let them see him like this. They’d only see it as an invitation to hurt him more. Why did he have to be like this? Why did he have to be so weak and stupid?
“Malcolm?” a muffled voice called from somewhere beyond the comforting dark.
He hissed reflexively as someone pulled down the blanket, exposing him to the harsh light of the Fright Zone’s junior barracks. A girl, barely older than himself, smiled a warm gap-toothed smile.
“Malcolm, it’s okay. It’s just me,” said Adora reassuringly, sitting next to her best friend. “It doesn’t matter what they do to us, ya know? You look out for me, and I look out for you. Nothing really bad can happen as long as we have each other.”
“You promise?” asked Horde Cadet Malcolm.
*
<Ma’alefa’ak! Beast! Th'ernn!>
The slurs stung her, psychically charged as they were with spite and contempt, but not nearly as much as the stones she was being telekinetically pelted with.
<Well, Ma’alefa’ak... Anything to say for yourself?> The lead G'arrunn was flanked by two more of his kind, blood-drop eyes gleaming with malicious mirth.
<Please...> She cowered in the corner of the cave, curling into herself. <Just leave me alone.>
<Are you trying to order me around!?> The G'arrunn shot back viciously, telekinetically raising a lump of jagged basalt. <No ma'al scum tells J'edd J'arkus what to do!>
J'edd J'arkus hurled the basalt shard, only for it to be sent flying back, slamming flat into his face. He staggered back, his two flunkies darting about for the unseen attacker before they too were pelted with stones from nowhere.
<Don't just stand there, idiots> J'arkus demanded, nursing his indented face, wrenching himself upright. <Get me out of here!>
She didn't watch them flee. She was too afraid to open her eyes, too afraid to even move.
<Are you alright?>
She finally pried her eyes open to find a slightly older A'ashenn kneeling over her.
<It's okay, sis,> M'gann soothed, wrapping her arms around the younger A’ashenn. Her mind likewise stretched out, enveloping the weeping child in an aura of love and reassurance. <I'm here... I'll always be here.>
<You promise?> asked K’tra M’orzz.
*
TWIGGET VILLAGE
October 14, 15:58 UCT
Catra hurts.
Melog knew nothing else about what was happening beyond the spherical confines of their prison of magically tempered glass, but they knew that much at least…
Catra hurts.
Even Melog didn’t fully understand the nature of their rapport with the troubled Etherian, despite their people’s naturally empathic nature. Perhaps it was simply two lonely spirits seeing themselves in each other’s pain, or the subtle work of that Great Love that draws all things inexorably into Its embrace, perhaps it was just the endearing way she sneezed. But from the night they’d first met on Krytis, Melog knew they would never leave Catra’s side as long as she lived.
They couldn’t read Catra’s mind by any stretch. They barely understood half the odd flappy noises she was always making with her mouth. But they could feel her heart. Right now, her heart was being torn in two.
Catra hurts.
And Melog could do nothing.
THUNK!
Melog startled as their glass prison shook violently.
THUNK!
THUNK!
THUNK!
A thin crack formed in the curved glass. It wasn’t enough the slip even a hair through. But it was enough for Melog. They burst through the fissure like a jet of boiling steam; emerging back into the outer world in their natural state, a creature of pure living magic; wild and formless. They recoalesced back into their preferred shape, that of a great smoky panther.
They found themselves somewhere in the Whispering Woods, in the midst of a small secluded village. Or what was left of it. The settlement had clearly been abruptly abandoned. One or two of the charred huts were still shouldering in the dusk.
“They all fled inta the deep woods.”
Melog spun on their paws. Behind them crouched one of the purple-skinned lemur creatures that had stuffed them into that glass bauble in the first place. Melog’s misty mane flared bright-red, lips pealing back to bare fangs glowing like hot pokers.
“Wait!” The lemur-thing threw up her long-fingered hands. “I dinnae mean to spook ye.”
Melog sheathed their fangs but didn’t turn their back on the creature.
“My name’s Spiritina.” She held up the cracked bauble. “I’m sorry ‘bout us stickin’ ye in here, but I need yer help. The snake-folk took yer biggun friends and Elder Sprag to the Big House.”
Big house? Bright Moon!
Melog turned in the direction of the castle, only for Spiritina to throw herself in their path.
“Wait!” the forest-sprite implored. “We have to fetch yer other friend first!”
Melog cocked their head quizzically.
Other friend?
*
CASTLE DARK MOON
October 14, 16:03 UCT
The dormant bio-ship slumbered like a hibernating rock-beast at the center of the cavernous hanger. The chamber was chill, even by M’arzzan standards. That struck K’tra as an odd thought. What other standards would she have used?
<Hello, M’arzz to K’tra?>
K’tra blinked. <What?>
<You totally spaced out for a second there,> Answered M’gann, or ‘Meh-gan’ as she insisted on calling herself nowadays.
<Did not!> K’tra snipped with the psychic equivalent of a pout.
<Did too!> M’gann shot back with an actual physical pout. She was in full ‘Earth mode’ now; wearing the form of a human girl from those inane ‘situational-comedy’ transmissions she made K’tra watch, right down to the ruddy pinkish skin. At least she’d stopped trying to pass herself off as a G’arrunn.
<Do you have to wear that? You know I can’t take you seriously when you’re in that form.>
<I’m not ‘wearing’ anything. This form is me.> M’gann protested. <And you’re going to need an Earth form too after this.>
K’tra was quiet, looking down on her long spindle-form and the ash-white skin that had forever marked her as a pariah. <We should go back.>
<What? Are you crazy!?> M’gann blurted. <We’ve been planning this for months!>
<No! You’ve been planning this for months!> K’tra spat back. <You never once asked what I wanted!>
<Hellooo, Megan!> She drawled sardonically, slapping her own head mockingly. <How could I be so inconsiderate? I should have asked if my little sister actually wanted to spend the rest of her life being pelted with rocks and scrubbing public latrines.>
<You think Earth will be any better? I’ve seen their transmissions too…> K’tra began shifting from one hideous form to another, a quivering cephalopod with a v-shaped beak for a mouth, a sinister grey humanoid with dark oversized eyes, an insectoid horror with gleaming black carapace and blade-tipped tail. <We’re the bug-eyed monsters who invade their world and mutilate their live-stock. They’ll never accept us, never see us as anything other than freaks, outsiders… aliens.>
<Yes they will! We won’t give them a choice!> M’gann countered. <There are no telepaths on Earth, they’ll only ever see what we let them see!>
<Is that what you really want, M’gann? To spend the rest of your life living a lie?>
<Better than dying here.> M’gann’s thoughts were cold and bitter as she camouflaged herself. <Stay here then, if that’s what you want. Stay and rot like a coward!>
<Wait, M’gann, I didn’t mean->
Too late, she was already gone, psy-shielding herself from K’tra’s mind. It was alright, K’tra reassured herself. This was just one of M’gann’s stupid games. She wasn’t seriously going to stow-away to another planet. She’d be back once she’d had a chance to cool off and…
K’tra sensed another mind approaching. She rapidly compressed her form, crouching behind a stack of crates, hurriedly raising her own psy-shields as the hanger doors dilated.
A G'arrunn entered, though one quite unlike most. His form was like some strange hybrid of M’arzzan and Earther, compact yet oddly sleek. He wore the ebon and scarlet uniform of a M’hontrr, the brutal enforcers of the M’arzzan state. M’gann had always insisted that ‘Uncle J’onn’ wasn’t like the others, but K’tra wasn’t so naïve. All M’hontrr’s were bastards.
The M’hontrr paused a moment, glancing about the hanger as though trying to place something.
Oh ma’al!
K’tra stamped the thought down, blanking her mind, quenching the flickering fear. The M’hontrr shook his head before proceeding to the bio-ship. The hanger’s roof unfurled like the petals of a technorganic flower as he boarded. From her hidden vantage point, K’tra watched as the bio-ship rose soundlessly, before disappearing forever into the black.
<M’gann…> K’tra mind-whispered. <You can come out now, he’s gone.>
No response.
<C’mon already,> she pleaded. <this isn’t funny, M’gann.>
She reached out with her mind and felt nothing.
<M’gann?>
*
Malcolm’s fist struck the graffiti of Adora and himself, crudely scratched into the grey-green metal of his bunk. Tears burned down his cheeks as he beat and tore at the thin pad of cloth that passed for a pillow. How could she? How could she leave him alone in this hell? She wasn’t any better than the rest of them.
‘She hates me!’ he thought bitterly. ‘Hates me like all the others!’’
*
She stalked through looping tunnels on the very outskirts of Ma'aleca'andra. The power of her new form was intoxicating. It felt good. It felt… natural, somehow. And why not? She was now the most feared predator on M’arzz.
Fear, she could taste it in the air, sweet and heady. Her prey had blindly run himself directly into a dead end. J'edd J'arkus had never been very bright. The oafish G'arrunn clawed feverishly on a wall of dark red basalt, too panicked - or too stupid – to even camouflage himself. Not that it would have mattered now.
She savored his terror, the mindless animal horror in his blood-drop eyes. He no longer saw K’tra M’orzz, the cowering child, the sniveling abandoned weakling.
He only saw the Ma’alefa’ak
*
“Heeey, Adoooraaa!”
Malcolm's voice was an eldritch singsong, undulating in tones impossible for wholly material vocal organs. Adora was on her knees, looking up in horror at the nightmare he’d become. All around them, reality was dying, gnawed away by the white void.
Adora was so scared. She wouldn’t be if she knew what Malcolm knew, if she could hear the Call of The Void. The Light of Unbeing had sung to him, shown him the truth. The Light had shown Malcolm how to free himself from the pain, free everyone from pain. The solution was laughably simple once he’d seen it…
End everything.
*
She collapsed to the hard ebon floor, gasping, sobbing. Someone was holding her, supporting her, calling out a name…
“Catra?!” Bow cried. “Catra are you okay?”
‘Catra’? Is that who she was? Yes, Catra. Not Malcolm, or K’tra… Catra. She tried to answer, vocal chords suddenly unfamiliar, when an anguished voice cried out in a piteous wail. It took a moment to realize the voice was her own.
Her life flashed before her eyes, quite literally. The figure was her, form shifting madly through her many personas, Horde Force Captain, Crimson Waste renegade, disciple of Prime. All the while, it continued to wail, buckling under the regrets of a lifetime of before collapsing in the far corner of the cell, finally assuming its original spindly ash-white form.
Catra starred at the huddled shivering creature as though seeing him for the very first time. “M’comm?”
The pale Martian rounded on her like a wounded animal, yellow eyes mad with horror. <Don’t look at me… DON’T LOOK AT ME!!!>
“Wait!” Catra reached out, but it was already too late. The Martian’s body turned ghost-like, melting back into the wall from which he came.
The three prisoners sat there in mute silence before Bow finally spoke. “Catra, what the heck just happened?”
Catra voice was softly thoughtful when she finally mustered an answer. “I… I think we were too alike.”
*
TWIGGIT VILLAGE
October 14, 16:15 UCT
Melog growled low, mane flaring. The scuttled hover-tank raised all the feyline’s hackles, despite the blueish vines choking its rusted chassis. It still bore the scarlet-winged sigil of the Great Enemy… the Destroyer.
“’Salright,” said Spiritina, patting the fey’s flank. “It’s dead.”
Dead?
Of course, the Twiggets had no understanding of advanced technology. A rampaging war-machine was just another predator to them.
Spiritina scampered up the tank’s corroded shell, disappearing into the inky black of its access hatch. Melog shrunk to the size of a common earth house cat before following warily. They sensed no duplicity or ill-will from the Twiggit, but still…
The interior of the tank was like the inside of a furnace. Pipes and wires were sizzling hot, funneling energy into the strange construct where the anti-grav reactor used to be. It was like a great cocoon woven from green-grey metal plating, pulsing like an iron heart. Suddenly the pulsing stopped, alloyed plates peeling back, hellish red light streaming out from within.
The low growl rose again from somewhere deep inside Melog.
“Shhh,” chided Spirtina. “He’s wakin’ up.”
*
CASTLE DARK MOON
October 14, 15:16 UCT
M’comm’s body was still shaking, his mind racing. He couldn’t even still himself enough to levitate, much less density shift, as he stalked through the darkling citadel’s corridors.
I have to warn Lord Eclipso, he thought.
Idiot! She’ll kill you!
We’re all dead if I say nothing.
He froze as the corridor forked in two before him. One path led to the throne room, the other back to his private quarters; where he could simply hide and try to pretend none of this ever happened.
*
Upon her black throne at the heart of her shadowed citadel, Eclipso; Lord of Dark Moon, sat in silent contemplation. Her eyes were closed, her gaze inward. The statuesque Serpent Guard stood motionless in a circle of equally silent vigil about the throne room’s perimeter. A passing stranger might have been forgiven for thinking they’d stumbled into a mausoleum, had the creature currently wearing Queen Glimmer’s flesh been capable of forgiveness.
The black adamantine doors of the throne room suddenly flung open. The ebon-clad Serpent Guard leaped wordlessly into action, leveling crackling energy halberds at the spindly ash-white interloper.
The Darkling Queen’s ink black eyes snapped open. “Ma’alefa’ak, explain this outrage!”
M’comm raised his hands pleadingly. <Lord Eclipso, forgive my intrusion but… we must speak.>
“Approach.”
The Serpent Guard withdrew a step, allowing the Martian to throw himself prostrate at the foot of the black throne.
<My Lord, I throw myself on your mercy…> M’comm hesitated, trying to marshal his swirling thoughts into some coherent order.
Lord Eclipso cocked an eyebrow. “Oh?”
<I… I disobeyed you… I went to see the prisoners and… I scanned Catra’s mind.>
Lord Eclipso’s eyes hardened. “Leave us.”
The Serpent Guard quietly filled out of the chamber, as silent as a funerary procession. Once Eclipso and M’comm were alone, she turned her attention back to the cowering M’arzzan.
“What did you see?”
<The Great Work, my Lord. It’s unstable! If we activate it, the portal will destroy all reality! Everything will… end?>
M’comm looked up into her empty eyes in that moment. What he saw made his blood run cold. He had expected her to glare back at him with an expression of rage, shock, disbelief. What he hadn’t expected was a small knowing smile.
<You… you knew?>
“Of course we knew.”
Tendrils of darkness leaped from the shadowed corners of the throne room like striking vipers, coiling tight about M’comm’s limbs. He tried to density shift his way free, but could not phase through the coiling unmatter binding him. The tendrils pulled his limbs taut, spread-eagling the Martian in mid-air.
“Well, this is a disappointment,” sighed Eclipso. “We rather did like you, Ma’alefa’ak.”
<You lied to me!> M’comm raged back. <You promised the Great Work would remake M’arzz! You promised to free the A'ashenn from our oppression!?>
“And so we shall,” she cooed softly, as though reassuring a frightened child. “We will end the suffering of your people, forever… along with that of every other living thing in this misbegotten cosmos.”
<But why?!> He pleaded. <In H’ronmeer’s name, why?!>
“Because Creation was a mistake, and existence a farce,” she answered coldly. “The entire history of this cosmos is one of ceaseless, pointless conflict; Order against Chaos, Good against Evil, Life against Death. It can only end by returning all things to the purity of Unbeing whence they came.”
<You’re insane!>
“On the contrary, we are the only truly rational being in this entire universe.”
She reached out, softly caressing his skull-like face. “We thought you of all creatures would understand, M’comm M’orzz. Isn’t this what you’ve always really wanted, deep down in that secret place you’ve never admitted to yourself, an end to the struggle… an end to your pain?”
<NO!> He recoiled from her touch. <NOT LIKE THIS!!!>
The tendrils of unlight abruptly dissipated as M’comm crashed heaving to the floor.
“Very well, then. If you will not join us in the bliss of oblivion…” Eclipso’s eyes blazed with unholy black fire. “Then you may burn.”
In his natural form, M’comm had no vocal chords. Thus when the black flame engulfed his pale body, all he could do was let out a low gasping wheeze as his jaws distended and agony consumed his crackling flesh. His mind was white with pain as he ran to the great balcony behind the throne room, hurling his burning form into the abyss below.
Eclipso watched with mild interest as the Martian’s smoldering form disappeared into the still black lake below. It was unlikely he could survive the shock, but no point taking chances. With a gesture, she opened two void-black portals.
“Rattlor, Minerva, attend us!”
The ophidian general and the were-cheetah stepped from their respective portals, kneeling before the Darkling Queen.
“The Martian is an apostate to the Great Work,” she intoned coolly. “Bring us his ashes.”
*
CRYPTO-CASTLE, DRYL
October 14, 17:47 UCT
An image flickered to life across the shimmering screen: a grim black monolithic fortress nestled between two barren mountain peaks. The dim purple glow illuminated the four figures huddled tight about the cramped console.
“One of our EKS units transmitted this before it was terminated by the Snake Troopers,” said Hordak. “It’s the closest we’ve ever gotten to Dark Moon itself.”
“‘Dark Moon’?” Kara deadpanned. “We’re seriously calling it that?”
“What’s that?” asked Superboy, pointing out the ring of arcane machinery circling the fortress.
“Death,” answered Hordak bluntly. “Brother Kalibak, ready all rebel forces for immediate deployment. I want to be ready to march on Dark Moon by the next moonrise.”
The hulking Apokoliptan gave a monosyllabic grunt of acknowledgment before lumbering off.
“Wait, you’re just going to throw all your forces at a single target?” Kara blurted.
“Kara’s right, Hordak,” said Superboy. “I know running an insurgency isn’t exactly your element but-”
“There is no time for buts,” Hordak cut him off. “Or to wait for reinforcements from Earth. We already burnt-out the subspace ansible with your request.”
“At least leave some of your forces in reserve here in case the attack doesn’t go well.”
Hordak’s blood-red eyes hardened. “If this attack does not ‘go well’, Superboy, We’re all as good as dead regardless.”
*
UNICORN ISLAND
October 14, 17:49 UCT
The Growling Sea lived up to its name. Dark purple waves rumbled like the belly of hungering beasts, before crashing on the pearl-white sands with mournful sighs.
"Heave, lads!" Sea Hawk crowed encouragingly, posing atop the Dragon's Daughter. "That's the spirit, me boyos!"
Below, Arsenal and Devil Ray were straining to pull the prow of the ship ashore. Sweat beaded from their foreheads despite the chill sea-breeze, and the icy water soaking into Arsenal’s boots.
“You could help, you know!?” Arsenal snapped.
“I am helping! With my…” Sea Hawk leaped from the prow, landing in the pearly sand, striking a dynamic pose. “INSPIRING LEADERSHIP!!!”
“I’m beginning to understand how the crew on the HMS Bounty felt,” grumbled Arsenal under his breath.
“Why are we here, Sea Hawk?” Devil Ray asked, interjecting himself between his two shipmates. “You said we were here to pick up ‘reinforcements’.”
“That we are, my fair lad,” answered Sea Hawk, before placing two fingers to his lips and letting loose a high whinnying whistle. The three men stood silent for a moment, waiting, expecting…
Arsenal glared at the sea captain, arms crossed. “Well?”
“Ah… yes… um… not to worry!” Sea Hawk fidgeted. “The natives are just a little… shy sometimes.”
“Yeah, right.” Arsenal turned back to the Dragon’s Daughter. “Get in the boat, Angelo.”
“Roy? What are you doing?” Devil Ray asked.
“Casting off. I am done humoring this ass-”
“Hey, not cool, dude,” a new voice abruptly cut in. “Some of my best friends are asses, you know?”
“Wha-” Something rushed over Arsenal’s head with a gust of displaced air and the thrumming of great beating wings before landing on the beach. “Woah!”
It was like something out of a fairy tale, the most magnificent horse Roy Harper had ever seen. Its coat was a shimmering snow-white, with a mane like dancing orange flames. But even more magnificent was the single horn of spiraling gold that grew from its forehead, and the wide rainbow-feathered wings rising from its shoulders.
Sea Hawk threw his arms wide, as though to hug the great steed. “Swift Wind!”
“Yo, Sea Hawk! ‘Sup, bro?” the equine spoke.
“HOLY FUCK!?! A TALKING HORSE!?!” Arsenal shrieked.
Swift Wind let out a long suffering sigh. “And we’re doing this again.”
*
WHISPERING WOODS
October 14, 17:52 UCT
“What do you mean something’s ‘eating the sun’?” Tigress demanded, standing in the indigo light of Halo’s Boom-Tube.
“GL called it a ‘sun eater’,” Cyborg’s static-tinged voice answered from Tigress’s comm. “Yeah yeah, I know. Near as we can tell it’s somekinda energy parasite. Watchtower’s sensors picked it up shortly after you guys left for Etheria. Temperatures are dropping, and panic rising, all across the globe. We’ve already got the League, the Outsiders, the rest of the Team and even the Reserves deployed to contain the chaos while the big brains figure out a solution.”
Tigress couldn’t help but find the timing suspect, especially given Eclipso’s whole ‘theme’. “Can you spare anyone?”
“Sorry, Tee. But right now, I can’t even spare Harley.”
Tigress sighed. “I was afraid you were gonna say something like that.
“I could try the Tower of Fate again? Ol’ Buckethead’s about the only cape still unaccounted for.”
“Appreciate that, Cy. Keep me posted. Tigress out.” She deactivated her comm as the Boom-Tube collapsed into itself, before turning back to Miss Martian, Halo, and Adora. “It’s official, squad. We’re on our own.”
“The fate of the universe resting on the four of us?” Adora tried to force a smile that came out more like a grimace. “No biggie… right?”
<It would not matter if there were four thousand of you.>
The four heroes leaped to their feet as a towering figure came shambling out of the undergrowth, its swaying form cloaked in a makeshift patchwork of tattered rags. It took another step into the clearing before collapsing with a pained wheeze.
Miss Martian was first to the fallen figure’s side, pulling back a ragged hood to reveal a skull-like face. It’s normally ash-white flesh covered in oozing wet-green welts.
“Oh my god…” she gasped. “M’comm!?”
<Hello, M’gann,> her brother answered weakly. <I’m getting better at sneaking up on you.>
*
SALEM
OCTOBER 14, 21:52 EDT
“By the power of the Sword of He and the Staff of Havok, Ro was transformed into He-Ro; the Most Powerful Wizard in the Universe. For an age, the Cosmic Warrior and the Great Darkness dueled across the stars. But the Darkness was eternal and Ro was yet mortal. With every tick of the cosmic clock, his strength waned, his wits dimmed until it seemed the Darkness would finally overtake him.
“And so, as their final battle drew to a close, He-Ro wove one last spell. Drawing upon the full magics of the Two Keys to Power, and the last ember of his own lifeforce, He-Ro bound the Great Darkness within the form of an immense Black Diamond before casting it forever into the void between the stars.
“Or so he had hoped,” the Phantom Stranger concluded.
A tense silence fell upon the inner sanctum at the heart of the Tower of Fate. Not even a breath echoed in the stillness of its hyper-dimensional architecture until…
“This we did not know,” replied Doctor Fate, their normally resounding voice wavering. A small lizard curled fearfully under the collar of their cloak.
“The absence of even a fallen Lord of Order unsettles the Holy Balance. Nature and supernature alike abhor a vacuum,” The Stranger fixed the Sorceror Supreme with his pale milky eyes. “And inevitably, that vacuum would be filled.”
“By us?”
The Stranger nodded somberly. “Now do you see why your masters forbade you to interfere in Eclipso’s machinations?”
Fate turned, eyes hardening behind his impassive golden faceplate. “They intend to replace us.”
The Stranger sighed, shaking his head. “For a god of wisdom, you are painfully blinkered, Nabu.”
Fate rounded on the Stranger. “What do you mean?”
“Barely a year and a half has passed since Etheria returned to this plane of existence. Yet in that time, it has triggered a chain of events that has already overthrown Horde Prime and even Dread Darkseid himself, two of the most potent agents of Order in this galaxy. Did you really think your masters would allow that to go unchallenged?”
“Enough dancing, Stranger,” Fate snapped. “Speak plainly or not at all.”
“The Lords of Order dare not act against Etheria directly, for fear of triggering Chaos’ reprisals. But should the world be destroyed by a fallen Lord, an exiled rogue… Well, the Host of Law could hardly be blamed.”
“IDIOTS!” Fate’s eyes were wide with fury. “Hubristic fools! Do they truly believe the Host of Anarchy will be placated by such naked sophistry!? Chaos will retaliate!”
“Yes, they will. And Order will be obliged to respond in kind. And with each strike the conflict will escalate.”
“It will be war.”
“War the likes of which this reality has not seen since the very birth pangs of Creation,” the Stranger concurred. “A war that can only end with the desolation of space-time itself… and the final shrieking death of all organic consciousness.”