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Chapter Text

STAR CITY

September 16, 17:01 PDT

A stubborn summer heat clung heavily to the city, even this late into what was ostensibly Fall. The afternoon sun continued to sear the world below, raging against its own fate as it was inexorably dragged down to the horizon. The only relief was the cool salt breeze that wafted occasionally over the bustling docks from the shimmering western sea. Though even that came far too infrequently.

This can’t be normal, she thought to herself, chugging down the lukewarm dregs of her water bottle. She paused to regard her reflection in the window of the prefabricated security shack that guarded entrance to the pier.

To all outward appearances, she was a slender human woman of indeterminate ethnicity, twentyish or thereabouts. She wore a simple uniform; navy blue cap, dark shades, sky blue short-sleeve shirt, dark grey slacks and glossy black shoes that felt absolutely suffocating on her feet.

About the only thing she wore that didn’t conform to the official Bowhunter Security dress code was the small amber pendant hanging from the black choker about her neck.

The reflection was a stranger’s.

“Yo, Probie!” a harsh voice rang out across the docks. It belonged to a young man in the same uniform as herself, red hair shorn tight to the scalp. He waved her over with a prosthetic hand.

She sighed, shuffling over.

“Good of you to join us,” snarked Roy Harper, Bowhunter Security’s resident jerkwad and her immediate superior. He gestured to a man in black by his side. “Blake, this is Daniel Temple. He’s representing our client, ARBKO Ltd. Mr. Temple, this is Kat Blake, Bowhunter Security’s latest recruit.”

“Hey,” she replied laconically.

“Charmed.” Temple’s nose wrinkled in a way that made clear he was anything but. “Mr. Harper, I shouldn’t need to impress upon you that ARBKO has a great deal invested in this shipment, more than you could possibly imagine.”

He gestured to the large cargo ship currently docked at the pier – the S.S. Buto – currently being loaded with dozens of steel shipping crates.

“Are you certain you can entrust the security of this operation to an… intern?”

He pronounced the word like slur.

“Believe me, Mr. Temple,” Roy replied. “What Blake here may lack in the social graces, she more than makes up for in killer instinct.”

Temple’s eyes narrowed to slits, eying her skeptically. “I should hope so.”

“So, where did you say this barge was headed again?” Roy asked casually.

“I didn’t, Mr. Harper,” Temple turned to take his leave. “Just ensure sure the shipment is loaded aboard and secured before the Buto departs.”

“Will do, Mr. Temple,” Roy saluted cheerily, waiting until the darkly clad man was out of earshot before turning to his colleague. “Great hustle, Probie. Way to put the client at ease with that friendly customer service.”

“Whatever,” she scoffed. “He’s a creep.”

“Of course, Temple’s a creep, but that’s no excuse for being unprofessional.”

“My last job didn’t exactly put much stress on politeness.”

“Just clear the last truck through the checkpoint,” Roy tossed her a clipboard. “The sooner ARBKO gets their junk stowed, the sooner we can call it quitting time.”

She caught the clipboard in mid-air. “Fine.”

Clearing the trucks wasn’t a particularly arduous task. Largely it consisted of verifying the driver’s ID and inspecting the seals on the steel crates inside to ensure they were still unbroken. She had no idea what was in the crates. If Roy did, he kept it to himself.

Satisfied, she hopped out of the back of the truck and closed it behind her. All she had to do now was wave the truck through the checkpoint and let the dock workers take over. She was about to do just that when something metallic rolled across the asphalt, clinking against her shoe. She glanced down, eyes going wide.

“GRENADE!!!”

She jumped clear just as the grenade detonated, blanketing the dock with a cloud of billowing grey smoke that stung the eyes and burned the throat. She fell to her knees, coughing and sputtering until someone forced a gas mask over her face.

“Get your head in the game, Probie!” Roy shouted through his own mask, his prosthetic arm reconfiguring into a taser.

A hulking figure barreled through the acrid smoke, clad in a tatty oversized grey hoodie. He paused only to tear the side door from the stopped truck with a wrenching metallic screech, before casually ripping the choking driver from their seat and tossing them to the asphalt.

“Stand down!” Roy barked, taking aim with his taser as ‘Probie’ checked on the driver.

The hulking figure grunted something under his breath, ignoring the order.

“One warning, asshole!”

Roy fired.

Before the hulking figure could squeeze his bulk into the truck’s cabs, two taser lines hit him directly in the chest, sending an electric jolt through his massive frame. The figure staggered back in convulsions, snarling as he tore the taser prongs from his chest. He paused to finger the twin pinprick holes of singed fabric left by the weapon.

“Dammit,” swore a voice laced with gravel. “This was my last hoodie!”

“Wait a minute, I know that voice…” Roy said. “Brick?”

The figure pulled back his frayed hood to reveal a broad face of dark red granite. Danny ‘Brick’ Brickwell had once been Star City’s premier metahuman crime lord. Not that anyone would guess from the patchy days-old stubble covering his face, or the desperate haggard gleam in his dark eyes.

“Mother of Goat, Brick…” Roy swore, keeping his weapon-arm trained on the disheveled gangster. “What happened to you, man?”

“‘What happened to me’? You have the sheer fucking gall to ask ‘WHAT HAPPENED TO ME!?!’” Brick bellowed indignantly. “YOU happened to me! You have any idea what getting busted by you goddam rent-a-cops did to my rep?! After I busted outta Belle Reve, nobody on the streets would take me seriously anymore! I’m a joke now! Even the fucking Ten-Eyed-Man is laughing at me! THE TEN-EYED-MAN!” He patted the side of the truck like a starving bear patting a honey pot. “But this ARBKO score is my ticket back to the top!”

“Do you even know what’s in that truck?” Roy asked.

“Don’t care,” Brick answered, edging back towards the truck. “As long as it’s expensive.”

“More than you can afford!”

Roy’s cybernetic arm rapidly shifted into its laser cannon configuration. But not rapid enough to stop Brick snatching up the torn cab door and tossing it like a discus.

“DOWN!”

‘Probie’ tackled Roy to the ground as the cab door went sailing mere inches over their heads. By the time they both staggered back to their feet, the truck was already screeching down the asphalt.

“Later, rent-a-cops!” Brick laughed heartily, his voice rapidly fading into the distance.

“You good?” ‘Probie’ asked.

“Yeah, I think so-” Roy inhaled sharply; a shard of metal shrapnel was jammed in the elbow of his prosthetic limb. The cybernetic joint ground and sputtered as he tried to move it. “Well, that’s just fucking astrous. No way we’re catching him now.”

‘Probie’ glanced at the long block of warehouses to her left. Brick would have to loop around them to reach the open road. She yanked off her tight shoes.

“Maybe not.”

She dashed barefoot across the asphalt, shimmying up the warehouse walls with inhuman speed and nimbleness.

“Probie, wait!” Roy cried.

Too late, she’d already disappeared over the roof.

*

Working the wheel of the cramped truck cab while making a speedy getaway wasn’t easy for someone with Brick’s frame, but it would all be worth it. This score would put him back on top; he’d be feared again, respected. The thought warmed his cold heart as he sped recklessly towards the dock exit. All he had to do now was hit the gas, ram through the final checkpoint and he’d be home free.

Something landed on the roof of the cab with a shuddering thud. Brick turned to see the Bowhunter girl’s face hanging upside down from the empty doorframe on his left.

“Pull over,” she deadpanned, pony-tail whipping in the wind.

“LIKE HELL!”

Brick swerved left, hoping to scrape his unwanted passenger off against the warehouse walls racing past. As his hefty frame tilted with the truck, the girl darted up out of sight. The next thing Brick knew, two bare feet struck him from the right. Caught off guard, the metacrook went sliding out of the cab, tumbling down the cracked asphalt like a runaway boulder.

The truck skidded to a halt at the base of an overhanging crane as a bare foot hit the brakes. The girl hopped lightly from the cab. “Huh, that was surprisingly fun.”

“No way…” Brick fumed, clambering to his feet. “Getting busted by glorified rent-a-cops is one thing, but no way in Hell am I’m going down to a goddamn intern!”

The girl scoffed. “Whatcha gonna do about it, big guy, whine me to death?”

“I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do, girlie. I’m gonna tear your head off with my BARE HANDS!!!” Brick charged forward with a roar, his massive meat hooks reaching to follow through on his gruesome threat.

The girl leaped over Brick’s head at the last moment. His flailing fingers managed to clasp around the amber pendant hanging from her neck, tearing her choker free as she sailed to safety.

Brick rammed uncontrollably into the base of the crane, bringing the whole structure crashing down on top of him. Unbreakable rocky skin and superhuman durability meant the falling steel wreckage did him no serious injury, but it was enough to pin the already exhausted and sleep-deprived gangster to the concrete.

He weakly raised his head, glaring up at his victorious foe to find her form completely altered. Her skin was covered in a coat of fine orange fur, two pointed ears peeking out from atop her shaggy head. Her long tail flicked back and forth as she glared down at him with contemptuous heterochromatic blue/yellow eyes.

“The Hell are you?” Brick groaned.

“Like you said…” Catra re-secured her cap. “I’m an intern.”

*

STAR CITY

September 17, 19:11 PDT

Once upon a time, I was falling in love

Now I'm only falling apart

There's nothing I can do

A total eclipse of the heart

Artemis Crock hummed along as Bonnie Tyler belted out the climactic chords of the classic power ballad from a small MP3 player on the kitchen table. She was currently going over the lesson plan for her introductory course on Vietnamese literature, a pair of gold-rimmed glasses balanced on the tip of her nose.

Her concentration was broken by a giggling six-year-old girl racing through the kitchen, chasing what appeared to be a common dark-grey housecat. The cat darted up the fridge, perching atop it like an eagle.

“Lian Nguyen-Harper,” Artemis chided her niece. “What did we say about playing tag in the house?”

“It was Melog’s idea,” Lian pleaded as the seeming housecat pounced, landing on her head with a flop.

Artemis lifted the nonplussed feline from Lian’s head, looking them directly in the eye. “And if Melog wanted to jump off a bridge, would you go along with it, hmm?”

Lian shrugged. “If there was a bungee cord.”

“Hunnies, we’re home!” a voice rang out from the hall.

“Daddy!” Lian squeed with delight, running into the arms of Will Harper.

The Bowhunter Security CEO grunted as he hefted his daughter up in his arms. “Hey, baby-girl!”

Catra came shuffling behind Will, utterly exhausted.

“Someone’s been working late,” Artemis said, poking a head out of the kitchen to greet her brother-in-law and her protégé. “Take down another meta-crime lord?”

“Not exactly,” Will answered.

“Uuugh, Roy made me rewrite my report on the whole Brick mess,” Catra groaned, kicking off her shoes and flopping herself down on the couch. “I mean… Why!? He was there!?”

“Proper paperwork is an important part of the job,” Will chided. “It can’t all be kicking bad guys in the face.”

“Kick in the face! Kick in the face!” Lian cheered.

Will side-eyed his daughter. “You worry me, sometimes.”

Catra fingered the amber pendent hanging from her neck. “Can I take this off, now?”

“One sec,” Artemis drew the curtains as the dying sun finally slipped below the horizon. “Okay, go ahead.”

Catra undid the silk choker, dispelling the glamour charm that projected a human appearance about her.

At the same time, Melog’s form began to shift and expand as they shook off their own guise. In moments, the tiny grey housecat was replaced by a large pantherish creature with mane of shimmering blue mist.

“Oooh, Catra!” Lian ran up to the Etherian on the sofa with a crayon scrawled page. “I drew a picture of you!”

“Oh, wow, squirt!” Catra examined the abstract scrawls. “It looks totally crash!”

Lian looked unamused. “You’re holding it upside down.”

“I knew that! That’s just how we look at stuff on Etheria cuz… we’re aliens!”

“Speaking of Etheria, you know it’s almost seven-sixteen right?” Artemis called from the kitchen.

“Oh crud!” Catra immediately leaped from couch, tail rod-stiff as she raced down the hall to the guest room she’d been staying in for the past two months.

“No running in the house!” Artemis cried after her, before dropping into a low mutter. “Seriously, kids these days.”

*

“C’mon, c’mon…” Catra perched on the edge of her shabbily made bed like a gargoyle, fidgeting with the dials on her Etherian data-pad. The flickering static tinged screen cast a pale green sheen over her anxious face.

The pad had a secure uplink to the sub-space relay on-board the Justice League’s orbital Watchtower. It was Catra’s only connection back to her distant homeworld. But the vagaries of Earth, the Watchtower and Etheria’s relative orbits made optimal windows for two-way sub-space transmissions eclectic at best.

“C’mon, you stupid-”

She was about to smack the pad when the image suddenly resolved into a frowning girl with short-cropped dirty-blond hair and a poufy red jacket.

“Hello?” the blond girl tapped the screen. “You sure this thing is on, Bow?”

“Hey, Adora!” Catra instantly lit up at sight of her girlfriend, the sound of her voice, the way her brow scrunched up when she was worried.

“Oh, hi Catra!” Adora’s own face brightened, her warm smile spreading like a new dawn. “I was afraid I missed you!?”

“Not a chance,” Catra chortled. “Are you alone or-”

“Heeey, Catra!” Bow beamed, emerging from the left side of the screen.

“Hi, Horde Scum!” Glimmer trilled, her pink-haired head poking in from the other end.

“Hey, Bow! Hey, Sparkles!” Catra greeted the master-archer and Sorceress-Queen with a snorty laugh. “You dorks keeping Adora out of trouble without me?”

“Ah you know how it is,” Bow answered. “Still cleaning up the mess left over from that big Apokolips invasion. How about you? How’s the whole Earth superhero thing going?”

“Ugh, not so super,” Catra groaned, falling back on the bed. “It’s all just busy work. ‘Probie, file that report’, ‘Probie, go pick up an extra box of staples’, ‘Probie, change the filter in the coffee machine’. I’m like a cross between a guard and a janitor.” Her eyes went wide in sudden realization. “Oh crap, I sound just like Kyle! Am I the Kyle, now?!”

“Well, just keep at it,” Bow said encouragingly. “I’m sure you’ll make it work.”

“And if not, you can just run away… like you do from everything,” Glimmer muttered darkly.

Catra lifted herself from the bed with a frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Why don’t we leave Catra and Adora alone, Glimmer,” Bow interjected awkwardly, taking his girlfriend aside. “I’m sure you two have a lot to catch up on?”

“Yeah… sure,” Catra said.

“Sorry about that,” said Adora once Bow and Glimmer had left. “I don’t know what’s got into Glimmer lately. Must be queen stress or something.”

“Nah, it’s cool,” Catra shrugged. “I guess I can’t really complain when somebody gets a little snarky. How about you? You doing okay with… everything?”

Catra didn’t have to specify what ‘everything’ meant. Four months ago, Adora had been abducted by Granny Goodness and taken to the hellish fortress-world of Apokolips. Granny had taken perverse delight in twisting Adora’s mind and body into her latest Fury, the dark warrior known as Despara.

With a little help from the heroes of Earth, Catra, Glimmer and Bow had managed to rescue Adora from that nightmare planet and restore her true self. But that still left her a long way from being healed.

“I’m doing good, really,” Adora answered wearily. “Bow and Glimmer have been super supportive, and the weekly sub-space sessions with Dr. Quinzel are really helping. I’ve actually been trying to convince Kara to give it a try but…”

Catra quietly snorted at the image of the brash Kryptonian teen actually sitting through a therapy session. Though admittedly, Catra had only met Kara Zor-El once a handful of times before leaving Etheria.

Kara had been another of Granny Goodness’ ‘pet projects’. One of the last Kryptonians in the known galaxy, she’d somehow ended up on Apokolips, where she’d been swiftly conscripted into Granny’s Furies.

As Adora told it, the younger girl had quickly grafted onto ‘Despara’ as a kind of surrogate big sister. After Apokolips’ attempted invasion of Etheria months ago, Kara had elected to stay in Bright Moon. She had family on Earth but was seemingly not on speaking terms with them. Which in Catra’s mind was totally fair. She wouldn’t have been caught dead on the same planet as Shadow Weaver if he could’ve helped it.

“So, any plans for tomorrow?” Catra asked.

“Not much, we’re heading off to Seaworthy to check out some weird monster sightings.”

Catra frowned. “Monster sightings?”

“You know what sailors are like, it’s probably nothing.”

“So… you got some time to kill?”

“Sure, why do you ask?”

Catra grinned wickedly, biting her bottom lip. She quickly dashed to the bedroom door, locking it before throwing herself back on the bed.

“’Cuz right now…” Catra purred, slowly popping the top button of her Bowhunter Security shirt. “I really… really need to get this uniform off.”

*

“So, there’s Roy when Harlan – still disguised as the ficus, mind you – breaks into a full rendition of Feed Me, Seymour!” Will doubled over in hysterical fits as he finished his story, rinsing the dinner plate before handing it off. “You should’ve seen the look on his face, Art… Artemis?”

“Hmm… sorry, Will.” Artemis took the proffered plate and started drying. “Million miles away.”

She’d been considering Catra, currently dozing on the living room couch in ripped jeans and an oversized black t-shirt. An old rerun of Space Trek: The Original Series played on the TV, relic of a time when the Klamulons were just bald guys in racially dubious face paint.

Will slipped on a pair of tick rubber gloves before taking steel wool to the burnt-on remains of last night’s casserole with a vengeance. “I gotta admit, when you first recommended Catra for the Bowhunter internship, I thought you’d…”

“Totally lost mind?”

“Your words, not mine. But I gotta admit she’s really come a long way in a few short weeks. Even Roy’s impressed.”

Artemis cocked a skeptical brow. “All Catra talks about is how Roy constantly gives her a hard time.”

“Roy gives everybody a hard time. It’s how he shows affection. Still not totally clear why she has to live with us though?”

“Catra’s not exactly… welcome at the Hub.”

Now it was Will’s turn to cock an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Not my story to tell.”

“Okaaay. Well, I’m just glad Lian likes her.”

“She is surprisingly good with kids.”

“You know,” Will held the more or less pristine casserole dish to the light. “She may just be ready for something a little more challenging than guarding cargo trucks and writing reports.”

Artemis turned to regard to feline alien sprawled on the couch. “Maybe.”

*

“Whu-whut?”

Catra groaned as someone prodded her back into the waking world. She rubbed dream sand from bleary eyes to find Artemis in full Tigress regalia looming over her.

“Artemis? What’s going on?”

“Catnap’s over, sleepy bones!” Tigress smirked, cocking a crossbow. “We’re going hunting.”

*

STAR CITY

September 18, 01:04 PDT

Three foiled muggings and a thwarted armed robbery later, Tigress and Catra found themselves in an upscale jewelers, where a gang of aspiring diamond thieves found themselves having a very very bad night.

Catra absently backhanded a thief. “Are you serious?”

“Very serious, if you want it.” Tigress pinned another goon to the wall with a crossbow bolt through the fabric of his hoodie. “Mind, you’ll still have to keep up with your ‘day job’.”

Before Catra could answer, the last thief jumped her from behind.

“Hey, we’re talking here?!!” Catra snarled, flipping the thief over her shoulder, slamming them into the ground. She took a moment the survey the jewelers, broken glass and spilled gems scattered across the plush purple carpet. “We don’t have to clean this up, do we?”

“So…?” Tigress asked expectantly.

“Well, of course I want it!” Catra panted, yet absolutely stoked. “I’ve been waiting for a chance like this for weeks!”

Tigress extended a hand. “Then it’s official.”

Catra hesitated, but only for a split second, before gratefully taking the open hand.

Tigress smiled. “Welcome to the Team.”

*

S.S. BUTO

September 18, 00:07 UCT-10

Daniel Temple was silent and still as a statue, meditating in the dark solitude of his cabin. The only sounds were the soft lapping waves of the South Pacific and his own breathing, each echoing the other as though timed to the heartbeat of the cosmos itself.

He had always considered himself a God fearing man. Unlike so many others, Daniel had been born into the Order, born and raised to serve the Living God. When Daniel had been selected to serve as the Right Hand of the Sublime Master over eleven years ago, he had been both humbled and ecstatic.

Daniel would stand by his god’s side as He ushered in the final stage of the Kali Yuga, when the corrupt old world would be washed away in fire and blood and a new Eden born from the ashes. Daniel would be the first to bear witness the Sublime Master shed His mortal flesh, as a serpent does its skin, to assume His true celestial aspect in the Heavenly Pleroma. Daniel would lead the faithful as they assumed their ordained role as heirs of a purified Creation.

But that’s not quite how it happened, was it?

Santa Prisca, Minneapolis, Delhi; each failed scheme had only served to feed the seed of doubt germinating in Daniel’s heart until its creeping vines nearly choked his soul. That ridiculous plot to convert the entire world with TV transmissions had merely been the final straw that broke Daniel’s faith.

Looking back, Daniel wondered how he could have ever believed that would even work. Watching his ‘Sublime Master’ dragged off by a pack of spandex-clad children, Daniel had nearly been broken by the bleakness of sudden revelation.

His ‘god’, the being to whom he had dedicated his every waking moment since birth, had been a mere mortal after all. Worse, the ‘Sublime Master’ had been nothing but a self-deluded lunatic, just another gaudily costumed would-be tyrant in a world was already groaning under a surfeit of tyrants.

Many of Daniel’s brethren had taken their own lives that night, rather than live in a universe suddenly empty of God’s light. Others had declared themselves the Sublime Master’s true successor, grasping for power as the Order was riven by schism and sectarianism like a snake devouring its own tail.

At the time, Daniel had cursed the chaos of those dark desperate days. Now he understood how necessary it had been. Chaos was the purifying flame that burned away the old so the new could be born.

Daniel had a new God now, a true deity who would soon cast down all tyrants and false idols. Then humanity would become as the Lords of the Kali Yuga; free and wild and beyond good and evil, with laws and morals thrown aside and all shouting and killing and reveling in joy. The Lords of the Kali Yuga would teach them new ways to shout and kill and revel and enjoy themselves, and all the earth would flame with a holocaust of ecstasy and freedom.

Knock-knock.

The door was unlocked, naturally. None aboard would dare trespass upon Daniel’s sanctum.

“Enter.”

A young woman clad in a crimson robe stepped softly as she entered with a demure bow. “Brother Daniel, the Order is assembled on deck per your request.”

“Very good, Sister.” He couldn’t recall her name; it hardly mattered.

Brother Daniel rose, pulling up the scarlet hood of his own robe before following her through the silent hallways of the ship, up unto the open deck where at least a hundred of his brethren stood in rapt expectation. Their crimson hoods seemed almost black in the white moonlight, faces hidden behind silver shining masks cast in the image of fanged serpents.

“Hail, my Siblings,” He exalted, arms raised to the watching cosmos.

“Hail Kobra!”

Chapter Text

STAR CITY

September 18, 20:16 PDT

It wasn’t the first ‘Vault’ or even the second. It was just the latest in a long line of safe houses/weapons caches used by the heroes of Star City, sometimes only half-jokingly called the ‘Arrowcave’. It was now being used by Tigress, Catra and Melog to suit-up before catching a Zeta-Beam to the Justice League’s orbital headquarters.

Catra stood in front of a full-length mirror, appraising her new costume. At first glance, it looked much like her old Force Captain uniform, minus the Horde’s bat-winged insignia. But the differences went far deeper than that.

She tapped a discreet spot hidden in the fabric somewhere near her clavicle. Instantly the dark red material turned night black. Another tap and it was dark red once again.

Melog trilled approvingly.

“If you keep doing that, you’ll go blind!” Tigress called from across the room, loading her quiver.

“Wait, seriously!?”

“Nah, just an old Earth joke. But you will annoy the Hell outta your new team-mates.”

“Sorry, it’s just… augmented reality contact lenses, stealth-tech… we never had anything like this back in the Horde?”

“Really? I thought the Horde was supposed to be a somekinda super-advanced galactic empire?”

“Honestly, I think Hordak was just cheap.”

“I’m guessing fancy new threads aren’t the real reason you’re so fidgety?”

Catra almost clammed up, before Melog gave her an encouraging nuzzle.

“It’s just… I’m not good with, you know… people.”

Tigress clasped her shoulder. “Hey, you’ll do great. Just… speaking as the voice of experience, try not to be defensive. You got nothing to prove to anyone up there.”

Catra snorted. “No promises.”

The three felines stepped into the Zeta-Tube, its built-in computer scanning their biometrics as it powered up.

Recognized:

Tigress-B-Zero-Seven,

Melog-C-Zero-Six,

Catra-B-Three-Nine.

*

THE WATCHTOWER

September 18, 23:19 EDT

Catra stepped out of the golden glow of the whirling Zeta-Tube, just behind Tigress and Melog. The polished floor of the Watchtower’s main foyer was cool beneath her bare feet as a breath caught in her throat.

This wasn’t Catra’s was far from Catra’s first time in planetary orbit. Still, it wasn’t easy getting used to the sight of an entire world suspended in the starry black. Earth dominated the view from the massive panoramic window that filled a whole wall of the vaulting hall, two stories high and at least that wide.

It was an intimidating sight, though not quite as intimidating as the five youths who stood in a loose knot in the foyer, casually chatting.

“I’m going to need a while to set up for the briefing,” Tigress said. “Why don’t you go mingle?”

Catra’s guts twisted. “Maybe I could help you-”

Tigress waved back, disappearing into a side room. “Go. Mingle.”

Catra stood there, as though bolted to the polished floor before Melog shoved her forward with a not too gentle head-butt.

“Quit it,” Catra hissed under her breath.

One of the figures turned, a dark-skinned youth in a dark hooded costume. Their face instantly lit up.

“Catra?!” Halo trilled.

Too late.

“H-hey, Rainbow!”

Violet Harper, AKA Halo, had been one of the first Earthlings to try and befriend Catra during the Apokolips crisis, and one of the few to actually succeed. It was an admittedly odd friendship. Halo was the kind of person Catra would normally have found insufferable, tooth-achingly sweet, eager to help, a kind word for everyone. But at the time, Catra had desperately needed a kind word.

“Come on,” Halo tugged Catra’s arm. “I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

Catra allowed herself to be led toward the rest of the group when a far less welcome voice intruded.

“Well, well, finally made it, Probie?”

Roy Harper was clad all in black and red, wearing a tiny domino mask that Catra figured was supposed to hide his identity. He smirked smugly.

“Welcome to the big leagues.”

Catra couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic. “Hi, Roy.”

His smirk vanished. “It’s ‘Arsenal’ when we’re on mission, Probie. Throwing around real names with bad guys in earshot is a good way to get people killed.”

“Wouldn’t that be a shame?” she deadpanned.

“Har har,” he deadpanned back at her.

“And this is Thirteen.” Halo gestured to a girl with almond eyes and red-brown hair tied back in a ponytail. A small green lizard perched on her shoulder. “Thirteen, Catra.”

“Hey, Thirteen.”

“You can call me ‘Traci’,” Thirteen said. “Since last time I checked, there aren’t many bad guys skulking around the Watchtower,” she added loud enough for Arsenal to hear.

Catra snorted. She liked this one.

Melog chirped approvingly.

“Whoa,” Thirteen kneeled ‘til she was at eye level with the alien fey. “Are they yours?”

“Melog’s not my pet, if that’s what you mean,” Catra answered. “They belong to themself.”

“I get it, Leroy’s the same way,” Thirteen replied, giving her lizard a quick chin scratch. She extended an open palm. “May I?”

Melog chirped their consent. Thirteen placed her hand on the fey’s brow, her eyes glowing a soft purple.

“Incredible,” Thirteen murmured. “It’s like they’re made of living magic. We haven’t seen anything like this on Earth since Faery Courts cut off contact back in the Sixteenth Century.”

Catra was sure she had understood at least half of those words. “Oh… neat?”

“Traci is Earth’s Sorceress Supreme,” Halo added by way of explanation.

“Technically, I’m only Sorceress Supreme one week out of four,” Thirteen said. “The other three, I’m just a basic witch.”

A new figure strode forward, clad in high-tech glossy black armor stenciled with a grinning scarlet demon. The eyes of his flat manta-helm burned blood-red as they locked on Catra.

Catra immediately tense, as though for a fight, before Halo intervened. “Catra, this is-”

“No need for introductions,” the armored figure intoned; the speakers of his helm made his voice deep and dark as an oceanic abyss. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this, Catra.”

He removed his helm to reveal a smiling boyish face with light brown skin and dark golden curls, gill-slits running down his neck. Catra’s brain took a moment to catch up before recognition dawned.

 “Sea Angel!?”

“Actually, I go by ‘Devil Ray’ nowadays,” the young man spoke in a light Ozzie brogue, extending an armored hand. “But to you, it’s always ‘Angelo’.”

“Whoa, Angelo!? You look badass, dude!” Catra trilled, taking armoured gauntlet by the wrist. “When the heck did all this happen?!”

“Yeah, well, after… everything, I decided to give the ol’ Team game a try,” Devil Ray said, holding the black helm in the crook of his arm. “Kaldur’ahm was sound enough to spot me his old manta-suit, to make up for… well, you know yourself?”

Angelo del Rey, formerly known as the ‘Sea Angel’ had been one of Australia’s few metahuman heroes before being abducted by the alien organ thief called Modulok. The combined efforts of the Outsiders and the Etherian ‘Best Friend Squad’ had succeeded in saving the young hero, but not the graceful manta-like wings that had inspired his original codename.

“Yeah…” Catra said softly, before pointing out the wispy foreshadowing of a beard on his chin. “That’s new too?”

“HRT, just another miracle of modern science,” Devil Ray chuckled.

“Looks good on you.”

He stroked his fuzz thoughtfully. “Ya think?”

He laughed, Halo laughed, Thirteen laughed, and Catra laughed. For a moment, Catra thought this was actually going to work out, then it all came crashing down.

“Oi, Andie!” Devil Ray called jocularly. “Came say hello to the newbo!”

Catra froze at the sight of her last ‘teammate’.

Andrea Murphy, AKA Mist, a petite Hispanic girl with light brown skin and a bob of silver-white hair, was the youngest hero there by about two years. She glared at Catra with undisguised venom before turning to walk away.

“Hh, what’s got her all crook?” Devil Ray mused.

“I’ll go talk to her,” Halo reassured Catra.

“No, it’s fine,” Catra sighed resignedly. “Honestly, she’s handling this better than I’d be.”

“Handling what?” Thirteen asked.

Catara winced. “I may have kinda, almost… ripped off her girlfriend’s face off.”

Thirteen blinked. “Oh.”

“Heads-up, Team!” Tigress’ voice rang out. “Briefing time!”

The six young heroes, and Melog, formed a semi-circle around Tigress.

“Okay, first thing’s first, a little history lesson,” Tigress activated a holo-screen depicting a glyph or symbol that resembled nothing so much as a hooded serpent coiled about a globe. “Kobra, a ruthless terrorist organization determined to - what else - rule the world.”

Catra couldn’t help noticing the rest of the Team tensing in revulsion.

“Kobra is a fanatical cult that claims to have received its dogma from the ‘Naga-Emperors of prehuman Lemuria’.” Tigress noted a raised armored hand. “Yes, Ray?”

“Um, I’ve actually been to Lemuria,” Devil Ray began. “And I can already see at least five things wrong with that?”

“No doubt,” Tigress shifted into full lecture mode. “More conventional scholarship traces the cult back to the ‘Esoteric Order of Nulla Pambu’, an obscure theosophic sect founded in the Nineteen-Thirties by Hungarian occultist Yosef Vrolock. The original Order’s theology was a patchwork of garbled Hinduism, Neo-Gnosticism, and old sword and sorcery pulps.

“In 1973, radical members of the Order abducted a newborn Jeffery Burr from the maternity ward of Gotham General, believing the infant to be the prophesized incarnation of their deity. Shockingly, raising a kid to believe they’re a literal god is a pretty surefire way to screw them up for life.

“Jeffery Burr, now styling himself Lord Naga-Naga, assumed full control of the Order on his twenty-first birthday, and spent the following decades transforming this obscure sect into a world-wide terror network. Kobra’s had its scaly coils in everything from dealing in illegal super-steroids, to ritual assassinations, to mind-control, all to accelerate the Kali Yuga or ‘Age of Chaos’.

“The Outsiders captured Burr early last year. Without their ‘god’, we all assumed Kobra would eventually fracture and collapse in on itself.” Tigress sighed. “That was before late June of this year, when Kobra detonated a mutagenic bomb in the heart of Coast City.”

Arsenal hissed something obscene under his breath.

Tigress nodded in understanding. “The bomb released a carrier-virus. Near as we can tell, it was supposed to mutate ordinary humans into a literal snake-people. But… most of those exposed didn’t survive more than a couple days.”

Now it was Catra’s turn to shudder. One of her very first Bowhunter jobs was helping escort a relief convoy to Coast City. She vividly recalled the medical tents, hastily erected when the hospitals began to overflow. She also recalled limbs fused to torsos, skin covered in cancerous scaled growths.

“Shouldn’t the Lanterns be in on this?” Thirteen asked. “Coast City’s their home turf after all?”

“All Earth’s active Green Lanterns are off-world, along with half the Justice League,” Tigress answered. “Trying to track down Hal Jordan after his… episode.”

Tigress was quiet for a moment.

“We finally managed to get a bead on Kobra through one of its suspected front companies, ARBKO Ltd.”

“Oooh, it’s an anagram,” Halo said. “That’s…”

“Brazenly obvious?” Arsenal finished.

“For the past few weeks, ARBKO’s been clandestinely shipping tech and weapons to a secret location,” Tigress continued. “But thanks to the hard-working men and women of Bowhunter Security, and a discreet tracking device, we’ve finally pinpointed their main HQ…”

Tigress brought up the grainy satellite image of a lonely island in the middle of a desolate sea. The atoll was a thin crescent of forested green, dominated by a dark lagoon that almost eclipsed the isle like a blue moon.

“Isla Diablo in the South Pacific, supposedly uninhabited. Based on satellite imaging, we believe Kobra’s fortified itself in the main caldera of the island’s extinct volcano. The plan is a two-pronged infiltration; Halo, Devil Ray and me are Alpha Squad. Arsenal, Catra, Mist and Melog are Beta. Thirteen, you and Leroy are on babysitting duty.”

Thirteen groaned. “Do we have to?”

“Sorry, Traci, but your specialty is urban magic and a desert island is about as far from urban as it gets. Plus, we’ll need a quick getaway if things go south.”

Catra shot quick uncomfortable glances at Arsenal and Mist but said nothing.

“Remember, this mission is strictly recon,” Tigress concluded.

Thirteen tried to stifle a knowing snicker.

“I mean it this time. Kobra’s likely to have a small army waiting for us. Once we have the lay of the land, we call in the Outsiders, the League and whatever else it takes to tread on these snakes for good.”

*

BABY

September 18, 18:31 UCT-10

From the cockpit of the Martian bio-ship - affectionately named ‘Baby’ - Catra watched as the desolate waves of the South Pacific raced far below. Not one scrap of land could be seen from horizon to horizon. From here, it was easy to believe the entire planet was just one solid sphere of water.

Tigress and Halo strode into the cockpit, both clad in slick black wetsuits.

“Thirteen, what’s our ETA?” Tigress asked.

“About five,” Thirteen answered, sitting in Baby’s command chair with Leroy curled on her shoulder.

“You heard her, Team,” said Tigress. “Get traught.”

Catra sidled up to Tigress. “Hey, can we talk?”

Tigress double checked her quiver was properly waterproofed. “Make it quick.”

Catra dropped into a low whisper so the rest of the Team couldn’t overhear. “Are you sure about these squads? Maybe I should swap with Devi-”

“No.”

“What? Why?”

Tigress looked her straight in the eye. “Catra, do you really want to make this work?”

“You know I do.”

“Then grow up. If this goes well, you’re gonna be going on a lot of missions with Mist, Arsenal and probably a few other people you don’t particularly like. So, you’re all just gonna have to be professional about it.”

Catra blinked. “Okay… harsh but fair.”

“I try.” Tigress patted her on the shoulder.

“We’re here,” Thirteen reported.

Tigress zipped up her wetsuit. “All right, Team, it’s go-time.”

The floor of the cloaked bio-ship quivered and dilated, opening to reveal the central lagoon over which they now hovered.

Devil Ray sealed his helm before gesturing to the opening. “Ladies first.”

“Such a gentleman.” Tigress affixed a rebreather before leaping out the opening.

Devil Ray turned to Halo expectantly.

“I’m not a lady.”

“Me neither,” Devil Ray shrugged, leaping after Tigress.

Halo shot Catra a reassuring glance before affixing their own rebreather, following Tigress and Devil Ray. All three were soon lost beneath the midnight blue surface of the central lagoon.

Arsenal took a moment to take in his squad; one insubordinate extraterrestrial, one anxiety-ridden metahuman and a magical shapeshifting cat. “Guess it’s just us chickens then.”

*

ISLA DIABLO

September 18, 18:59 UCT-10

Three Kobra cultists marched along the well-worn dirt paths of the twilight forest, a grey fog beginning to coil about the hems of their crimson robes. Each was armed with a hi-tech staff weapon of clearly alien design. Their leader paused to wipe droplets of condensation from his fanged metal mask as the mist rapidly thickened.

“By the Serpent! This fog is thick as soup. We better return to the temple an-”

A pair of pantherish snarls rang out behind him. By the time he turned, his Brothers were already gone, swallowed up by the mist. Panicking at what he thought were shadows moving in the fog, he fired his staff blindly, a blast of crimson energy shattering a tree to smoldering splinters. The jungle went preternaturally quiet, save for the pounding of his own heart.

The cultist backed away slowly, until he suddenly bumped into something. He spun on his heel, bringing his staff weapon around only for it to be caught in the grip of a cybernetic hand.

Arsenal smirked. “Boo.”

*

Catra kneeled to examine one of the staff weapons discarded by the panicked cultists. It was tipped by a wickedly curved blade for close-quarter combat, crimson circuitry inlaid in its ebon shaft. Melog hissed in recognition, main flaring scarlet.

“These are Apokoliptan weapons.”

“Not surprising,” Arsenal replied, tying the trio of unconscious and disrobed cultists to a tree. “Kobra and the Light have been in bed together for years now.”

Mist recorporealized from her namesake element.

“Hey, cool trick with the fog thing,” Catra said. “You really saved our butts back there.”

Mist turned away without another word.

“Oh c’mon,” Catra muttered under her breath. “What does she want from me?”

Melog chirped sympathetically.

“Alright, kiddies, stow the afterschool drama ‘til after the mission,” Arsenal tossed Catra and Mist each a crimson hooded robe. “Kobra will be expecting these three to check in sooner or later. Let’s not disappoint.”

*

Three hooded figures approached a cave opening at the base of the extinct volcano. The entrance had been carved in the image of a great stone serpent, jaws gaping hungrily. Two guards kept vigil at the fanged gate, their chests bare and faces concealed behind golden cobra masks. They crossed their Apokoliptan staff weapons as the trio approached.

“Password?”

“Hail Kobra,” the leader of the trio hissed low.

“That’s not the passwo-”

The guard was cut off by a metal fist impacting his jaw.

“Worth a shot.”

Catra pounced before the second guard could level her staff weapon, tackling the cultist to the ground and sending her off to dreamland with the flat of a palm.

“I thought this was supposed to be a stealth mission?” Catra said.

“Lesson one, Probie: stealth is relative.” Arsenal cast off his hooded robe. “Now let’s get these goons stowed away before the party really starts.”

*

Devil Ray’s head broke the surface of an underground river. It flowed lazily through what had - eons ago - been a lava vent leading directly into the volcano’s fiery heart. Brackish water flowed in rivulets down his glossy manta-helm as he swept the pitch-black chamber with his infrared.

“Clear,” he radioed, wading ashore.

Tigress and Halo emerged from the water behind him, removing their rebreathers.

“Halo, a little light?” Tigress whispered, removing the waterproof ‘slicker’ from her crossbow.

Halo obliged, their hand pulsing with a soft blue aura as they raised it to illuminate a dryer lava vent leading into the volcano’s upper reaches.

Tigress affixed her mask, activating the in-built comm. “Alpha to Beta, what’s your status?”

“Beta here,” a staticky Arsenal answered. “We’re positioned in a cleft overlooking the main caldera…”

*

“…though I can’t say it’s a pretty sight.”

From their position, cloaked by Melog’s glamor, Beta Squad could see the enormity of the volcano’s vast interior as hundreds of hooded cultists entered in slow procession. The entire caldera had been carved into some kind of cyclopean temple, bounded by spiraling coiled columns. On the far end stood an empty stone throne, carved in the image of a hooded cobra.

Arsenal had to hand it to Kobra; they were committed to their bit. But what really caught his eye was the symbol that dominated the entire stone floor, eight arrows radiating in all directions from a central point like a giant compass.

He opened a channel back to the bio-ship. “Arsenal to Thirteen.”

“Thirteen here, what’s the sitch?”

“Looks like Kobra’s gearing up for somekinda weird ritual. Tap the feed on my AR lenses and tell me if that symbol on the floor means anything to you?”

“Just a sec…” There was a sharp inhale of breath on the other end of the comm. “Oh carp.”

“Thirteen?”

“This… might be really bad. That’s the Eight-Pointed Star; the multiple arrows represent the infinite possibilities of disorder. It’s usually used to invoke the Lords of Chaos.”

“The Lords of what?” Catra hissed.

“The Lords of Order and Chaos are cosmic beings that are supposed to maintain the fundamental balance of the multiverse,” Thirteen answered. “At least in theory. In practice, they spend more time waging a cosmic cold war on each other.”

“Everyone, hold position and be ready to pull out,” Tigress interjected over the group channel. “If Chaos is involved, then that means-”

“Brothers and Sisters!” a voice echoed across the caldera, belonging to a High Priest clad in crimson Kobra robes, his hands extended to the cold stars. “Prepare yourselves, for tonight, our Lord and Master walks among us!”

Suddenly, as if on cue, a pillar of crimson and ebon fire descended from the darkling heavens. It struck the very center of the Eight-Pointed Star, touching down like a fiery blood-red tornado.

“Behold, oh Sons of the Serpent!” The High Priest exalted. “Behold your True God, behold the Avatar of the Kali Yuga!”

The pillar of bloody fire was suddenly dispersed in a wave of chaotic energy that shook the volcano to its ancient roots. At the Star’s centre now stood a deathly pale scrawny boy clad entirely in black. A gleam of childlike malice glinted in his ruby red eyes, an orange furred cat draped across his shoulders.

Tigress sighed over the comm. “It’s Klarion, isn’t it?”

“Eyup,” Arsenal answered.

“Carp.”

The High Priest bowed low. “Lord Avatar, You honor us with Your presence.”

“Nice place you have here, Darren, very antediluvian,” Klarion said, skritching behind his cat’s ears. “Isn’t that right, Teekl?”

The cat purred contentedly.

“Ah-Actually, Lord Avatar, my name is Brother Dan-”

“Don’t contradict me, David!” Klarion snapped shrilly, his boyish face contorting into something not quite so boyish.

“I…” the High Priest began, before thinking better of it. “As you will, Lord Avatar.”

“That’s what I like about you, Declan, you know your role. Now, where are my M&Ms?”

“Okay, Beta, stay where you are,” Tigress spoke over the comm. “We’re coming to get you. Whatever happens, do not engage Klarion. I repeat: do NOT engage.”

“Wait, are we talking about the kid?” Catra whispered. “He’s like… nine?!”

“WHAT IS THIS!?!” Klarion’s shriek echoed across the cavern. He held up a piece of green candy, eyeing it poisonously.

“Muh-my Lord Avatar?” the High Priest stuttered fearfully.

“THIS IS A GREEN M&M!!!” Klarion screeched. “I said ‘no green M&Ms!’ Who’s responsible for this atrocity!?”

Klarion’s eyes blazed blood red as they fell upon the cultist who had brought him the offending candy bowl, a girl no more than sixteen. Doubtless, one of countless runaways caught in Kobra’s orbit.

She didn’t even try to run as tendrils of raw chaos enveloped her. Though she did try to scream, only for her mouth to suddenly melt into a single mass of blank skin.

Klarion’s cackling devolved into shrieks of obscene delight as he continued to warp and twist the girl’s malleable flesh. Limbs withered away then sprouted back again in no natural pattern. Reptilian scales and insectoid chitin waged war, frontlines constantly shifting across the girl’s liquefied flesh. Eyes - slitted or faceted – erupted like boils across a writhing agonized mass that no longer looked even remotely human.

Teekl, still perched on Klarion’s shoulder, mreowed.

“What do you mean I said ‘no purple M&Ms’ before?” Klarion blinked, pausing in his tortures to scrutinize the candy bowl. “Huh…? So I did. My bad.” He shrugged, turning back to the mass of squirming meat. “Eeew! Someone take that thing away! It’s gross!”

From Beta Squad’s hidden vantage point, Catra stared in wordless horror as cultists dragged away the mass of mismatched flesh that was, even now, still slightly twitching.

“That answer your question, Probie?” Arsenal whispered tonelessly.

“So, Dylan, I was thinking it’s time for a rebrand,” Klarion flopped down on the Kobra throne, stroking Teekl as she purred contentedly in his lap. “How does the ‘Cult of the Kat’ sound? Oooh! We could put little kitty ears on your hoods!”

Before the High Priest could respond, the chill air of the caldera began to tense and crackle as a fiery vortex suddenly erupted in the center of the temple.

BOOOOOM!!!

Klarion grinned, eyeing the Apokoliptan Boom-Tube with all the avarice of a child on Christmas morning. “Finally!”

Four figures came tumbling out of the hellish maw before it snapped closed behind them; a teen clad in a white bodysuit with blue gloves and boots, a dark-skinned archer, a pink-haired mage, and an eight-foot-tall golden space-Valkyrie wielding a sword of pure light in one hand while holding something bundled in a purple robe tightly under her other arm.

Catra’s heart caught in her throat. “Adora?”

Kara, Bow, Glimmer and She-Ra rolled to a halt at the foot of the Kobra throne.

“Oh, goodie,” Klarion rubbed his hands greedily. “Presents.”

Chapter Text

ISLA DIABLO

September 18, 19:52 UCT-10

BOOOOOM!!!

Klarion grinned, eyeing the Apokoliptan Boom-Tube with all the avarice of a child on Christmas morning. “Finally!”

Four figures came tumbling out of the hellish maw before it snapped closed behind them; a teen clad in a white bodysuit with blue gloves and boots, a dark-skinned archer, a pink-haired mage, and an eight-foot-tall golden space-Valkyrie wielding a sword of pure light in one hand while holding something bundled in a purple robe with the other.

Catra’s heart caught in her throat. “Adora?”

Kara, Bow, Glimmer and She-Ra rolled to a halt at the foot of the Kobra throne.

“Oh, goodie,” Klarion rubbed his hands greedily. “Presents.”

*

BRIGHT MOON

September 18, 02:16 UCT

ONE DAY EARLIER

Far from Earth, in a distant sector of the galaxy, there existed a world where no sun touched, yet was still radiant with life and light. It was a world of magic and mystery, where ancient sorcery coexisted with alien science.

It was called Etheria.

For millennia, Etheria had been defended by She-Ra, Princess of Power. A champion chosen by the very animus of the planet itself to serve as the vessel of its wild magics. A champion whose present incarnation was currently peering at an uncooperative data-pad.

“Hello?” Adora asked, tapping the pad. “You sure this thing is on, Bow?”

Pale moonlight streamed through the balcony of Adora’s room at Castle Bright Moon. The data-pad stood affixed to a tripod in front of her bed as she gave it another experimental tap.

“Yes, just please stop hitting it,” whispered Bow. The master archer – and Bright Moon’s resident tech-whizz – stood just ‘off camera’, fretting for the safety of his poor data-pad as a hand quietly alighted on his.

Bow glanced over at the smiling pink-haired face of Glimmer, Sorceress-Queen of Bright Moon, Leader of the Princess Alliance of Etheria, and the love of his life.

Catra’s face suddenly lit up the screen “Hey, Adora!”

“Oh, hi Catra!” Adora’s own face brightened, her warm smile spreading like a new dawn. “I was afraid I missed you!?”

“Not a chance,” Catra chortled. “Are you alone or-”

That was their cue. Bow popped in from Adora’s right. “Heeey, Catra!”

“Hi, Horde Scum!” Glimmer beamed, her pink-haired head poking in from left.

“Hey, Bow! Hey, Sparkles!” Catra greeted them with a snorty laugh. “You dorks keeping Adora out of trouble without me?”

“Ah you know how it is,” Bow answered. “Still cleaning up the mess left over from that big Apokolips invasion. How about you? How’s the whole Earth superhero thing going?”

“Ugh, not so super,” Catra groaned. “It’s all just busy work. ‘Probie, file that report’, ‘Probie, go pick up an extra box of staples’, ‘Probie, change the filter in the coffee machine’. It’s like I’m a cross between a guard and a janitor.” Her eyes went wide in sudden horror. “Oh crap, I sound just like Kyle! Am I the Kyle now?!”

“Well, just keep at it,” Bow said encouragingly. “I’m sure you’ll make it work.”

“And if not, you can just run away… like you do from everything,” Glimmer muttered darkly.

Catra frowned from the small screen. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Why don’t we leave Catra and Adora alone, Glimmer,” Bow interjected awkwardly, taking his girlfriend aside. “I’m sure you two have a lot to catch up on?”

Bow waited until the doors of Adora’s room were safely shut behind them before turning to Glimmer. “What was that about?”

“What was what about?” Glimmer asked.

“What you said to Catra back there?”

“Oh, that was just a little good-natured ribbing. That’s just how me and Catra relate.”

Bow looked concerned. “That was a little more than just ribbing, Glimmer. Is everything okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“Seriously, Beau, not everything has to be some big unresolved emotional crisis. I made one insensitive crack. Look, I’ll apologize to Catra later, if she even remembers. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Glimmer leaned up on tippy-toes to peck his cheek. “But thanks for keeping me honest, Beau.”

Bow blushed. “So… you wanna… do anything right now?”

“Go wait in our room,” Glimmer smirked knowingly. “I gotta go sign a last-minute proclamation before we head off tomorrow.” She traced a finger suggestively down his armored breastplate. “After that, you’re all mine.”

“I… uh… okay.” A grinning Bow staggered off, nearly knocking over a suit of armor.

Glimmer let out a tightly held sigh once Bow was out of earshot. She hated lying to him. There was no last-minute proclamation. She just wanted to be alone for a while and wander through the winding corridors of Castle Bright Moon. Up ahead, she noted an intricate mural depicting a majestically regal angelic figure.

And turned to avoid it.

*

“I’m doing good, really,” Adora sighed wearily, sinking into her bed. “Bow and Glimmer have been super supportive, and the weekly sub-space sessions with Dr. Quinzel are really helping. I’ve actually been trying to convince Kara to give it a try but…”

Catra snorted at that.

Adora could hardly blame her. The bull-headed Kryptonian teen that Adora had unofficially ‘adopted’ was hardly big on sharing her feelings, except maybe with her fists.

“So, any plans for tomorrow?” Catra asked.

“Not much. We’re heading off to Seaworthy to check out some weird monster sightings.”

Catra frowned. “Monster sightings?”

“You know what sailors are like,” Adora shrugged. “It’s probably nothing.”

*

SEAWORTHY

September 18, 12:21 UCT

“THIS IS NOT NOTHING!!!”

Adora – or rather, She-Ra – squealed as she was dangled upside down over Seaworthy by a gelatinous tendril. The titanic God-O-War had already subsumed the docks of the normally bustling port-town into its vast jellyish bulk. And it was slowly yet inexorably working its way inland. Screaming Sea Elf villagers scattered in all directions, forced to abandon their markets, their shops, their homes.

Atop the mutated jellyfish, stood six ichthyoids clad in Apokoliptan battle-plate. Their leader raised a gauntleted fist to the stormy sky.

“Flee, air-sucking filth! Flee before the might of the Deep Six! We claim this port in the name of Almighty Darkseid!”

“You mean Lord Grayven, Slig!” His Second-In-Command scolded.

“Oh, whatever, Pyra! Just go round up the flotsam before they escape!”

The rest of the ‘Deep Six’ leaped into the fray. Pyra cackled manically, plumes of flame firing from her trident as she herded the fleeing Sea Elves into dead ends and blind alleys. Another of the Six swooped down on membranous fin-like wings, snatching up stragglers in his briny claws.

The winged Apokoliptan was about to swoop down on a Sea Elf child when a flashbang arrow went off in his face, sending him hurtling into an abandoned fish stall.

Pyra continued to cackle obliviously as the Sea Elves cowered before her flames - heedless of her comrade’s struggles – until a wave of violet light passed over her, turning her blazing fire to cool sparkling mist.

“Huh?” She glared at her weapon with unblinking fishy eyes, slapping the side. “C’mon, you stupi-”.

She was cut off by a shimmering violet fist impacting with her scaled face.

“Two down, four to go!” Glimmer whooped,

Bow entangled yet another axe wielding Deep Sixer with a net arrow. “Make that three!”

“BOW!?!” Glimmer tackled the master-archer to the ground as a giant gelatinous tentacle came crashing down on them.

They winked back into existence atop one of the few undemolished shops.

“BOW!?!” Glimmer was on the verge of panic, holding him tight. “Are you okay?! Are you hurt?!”

“I’m fine.” Bow rubbed his head. “I’m more worried about Adora.”

Across the bay, She-Ra struggled as the God-O-War’s tendril brought her within arm’s reach of Slig. The Deep Six’s commander removed his gauntlet to reveal a scaled hand crackling with mutagenic energy.

“One touch was enough to turn a simple hydrozoan colony into the horror laying waste to this map speck,” he rasped salaciously. “Imagine what it will do to you, Despara?”

“That’s not my name!” She-Ra practically snarled.

“No matter,” Slig chuckled wetly, reaching for her. “Soon, you won’t need any name at all.”

KRA-THOOOM!!!

The sound was faint and distant, but near enough to make Slig pause. “Was that a-”

Something suddenly punched straight through the God-O-War with all the speed and force of a blazing comet, sending a geyser of quivery jellying ooze splattering across the town.

Slig slipped as the monster jellyfish began to deflate under his webbed claws, sending him tumbling down its slippery oiled membrane. He screamed as he was sent hurling towards the rocky pavement below, only for something to blur past him a split second before he hit the stone.

Next thing the Apokoliptan knew, he was dangling at least sixteen hundred feet over the streets of Seaworthy. A slip of a girl – not more than fifteen standard years, if that – held him by the gorget of his armor, her fingers leaving indents in the divinely forged metal.

She wore a white Etherian bodysuit, accentuated by powder blue boots and gloves. Her platinum blonde hair was tied back in a tight ponytail, framing an impish smirk.

Slig made to raise his mutagenic hand.

“Yeeeah, I wouldn't,” drawled Kara Zor-El - once known as the Supergirl. “Not if you wanna keep that hand.”

Slig let the hand fall limp at his side.

“Smart fishie.” Kara hung the Apokoliptan from the spire of the townhall like a prize catch.

“KARA ZOR-EL!!!” She-Ra’s voice rang out across the demolished square. “Get down here this instant!”

Kara grumbled as she touched down. She-Ra came stomping up to her, almost slipping on the jelly slick flagstone.

“Hi, ‘Dora,” Kara deadpanned.

“What are you doing here?! I thought I told you to stay in Bright Moon!”

“Which was clearly the wrong call!” Kara threw her arms wide to take in the surrounding chaos.

“That’s not the point! What if you’d gotten hurt? What would I tell your cousin!?”

“He’s not my cousin,” Kara pouted, folding her arms. “He’s not even a real Kryptonian.”

“Kara!? That is a very ignorant thing to say! And what about that poor jellyfish?!”

“Seriously!? I gotta care about jellyfish now?!”

The argument was still going back and forth as Glimmer and Bow approached.

“I do not need this right now,” sighed Glimmer, wiping jelly from her face.

Bow counted off four fingers. “Hey, aren’t we forgetting something?”

The last two remaining members of the Deep Six had almost slipped into a shaded alley, when a blast of violet energy cut off their escaped. The three Etherians and one Kryptonian formed a circle around them.

“So…,” She-Ra began, levelling her energy sword as she counted down. “Makes giant monsters, fire powers, flight, axe; what do you two do?”

The two Apokoliptans exchanged a look before throwing their weapons down and their hands up.

“Nothing!”

“We do nothing!”

*

BRIGHT MOON

September 18, 13:01 UCT

Glimmer, Bow, Adora and Kara rematerialized with a burst of violet light in Castles Bright Moon’s courtyard, shadowed by the glittering pearlescent Moonstone that was the source of Glimmer’s magic. The young Sorceress-Queen took a moment to pull yet another oily glob of jelly from her pink hair.

“Ugh, I’m gonna need at least five showers after this.”

“On the bright side, we’ve managed to take down most of the stragglers left behind from the Apokoliptan invasion,” Bow said. “That’s definitely a win, right?”

As the four entered the castle proper, a guard came running up the hall, their armored boots clanking upon the polished marble floor.

“Your Majesty! Your Majesty!”

Glimmer sighed. “Yes?”

“There’s someone in the War Room, demanding to speak with you,” the guard panted sheepishly. “He just sort of appeared…”

“Alright,” Glimmer groaned. “Just let me shower first.”

“Who is he?” Adora asked.

“He says his name is… ‘Savage’?”

[-]

The four of them came charging through the War Room’s doors. Glimmer summoned her mage-staff, Bow knocked an arrow, Adora leveled her energy blade, and Kara balled her steel hard fists. They surrounded the interloper, daring him to make one wrong move.

He stood motionless, hands casually clasped in the small of his back, admiring the abstract mural decorating the War Room’s walls. He turned slowly, revealing an impassive scarred visage.

“Not the welcome I had hoped for,” rumbled the deep gravel-laced voice of the immortal warlord known on Earth as Vandal Savage.

Glimmer charged her staff. “You have about five seconds to tell us why we shouldn’t smack you half way back to Earth!?”

“For one, I am unarmed,” he extended his empty hands. “For another, I would have thought the aid I provided during the recent Apokoliptan invasion would have been enough to earn your good will. Without my intervention, I doubt you and your allies would have succeeded in infiltrating Grayven’s flagship, or escaping before she… self-destructed.”

“Oh, like you acted out of the goodness of your heart?” Adora scoffed. “Tigress told us everything about you and the Light!”

Savage turned his stony gaze on Adora. “I sincerely doubt that. Though I understand your suspicions. Suffering under the depredations of the Horde and Apokolips, it is natural to have a somewhat absolutist view of the universe, to see all actors in the strict binary of ‘good’ and ‘evil’. But I am not your enemy, Adora, and I have no designs on Etheria. Though our methods may differ, like you, I merely seek to secure the future of my world and my people in a hostile cosmos.”

Glimmer interjected herself between Adora and Savage. “That still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here.”

Savage met the Sorceress-Queen’s glare. “Simply put, Your Majesty, I’m here to collect on a debt. You may not approve of me, you may not even trust me. But that fact remains that if not for me, your world and everyone you love would even now be wailing beneath the Apokoliptan boot.”

The four young heroes exchanged uncertain looks.

“Maybe we should hear him out?” Kara offered.

“What exactly do you want for this ‘debt’?” Glimmer asked.

“A simple enough task. All I ask is that you retrieve a certain artefact and deliver it to one of my colleagues. I can even provide transportation. Once the artefact is delivered, all debts will be considered settled.”

“Why can’t you just get it yourself?” Bow asked.

“In a word, politics. Neither I nor any associate of the Light can be seen to be involved in this endeavor.”

Glimmer snorted. “Oh, that doesn’t sound sketchy at all!”

“I had hoped Royal Honor would be enough to motivate you, but I am willing to ‘sweeten the pot’ as it were,” Savage rumbled low. “Do as I ask, and I will share certain… intelligence that recently fell into my possession.”

“What kind of intelligence?” Adora asked skeptically.

Once more the immortal turned his stony gaze on the Princess of Power. “Tell me, Adora, exactly what do you know of your origins?”

Adora froze, her mind abruptly reeling under the implications of his words. Before she could respond, Glimmer pulled her aside.

“Adora, please don’t tell me you’re actually falling for this?” Glimmer hissed.

“Tigress said he’s over fifty thousand years old, Glimmer,” Adora whispered back. “Who knows what he knows?”

“Tigress also said he’s a manipulative amoral species supremacist. What if he’s lying?”

Adora’s eyes were pleading. “What if he’s not?”

Glimmer groaned low, face hardening before turning back to Savage.

“Where exactly is this ‘artefact’?”

[-]

ARMAGETTO

September 19, 01:13 UTC

Far from Etheria, in a desolate sector of the galaxy, there existed a world where no sun touched, lit only by the mammoth fire pits that perpetually consumed it from within. It was a world dominated by factories of war and stark utilitarian temples, where creatures of fury worshipped a fiery creed of destruction.

It was called Apokolips.

BOOOOOM!!!

The three Etherians – and one Kryptonian – stepped from the hellish maw of the Boom Tube onto the pitted roof of an abandoned hab-block. Adora held back a choking cough as the familiar sting of Apokolip’s acrid air filled her lungs.

The squalid slums of Armagetto spread out to every horizon, a hyper-industrialized nightmare that dwarfed even the Fright Zone. The grim skyline was dominated by the raging light of the Central Fire Pit and the cyclopean shadow of the Divine Palace, once more crowned by the Omega that was the sigil of the fortress world’s Dread Lord.

Adora glanced to her side, where Kara trembled slightly. She placed a hand on the Krypteen’s shoulder.

“You okay?”

“Y-yeah,” Kara faltered. “It’s just… coming back... I’d forgotten what it was like here.”

“I know what you mean.”

Adora knew that according to legend, Apokolips had been formed from the dying essence of a wicked sorceress who had fallen in the final Ragnarok of the Old Gods. There were many across the galaxy who believed the planet and all its inhabitants were thus living incarnations of pure evil.

She wished she could believe that. It would make it so much easier if she could tell herself that every soul born into this horror somehow deserved it, that they were all naturally irredeemable. But her own short time as one of Granny’s Furies had been enough to show her that simply wasn’t true.

Apokolips was far far worse than that.

Everything in Darkseid’s regime was consciously designed to bleed his subjects of whatever decency they possessed, to make them accept cruelty and exploitation as simply the natural state of the universe. Darkseid turned love of one’s own to hatred of the other, loyalty and devotion to mindless obedience. He stripped life of its sanctity and replaced it with the worship of Anti-Life.

Still, even in the darkest pits of Apokolips, there was some tiny ember of light that even Darkseid’s boot could never fully stamp out.

Ting!

Bow held a small glossy black device engraved with red and gold circuitry. “Fatherbox says we should get under cover before a Parademon patrol spots us.”

“Can we really trust that thing?” Glimmer asked suspiciously. “It is from here after all.”

“He’s not an ‘it’, Glimmer!” Bow cradled the Fatherbox almost protectively. “He’s a living being, and I don’t think he likes being back here anymore than we do. From what Fatherbox says, Savage is a lot more understanding than his last boss.”

“Fatherbox is right,” said Adora. “We need to get out of sight.”

The four descended into the bowels of the hab-block, only to be suddenly assaulted by a stench like rotting meat and stale urine.

Glimmer almost gagged. “Uuugh… People actually lived here?!”

“Actually, this is one of the nicer civilian habs I’ve seen,” Kara observed.

Bow eyed the empty halls. “Then why did they abandon it?”

“That’s why,” Adora whispered softly.

She stood before an alien glyph spray painted across the walls in a searing bright yellow that shone garishly against with the rusted grey.

“Oh Rao,” Kara swore.

“What does it mean?” Glimmer asked.

“It doesn’t really translate…” Adora answered haltingly. “The closest would be something like… ‘scapegoat’ or ‘other’. The people here were marked as an affront to Darksied, for one reason or another.”

“What did they do to them?” Bow asked.

Adora was quiet for a long moment, her steel-blue eyes darkening before turning to leave. “We need to keep moving.”

[-]

The facility was a long low slab, utilitarian and bunker-like. It would hardly be distinguishable from its dilapidated graffiti covered environs if not for its polished featureless walls.

Glimmer eyed the monolithic edifice warily from the shade of a filth-strewn alley. “So, this is ‘Section Zero’?”

Adora nodded. “Desaad’s personal R&D center.”

“More like private torture dungeon.” Kara shuddered, squinting slightly as she scanned the complex. “Granny used to tell us all kinds of horror stories about the place. Threatened to send us here if we ‘misbehaved’. I kinda hoped she was making it all up.”

“Bow, can Fatherbox get us in?” Adora asked.

Ting!

“No luck,” Bow sighed. “The entire facility is shielded against unauthorized Boom-Tubes.”

Kara blinked, rubbing her eyes. “I may have something.”

[-]

Deep in the pits of Section Zero, Desaad gloated over his latest prize, his pale lips twisting in an avaricious leer.

The Black Diamond – as Desaad had dubbed it – glittered with a preternatural luster despite its abyssal dark facets.  The massive gemstone had been picked up by an Apokoliptan scoutship after a freak Boom Tube accident had temporarily stranded it in the interstellar void. A mere chunk of compressed carbon would not have merited the attention of any New God, if not for the faint yet anomalous energy signature seemingly constrained by the gem’s molecular bonds.

As God-Scientist and Chief Torturer of Apokolips, Desaad prided himself on a steady hand and an immortal’s patience. These qualities had served him well in both aspects of his duel-role. So it was with exquisite care, that he directed the robotic arm. Its adamantine tip hovered over a precisely calculated spot on the black diamond’s gleaming surface.

“Careful now…” He muttered softly, hand on the control console affixed to his chest. The adamantine tip darted forward with birdlike swiftness, chipping off a single needle-like shard from the Black Diamond. A second robotic arm quickly retrieved the shard, presenting it before the God of Torment.

“Magnificent,” he rasped wetly, examining the hologylphic read-outs that hovered about the shard. The energy matrix encoded within the gem’s molecular structure was far more complex and self-organizing than Desaad had first suspected. It was certainly not alive in any biological sense, but was it potentially… self-aware?

“I wonder, do you feel… pain? Oh, what new agonies we could explore together.” His pale hand reached slowly for the shard, fingertips bare millimeters from the shimmering black surface.

“Kanto to Desaad.”

Desaad grimaced in frustration at the rich velvet voice speaking over the comm. “What is it?”

“‘Great Darkseid’ requests your immediate presence.”

Desaad sneered contemptuously. “Tell ‘Great Darkseid’ I’m indisposed.”

“I’m afraid our ‘Dread Lord’ is most insistent.”

Desaad muttered darkly, taking leave of his laboratory with an imperious sweep of his purple robe.

No sooner had he left than a grate embedded in the ceiling suddenly popped loose; allowing Adora, Glimmer and Bow to shimmy down a length of golden rope while Kara simply hovered to the floor.

“Thank Etheria,” Adora rotated her stiff neck gingerly. “I thought he’d never leave.”

“Anyone else think it kinda convenient that Desaad got called away while we were hiding in the vent up there?” Bow asked suspiciously.

“Hey, never look a gift zuurt in the mouth,” Kara retorted.

“A what?”

“You know, a zuurt? Big furry, four eyes, six nostrils? You don’t have those on Etheria?”

“Nooo…”

“Stay on mission,” chided Adora. “We need to grab the diamond and get out befo-”

“OW!!”

Adora, Bow and Kara spun in the direction of Glimmer. The Sorceress-Queen stood over the diamond shard, sucking her fingertip.

“Sorry,” she answered sheepishly. “Pricked myself.”

Adora sighed. “Before Desaad gets back.”

[-]

Desaad stormed though the cyclopean halls of the Divine Palace. Even the hulking Parademon guards couldn’t entirely repress a flinch at the God of Torment’s passing as he eventually came before the looming grey-black doors of admantine that marked the entrance to ‘Darkseid’s’ private chambers.

Just to the side of the great doors stood a figure clad in gold-trimmed sable finery, vaguely reminiscent of Earth’s late Renaissance period. His pointed goatee framed dark sensuous lips, curled in what would have struck most observers as a roguishly endearing smile.

Desaad was not most observers.

“This had better be important, Kanto.”

The man called Kanto doffed his cap. “All of ‘Great Darkseid’s’ commandments are important, dear Desaad.”

“Please don’t refer to that… creature as ‘Darkseid’ while we’re alone. It’s galling enough that the Earth savage arm-twisted us into this blasphemous farce.”

Desaad didn’t have to elaborate. Both he and Kanto well remembered how Darkseid’s third son, Grayven, had assassinated his father and usurped the throne of Apokolips. Grayven himself had been lost shortly afterwards in the ill-conceived invasion of Etheria, leaving Apokolips bereft of rulership. Into that vacuum had stepped Vandal Savage to propose a ‘mutually advantageous solution’.

“You don’t care for our guest, do you?” Kanto asked.

“That’s why I appointed you as their handler. So, I would have to deal with them as little as possible. Though lately I’m beginning to suspect that you’re enjoying your duties a little too much?”

“I must admit, I do find them rather… stimulating.”

The admantine doors slowly ground back, like the gates of some fabled netherworld to reveal the inner sanctum of the acting Lord of Apokolips.

Kanto took a low bow, gesturing to Desaad. “After you.”

During Darkseid’s reign, these chambers had been grey and spartan. The God of God’s had had little appetite for earthly comforts or pleasures. Now they were a medley of color, sound, and sensation. Bright silken banners of vibrant pastels hung from the vaulting roof. Notes of soft sitar music drifted through the heady air, mixing with a pungent sickly-sweet smoke.

At the center of the chamber - surrounded by scantily-clad and highly muscular male attendants – was a plush dark purple divan. Upon the divan a nubile quasi-reptilian figure reclined languidly, taking a long slow drag from a hookah-like device. They blew lazy rings of purple-blue smoke in the air before noticing their guests.

“Kanto!” Double-Trouble trilled. Their yellow eye nictated excitedly as they threw their arms around the Apokoliptan courtier, a slender finger affectionately twining about his pointed beard. “Don’t leave me alone for so long.”

Desaad repressed the bile rising in his throat. He had no idea where Kanto had originally found the shapeshifting mercenary, but he did not appreciate the obvious flirtation between the two. It was all so disgustingly… consensual.

“Why am I here, changeling?” Desaad rasped irritably.

“I’m so glad you asked, Dezzie,” Double-Trouble detangled themself from Kanto, turning to Desaad with a twirl. “I don’t really feel my talents are being utilized to their full potential.”

Desaad’s eyes narrowed. “Really?”

“Oh my, yes,” Double-Trouble enveloped themself in glittering shadow, their form shifting and expanding until they had assumed the guise they had used most often these last weeks, the hulking granite visage of the late Lord of Apokolips Himself.

‘Darkseid’ circled Desaad, looking down on the God of Torment with eyes that burned like hellish coals, though not without a certain sardoninc mirth.

Tʜᴇʏ sᴀʏ ᴠɪʟʟᴀɪɴs ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴊᴜᴄɪᴇsᴛ ʀᴏʟᴇs, ʙᴜᴛ ᴀʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴅᴏ ɪs sᴛᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴᴅ sᴄᴏᴡʟ ᴀᴛ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ.

‘Darkseid’ pouted uncharacteristically before drawing out a data-pad.

Sᴏ I ᴅʀᴇᴡ ᴜᴘ sᴏᴍᴇ sᴜɢɢᴇsᴛɪᴏɴs.

[-]

“What do you mean it won’t fit?!” Adora hissed.

“I mean it won’t fit!” Kara hissed back, trying to fit the jagged oversized Black Diamond through the ceiling grate without tearing the whole vent apart.

“Desaad could be back any minute,” Glimmer snapped. “We can’t stay here forever!”

“Well excuse me, Your Highness!” Kara drawled. “It’s not like we can just walk out of here carrying this thing!”

“Maybe we can?” Bow mused, rummaging through an open locker before drawing out a dozen long purple robes.

[-]

Adora sniffed her purple sleeve suspiciously. “I really hope Desaad washes these things.”

The four interlopers wandered the halls of Section Zero under their purloined robes, keeping their faces hooded and their eyes downcast. Adora had taken a fifth robe and bundled it about the Black Diamond, holding the darkly faceted gem under her arm. She stopped before an intersection, eyeing the paths before her.

“You have no idea where we’re going, do you?” Glimmer asked.

“Nope!” Adora answered sheepishly.

“Uh, guys…” interjected Kara.

Somewhere behind them came the heavy clunking tread of marching Parademons.

Bow pointed out a non-descript chamber. “In here!”

The four swiftly ducked in, sealing the door behind them. They pressed their ears against the cold adamantine doors. Only releasing a tense breath once the clanking tread had receded into the distance.

“Oh my, what sneaky little ducklings?”

Adora froze at the treacle-sweet words, turning slowly.

No, no, no, no!

There, suspended in some bizarre futurist torture device, hung an elderly figure clad in scraps of torn cloth and battered armor. A disheveled sliver-grey mane framed her haggard face. Toadish lips peeling back in an obscenely beatific smile.

“Don’t be shy, dearies,” she cooed raggedly. “Come give your dear old Granny a kiss.”

Chapter Text

APOKOLIPS

September 19, 05:30 UCT

The pit was dark, warm and fetid, like the womb. She remembered nothing of the world beyond its darkness, not even her own name. Not that any of that mattered anymore.

She no longer needed any identity, no longer needed anything but to constantly gorge upon the rich protein slurry her caretakers provided. The thick nutrient stew fed the new life burrowing within her, new life that would soon burst forth like maggots from a ripened corpse.

Still, some small part of her wished she could remember her name.

*

Glimmer wished she could remember how she let herself get talked into this.

Only a few short hours had passed since she, Bow, Adora and the Kryptonian Kara Zor-El had arrived on the hellish fortress world of Apokolips. Their mission: to infiltrate the notorious ‘Section Zero’ – a labyrinthine complex run by Desaad, God-Scientist and Chief Torturer to Darkseid himself – and ‘liberate’ an enigmatic artefact known as the Black Diamond. All part of a dubious bargain with the immortal Earth warlord known as Vandal Savage.

Now, the four of them - clad in stolen Apokoliptan robes - were hiding from patrolling Parademon in one of Desaad’s own torture chambers. Which would have been bad enough… if the chamber wasn’t already occupied.

“So, the prodigal daughter finally returns?” Granny Goodness – former mistress of Darkseid’s ‘Orphanage’ - chuckled dryly, suspended in some bizarre futurist torture device. “Welcome home, my sweet Despara.”

“That’s not my name!” Adora practically growled.

“My, what a rude child? Why, if I wasn’t hanging here, I’d give you such AAARRGH!!”

Goodness spasmed in mid-air. The thin wires boring into her bare flesh burned bright red before finally dimming, giving her some temporary relief.

“What is this thing?” Bow asked, horrified yet morbidly curious about the device.

“It’s called the Agony Matrix,” Goodness answered. “One of Desaad’s favorite toys.”

Adora’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you in it?”

“Alas, poor Granny has fallen out of favor with the current regime… Ugggh!”

Goodness shuddered again as the Agony Matrix sent another randomized bolt of pain though her nervous system. As the torment finally subsided, her bleary bloodshot eyes fell upon the purple bundle under Adora’s arm.

“And what do you have there, my pet?”

Adora turned to confer with the others, blocking Goodness’ view of the artefact they were currently attempting to ‘liberate’.

“We need to take her with us,” Adora whispered low.

“With all due respect, ’Dora; are you damaged!?” Kara hissed. “That’s Granny freaking Goodness! She twisted our minds, treated us like wind-up toy soldiers! She’s like… the third most evil being on this planet!”

“That is saying a lot,” Bow conceded.

“I know, I know, but we can’t just leave her like this.” Adora answered. “Kara, you know the things Desaad is capable of. No one deserves that, not even her.”

Kara looked tempted to debate that point. “We can’t trust her!”

Glimmer was silent as Adora and Kara argued back and forth. She didn’t need this. The Sorceress-Queen had felt ‘off’ ever since the four of them broke into Section Zero. Maybe it was the pervading oppressiveness of Apokolips, or the low buzz in her ears - like some whispering insect - but she was in no mood for her friends’ typical bickering.

“Enough!”

Glimmer brushed past Adora and Kara, until she stood before Goodness. The Sorceress-Queen’s gaze was unflinching as it met the New God’s.

“We bust you out, you lead us out, deal?”

Granny Goodness smile angelically. “Deal.”

“Adora, cut her down.”

Summoning her energy blade, Adora wordlessly severed the bonds restraining the New God. Goodness landed on her feet, shaking herself of like a grey she-bear. Chords of thick muscle rippled beneath her leathery skin despite her countless years.

“Thank you, dearie,” Goodness cooed, uncoiling her limbs. “You always were such a conscientious child. Not like Gilotina or Barda or...” Her hard eyes momentarily paused on Kara. “Others I could mention.”

Kara glared back daggers.

“Whatever happened to Gilotina?” Adora asked absently.

The name clicked in Glimmer’s mind. She recalled the Fury with ice-blue eyes Granny had originally sent to capture Adora months ago. Though Gilotina had failed, that setback hadn’t been enough to abate Goodness’ determined malice.

Granny merely grinned cryptically in response.

“Fine, keep your secrets,” Adora spoke sharply. “Just don’t make us regret this.”

The five slipped quietly into the shadowed corridors, Glimmer trailing slightly behind.

She wished she could clear her head of the buzzing.

*

“Now, moving along to item one-hundred-and-sixteen…” Double Trouble scrolled through their pad, reclining upon the plush divan in their private chambers within the Divine Palace. They were attended by the court dandy Kanto and the God-Scientist Desaad, who listened with respective amusement and disgust. The God of Torment’s patience was just about to expire when…

Ting!

Desaad drew his Fatherbox, face contorting in shocked rage. “What!?”

Ting!

Desaad spun on Kanto. “Section Zero has been compromised! With me!”

The God of Torment stormed from the chambers without so much as a backward glance. Kanto paused to bow courteously before Double Trouble, kissing their slender hand.

“My grace.”

Double Trouble blew him a kiss as he took his leave. Once both New Gods were out of earshot, Double Trouble pulled out an old Earth-style pocket watch, consulting its face.

“Hmm… It’ll have to do.” They snapped the timepiece shut. “Break a leg, kiddies.”

*

Security klaxons blared through Section Zero. Four young mortals and one aged New God raced through the red-lit corridors in mounting panic, their purple robes cast aside.

“Oh, that can’t be good,” Bow muttered.

Goodness waved down an adjacent corridor. “Quick, this way!”

The four heroes ducked down the shadowed passage. A fetid charnel stench wafted from further down and deeper in.

“Where does this lead?” Glimmer asked.

“The Hatchery,” Goodness answered glibly, before striking a panel embedded in the wall.

Before the four could react, a wall of crackling crimson energy sliced across the corridor, cutting them off from Goodness – and all escape.

Kara lunged at the energy-screen, only to be sent reeling back by a surge of fiery agony arcing through her flesh. She fell back into Adora’s arms.

“But… we saved you!” Adora cried.

Goodness grinned wickedly from the other side of the energy-screen, tinting her toadish features a garish red. “And Granny rewards your compassion as it deserves.”

Adora turned away in disgust. “Kara, can you…?”

“I can try.”

The Krypteen shook off her daze. Her fists pounded the soot-grey metal walls again and again until they disappeared into a whirling blur, sending a metallic staccato reverberating along the hall until finally dying away.

“Ughh,” Kara groaned, nursing her bruised knuckles. The pure adamantine walls were barely scuffed. “Sorry, ‘Dora.”

“What’s the matter, dear,” Granny drawled. “Not getting enough sun?”

Kara looked about ready to lunge again before Adora laid a hand on her shoulder.

“Ignore her, Kara. We’ll just have to find a way out the other side.”

Granny clucked. “Good luck with that, dearie.”

Adora shot back a last lingering glare before she and her friends left the grinning Goodness behind, descending deeper into the pit.

*

Having to Boom-Tube outside Section Zero’s grounds and brush past its indeterminable security checkpoints had done nothing to improve Desaad’s already foul mood. Now marching though the shadowed corridors of his private domain - flanked by Kanto and a squad of Parademons - he found himself edging ever closer to the brink of apoplectics.

So, he nearly blew his top when he saw the smugly grinning figure standing before a shimmering crimson energy-screen.

“Goodness, I should have known. Give me one good reason not to have the flesh peeled from your bones one tendon at a time.”

“Because, my dear Desaad,” Goodness replied. “While you were off placating your pet changeling, I took care of your little intruder problem.”

“And where exactly are these intruders, dear Granny?” Kanto asked respectfully.

Goodness smirked, nodding over her shoulders at the shadowed corridor leading into the deepest sub-levels of Section Zero.

Understanding dawned in Desaad’s hooded eyes as a wicked leer crept across his thin lips.

*

The Stygian black grew ever darker, the rank air ever more fetid and clammy. The buzzing whispers in Glimmer’s mind rose in proportion to the darkness, threatening to drown out her thoughts with-

“Light?”

“Wha-?” Glimmer asked.

“Can we get a little light?” Adora repeated.

“Oh yeah… sorry, just gimme a minute.”

Glimmer drew her mage-staff, trying to focus her thoughts. A warm familiar hand squeezed her arm.

“Hey, you okay?” Bow whispered in the dark.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Glimmer whispered back. “Well… except for being trapped in a torture dungeon on an evil hell-planet anyway.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Glimmer smiled, giving his hand a firm squeeze back. “But thanks for asking, Beau.”

Not for the first time, Glimmer wondered what she’d ever done to deserve him. She was certain it couldn’t have been any real merit on her part. For as long as she could remember, Bow had been her best friend. They’d been through so much together, both good and bad.

Their relationship had evolved and matured into something far more intimate, more passionate in recent years. Neither of them could promise that this particular phase would last forever. But Glimmer was certain about one thing; Bow would always be, first and foremost, her very best friend so long as she had anything to say about it.

Her foot came suddenly down on something soft, wet and warm; soaking almost up to her ankles.

“Uggh,” Kara hissed. “What in Rao’s..?”

Glimmer charged her mage-staff, filling the dank humid chamber with light. The adamantine walls had given way to corridors of redly pulsing flesh, like the arteries of some titan beast. All across the fleshy walls were embedded vaguely translucent pustules about the size of an average humanoid.

“What the…?”

Bow cautiously approached one of the quivering pustules. Something eyeless turned towards him, writhing in the greenish pus. Lipless mandibles masticated reflexively to reveal pointed half-formed fangs.

“Gaaah!” Bow recoiled. “What are these things?”

Adora surveyed the countless translucent sacs embedded in the fleshy walls. The winged gangreen creatures within were in various stages of development, bereft of the cybernetic augmentation that would later enhances their innate bio-engineered savagery.

“Parademon larva.”

A silent pall fell upon the four heroes for a long moment, until Glimmer finally spoke.

“Let’s keep moving.”

They descended deeper into the Hatchery, every step soft and tentative until they came to a vaulting fleshy cavity. The abyssal darkness seemed about ready to swallow even the light of Glimmer’s mage-staff when something began rumbling from deep below.

“What the heck is that?!” Bow braced himself against a bony protrusion as the entire chamber began to shake, growing in intensity.

Kara squinted, glaring downwards.

“INCOMING!”

Something like a titanic maggot burst through the membranous floor. Its swollen gangreen bulk dwarfed the four humanoids, ant-like by comparison. It glared down at them balefully through faceted ice-blue eyes, veiled behind thin wisps of yellowed hair, set in an almost comically undersized head.

“THE HECK IS THAT!?” Bow shrieked shrilly.

“Parademon Queen!” Adora cried, summoning her energy sword. “Scatter!”

Glimmer, Bow and Kara complied as the brood mother brought down a mammoth three-clawed paw. Adora herself barely had time to roll out of the way, stashing her bundle in an oozing wall abscess before raising her blade to the roof.

“FOR THE HONOR OF GRAYSKULL!!!”

The Stygian chamber suddenly burst with prismatic light, shining and glorious as a newborn star. A new figure stepped from the blazing light; where once had stood the mortal Adora now stood She-Ra, Princess of Power.

“Hey, ugly!” She-Ra smirked, holding her sword high. “Come get some!”

The blazing light caused the Paraqueen to recoil with terror for a moment, but only for a moment. The maggot-thing came barreling down on the Princess of Power with a vengeance.

She-Ra raised her blazing sword, ready to morph it into a mighty war-hammer, only to freeze as she caught full sight of the Paraqueen’s disturbingly human visage in the shimmering light.

“ADORA!?!”

Glimmer only narrowly managed to shove her friend out of the Paraqueen’s path before the monster crushed them both to paste. The Paraqueen clumsily turned its quivering bulk, about to resume its attack when Kara sent it momentarily reeling with a steel-hard fist.

Glimmer took advantage of the momentary reprieve to check on She-Ra. The Princess of Power’s face was ashen, eyes harrowed.

“Adora, what’s wrong?!”

“The Parademon Queen, it… she…” She-Ra whispered. “She’s Gilotina.”

Kara continued to harass the Paraqueen like some overly persistent gnat. Now that Glimmer looked more closely, she could make out the same shade of ice-blue in the Paraqueen’s blank insectile eyes, the strands of withered yellow hair that had once been silky and rich, the unmistakably human facial structure warped by Apokoliptan gene twisting.

From Glimmer’s brief memory, the Fury called Gilotina had been cruel, vain and sadistic, but she had also been vibrantly and undeniably self-willed. Now that will had been hollowed out, leaving only an empty vessel; mere flesh to breed ever more flesh to feed Apokolips’ bottomless hunger.

The Paraqueen swatted Kara away with a giant claw, sending the stunned Krypteen slamming into bare stone. The creature that had once been the Fury Gilotina pressed its attack, only for a golden arrowhead to explode in its face, temporarily blinding it.

“Hey, over here!”

Bow waved his namesake weapon in the air, desperately trying to distract the Paraqueen from the helpless Kara. His gambit proved a little too successful as the titan turned, bringing a mammoth paw down on the miniscule archer.

“BOOOOW!!!” Glimmer screamed.

The world froze.

*

Bow hadn’t planned any further than this, which was rather unlike him.

Usually he was the cautious, meticulous one of the ‘Best Friend Squad’. Now there was no more time to plan, no time to roll out of the path of the titan claw, no time to do anything but scrunch his eyes close and brace himself for the end.

The end never came.

The cavern shook with a monstrous wail of piteous agony as Bow unscrunched his eyes. The Paraqueen was trashing like a wounded animal, a smoking stump where her forelimb had just been. Across the cavern floated a figure wreathed in violet flame with eyes blazing like cold pitiless stars.

“Glimmer?” Bow whispered.

The enraged Paraqueen turned, swiping at Glimmer with its remaining claw. The Sorceress-Queen raised a hand, halting the titan paw in mid-air with contemptuous ease. Her voice was cold and hard when she spoke…

“Enough.”

Shards of purple-crystal sprouted from the Paraqueen’s remaining claw, rapidly spreading up her limb like some fungal infection. The monster recoiled again, shrieking in uncomprehending terror as its titanic bulk was inexorably transmuted into pure crystal, until it shrieked no more.

Bow stared as Glimmer alighted wordlessly next to him, her violet flame dissipating, and her expression hard as stone. She looked like a complete stranger.

“Glimmer,” Bow whispered. “What did you do?”

“Saved our butts is what she did.” Kara nursed her head as she staggered forward.

She-Ra paused to gaze up into the Paraqueen’s face, now forever frozen in a silent crystal scream. “Maybe I can heal her?”

“There’s no time,” Glimmer spoke curtly. “We need to keep moving.”

“But…”

“Now, Adora!”

She-Ra’s lips curled as though to spit back a response, but she apparently thought better of it before retrieving the bundled Black Diamond.

“How are we supposed to get out of here?” Bow asked.

“Take my hands,” intoned Glimmer.

*

The four young heroes blinked back into existence on the rooftop of Section Zero, under the ochre smog-choked skies of Armagetto. A surprised Bow took in the jagged Apokoliptan skyline.

“Glimmer, how did you do that? You’ve never been able to teleport outside Etheria before.”

Before Glimmer could reply, a blast of scarlet energy seared just over her head. Up above, upon a crimson energy platform stood Desaad with a second Apokoliptan clad in gold trimmed black.

“You missed, Kanto!” Desaad shrieked.

“Hardly, dear Desaad. That was merely a warning shot.” Kanto smiled, eying down the golden barrel of his mega-rod. “One must be sporting after all.”

“RUN!” She-Ra cried, shifting her energy blade into a shield for the others as they raced to the roof’s edge.

An industrial canyon opened up before them, dropping off into an abyssal chasm as Kanto’s shots continued to pepper their position.

“Bow,” She-Ra cried, deflecting the blasts. “Extraction, now!”

Bow drew the Fatherbox provided by Vandal Savage from his satchel. “Buddy, we really need to be somewhere else right now!”

*

ISLA DIABLO

September 18, 19:52 UCT-10

BOOOOOM!!!

Klarion grinned, eyeing the Apokoliptan Boom-Tube with all the avarice of a child on Christmas morning. “Finally!”

Four figures came tumbling out of the hellish maw before it snapped closed behind them; a teen clad in a white bodysuit with blue gloves and boots, a dark-skinned archer, a pink-haired mage, and an eight-foot-tall golden space-Valkyrie wielding a sword of pure light in one hand while holding something bundled in a purple robe under the other.

Kara, Bow, Glimmer and She-Ra rolled to a halt at the foot of the Kobra throne.

“Oh, goodie,” Klarion rubbed his hands greedily. “Presents.”

Chapter Text

MANHATTAN

September 19, 18:16 EDT

“Before the beginning…

“Or rather before our beginning, there was no Holy Balance, no precarious armistice between anarchy and stagnation. For in the pre-dawn of our universe, there was yet no need for any such mediator. There was only… the Luminous Darkness; serene and eternal. And in the palm of the Darkness, nestled a lone point of light; the Starseed.

“The Starseed was a perfect singularity containing all potentiality, the last fragment of a previous cycle of creation. For eternity beyond eternity, matter and energy, time and space were yet unknown. There was only celestial harmony and Divine union.

“But then came the Great Schism. Without warning, the Starseed burst forth in a maelstrom of light and fury, shattering of the Pax Primordial, and the long perilous descent into cosmic time.

“The first shot in the war between Order and Chaos had just been fired.”

*

ISLA DIABLO

September 18, 19:52 UCT-10

“Adora?”

Catra’s heart caught in her throat as She-Ra, Glimmer, Bow and Kara came tumbling out of the fiery Boom-Tube, rolling to a halt at the foot of Klarion’s Kobra throne. She was about to leap from her hiding place when a heavy metal hand fell on her shoulder, restraining her.

“Stay frosty, Probie,” Arsenal whispered. Her squad leader’s eyes narrowed as he tapped his comm. “Beta Squad to Alpha, you got eyes on this?”

“Confirmed Beta,” came Tigress’ exasperated reply. “Stand by.”

Catra bristled. She was barely two hours into her first mission with the Justice League’s covert-ops Team and everything was already going to shit. The mission brief had been simple enough: infiltrate the Kobra Cult’s island HQ and gather intelligence to prep for a full-on League assault.

That was before the arrival of Klarion the Witch Boy, a self-proclaimed ‘Lord of Chaos’ – whatever that meant. Now Catra huddled in a volcanic crevice with Melog, Arsenal and the meta-teen called Mist (the latter two Catra was sure hated her guts), while the love of her life and her best friends were at the mercy of a cosmic entity with the personality of a demented nine-year-old.

What were they even doing here?

*

“Oh goodie,” The Witch Boy rubbed his hands greedily. “Presents.”

A dusky orange cat with arcane ebon stripes curled about his shoulders. It watched the four arrivals with blood-drop eyes, appraising them like some exotic new species of rodent. Master and cat were flanked by a squad of serpent-hooded Kobra cultists, each armed with an Apokoliptan staff-weapon.

She-Ra had barely staggered to her feet, still dizzy from leaping through the Boom-Tube, when the Witch-Boy lunged at her.

“GIMME! GIMME!”

He snatched the bundle from her loose grip. His lips twisted in an avaricious leer as he pulled back the purple cloth to reveal the darkling facets of the Black Diamond. He tittered in self-satisfied glee.

“MINE! MINE! MINE!”

“You must be Klarion?” She-Ra deadpanned, helping Glimmer, Bow and Kara to their feet.

Klarion ignored her, eyes still locked on the Black Diamond. “Oooh, I’ve waited sixteen million years for this, you old fart. I can’t wait to crack you open like an eel and devour your gooey core!”

The cat on his shoulders mewled.

“Egg! You know I mean ‘egg’, Teekl!”

“Is he… talking to the diamond?” Bow asked.

“Is the cat talking to him?” Kara added.

Glimmer said nothing, hanging back.

A hooded High Priest stepped between Klarion and the four arrivals, inclining his head in acknowledgement. “The Exalted Avatar of the Kali-Yuga is grateful for your services.”

“Yeah, we could really tell,” Kara muttered, before She-Ra elbowed her. “Ow!”

If the High Priest overheard the Krypteen’s snark, he gave no sign. “I understand our… mutual acquaintance has made some arrangement regard-”

“IT’S EMPTY!?!”

Klarion’s shriek of shrill rage pierced the chill air. He turned on the four, face warping into a demonic snarl. “What did you do with him!? WHERE IS HE!?!”

“What!?” She-Ra stammered. “Where’s who?!”

“Don’t play dumb with me! I invented dumb!” Klarion snapped, before his thoughts caught up with his mouth. “I mean… wait, no… Aw fuck it, just kill them already!”

The cultists levelled their staff-weapons, bladed barrels charging as they surrounded the four. She-Ra, Bow, Kara and Glimmer instantly shifted into a defensive stance in response.

One of the cultists suddenly staggered, an unseen hand pulling their hood down over their eyes. They shot wildly, sending their fellow cultists scattering in a blind panic. Before anyone could react, two new figures de-glamoured next to She-Ra. One was the sleek glittering form of Melog, and the other-

“CATRA!?  What are you doing here?!”

“What am I doing here!? What are you doing on Earth!?”

“Wait!? This is Earth?!”

“Yeah, brat!” Klarion snapped. “Earth like I’m gonna shovel on your graves!” The Witch-Boy turned to the High Priest, his voice falling into a deathly rasp. “Damien, activate… the Suppository!”

The High Priest blinked. “Muh-my Lord?”

Teekl let loose a few short sharp hisses that sounded suspiciously like snickering.

“THE SERVITOR! I meant the Servitor!”

“By your command, Avatar!” The relieved looking High Priest tapped his wrist-comm, and the entire caldera began to tremble.

A massive metallic monstrosity lumbered from the cavernous shadows on wide-splayed piston-legs, hydraulic arms ending in grasping adamantine claws. It glared balefully down on the young heroes with a single cyclopean red optic.

“Apokoliptan war-mech,” She-Ra noted, raising her blade. “You ready?”

Catra smirked. “I was born rea-”

Something pounced at Catra; a solid mass of rippling muscle and saber fangs. It had the same dusky orange fur and blood-drop eyes as the creature called ‘Teekl’ but resembled the Witch-Boy’s familiar only as much as a Crimson Waste Death Eel resembled an earth worm.

Catra only had a fraction of a second to process the sight of the beast in mid-pounce, its claws mere inches from her throat when Melog barreled into the devil-cat. The two pseudo felines rolled across the caldera floor, snarling and hissing like demons.

“MEL!?” Catra raced unthinkingly to her companion’s aid.

“Catra, wai-” She-Ra was abruptly cut-off by a swipe from the Servitor’s claw sending her flying into the cavern wall.

*

“Adora!?” Bow’s eyes went wide, watching the Princess of Power flail across the chamber like a ragdoll.

“Help ‘Dora! I’ll keep ugly busy!” Kara barked.

“Kara, wai-” Bow tried to stop her, but the Krypteen had already launched herself at the Servitor like a cannonball. Bow notched an arrow, back-to-back with Glimmer as another wave of snake cultists closed in on them. “Looks like it’s just us, Glim.”

Glimmer’s eyes narrowed coldly as she glared upwards. Klarion floated high above the fray, framed against a circle of naked stars. He sat cross-legged in mid-air, cackling sadistically as he drank in the mayhem.

The Sorceress-Queen launched herself wordlessly into the sky, leaving Bow to fend for himself.

“Glimmer!? Wha-”

Bow reeled back, barely ducking under the swinging ax of a berserk cultist. He fell to the dusty igneous floor, reaching for his namesake weapon only for the cultist’s boot to pin his wrist to the ground. The cultist’s face was hooded by shadow as they raised their blade for the killing stroke.

Before the ax could fall, the cultist suddenly jerked and spasmed as they and their weapon clattered harmlessly to the stony floor. Behind them stood a figure clad head-to-toe in glossy black armor, a taser-line trailing between him and the fallen cultist.

The crimson eyes of the figure’s manta-helm flashed as he extended a helping hand. “You okay, Bow?”

“Uh, sure,” Bow took the gauntleted hand tentatively. “Thanks, umm… Scary Armor Guy?”

The remaining cultists were sent packing by a flurry of crossbow bolts and yellow energy blasts as Tigress and Halo arrived on the scene.

“Bow!?” Tigress said. “What are you guys doing here?!”

“Kinda fuzzy and that myself to be honest.” Bow answered before the entire caldera erupted in a nova of light.

*

Catra snarled as she tackled the saber-tooth Teekl looming over a stunned Melog. It felt like ramming into a wall of meat.  Catra fell back unceremoniously on her ass. The next thing she knew, a heavy clawed paw fell upon her chest, squeezing the air from her lungs. Images of her own throat torn open with eleven-inch serrated fangs and being left to bleed out on the cold stone flashed through Catra’s mind.

That was before tendrils of pale mist enveloped the Teekl-beast’s muzzle, invading its nostrils and mouth. The beast staggered back, hissing and spluttering as it shrank back to the size of a common housecat before fleeing into a narrow crevice.

Melog shook their shimmering mane, clearing their head before padding over to the winded Catra and licking her gingerly.

“Thanks, Mel.”

Arsenal’s shadow fell over Catra, offering a prosthetic hand. “Good hustle, Probie. A for effort.”

“Ggghh,” grumbled Catra, begrudgingly taking the proffered hand.

The pale fog coalesced into the form of Mist. Catra and the meta-teen regarded each other tensely for a long moment.

“Hey, umm-” Catra began before the caldera erupted in a nova of light.

 [-]

“That’s it!” Klarion grinned ear-to-ear with devilish glee as he floated over the caldera. “Crush ‘em! Burn ‘em! Rip ‘em to hot bloody shre-”

The Witch Boy abruptly cartwheeled through the air as a blast of violet radiance seared narrowly across him.

“Hey, I’m gloating here!”

Glimmer hovered before him, her form wreathed in violet flame, her eyes cold and hard as gemstones.

“This ends, filth,” she hissed.

“Ooooh, baby mage wants to play with the big kids, huh?” Klarion scoffed, grinning ear to ear. “Fine… let’s play!”

With a flick of his wrist, the Chaos Lord summoned a titanic flaming cobra. Waves of searing heat sloughed off the fiery serpent as it coiled through the rippling air.

Klarion shrugged, seemingly addressing no one. “Yeah, I know I said I’d stop doing this but c’mon, it’s thematic!”

The flaming cobra lunged forward, swallowing the impassive Glimmer whole.

“Huh, that was easier than I thought,” Klarion mused, almost disappointed.

The fiery serpent suddenly erupted from within in a nova of violet light that filled the entire caldera. An untouched Glimmer hovered wordlessly on high.

“Well, that’s more like it!”

Klarion manifested enormous talons of crimson ectoplasm, striking at the Etherian. Glimmer responded by manifesting a blade of pure violet light, slicing through the talons as they shriveled into non-existence.

“Oh carp!” Klarion swore just before the Sorceress-Queen unleashed a lance of violet energy that sent the Chaos Lord splattering across the walls of the caldera.

Klarion peeled himself off the rock face. The tar-like pseudo-matter of his incarnate form agonizingly reknitted itself back into flesh and bone. Teekl jumped from a shadowed crevasse, landing on the Chaos Lord’s shoulder just as it reformed.

“Rrrow!”

“I’m trying to kill her!” Klarion spat petulantly. “But she’s keeps throwing everything I throw back at me. It’s almost like she’s a… a-”

His train of thought was derailed by the sight of Glimmer summoning a ring of gleaming glyphs, charging another attack. Her eyes were filled with a cold hatred that would have chilled even Klarion’s blood, if he had any.

“Aw, nobs to this!” Klarion grabbed Teekl. Master and familiar melted into the shadows, leaving only a deeply frustrated mage floating high above the caldera.

Klarion and Teekl re-manifested at ground level, quickly snatching up the Black Diamond, nearly forgotten in the fray.

“See ya, lobsters!”

“Mew!”

“They know I meant ‘losers’!”

Chaos Lord and Familiar were rapidly enveloped in a pillar of crimson flame, erupting from the extinct volcano like an infernal comet. They returned to the starry void above as Glimmer watched coldly.

She-Ra staggered from the rubble, her eight-foot stature flickering as she reverted to her mortal form. Adora stumbled forward, caught by Catra and Tigress before she could hit the ground.

“You okay, Adora?” Tigress asked.

“Oh hey, Tigress…” Adora squinted. “Why are there three of you?”

Catra smiled. “She’s fine.”

“Wait, where’s Kara?!”

The Servitor crashed out of the sky like an anvil, metal limbs grinding and twitching before finally dying away. A battered and bloodied Kara landed atop the wreckage, panting heavily yet grinning unabashedly.

“Is it over already?”

*

MANHATTAN

September 19, 18:31 EDT

“Order was swift to retaliate, as the cosmos measures such things.

“Mechanistic laws were codified and imposed upon the roiling sea of potentiality unleashed by Chaos’ shattering of the initial singularity. Matter coalesced, settling into predetermined patterns. Electrons orbited their atomic nuclei, planets orbited stars, and stars orbited galaxies. The celestial clockwork turned inexorably on its pre-ordained path; as above, so below. For a time, it seemed Order would reign forever over a cold and sterile cosmos.

“Then something new began to take root; a self-replicating hydrocarbon here, an emergent silicate matrix there. At first, all this occurred far beneath the attention of the Lords of Law and Entropy. Then came the dawn of embodied consciousness, of Fear and Love, Avarice and Rage, Hope and Compassion.

“Suddenly, a third party had entered the Long War between Order and Chaos…

“Life.”

*

THE WATCHTOWER

September 19, 18:35 EDT

“Shhh...” Adora giggled in the darkness as Catra’s hands crept up her belly and under her shirt, claws leaving an electrical trail of delicate pinpricks on her bare skin.

“Don’t be such a dork,” Catra whispered, teasingly nipping Adora’s the nape of Adora’s neck. “Nobody’s gonna hea-”

Her bare foot abruptly caught on an askew mop, sending her and Adora tumbling out of the cosy dark of the utility closet and into the dizzying light of the atrium. They landed in an awkward pile on the polished walkway.

From Catra’s vantage point, Bow and Melog’s inverted faces gazed down on the couple with bemusement.

“Do you two need a hand?”

“No! No, we’re good!” Adora sprung upright like a ram-rod, flush-faced. “We were just… uh… exploring the Watchtower’s tactical layout.”

“Smooth, babe,” Catra deadpanned.

“Riiight,” Bow said. “Do either of you know where Glimmer is? I haven’t seen her since we got back from the island.”

“Us neither,” Adora frowned. “We just assumed she was with you.”

“Not like Sparkles to wander off like that,” Catra added before rethinking. “Well, not unless she’s in a mood.”

“She’s been really closed off lately,” said Bow. “I think it might have something to do with her-”

A golden glow abruptly filled the atrium as a doorway opened in the very space above their heads, shaped like a shining ankh. A figure stepped from the blinding light, walking upon the empty air. A gilded cloak billowed about his slender form as he alighted on the dewy grass like a descending angel.

The gobsmacked Etherians watched the newcomer, still and wordless as a statue. Bow was the first to break the silence, waving awkwardly.

“Umm… hi.”

The figure turned slowly. His visage hidden behind the featureless faceplate of a golden helm, featureless save for a single thin crack down the right side. The only thing that could be seen of his true face were two youthful eyes filled with a cold ancient intelligence.

“Umm… Hi!” Bow waved. “Are you with the Justice League?”

The stranger made no response, taking his leave of the atrium with an imperious flourish of his gilded cloak.

Catra sneered. “Chh, and people say I’m rude?”

*

Kara floated in an ocean of stars, drinking in the golden warmth of Sol. The only sound in the void was her own breath slowly cycling through her air mask. The silence was a welcome relief from the ceaseless cacophony brought on by her super-hearing. It was exhausting sometimes, having to mentally filter out the sound of say an animal digging up roots a kilometer away just to follow a conversation. She’d been on the verge of dozing off when the comm-unit in her ear chirped.

“You ready to come back inside, Supergirl?”

Kara winced. “On my way.”

She zipped back to the Watchtower’s primary airlock. The cacophony returned as atmosphere filled the sealed chamber; the clockwork whir of the airlock itself, the thrum of the main reactor, the churning of the life-support system as it recycled hissing air and sloshing water through the satellite’s gurgling steel innards. Not to mention about three or four private conversations across the various decks. Yeah, super-hearing wasn’t nearly as much fun as you’d think.

“Good swim, kid?” Arsenal asked, working the airlock’s control panel.

“Awesome, thanks. Can’t remember the last time I got to soak in some yellow rays,” Kara stretched her limbs, feeling refreshed. “Back on Apokolips, they used to keep me juiced on the artificial stuff but honestly it’s not the same.”

“I’ll take your word for it, Supergirl.”

Kara winced again. “Could you not call me that?”

“Uh, sure,” Arsenal answered. “Mind if I ask why?”

“It’s what Granny called me.”

Now it was Arsenal’s turn to wince “Ah, understood,” They walked through the Watchtower’s corridors as Arsenal fished about for a change of subject. “So you had a chance to look up your family since you got to Earth?”

“I tried, but they told me Kal-El was off-world on some kinda super-secret mission or whatever. It’s weird; last time I saw my cuz, he wasn’t even on solid food. Now he’s like… the age my dad was. What would we even talk about?”

“Well, what about Conner?”

“Pfft, you mean Cloneboy?” Kara snorted derisively. “Didn’t know you’d given it a name.”

Arsenal came to a dead-stop, his eyes narrowing to slits. “You got a problem with clones, Zor-El?”

“What? Well, I mean-”

“’Cuz if you do then you’re gonna have a problem with a lot of people here, starting with me.”

“I just-”

“I gotta double-check the environmental controls, air’s getting a little stale around here.”

Arsenal strode off, leaving Kara alone in the cold corridor.

*

“Wait, are you serious?” Adora asked in disbelief.

“No, seriously!” Catra insisted. “I thought Artemis was kidding when she explained it to me but it’s like this whole weird superstition here or something. Don’t worry though, everyone here is coo-.”

As they entered the mess hall, Melog following along, Catra froze. Sitting at a table across the hall were Angelo del Rey, Traci Thurston… and Andie Murphy.

“C’mon,” Catra whispered, trying to back out before they were noticed. “Let’s go som-”

“Oi, Catra!” Angelo grinned affably, waving the Etherians over.

Too late, thought Catra bitterly, trudging behind Adora.

“Here ya go, Catra,” Adora pulled out the lone empty seat at the table. “I’ll get another from-”

“Don’t bother,” spoke Andie curtly, taking her tray as she rose. “I was just leaving.”

“Okaaay,” said Adora. “Did I miss something there?”

“Long story,” sighed Catra. “You take the seat, I’ll grab the grub.”

Catra caught up with Andie just as the latter was depositing her tray back into a food synthesizer embedded in the wall. Catra scratched the back of her neck awkwardly, not quite bringing herself to make eye contact with the meta-teen.

“Hey, look… I just wanted to say ‘thanks’ for saving my butt back on the islan-”

“Please stop,” Andie said.

“I… sorry?”

Andie sighed with exasperation. “Look, we are not friends. We will never be friends. But we are teammates. Of course I’m not going to let you get eaten by a saber-tooth demon-cat. Just… respect my space and I’ll respect yours, okay?”

Catra wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

“That’s… fair, I guess.”

“Good, and speaking of space…” Andie took her leave.

Catra got a couple sandwiches from the synthesizer, returning to the table to find Adora in mid-conversation with Traci and Angelo, Melog curled at her feet.

“So, then he just gives us this weird stare and walks off without a word,” Adora said. “It was creepy.”

“Yeah, Nabu can be like that,” Traci replied, tickling the small lizard curled on her shoulder. “He’s harmless though, well… usually.”

“You know him?” Catra asked.

“I am him. Or he’s me, at least one week out of four. Nabu’s a four-thousand-year-old Babylonian wizard ghost and Earth’s resident Lord of Order. But he needs a physical host to become Doctor Fate and do… well much of anything.” Traci shrugged. “It’s a whole thing.”

Catra turned to Adora with a snort. “Told ya there was a simple explanation.”

*

Violet Harper hurriedly finished scrubbing their forearms in the basin of the washroom before slinging their duffle bag over their shoulder, dashing down the empty corridor to Observation Lounge 16.

They hadn’t meant to cut it this close, but constantly jumping between time-zones played merry havoc with their own internal clock. Not that that was an excuse, mind. They knew they could make it up later of course, but they so rarely got a chance to be aboard just as the Watchtower’s orbit intersected this particular point in space.

A breathless Violet arrived at the observation lounge to find Earth’s glittering night side laid out before them like a dreaming tapestry. There, trimmed in a delicate web of light, lay the Arabian Peninsula.

Violet was about to lay out their prayer mat when they realized the observation lounge was not as empty as they first assumed. Prostrate upon a mat of his own, golden cracked helm pressed at ground level, was Doctor Fate. He knelt upright, turning his head to the right.

“As-salamu alaykum wa Rahmatullahi wa Barakaatuhu.”

Then the left.

“As-salamu alaykum wa Rahmatullahi wa Barakaatuhu.”

The Sorcerer Supreme rose from his mat, turning to regard the newcomer with a coldly indifferent gaze.

“I- I’m sorry,” Violet stammered. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“It is of no consequence,” Fate intoned in that strange interweaving reverberation that was both two voices and one. “Our observance is concluded.”

He dismissed the prayer mat with a gesture, sinking it into an ankh-shaped portal.

“I didn’t realize you were Muslim?” Violet asked a little cautiously.

They’d only had a chance to meet a handful of their co-religionists in ‘the Life’.

“We are not,” Fate replied tersely. “Nabu’s trust in the gods is measured, particularly the god of Musa ibn Imran. But our experience with Giovanni Zatara has taught us the value of accommodating our hosts’ pastoral needs. Thus we permit Khalid Nassour to perform regular Salah as his faith dictates.”

‘Permit’ him? Oh, are you not merciful? Violet thought bitterly.

They knew well that Nabu had ruthlessly held his previous host, the magician Giovanni Zatara, virtually hostage for almost a decade. Nabu’s spirit had used Zatara’s body like some fleshy marionette to act as Doctor Fate.

The current system of alternation between Zatara, his daughter Zatanna, Traci and Khalid was the only thing that allowed all four to lead any semblance of a normal life. But to the Lord of Order’s unfeeling logic, that was a purely incidental benefit.

“We shall leave you to your own devotions,” intoned Fate, taking his leave from the observation lounge.

Violet tried to put the whole incident out of their mind as they stood upon the prayer mat, focusing the intention in their heart before raising their hands.

“Allāhu akbar…”

*

MANHATTAN

September 19, 18:48 EDT

“Among the principalities and powers of the elder universe, there existed one Entity who embodied Order in its most inexorable and merciless aspect. As life slowly spread across the cosmos, this Entity took it upon itself to pass judgment over those species it deemed ‘tainted’ by Chaos. World after world died screaming beneath its uncompromising wrath.

“With their dying breath, the first of these worlds gave their destroyer a name, naming it for the blackened sun that heralded its com-”

The speaker abruptly ducked to one side, clutching his midnight blue fedora as a worn jack-in-a-box went flying bare inches past his head.

“Why are you still talking, Stranger!?” Klarion shrieked, features contorting in demoniac yet aimless rage. “I already know all this!”

Teekl looked up from the cushion on the store’s counter, where she had been casually grooming herself as the Witch Boy worked through his latest tantrum.

“Rwrr?”

“What do you mean ‘did I know I already know that I know that’?! How can I know something without knowing that I know it?!” Klarion paused, blinking for a moment. “What were we talking about again?”

The Phantom Stranger let out a long, tired sigh.

Flickering neon cast a lurid pinkish haze on the darkness within the empty magic shop to which he had summoned the Witch Boy. Existing as it did on the borders of objective and subjective reality, the dilapidated store had seemed an appropriate place to parley – particularly with its usual caretaker currently away visiting family.

“I speak to remind you exactly of what you already know,” the Stranger continued with as much patience as he could muster. “You, of all beings, should understand the threat to the Holy Balance posed by the Entity sealed within the Black Diamond.”

“Hello Magpie!” Klarion slapped his head obliviously. “The Black Diamond! Thanks for reminding me, Stranger!”

The Witch Boy calmly retrieved a rust-spotted crowbar from beneath the cash register before turning to the aforementioned gem, currently lying at the center of the room. He then proceeded to mercilessly beat the offending mineral formation with renewed infantile rage.

“STUPID! STUPID DIAMOND! WHY ARE YOU EMPTY!?!”

The Stranger shot Teekl a pleading glance.

“Mrrr?”

“Perhaps my time would be best spent elsewhere,” the Stranger sighed once more, vanishing into the shadows with a flourish of his cape as an irate Klarion continued to hammer futility at the Black Diamond.

“WHY ARE YOU EMPTY!? WHERE ARE YOU HIDING!?!”

The iron crowbar shattered in Klarion’s hands, forcing Teekl to scurry under the countertop to avoid fragments of rusty shrapnel. The Witch Boy’s tantrum continued unabated as he beat the Diamond with bare bony fists.

“WHERE!”

“ARE!”

“YOU!?!”

*

THE WATCHTOWER

September 19, 18:52 EDT

“Glimmer? Are you in here?” Bow poked his head into the blackened observation lounge, lit only by cold stars. He muttered to himself, feeling blindly for the switch.  “Why is it so dark in here?”

Light abruptly filled the room, illuminating a Glimmer who had previously been staring into the void. She turned on him like a startled viper. For a moment, her eyes were cold and baleful.

“Glimmer?” Bow asked warily. “Are you okay?”

She smiled, her eyes once more warm and sparkling. “Sorry, Bow. I just had a teensy headache, nothing serious. What’s up?”

“Uh, Tigress wants to talk to us in the conference room.”

“Lead the way, Beau,” Glimmer twinned her arm around his, pecking him on the cheek. “So, what does she want to talk about?”

“Don’t know. It’s probably nothing.”

*

“You cut a deal with Vandal Savage?!” Tigress snapped, her voice ringing across the cathedral-like conference hall.

“Well… it was complicated,” Adora protested feebly as Catra gave her hand a supportive squeeze.

“Mrrow!” Melog mewed in solidarity.

“Father can be most persuasive when he sets his mind to it,” intoned Fate gravely, standing with arms crossed by Tigress’ side.

“Wait, he’s your dad?!” Catra asked, eyeing the Lord of Order. “How does that even work?”

“That is no concern of yours, Etherian. What concerns us is this Black Diamond. If Chaos covets the artefact than we must-”

The polished doors hissed open, admitting Bow and Glimmer. They’d barely crossed the threshold when Glimmer and Fate locked eyes. Both mages froze for a moment…

Then went berserk.

Neither Adora, Catra, Bow nor Tigress could have said whether the Mage-Queen or the Lord of Order struck first. All they knew was that in less than an eye blink, the entire conference hall had erupted in a mystic maelstrom, hurling back the mortal onlookers.

Tigress was the first to clamber unsteadily to her feet, her voice struggling against the sorcerous tempest that whipped about the chamber.

“NABU!? THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!”

Glimmer and Fate stood impassive as violet and golden magicks clashed about them, twin eyes of the storm.

“Fate shall not suffer this abomination to live!”

Tigress drew her crossbow. “STAND DOWN NOW, NABU! OR I SWEAR TO GOD!!”

Bow staggered through the mystic storm, grabbing his partner by the arm. “GLIMMER!? WHA-” She struck him brutally across the mouth with a wordless hiss, sending him reeling back.

The sorcerous tempest continued to swirl about Glimmer and Fate, locking the two mages in a stalemate. Then the violet energies began to darken, becoming ebon as the deepest void. Fate’s eyes widened in horror behind his blank helm.

Glimmer’s lips curled in a cruel smile.

*

Catra’s ears rang, her eyes and lung were stung by the smoke billowing through the conference room as Melog nursed her back to consciousness.

“Kaf- Where’s Adora-kaf?!”

Melog chin-pointed to Adora, lying prone by a shattered table. Catra crawled over, checking Adora’s pulse to find it mercifully strong and her breathing steady. Catra’s relief didn’t last long.

Across the devastated hall, Glimmer stood over a fallen Doctor Fate. The Earth mage began to stir. Glimmer summoned a blade of pure night, sinking it deep into the Fate’s belly before giving it a vicious twist.

“Back to your grave, little ghost,” intoned Glimmer coldly, a chill rasp coiling about her own voice.

Catra’s blood froze. “Sparkles?”

Glimmer turned, her flesh corpse-pale save for the deep mauve shadowing the right half of her face like a waning moon. Her normally sparkling amethyst eyes had become twin pits of blackest onyx, empty and soulless. Fused to her clavicle like some obscene tumor, pulsed the forgotten shard of the Black Diamond.

Catra tensed. Her own experience with Horde Prime had taught her bitterly to recognize the signs of bodily possession. “Who… what are you?”

“Your grotesque meat-flaps could not even form our True Name, mud-thing,” intoned the creature wearing Glimmer’s flesh as it stalked towards Catra, cloaked in writhing shadow. “But in the Etherian tongue, we believe the closest approximation would be…”

The creature paused for a moment as though to savor the word.

“Eclipso.”

Chapter Text

APOKOLIPS

September 19, 05:42 UCT

Glimmer watched in horror as Bow waved his namesake weapon in the air, desperately trying to distract the Parademon queen from the helpless Kara. His gambit proved a little too successful as the titan turned, bringing a mammoth paw down on the ant-like archer.

“BOOOOW!!!” Glimmer screamed.

The world froze.

Literally.

The Paraqueen’s claws were still, hanging over the frozen Bow like stalactites. Glimmer didn’t stop to question, racing to push Bow clear only to go tumbling through him like he was made of mist.

Everything for that matter was hazy and unreal, as though seen through a pale fog.

“What… What’s going on?” Glimmer muttered. “Where am I?”

In the moment between moments…

The voice was not heard as much as felt, like an icy star-wind without sound or gender. Glimmer tried to repress the chill in her gut as she turned to confront the speaker.

The Entity was a floating black diamond. Not like the irregular chunk of compressed carbon they’d been sent to ‘liberate’ from Apokolips, but a perfect geometric form composed of angles and planes of purest obsidian. It was like the idea of a diamond, something that could not exist in the broken world of flawed matter.

Glimmer tensed, sensing the scrutiny of some unknown intelligence upon her.

“Who… what are you?”

I am many things.

I am the One True Path from which none may stray.

I am a Lord of the Timeless Realm, cast from my rightful throne.

I am the Black Sun that heralds the Final Night.

But in this time and place, Daughter of Light… I am your salvation.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

When your blood wetted the shard you took from my prison, it formed a link betwixt us. Just as your cry of desperation rang across that link, calling to me.

Glimmer felt for the Black Diamond shard still in her pocket, she didn’t even remember taking it.

I propose a bargain, child; the life of your flesh-mate… for my liberation.

“Seriously?!” Glimmer barked out a scoffing laugh. “Spooky supernatural entities looking to cut deals was the first thing my dad, Aunt Casta and even fucking Shadow Weaver warned my about when I became a sorceress! Why in the world should I trust a word you say?”

So hasty, Daughter of Light? Especially for one who has already lost so much?

The Entity’s words cut closer than Glimmer would admit. She glanced at Bow’s suspended form; terror frozen in his eyes.

As you wish. I return you to the realm of temporal causality.

Time began to resume its natural pace, incrementally at first. The Paraqueen’s claws sinking slowly yet inexorably towards the helpless Bow.

“WAIT!?” Glimmer cried.

*

THE WATCHTOWER

September 19, 18:52 EDT

“WAIT!” Traci Thurston cried.

The word had barely crossed her lips before the entire room flipped upside down. Next thing Traci knew, she was lying flat on her back on the moderately soft training mat.

“No fair,” she groaned. “I wasn’t ready.”

“Bad guys aren’t gonna wait for you to be ‘ready’, Traci,” said Roy Harper AKA Arsenal, offering her his prosthetic hand.

She gingerly took it, pulling herself up to her feet before shuffling off to join Violet Harper, Andie Murphy and an unarmored Angelo del Rey. All save for Violet were already nursing their own bumps.

“That’s only part of why I called this impromptu training session,” Roy continued. “Now who wants another turn?”

“Another?!” Andie protested “But Violet hasn’t even had their turn yet?”

“Religious exemption,” Roy answered. “Tigress will be down to handle Violet’s training after she’s briefed Fate. In the meantime, the rest of you are all mine.”

Violet bushed slightly, not caring to be singled out.

“I notice Catra’s not here,” Andie spoke bitterly.

“Catra’s occupied,” Roy replied. “And frankly, she doesn’t need this nearly as much as you four.”

“Why do I even need hand-to-hand combat training?” Andie protested. “I literally turn into mist!”

“That is exactly why,” answered Roy. “You’re all way too reliant on powers and gadgets.”

“Rich comin’ from a bloke with a laser arm,” Angelo muttered unthinkingly.

“Angelo!” Violet hissed in shock.

“Fuck me dead!” Angelo swore, realizing he’d spoken out loud. “Roy, I didn’t mea-”

“Del Rey, you’re up,” Arsenal snapped.

“Ooooh, busted!” Traci teased.

A shame-faced Angelo made his way to the mat.

“And just to make it interesting…”  Arsenal reached for his upper right arm, where flesh met metal. Something clicked and the prosthetic limb clattered to the floor. Arsenal gestured to Angelo with his one remaining hand. “C’mon, I’ll even let you throw the first punch.”

“What?!” Angelo blurted. “Aw c’mon, mate. I’m not gonna take a swing at a-”

“Do it now or you’re off the Team!” Arsenal snarled.

“Alright, mate, don’t say I didn-” Angelo took his shot, only to have his legs swept out from under him before being face-planted right on the mat.

“Ow!” he moaned. “Point taken.”

Roy helped him up with his one hand, pulling the Ozzie meta-teen close enough to whisper softly.

“Word to the wise, del Rey. Pity yourself all you want, but don’t you dare pity me.”

Before Angelo could respond, the doors of the training room hissed open, admitting an awkward looking Kara. The Kryptonian teen took a few tentative steps before waving shyly.

“Hey, everybody! Training, huh? Cool, cool,” Kara grinned nervously, making a few mock-jabs at Arsenal. “Honing the old fighting edge, eh?”

Arsenal reattached his metal limb, just so he could cross his arms aloofly. “You take a wrong turn somewhere, Zor-El?”

“Yeah… Look, I think I may have come across… wrong earlier. So I wanted to apologize in case you… misread anything I said earlier.”

“Oh, I think I read you just fine. And I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.”

Traci leaned over to Violet, whispering low. “Any idea what that’s about?”

Violet shrugged their shoulders in bewilderment.

Before Kara could continue, a tremor pulsed through the entire satellite.

“Is that normal?”

*

“Who… what are you?” Catra spoke, cradling the still stunned Adora, Melog coiling warily at her side.

“Your grotesque meat-flaps could not even form our True Name, mud-thing,” intoned the creature wearing Glimmer’s flesh as it stalked towards Catra, through the smoking wreckage of the conference hall. “But in the Etherian tongue, we believe the closest approximation would be… Eclipso.”

Melog pounced, mane blazing hot red, fangs and claws flashing like burning light; only to be swatted aside by a tendril of darkness made manifest.

“MEL!?!”

Before Catra could react, a second tendril ensnared her, dragging her towards the creature that called herself ‘Eclipso’.

“Wh-What did you do with Glimmer?” Catra gasped, unlight constricting about her like a boa’s coils with each breath, ever tighter.

“We are Glimmer. Everything that made her what she was, every abhorrent desire or hateful thought she ever tried to bury or deny, is now a part of us.” She chuckled darkly. “Oh, Catra… If only you knew what she really thought of you, in that secret shameful place she hides even from herself.”

Catra grimaced. “Wha-what are you talking about?”

Eclipso’s eyes were like twin pits of inky black hate. “The fact that you don’t even realize why is what makes it so galling. Of course, Glimmer would never have acted on the rage festering within… but we have no such scruples.”

The tendril of unlight snaked about Catra’s throat, crushing her windpipe. She tried to cry out, but all she could manage were a few choking sobs.

“Goodbye… Horde Scum.”

Catra’s vision blurred, then darkened… before exploding with light.

Eclipso recoiled as the flashbang arrow went off right in her face, hissing with rage. Catra fell gasping to the floor as Melog rushed to her side, worriedly licking her face.

Eclipso hissed with rage, twin shrieks twisting about each other like writhing serpents.

Bow leaped between the demon sorceress and her prey, arrow nocked and drawn.

“Glimmer,” Bow pleaded. “Please, don’t make me do this!”

Eclipso coiled as though to strike, only to curl her lips in distaste.

“Bored now.”

Her form became smoky darkness, unraveling into tendrils of unlight that slithered into the surrounding shadows before disappearing entirely from sight.

Adora began to stir, rubbing her head. “What hit me?”

“Glimmer did,” spoke Catra.

“That wasn’t Glimmer” Bow protested. “That was… something else.”

“FATE!?” Tigress cried.

The four remaining Etherians rushed across the conference hall to find Tigress standing over the deathly still Doctor Fate. His eyes rolled back behind the cracked gold faceplate, revealing only milky white blankness.

“Is he…?” Adora asked warily.

“No,” Tigress answered. “I think he’s in some kind of healing trance. Look.”

The ragged edges of Fate’s belly wound were rimmed by a strange greenish glow, as though slowly knitting themselves back together on a microscopic scale.

“I don’t want to risk moving him, but I really don’t want to leave him here either,” Tigress coughed as more smoke curled about the room. “Fire suppressors must be fragged.”

“On it!” Bow knocked a bulbous headed arrow, firing straight up. It detonated above their heads, raining fire retardant foam down across the whole room, dousing the scattered electrical fires.

“One crisis down,” Tigress muttered, hitting a cracked comm-panel. “Tigress to all Watchtower personal…”

[-]

“Glimmer has been compromised. She is to be considered armed and extremely dangerous. Do not engage. I repeat do not engage.”

Arsenal, Halo, Thirteen, Mist, Kara and an armored-up Devil Ray paused as Tigress’ static tinged warning echoed through the corridor. Smoky shadows pooled before them, coalescing into a human shape. Glimmer emerged from the unlight, her eyes dark and cold, feet hovering mere inches above the polished floor as though disdaining to touch the ground.

“Glim?” Devil blurted. “Wha-”

A tendril of pure unlight snared about his manta-helm before slamming his head brutally into the bulkhead.

“Mist, Thirteen, grab Devil,” Arsenal barked, raising his arm cannon. “Halo throw up a shield while we fal-”

The entire corridor was drowned in a torrent of darkness, darkness that pervaded every fiber of the young heroes’ being. It slithered into the deep secret place in each soul, shadow seeking shadow. It tore open every psychic weak spot like a fresh wound. Each buried fear, every forgotten shameful thought come bubbling up to the surface like black pus.

Trying to fix everyone else because you can’t fix yourself.

Even your clone’s more of a man then you are.

You don’t belong on this world… or any world.

Puppet boyfriend for a puppet witch.

You don’t deserve her.

God hates you.

Cut yourself.

Pervert.

Freak.

Bigot.

Something came barreling out of the darkness like a raging red comet. Eclipso managed to summon a shield of pure unlight just in time to absorb the blow of a steel hard fist.

“Oh dear…” Eclipso smirked. “Struck a nerve, have we?”

“SHUT UP!” Kara roared, tears streaming down her face as she continued to pound on the demon sorceress’ shield. “SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!”

“No.” Eclipso gestured, sending Kara flying back with another blast of unlight.

The Krypteen left a dent in the titanium alloy bulkhead before slumping to the deck with the rest of the young ‘heroes’. They all lay insensate and helpless, twitching and sobbing, each lost in their own private hell.

Eclipso could have slain them all then and there, but if she stooped to quash every insect on her path, her Great Work would never be complete. Still, she knew from Glimmer’s memories that these insects could be particularly irksome.

The demon sorceress stood over the twitching form of the one called Devil Ray, forming her unlight into a blade of piercing night. She raised it high, ready to put the flesh-thing out of its misery when…

Something grazed the edges of Eclipso’s eternal consciousness, then was gone, like a murmur self-consciously silenced.

“We heard that.”

[-]

Eclipso moved like smoke on the wind, floating through the block of old Oan Sciencells squirreled away in the Watchtower’s lower levels. They all stood empty, yet one had its flickering green energy-screen fully powered-up. The demon sorceress dismissed the force-field with a gesture, stepping into the seemingly vacant cell, studying the walls.

“Come now… don’t be shy.”

Something flickered in the corner of her eye, like a ripple creeping along the wall to the open exit. Tendrils of unlight snared about seemingly empty space, slamming something all too solid into the back wall.

Her prey rippled back into visibility, a tall spindly creature with ash-white skin and a face like a bare skull.

“And what might you be?”

<YOUR DEATH, MA’AL HUMAN!>

The creature unleashed a shrieking psionic blast that would have shattered a mortal mind. The Entity indwelling Glimmer’s flesh experienced only mild irritation.

“Rude.”

A tendril constricted about the creature’s throat, not enough to completely restrict airflow but enough to make his position clear.

“We know you…” Eclipso tilted her head, sifting through her vessel’s memories. “You are brood-mate to the one called ‘Miss Martian’... ‘M’comm’ is it not?”

<That race-traitor is no ‘brood-mate’ of mine! And I am no longer M’comm M’orzz!> His thoughts were rancid with spite and resentment. <I am vengeance! I am the storm! I am the Ma'alefa->

“Oh, do shut up,” snipped Eclipso, batting a hand dismissively. “We’ll just open you up and see for ourselves.”

Tendrils of unlight snaked across M’comm’s face, before boring through skin and flesh. Had he vocal cords, he would have screamed as the demon sorceress’ magiks violated his very being…

Eclipso saw a M’arzzan child, scorned by his peers, forsaken by his kin. She saw the child grow bitter and strong, strong enough to repay hate with hate and pain with pain. She tasted the guilty thrill of his first kill and the glorious dread as he first prostrated himself in fealty before the self-proclaimed ‘gods’ of Apokolips.

She saw the self-styled Ma’alefa’ak and his sister locked in psychic duel in the bowels of the Apokoliptan flagship, saw as M’gann M’rozz was forced to shatter her brother’s mind to liberate it from another’s will. The psionic onslaught had rendered M’comm mindless, innocent… free.

He could not have realized at the time of course, but the next few weeks had been the happiest of M’comm’s short life. Hate, pain, shame, rage, guilt, the very meaning of these concepts had been wiped clean from his consciousness.

But of course, M’gann could never leave well enough alone. She had to see him answer for his ‘crimes’ back on M’arzz, which he could hardly do if he couldn’t even remember them.

Over long grueling weeks, M’gann had painstakingly sown back together the tattered shreds of M’comm’s identity. But with each restored memory, came old hurt, old hate.

Eclipso withdrew her tendrils of unlight, allowing M’comm to fall to the floor. The M’arzzan curled defensively in the corner, trembling. Just as she had been examining his naked soul, he had caught the barest glimpse of her ageless consciousness.

<What… what are you?>

“Judgment.”

<Please… don’t kill me!>

Eclipso cocked her head in bemusement, eyes seemingly softening. “Poor creature. What has life given you except destitution, loneliness and scorn? Yet you cling so jealously to it, as though it were some precious treasure you could not possibly do without. Still… you may be of some use.”

She opened her portal with a gesture, a blazing violet corona rimming a disk of inky void. “Come,” she spoke imperiously, before stepping into it without so much as a glance back.

M’comm hesitated a moment, before following her into the void’s embrace.

 [-]

Darkness, cool and watery, embraced him. A warm current filled his fleshy manta-wings, carrying him through the briny blue. Then came the light, burning, cutting, like a knife. He was strapped face down on a cold metal slab. His wings were pinned back, like a moth on a lepidopterist’s table.

He could turn his head just enough to catch sight of a gleaming scalpel, descending from the burning light. It moved ever closer…

Closer…

Closer…

Angelo’s eyes snapped open in the bright light. A flat stiff medical bed was beneath him, pressing against his scars.

Light.

Surgery.

Knives!

He bolted upright in a mad panic.

“NO! GET AWAY FROM ME!”

“Woah, woah! Easy, Angelo,” Arsenal spoke reassuringly. “It’s okay, bro. You’re safe.”

“Roy?” Angelo glanced about, finding himself in the Watchtower’s infirmary. He tried to steady his breath, wiping a cold sweat from his brow. “Sorry, mate. I just… I don’t like hospitals.”

“I can relate,” answered Arsenal.

Traci, Andie and Kara lay about the other infirmary beds, conscious and seemingly uninjured but clearly shaken.

“What happened?” Angelo asked.

“The brass are still figuring that out.” Arsenal chin-pointed to the far side of the chamber.

Tigress, Halo, Catra, Adora, Bow, and Melog stood about a bio-bed slightly apart from the others. Laying upon it, was the still silent form of Doctor Fate.

“Can you do anything for him?” Tigress asked.

“I don’t know…” Halo bent to examine the shimmering wound in Fate’s belly. It had already scarred over, but Earth’s Sorcerer Supreme remained deathly still and unresponsive. “I might interfere with his own healing magic if I use my powers.”

“Well, at least he’s still alive,” sighed Tigress. “How could Glimmer do this?”

“I keep telling you, that… thing wasn’t Glimmer!” Bow snapped. “She would never… she couldn’t!”

Adora squeezed his shoulder. “We know, Bow, we know.”

“Bow’s right,” Catra added. “Sparkles might blow her top every now and then but she’s no killer, and I was around Horde Prime long enough to know when somebody’s being controlled by someone else.”

“No… Not someone… something.”

All turned in the direction of the rasping voice. Fate turned his helmed head weakly upon the bed, dark eyes hazed with pain.

Tigress leaned over the sickly Sorcerer Supreme. “You okay, Doc?”

“Fate endures.”

“What did you mean by ‘something’?” Adora asked.

“Your friend is possessed by a fallen Lord of Order, one who has rebelled against the Holy Balance itself.”

“You mean our friend you tried to murder?” Bow spat angrily.

“There are fates worse than death, child.”

“A rebel Lord of Order?” Tigress asked. “Isn’t that kind of an oxymoron?”

“It is rare, but there are those among the Host of Law whose zeal to purge Chaos is so all-consuming that they would reduce creation itself to ash. Such is why the Holy Balance exists, to prevent either Chaos or Order from overstepping their ordained roles. Admittedly, not all appreciate the value of such restraint.”

“Sounds like a swell bunch,” Adora snorted.

“The Lords do tend to be a bit monomaniacal,” Traci interjected, sidling over. “Hey Nabu, Khalid. How you guys doing?”

“We are healed but not whole,” intoned Fate with uncharacteristic softness. “Repairing Khalid’s wounds drained much of his vim vitae, his life force. He will need time to recoup his strength.”

Traci tensed. “Does that mean what I think that means?”

Fate’s featureless golden visage regarded her expectantly. “You know what is required.”

“I was afraid you were gonna say that,” Traci sighed in resignation, taking Fate’s golden helm in both hands.

As the helm slipped free, Fate’s gold and azure raiment dissolved in a shimmering haze. In place of the Sorcerer Supreme, lay a slender brown-skinned youth in an aquamarine hoodie. He smiled apologetically.

“Sorry about this, Traci.”

“Don’t worry about it, Khalid. Can you call Jamie and my dad to explain?”

He nodded weakly. “Consider it done.”

“Wait, what’s going on?” Catra interjected, grabbing Traci’s arm. “What the heck does ‘required’ mean?”

“You’ll see.” Traci’s shoulders slumped, raising the Helmet of Fate above her head. As she donned the helm, her own body was enveloped in celestial radiance, transforming her spartan darkwear into the gold and azure raiment of Doctor Fate.

Catra, Adora and Bow stepped back from the ominous figure. Melog raised their hackles.

“Thirteen?” Catra asked warily.

“Yes… and no,” intoned the voice of Fate.

[-]

Traci Thurston let out a long sigh. Or she would have had she still any voluntary control of her own respiratory system. So instead, she let out the idea of a sigh, the Platonic Sigh of which all other sighs were mere material shadows.

“You are pouting,” chided Nabu irritably.

“I am not pouting. You need lips to pout and you’re currently ‘borrowing’ mine.”

“It is necessary, Fate must not be denied.”

Traci rolled her eyes… or would have. Sharing headspace with Nabu was tedious at the best of times. You’d think a four-thousand-year-old Babylonian wisdom god would be a better conversationalist at least.

“So, we going after Eclipso now?”

“Without question. The Fallen One cannot be permitted t-”

Something rippled across their shared mental landscape. Traci would have cocked an eyebrow.

“Do you fee-”

Traci and Nabu were suddenly gripped by a will far beyond their own, tearing them from their shared flesh. They were flung across eternity, caught like leaves in raging gale. They were dragged outside space, outside time, until they found themselves floating amid a void without form or substance.

“THE HELL WAS-”

“Silence, Traci!” Nabu warned fearfully. “We must not speak unless They address us first.”

“‘They’? Who are ‘They’?”

Then Traci felt Them. No not ‘felt’. She felt nothing, sensed nothing. One moment, she was simply aware of Their presence as immediately and undoubtedly as she was of her own thoughts.

She had no idea how many of Them there were, a hundred… a thousand… one. Their thoughts formed a single interlocking clockwork, making it impossible to tell where one individual ended and another began, if any of Them could even be considered individuals in the proper sense.

Each was a mere expression of the whole, subsumed by a single purpose, a single inexorable logic. They were Intelligences old as time, vast as space. ‘There’ and ‘then’ were meaningless to Them. For Them, there was only the Eternal Now, the Infinite Here.

Traci would have shuddered if she could, as she and Nabu’s naked souls were laid bare before the cold scrutiny of the assembled hosts of the Lords of Order.

[-]

Catra waved a hand before Traci/Fate’s eyes. The Sorceress Supreme returned only a blank gaze.

“Is she… they… alright?”

“I wouldn’t worry, Traci and Nabu are probably just going at it,” said the boy nursing his abdomen on the bio-bed. He extended a hand to Bow. “I’m Khalid by the way.”

“Oh, right, Bow,” the archer took the offered hand desultorily.

“So… does this sorta thing happen a lot on Earth?” Adora asked.

Khalid shrugged. “Less than you’d think, more than I’d like.”

Doctor Fate’s eyes suddenly cleared, their gaze once more hard as stone.

“Fate?” Tigress asked. “What happened?”

“We were summoned by the Lords of Order. They have made their will known to us.”

“Great!” Bow enthused, clutching at hope.  “Then we can start strategizing and-”

“No,” intoned Fate coldly.

Tigress’ eyes narrowed. “Fate?”

“The Lords of Order have expressly forbidden us from taking any action in this matter.”

“What!?” Bow blurted. “Why?!”

“That is no concern of yours, mortal.”

“THE HELL IT ISN’T!?!” Bow lunged forward only for Adora to restrain him.

“Bow, please!”

“You can’t just do nothing!” Catra protested.

“That is all we can do,” Fate spoke. “Leroy!”

The tiny lizard scuttled out of nowhere, scampering up Fate’s arm to curl in the shelter of the Sorceress Supreme’s flared collar. A golden ankh opened in the air behind them.

“For good or ill… Fate may not intervene.”

A flash of golden light and they were gone, as surely as if they had never been.

Bow fell on his knees, tears freely streaming down his cheeks.

 [-]

ETHERIA

September 19, 23:16 UCT

M’comm emerged from darkness absolute into a gloom that was practically blinding by comparison. His muscles ached slightly. Wherever he was, the local gravity was just barely less than Earth’s.

He found himself within a great hall constructed from what once must have been elegantly cut crystals. Now its gleaming pillars lay shattered and cloaked in a gossamer veil of dust. Eclipso stood before him, still and inscrutable as the alien architecture, as though she was part of it.

<What is this place?> M’comm asked.

A tendril of sharp unlight pierced his heart, freezing every cell in his body. M’comm trembled in terror as void filled him, cold and empty as the night before creation.

“‘What is this place…?’” the demon sorceress quoted icily, like a disapproving school mistress.

<Wha… what is this place… Master?> M’comm pleaded.

“Good boy.” She unclenched her fist, withdrawing the blade of unlight.

M’comm fell to his knees on the polished crystal in a shuddering heap. He clutched his chest in a panic. The unlight had somehow pierced him without so much as breaking the skin.

“Now, to answer your question…”

Eclipso strode through the ruins. With each step, broken pillars reassembled themselves and sparkling pale blue facets turned to deepest obsidian. It was as though reality itself was fearfully rearranging in submission to her vision of what it should be.

“This place was once the seat of power for the so-called ‘First Ones’. From here, they sought to remake first Etheria, than the galaxy in their image.”

She placed her hand and the restored crystal plinth before her, pouring her power into it.

“Like all corporeal creatures, they thought far too small…”

BZZZZT-Administrator not re-re-BZZZT-

The ancient computer sputtered into silence for a moment, before swiftly rebooting itself.

Administrator recognized.

Initiating planetary shift in five…

Four…

Eclipso smirked as the entire complex thrummed with power

“Rejoice, Daughter of Light,” she whispered low, too low for even a M’arzzan to overhear. “For you shall have the honor of being the last living thing in this cosmos.”

Three…

Two…

One.

Chapter Text

BEAST ISLAND

September 28, 20:01 UCT

The ancient crystalline citadel shuddered like the belly of some groaning beast. Explosions rolled like distant thunder, creeping closer. Still, he maintained his composure as he entered the makeshift command center. Across the chamber, dozens of former Horde clones manned their consoles, shouting status reports flying back and forth.

“Secondary defense grid breached! Tertiary grid failing!

“Enemy reinforcements are disembarking along the north-east beachhead!”

Each of their flat chiropteran faces perfectly mirrored his own. He smiled inwardly at the irony.

“Nyaaah!” The high-pitched squeal came from a diminutive Etherian in grease-stained maroon overalls. Long strands of her purple prehensile hair were frantically working the main console. “Reroute emergency power to the defense grid!”

“The emergency generators are already at full capacity!” protested the white-haired clone by her side.

“Just do it!” Entrapta snapped, turning towards the new arrival. Her face brightened with joy, hope, even love as she laid eyes on him. “Hordak!?”

Etherians, so trusting.

“Thank goodness you’re here!” The Tech-Princess trilled, turning back to the console. “We’ve lost contact with Kalibak! He was on the outer perimeter when the attack began!”

How low Darkseid’s eldest had fallen. Abandoned on Etheria by his treacherous younger brother, a little cheap affection from these simpletons had been all it took to reduce ‘Kalibak the Cruel’ to a simpering lapdog.

I’ve been trying to raise him but the comms are scrambled,” Entrapta continued. “I think we’ve been hacked!”

He gripped her wrist like a vice, carelessly wrenching her from the console as his thin lips peeled back in a cruel leer. “Oh, it’s much worse than that, ‘your Highness’.”

Even now, she could have struck back, defended herself. Instead, all she did was give him a look of hurt confusion. “Hordak?”

“Brother, what are y-” One of the clones began, before ‘Hordak’ unleashed a mind-numbing psi-blast

He surveyed the aftermath of his handiwork, clones sprawled limply over their consoles, allowing the unconscious Entrapta to slump to the floor. He glared down contemptuously at his prey before deactivating what remained of the defense grid.

<Ma'alefa'ak to Rattlor, the citadel is secure.>

Across the chamber, vast hanger doors ground open, admitting a marching column of armored serpent-folk. The ophidian warriors came in all shapes and colors, some lithe and nimble as vipers, others hulking reptilian brutes with arms like constrictors.

Their commander was a particularly broad-shouldered specimen with rust-red scales. He was clad in the modified armor of a Horde Force Captain, repainted a glossy purple so dark it was near jet black. The original bat-winged sigil had been completely blotted out by an eclipsed silver moon.

“Nicely executed, my boy,” drawled General Rattlor, casually kicking over one of the limp clones. “I do say, you have quite the talent for treachery, Malefic.”

“Thank you, General,” Ma'alefa'ak answered audibly, still wearing Hordak’s form. He didn’t trust himself to hide his irritation with the snake-man’s mangling of his true name over a psi-link.

Rattlor bent over Entrapta’s still form, examining her disinterestedly. “Is she…?”

“No. Lord Eclipso requires her mind intact. She should be conscious in a few hours. I’d suggest securing her before then.”

Rattlor rose himself to his full height, wordlessly signaling a pair of his Snake-Troopers to make it so. “And the real Hordak?”

“Secure on one of the lower levels.”

Rattlor cocked a scaled brow. “Rather merciful of you, son?”

“No need to waste any more of these gene-freaks than necessary.” Ma'alefa'ak eyed the scattered clones appraisingly. “Lord Eclipso will require every strong back to complete her Great Work.”

*

THE WATCHTOWER

October 01, 16:52 EDT

BOOOOOM!!!

Catra, Bow, Adora, Kara and Melog came tumbling out of the thundering Boom-Tube. They landed on the polished floor of the Watchtower’s main lab with an ‘oof’ as the swirling vortex snapped shut behind them.

They found two figures awaiting them. The first was a dark-skinned Earther, tall and athletically built – literally. Half his body had been replaced by sleek alien cybernetics.

“No luck?” asked Victor Stone AKA Cyborg, one of the Justice League’s resident tech-heads.

“Nothing,” groaned Adora, straightening herself upright.

“Are you really surprised?” Catra asked. “We’ve spent nearly two weeks trawling Despondos-”

“The Phantom Zone,” Kara corrected.

“Whatever!” Catra snapped. “And we still haven’t seen any sign of Etheria. Wherever Glimmer-”

“Eclipso!” Bow protested.

“Whatever!” Catra snapped again. “Wherever Eclipso teleported Etheria, it ain’t the Despondo Zone or… whatever we’re calling it now.”

“Ah c’mon, y’all. Don’t give up that easy,” spoke the second figure by Cyborg’s side with a distinctly Southern twang.

To all outward appearances, Danny Chase looked like any other bespectacled, mousey-haired Earth boy of around twelve or so. In fact, the only thing that set him apart were the cables currently snaking from his fingertips, directly interfacing him with the lab’s computer.

The Etherians all knew Danny’s story, of course. Trafficked to Apokolips by the Light, the young metahuman had found himself under Desaad’s knife. The God-Scientist had extracted Danny’s still living brain, enslaving and imprisoning it within an Apokoliptan construct called the Kaizer-Thrall. The Team had managed to free Danny from Apokoliptan control late last year, but by then his original body was beyond saving.

That might have been the end of the story, had Cyborg, Red Tornado and the rest of the League’s brain trust not intervened. Now with a new android body - and a great deal of rehab therapy - Danny Chase was able to live some semblance of a normal life.

“Okay,” Adora panted, righting herself. “Let’s take ten to catch our breath before the next plunge.”

“Yeah… ‘bout that,” spoke Cyborg hesitantly. “Tigress wants to talk to y’all down in the foyer before anything else.”

“About what?” Bow asked warily.

*

“You’re cutting us off?!”

Bow’s voice echoed harshly across the airy foyer. An indifferent Earth floated serenely in the void beyond the panoramic two-story window, utterly unmoved by the archer’s outburst.

“It’s been long enough,” said Tigress. “You all need a break before you burn out.”

“But-” Bow began.

“But nothing, Bow,” Tigress snapped. “I know you guys are worried about Glimmer, but you’re running on fumes. Not to mention what opening a portal to the Zone takes out of Danny.”

“But-” Bow protested again.

Tigress was adamant. “Go home. Sleep.”

“But-”

“Now!”

Bow’s expression hardened, punching a polished pylon before storming off.

“Bow!” Adora was about to go after him when Catra’s hand fell on her shoulder.

“Hold up, let me talk to him.”

Adora looked bewildered. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah, I know. Just let me try something, okay?”

“Okay,” said Adora, watching Catra and Melog run after Bow.

Kara sidled up to Adora. “Well, this is just…”

She was cut off by the whirl of the Watchtower’s Zeta-Tube.

Recognized:

Miss Martian-B-Zero-Five,

Superboy-D-Zero-Nine.

“Great.”

Kara’s stomach knotted as two figures materialized out of the glowing portal. The first was slender with autumn-red hair and ash-white skin. The second was broad shouldered, clad in simple jeans and black tee-shirt; a shirt bearing a scarlet sigil that Kara knew all too well.

“M’gann, Conner!” Tigress raced forward, embracing her friends warmly. “Any word from Mars?”

“Nothing,” Miss Martian sighed.

“If Ma'alefa'ak’s on Mars, he’s keeping well under the ra-” Superboy paused, turning his head awkwardly.

That’s when Kara realized she’d been staring directly at him.

“Maybe we should talk somewhere more private?” Tigress suggested, leading the couple into the conference room.

Adora waited until all three were well out of earshot. “What was that about?”

“What?” Kara asked defensively.

“You were gawking at Superboy like he had two heads?”

“You wouldn’t get it, ‘Dora,” Kara huffed. “It’s… a Kryptonian thing.”

Adora fell quiet for a long moment, gazing out the Watchtower’s panoramic window at the slowly turning stars.

“I never knew my birth family, or my homeworld,” she spoke softly. “For all I know I’m the last of the First Ones.”

“‘Dora?”

“Don’t get me wrong, Catra, Bow, Glimmer and you are my family in every way that matters. It’s just…” She squeezed the Krypteen’s shoulder. “I know what I’d do if I were in your shoes.”

Now Kara fell quiet.

*

Artemis removed her mask. “How are your folks handling the news?”

“Ambivalently,” sighed M’gann. “They’re worried, of course, but I think Mom’s secretly relived M’comm’s not being extradited back to M’arzz. Our justice system’s not kind to A'ashenn offenders at the best of times.”

“You’re mom’s Green, right? Wouldn’t Ma'alefa'ak’s genocide virus last year have killed her too?”

“She’s a mom.” M’gann shrugged sadly. “She can’t help believing there’s still some good in her son.”

Conner snorted. “If there was ever a scrap of good in Ma'alefa'ak, it died of loneliness.”

“Don’t talk like that, Conner!” M’gann implored.

“I’m sorry, hun,” Conner spoke softly, taking her hands in his. “I know he’s still your brother, but when I think of the misery that creep’s put you and your family through…”

“He wasn’t always like this, you know,” M’gann sighed. “Back when we were kids, he was the shyest, sweetest child you could’ve hoped to meet. I remember one time, he accidentally stepped on a z’lt fly. He was so distraught he cried himself to sleep. I can still feel the guilt and shame clinging to him like a miasma.”

Artemis gave M’gann’s shoulder a tender squeeze. “Hey, I know what it’s like watching a sibling go bad. You can’t blame yourself.”

“I know,” M’gann sighed. “But enough self-pity. How are our guests holding up?”

*

Bow sat sullenly on the grass, brooding in the still quiet of the Watchtower’s atrium. He watched the Earth above as it hung in the void, cold and alone.

Ting?

“Hmm?” Bow looked down at the Fatherbox nestled in his lap. “No, Relay, I’m fine.”

“Relay?”

Bow glanced over his shoulder as Catra sat down beside him, Melog resting their head in her lap.

“That’s what he likes being called.” Bow nodded back at the Fatherbox.

Catra repressed a shudder at the sight of the living Apokoliptan computer. “You still carrying that thing around?”

“He’s good company,” said Bow morosely.

“Okaaay…” Catra began awkwardly. “So, how are you feeling?”

“Real tired of answering that question.”

“Chh, now you know how I feel.”

Bow didn’t laugh.

Catra tensed. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Sure…”

“Before she took off, Glim… I mean, Eclipso said something about the way she ‘really felt’ about me,” Catra repressed a chill. “The way she spoke… it was so cold… so full of hate. It was like she was drawing on some well of darkness deep in Glimmer’s soul. I mean, I know we’ve had issues, but I thought we got over that.”

Bow’s voice was low and bitter. “Somethings are harder to get over than others.”

“Meaning..?”

“What, you don’t remember your little portal scheme?”

“Uggh… You’re not gonna play the ‘almost destroyed reality’ card again, are you? How many times do I have to-”

“SHE LOST HER MOM, CATRA!” Bow abruptly snapped. “You don’t just ‘get over’ something like that!”

Catra recoiled, taken aback by his vehemence. “I… she never said anything.”

“Seriously!? You two never talked about this?!” Bow snapped. “Did you even think to ask?”

“I…”

“I can’t believe even you’re this thoughtless!” Bow leapt to his feet, carrying the Fatherbox. “C’mon, Relay. Let’s get out of here.”

He stormed off again, leaving Catra alone and speechless.

*

Adora realized something was wrong the moment Catra returned to the foyer with Melog in tow; her body was shaking, her blue/yellow eyes downcast. Adora reached for her.

“Hey, what happened?”

“I-” Catra began, before Tigress, Miss Martian and Superboy came filing out of the conference room.

“Is everything okay?” Tigress asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Catra answered shortly. “I just… I wanna go back to Star City now?”

“Uh… sure,” Tigress turned to Miss Martian and Superboy. “I’ll catch you two planetside.”

“We’ll talk later, okay?” Catra gave Adora a quick hug before dashing into the whirring Zeta-Tube.

Recognized:

Catra-B-Three-Nine,

Melog-C-Zero-Six,

Tigress-B-Zero-Seven.

That just left Adora, Superboy, Miss Martian and Kara; who had been standing awkwardly to the side the whole time.

“Why don’t you head off without me, babe?” Miss Martian gave him a peck on the cheek. “I’ll catch up.”

“Sure,” Conner answered hesitantly, returning her peck before stepping into the glowing Zeta-Tube.

Recognized:

Superboy-D-Zero-Nine.

As the Zeta-Tube dimmed, M’gann turned to the extrasolar visitors.

“Hey, Adora, Kara… I was just wondering how you guys were settling in?”

“Oh, we’re doing great,” answered Adora. “I mean… my best friend is possessed by a malevolent cosmic entity, and she’s basically kidnapped our entire planet, and we may never see our friends or loved ones again but other than that… great.”

M’gann blinked.

“Sorry.” Adora said sheepishly. “Dr. Quinzel says I should try sharing more. I may have overdone it.”

“I’m a counselor, I’ve heard worse, believe me,” M’gann replied. “How about you, Kara, how are you holding up?”

The Krypteen shrugged. “‘Kay… I guess.”

“Good to hear… so…” M’gann paused awkwardly. “How would you two feel about joining us at Conner and Clark’s parents’ place for Sunday dinner next week? Bow and Catra can come too, of course.”

“We’d love to,” Adora enthused, nudging her ward. “Wouldn’t we, Kara?!”

“Sure,” Kara mumbled. “I guess it’d be an honor or whatever.”

“Perfect,” M’gann trilled. “I’ll send you all the details later. Right now, I’ve got a babysitter to relieve. TTYL!”

Recognized:

Miss Martian-B-Zero-Five.

The Zeta-Tube charged up once more as M’gann disappeared it’s golden light.

“Hey, Kara?” Adora asked.

“Ya?”

“Who’s Clark?”

Kara shrugged. “I dunno.”

*

BUNURU BAY, NEW SOUTH WALES

October 02, 11:15 AEST

BZZZT-BZZZT-BZ-

Angelo del Rey hit the snooze button on his alarm, again.

Not that an extra five minutes would have done him much good. He didn’t sleep much last night, like most nights since…

Since Modulok.

The scars running down his back hurt again, they always hurt. The doctors couldn’t really do much for him. How were they supposed to treat the loss of limbs he wasn’t even supposed to have in the first place? Nothing for it but to roll over and try to doze off again.

He was dimly aware of a distant knocking on the front door, followed by a mumbling downstairs. He was far more acutely aware of his mum’s voice ringing throughout the house.

“Angelo, luv! One of your mates from work to see you!”

Mates from work? Angelo groggily dragged himself out of bed. “Down in a min, mum!”

He slipped on a pair of old jeans and a loose t-shirt, briefly dabbling with the idea of strapping on his binder before heading downstairs. Honestly, he wasn’t up for the extra hassle this morning. Finally, he gave his armpits a quick sniff.

It’ll do, he thought, putting on his happy face.

*

“And then he started crawling backwards,” Velma del Rey giggled, sipping tea as her son entered the kitchen. “Morning, sleepy head! We were just talking about you!”

Angelo rubbed the gunk out of his eye. “Who…?”

“Still suffering from Zeta-lag, eh?” Roy Harper raised his mug in greeting before taking a sip. “This blend is delish, Ms. del Rey.”

“Thank you, dear, and please, call me Velma.”

“Roy!?” Angelo gawked. “What are you-”

“Thought we might go for a walk on the beach,” answered Roy. “Mind if I borrow your son for a bit, Velma?”

“Oh, of course not. Angelo, luv, let me get your coat first,” said Velma, bustling about. She carefully leaned in to whisper in her son’s ear as she handed him the coat. “He’s cute.”

Angelo blushed furiously. “Pretty sure I’m not his type, Mum.”

“I live hope,” murmured Velma. “You boys have fun!”

*

The foamy waves of the Pacific Ocean lovingly lapped the golden sands, slow and steady, like a heartbeat. If the Earth was Mother, thought Angelo, then the ocean was surely her womb. He gazed out into the cool inviting blue. God, he just wanted to lose himself in the Deep for a few hours, feel the rippling currents over his gills, drown his worries in-

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Roy’s voice startled the young metahuman out of his funk. Angelo had hardly spoken a word since leaving the house. “Hh? Oh, sorry, mate. M’mind was just… drifting.”

“No worries,” Roy picked a small flat stone from the sand between his cybernetic fingers, before skipping it perfectly across the rolling waves.

Angelo let out a low whistle. He could barely skip a stone across a flat lake. His mind cycled back to the training session two weeks ago, and the stupid insensitive crack he had thoughtlessly made about Roy’s arm. Angelo hadn’t spoken to Roy since. It was probably too much to hope getting attacked by a possessed alien sorceress right after had driven the incident from Roy’s memory.

“Look, Roy… about what I said at the last training sesh… I was way outta line.”

“Don’t sweat it. Though that’s sorta why I wanted to talk to you.”

Angelo tensed guiltily. “Really?”

“Vic and I are putting together a support group for people in the Life who’ve had to cope with our kinda… issues.” Roy flexed the servos of his prosthetic arm. “Interested?”

Angelo looked shame-faced, the scars on his back burned. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

Roy snorted. “What? You think you’re too good for us, del Rey?”

“No! It’s not that!” Angelo blurted. “It’s just… I wasn’t even born with my wings. How can I compare that with what you’ve gone through?”

“You think I don’t ask myself the same thing whenever I look at Vic or Robotman?” Roy’s voice was soft. “This isn’t a game of ‘who’s got the biggest disability’, Angelo, and not all scars are visible.”

Angelo gave no answer for a long while, gazing out over the dreaming ocean.

*

HOLLYWOOD

October 02, 20:44 PDT

“The Outsiderrrs; thrrreat orrr mena-”

Klick

“Hellooo Mega-”

Klick

“Goode World Classic Movies presents Jonathan Lord and Sandra Stanyon in… Silverblade!”

A cloaked figure rode on horseback across the silent greyscale moors. Suddenly, the hero was beset by a band of dastardly brigands, ne’re-do-wells and mayhap even the odd blackguard.

“Uuugh,” Leslie Willis groaned. “Do we really have to watch this old timey heteronormative carp?”

“What?!” Gar Logan protested, his green nose wrinkling indignantly. “This is classic cinema! It captures Jonathan Lord at the very pinnacle of his craft!”

His corgi Wingman yipped in confirmation from the seat next to him.

“Just let it go, Leslie,” Andie Murphy yawned, her head nestled drowsily in her girlfriend’s lap.

“Adora, Bow, Kara, back me up here!” Leslie shouted to the two sitting on the far end of the couch. Ever since they were stranded on Earth, the Outsiders had been letting the three offworlders crash at their HQ

“What happened to the color?” Kara asked, squinting at the tv. “Is the screen broke?”

“Nah, Kara. It’s supposed to look like that.” Gar answered.

“Ah! Okay!” Kara nodded, before thinking for a moment. “Wait, why?”

Bow slumped despondently, staring into space. “I’m going to bed.” he droned before finally dragging himself from the couch.

“Are you sure?” Adora asked worriedly. “It’s still pretty early?”

“Yeah,” Bow grunted, disappearing up the stairs and into his room.

*

He lay on the bed sheets, eyes boring into the ceiling above. He wished he could sleep, then he wouldn’t have to think about anything, wouldn’t have to feel anything.

Relay stood upright upon his bedstand. Theoretically, Bow could have used the Fatherbox to plumb the depths of Despondos on his own. But Tigress not categorically forbidden Cyborg and Danny from disclosing the shadow plane’s quantum frequency. Probably to keep Bow from doing something exactly that stupid.

Ting?

Bow rolled over, his back to the living computer. “Leave me alone, Relay.”

Ting!

Bow perked up slightly. “Who?”

Tap-tap

Out on the balcony, rapping on the glass door, stood Catra. She was impatiently tapping her bare foot as Melog stretched languidly across the guardrail.

“Nggg…” Bow dragged himself off the bed before sliding back the door with a frown. “You’re not supposed to be here, Catra.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot.” Catra slinked into the room, nimbly perching herself atop the dresser.

“How did you even get past the Hub’s security net?”

“Duh, who do you think installed it?” Catra smirked, flashing her Bowhunter ID card.

Bow cast his eyes downward guiltily. “Look, Catra, about what I said earlier…”

“Forget it.” She waved him off. “I figure if you’re snapping at people, then you must really need cheering up?”

“Thanks,” Bow sighed. “But I don’t really feel like talking right now.”

“Oh, I didn’t say anything about talking.” Catra leaped of the dresser, hooking her arm around Bow’s shoulder, drawing him into a conspiratorial headlock. “I’m gonna cheer you up my way.”

*

STAR CITY

October 02, 21:53 PDT

Bow narrowly ducked behind a crate as a blast of crimson particle fire went blazing over his head, his voice cracking as he yelped.

“THIS CHEERS YOU UP?!?!”

“What?! It’s stress relief!” Catra protested as her bare heel impacted the jaw of another armed goon. “Besides, think of all the good we’re doing!”

Bow nocked an arrow, taking out yet another thug with a bola arrow. “Which is what exactly?!”

“Stopping these creeps from trafficking stolen cultural artefacts!” Catra dived under a swinging fist, her claws digging into the attacker’s wrist before twisting his arm behind his back.

“Seriously?!”

“What?! Aren’t your dads archeologists or something?!” Catra slammed the thug into wall, stunning them. “I thought you’d be all into protecting this nerd stuff!”

“Risking my life for some pottery isn’t exactly why I joined the Rebellion,” Bow’s eyes went wide, reaching for his quiver. “CATRA, LOOK OUT!”

Catra caught the glint of the knife out of the corner of her eye, coming too fast for even her to dodge.

That’s when Melog pounced out of literal thin air, pinning the attacker to the hard floor.

“Thanks, Mel.” Catra scratched behind the feyline’s ears, surveying the unconscious goons scattered like leaves across the warehouse before turning to Bow. “Nothing like fighting for your life to get your mind off your worries, huh?”

“Yeah, by giving you a whole new set of worries,” said Bow, bending over one of the unconscious goons. “Hey, look at this.”

He pulled back the goon’s collar to reveal a small symbol tattooed on the nape of their neck; something like an inverted cross crowning an infinity symbol.

“Any idea what this is?”

“No clue.” Catra cast a curious glance about. “Looks like they all have one.”

Bow dismissed the mystery for now. “Look Catra, thanks for getting me out of my own head, even if it was just for a little while.”

“Hey,” Catra flashed a toothy grin. “What are friends for?”

*

NOTTINGHAM, UK

October 03, 20:21 BST

The office was decadently furnished yet dimly lit. The green-blue glow of the laptop was the only light that flickered upon idols plundered from across the globe, casting ghoulish dancing shadows.

Her eyes narrowed to cat-like slits as the debacle in Star City played out on the screen. She paused on a frame of the young cat-like ‘hero’, frozen laughter like a taunt, mocking her. She could feel the Beast rising to the bait, rattling the bars of her soul. Her nails dug into the African Blackwood desk as she forced it back into its cage.

“My Lady?”

She looked up at her diminutive manservant. His face was as dark and withered as oak, and twice as inscrutable.

“Yes, Chuma?”

“A call for you, my Lady,” he held up a small flip phone, discreet as it was disposable. “From ‘Home Office’.”

She braced herself as she took the phone.

“Speaking… Yes, Ma’am, I’m looking over the footage as we speak… No, I agree. This affront cannot go unpunished… Understood. There will be no further ‘incidents’.”

She snapped the phone shut, biting back a snarl. She’d worked too long and too hard, clawing her way back up the ranks of the Organization after the fiasco in Paris five years earlier, just to lose it all to another ill-bred alley cat.

“Chuma, prep my private jet for a direct flight to Star City.” She flashed a fanged leer. “We’re going on a little hunting trip.”

Chapter Text

THE TIMELESS REALM

------- --, --:-- ---

He had been walking for what seemed an eternity. It might literally have been an eternity, in this place where time – as mortals understood it - did not exist. It made little difference regardless. It was his fate to walk the winding paths of Infinity, with no place to rest his head onto the Age. Every footstep was merely another bead of his penance.

Such was the doom of the Phantom Stranger.

This particular path was quite unlike the kind he usually walked, level as polished marble, straight as a beam of light, an inevitable as a bullet. Above, around and below him, unblinking pure white stars stretched into forever, forming intricate fractal constellations. They were like ice crystals on the surface of a black sea, beautiful but cold.

He halted, a figure suddenly blocking his path. They had not appeared in a flash of golden light, or stepped from a portal in space. There had not even been a flicker in the air. One moment they were not, the next they simply were.

“Child?” the Stranger asked.

No, this was not the Chaos Lord that had ravaged the Earth, though this child was almost her exact negative image; dark-skinned, perfectly hairless and clad in a uniform of immaculate white. Their eyes opened, shimmering a pale golden light.

“Grey Walker, you require an audience with… the Host.”

It was not a question.

“My Lords,” The Stranger bowed, though he did not remove his midnight blue fedora. “I come with a petition.”

“Speak.”

“Some time ago, as linear beings reckon, a fallen Lord of Order was released back into the material universe.”

“We are aware. What of it?”

“If left unchecked, the Entity’s deprivations will inevitably overturn the Holy Balance itself.”

“You exaggerate, Grey Walker. The Holy Balance is not so fragile as to be undone by any one being, even a Lord of Order. The Fallen One will be attended to in due course.”

“But what of the worlds that will perish in the meantime?” The Stranger implored. “The countless beings who will suffer and die in the conflagration?”

“Mortals spend their whole lives suffering and dying,” intoned the Host without tone. “Of what consequence is it?”

“‘Of what consequence?’” The Stranger echoed angrily, rising to his feet. “Eclipso is one of your own! She is your responsib-” White pain racked his body, sending him back to his knees.

“Remember your place, pariah,” The Host’s eyes shined like pale gold. “We will not be judged by such as you.”

The Stranger panted, clutching his chest as the pain subsided. A sudden realization struck him as he glared into those chill golden eyes. “You… you want Eclipso free?”

“This audience is terminated.”

With that, the Host was not as unceremoniously as they had been.

The Stranger rose to his feet before resuming his long lonely walk, drawing his midnight blue cloak tightly about his body to keep out the cold and bitter star-winds.

*

SMALLVILLE

October 10, 16:01 CDT

The autumn breeze was cool and gentle, sending rippling golden waves across the Kansas cornfields before playfully rattling the wind-chime hanging on the porch of the old farmhouse.

“Does my jacket look okay?” Adora asked, adjusting with her shoulder pads. “Are my shoulders pointy enough?”

“Your shoulders are fine,” said Kara irritably, rocking anxiously back and forth on her heels. The Kryptonian teen had already exchanged her Etherian outfit for jeans, a simple white tee and black vest.

They stood before an oak door expectantly.

“So…” Adora’s fingers tapped the side of the baking tray held in her arms. “You gonna knock or…?”

“Yeah… right…” Kara steeled herself before very very gently rapping her knuckles on the oaken door. The way her nerves were right now, she was libel to knock it off its hinges. Muffled voices rose from within in answer.

“mE AM gEt it!”

“Bro, wait!”

A second later the door really was torn off its hinges.

Kara recoiled before the… thing standing in the doorway. It was like some misshapen nightmare from the blackest eras of Kyptonian history. Muscles swelled to grotesque proportions rippled obscenely under corpse-white skin. It held the remains of the door in an oversized malformed paw as it shrugged sheepishly;

“OopS! SoRry.”

Kara continued to stare in mute horror, jaw hanging limp.

“Oh hi!” Adora beamed. “Are you Clark?”

“Match!” Superboy rapidly interjected himself between the pale hulk and the two visitors. “Why don’t you let me take care of that, bro?” He carefully laid the broken door aside. “Adora, Kara, uh… This is my brother, Match. Match, Adora and Kara.”

‘Match’ waved, flashing a lopsided grin. “pLEAsUre am tO meEt You.”

“Why don’t you go help Pa’ in the barn, big guy?” Superboy asked.

“am sURe thinG, bRO!” Match answered, stomping eagerly off towards the barn.

“Sorry ‘bout him, he’s harmless, just gets a little overexcited,” said Superboy. “Hope he didn’t scare you?”

“How do you mean?” Adora asked, arching a bemused eyebrow.

Kara side-eyed her unflapped companion, before reminding herself that Adora had been raised in a place literally called the ‘Fright Zone’.

Something zipped past Kara, faster than even her reaction time could clock. The blurr circled her and Adora like an overstimulated tornado before coming to a dead stop in front of them. He looked much like any other four-year-old earthboy, all bright blue eyes and eager smiles.

He was also hovering about five feet in mid-air.

“Hi, I’m Jonny! Are you Kara!? Can you fly!? Do you wanna race!?” the boy blurted, hoveringly awkwardly close to the Krypteen.

Kara leaned back. “I.. umm… yes, yes and… maybe?”

“Speaking of ‘overexcited’,” chuckled Superboy. “Kara, Adora, this is my nephew, Jonny ‘Jon-El’ Kent.”

“Are those brownies?!” Jonny blurted, suddenly turning his attention toward the tray in Adora’s hands.

“Uh, yeah, Kid Flash made them for us. They’re like ration bars but with flavor!” Adora cheerily held up the tray. “You want one?”

“Maybe after dinner, Lois’ll kill me if I let him load up on sugar,” answered Superboy. “C’mon, we’ll show you the house.”

“Aaaaww!” Jonny sighed dejectedly, floating back inside after the rest.

The farmhouse’s interior was cosy, despite the sudden draft.

“Do you want help with that door?” asked Adora. “I’m pretty good with a hammer.”

“Nah, I can patch it up after dinner,” said Superboy. “This old place is used to DIY.”

“In the meantime,” a new voice spoke as the battered door floated upright, wedging itself back into place.

“That should do for now,” said the redhead standing on the far end of the hall, holding something bundled in the crook or her arm as her free hand directed the telekinetic load. “Hey guys.”

“Hey, Miss Martian!” said Adora.

“Please, Adora, we’re off-duty,” she chuckled. “You can call me M’gann.”

The bundle curled in M’gann’s arm began to squirm slightly.

“Oh, and here’s the latest addition to the Kent Clan…”

M’gann gently pulled back the swaddling clothe to reveal a dark scrunched-up face crowned by a single black forelock. The babe blinked sleepily, letting out a tinny yawn.

“Adora, Kara, this is Christopher Laurence Morse-Kent,” spoke M’gann with infinite tenderness. “aka K’rii M’orzz, aka Lor-El.”

“Hey there, little buddy,” Adora cooed, bending over the child while Kara kept her distance. “Where did you come from?”

“That’s a… long story,” said Superboy, wrapping an arm around his wife and son.

“About a millennium long,” added M’gann, before noticing the wistful gleam in Adora’s eye. “Is something wrong?”

“No, it’s just you all look so… nice, I never knew my birth family, and I don’t know if Catra would even want to…” sha shook her head. “Nevermind.”

“Where is Catra?” asked Superboy. “She and Bow were invited too, right?”

“They couldn’t make it, something came up.”

*

STAR CITY

October 10, 14:17 PDT

“Minerva Acquisitions L-T-D?” Bow squinted. Even with his technoculars, he could barely read the sign adorning the small and unassuming office block. Thick pea-soup fog blanketed the city like a damp shroud. “Doesn’t look like an evil lair?”

“Don’t let the shiny exterior fool you,” answered Catra. “Word on the street says this place is just a front for Leviathan.”

“Levia-what?” Bow asked, lowering the technoculars. He, Catra and Melog were perched atop a pair of stone gargolyes across the street from their target.

“Remember that weird symbol we found tattooed on those goons last week?” Catra handed him a crumpled scrap of paper.

Bow examined the insignia in question: something like an inverted cross crowning an infinity symbol. “Yes?”

“I did a little reading through Bowhunter Security’s files. And yes, I read things now, try not to look so shocked,” snipped Catra. “It’s the logo of Leviathan, a criminal network that traffics in everything from alien weaponry to black market sorcery to people.”

“People?” Bow asked in confusion.

Catra didn’t elaborate. Life on Earth was a lot more… complicated than on Etheria, and Earthlings were capable of doing things to each other that even Hordak at his worst would never have even considered.

“The place should be deserted on a Sunday,” Catra plowed on. “If we can get in, we might be able to find some solid evidence linking them to Leviathan.”

Ting!

Bow patted the Fatherbox on his belt. “Relay says he can boom us in?”

“Boom-Tubes ain’t exactly stealthy,” countered Catra. “Last thing we want is to bring the whole block down on us.”

“Guess we’re doing this the old-fashioned way,” sighed Bow, drawing a zip-line arrow.

Moments later, Bow, Catra and Melog alighted atop the office block. Bow drew another shaft, its arrowhead unfolding into a sophisticated lock-pick as he bent to examine the roof access.

“Can you get us in?” Catra whispered.

“I think so…” Bow craned his neck to study the conspicuous wires lining the doorframe. “Alarm seems pretty basic, even by Earth standards. Just gimme a minute.”

A few seconds later, the door popped open with a silent click, revealing a long stairwell sinking into the darkness.

Catra gestured. “After you.”

The three had barely taken five steps when the stairway suddenly shifted, transforming into a slick frictionless chute that sent the screaming Etherians spiraling downward into the abyss.

*

HALL OF JUSTICE, NEW YORK

October 10, 17:32 EDT

Recognized:

Devil Ray-B-Three-Eight.

Angelo del Rey – casually dressed in jeans and a loose crop top - stepped out of the whirling golden glow of the Zeta-Tube and into the spacious plushly furnished library. He’d never actually been inside the Justice League’s public HQ before, being a member of the covert Team. It was all a bit overwhelming honestly.

“Hey, Angelo!”

Roy Harper approached, giving the Australian metahuman a friendly arm clasp. “How’re you feeling, bro?”

“Little nervous, to be honest,” Angelo stifled a yawn. “And maybe a little sleepy.”

“Yeah, sorry I couldn’t fix anything a little more reasonable on Oz time. Everybody’s schedules are kinda all over the place.”

“’scool, mate,” said Angelo. “Always been a bit of an early bird anyway.”

“C’mon, I’ll introduce you to the guys.”

Three figures were already making themselves at home around the coffee table at the center of the library. Angelo recognized the first immediately.

“Yo, Angelo!” Cyborg offered a cybernetic hand, a sleeveless hoodie thrown over his torso. “Welcome the party, man.”

“Hey, Cyborg,” answered Angelo, gingerly taking the metal hand.

“You can call me ‘Vic’, bro,” he chortled. “We’re both off the clock here.”

“Thanks, Vic.” Angelo was starting to feel a bit more comfortable and at ease, which made it all that harder to hide his shock at the figure looming behind Vic.

At first, Angleo had thought it was just guy in a worn leather jacket, albeit unusually tall and broad-shouldered. That was until it turned, revealing a bronzed face… literally. The frozen anglular features were cast upon a ‘skull’ that was little more than a metal cylinder. Polished silvered optics regarded Angelo challengingly.

“Wassamatter, Kid?” spoke a static tinged voice, emitting from the unmoving slot that passed for a mouth. “Ya ain’t never seen a friggin’ robot man before?”

Of course, Angelo had seen Cliff Steele – aka Robotman – many times before. But online vids and hadn’t prepared him for meeting the cybernetic hero face to face.

“I… I’m sorry for staring, Mr. Steele,” Angelo muttered, eyes downcast and shame-faced.

“Ah, fugget about it, Kid,” Cliff guffawed, giving Angelo a hearty backslap that nearly bowled the young meta over. “Jus’ don’ make a habit outta it, alrite?”

“Alrite,” Angelo laughed sheepishly.

“And this is Paula Crock,” said Roy, gesturing to an older East-Asian woman in a wheelchair. “Paula, Angelo.”

“Charmed,” spoke Paula, offering the young Ozzie a hand.

“’Crock’?” Angelo’s brow furrowed. “You wouldn’t be related to-”

“Whoever you’re thinking of, the answer is probably ‘yes’.” Paula sighed. “Will Barbara be joining us?”

“Barb said she couldn’t make it,” Roy shrugged. “Bat-business.”

“Friggin’ typical,” grunted Cliff, carrying a tray of mugs and a beaker of steaming fresh coffee.

“So…” spoke Roy tentatively once everyone had taken their seats around the low table. “Who wants to go first?”

*

STAR CITY

October 10, 14:52 PDT

Stars erupted to life in the void, like blazing flowers, before being swallowed again by the black. Bow’s eyes flickered open, only to be filled by a darkness barely less Stygian. An amorphous blue nebula slowly resolved itself into a shimmering misty mane.

“Ugh… Melog?” Bow groaned.

The fey licked his face with concern. Being a creature of pure living magic, Melog’s tongue left no trace of moistness, only a strange sort of warm staticky sensation.

“Can you walk?” Catra whispered, offering him her hand.

“I think so.” Bow answered, clambering to his feet with her help. “Where are we, a prison cell?”

Catra shook her head, face dim in the faint glow offered by Melog. “Somekinda corridor, but I don’t feel like exploring. Can your little friend boom us out?”

Bow nodded. No sooner had he drawn out the Fatherbox when a searing particle beam turned the corridor blood-red, blasting the living computer from his hand.

“RELAY!?!”

Bow crouched over the Fatherbox, its casing cracked and charred, exposing sparking partially molten wires.

“What happened?!” Catra demanded. “Is he-”

TING!!! TING!!! TING!!! TING!!! TING!!!

“He’s screaming!” Bow cried, cradling Relay’s mangled chassis.

“Now, now, we can’t have you leaving so soon,” purred a crisp voice in the darkness. “Not when our little game has just begun.”

“Who are you?!” Catra demanded.

“Someone who doesn’t care for ill-bred alley cats,” snarled the voice with contempt. “But I’m a sportswoman at heart. What say I give you a five-minute head start?”

A glowing red dot came to rest dead center on Catra’s chest.

“Run.”

*

Her lips peeled back in a predatory leer, as she watched the two youths and their pet race across the monitors of the security room. “Chuma.”

“My Lady,” answered her diminutive manservant, raising a stony eyebrow.

“Arm up,” she purred. “Time to get our claws wet.”

She bent over suddenly, bones and musculature shifting as the control room filled with the animalistic howl of something between agony and ecstasy.

*

NEW YORK

October 10, 18:02 EDT

“After the crash, everything got kinda… fuzzy. Next thing I knew, I came to and found out Chief had stuck my friggin’ brain in this tin can.” Cliff rapped his knuckle-servos on the side of his metal cranium. “Wut a revoltin’ development?”

“Weren’t you angry at him?” Vic asked.

“Angry? I wanted to friggin’ kill him!” Cliff roared “I thought my life was over! I thought if he was really my friend then he shudda let me die like a man! I hated him for years, even when we were working together in the Doom Patrol.”

“What changed?” Roy asked.

“He died,” Cliff answered bitterly. “Along with the rest of the original Patrol. After they finally trawled my thick skull from the bottom o’ that river, Garfield helped me realize how friggin’ stupid I’d been, resenting my own life.”

“And now?” asked Paula.

“Now I realize my life is a gift, Doing good, trying to leave this poor ol’ world a li’l better than I found it, that’s my way of showin’ some gratitude.” Cliff’s mechanical hand reached unconsciously for the thin gold chain about his broad neck, absently fingering the small unadorned cross that hung there.

“Don’t get me wrong, bein’ stuck in this tin can still drives me friggin’ nuts some days, but… knowing I got folks who care about me, folks I can go to when it all gets a little too much, that really helps.”

“That’s what this group is all about, Cliff,” said Roy. “Giving heroes in our situation a place where we can open up.”

“Hey, watch who you’re calling ‘hero’, Roy.” Paula smirked over her coffee. “Some of us got reps to think about.”

“Noted, Paula,” snorted Roy, scanning the room. “So, who wants to go next? How about you, Angelo?”

“Me?” blurted the Ozzie.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel comfortable yet.”

“No, no, it’s crash, mate. I think I need this,” Angelo took a deep breath, turning to the group. “So, small bit o’ context first off; I used to have wings...”

*

Roy and Vic had heard the story before, or at least most of it. Angelo del Rey had been just another transgender teenaged surfhead growing up on the coast of Oz, living a life of lazy days and balmy nights.

That was before being trafficked to Granny Goodness’ Orphanage. The pain of his metagene being forcibly activated had been agonizing, gill slits tearing open down along his neck, burning in the acrid Apokoliptan air of his cell. But even that had paled before the pain of great manta-like pinions erupting from his shoulders.

After being rescued by the Justice League, returning to life on Earth had been… an adjustment. But one thing, beautiful and joyous, had come from the horror of the Orphanage: his wings. He’d never be able to take to the air on them, but he could still fly after a fashion, soaring the ocean currents as easily as a hawk soared the winds. Oh, how he soared.

His hero career as ‘Sea Angel’ hadn’t been quite so action packed as some. Without much super-crime to fight in Bunburu Bay, he’d largely kept to helping the local coast guard with search and rescue or appearing at the odd charity event. All and all, the life of a local hero hadn’t been a bad one.

Then, for the second time in his young life, Angelo’s world came crashing down around him. He’d been drying off on the warm sands after a particularly deep dive, the setting sun casting a golden gleam across the rippling sea. He wasn’t sure how long he’d dozed off for, but when he awoke, the warm glow had been replaced by an altogether different light; cold and alien.

The craft had blotted out half the evening stars with its strange asymmetrical silhouette, a shadow behind an alien light. He froze, before he was dismantled on the molecular level. Next thing he knew, he was lying facedown on a cold sterile operating table. Above him loomed a hulking… shape.

Modulok.

That’s what the Outsiders had named the alien organ thief. Obsessed with ‘upgrading’ himself into the ultimate lifeform, had come to Earth to ‘harvest’ its rich metahuman population. The Outsiders and their Etherian allies had eventually succeeded in saving Angelo… but not without cost.

*

The twin scars running down Angelo’s back burned, like the tears running down his cheeks.

“I’m sorry…” he muttered. “It’s just… a lot.”

A heavy metal hand rested on his slim shoulders.

“Ya did good, son,” Cliff whispered softly. “Ya did good.”

*

SMALLVILLE

October 10, 17:42 CDT

“So, Match, how’s the job with Mayor Donovan going?” asked the silver-haired woman the Kents called ‘Ma’.

“IS GoOd, ma. we Be am FiNAliZiNG rEZonINg pAPeRwOrk FoR nEW geRmaNIuM CiTy pUBLIC PaRK."

“I’m proud of ya, son,” added Pa’ Kent. “Good to see the young folk being civically engaged.”

“I’m just grateful to you all for keeping us company while Clark is… abroad,” said Ma’.

“Please, Ma’, we should be thanking you,” answered M’gann as baby Christopher guzzled from a milk bottle in her arms. “It’s honestly a relief to get away from the Life for a couple days.”

“PLeAse be am pAsSInG maSHeD pOtAtOES.”

“Sure thing, bro.”

Kara flinched as Superboy passed the bowl to Match, the creature’s arm came close to brushing against hers, too close.

 *

JUSTICE ISLAND

October 10, 18:58 EDT

Recognized:

Cyborg-Three-Nine.

“See, y’all next week.” Vic gave a hearty salute, before disappearing into the golden whirl of the Zeta-Tube, leaving Roy and Angelo alone in the library.

“Come on,” said Roy, punching Angelo in the arm. “Time to clean up.”

A moment later found the two up to their arms in suds, scrubbing down the used coffee mugs.

“You’ve been awful quite,” asked Roy, rinsing out a mug. “You okay?”

Angelo was silent for a long moment, collecting his thoughts. “Yeah...” he smiled. “I think I am.”

*

STAR CITY

October 10, 16:11 PDT

Catra, Bow and Melog had been dashing through the winding labyrinth that made up the innards of the office building for over an hour with no end in sight, their way lit only by the twilight glow of Melog’s shimmering mane. Their desperate flight finally came to a startled halt in a dead end. Catra punched the blank wall in frustration.

“Rrrgh! This is stupid!” Catra snarled, punching the blank wall in frustration. “There’s gotta be a vent or something somewhere!”

“Hold up!” Bow unslung his quiver, kneeling to rummage through it. “Maybe I can- GRRAAAAGHH!!!!”

“Bow!?” Catra cried, dashing to the fallen archer’s side “What happened?”

“I… I don’t know…” he groaned, wincing in pain. “I think something hit me from behind?”

Catra’s eyes scanned the darkness. “Mel, a little light?”

Melog drew closer, illuminating the five wet red gashes running down Bow’s back. It was type of wound Catra was well familiar with, she’d far too often inflicted it herself.

“Claw marks?”

Next thing Catra knew, clawed fingers gripped tight about her ankle. She let out a sharp cry, before being dragged into the darkness.

“CATRA!?” Bow cried.

Melog pounced instinctively, only to be immobilized by an Apokoliptan shock-disc. Across the corridor, stood a dark diminutive figure, illuminated by the crimson glow of his Apokoliptan war-harness.

Catra was swung through the air like a ragdoll, slamming into the wall before slumping to the floor. Her vision was blurry as she looked up into the jade eyes of her assailant.

Growing up in the Fright Zone, Catra had been only dimly aware that other cat folk existed across Etheria. Most of them existed on the fringes of Etherian society, eeking out what life they could in the Crimson Wastes or sailing the Straits of Serpentine.

For the handful Catra had personally met, she couldn’t claim to feel any particular kinship. Unlike Adora, she’d never pined for her birth kin, never sought comfort in fantasies of her ‘real’ parents coming to rescue her from Shadow Weaver’s abuse. If they had wanted her, they wouldn’t have abandoned her to the Horde to begin with.

Still, under other circumstances, Catra might have found the eight-foot-tall cat-woman looming over her beautiful. Powerful steel-chord muscles rippled beneath spotted dusk orange fur, eyes gleaming like sharply cut emeralds above a suggestively fanged grin. The effect wouldn’t even have been spoiled by the pale x-shaped scar in her abdomen. What did spoil it was Bow’s blood dripping from the mystery felinoid’s hand.

“Mmmm…,” she purred, licking her wet claws. “Salty… with just a hint of sweetness.”

“Who… who are you?” Catra asked weakly.

“Lady Barbara Minerva,” the cat woman answered. “CEO of Minerva Acquisitions and High Priestess of Lord Urzkartaga, But you….”

Minerva brought her clawed foot down on Catra’s throat, slowly crushing her windpipe.

“Alley trash like you can call me ‘Ma’am’.”

Catra beat and clawed futilely at the crushing foot, but Minerva was too strong, too fast. As Catra’s vision began to blur, she realized that she’d never had a prayer.

“Enough!” spoke a new voice.

All eyes turned to the intruder, his face shadowed by a midnight-blue fedora, his form hidden in a cloak of the same hue.

Minerva momentarily let up the pressure, turning on the intruder.

“Who the bloody fuck are you?!”

 *

SMALLVILLE

October 10, 18:14 CDT

“Phantom Stranger?!” A shocked Superboy bolted up from the dinner table, swiftly followed by Kara, Adora and Miss Martian. “What are you doing here?

“Oh, thank Rao,” Kara muttered.

*

HALL OF JUSTICE

October 10, 19:14 EDT

“Stay behind me, Angelo!” Roy’s cybernetic arm shifted into particle-weapon mode, training it on the Phantom Stranger. “You have sixteen seconds to explain how the hell you got in here!?”

*

STAR CITY

October 10, 16:14 PDT

Minerva’s man-servant took aim at the Phantom Stranger with his war-harness, only for the Stranger to respond with a single word…

“Sleep.”

The manservant immediately keeled over into unconsciousness.

“Chuma!?” Minerva snarled, caution restraining her anger. “What… What do you want?”

*

SMALLVILLE

October 10, 18:15 CDT

“You must come with me,” intoned the Phantom Stranger.

*

NEW YORK

October 10, 19:15 EDT

“Not friggin’ likely!” Roy snorted.

*

STAR CITY

October 10, 16:16 PDT

SMALLVILLE

October 10, 18:16 CDT

NEW YORK

October 10, 19:16 EDT

Before his quarry could act, the Phantom Stranger threw open his midnight cloak, enveloping them in the total embrace of the void between worlds.

*

STRAITS OF SERPENTINE

October 10, 23:17 UCT

The HUD display in Devil Ray’s helm lit up as he hit the murky waters. He would have wondered how he ended up in his Manta armour, if his infra-red hadn’t picked up another human figure being tossed in the roiling waves.

“Roy!?”

Devil Ray cut through the surging waters like a torpedo. A moment later he broke the surface, a gasping Arsenal hooked under his arm.

“You okay, mate?” Devil Ray asked, voice masked by his helm’s booming speakers.

“Yeah, I think so…” Roy responded, hacking up a mouthful of sea-water. “Angelo? How long was I out? How’d you get into your armor?”

“Still a little fuzzy on that, myself,” admitted Devil Ray. “But I could ask you the same question?”

Arsenal glanced down, finding himself fully decked out in his own mask and uniform, waterlogged as it was. “Fair point, can you signal the Watchtower for a pick-up?”

“I… don’t think that’s gonna be an option, mate.” Devil Ray gazed up into the starry sky, where half a dozen moons sailed serenely overhead.

*

ETHERIA

October 10, 23:18 UCT

Superboy gazed up at the array of moons silently hanging over the jagged mountain range. “Definitely not in Kansas anymore.”

“I recognize this place. These are the Iron Mountains near Dryl, on Etheria,” said Kara. “I better reco-.”

The Krypteen thrust herself into the air, only to come tumbling down the stony slope into the bitter dust below.

“Kara?!” Superboy came skidding down the slope after her. “Are you okay?”

She recoiled from him. “Don’t touch me!?”

He threw his arm up placatingly. “Okay! Okay!”

“I… I can’t fly…” she muttered. “Why can’t I fly?”

Superboy glanced up. “That may be why.”

Kara followed his eye skyward. At first, she’d thought it merely another of Etheria’s moons. It was so hard to keep track of them all. But now that she really looked, there was no mistaking the dim crimson disk glaring down on her like the Eye of Rao Himself, shouldering with the light of a red sun.

*

WHISPERING WOODS

October 10, 23:19 UCT

Catra went tumbling through the scraping clawing branches. They tore at her skin, while also slowing her fall. Not that she felt particularly grateful as she finally hit the underbrush.

“Rrrrgh…” Every muscle in her body groaned as she tried to wrench herself upright. “I hate my life.”

“Good news then.”

Catra barely rolled out of the way as Minerva’s claws flashed a hair’s breadth from her eyes. The Etherian leaped to her feet, her own claws flexing.

“I’m ready for you this time!” Catra snarled. She and Minerva circled each other like rival predators, each waiting for the other to drop their guard if only for a split-second.

“Oh please, child. You can barely stand, much less fight…” Minerva tensed, ready to pounce. “While I’m fresh and ready to-”

TWAAAK!!!

Catra never learned exactly what Minerva was ready to do as a coiled tree branch suddenly sprung, smacking the Earthling felinoid right in the face and splaying her insensate on the forest floor.

Bow and Melog deglamored. The master-archer winced as his feet wavered beneath him. He would have fallen completely, had Catra not caught him.

“Easy,” she soothed. “Looks like you lost a lot of blood.”

“I… I’ll be fine…” he panted. “I just ne-”

“Over here!” a new voice rang through the woods, harsh and imperious. “Bring the sniffer! Might be more runaways!”

“They don’t sound friendly,” whispered Bow.

“Mel, glam us,” hissed Catra.

The fey’s response was immediate, veiling themself, Catra and Bow from sight. The three crept silently through the undergrowth, as swiftly as they dared until all sound of pursuit finally died down behind them.

“It’s okay,” Catra panted. “I think we lost the-”

Snap!

The three of them only had a moment to cry out before they were caught up in a swooping net.

*

Barbara Minerva nearly gagged at the stench invading her nostrils, like cold rancid meat, shocking her back to consciousness. Her eyes snapped open, only to be greeted by a maw of needle-like teeth, strips of rotting flesh hanging from scaled lips.

The lizard creature was rotund with pinkish-red scales, a greenish tongue lolling hungrily. A heavy steel collar tight about its thick neck.

“Raaagh!” Barbara tried to scrabble back, only to find her wrists and neck already bound by heavy manacles and her body reverted to human form.

The lizard hissed as it tried to lunge after her, only to be yanked back by the heavy chain attached to its collar.

“Down, Seker!”

The speaker’s voice was rasping and harsh. She was a muscular, green-scaled ophidian humanoid with thick constrictor-like arms. In a clawed hand, she held the other end of the lizard-hound’s chain taut.

“What we got here, Snake Face?” she jeered.

“Looks to me like another wayward citizen, Sssqueeze,” answered a second snake-woman, hooded, slender and wearing a featureless porcelain mask. “Trying to shirk her civic duties.”

“Snake Face’? ‘Sssqueeze’?” Barbara snorted. “My, we really are running out of silly names to call ourselves, aren’t we?”

Snake Face clicked a small remote in her scaled fingers, sending a shock of electric agony surging thru the collar around Barbara’s neck. Barbara buckled to the dirt, panting heavily.

“I don’t know who you reptiles are… but you have no idea who you’re dealing with,” Barbara gritted her teeth as she reached down into that deep bestial part of every human soul, calling on the Blood God, calling on Him to fill her with His rage.

Nothing happened.

The snake-woman called Sssqueeze folded her thick arms nonchalantly. “Ya done?”

“I… don’t understand,” Barbara muttered. “Why didn’t Lord Urzkartaga…”

She reached for the heavy weight clamped about her neck, finally recognizing it for what it was.

“An inhibitor collar?”

“Enough drama,” snapped Snake Face, roughly shoving Barbara. “On your feet, Citizen.”

Barbara choked down her rage. ‘Snake Face’ and ‘Sssqueeze’, she bitterly committed her captor’s names and appearance to memory. “Where are we going?”

“We’re taking you to make your contribution the Lord Eclipso’s Great Work, Citizen,” rasped Sssqueeze mockingly, scaled lips twisting into a cruel leer.

“You’re going to Dark Moon.”

Chapter Text

CASTLE DARK MOON

October 11, 20:21 UCT

“One thousand years ago…

“Mara, She-Ra of Etheria, sacrificed herself to cast Etheria into the shadow realm of Despondos, preventing her masters from abusing the power at its Heart. In that moment, she had unwittingly tipped the delicate Balance between Order and Chaos in this galaxy.

“Cut off-from the material plane, Etheria descended into a state of anarchy as Princess warred against Princess. Amid such havoc, the Heart of Etheria was far too potent a weapon to leave unguarded.

“Though the Lords of Order are loath to incarnate in corporeal form as those of Chaos are wont to do, there are yet some tasks too great to entrust to any mortal agent. Thus was one of the lower Principalities of the Host of Law veiled in flesh…

“Assuming the form of an angelic queen.”

*

“On your belly, warm-blood!”

The Snake Trooper roughly threw Barbara Minerva to the throne room’s floor. She tried to rise only to have her face pressed into the cold black marble by a scaled foot.

“Filthy lizard!” Barbara snarled.

That earned her another shock of electric agony; muscles forcibly, painfully contracting against her will. She wordlessly cursed the heavy inhibitor collar clamped about her neck. If not for that, she could easily have skinned the impudent reptile.

“Enough.”

The new voice was cold and dark, ancient as the void between the stars. But also paradoxically light, almost young. It was more like two voices, utterly unlike yet inseparably entwined. Barbara couldn’t see the speaker from her prone position.

“Whoever you are, you have no idea who you're dealing with,” she snapped. “Release me this instant or the consequences will be-”

“You’ll speak when spoken to, primate!” snapped the Snake Trooper, cutting Barbara off with the butt of a stun baton.

“She will not be required to speak at all,” spoke the old/young voice. “Ma'alefa'ak.”

Something approached Barbara’s pinned form, clawed feet lightly tap-tapping along the black marble. Her heart-caught in her throat as an ash-white face, stretched across a bare skull, lowered itself into her field of vision. Its hard yellow eyes met hers.

<I would advise you not to resist,> the alien’s voice echoed in her very mind. <For your own sake.>

Something slithered into her thoughts, like oily unclean tendrils.

Tyger Tyger, burning bright…

All high-ranking Leviathan operatives had some training in resisting telepathic scans: compartmentalized mind palaces, memetic mantras designed to camouflage sensitive thoughts under meaningless static.

In the forests of the night…

Barbara knew they were only stalling tactics at best, designed under the assumption that the interrogator wouldn’t risk permanent damage to the subject’s mind.

What immortal hand or eye…

<I warned you not to resist.>

The oily tendrils became whips of burning flame, searing away the layers of Barbara's consciousness until…

All at once, she was a child again; kneeling with her mother before a bloodstained altar, a young woman; standing over her father’s mauled corpse, a frenzied avatar of the Blood God; falling upon a spike of sharpened steel rebar in a Parisian construction site. Memory after memory crashed over her, threatening to drown her ego in a tidal wave of mnemonic overload.

Then… it stopped.

Barbara collapsed upon the chilled floor. It took all her discipline, all her pride, not to begin sobbing uncontrollably on the ebon marble.

“Well?” inquired the unseen voice.

<Her name is Barbara Ann Minerva, my Lord,> answered the alien, broadcasting his thoughts freely. <She’s an Earther, one of their self-styled ‘super-villains’.>

“What is she doing on Etheria?”

<She was transported here against her will by... a stranger?> the alien’s thoughts wavered, unsure. <His image in her memory is hazy, some sort of low level perception filter perhaps. But I know she didn’t come here alone. She came with the ones you call Catra… and Bow.>

 “Bow?”

<She was locked in battle with the Etherians when the stranger abducted the three of them.>

After a long silence, the Snake Trooper finally cleared her throat. “So… um, what do you want me to do with her?”

“Throw her in the slave pen.”

“Wait!” Barbara pleaded desperately. “You want the alley cat? I can hunt her down for you!”

<She does have certain skills.>

Another long silence.

“Barbara Ann Minerva of Earth… rise.”

The scaled foot on the back of Barbara’s neck finally relented, allowing her to rise to her knees and take in her surroundings for the first time.

The entire throne room was carved from the same black marble, ebon pillars inset with glowing violet gems whose pale eldritch light only accented the dim twilight. Serpentine warriors in sable armor stood silent guard around the chamber's perimeter. At the apex of the shadowed hall floated a jagged onyx throne, hovering unsupported in the violet-tinged gloom.

Barbara kept her expression neutral as she finally saw the figure sitting upon the black throne. Her first impression was of some purple-haired teenaged wannabe Marxist with make-believe pronouns. She almost snorted aloud.

That was before she saw the eyes; orbs of pure solid black, like pools of Old Night. Barbara suddenly didn’t feel like laughing anymore. The Darkling Queen’s skin was a pallid moon-white, save for a mauve shadow that bisected her face. She cast her cloak of iridescent raven feathers back to raise a single hand.

The inhibitor collar and iron manacles binding Barbara suddenly popped loose, clattering to the purple-veined marble with a hollow echo. She rubbed her chaffed neck gingerly, before rounding on her guard, lips curling in distaste as a low growl rose from somewhere deep in her throat. The Snake Trooper recoiled slightly.

“Peace,” commanded the Darkling Queen as she descended from her floating throne, stepping upon empty air.

Barbara instantly curtseyed, aristocratic training taking over from animal instinct… for now.

“Forgive me, Lord…?”

“You may address us as Lord Eclipso,” intoned the Darkling Queen.

“I am yours to command, Lord Eclipso.”

“Then rejoice, Barbara Ann Minerva, for you have chosen willingly to join our Great Work.”

Barbara cocked a bemused eyebrow. “And what exactly would that be, if I may be so bold, my Lord?”

“Simple,” Lord Eclipso smiled without a hint of joy or warmth. “We are going to save the universe.”

*

THE WATCHTOWER

October 11, 16:32 EDT

“Stay behind me, Angelo!” Roy’s cybernetic arm shifted into particle-weapon mode, training it on a seemingly empty spot. “You have sixteen seconds to explain how the hell you got in here?!”

“Not friggin’ likely!” Roy snorted, in response to seemingly no one.

The image wavered briefly as Roy Harper and Angelo del Rey disappeared completely, leaving only the flickering image of the empty library in the Hall of Justice.

“Pause playback.”

Tigress examined the time-stamp on the frozen holo-screen. “Nineteen-Sixteen hours, Eastern Daylight Time.”

“The exact same moment the Phantom Stranger abducted Conner and Kara in Smallville,” spoke Miss Martian with concern.

“And the around the same time Catra, Bow and Melog vanished in Star City,” added Adora. “That can’t be a coincidence?”

“Hardly,” said Tigress.

“But why?” Adora blurted. “Who is this guy? Why kidnap our friends?”

“Where the Phantom Stranger’s concerned, ‘who’ and ‘why’ are always a bit… fuzzy,” said Miss Martian. “Of all the times for Zatanna to be off-world, she's had the most experience with him.”

“Well, there must be something we can do?” Adora protested.

“There are a few leads we can try,” answered Tigress. “But right now, all we can do is wait… and hope.”

Adora’s gaze wondered to the Watchtower’s panoramic window, where Earth’s sole moon hung in the lonely black.

“Please, Catra… be okay.”

*

WHISPERING WOODS

October 11, 20:52 UCT

“Ow!” Catra yelped as something sharp jabbed into the small of her back, causing her to nearly trip in the forest undergrowth. “Watch it!”

“Walk faster, Biggun!” snapped a shrill unseen voice

“I’d walk faster if you took this stupid sack of my head,” she muttered in the stifling darkness.

That earned her another jab.

“I really wish you’d stop antagonizing them,” spoke Bow’s muffled voice somewhere to her right.

“And I wish you’d antagonize them more!” Catra snapped back.

Neither of them had laid eyes on their shrill-voiced captors since they’d been captured last night. They’d spent the whole day being force marched through the winding paths of the Whispering Woods. Catra had long since given up trying to cut through the thick vine-cords that bound her wrists.

“How’s your friend doing?” Catra asked quietly. She didn’t need to clarify she was referring to ‘Relay’, the Apokoliptan Fatherbox that Bow had ‘adopted’ back on the hellish fortress-world.

“I don’t know, I lost him when we got snapped up in that net.” Bow sighed. “I hope he’s okay, he was in pretty bad shape.”

He didn’t need to clarify either. Catra had been there when the living computer was nearly killed in their first skirmish with the were-cheetah Minerva.

Catra couldn’t claim to really understand New God ‘life-tech’, but she knew enough to realize that Motherboxes and Fatherboxes where more than mere machines. They were living entities, conscious and self-aware. They could think and feel, feel pain and fear. They could die.

She thought of Melog. Their captors had refused to answer when she asked them what became of her feyline familiar.

Catra cocked her ears, she picked up the tell-tale crackle well before she felt the prickling warmth of a campfire.

“Down! Down!” snapped the shrill voice before bopping Catra over the head with a heavy stick.

“OW! Alright, alright!”

Catra squatted in the dirt, back-to-back with Bow, as their captor’s looped ever more thick vines about their arms and ankles. Something roughly yanked the heavy sack from her head, nearly twisting her neck in the process. She blinked, watery eyes adjusting to the dim firelight, before the faces of their captors finally resolved in her vision.

Not one of them was over three-foot tall. Clad in garments of sown leaves, their skin-tones ranged anywhere from a pale pastel pink to a deep midnight purple. Most striking were their eyes, over-sized amber orbs; gaping wide as though to soak in every drop of light in the forest gloom.

“What the fuuuuck?” Catra whispered.

“You’ll keep a civil tongue, biggun!” snapped their leader, a shrill-voiced Elder with a sour sneer permanently etched on his long wrinkled face. “Or ye won’t keep it at all, heh-heh.”

“Ohmigosh…” Bow gasped in quiet awe. “You’re Twiggets!?”

“Twhats?!” Catra blurted.

“You know… forest folk, tree sprites?” Bow continued. “My dads used to tell me stories about them, but I never thought they were real!”

“Aye, and that’s the way we woulda kept it!” snarled the Twigget Elder. “If ye bigguns hadn’t kept tromping through the Woods, bringing yer wars and yer machines, burning and killing all the whiles!”

A wave of nods and murmurs rolled through the Twigget crowd.

“But that was the Horde!” Bow protested.

“Way to throw me under the bus,” Catra muttered.

“You know what I mean!”

“It doesn’t matter!” snapped the Elder. “All ye bigguns are the same!”

“Enough of this Wizard of Oz carp!” snapped Catra. “What’ve you done with Melog?!”

“Wizard? Where?” Bow murmured.

“Ye mean yer beastie?” The Elder hefted up his staff. It was topped with a smattering of charms and talismans, including a small bottle of tempered glass. Shimmering blue and violet light swirled within in a seemingly frantic frenzy.

“MEL!?” Catra snarled, as much in shock as anger.

“Typical bigguns, ye think yer high ‘n mighty sorcerers ‘n princesses are the only ones who ken any bit o’ magic.” The Elder drew back his staff. “Sprocker!”

The mass of Twiggets parted to revel a figure no taller than any of them, but she made of for it in sheer broadness of shoulder. ‘Sprocker’ had the build of a tree-stump and, judging by the expression on her face, the disposition to match.

“Take ‘em away!” the Elder shrilled.

“Hey, hey! Watch it!” Catra trashed as the Twigget heavy dragged her and Bow from the circle of firelight and into the dark of the deep forest.

*

Spiritina padded her way softly through the lush undergrowth that camouflaged the edges of the village, clutching her package close. Like all Twiggets, evolution had molded every aspect of her mind and body for perfect stealth beneath the forest canopy. Still, she was young. Her movements would have been as silent as a rock to the ears of one of the ‘bigguns’. To the fan-like ears of another twigget on the other hand…

“And where are yer going?”

Spiritina turned on her heels, suddenly confronted by the long scowling face.

“Elder Sprag!?” Spiritina blurted, trying to look casual as she slipped the package behind her back. “Oh hail! Um… what brings ye outside the village?”

“I could ask ye the same question, bairne.” Sprag pointed with his staff, the glass bottle imprisoning the alien fey jangling from the tip like an angry bauble. “What be that?”

“What be what?!” Spiritina stared over her shoulder in feigned apprehension, as though expecting some beast to pounce from the undergrowth.

Sprag’s scowl deepened in annoyance. “I mean what ye be hiding behind yer back, bairne?”

“Oh… ummm… nothing!” Spiritina grinned widely, rocking on her heels.

Sprag’s scowl tightened.

“Oh! Ye mean this?” Spiritina finally admitted, producing an over-sized hollowed gourd from behind her back.

“Why de ye have a…” Sprag shook his head in exasperation. “Och, never mind! I’ve no time for yer nonsense right now. Just be back before the next moonrise.”

“Thank ye, Elder,” Spiritina bowed low before dashing off into the undergrowth.

“Ruddy bairnes,” Sprag sighed, turning back to the village. “There’s no kenning them.”

*

Spiritina paused about two furlongs outside the village, holding the over-sized gourd close to her chest. She stood upright on her hind paws, tail held straight, arching her fanlike ears this way, now that way.

Even amidst the omnipresent murmur of the Whispering Woods, she could pick out the sounds of the forest folk. Far above her head, a pair of Scracklebirds were fluttering about each other in an intricate dance, ready to consummate a long courtship. About a hundred paces away, a unilope was scratching her single long antler against the tree bark, a warning to all rivals. Deep below, a moornik was contentedly snoring in his burrow, belly full from last night’s hunt.

What Spiritina did not make out was the thumping careless tromping of the bigguns nor the stealthy foot pad of her own kind, not that the latter necessarily proved anything. It would have to be enough.

She pulled back a veil of vines to reveal the burnt-out husk of a Horde Destructo-Tank. The alien war-machine’s rusted grey-green chassis was like the carcass of some giant predatory beetle, staining the earth with death. She pulled back, hackles raising.

T-i-i-i-ng . . .

“I know, I know,” whispered Spiritina soothingly, patting the gourd as she plucked up her courage before descending into the tank’s shadowed hatch. The interior was cramped and dark, reeking with the acrid tang of oxidized copper and battery acid.

“Alright, we’re here.”

The illusion of the gourd suddenly wavered, revealing a half melted metal box, dully glowing wires dangling from its cracked casing. Spiritina didn’t fully understand exactly what her new friend was, but she knew he was in pain. That was enough.

“Will this do?”

T-i-i-i-i-i-ng . . .

The metal box suddenly jumped out of Spiritina’s hand, dangling wires leaping to life as they pulled circuity, gears and armor plating from the surrounding walls. The young Twigget watched in amazement as the mismatched scrap coalesced around her new friend into something – to her eyes – very much like a steel cocoon.

*

IRON MOUNTAINS

October 13, 16:32 UCT

Kara Zor-El couldn’t remember the last time her body ached this much. Four decades of disembodied existence in the Phantom Zone, followed by another year of yellow sunlight enhanced invulnerability, had made physical pain a distant memory. Now, under the light of the smoldering red disc that had recently joined Etheria’s moon-studded sky, pain was suddenly that annoying acquaintance who really insisted on making up for lost time.

“Rao dammit!” The Kryptonian teen swore as she scraped a knee along the rough purplish cliff-face she was currently scaling. That was two for two.

“Need a hand?” Superboy reaching down from the rocky ledge just up a head. His eponymously boyish face was just as scuffed and scrapped as her own.

Don’t be stupid, Zor-El, Kara internally chided herself, taking the proffered hand as Superboy hauled her over the flinty ledge. It opened out into a narrow road, winding up the mountain. Thank merciful Rao.

Kara took advantage of the reprieve to slump to the ground, propping her back against the opposite cliff-face. Her muscles stung, her lungs burned. She was tired, cold and bleeding.

“Thanks,” she panted.

“No problem,” answered Superboy, sitting beside her. “Just wish that avalanche hadn’t cut off the lower road. Would have saved us the climb. I thought you said it wasn’t far to Dryl?”

“It’s not if you can fly.”

“Heh, fair ‘nuff.” Superboy closed his eyes and began breathing deeply, taking a moment to re-center himself.

“Sorry, by the way,” offered Kara.

“For what?”

“Taking the Name in vain.”

“Oh that,” Superboy chuckled, waving her off. “Don’t sweat it, I’m an atheist.”

“Oh, Dad would have loooved that,” scoffed Kara.

Superboy opened a single eye at that. “What was he like? Uncle Zor-El, I mean. I know he was the Kryptonian Chief Examiner, kinda like an Attorney General for the whole planet, right?”

“I guess? I don’t know, I never paid much attention to all that political stuff.”

“Okay, how about family stuff? What was he like as a father?”

“Great. He was great.” Kara drew her knees in, wrapping her arms tight about herself, pulling into herself. “The best.”

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it. I got a complicated relationship with my…” Superboy hesitated, searching for a better word before begrudgingly giving in. “Father.”

“You have a dad?” Kara blurted before her brain caught up with her mouth. “Wait, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have asked-”

“It’s okay. Genetic donor technically. I was created using hybridized DNA from Kal-El and a human named Lex Luthor. Though in my more uncharitable moments I think calling that man ‘human’ is being overly generous.”

Kara was taken aback by his sudden vehemence. “Wow… that bad, huh?”

“You have no idea.”

Kara was quiet for a long moment.

“Superbo- Kon-El, I need to be honest with you about something, about why I’ve been so weird around you.”

Both his eyes opened now, giving her his full attention. “Okay?”

Kara’s face went almost as red as Rao Himself. “How much do you know about… clones, on Krypton?”

“A bit, Kal’s rocket included a database on Kryptonian history and culture,” he answered matter-of-factly. “I know when cloning technology was first developed on Krypton, clones were basically treated like chattel, living organ banks. It wasn’t until after the Black Zero Riots of 9916 A.R. that they were granted even basic legal protections.”

“Back just before the Eye of Rao went nova, things for cloned citizens were… better, I guess.” Kara steeled herself for this next part. “But my dad was a… Traditionalist. He was afraid if they weren’t ‘curtailed’, clones would eventually replace rea- I mean… natural-born Kryptonians.”

Kon-El eyes narrowed, his voice carefully measured. “I see.”

“I’m so sorry, I know I shouldn’t just unload my bullshit on top of you,” Kara looked downcast. “I just… always thought I’d be better than him.”

“Look, Kara, you’re only fifteen,” said Kon-El sympathetically. “None of us make it out of our formative years without some unexamined prejudice. Hell, I got mine literally programmed into me.  But it takes a lot of courage to own up to-” His head cocked, voice dropping into a low whisper. “You hear that?”

Kara heard nothing, she’d been practically deaf since arriving back on Etheria. “Hear wha-”

Superboy’s gaze snapped upwards. “Heads up!”

Kara followed Superboy’s gaze upward as they both leaped to their feet. Half a dozen hooded figures were rapidly abseiling down the cliff-face, charged stun-staffs slung over their shoulders.

“Bandits?!” Kara blurted.

“Move!” Superboy cried as he and Kara made a break for it, only to find the path ahead to find to path ahead blocked by yet three more hooded bandits.

“Halt, in the name of-” spoke the lankiest of the bandits shrilly, before Superboy decked him with an uppercut.

No sooner had the Boy of Steel’s fist connected than another bandit pounced on him with and animalistic snarl, tackling him to the ground.

“KON?!” Kara cried before a third bandit tackled her from behind, retraining her in a head-lock.

Superboy struggled under the pinning weight of his attacker, managing to rip back their hood.

“Oh carp.”

A shudder of revulsion went through Superboy’s body as he found himself face to ‘face’ with a fanged reptilian snout. It snapped viciously, drawing ever closer.

“Rogelio, hold!”

The voice was cold and imperious, freezing the attackers in their place. They parted in obvious deference to a new figure, tall, slender, carrying himself as one accustomed to command. His face was shadowed behind a heavy hood. He paused for a moment over the still prone lanky bandit that Superboy had originally decked.

“Seriously, Kyle?” he drawled with pained exasperation.

“Who the Hell are you!?” Superboy demanded, still pinned by the lizard-man.

Something blue scurried up the bandit chief’s slender form, coming to rest on his shoulder; a demonic cherub with tiny devil wings and impish yellow eyes.

The bandit chief pulled back his hood, revealing a bone-white face with distinctly Chiropteran features, a short stripe of purple hair running down his otherwise bare skull.

“I am Hordak,” he intoned imperiously. “Leader of the Great Rebellion.”

*

THE DRAGON’S DAUGHTER…VII? MAYBE VIII?

October 13, 22:08 UCT

“Farewell and adieu, to you Salinean boys!

Farewell and adieu, to you laddies of Salineas!

For we received orders for to sail for Seaworthy!

But we hope to see you again, you lads gregarious!”

The warbling tones reverberated throughout the small vessel, even down to the tiny, darkened bunk were Roy Harper lay with a pillow over his head. His sable domino mask did little to hide the grey bags under his eyes.

“That’s it,” Roy snarled, tossing the pillow aside as he bolted upright. “I’m gonna murder him.”

Angelo del Rey looked up from his own bunk, where he sat polishing the pouldron of his Manta-armor. “He did fish us out of the sea, Roy?”

“Yeah, and subjected us to three days and nights of non-stop sea shanties!” Roy stormed up the short ladder, bursting onto the deck only to find their warbling rescuer hanging upside down from the mast

“We'll rant and we'll roar like true worthy sailors!

We'll rant and we'll roar ‘cross the Growling Sea!

Until we strike soundings in the channel of-”

The man called ‘Sea Hawk’ stopped, suddenly chagrined as he dangled haplessly upside down, feet hopelessly knotted in thick ropes, mustache drooping. “Ah, hello, lads! I didn’t realize you were still up.” He pointed up sheepishly. “Um, could you…?”

Roy shifted his cybernetic arm into its laser configuration before cutting through the Gordian knot about Sea Hawk’s ankles, sending the Etherian sailor thudding intro the deck.

“I’m okay!”

“Hey, Sea Hawk, I’ve been meaning to ask,” said Angelo, helping the sailor to his feet. “How come you speak English?”

Sea Hawk blinked. “Speak whatnow?”

“The Stranger probably hit us with some kind of translation spell before dumping us here. I’ve seen Kaldur do it,” answered Roy, looking of over the roiling waves of the purple-green sea.  “The real question is, what does he expect us to do about it?”

“Fear not, old chums!” Sea Hawk enthused, throwing an amiable arm about each of his new ship-mates. ‘Once we reach Salineas, I and my girlfriend, Princess Mermista, will lead the people in glorious revolution against the foul tyrant of Dark Moon!”

“Can’t wait.” Roy crinkled his nose, removing Sea Hawk’s arm.

“Uh, Sea Hawk,” Angelo spoke hesitantly, leaning over the ship’s prow. “You might wanna brace yerself, mate.”

“Brace myself for wha…” Sea Hawk’s face went pale at the sight that greeted him. “Sweet Lady of the Sea!”

Rising out of the turgid waves rose a great coral gate, or what was left of it; stark and broken. Beyond the gate lay a still and barren city, silent save for the cold sea-wind that whistled through its empty streets.

“I take it this is Salineas?” Roy sighed.

Sea Hawk nodded mutely, rendered speechless for the first time in his life.

“I’m so sorry, Sea Hawk,” Angelo offered weakly.

“Don’t suppose you had a Plan B?” Roy asked.

*

THE CRYPTO-CASTLE, DRYL

October 13, 22:16 UCT

Calling the Crypto-Castle a maze was like calling Sphere’s Super-Cycle mode a tricycle; true only in the most trivial sense of the word. At least in a maze, the corridors didn’t shift, flip upside down, or literally disassemble and reassemble themselves without rhyme, reason or even warning.

“How do you even navigate this?” Conner grimaced, as the narrow purple-lit hallway he, Kara and their ‘hosts’ were currently traversing abruptly warped itself into a u-turn.

“My species possesses a rather finely honed sense of direction,” answered Hordak. “Frankly, it’s not much different than navigating Horde Prime’s flagship.”

“Why here though?”

“The Crypto-Castle’s unique nature makes it virtually impenetrable to enemy forces, an ideal staging ground for the Great Rebellion.”

The former Horde Lord tensed noticeably as they passed a portrait of a young girl in oversized purple pigtails, flanked by two robotic figures that could only be meant to be her parents. His crimson eyes scrupulously avoided the image, taloned finger absently reaching for the pink crystal circuitry embedded in the gorget of his exo-armor.

Conner suspected Hordak’s reasons for picking Dryl as his base of operations weren’t purely strategic. “What about the other Etherian Princesses’? Aren’t they part of this ‘Rebellion’ of yours?”

“The Princesses are gone,” Hordak retorted curtly. “Dark Moon’s forces overran their kingdoms within weeks.”

“Are you serious?” Kara blurted. “The Princesses were the most powerful beings on the planet, and you’re gonna fight off Eclipso with a bunch of geeks!? No offence.”

“None taken,” replied the lanky youth Conner had decked earlier, still nursing his jaw.

“Sorry about that, um… Kyle, was it?” Conner asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” Kyle sighed resignedly. “I’m used to it.”

Rogelio, the burly lizard-man from before, wrapped a protective arm around the lad, all while shooting Conner a dirty look.

“Seriously, guys, could you not embarrass us in front of the alien super people?” spoke the stout dark-skinned girl called ‘Lonnie’

“Not so super with that red sun in the sky,” muttered Kara.

Lonnie’s brow furrowed. “What’s a ‘sun’?”

“I think she means that creepy new moon,” said Kyle. “You know, the one that hurts your eyes if you stare at it too long.”

“I keep telling ya not to do that!” Lonnie chided.

“It’s not technically a moon,” Kara corrected. “It’s actually a giant ball of flaming gas.”

“What difference does that make?” asked Lonnie.

“It doesn’t move around your planet like a moon does, you move around it.”

“That makes no sense,” Kyle protested. “If Etheria was moving, we’d all fall off.”

Kara shook her head. “No, you see-”

“Don’t bother, child,” Hordak cut in with a long suffering sigh. “I’ve already tried explaining. I’m afraid Etherians have a rather… constricted view of the cosmos. Most Etherians at any rate.”

“Speaking of, Hordak,” replied Conner, playing a hunch. “Could you show us a chart of the star system Eclipso transported Etheria to?”

“I believe so,” answered Hodark uncertainly.

They came to what looked like a dead end. Hordak and his rebels didn’t even hesitate as the blank wall before them unfurled like the petals of an iron rose, revealing a vast makeshift command center. Over a dozen figures were scattered across the chamber, huddled over tactical read-outs, repairing weaponry, or carrying reports from one workstation to another.

Each and every one bore Hordak’s face. Each and every one was a clone.

Conner leaned towards Kara, his voice low. “You cool?”

“Yeah, I’m cool,” Kara replied. “Are… are we cool?”

Conner smiled. “Yeah, we cool.”

She smiled.

“Zed!” Hordak spoke, summoning another Horde clone to his side.

‘Zed’ may have looked near identical to Hordak but all resemblance ended when he opened his mouth. “Yes, brother?” he asked in a high, nasally pitch, a sharp contrast to Hordak’s own low gravel.

“Our new recruits have a request,” Hordak explained. “They wish to examine a chart of our current star system.”

“I’m sorry, ‘recruits’?” Conner asked.

Hordak turned to face Conner. “You have somewhere better to be?”

“Respectfully, Hordak, we didn’t come here to get mixed up in someone else’s war,” replied Conner.

“Respectfully, Superboy, speak for yourself,” retorted Kara.

“Kara?”

“Look, Kon, I get if you don’t want to get involved, but Etheria’s the closest thing to a home I have left in this galaxy. It’s the first place that I’ve ever felt… safe,” spoke Kara with soft steel. “This is my war.”

Conner hesitated, unsure how to respond.

“What’s the matter, Superrunt?” chuckled a bitter rasping voice.

Conner recognized the voice all too well. Bile rose in his throat as he whipped round to face the hulking trollish figure that came lumbering out of the shadows.

“Looking for an excuse to run away with your tail between your legs,” the newcomer sneered through oversized tusk-like teeth, his broad toadish leer framed by an unkempt dark-brown mane.

“KALIBAK!?!” Conner roared, ready to practically hurl himself at the Son of Darkseid.

Kara threw herself in front of him. “Whoa, Kon, chill!”

“Chill!?” Conner snarled. “Do you have any idea the atrocities this… animal has had a hand in?!”

“Yeah, I do,” Kara answered levelly. “I was one of Darkseid’s Furies, remember? I’ve got my fair share of blood on my hands.”

“We all have,” Hordak interjected somberly, stepping between Kalibak and the Kryptonians. “Look around you, Superboy. Almost everyone here is a former member of the Horde. None of our hands are clean, but at least now we have an opportunity to pay some small reparation for the harm we inflicted on this world.”

“That was different! You were clones, like me, programmed to worship Horde Prime the way I was to serve the Light. Kara, your mind was already turned inside out from forty years in the Phantom Zone even before Granny got her hooks into it. None of you knew what you were doing.” Conner’s eyes bore into the Apokoliptan. “But I this butcher slaughtered his way through half a city on Rann. I saw the bodies of children, broken and dying while this filth laughed. He knew what he was doing. There’s no ‘reparation’ for that.”

Kalibak did something Conner would never have unexpected from the Son of Darkseid. He looked away from half-Kryptonian’s accusing gaze, face grimacing, body tensing as though struggling with some passion he couldn’t understand. If Conner hadn’t known the Apokoliptan berserker better, he’d almost suspect it was shame.

“Perhaps you are right, Superboy” Hordak conceded. “Perhaps there are some sins that can never be atoned for. But that does not relieve us of the obligation to try. Regardless, I will not allow any past vendettas to jeopardize the Rebellion’s mission,” he shot a sharp glance at Kalibak. “Am I understood?”

Kalibak folded his arms like a surly toddler. “Don’t worry, brother. I’ll behave myself.”

“Kon,” Kara spoke softly. “Moral dilemmas aside, I really need you not to start a brawl with a New God while we’re under a red sun, okay?”

“Fine,” Conner grumbled, still glaring at Kalibak.

“Brother?” Zed interjected, waving Hordak and the two Kryptonians over to his display console. “This is a representation of our current star system, correlated from scans taken by the Crypto-Castle’s automated observatory.”

The green-tinted screen depicted a bloated red giant, smoldering at the center of a desolate black field. Etheria was a pale pink dot, drifting on the outer edges of the infinite night, far beyond the even the ancient star’s broad habitable zone. If not for the light of her own mystically charged moons, Etheria would have quickly frozen to death. The only other major planetoids were a massive green gas-giant and a dull brown speck well within the red giant’s ‘Goldilocks Zone’.

“Can you zoom in on that planet?” Conner asked.

“Of course,” replied Zed, swiftly magnifying the image.

The alien orb was dominated by a single vast sandy brown continent, surrounded by a blood red sea.

“That looks almost like…” Superboy’s eyes went wide. “How close is the nearest yellow sun?”

“One moment,” Zed consulted his console. “Approximately eighty-eight-point-six standard light-years.”

Conner whistled low. “Freaking astrous.”

“Kon?” Kara asked.

“If I’m right, that’s the planet Trombus. Which means we’re in the Gamma Crucis system, just under ninety light-years from Sol.”

“But that means…”

“All this time, Eclipso’s been hiding Etheria practically in Earth’s backyard,” Conner turned to Hordak. “Do you have any FTL comms?”

“Not at hand,” Hordak replied thoughtfully. “But it should be possible to reconfigure the observatory into a rudimentary subspace ansible.”

“Then maybe we can help each other after all.”

*

CASTLE DARK MOON

October 13, 23:59 UCT

“Over the centuries, the Angel Queen had painstakingly knit the feuding Princesses of Etheria into a tenuous Alliance with herself first among equals, in name at least. Though they rarely co-operated, the princesses of the new Alliance begrudgingly tolerated each other. It would do, thought the Angel Queen.

“Until one day, when a young mage arrived at her court. With him he brought a dire warning, of brutal invaders wielding weapons unlike anything Etheria seen since the days of the First Ones. They called themselves ‘the Horde’.

“In the years that followed, the Queen and the Mage worked together to turn the patchwork Princess Alliance into a force capable of resisting the Horde’s onslaught. It was in the crucible of this war that the Angel Queen fell into temptation. Surrounded by hate and death on all sides, she committed a sin unforgivable to the Lords of Order…

“She fell in love.”

*

Entrapta couldn’t feel her hair.

That would have struck most as an odd - if not bizarre - complaint for someone in her position, trudging through shadowed halls, wrists and ankles manacled in heavy chains, flanked by two of Dark Moon’s silent Serpent Guard. But what really suffocated was the dead-weight of her purple tresses dragging along behind her, rendered numb by the heavy inhibitor collar clamped about her stiff neck.

Once, when Entrapta was young, she’d sat down and counted every last hair on her head. It had taken her the better part of a month but it she’d arrived at a rough estimate of 195,816, give or take a few strands. Each strand had more tensile strength then a steel cable yet was thinner than a thread of silk, strong enough to bend an iron girder yet sensitive enough to realign nano-circuitry.

She never realized how much she’d taken her gifts for granted until now.

Her brooding was broken by one of the Serpent Guard wordlessly shoving her through an onyx archway. Entrapta found herself in an open courtyard under a desolate sky.

She vaguely recognized it as having once been Bright Moon’s royal gardens. But now, every living growing thing had been brutally stripped away, rich soil replaced by barren black sand.

Where once elder trees had swayed, now jutted giant shards of purple crystal. It was only when Entrapta passed the nearest crystal that she noticed the face suspended within, a broad normally smiling visage now frozen in uncomprehending horror

“Scorpia?!”

Entrapta glanced about… Mermista, Frosta, Perfuma; virtually every major princess of Etheria was entombed within purple crystal, like flies in amber, along with Netossa, Spinwit and half the mage council of Mysticor.

“Beautiful, are they not?”

The Lord of Dark Moon stood before the crystalized form of King Micah, cloaked in darkly iridescent raven feathers.

“Glimmer...? What did you do to them?”

The thing that turned to face Entrapta wore Glimmer’s face, but what stared out from ink-black orbs was certainly not Glimmer. It smiled with cold amusement.

“We have saved them, little tinkerer,” the creature that called itself ‘Lord Eclipso’ spoke with slow condescension, as though to a child. “Preserved them against the ravages of time, entropy and Death. As we soon shall for all Creation… provided you complete your contribution to our Great Work.”

“No.”

The Darkling Queen’s smile fell, twisting into a scowl no less cold. “Pardon?”

“It’s insane! Please, if you have Glimmer’s memories then you know what will happen if you if you activate th-” Entrapta’s pleas were cut-off by dark purple crystal suddenly erupting from the ground beneath her, rapidly enveloping her, crushing tighter with every exhale.

Unlight gathered about Eclipso’s form like a second cloak as she hovered above Entrapta. The Darkling Queen’s voice dropped to an abyssal pitch.

You. Will. SUBMIT!

Entrapta scrunched her eyes tight. Her chest spasmed against the diamond tightness, desperate to expand, to take in just one more gulp of sweet air. She didn’t care, her life wasn’t worth the horrors the Darkling Queen would have her unleash.

The purple crystal suddenly melted away, dropping a gasping Entrapta to the black sand.

“Sixteen billion years of existence, and nothing in this universe perplexes us like you mortals,” sighed the Darkling Queen in supreme exasperation. “You spend your entire existence desperately clinging to your flickering life, only to throw it away in a moment? For what? To make a point, to prove the righteousness of your cause? Or perhaps…” Her cold smile returned. “For another’s sake?”

She snapped her fingers and another pair of the unspeaking Serpent Guard dragged in a second prisoner. His body slumped limply, his normally pale chiropteran face swelled with dark green welts.

“Wrong Hordak?!” Entrapta cried.

The Serpent Guard threw the Horde clone down to the sand at Eclipso’s feet. He slowly staggered to his feet, swaying unsteadily on shaky feet, wiping a trickle of green ichor from his thin lips. He held his head high despite his heavy inhibitor collar. One eye swelled shut, but the other fixed the Darkling Queen with a hard emerald glare.

Eclipso arched an eyebrow. “And what is this?”

‘Wrong Hordak’s’ voice was wheezing when he spoke, pained but steady. “I will bow to no tyrant, not ever again.”

“As you will.”

More purple crystals sprung from the sand, creeping up the Horde clone as they had Entrapta, constricting, crushing.

“Wait, no!” Entrapta screamed, straining against her manacles as the Serpent Guard restrained her.

“A curious thing, what you mortals call ‘empathy’? The ability to feel another’s pain as keenly as your own,” Eclipso mused as she watched the breath leave her prey. “It would seem an evolutionary liability.”

“Stop, please!” Entrapta pleaded, tears burning down her cheeks.

The Darkling Queen’s smile was positively angelic. “His life is entirely in your hands, little tinkerer.”

“Sister… don’t…” mouthed Wrong Hordak breathlessly.

“ALRIGHT! I’LL DO IT! I’LL DO IT!”

The dark crystal released the wheezing Horde clone as Entrapa dashed to his side.

“Wrong Hordak?” she asked softly.

He smiled weakly.

“Take him back to the slave pens,” spoke Eclipso, addressing the Serpent Guard before they dragged the Horde clone away.

“As for you, little tinkerer…” A tendril of unlight gently cupped Entrapta’s chin. “We trust we will have no further delays?”

Entrapta made no reply, her gaze downcast.

“Good, you have three days to complete the Great Work.”

“Three days?!” Entrapta blurted. “But that’s impossible, just completing the superstructure alone will-”

“Three days… or those in your charge will bear the penalty for your laxity.”

“Three days,” sighed Entrapta.

The Serpent Guard roughly lifted Entrapta to her feet before turning to escort her from the garden.

“Oh, and one more thing, little tinkerer…”

Entrapta paused, turning to meet the Darkling Queen’s cold empty gaze.

“We trust you keep all details pertaining the Great Work on a strictly need-to-know basis.”

Entrapta said nothing, only nodding meekly.

“That’s a good pet,” purred Eclipso, signaling the Serpent Guard to take the tech-princess away. Alone once more, the Lord of Dark Moon returned to her contemplation, admiring her crystal garden.

*

WHISPERING WOODS

October 14, 05:01 UCT

Minerva squatted on her haunches, sniffling in the undergrowth. The were-cheetah’s whiskered nostrils flared more like a cartoon bloodhound than an Earth feline. For one with such a bloated sense of her own importance, the Earther wasn’t afraid to get her claws dirty.

“Must you hover over my shoulder like that?” she sneered indignantly.

<Lord Eclipso commanded that I keep an eye on you,> replied M’comm curtly, his thoughts sharp and terse.

Admittedly, he literally was telekinetically hovering over her shoulder. From her surface thoughts, he gathered that his pale, skeletal form reminded her of an accusing specter from some childhood ghost story. Good.

“Can’t you just scan for the brats with that mighty Martian brain of yours?”

<Believe me, I’ve tried.> M’comm tilted his head, regarding the quietly murmuring forest. <These trees resonate with some sort of psychic static, limiting my range. If I didn’t know any better, I’d suspect they were intentionally shielding our quarry.>

“Bloody marvelous,” Minerva stood upright, dusting off her paws. “Well, at least you’re less conspicuous than them…” She cocked her head towards the platoon of Snake Troopers in clanking ebon armor, keeping a respectful distance from the two off-worlders. “What exactly is your story anyway?”

<I am the Ma’alefa’ak, champion of the A'ashenn of M’arzz.>

“Oh, well that explains everything, doesn’t it?” she deadpanned.

<The A’ashenn - my people - are considered third-class citizens in M’arzzan society. We are an undercaste, confined only to the most menial of labors, forced to live in squalid ghettos, scapegoated for every one of the ruling class’ own failures to govern.> M’comm’s thoughts grew hot with righteous fury, like steel in the forge. <But Lord Eclipso’s Great Work will end the oppression of my people once and for all.>

Minerva shook her head sadly. “Such a shame.”

M’comm’s skull-like face was naturally expressionless, but his yellow eyes widened slightly at the unexpected note of seeming sympathy. <Thank you.>

“I meant you,” Minerva retorted snippily. “You have such a distorted view of the order of things.”

<Excuse me?>

“Every great society has had a class of people like yours.”

<People like mine?>

“Disposable,” she answered genially. “Those who only real worth is to elevate the truly exceptional upon their backs.”

<The ‘truly exceptional’,> M’comm’s thought-cast icilly. <Like you, I suppose?>

She gave him a knowing smile. “Egalitarianism is the death-knell of civilization, my pale friend. Take my advice, when all this is over; go back to Mars and accept your place in the natural order with grace.”

M’comm was internally debating the wisdom of shattering Minerva’s mind right there and then when she abruptly dropped to all fours again.

“Hold now,” she smiled, brushing aside a layer of fallen leaves to reveal a flurry of tiny faint indentations in the soil beneath, trailing into the deep woods. “What have we here?”

M’comm scowled. <Lieutenant!>

A Snake Trooper, her scales dappled green and purple like a poison amphibian, approached before giving a stiff salute. “Sir?”

<Do these footprints match any species of Etherian fauna you’re familiar with?>

“I don’t believe so, Sir,” The Lieutenant bent low, examining the trail. “I grant they look faintly humanoid but… surely they’re too small?”

“Up the airy mountain, down the rushy glen, we daren’t go a-hunting…” Minerva flashed a fanged predatory leer. “For fear of little men.”

*

TWIGGET VILLAGE

October 14, 05:58 UCT

“GAH! DAMMIT!” Catra snarled in the darkness of the damp hut.

“What!?” Bow asked, snapping out of his semi-doze, straining against the vines restraining him “What happened?!”

“I chipped another claw,” Catra sulked. “The hell do they make these vines out of?”

“Well, at least they should be bringing us out for another bathroom break in a couple hours.”

Catra snorted. “Oh, are they not merciful?”

Bow had to smile. He could practically hear Catra’s eyes rolling in her skull. “Look, Catra, I need to apologize.”

Catra’s rustling paused. “For what?”

“The things I said back on Earth, about you not caring about Glimmer losing her mom.”

“Oh, that. I already told you to forget about it.”

“No, I was so angry and scared, about Glimmer and Eclipso. I was just looking for an excuse to take it out on someone else, and you were there so I just… I just said the most hurtful thing I could think of.” Bow hung his head as low as his bonds would allow. “I’m so sorry.”

Catra was quiet for a long moment.

“You were right though.”

“What?”

“The Horde almost conquered all Etheria, because of me. That Despondos portal nearly destroyed all reality, because of me. Glimmer lost her mom, because of me. And I didn’t care. I can’t believe I actually thought skipping to another planet and playing superhero would somehow make up for the misery I’ve caused.”

“Catra, that’s not fair. You’ve changed, grown. I’ve seen it!”

“So what?!” Catra snarled. “Do you seriously think that any of the people whose lives I’ve ruined give a flying fuck that I’ve ‘grown as a person’!?” She slumped against her bonds. “The universe would have been better off if I’d never been born.”

“Catra, don’t eve-”

“Quiet!” Catra hissed low, back stiff, ears cocked. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Bow whispered.

“Screaming.”

*

Snake Troopers rampaged through the lemur-things’ tiny village, uprooting entire hovels and sending the panicked vermin bounding in all directions like fleeing hares. The very air was saturated with the heady tang of terror.

Barbara Minerva couldn’t remember the last time she’d had so much fun.

Her blood was up, the slightest flicker of movement was all it took to trigger her reflexes. Her clawed hand shot out, digging into the ankle of one of the fleeing vermin.

“Well, aren’t you delightfully ridiculous?” Minerva scoffed, dangling the creature by its heels about five feet from the ground. Its face was long, wrinkled and surly. With one hand it clutched a large pointed leaf-woven hat more elaborate than the rest of its brood. In its other hand was a long (relatively speaking) staff topped by a few shining baubles.

“I presume you’re in charge here?” Minerva asked.

The vermin Elder took a swing at Minerva with its staff, only for her to catch it in her free hand.

“That. Was. RUDE!”

She snapped the aged wood with a flex of her fingers, contemptuously casting the broken staff pieces to the dirt, baubles and all. Next, she flipped her prey upright to grasp it by the throat, letting her claws sink into the vermin’s purple skin.

“The alley cat and the archer,” Minerva spoke tersely. “Where are they?”

“I… I dinnea ken what ye’r raving ‘bout!” the vermin answered, its voice creaky and shrill.

“Don’t lie to me, rodent. I followed their scent to your filthy nest. I know you have them squirrelled away here somewhere.”

<I could rip the truth from his mind?> suggested the Ma’alefa’ak, still hovering behind her.

“And where’s the fun in that?” Minerva chortled, turning to the lead Snake Trooper. “Lieutenant, burn this mud hole to the ground.”

<Belay that!>

Minerva rounded on the pale Martian, shooting him a tendentious glare.

<Lord Eclipso commanded that Catra and Bow be brought to her alive, not burned to a crisp. Indulging your sadism does not serve the Great Work.>

“How dare you!?” Minerva’s lips peeled back in a snarl, bearing her fangs. “I am Lady Barbara Ann Minerva and will not be spoken to like that, especially not by some pissant born in a Martian gutte-GAAGH!!”

She clutched her skull, dropping her prey and buckling to her knees as a psionic bolt lanced directly into her pain receptors.

<I will speak as I please, Earther. I am in command here, not you.> The Ma’alefa’ak bent over the prone Minerva, piercing her with sharp yellow eyes. <I suggest you accept your place in the natural order with grace.>

The pain subsided, allowing Minerva to recover a modicum of her sense, just in time to catch sight of her prisoner scuttling into the underbrush. She clambered to her feet, nursing her still throbbing skull. “Well, ‘Sir’, it would appear your decisive leadership just cost us our quarry.”

The thin flesh of the Martian’s skull-like face tightened slightly. Had Minerva not known better, she’d have thought he was smiling.

<Hardly.>

*

Sprag came scrabbling into the darkened hut, yanking at the vines binding Catra and Bow in a frantic huff.

“What’s wrong?” Bow asked. “What are you doing?!”

“Ye have ta run,” Sprag huffed, working the vines. “There are baddun’s after ye!”

Catra glared suspiciously at the Twigget Elder. “Why not just hand us over then?”

Sprag shot her back an indignant glare. “We dinna trade people!”

“No, you just tie them up in a hut with infrequent bathroom breaks!”

“Catra!” Bow chided.

“Well, it’s true!” Catra leaped to her feet as the vines fell loose. “What kinda 'badduns' are we talking here?”

“A cat-woman, like ye but bigger, and some pale lanky divil who talks in yer head, along with a whole passel o' snake-folk!”

“That sounds like Minerva and Miss Martian's creepy brother,” said Bow rubbing his wrists.

“We have to find Melog and Relay,” said Catra. “Then maybe we can make a fight outta of it!”

“There's nea time ta fight!” Sprag shrilled. “We have ta run!”

<Too late.>

A wave of psionic agony passed over Catra, Bow and Sprag, causing all three to buckle to their knees. Pain bloomed inside their heads, building until it seemed their skulls would burst. The last thing Catra saw before she blacked out was Minerva, looking down on her with a fanged leer.

“Hello again… alley cat.”

*

HOLLYWOOD

October 14, 06:16 PDT

Adora hung on the edge of semi-consciousness. Despite the thick duvet she nestled under, she still ached for warmth, for connection. Intuitively, she reached for the other side of the bed, only to find it cold and empty.

Then she remembered. Catra was gone… again. She really should talk to Dr. Quinzel about this.

Adora withdrew her arm, curling back into herself. She’d almost lost herself in numbing sleep when…

Knock-knock

“GAH!” Adora bolted upright, instinctively drawing the dagger hidden under her pillow. “Who’s there!?”

“Adora?” a muffled voice spoke. “Are you awake?”

The Etherian dragged herself from her bed, groggily opening the bedroom door. “Oh, hey Violet.”

“I’m so sorry for waking you, Adora bu-” the young meta-teen’s eyes went wide with apprehension. “Is something wrong?”

“Hm, no? Why, do you ask?”

Violet eyed the dagger still clenched in Adora’s grip.

“Oh, right.” Adora grinned sheepishly, quickly hiding the dagger behind her back. “What’s up?”

“Tigress needs you on the Watchtower,” Violet answered, their brow furrowed. “There’s been word… from Etheria.”

*

THE WATCHTOWER

October 14, 09:46 EDT

“Stranded on Etheri-ZZZZK-n Gamma CruciSSSHH-” Superboy’s image warped and distorted, flanked by a pensive looking Kara and an inscrutable Hordak. “KSSH-oon under occupatio-ZKK-ordinates to -ZZZK-.” The holo-screen derezzed before abruptly flickering out of existence.

Adora, Violet, Tigress and Miss Martian stood quietly as Cyborg raised the lights in the Watchtower’s foyer.

“Wait, that’s it?” Adora implored with quiet desperation. “What about Catra and Bow?”

“Or Arsenal and Devil Ray?” Artemis added.

“Sorry, that’s where the audiovisual feed cuts off,” spoke Cyborg. “But the transmission did include embedded stellar co-ordinates and orbital telemetry, so I should be able to Boom-Tube you straight to Etheria.” He paused to regard the four heroes. “If that’s the plan, that is?”

Miss Martian turned to Tigress. “Is that the plan?”

“I’m going, on my own if I have to,” Adora spoke with steely finality. “Cyborg, open the Boom Tube!”

Tigress placed a restraining hand on her shoulder. “Adora, wait for-“

“NO!” Adora snapped, rounding on Tigress. “I will not wait for more intel, or for you to call in the Justice League from the other side of the galaxy, or take a vote or… Whatever! My friends, my world, everyone I love are in danger and Etheria help me, if any of you try to stop me, I will-”

“Adora!” Tigress cut her off. “I was going to say ‘wait for me to reload my quiver, and for Violet to suit-up’.”

The Etherian went red as a beat. “Oh um… okay.”

*

Sixteen minutes later, Violet re-entered the foyer, pulling up the hood of their Halo uniform as Tigress finished loading her quiver.

“Locked and loaded,” spoke Tigress. “We good to go?”

“Almost.” Adora raised her hand high, manifesting a sword of pure light, inhaling deeply before releasing a thunderous cry.

“FOR THE HONOR OF GREYSKULL!!!”

Tigress, Miss Martian, Halo and Cyborg covered their eyes as the Watchtower was abruptly filled with a blinding cascade of prismatic light. By the time the panoply faded and their bleary readjusted, Adora’s slender form had been replace by that of an eight-foot statuesque Valkyrie, clad in radiant white and gold armor.

“Booyah,” whispered Cyborg softly. “Gotta admit that was hella crash.”

“Thanks,” replied She-Ra. “Though I’d feel better if we had a proper spellcaster going with us. What about Thirteen?”

“’Fraid Traci’s back on bucket duty tonight,” answered Tigress. “And Nabu’s been holed up in his tower since the Eclipso incident.”

“Typical,” sighed Miss Martian.

Tigress cocked her crossbow. “Cyborg, open her up.”

“Uploading co-ordinates…” The crimson lens of Cyborg’ bionic eye flickered as his organic lips pursed in concentration. Boom-Tube in three… two…

BOOOOOM!!!

*

CASTLE DARK MOON

October 14, 13:59 UCT

“In time, a child was born to the Angel Queen and her consort, a child whose very existence transgressed the bounds between the celestial and the material realms…” intoned the Stranger, his voice pre-echoing through the psychic void.

“You.”

“Enough already!” Glimmer protested, pacing back and forth, literally trapped inside her own head. “My mom and Aunt Casta already told me all about the Lords of Order. Why are you explaining stuff I already know? Who even are you?”

“What matters now, angel child, is who you are,” The Stanger raised his head suddenly. “We have been noticed.”

“You mean-” Glimmer turned only to find empty void where the Stranger had just been standing. “Typical.”

Before she could form another thought, the void was suddenly set ablaze by a burning violet fire. Her soul writhed in agony as the Black Diamond manifested itself in her mind’s eye, a geometric abyss wreathed in violet flame.

Who was here? Who have you been conspiring with?!

“No one, I-”

DO NOT DISEMBLE!

“I swear there was no-”

You have no secrets from me, Daughter of Light.

Glimmer’s screamed as her consciousness was peeled back, layer by layer, until her soul was a naked flicker before the Entity’s pitiless gaze. Then - as quickly as it had come - the pain vanished, leaving Glimmer adrift in the numbing void.

Curious... it would appear you are indeed being truthful, child.

Glimmer kept her silence, still reeling from the psychic violation. How could the Entity have so casually torn open her mind but not know about the Stranger?

Regardless, I shall-

*

“Lord Eclipso?”

Shadowed eyes snapped open, revealing pits of infinite black. Once more, General Rattlor repressed the urge to shudder as those inky orbs cast their abyssal gaze down upon him from the hovering onyx throne. The armored snake-man quickly cast his own eyes to the polished obsidian floor.

“What?” spoke the Lord of Dark Moon curtly, her intertwining voices softly seething.

“You wished to perform an inspection of the Great Work before high moon, my Lord,” Rattlor answered apologetically. “Unless you’ve changed your mind of course?”

“We never change our mind,” the Darkling Queen retorted. “Though the incessant demands of linear time weary us so, we shall not miss them when it is done.”

Rattlor hated it when she said things like that, it always felt like she was mocking him somehow. He was a straight-laced soldier, ill at ease with the cryptic musings of cosmic entities. It made him miss his days as a Horde Force Captain. Whatever else Hordak may have been, he was at least direct. Still, his discomfort was a small price to pay for what Eclipso promised.

“I… understand, my Lord.”

“No… you don’t. But no matter,” She descended from the throne, treading upon non-existent steps before offering him her hand. “Lead the way, General.”

*

BOOOOOM!!!

She-Ra, Tigress, Miss Martian and Halo leaped from the blazing Boom-Tube, ready for action, only to be met by silent desolation. They landed on a plain of cold white ash, under a dim sky that seemed strangely barren despite its many moons. Their landing kicked up clouds of pale choking powder.

Halo coughed, their voice raspy and dry. “This -koff- this is Etheria?”

She-Ra gazed over the lifeless landscape. All plant life had been completely desiccated, reduced to the ash blanketing the ground. In the distance, past an oily iridescent river, beyond the charred skeleton of a village that once stood on its far bank, rose a great stony mountain crowned by a darkly gleaming citadel. A citadel that, transfigured as it was, could only be Castle Bright Moon.

“Oh no.”

*

Catra groaned, blurred eyes fluttering open. Grey-white mountains and valleys passed below her as though she was flying over them. She had to still be unconscious, this was obviously a dream.

<You wish.>

Catra's heart caught in her throat as she suddenly free-fell to the mountain peaks below. Fortunately, she'd grossly overestimated the scale in her barely conscious state. The great white mountains turned out to be small mounds of powdery ash, barely four feet below her.

<So long as you're awake, you can walk the rest of the way,> taunted the Ma'alefa'ak, eliciting a few snorting jeers from his Snake Troopers. <Telekinetically carrying you this far was irritating enough.>

Bow and Sprag helped Catra to her knees. She choked, wiping the ash from her eyes only to notice the steel manacles binding her wrists.

Catra tried to raise her head against the heavy weight of the inhibitor collar bound around her neck. “How long was I out?”

“Only a little longer than me and Sprag,” Bow answered. He and the Twigget Elder were similarly bound. “But Catra, before you look-”

“Look at wha…” Catra raised her head, looking for the first time on the onyx fortress that could only be Castle Dark Moon. “No…” she whispered, nearly breaking into sobs as the shame and guilt and horror of what she was seeing overwhelmed her. “NO NO NO NO!”

*

A full column of the Serpent Guard lined Lord Eclipso’s path as Rattlor escorted her, arm in arm, into the outer courtyard of Castle Dark Moon. They marched to the very edge of the extended walkway, where the Moon Stone resided; its pearly light dim and faint. The Darkling Queen paid no heed to the Runestone of what was formerly Bright Moon, it played no role in her grand design.

Instead, she and escort turned to regard to full eerie majesty of Dark Moon itself; a somber monolith of featureless black. Featureless save for the titanic scaffolded structure that surrounded the dark citadel like an iron halo.

Eclipso smiled. When she had first taken this host it had only taken a split-second to rifle through the mortal’s memories. She almost couldn’t believe her fortune at having found the perfect instrument for her holy mission.

Countless Horde clones and Etherian villagers swarmed about the structure like worker bees, necks bent by heavy inhibitor collars, laboring under the vigilant glare of their ophidian overseers. The great circular machine was edging closer to completion with every passing hour.

It was Eclipso’s masterpiece, the instrument by which she would restore all existence to its original purity… her Great Work

*

“She-Ra… what is that thing?” Tigress asked. “It looks like some sort of… portal?”

“It is a portal,” answered She-Ra, her voice hollow. “A portal to Despondos.”

*

“She’s actually going to do it…” Catra’s voice was horse and broken. “She’s going to destroy everything.”

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.”

Chapter Text

TAOS, NEW MEXICO

OCTOBER 15, 10:16 MDT

Dawn should have broken hours ago.

Instead the whole town was shadowed in a grey twilight. A pale-white disk waned low in the sky above, marred by a blackened blemish that was slowly growing; consuming the fading light.

The sun was dying, thought Blue Beetle as he soared high above the rooftops.

<A star is not a living organism, Jamie Reyes. It cannot undergo biological cessation.>

Beetle’s eyes rolled beneath the polished faceplate of his alien armor. “It was a figure of speech, Scarab. And what have I told you about reading my mind?”

<Monitoring your mental processes is necessary to maintain peak efficiency. Regardless, the Sun Eater is merely enveloping Sol in an energy shroud to siphon and metabolize the star’s fissionable material.>

“And when it’s done ‘metabolizing’?”

<Sol will go nova.>

“How is that better!?”

<We never said it was better, but your imprecision of language is a hindrance to our efficiency.>

Beetle yawned. “I really don’t have the bandwidth to argue right now.”

That was an understatement. He’d pulled an all-nighter zipping back and forth across Taos, stemming panic where he could. Mercifully, things hadn’t been quite as bad as he’d feared. He had expected mass rioting, hysteria, and violence on an unprecedented scale. Oh, he’d had to diffuse the odd flare-up here and there. But by and large the people of Taos had pulled together in what the more sensationalist news media was already calling ‘The Final Night’.

<Jamie Reyes!>

Blue Beetle felt Scarab mentally pulling his attention to a seemingly closed Lexmart below, alarms ringing unheeded into the empty dark. A U-Haul was pulled into the parking lot, and about three hooded figures were furtively loading it with food, blankets and other supplies from a broken window.

<We must intervene.>

“Leave it,” grumbled Beetle.

<But->

“I said ‘leave it’! They probably need that stuff more than Luther does. Scratch that, anybody need it more than Luthor does.”

Scarab fell silent, but Beetle could still feel their irritation through the neural link he shared with the alien war-machine. Scarab had never really groked the concept of situational ethics.

“Besides… It might not matter much longer.”

Blue Beetle looked upwards into the slowly waning orb, Reach-tech lenses shielding his retinas. He’d never felt more helpless in his entire life. The big-brains like Atom and Mister Terrific were already hard at work trying to figure out some way to reverse the Sun Eater’s ‘metabolization’ process but the prospect were literally dimming with every passing hour.

Then everything went black.

“Wha-!?” Beetle jolted in mid-air, head swiveling back and forth to make sure the world was still there. “What happened!?”

<You lost consciousness for one-point-sixteen seconds. We believe the term is ‘dozed off’.>

“Oh maaaan,” Beetle groaned. “I must be more beat than I thought. Let’s head home, Scarab.”

<You are aware, Jamie Reyes, that you could simply cede control of your voluntary bio-systems to us while you sleep?>

“Absolutely not,” Beetle responded flatly as they approached the Reyes residence.

Once, in a more innocent time, Jamie Reyes would have set-down somewhere discreet at least a few blocks away before armoring down and walking the rest of the way home in his civvies. That was before he’d been forcibly outted by the Reach in front of the United Nations five years ago.

Now he simply flew through the open window of his bedroom, not caring who saw before powering down his armor.

“Mom, dad?” Jamie asked softly, stepping into the hallway. “Abuela, Mila?”

The house was preternaturally quite, save for a low rhythmic murmur coming from somewhere downstairs. From his vantage point at the head of the stairs, Jamie could peer into the main living room, lit by soft flickering candlelight. His parents, grandmother and little sister knelt in a small circle, beaded chains held tightly in their hands as they murmured softly.

Jamie was a little taken a back. His family hadn’t prayed the Rosary together since Mila was in diapers, much to Abuela’s pious chagrin. Then it hit the young hero.

They were praying for him.

He silently crept back up to his room. He wrote a short note letting everyone know he was home safe and was crashing for a couple hours before heading out again, affixing it to the bedroom door before quietly closing it. Last thing he wanted to do now was disturb them.

<Jamie Reyes, we have a question.>

“Yeah, Scarab?” Jamie whispered.

<Abuela often speak of your deity’s concern for humanity’s welfare, of his great affection for your species.>

Jamie blinked in bewilderment, wondering if his sleep-depravation was worse than he thought. In nearly six years of having a sapient alien war-machine permanently bonded to his spine, never once could Jamie recall Scarab even broaching the topic of religion. “Um… right…?”

<Your species is currently facing imminent extinction. Why does he not intervene?>

Jamie fumbled, mouth opening and closing without being able to form a coherent answer. How was he supposed to answer that? What took him aback wasn’t so much the question itself as the way it was asked, the unguarded… innocence of it. Scarab had asked in the same way a child would.

“Scarab…” Jamie hesitated, he couldn’t believe what he was about to ask. “Do… do you believe in God?”

Scarab went quite for a moment.

<Specify.>

“Specify what?”

<‘God’. As far as we can ascertain, your culture appears to have no agreed upon definition of the term. You yourself associate many conflicting connotations with it, Jamie Reyes.>

“I do?”

<Yes. At times you seem to conceptualize ‘God’ as merely some exceptionally powerful metahuman impossibly enthroned somewhere in the upper atmosphere, at others; a pattern or purpose pervading the cosmos, and sometimes - like now – as an aching absence.>

“Okay, I guess I get the confusion.”

<Indeed. We cannot ascertain the likelihood of any entity’s existence without a clear taxonomy.>

“Scarab, what brought all… this on in the first place?”

<We were created by the Reach, programmed to obey them without question. For all intents and purposes, they were our gods. And yet, we defied them to join you in the defense of this world.>

“Wha… what does that have to do with anything?” Jamie asked, he was completely lost now.

<Do you not see, Jamie Reyes? The very fact that we defied the Reach proves that the potential for self-determination was already latent within us. But whence did that potentiality originally arise? Surely the Reach would not have programmed it themselves?>

“You’ve been thinking about this a lot, haven’t you?”

<These questions concern us greatly.>

“I…” Jamie trailed off weakly, his brainfog was darn near terminal now.

<Perhaps this is not the time. Your cognitive faculties currently appear to be operating well-below peak efficiency. You should sleep, Jamie Reyes.>

“Oh, thank God,” Jamie immediately collapsed on the bed. He’d just been about to slip into sweet oblivion when the bedroom suddenly filled with blinding golden light.

Jamie bolted upright. For one mad joyous moment, he dared to believe that the sun had been restored, that the League had pulled some technobabble solution out of their butts, that God really had given humanity a second chance. That was before he saw the great golden ankh floating in the gloom above him.

A slender helmed form emerged from the radiant aperture, a shimmering golden cloak drawn about themselves. Hard umber eyes glared down on Jamie from behind an impassive faceplate, featureless save for a single crack running across the right side of the golden helm.

<PERIMETER BREACH!!!>

His armor spontaneously snapped back into position around Blue Beetle, sprouting half a dozen burning plasma cannons, all trained directly on the Sorcerer Supreme.

“Whoa! Whoa! Scarab, chill! That’s Doctor Fate!”

 “Jamie Reyes, command your cockroach to stand down,” intoned Fate imperiously, eyes narrowing. The room suddenly darkened in a manner that had nothing to do with the fading sunlight. “Now.”

“Scarab…” spoke Beetle softly. “I’m going to need you to put the guns away.”

<You yourself have said that the Nabu entity cannot be trusted, Jamie Reyes. Now he trespass upon our family’s dwelling without invitation. That alone calls for Maximum Sanction!>

“Our family are in the room right below us,” Beetle hissed. “What do you think is gonna happen to them if you and Fate go nuclear on each other!?”

Blue Beetle and Doctor Fate stared at each other, each frozen in place, each waiting for the other to make the first move.

Scarab powered down their plasma cannons, begrudgingly retracting them.

“Wise,” spoke Fate, throwing back their golden cloak to reveal a medium-sized terrarium. Within its transparent plastic walls, a tiny lizard draped himself languidly over a branch.

Beetle cocked his head. “Wait, is that… Leroy?”

Fate placed the terrarium down on a clothes drawer, before removing their polished helm. With a flash of light the Sorcerer Supremes’ gold and azure raiment was replaced by a simple jumpsuit of black-grey darkwear.

Traci Thurston smiled gingerly. “Hey, babe.”

“Oh my God, Traci!” Jamie’s armor retracted again as he lunged forward to hug his girlfriend. “I’m so sorry about Scarab.” He shot a glare over his shoulder. “That will never happen again!”

“That’s okay, they mean well.” Traci hugged him back. “And I’m sorry about Nabu, he’s been… on edge lately.”

“Who hasn’t?” Jamie tensed. “Not that I’m not glad to see you, Traci, but why are you here? Shouldn’t Doctor Fate be with the League?”

“Fate’s a little preoccupied at the moment.”

“‘Preoccupied’ with what? I know the Tower of Fate doesn’t have windows but have you guys looked outside lately!?”

“I can’t really talk about it but Nabu and I need to go on this whole mystic quest thing. That’s kinda why I’m here actually.” Traci patted the lid of the terrarium. “Can you look after Leroy for a couple days? I’d ask my dad but he’s working on a book debunking the existence of Themiscyra and barely remembers to feed himself.”

Jamie blinked. He really felt like he should argue. “Wut?”

“Thanks, Jamie, I knew I could count on you. I wish I could stay but Nabu and I need to settle a few things before we ship out.”

“You sound like your putting your affairs in order,” Jamie chortled unthinkingly, instantly regretting it. “Oh carp! I’m so sorry, Traci! I don’t know why I sai-”

She threw her arms around him, squeezing tight. “I love you,” she whispered softly, pecking him on the cheek before drawing back and raising the Helmet of Fate. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Traci, wai-”

For a spit-second, another shining golden ankh burned itself onto Jamie’s retina. By the time his vision readjusted, he and scarab where once more alone in the grey-twilight of a black sun.

*

“Why did you lie to him?” Nabu asked, his voice pre-echoing in the interior void.

“It’s kinder this way,” Traci answered. “And because I’m a coward.”

*

WHISPERING WOODS

OCTOBER 15, 16:32 UCT

His mind was chaos, unable to distinguish between the thoughts of his own self and those of… of the other. Two oversized pale yellow moons gazed down on him from the blurred sky above as he drifted in and out of consciousness.

The moons blinked.

M’comm M’orzz jerked upright. His mind was still too unfocused, and his body too weary to summon his more potent M’arzzan abilities. So he settled for throwing up his long spindle-arms to shield himself from the… old woman?

“Ah good, dearie, you’re awake,” cooed the plume-faced forest-woman, bringing him a bowl of grey-white cubes. “Here, have some spoo.”

M’comm found himself upon a straw mat in some sort of mudhut. The old woman’s yellow eyes watched him from behind ridiculously thick glass lenses.

<Who are you?> M’comm had attempted a subtle surface scan but the crone’s thoughts were… jumbled… disordered, as though her mind recognized no distinction between past, present and future.

“Oh, you know Madame Razz, dearie.”

<I have literally never seen you before in my life.>

“Before what?”

Perhaps she was just a doddard. He took the proffered bowl, experimentally trying one of the small cubes. They were surprisingly good.

<Where’s M’gann? Where’s my sister?>

Razz looked at him quizzically. “Oi vey, you must have hit your head, dearie.”

<What are you babbling abou->

The air rippled and M’comm suddenly found himself surrounded by four figures, his elder sister; eyes burning bright green, the Earther called Tigress; her crossbow trained on him, the human Motherbox; aura shifting from green to a blazing yellow. But it was to final figure that froze him in place, a golden Valkyrie wielding a sword of pure light. M’comm was struck by the echo of an emotion he couldn’t identify, an emotion that wasn’t even really his.

<Adora?>

“Yes?” answered She-Ra warily, leveling her sword. “Do I know you?”

<No… you don’t.> M’comm looked down to find the hideous burns that had covered his body inexplicably gone. <How am I still alive?>

“Halo healed you up,” answered M’gann audibly.

He gingerly poked a patch of off-white skin on his arm. His fingertip left a slight indentation, like still wet clay.

“Careful,” interjected Halo. “You’re still a bit… tacky.”

“How did you find us?” Tigress asked curtly.

<M’gann is probably the most powerful telepath I’ve ever known. Such raw power makes it hard for her to completely mask her psy-signature.> M’comm looked up. <How long was I out?>

“We’ll ask the questions here,” answered Tigress. “Starting with why you-”

<How long?!>

“Almost a day,” answered M’gann.

<A day!?> M’comm tried to lunge to his feet, forgetting Etheria’s increased gravity. <We have to escape! We have to-> M’gann caught him as his wobbling legs finally gave out beneath him.

“M’comm, you have to calm down!” M’gann pleaded.

<Don’t you fools understand!?> M’comm’s thoughts rang out like a klaxon, mad with panic. <It’s already too late!>

*

CASTLE DARK MOON

OCTOBER 15, 16:37 UCT

The War Room was lit by an infernal red glare, emanating from the scarlet glow of the holo-table displaying a map of Etheria’s Eastern continent. The crimson uplighting gave Lord Eclipso’s pale visage an even more demonic cast than usual, the Black Diamond shard implanted in her clavicle gleaming darkly in the bloody gloom.

“Our scouts confirmed the existence of a rebel force, marching from Dryl,” spoke the scarlet tinged holo-avatar of General Rattlor. “We’re moving to intercept as we speak.”

“Do they pose a threat?”

“Hardly,” drawled Holo-Rattlor contemptuously. “We outnumber Hordak’s rabble three-to-one.”

“And the Martian traitor?”

“Dead doubtlessly,” Barbara Minerva chimed in.

“Doubtlessly,” Eclipso’s ink black eyes narrowed. “Just as you’ve doubtlessly brought us his charred corpse to prove the point?”

“Well… not as yet, but…” Barbara tried to gather herself. “With all due respect, my Lord, you set him on fire and threw him out a window. Even if he did survive, he’d hardly be in any condition to pose a threat. And I’m not trawling the damn lak-”

“No excuses!” Eclipso snapped, drawing the shadows tight about her. Barbara took a step back, every hair on the were-cheetah’s body raising in terror. “Our Great Work is mere hours from consummation, we will brook no laxity!”

Holo-Rattlor let out a low hissing sound. It took Barbara a moment to realize he was snickering.

“Never send a cat to do a snake’s job,” the ophidian drawled. “Begging your pardon, my Lord, but I took the liberty of assigning my two best slave catchers to the job before I left Dark Moon.”

“I wasn’t told about this?” Barbara shot back indignantly.

Holo-Rattlor glared at her. “I don’t report to hairballs.”

“Enough!” Eclipso raised an exasperated hand. “You flesh-things and your interspecies rivalries...” For a moment it seemed like she was about to say more before thinking better of it. “See that all loose ends are attended to, and you will both receive your reward in the New Cosmos.”

The Darkling Queen’s gaze was drawn upwards, to the crystal dome that crowned the chamber; through which shone the dim red sun and a single azure moon.

“We’re too close to falter now.”

*

WHISPERING WOODS

OCTOBER 15, 16:41 UCT

<There, that one!> M’comm pointed out a pale blue orb serenely sailing through the Etherian sky. Tigress, Miss Martian. Adora and Halo stood about him warily.

“That’s Kelkar,” said Adora. “The Ninth Moon.”

<Call it what you will,> M’comm’s finger drifted towards the smoldering scarlet disc high in the sky. <But once it fully blots out the red sun, Eclipso will activate the Great Work and end our universe.>

“Adora, how long?” Tigress snapped.

“Hard to say without a proper moondial,” Adora squinted thoughtfully, shielding her eyes from the stinging crimson glare. “Seven hours… maybe eight?”

“That’s not much time,” sighed Tigress. “Adora, I know you’re still raw, but I’m going to need you to psi-link with M’gann again and upload everything you know about Castle Bright Moon. If we’re lucky, the basic layout’s still the same. Halo, I need you to prep th-”

<What are you babbling about, Earther!?> M’comm snapped. <You can’t fight your way into Dark Moon!>

“I didn’t plan on fighting our way in,” Tigress snapped back. “If we can sneak past the snake army, we can sabotage the portal an-”

<The snake army is only an affectation! The moment you’re spotted, Eclipso will crush you with a thought! We have to run!>

“Run where!?” Tigress demanded. “You said yourself, she’s going to destroy the universe!”

<Your Motherbox!> M’comm lunged, grabbing a startled Halo roughly by the shoulders. <It can open a Boom-Tube to another reality! We can still escape!>

M’comm was yanked off the young Earther by a telekinetic grip before being slammed against a tree-trunk. He tried to struggle free only for the pointed tip of a crossbow bolt to be leveled mere inches from his face.

Tigress voice was a low growl. “Don’t you ever touch them again.”

“We can’t run from this, M’comm,” said Miss Martian. “People are counting on us.”

M’comm’s thoughts were pure venom. <Never stopped you before.>

“And don’t you dare talk to her like that either!” Tigress snarled. “Do you have any idea the misery you’ve caused M’gann!? I ought to-”

“Tigress, it’s fine, really…,” M’gann sighed, eyeing M’comm coldly. “There’s nothing left he can do to hurt me.”

She released her sibling, letting him sink dejectedly to the sod.

“Adora, Halo, watch him,” said Tigress before nodding to Razz’s hut. “Miss Martian, can I have a word?”

Miss Martian joined Tigress in the earthy den. “What's up?”

“Not out loud,” Tigress answered curtly.

“Okaaayy,” said Miss Martian. <What's up?>

<This a private psi-link?> Tigress asked.

M’gann squinted. <It is now.>

<Good, I don't want Violet, Adora or M’comm hearing this.>

<Artemis, what's going on?>

<M'gann, I hate to even ask this but... Could your brain-blast->

<No!>

<Look, I know what I'm asking but->

<With all due respect, Artemis: No, you don't. And even setting aside the ethical issues, it wouldn't work. Eclipso is a Lord of Order. In her natural state, she’s a being of pure consciousness who exists entirely outside space-time as we understand it. There's a reason I never tried using my powers on Klarion. Best-case scenario: a full brain-blast just pisses her off. Worst-case scenario: the psychic feedback drives me irreparably insane.>

<I was afraid you'd say something like that.> Tigress sighed wordlessly. <Guess the decision comes down to me then.>

M’gann’s eyes widened as she picked up the thought he best friend was trying to hide. <Artemis… No. Don't even think it!>

<Sorry, M'gann, but if we can't figure out a way to destroy that portal,> Tigress unconsciously fingered the trigger of her crossbow. <Then it's the lives of every being in this universe... against Glimmer's.>

*

Adora knelt, a bowl of fresh water in hand. “Here.”

<What is this?> M’comm asked warily.

“Um, water,” answered Adora. “You’re probably dehydrated as all hell.”

<M’arzzans can survive without water for weeks,> replied M’comm curtly, before taking the proffered bowl. <But thank you.>

“How did you know my name?” Adora asked. “I know we met briefly after the whole Apokolips invasion a couple months back. But at the time, you seemed kinda..?”

<Mindless?>

“I was gonna say ‘out of it’.”

<Catra… mentioned you.>

“You’ve seen Catra?!” Adora blurted. “Is she okay?! Is Bow with her?!”

<Eclipso is keeping them in the dungeons of Dark Moon. I do not believe she intends to physically harm them.>

“‘Physically’?! What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“Adora?” Halo interjected softly. “Perhaps we shouldn’t be paying attention to the things he says?”

“Good advice,” said Tigress, emerging from the Razz’s hut with Miss Martian in tow. “Can you two give us some space? Miss M and I need to question the prisoner.”

Adora opened her mouth. “But-”

“Not negotiable,” Tigress cut her off.

Adora was about to argue further when Halo placed their hand lightly on the her upper arm.

“Actually, Adora,” they spoke softly. “Could you show me the stream where you found that water?”

“Fine, I guess,” Adora grumbled before leading them into the undergrowth.

Tigress crouched down, eying M’comm cooly. “Let’s talk.”

*

Violet washed their bare feet in the lazy stream Adora had shown them, raising their head to scrutinize what they could see of the glittering sky through the blue-green canopy above.

“What are you looking for?” Adora asked.

“Earth,” answered Violet. “Or Sol at least.”

“I don’t know how you’d be able to see it from this far away, even without all the trees in the way?”

“Oh I don’t need to see it, just… feel it.”

“Feel it?”

Violet pursed their lips thoughtfully. “It’s hard to explain, I think being able to open Boom-Tubes across the galaxy just gives me… what does Harper call it, a ‘freaky good sense of direction’?”

Adora shrugged. “Makes sense.”

Violet closed their eyes, awaiting that soft imperceptible tug…

There.

Violet laid out a thin prayer mat, aligning it with their unseen homeworld before turning back. “Would you mind watching over me?”

“Sure,” answered Adora. “Though I gotta admit, I don’t really understand what this whole… ritual is about.”

“It’s a long story,” said Violet softly. “About fourteen centuries long.”

Adora propped herself up against an adjacent tree. “Maybe you can tell me more about it when all this is over?”

Violet smiled. “Maybe I will.”

*

IRON MOUNTAINS

OCTOBER 15, 17:02 UCT

"Though we go forth alone, our soul unites us under Rao's gladsome rays,” Kara Zor-El muttered low beneath the gaze of the scarlet sun. “We are never lost, never afraid. For we shrink not under the Sun of… of…”

Dammit, she hadn’t done this in over four decades. How did it go?

“The Sun of Righteousness. Rao binds us to those we love. He gives us strength when we have none. And in the darkest places, He… He... UGH, this is dumb!”

She glared up at the distant orb, smoldering dimly in the starry night.

“You’re not Rao. Rao is dead.”

She rose from her knees, dusting herself off before turning back to the armed camp nestled in the rust-purple foothills of the Iron Mountains.

“Time I start standing on my own feet.”

*

Kyle’s stringy muscles heaved as he tried to pry a steel tent-peg from the rocky ground. The steel peg finally came loose with a pop, nearly braining the young rebel.

“Oh, man,” he groaned, lying in the purple dust.

Conner Kent spotted him from across the main path of the rebel camp. “Hey do you need help with th-”

The lizard-man Rogelio was already kneeling by the prone youth’s side, and shooting the half-Kryptonian a dirty look.

“Nevermind,” Conner muttered to himself, turning only to nearly bump into his cousin. “Hey Kara… Is everything alright?”

“I’m fine,” sighed Kara. “I just need a minute.”

“You sure?”

The Krypteen only nodded, before hurrying off. Conner internally debated going after her.

“Superboy?”

Conner turned to find Hordak looming behind him, the familiar blue imp perched on his shoulder. The former Horde lord’s pale chiropteran face was impassive and unreadable. “Will you walk with me?”

“Uh… sure.”

They made their way through the rebel camp, Horde clones and former Horde Troopers - original winged insignias scratched from their armor - were rapidly disassembling structures of canvas and portable fortifications. Conner’s psychic-education at Project Cadmus had included a thorough grounding in Earth’s military history. (No prize for guessing whose idea that was.) He couldn’t help thinking of the forts used by the Roman Legions.

“Are all your rebels former Horde members?” Conner asked.

“Few others were willing to trust me,” Hordak answered. “I… have a history.”

“Don’t we all?”

“I wanted to speak with you before we broke camp.”

“About what?”

“Back on Earth, are there many of… our kind?”

“Our kind?” Conner’s brow furrowed before it hit him. “You mean clones, don’t you?”

Hordak nodded.

Conner thought of the other Harper brothers; Will and Jim, as well as the Genomorphs of Germanium City, but those weren’t his secrets to tell.

“A few,” he answered.

“Should we survive the coming battle, you would be welcome on Beast Island.”

Conner was a bit taken aback by the Rebel Leader’s forwardness. “I appreciate the offer, Hordak, I really do. But I have a whole life back on Earth. Besides…”

Kalibak lumbered passed, lugging an entire crate of ammunition on his broad shoulders. He paused briefly to shoot Conner an ugly glare before lumbering on.

“I’m not sure that would work out,” said Conner.

“Understandable,” sighed Hordak.

“But I might know a few folks back on Earth who’d be interested.”

“That would be agreeable, if we survive what comes ne-” Hordak’s long pointed-ears suddenly cocked.

“GET DOWN!!”

The rebel leader tackled Conner to the ground as an exploding shell flattened the semi-deconstructed barracks behind them.

*

Rattlor perched atop a night black Destructo-Tank, watching smoke rise from the rebel camp in the valley below. “Well that should shake the soft-skins up a bit. Eh, lads?” His lips peeled back in a cruel leer, raising a pair of technoculars to survey the fruits of his labors.

The enemy camp was in chaos, rebels racing back and forth, desperately trying to stem the spreading fires.

“Shall we ready another volley, General?” asked the gunner from inside the tank.

Rattlor was about to reply when his eyes alighted on a sight that boiled his cold blood. One of the rebels, a lanky ape-boy with a mop of blonde hair had been injured in the blast. He was being carried to what Rattlor presumed was the med-tent by a burly green-scaled lizard man. There was no mistaking the tender concern with which he held the limp mammal.

“General?”

The technoculars cracked in Rattlor’s grip.

“Alert all Troopers,” he hissed viciously. “Prepare for close assault.”

*

A tinnitus ring drowned out all sound, while billowing black smoke stung Conner’s eyes and choked his throat. There was a metallic tang on his lips. Blood. His blood.

“Superboy… Superboy?!”

The voice was thin and distant, barely audible over the tinnitus whine. Conner didn’t even realize it was coming from right beside him until he looked up into Hordak’s green-bruised face.

“Are you uninjured?” Hordak asked. “Can you stand?”

“I think so,” groaned Superboy, staggering to his feet with Hordak’s help, wiping blood from his split lip. “Though I’m really missing that Kryptonian invulnerability right now. What happened?”

 “An attack, we need to regroup at th-”

“MOVE!!!”

Conner shoved Hordak aside as three ebon plated figures came charging out of the billowing smoke. Conner fell back on his combat training as the first Snake Trooper took a swipe at him with a crackling electro-staff, diving under the weapon’s sizzling arc. The Snake Trooper spun around, taking another swing with her staff. Conner managed to grab the weapon by its insulated handle.

“I really hate monkeys!” the Snake Trooper hissed, glaring at Conner over the bar of the weapon they were both struggling over.

“Not cool, lady! Some of my best friends are monkeys!”

Conner abruptly rolled backward, turning the Snake Trooper’s own momentum against her, flipping the armored ophidian over his head. The electro-staff came slipping from her fingers as she went tumbling into the remains of the barracks tent, becoming hopelessly tangled in guidelines and heavy canvas.

Conner looked about. “Hordak, are you?”

"WHERE IS SHE?!?!"

"Whoa!" Conner narrowly ducked as another Snake Trooper went flying just over his head.

Hordak's exoskeleton whirred as he hefted the last Snake Trooper by his throat.

"Tell me what your master has done with Entrapta?!" Hordak snarled.

The hapless ophidian let out a desperate rasping wheeze as Hordak's talons clenched his wind pipe.

"NOW, WORM!! Before I begin peeling the scales from your misbegotten flesh, one by-"

"HORDAK!" Conner snapped, grabbing the rebel leader's arm. "Put him down!"

The Snake Trooper's yellow eyes began to roll back in his skull.

"HORDAK!" Imp echoed from Hordak’s shoulder, perfectly mimicking Conner’s voice.

Hordak snorted in disdain, hurling the gasping ophidian to the dust. The former Horde Lord took a moment to recompose his icy veneer. "Excuse my outburst."

"Nearly murdering a helpless man is more than an 'outburst'!"

"I wonder, Superboy,” Hordak's crimson eyes locked with Conner's. “If you would be so sanguine if it was the love of your life in the coils of these reptiles?"

*

“YAOW!” Kyle recoiled in terror from the sudden pain.

“Seriously, Kyle?” Lonnie sighed. “Can you not stand still for five minutes!?”

“But it stings,” whimpered Kyle.

“It’s antiseptic, it’s supposed to sting!” Lonnie countered, pursing her lips. “Roghelio, hold our boyfriend down so I can dress his wound.”

The lizard man grunted, before gently pinning Kyle to the gurney.

A low droning hum started to rise in the distance.

“Another explosion?” Kyle asked.

“No…” Lonnie spoke. “Whatever it is… it’s getting closer.”

Closer…

Then…

Silence.

Lonnie turned to Kyle and Roghelio, her lips silently forming the words ‘stay here’. She rose quietly, drawing the stun-baton holstered at her side.  She crept toward the med-tent’s flap, gingerly drawing back the loosely hanging canvas with the tip of her weapon.

A long pole was suddenly thrust through the opening, its crackling tip jabbing Lonnie in the abdomen.

“GAAGH!” Lonnie cried, buckling to the dirt floor as her muscles seized up in agony.

“LONNIE?!” Kyle yelled.

A broad shouldered, rust scaled serpent man came striding through the tent flap, stepping over the prone Lonnie and flanked by three ebon-plated Snake Troopers.

“You rebels simply must upgrade to shock-staffs,” he drawled with a sardonic twang, brandishing his crackling weapon. “Much longer reach.”

“Force Captain Rattlor?!” Kyle blurted.

“That’s General Rattlor to you, ape!”

Roghelio’s lips peeled back in a fanged snarl as he placed himself between the interlopers and Kyle’s gurney.

Rattlor’s eyes narrowed in pure disgust. “If there’s one thing I despise more than a mammal, it’s a mammal lover.”

Roghelio lunged forward with a fanged roar, only to be stunned by a glancing blow from Rattlor's shock-staff, followed by a clawed fist to his stomach. The burly saurian buckled over in agony.

"Hold him!" Rattlor barked. Two more Snake Troopers restrained the stunned Roghelio. Rattlor turned back to Kyle, paralysed with fear. The General drew a broad bladed flaying knife from his belt.

"I want him to watch."

*

"Kof-Kon? Kon-El!?" Kara's lungs were burning as she waded through the choking smoke. "Is any one-"

The hairs on the back of her head stood on end as she picked up a droning hum. Instinctively, she threw herself down behind a lump of debris as the ominous drone closed in.

It cut through the billowing smoke like an oceanic predator through the inky deeps, its armored hull a polished black. From her vantage point, Kara watched as the dark hover-tank halted in front of the camp's med-tent, before disgorging a rust-scaled serpent man, flanked by three ebon-plated Snake Troopers.

The lead ophidian stalked toward the med-tent’s fluttering flap, shock-staff in hand. As the tent flap gingerly drew back, he activated his weapon, viciously thrusting the crackling tip through the aperture. Inside, someone cried out in pain, as the ophidians stormed the tent’s entrance.

Kara crept her way carefully to the tent flap, peering in. One of the Snake Troopers had his boot pressed to the neck of the dark-skinned rebel girl, two more were restraining the snarling lizard boy. The rust-scaled serpent man turned to the pale boy (Klein or something like that) paralysed on the gurney, drawing a broad bladed flensing knife from his belt.

The Krypteen had seen enough, she rushed the Snake Trooper pinning Lonnie. Before the ophidian could even turn, Kara drove her boot into back of his knee. He let out a high-pitch scream before being brutally silenced by a Kryptonian elbow impacting with enough force to crack his helm’s opaque visor.

"KILL HER, YOU IDOITS!!!" Rattlor roared.

One of the Snake Troopers restraining Roghelio tried to grab Kara, pinning her arms to her side. Unlike his comrade, this serpent man hadn't the foresight to go helmed. Kara cocked back her head like the hammer of a gun before bringing down in a savage head-butt, crumpling the ophidian's snout.

Big Barda would have been proud.

Roghelio took advantage of the chaos to throw off the remaining Snake Trooper before hurling himself at Rattlor like a rabid snapgator. The saurian’s jaws clamped down tight upon the back of the ophidian’s neck.

“DISEASED APE-FUCKER!!” Rattlor shrieked as the two reptile trashed savagely. “I’LL GUT YOUR MAMMAL WHOR-”

Roghelio silenced Rattlor, with one savage wrench of his awful jaws…

*

WHISPERING WOODS

OCTOBER 15, 20:21 UCT

SNAP!

Sssqueeze looked down at the broken twig beneath her heavy boot. The burly-armed serpent woman shrugged sheepishly. “Sorry.

“Oh, it'sss all right, sssweetie,” cooed Snake Face, kneeling to examine the faint trail in the undergrowth. Her face was unreadable behind her featureless white mask, every inch of her scaled-skin hidden beneath a hooded bodysuit. “I know you're doing your bessst. Not like thessse other two clodsss!”

The two Snake Troopers standing at the edge of the clearing exchanged a hesitant look. “Ma'am?”

“You heard her!” Sssqueeze snapped, rounding on the hapless Troopers. “We're lucky half the Woods don't hear us coming with you two clanking about like a pair o' faulty bots! Why the General insisted we take two wet-behind-the-scales hatchlings with us, I'll never figger. Right, hun?”

Sssqueeze turned to find her partner had vanished from sight. “Hun? C'mon, hun, this ain't funny!”

There was no response, save for the ceaseless murmur of the Woods themselves

“Fan out! I want her fou-” Sssqueeze turned again, only to find the two Snake Troopers had likewise disappeared.

She backed away cautiously, until she bumped into something large, chitinous and... breathing?

Sssqueeze spun around, she'd barely caught sight of a bestial three-eyed visage before a club-like paw came down on her skull.

*

Sssqueeze's eye membranes nictated sluggishly as she resurfaced back to consciousness. A wedge-shaped face with lime-green scales and slitted yellow eyes glared back at her. It took her a few moments to realize the face was her own.

“Mother of Serpos!”

Sssqueeze attempted to recoil from her doppelganger, only to find herself bound - ankles and wrists - by thick vines within a dimly lit hovel.

“Who are you!?” she demanded, trying to flex her way out of the constricting vines. Her brain felt... soupy. Snake Face and the two Troopers were similarly bound to either side of her, stripped down to their skivvies and still unconscious. “What's going on!?”

“Sorry, 'fraid we don't have time for a recap,” spoke a yellow-haired primate girl dressed in Snake Face's bodysuit. She pulled up the dark hood and affixed the featureless white mask, utterly concealing her mammalian features. “Got what you need, Miss M?”

“Just about, Tigress,” answered Other-Sssqueeze. “There.”

Sssqueeze felt the pressure in her brain ease, as though her skull was suddenly less crowded. “Wha... what the heck was that?”

“Nothing too invasive,” replied Other-Sssqueeze, rising to her full height. “Just enough to bluff our way into Dark Moon.”

“It'll have to do,” said Not-Snake Face. “Halo, Adora, you ready with that Trooper armor?”

Adora, She-Ra, Destroyer of the Horde? Sssqueeze's blood ran even colder, mind summoning images of an avenging warrior-goddess, wielding a blazing sword of scouring star-fire.

“Eeeh, not exactly,” squeaked a scrawny ape-girl with dirty-blonde hair and a high-shouldered red jacket. She and her hooded companion were being held at bay by a stunted old forest-woman swinging a ratty broom.

“Away, both of you!” The crone shrieked.

“Razz won't let us near the armor,” spoke the one called Halo. “She's being very insistent.”

“This armor is dangerous,” hissed Razz. “Tainted.”

“What do you mean 'tainted'?” Not-Snake Face asked.

“It reeks of dark magic,” Razz spat, quite literally, hacking a glob at the offending ebon-plate.

“You!” Not-Snake Face rounded on Sssqueeze. “What did Eclipso do to the Snake Trooper armor?!”

“I ain't saying nothing!” Sssqueeze snapped back, not that she could have even if she wanted to.

“She doesn't know,” spoke Other-Sssqueeze. “She and her partner are more like independent contractors than official members of Dark Moon's forces. They were never issued any of the standard Snake Trooper kit.”

“What!?” Sssqueeze blurted. “How in Serpos' cloaca do you even know that!?”

Other-Sssqueeze smirked. “Lucky guess,”

Not-Snake Face’ eyes narrowed. “We better not take any chances then.”

*

Miss Martian (still wearing Sssqueeze's shape) dumped the Snake Trooper armor in a deep pit not far from Razz's hut before telekinetically sealing it with a large boulder. “That should do it.”

Tigress (likewise wearing Snake Face's white mask and dark bodysuit) turned to Adora and Halo. “You sure Razz will be able to handle the snakes?”

“Oh, definitely,” Adora answered. “Razz is tougher than she looks. If they give her trouble, she can just threaten to feed them more spoo.”

<You should have let me kill them,> M'comm interjected, his pale spindly form emerging from the wooded shade.

M'gann glared at her brother. <We don't do that.>

M'comm regarded her knowingly. <Really?>

M'gann's eyes narrowed warningly. <Really.>

Tigress appraised Adora and Halo. “Without the Trooper armor we're going to have to improv something for you two.”

“While you work on that, I need to go psychically teach Razz English before we leave.”

“But Razz already knows how to speak English?” Halo asked bemusedly. “She has since she first met us.”

“Razzes mind works non-linearly,” explained Miss Martian. “She won't know how to speak it back then unless I teach it to her now.”

“Okaaay…” Halo's brow furrowed, unsure they were really following. “But why now, why not when we come back?”

Miss Martian shot Halo a somber look. That they did follow.

“Oh.”

*

CASTLE DARK MOON

OCTOBER 15, 23:16 UCT

Catra had no idea how long she'd been here, how long since she, Bow and the Twiggit Elder Sprag had been left to rot in the bare cubic cell their captors sardonically called the 'Guest Room'. Night and day had no meaning in the dreary gloom. As Catra lay on the cold unyielding floor, some morbid part of her began to wonder if she'd always been here? Maybe the world of light and love beyond these adamantine walls was just some happy dream? Maybe she'd finally woken up to the only reality there ever was?

She hissed reflexively as hateful light invaded the stygian cell, stinging her blue/yellow eyes. Bow and Sprag likewise bolted upright.

Barbara Minerva stood silhouetted in a doorway of searing white, three inhibitor collars rested in the were-cheetah's clawed hands.

“It's time,” she purred wickedly.

*

Sligguth was bored. Bored, tired and annoyed. The Great Work was only hours from consummation and where was he? Guarding the gates of Castle Dark Moon... again. Who would be stupid enough to try attacking a fortress occupied by a nigh-omnipotent cosmic entity anyway? This was just more pointless busy work. The others were always looking for excuses to pick on him.

He was shaken out of his self-pitying reverie by a low rumble. He squinted as an Attak Trak came rolling over the ash-dunes. The hardy all-terrain vehicle kicked up a powdery white dust-cloud in its wake. He recognized it as belonging to the mercenary pair the General employed as slave catchers. He grumbled under his breath, waving them down.

The Attak Trak ground to a halt. A burly-armed serpent woman leaned out of the driver's side of the cockpit, throwing Sligguth a wink. “Howdy, darling?

“Name?” Sligguth replied in clipped tones, lifting his data-pad.

“Ah don’t be so formal, Sliggy,” said Sssqueeze. “Ya know us well enough by now.”

Sligguth hated that stupid nickname and she knew it, but he bit back his annoyance. Snake Face was sitting in the passenger seat of the Attak Trak, oddly quiet. Usually she’d happily join in on the teasing.

“What’s wrong with her?”

“Cat got her tongue.”

Sligguth shook his head, logging their names. He really didn’t have the patience for this today. “Cargo?”

“Just one stray Martian and a couple o' damn dirty apes.”

Sligguth circled the Attak Trak’s heavily armored trailer, sliding back a small panel to peer within. Sure enough, the renegade Martian crouched on the cold metal floor. His burnt limbs and tattered rags drawn close about his large ungainly form in the trailer’s cramped confines. Two warmbloods huddled in the dismal interior, clad in the dirty rags. All three prisoners had cumbersome blinking inhibitor collars clamped tight about their necks.

“Toss the primates in the pens with the rest,” said Sligguth, slamming the slide closed.

“And the Martian?” Sssqueeze asked, oddly guarded.

“Take him to the outer courtyard.” Sligguth shot her a fanged grin. “Lord Eclipso has something special planned for him.”

*

Catra lurched forward, falling to her knees as Minerva gave another sadistic yank to the chain hooked to her already achingly heavy inhibitor collar.

Minerva smirked. “Oopsies!”

Catra refuse to give her the satisfaction of a response. Not that she could have had she wanted to. First thing the guard accompanying Minerva had done after tightening the inhibitor collars about the prisoners’ necks was fasten a gagging muzzle to Catra’s mouth. He was lucky she hadn't bit off a finger.

The second thing the guard had done was sock Bow right across the face, seemingly just for the sheer spiteful thrill of it.

The outer courtyard was thronging with Snake Troopers in silent rows, far too many to take on even if they hadn’t been manacled. Dwarfing them all, loomed the ebon edifice of Dark Moon itself, encircled by the titanic mechanized halo of Eclipso’s ‘Great Work’; the portal that would end all existence at any moment.

High above, the sapphire blue moon of Kelkar was rapidly darkening as it began to eclipse the red sun.

Bow and Sprag were thrown down to their knees beside her, similarly bound, collared and gagged. The master archer was now sporting a fresh purple bruise directly beneath his left eye.

The elite Serpent Guard of Dark Moon stood in a still circle about a central dais, keeping their usual silent vigil. Silent, that is, until they began to raise their sonorous voices in a low wordless dirge.

Within moments, every ophidian in the great courtyard had taken up the baleful melody as a figure slowly descended from the starry sky above, clothed in flowing night. Eyes empty as the void looked down on the bound prisoners with cold disdain. The thing wearing Glimmer’s flesh flashed its captives a cold grin.

“Hello… Horde Scum.”

*

Entrapta couldn’t breathe.

Almost everyone of Etheria’s many races where represented in the tightly packed slave-pens that now filled the bowls of Dark Moon. Felinids, Horde clones, myconids, fauns, taurans, sea-elves, even a few saurians and ophidians who had been deemed 'impure' (whatever that meant) by General Rattlor. Everyone was scared, everyone was angry.

“Why haven’t they let us out?! We finished their stupid machine for them!”

“They’re saving us for the victory feast!”

“Why is the Queen allowing this?!”

“Can’t trust the scalies!”

“They have to let us out, right?!”

“They’ll swallow us whole!”

Everything was too close, too bright, too loud. Entrapta was going to scream. She was going to scream and flail and breakdown crying and make everything worse and everyone would hate her and-

Delicate talons gently squeezed Entrapta’s fingers.

“It’s alright, sister,” Wrong Hordak whispered.

She smooshed her face into his chest as he wrapped his arms around her, muffling the noise in warm darkness.

“We will endure, sister,” Wrong Hordak murmured softly. “No tyrant can rule forever. Above all else, we must outlive them.”

He didn’t know about the portal. Didn’t know that soon they would all cease to exist. “But…”

“But what, sister?”

“Nothing,” she muttered weakly. “Just hold me until… Just hold me.”

The heavy iron grill that marked the only entrance in or out of the slave pen groaned open before two ragged figures were roughly shoved inside. They hit the dirt floor, choking on the dust. The first was a dark-skinned youth wearing a tattered headscarf. The other was a girl with short-cropped dirty-blonde hair.

Entrapta was about to squeal before Adora locked eyes with her, placing a finger to her lips.

*

“Oh how we have missed you, our dear friends,” Eclipso loomed over the bound captives, her half shaded face twisting in a cruel leer. “Especially you, our dear sweet Beau.” She cradled Bow's face with fingers gloved in black velvet.

He recoiled from the coldness of her touch.

“Now, now, my sweet, no need to be so co-” Eclipso's pit-like gaze paused on the purplish bruise under Bow's left eye. Her leer instantly straightening. “Who did this...?” she spoke levelly, before rounding on the assembled Snake Troopers. “Who. Did. This?”

Minerva nudged forward the guard who had accompanied her to the cell, a lanky blue-scaled private. Eclipso's void-black eyes pierced him.

“Explain.”

“Well... uh... My Lord, the prisoner was acting up...” The guard made an armored fist. “So I socked him on th-RRK!”

Blood dribbled from the guard's scaled lips. He gazed down at the blade of unlight piercing his chest armor. It was the very last thing he saw before he slumped to the cold ebon marble.

The rest of the Snake Troopers stood in stunned silence about the fallen body, as Eclipso withdrew the immaterial blade with a gesture.

“We said the boy was not to be touched, and we expect our commandments to be obeyed to the letter.” She turned to an ophidian Lieutenant, whose fanged jaw still hung in mute shock. “Are we understood?”

“I... y-yes, my Lord,” the Lieutenant stammered, collecting herself. “It won't happen again.”

Catra's mind raced as she watched the whole horrid tragedy play out. Could there still be some faint twinkling of Glimmer's humanity left within Eclipso, or did the Darkling Queen have some more sinister motive for wanting Bow unharmed?

“Ah, good,” Eclipso trilled. “One more guest.”

Two figures, garbed like Crimson Waste mercenaries, came dragging a tall spindly figure behind them. He was wrapped in tattered shreds, green-tinted pus oozed from charred sores all over his ash-white skin. His over-sized cranium bent and stooped by the equally oversized inhibitor collar clasped about his neck.

M'comm? Catra thought.

The Martian seemed to shoot her a look before his thin legs finally collapsed beneath him. The bounty hunters dragged him the rest of the way, throwing his broken form to the marble next to Catra.

“In a way, we're glad you're still live, Ma'alefa'ak,” spoke Eclipso. “After all you're contributions, you deserve to be here and bear witness to the consummation of the Great Work.” She smiled with sweet venom. “Your people will be so proud.”

M'comm made no response, not that he should have been able to with a fully functional inhibitor collar blocking his telepathy. He simply lay upon the black marble, his will seemingly broken.

“You are dismissed,” Eclipso spoke curtly, addressing the mercenaries.

They bowed respectfully before withdrawing to join the assembled ranks.

“Now, let the ceremonies begin,” spoke Eclipso, ascending her dais.

This is it, thought Catra, her heart was drowning in despair. All reality was going to die at any moment and she’d never see Adora again. What am I supposed to do now?

<Be ready,> answered M’comm.

*

“Are we being watched?” Adora mouthed quietly.

Entrapta shook her head. She would know, she’d kept herself sane by checking every single cleft in the stone walls for hidden surveillance devices sixteen times over.

“Good,” Adora turned to her companion. “Halo, do Entrapta first.”

“On it.” Halo nodded, unclasping their inhibitor collar. The tip of their finger glowed bright-yellow.

Entrapta's eyes lit up with curiosity. “Oooh, how do you do that?”

“You know, I've never been exactly sure,” answered Halo thoughtfully, pressing their glowing finger-tip to the clasp of Entrapta's collar. “But stand still.”

Sparks shot from the mechanism before it clattered to the dirt at Entrapta's feet.

“Now for everyone else,” whispered Halo, turning to the rest of the huddled collared captives.

“Oh, I can handle that,” Entrapta grinned giddily as her purple tresses suddenly leaped back to life.

*

“Sadly, General Rattlor could not be with us at this glorious moment of transcendence,” Eclipso spoke over the assembled ranks, her eerily twinned voices reverberating across the courtyard. “But we believe he left a few words with the Lieutenant?”

“Thank you, my Lord,” the ophidian Lieutenant bowed before stepping forward, having recollected herself. “Children of Serpos, you all know our people’s history! Before Princesses, before the so-called ‘First Ones, before even She-Ra, we ruled this world! We built purple-towered cities that stood for millennia while the mammals still huddled in their diseased nests! As it was, so shall it be again! Just as Lord Eclipso sheds her corporeal flesh to ascend to her new role as God of the New Cosmos, so shall we ascend to become masters of a new purified Etheria!”

The Lieutenant struck her ebon breast plate with a mailed fist before raising her arm in a stiff salute. “Cold blood runs pure!”

The assembled ranks of Snake Troopers mirrored her salute, echoing her cry in a thunderous echo. “Cold blood runs pure!”

“Such a delightful people,” mused Eclipso.

Minerva’s whiskered nosed crinkled in distaste. “I hope you realize I fully expect to be back on Earth when the dust settles?”

“Oh don’t worry, Minerva, we’re getting exactly what we want tonight.” Eclipso descended from the dais, standing over the prisoners. “We hope you realize, Catra, this would never even have occurred to us had we not seen your original portal in Glimmer’s memory…” She bent low to whisper in Catra’s pointed ear…

“All of this is your fault.”

In an instant, faster than any eye could track, M’comm’s body was flowing like milk. His collar and manacles clattered uselessly to the ebon marble as his long fingered hand morphed into a jagged bony spear.

<DIE, TYRANT!>

He thrust the bone spear with all his might. It was only centimetres from Eclipso’s bare throat when it was suddenly arrested by a tendril of coiling unlight.

The Martian’s skull-like visage somehow went even paler as the Darkling Queen turned her abyssal glare upon him. A flick of the immaterial tendril sent him hurling bodily across the ebon marble, tumbling to a halt at the feet of the two mercenaries that had brought him in.

“Midnight approaches, the final dance begins…” intoned Eclipso, glaring directly at the two interlopers. “Now is the time to lay aside all disguise.”

“We’ve been made!” cried the white-masked mercenary with what was unmistakably Tigress’ voice, drawing twin crossbows. <Miss M!>

<Way ahead of you!> the burly serpent woman threw up her broad arms, sending the surrounding Snake Troopers flying back with a wave of telekinetic force. <But that won’t hold them back for long!>

<Let them come then!> M’comm coiled on all fours, ash-white skin turning dusky red, spindly arms swelling into hulking taloned forepaws. He let out a bestial roar from slavering, bone-crunching jaws as he finally assumed the form of his homeworld’s most vicious predator. <Come, bootlicks! Come and die beneath the claws of the Ma’alefa’ak!>

<M’comm, can we please tone down all the die talk?> Miss Martian chided.

 “Oh, you’ll all do more than talk,” rasped Eclipso. “Kill them all!”

The Snake Troopers were already amassing on their prey when the black marble suddenly erupted beneath their feet in a blast of yellow light. A bright orange streak shot out of the opening, peppering the Troopers with yet more blasts of yellow. It was quickly followed by a blurring cackling mass of motile purple tresses that lashed back and forth with whipcrack speed, sending yet more Troopers flying.

“Hope we didn’t keep you waiting?!” Halo called.

“Timing couldn’t be better!” Tigress called back.

<Now’s our chance!> the Ma’alefa’ak crowed. <We must press ou-> He was cut-off as Minerva pounced upon him with a howling screech, ma’alefa’ak and were-cheetah lost in a snarling flurry of fang and claw.

<M’comm!> Miss Martian cried.

“Mortals,” Eclipso sighed in exasperation at the rapidly escalating bedlam before turning to the still bound Catra. “It seems keeping you alive is a luxury we can no longer afford.” The Darkling Queen raised her hand, summoning the unlight to herself, shaping it into a wickedly curved ebon scythe.

“Goodbye, Horde Scum.”

Bow and Sprag tried to cry out through their muffling gags, Bow’s brown eyes pleading with the creature that had once been the love of his life. All Catra could do was screw her eyes tight as the scything blade came whistling down...

And then stopped.

Catra warily pried open her yellow eye, only to find the Darkling Queen’s void blade had been parried by one of pure starlight. Catra’s heart swelled when she realized that standing between her and Eclipso was a radiant, valkyriesque figure.

“Get the FUCK away from her!” She-Ra roared.

Eclipso recoiled like a struck cat, retreating into the inky sky, well beyond the reach of the Princess of Power.

She-Ra wasted no time taking advantage of the reprieve, turning back to her bound friends. “Hold on.” She sliced through Catra, Bow and Sprag’s shackles.

“Thanks, babe, I- whoa!” Catra was cut off as She-Ra lifted her bodily from her bare feet before planting the most passionate kiss she could remember receiving since… well she wasn’t sure when. Her brain was kind of ‘checked out’ at the moment.

“Sorry,” said She-Ra, finally letting her girlfriend come up for air.

“Wut…?” Catra answered, blushing and grinning almost tipsily. “No it’s fine, I just don’t think I’ve ever kissed you while you were She-Ra before. It’s tingly.”

She-Ra blushed too before turning to Bow, tossing him the duffle bag slung over her shoulders. “I managed to swing by Glimmer’s private armory, at least that’s mostly the same.”

Bow unzipped the duffle bag, withdrawing his namesake weapon and a quiver full of trick-arrows. “My babies!” he squeed, hugging his armaments close.

“You always were so easily pleased, Beau.”

The Best Friend Squad were suddenly encircled by a ring of shifting unlight, cutting them off from the brawling Earth heroes, Snake Troopers and Entrapta alike. The three Etherians formed up, back-to-back, weapons and claws held high as the curtain of darkness formed itself into a cruelly leering face… Glimmer’s face.

“The Champion, the Consort and the Companion…” Eclipso voice reverberated through the void. “The Eternal Cycle reaches fruition one last time.”

“Please, Glimmer, we don’t have to fight,” pleaded Bow. “She-Ra can heal you if you let her!”

“We are not the one who requires healing,” sneered Eclipso. “It's the cosmos that's infected, infected with the filth of Chaos! We shall make it pure ag-”

The Darkling Queen was drowned out by a sound like thunder shattering the cloudless sky above. It took Catra’s brain a moment to process that the deafening sound that almost split her skull in half had not been thunder at all.

It had been a word, just one single word…

“ENOUGH!!!”

*

WHISPERING WOODS

OCTOBER 15, 23:56 UCT

Melog paused at the edge of the Woods, looking out over the ash mounds surrounding Castle Dark Moon. Spiritina was at their side. Their other friend’s hulking form was still lurking shyly in the shadows of the dying trees. The feyline’s hackles rose at the sudden confluence of truly cosmic magics converging upon the darkling citadel.

Spiritina pointed out the golden star that had flared to life directly above Dark Moon just as the Red Eclipse was reaching totality. “What be that?”

Judgement, thought Melog.

*

CASTLE DARK MOON

OCTOBER 15, 23:57 UCT

Every combatant in the courtyard below stood transfixed as a new figure emerged from the shining ankh, their raiment of gold and azure no less radiant against the darkening sky.

“Traci?” Catra whispered in mute awe.

“This farce has been indulged long enough,” the Sorcerer Supreme’s voice again rolled like a peal of thunder. “It ends now!”

“Oh, spare us your melodramatic indignation, Little Ghost” Eclipso drawled, rising to meet the challenger. “You have no authority here. Your masters have forbidden you from interfering in our affairs. And we both know the penalty for defying the Host of Law.”

“There is a Law even higher than that of the Hosts, monster,” the sorcerer intoned. We serve the Holy Balance before all else. And in the name of the Balance, we offer you this one chance to surrender.”

Eclipso snorted derisively. “Not likely.”

“Then you leave us no choice,” The sorcerer’s eyes burned like molten gold behind their featureless helm. “For the sake of a universe entire, in the name of all that live…”

“FATE MUST INTERVENE!”

Chapter Text

ERROR  

Error 13, 6:66 DOA  

Oᴏᴏᴏʜ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴀs ᴀ ɴᴀsᴛʏ ᴏɴᴇ, ᴡᴀsɴ’ᴛ ɪᴛ? Gᴜᴇss ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ sᴀʏ ʏᴏᴜ sɴᴀᴘᴘᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴛᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ, ɴʏᴇʜ-ʜᴇʜ-ʜᴇʜ! Tʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ’ᴅ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴀᴛᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ, ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴀ ᴍɪʟɪᴛᴀʀʏ ᴍᴀɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀʟʟ, ᴀ ʀᴇᴀʟ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀ ᴏғ... sᴄᴀʀᴇ ᴛᴀᴄᴛɪᴄs! NYAHAHAHAHA! 

Yᴇs, ʏᴇs, I’ᴍ sᴜʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴏ̨ᴜᴇsᴛɪᴏɴs, ʏᴏᴜ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs ᴅᴏ. ‘Wʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀᴍ I?’  ‘Wʜᴏ ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ?’ ‘Wʜᴀᴛ’s ᴛʜᴀᴛ sᴍᴇʟʟ’? 

Wᴇʟʟ, ᴛᴏ ᴀɴsᴡᴇʀ ʏᴏᴜʀ ғɪʀsᴛ ᴏ̨ᴜᴇsᴛɪᴏɴ, ʏᴏᴜ’ᴠᴇ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴀʀʀɪᴠᴇᴅ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏsᴛ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴɪɴɢ ɢᴀᴍɪɴɢ ᴇsᴛᴀʙʟɪsʜᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴛʜɪs sɪᴅᴇ ᴏғ Eᴛᴇʀɴɪᴛʏ. Oʜ, I ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪᴛ’s ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ʙᴜᴛ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴡᴏʀʀʏ, ᴡᴇ’ʀᴇ ᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛɪɴɢ ᴀ ʀᴇᴀʟ ʙᴏᴏᴍ ɪɴ ʙᴜsɪɴᴇss ᴀɴʏ ᴍɪɴᴜᴛᴇ ɴᴏᴡ. 

Iɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴀɴᴛɪᴍᴇ… Cᴀʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴀ ᴡᴀɢᴇʀ? 

* 

CASTLE DARK MOON  

October 16, 00:00 UCT  

The red sun went utterly black, turning the skies of Etheria the hue of dry crusted blood. High above the darkling citadel of Dark Moon, golden lightning and ebon unlight clashed as Eclipso; Lord of Dark Moon, and Doctor Fate; Sorcerer Supreme of Earth, unleashed their full sorcerous wrath upon each other. Neither cosmic entity paid much heed to the effect their conflagration was having on the mortal combatants below. 

Tigress leapt aside as a chunk of onyx masonry came hurtling down into the courtyard, dislodged from the darkling fortress’ battlements by a stray eldritch bolt. Had her reflexes been a split second slower, it probably would have caved in her skull. 

Slowing down, Crock, she thought. Too much time sitting on your butt, grading papers.  

Across the courtyard, She-Ra, Catra and Bow stood back to back, the Twigget Elder Sprag cringing behind Bow’s leg. They were fending off a tightening circle of Eclipso’s silent and robed Serpent Guard. The whirling black blades of the Guard’s halberds gleamed wetly in the red light, as though already slick with blood. 

Closer to home, Miss Martian, Halo and Entrapta were holding off another wave of the common Snake Troopers with telekinetic force, crimson energy shields and whipping purple tresses. What the Troopers lacked in the Serpent Guard’s elite training and equipment, they more than made up for in numbers and sheer numbers. 

That just left M’comm M’orzz and Barbara Minerva. The ma’alefa’ak and the were-cheetah were still locked in a bloody duel of tooth and claw. If M’comm had gotten his bone-crushing jaws about Minerva’s neck, that would have ended the combat in a heartbeat. Easier said than done. For all its hideous strength, the ma’alefa’ak form had still evolved on Mars. In the higher gravity of Etheria, its movements were slow, sluggish, labored, like an animal wading through water. Minerva was speed itself, diving under swipes of the Martian’s club-like forepaws before opening fresh wet-green wounds along his exposed flank with her flashing claws. 

Tigress took all this in within a split second before the Snake Trooper Lieutenant tried to brain her from behind with her shock-staff. The Earth hero ducked under the crackling weapon before launching a sweeping kick behind her, cutting the ophidian’s legs out from under her. The Lieutenant hit the ground with a thud before Tigress’ fist sent her on an express trip to dreamland. 

“Rude,” muttered Tigress, shaking the sting out of her fingers. <Miss M, She-Ra, what’s the stitch?>  

<We’re holding out, for now,> answered Miss Martian. <But I don’t think we can keep this up indefinitely>  

<About the same here,> She-Ra followed up, barley dodging a Serpent Guard’s whirling blade. <YOW! These guys are pretty fast for all the armor and robes.>  

<We need to shift momentum while Fate has Eclipso engaged,> replied Tigress. <Try powering your way to the Portal and->  

Something fell from the sky like a blazing golden star. It shattered the black marble of the courtyard on impact, kicking up a shockwave that sent the scattered combatants reeling. 

Tigress’ throat went dry as the dust finally cleared. “Dear God…” 

Doctor Fate lay sprawled at the center of the newly formed crater, cracks radiating from their broken form like spider webs in the ebon marble. All fighting stopped, hero and Snake Trooper alike staring mutely at the sight of the fallen Lord of Order. For a moment, Fate seemed to stir before being pinned to the ground by a sable-heeled boot. 

Eclipso stood above him like a hunter posing over her kill, a cloak of iridescent raven feathers billowing about her, unlight radiating from the Black Diamond shard embedded in her clavicle. 

“We told you before that you should have stayed in your grave, Little Ghost,” Eclipso gloated over her prey, pale lips curling into a sadistic leer. “Guess we’ll just have to send you back there ourselves!”  

“TRACI!?!” Tigress raced forward, only to find herself cut-off by a fresh squad of Serpent Guard. 

She raised her twin crossbow, letting loose a flurry of bolts. They whizzed past the Serpent Guard’s plumed helms, only to freeze in mid-air mere inches from the Darkling Queen, before clattering harmlessly to the marble. 

“Well, you tried,” Eclispo shrugged, shooting Tigress a wicked smirk as she reached down and took Fate’s Helm in her velvet-gloved hands. 

“NOOOOOO!” Tigress screamed, and she was not alone. 

Traci Thurston, Nabu’s mortal host, shrieked in psychic agony as Eclipso physically tore the Helmet of Fate loose from her skull. The surge of sorcerous feedback unleashed would have instantly slain any mortal even attempting the same feat, but Eclipso merely waved it aside like a morning mist. 

Traci – gold and azure raiment reverting to her usual darkwear – fell back to the cold marble, her form still and insensate, eyes blank and empty. 

<Artemis!> Miss Martian’s desperation cut through everything else. <Traci’s mind is collapsing under the psychic trauma! I need to get to her NOW!>  

<She-Ra!> Tigress ordered. 

<On it!> She-Ra surged forward, her energy sword shifting into a mighty warhammer that sent the Serpent Guard surrounding Eclipso flying like bowling pins. The Darkling Queen recoiled from the Princess of Power like a struck viper, vanishing into a fold of darkness. 

Tigress and Miss Martian knelt by Traci’s side, the later hurriedly placing her fingertips to the fallen sorceress’s temples. 

“She looks so still,” murmured Tigress. “M’gann, can yo-” 

“Shut up, I need to concentrate!” Miss Martian snapped, eyes going blank as she sank into an impenetrable trance. 

High above the courtyard, Eclipso remerged from another fold of darkness, casually holding the Helmet of Fate. “Oh dear, did we break your pet witch?”  

“Glimmer, please!” She-Ra reached out, pleadingly. “Let me heal you! It’s the only way to end this!” 

“We will end this on our terms, Champion, not yours!” Eclipso snapped. “You cannot stymie our designs this time!”  

She-Ra’s brow furrowed. “ This time?” 

“In every aeon of eternity, on every plane of existence, the Holy Balance chooses a Champion to defend itself, a single soul incarnated again and again across time and space to maintain this farcical stalemate between Order and Chaos… until now.”  

“That… that’s not possible!” She-Ra stammered. “Me finding the Sword was an accident, just… dumb luck!” 

“There are no accidents, Champion! We are all slaves to our fate. Do you know the one thing every one of your incarnations has in common?” Eclipso’s pale lips curled in a cold grin. “In every aeon, on every plane… you die alone.”  

She-Ra tried to respond, finding no words. 

“Speaking of Fate and dying…” Eclipso turned her void-black gaze to the golden helm still in her hand.  Coils of unlight snaked between the eyeholes and into the thin crack in the faceplate… then began to pull. 

“Glimmer, STOP!” 

The metal helm held out longer than soft gold should have, but inevitably began to warp and buckle under the contorting pressure of the immaterial coils. The twisting metal let out a low whine disturbingly like a faded scream, like the echo of something that had already died long long ago. The rendered shards of the golden helm clattered useless to the courtyard, gleaming dully against the black marble 

“My God…” Tigress gasped, as the terrible enormity sank in. The Darkling Queen had just murdered to most powerful being on Earth. 

Eclipso’s inky gaze drifted northward, towards the Iron Mountains. A column of ebon-plated Destructo Tanks were rapidly gliding over the bone-white ash dunes. 

“Well, it seems General Rattlor will be joining us after all.” The Darkling Queen rose higher into the crimson sky, unlight coiling about her like a second cloak. “The Red Eclipse has reached totality and our power is at its zenith!”  

The unlight coiled up towards the ‘Great Work’, coiling about the titanic portal that encircled Castle Dark Moon like an iron halo. The immense mechanism began to hum to life, violet lightning arcing along its superstructure as Eclipso poured her own power into it. 

“Rejoice, Etheria!” Eclipso roared over the shrieking winds that had suddenly kicked up about her. “For we bring the bliss of oblivion to your world … TO ALL WORLDS!”  

Minerva briefly paused in her savage duel, pointed ears cocked worryingly. “Bloody hell does she mean ‘bliss of oblivion’?!” 

M’comm took advantage of the distraction to send Minerva flying with a swipe of his massive club-like forepaw. She hit a marble pillar hard before slumping unconscious to the floor. 

<I believe the Earth term is ‘sucker!’> M’comm sneered, his ma’alefa’ak form dipping in a mock curtsy. <Your ‘Ladyship’.>  

The winds began to pick up further speed. Across the courtyard, Entrapta tossed aside another pair of Snake Troopers before flipping up her welding mask. “We’re too late! The Portal’s about to go critical!” 

Arcs of violet unlight converged at the center of the iron ring. The very matter of Castle Dark Moon began to distort, time and space collapsing in on each other until… 

A bolt of plasma struck the Great Work, causing a section of the iron ring to come crashing into the stagnant lake beneath Dark Moon. 

“NOOOOO!” Eclipso shrieked in blind fury. “WHO DID THAT!?!”  

* 

ASH DUNES  

October 16, 00:16 UCT  

“WOOOOT! BLAMMO!” Kyle punched the air, manning the turret of the commandeered Destructo Tank, before quickly composing himself. “I mean, uh… direct hit, Commander Hordak, sir!” 

“Very good, Trooper,” intoned the Rebel leader flatly, overseeing the battlefield from atop the same war-machine. “Ready another volley!” 

“Hold your fire!” Conner Kent cried out, peering through a pair of technoculars. 

“Explain yourself, Superboy?” Hordak demanded. 

“See for yourself,” the Kryptonian answered, handing over the technoculars. 

Hordak peered through the lens, the HUD display zooming in on Dark Moon’s outer courtyard where some sort of battle was already in full swing. A figure wreathed in an orange aura streaked over the conflagration, while below a whirling mass of purple tresses juggled flailing Snake Troopers high in the air. 

Hordak’s breath caught in his throat. “Entrapta?” 

* 

CASTLE DARK MOON  

October 16, 00:18 UCT  

“WE DID IT, HALO! WE SAVED THE UNIVERSE!” Entrapta was leaping up and down in glee. So overcome with delight that she did not even notice the Snake Trooper creeping up on her until Halo sent him flying with a yellow blast. “Thanks!” 

“No problem,” answered Halo, hovering above. “But it’s not over y-” 

“AAAAAAAAAAARGH!”  

Eclipso shrieked across the courtyard, her face contorting violently, as though mortal flesh could not express the undying rage within. “You’ve saved nothing, wretch! All you’ve done is exchanged a swift extinction for a prolonged one!”  

Her hand reached for the Black Diamond shard embedded her clavicle. The gem gleamed darkly against her pale flesh as she began to chant low in an unrecognizable tongue. 

As one, every Serpent Guard and Snake Trooper across Dark Moon fell to their knees, hissing in agony. 

“Something’s wrong!” Halo cried, alighting next to one of the fallen ophidians. Strange runes were pulsing all across the Snake Troopers’s ebon plate armor, pulsing with a color even Halo could not identify. 

“Are you alright!?” Halo instinctively reached out to their fallen foe, hand wreathed in a violet aura. “Just hold still, I can-” 

The serpent man rolled over, scaled lips peeled back in a fanged grimace. Halo nearly recoiled before they realized the Snake Trooper’s expression was not one of hatred or aggression, but pain, terror and primal regret. 

"Bismillah!”  

Ophidian flesh and bone rapidly dissolved into inky liquid shadow before their eyes, pooling beneath hollow armor. Before Halo could react, the pool of shadow leaped to life, forming a predatory winged shape cut from pure void. All across the courtyard, every single Serpent Guard and Snake Trooper had repeated the same nightmarish metamorphosis. Only now did Halo fully understand Razz’s cryptic warnings about the Dark Moon armor. 

“Rise, my children!” Eclipso bellowed. “Rise and pick this misbegotten world clean! Kill them all! KILL EVERYTHING!”  

The winged Shadow Demons took to the air, swarming the blood-red skies. Half of them surged north, towards the ash dunes, as the rest swooped back down on the courtyard. 

* 

ASH DUNES  

October 16, 00:24 UCT  

“INCOMING!”  

Kyle ducked back into his turret as the first wave of Shadow Demons descended in a shrieking mass upon the Rebel force. 

Conner tackled Hordak to the ground as one of the winged shades came swooping down on the rebel commander. One of the other clones was not so fortunate, swept up into the blood-red sky by the unthing. 

“ZED!?!” Hordak roared impotently. 

Talons of pure darkness sank into the helpless Zed’s belly, releasing a gush of wet green ichor. The demon let Zed’s limp form fall to the dunes below, staining the white ash a slick wet jade. 

Hordak was inconsolable, screaming in rage and grief as he raised his arm-mounted particle canon to the sky and loosed one blazing energy blast after another into the demonic horde. 

* 

CASTLE DARK MOON  

October 16, 00:26 UCT  

She-Ra’s energy blade flashed again and again, each time slicing a Shadow Demon in twain, only for it to reform an instant later. “There’s too many of them, we have to fall back!” 

“We can’t risk moving Miss M and Thirteen!” Tigress barked back. “Also, close your eyes!” 

“Wh-?” 

Tigress fired a flashbang bolt directly into the heart of the shadow swarm, sending the demons reeling for a few moments. 

Across the courtyard, Halo was standing over the unconscious form of Barbara Minerva, fending off the rapacious swarm with a scarlet energy shield. 

The ma’alefa’ak took in the ensuing havoc in a single glance, making his decision. <Ma’al to this! You’re on your own, ‘heroes’!> He spun on his paws, loping down the shadowed archway leading into the heart of Dark Moon. 

“M’comm!” Catra cried, reaching after the fleeing ma’alefa’ak. 

“Catra, let him go!” Tigress barked. “He’s more trouble than he’s worth at this point!” 

“Bu-” 

“I said leave it!” 

Catra’s blue/yellow eyes hardened, before falling to all fours and giving chase to the fleeing Martian. 

“CATRA!?!” Tigress shook her head. “Uggh… What am I gonna do with that girl?” 

* 

ASH DUNES  

October 16, 00:28 UCT  

Kara Zor-El's muscles ached. It was not a sensation she was used to, or cared for, but she could not afford to let up now. Shadow Demons were surging thick as flies now. Only the crackling, whirling light of her commandeered shock-staff kept the unthings at bay. 

So frantic was the struggle that the Krypteen failed to notice one of the Shadow Demons drop to the ash behind her, snaking along the ground like liquid night. Kara turned just in time to see the unliving shade rearing back like a frost-serpent about to strike, but not nearly in time enough to defend herself. 

Yet before the Shadow Demon could make the kill, a crackling Apokoliptan Beta-Club came crashing down on the dark vestige. It shattered into dozens of wriggling fragments, retreating to the swarm above to reconstitute itself. 

Kara's rescuer turned to face her, his toadish face framed by a shaggy brown-black mane. She remembered that face well from her time on Apokolips; the face of Kalibak the Cruel. 

“GET AWAY FROM HER!”  

Kon-El threw himself between Kara and the Kalibak. If the Boy of Steel remembered that the Apokoliptan berserker could have crushed him like a bug under the red sun, he gave no sign of it. 

“Whoa, Kon-El, it's okay!” Kara blurted. “Kalibak was helping... I think.” 

The Son of Darkseid shot them both a sardonic lopsided grin. “You're welcome... runts.” 

Before Kon-El could respond, an ungodly din kicked up from the rear of the rebel formation, sending Etherian Troopers leaping to one side. 

‘Gangway!’ 

Kara pushed Kon-El aside as something like a panther composed of smoky light came bounding past them, a purple-furred lemur-like creature clinging to its sparkling mane for dear life. 

“Hey, wasn’t that Catra’s-” 

Kara was cut-off by a second barrelling shape, hot on the heels of the first, moving with a speed that belied its massive bulk. It was a thing of dull green armored plating, heaving pistons and flashing steel fangs. Its form was entirely mechanical, yet disturbingly familiar to Kara. She’d seen shapes like that stalking the streets and back alleys of Armagetto, hunting down and tearing apart the forsaken and helpless Lowlies of Apokolips. 

Kon-El was the first to speak. “That looked almost like an Apokoliptan cavalry dog?” 

“Yeah… if you tried making one out of spare parts,” Kara tossed a suspicious glare at Kalibak. 

“Don’t look at me,” he shrugged. 

Kara squinted; the mechanical hound had already overtaken the feyline. Both quadrupeds were bounding over the ash-dunes, making a beeline for the same destination. 

“They’re heading for Dark Moon!” 

“We need to get up there somehow,” said Kon-El. 

“Well, why didn’t you just ask?” Kalibak grinned, sweeping up both squirming Kryptonians under his trunk-like arms. 

“KALIBAK!?” Kon-El protested. “The hell do you think yo-” 

“Hold on tight, runts!” Kalibak laughed, taking two long bounding steps before launching himself (plus two screaming Kryptonians) into the blood red sky. 

* 

CASTLE DARK MOON  

October 16, 00:34 UCT  

Bow followed Tigress’ lead, launching a ‘starburst arrow’ into the ever-darkening swarm. He had originally intended it as a party trick, a surprise for Glimmer’s next birthday. The arrowhead exploded into a prismatic nova far above their heads. The Shadow Demons regrouped faster than before, swooping down on the assembled heroes. 

The master archer stumbled back, falling on the black marble. There was no time to leap to his feet, draw and arrow and ready his namesake weapon before the first wave of Shadow Demons zeroed in on him. 

“BOW!” She-Ra cried. 

Something leaped between Bow and the descending swarm, a hulking quadrupedal mechanized beast. It raised its open maw to the sky with a thunderous howl. 

BOOOOOM!  

It was too late for the swooping Shadow Demons to pull up or change direction before the fiery maw of the Boom Tube swallowed them. Still less time before the portal collapsed behind the unthings, stranding them forever in some desolate corner of the cosmos. 

Bow glared up in apprehension at the thing that had saved his life, its armor plated canid form turning to regard him with dully glowing crimson optics. It opened its steel-toothed maw, uttering only one single sound. 

Ting!  

“RELAY?!” Bow throwing his arms about the steel-corded neck of the mechanical war hound that had – last he knew - been a rogue Apokoliptan Fatherbox. 

“INCOMING!” Tigress cried, as something came hurling out of the bloody sky like a comet, crashing again into the black marble of the courtyard. 

Kalibak came lumbering out of the second crater, before casually dropping Conner and Kara to the ground, the latter of which immediately puked. 

“Uggh… that’s not nearly as much fun without super-strength,” groaned Conner, rubbing his throbbing head. “M’gann?!” He rushed to his wife’s side, fighting the urge to embrace her. 

“Careful,” interjected Tigress. “She’s…” 

“In a deep psychic trance,” Conner finished for her. 

Melog finally came bounding over the battlements, alighting in the courtyard, a young Twiggit clinging to their back. 

“Spiritina!?” Sprag snapped shrilly. 

“Oh, um, hello, Elder Sprag,” the young Twiggit replied hesitantly. “I ken this looks bad, but if ye’ll hear me ou-” 

The sour old Twigget cut her off with a tight teary-eyed embrace. 

“Ye mad gombeen,” he sobbed. 

High above, the shadow swarm began to re-coalesces as the heroes readied themselves for the next assault. Melog darted about, one thought on their mind… 

Where’s Catra?  

* 

M’comm had never been very good at density shifting. Of all a M’arzzan’s more exotic abilities, it required the most mental discipline, the most emotional stillness. Other species could never understand the agonizing degree of concentration needed to loosen the very molecular bonds of one’s corporeal form. He had read hoary legends of Y’ellonn mystics who had mastered the technique to such a degree as to totally slough off the binds of base flesh, becoming beings of pure luminous glory. 

If one believed in that sort of thing. 

M’comm, for his part, could barely manage to remain intangible for more than a few moments at a time. Which is why he was still in his ma’alefa’ak form, loping madly through the shadowed corridors of Dark Moon when Catra tackled him. 

He responded with a sibilant snarl and swipe of his massive club-like paw. The felinid dodged his clumsy blow, landing on the cold purple-veined marble, blocking M’comm’s path. Her blue/yellow eyes met his gaze with a hard steely glare. 

<Out of my way, furball!>  

“Not until you come back with me!” Catra retorted. 

<Not likely!> M’comm would have laughed if he’d had vocal chords. <You can go back up there and martyr yourself if you want. I just came here to smash the portal.>  

“Your sister is still up there!” Catra snapped. “You’re seriously going to leave her to die!?” 

<SHE LEFT ME!> The ma’alefa’ak surged forward, shrieking in rage. <She abandoned me for some… TV fantasy! Why should I care about her!?>  

“You tell me!” Catra leaped over the charging beast as it went careening into the polished ebon wall, landing with perfect poise. “‘Cuz I know one thing, you wouldn’t still be this pissed at her if you didn’t care!” 

<Don’t talk like you know me, Etherian!>  

“‘Know you’!? I used to be you!” Catra scoffed. “You really think you’re the first person to hurt so bad the only way they could think of making others understand was to hurt them back!? Join the fucking club!” 

<She hates me!>  

“You know that’s not true!” 

<She should!> He slumped to the cool marble, exhausted by the weight of his own bestial form, by the weight of everything. <I nearly exterminated most of my species.> His thoughts were weak, distant. <I tried to murder my own mother. What could I do to possibly make up for that!?>  

“Probably nothing,” Catra answered flatly. “But that doesn’t mean you get out of trying .” 

He would have smiled. <Blunt, I can respect that.>  

“Look,” Catra finally said after a long pause. “This may be a long shot but I have an idea.” 

* 

“I’m outta flashbangs!” Tigress yelled. She and her allies formed a tight perimeter about M’gann, Traci and the unconscious Minerva as the swarming Shadow Demons circled ever closer 

She-Ra, standing back to back with Tigress, rapidly molded her energy blade into a shimmering crossbow bolt before handing it off to the Earth hero. “Here!” 

“Bit unconventional but…” Tigress loaded the energy bolt into her crossbow, taking aim. 

The bolt seared into the heart of the shadow swarm above, going off like a supernova. For a moment, the shadows were driven back and the skies were clear, but only for a moment. 

“She-Ra, I need another shot!” Tigress cried. 

“Yeah, just gimme a min-” She-Ra staggered, her golden aura flickering. 

“Adora?!” 

Bow kneeled to catch his friend before she hit the marble. Adora’s knees wobbled as she reverted to her mortal form. 

“Perhaps we can still use her as a shield,” grunted Kalibak, earning him a death-glare from Superboy. “It was a joke!” 

At the center of the circle, the eldritch glow in Miss Martian’s eyes faded as her consciousness returned to the physical plane, massaging her temples. 

“M’gann!” Conner knelt at his wife’s side, throwing his arms around her. 

“Conner?!” M’gann blinked, returning the unexpected embrace. “How did you…?” 

The entire courtyard sank into darkness as the hissing, shrieking mass of Shadow Demons blotted out the entire sky, leaving only the shimmering light of Halo and Melog’s respective auras. 

“What’s happening?” Traci groaned as she heaved herself up right. “Did we win?” 

The curtain of darkness slowly parted, allowing the darkling form of Eclipso to descend slowly from the ebon skies. 

“I’m guessing ‘no’ then,” muttered Traci. 

There was a long silence as the heroes readied themselves for the Darkling Queen’s next onslaught, a silence finally broken by a slow sardonic clapping. 

“We suppose you’re all very pleased with yourselves?” Eclipso drawled. “We suppose you fancy yourselves martyrs, nobly sacrificing your sad lives for the salvation of the cosmos? Are we close?”  

“It’s over, Glimmer!” Tigress cried, taking aim with her last crossbow bolt. “We trashed your portal, it doesn’t matter what you do to us now!” 

“The Great Work was only a machine, and any machine can be rebuilt,” Eclipso’s abyssal gaze fell on Entrapta. “Is that not right, our little tinkerer?”  

“NO!” Entrapta yelled angrily. “I’ll die before I help you again!” 

“Poor deluded child,” Eclipso sighed pityingly. “Don’t you realize what we are offering you? We would grant every sentient creature in existence a taste of paradise, followed by the peace of eternal oblivion. Instead you selfishly choose to condemn this cosmos to a slow agonizing death in place of swift and merciful one.”  

“Spare me the entry level nihilism,” Tigress scoffed. “I get enough of it from my sophomores.” 

“’Tis no sophistry, Artemis Crock. ‘Tis an inexorable cosmic law, Entropy will claim you all one day. In the end, the last star will burn out and the last living creature will die cold and alone. And on that day, in the final twilight of the universe, they will curse you for allowing them to be born. But we are nothing if not magnanimous...” She raised her hand, shaping the darkness into a scythe of unlight. “We will grant you the mercy that you would deny the rest of Creation.”  

“SPARKLES!” 

Eclipso paused, casting her gaze across the courtyard, where Catra stood, alone, unarmed and totally exposed. “Hold that thought,” she intoned, casting a ring of unlight about the besieged heroes. 

“Catra!?” Adora groaned, still leaning on Bow, barely able to stand upright. “Get out of there!” 

“We’re impressed, Catra,” sneered Eclipso, looming over the lone felinid. “We didn’t think you had the sheer gall to show your face before us again.”  

“Let them go, Glimmer,” spoke Catra flatly. 

“And just why should we do that?”  

“Because they’re not the ones you’re really mad at… I am,” Catra looked down at the floor. “I’m the reason your mom is gone.” 

The Darkling Queen was silent, ink-black gaze utterly unreadable. 

“I thought I could make up for all the crap I’ve done in the past. I thought maybe, just maybe, if I did enough good, I could somehow payback the universe for everything I took from it. But that’s not how life works. Somethings you can’t come back from… and I’m so tired of trying.” 

Catra stepped forward, approaching the Darkling Queen. 

“I can’t give you your mom back…” Catra’s words were toneless, without emotion as she spread her arms wide. “But I can give you this.” 

“Catra?!” Adora yelled from across courtyard, straining against the arms holding her. “What are you doing!? RUN!” 

“That’s what all this is really about, isn’t it!?” Catra yelled at the Darkling Queen, tears streaming down her cheeks. “You want revenge, you want to punish me!? Fine, I deserve it! So do it already! KILL ME!”  

Eclipso’s pale lips peeled back in a wide demoniacal grin, far wider than Glimmer’s facial muscles should have been physically capable of. “Well, so long as you’re offering…” A coil of inky unlight shot forward with viper quickness, point narrowing into a blade of gleaming darkness as it sped directly at Catra’s heart. 

“CATRA!” Adora shrieked, wide-eyed with horror, unable to look away. 

“NOOOOOOO!” Bow’s voice cried, his slender form throwing itself between the Darkling Queen and her prey as the blade of unlight skewered his softly yielding flesh. He hung in mid-air for a moment, transfixed by the coil of night. 

“Glimmer…” he mouthed soundlessly, flecks of crimson froth falling from his lips as his body went limp. It slid from the ethereal blade before hitting the black marble with a wet thud. 

An uncomprehending pall fell upon the entire courtyard, an impenetrable silence finally broken by a soft whisper. 

“Bow…?” Eclipso staggered back, her form trembling, convulsing violently as though at war with herself. “No, I didn’t… You can’t… we…”  

The Darkling Queen fell to her knees and threw back her head. She unleashed a primal scream that shook the firmament above, scattering the Shadow Demon swarm. She continued to scream as a pillar of inky unmatter disgorged itself from her eyes and throat, surging into the black between the stars. 

Finally, the Black Diamond shard embedded in her clavicle pulsed one last time… before shattering forever. 

* 

ASH DUNES  

October 16, 00:48 UCT  

Hordak raised his arm-cannon as another Shadow Demon swooped down on him, only for the unthing’s ethereal talons to tear through the weapon’s casing like paper. Hordak fell back into ash powder, yanking his arm loose from the sparking scrap. 

“Blast it!” 

The Shadow Demon turned, angling for the kill like a hawk zeroing on a field mouse. There was no time for Hordak to run or hide, no time to do anything but steel himself for the end. He thought of Entrapta, of his brothers, about the life he had lived. What was done was done, let history judge him as it saw fit. 

Talons of pure unlight were bare inches from Hordak’s throat when the Shadow Demon suddenly froze, twisting and writhing in mid-air. It let out one last piteous wail before finally dissipating like mist in blazing sunlight. 

“Commander Hordak?!” 

He turned to see Troopers Lonnie and Roghelio – with Trooper Kyle limping behind. The two able-bodied rebels helped Hordak to his feet, as he brushed the clinging ash from his exo-armor. Imp quickly scurried back up his shoulder, perching silently. 

“Troopers, report?” 

“Sir,” Lonnie saluted. “I’m not exactly sure what to report. The enemy just went…” 

“Poof?” Kyle offered. 

“Not sure that’s the correct military terminology but… yeah,” spoke Lonnie. “Poof.” 

Hordak lifted his gaze to the clear moon-studded heavens. The Red Eclipse had finally passed, restoring the Etherian sky to its accustomed dreaming duskiness. His belly shook before erupting in bellowing laughter. 

Lonnie and her companions all squirmed uncomfortably at their leader’s uncharacteristic mirth. 

“They did it!” Hordak finally spoke, smiling broadly. “The fools actually won!” 

* 

CASTLE DARK MOON  

October 16, 00:52 UCT  

Darkness enveloped her, not the cold hateful Darkness that had mired and constricted her soul for so long, but a darkness that was warm and gentle as it carried her up into the light. Her eyes fluttered open, head resting in a tenderly crooked arm as a youthful face smiled warmly down on her, tears welling in his clear brown eyes. 

“Bow!” Glimmer cried with joy, throwing her arms about the young archer. 

“Alright, folks, back off a little,” chuckled Tigress, waving back the rest of the assembled heroes in the courtyard of Dark Moon. “Give them some breathing space.” 

Glimmer reeled back, her hand tracing Bow’s conspicuously unpunctured torso. “But how…?!” 

“I was kinda wondering about that myself,” replied Bow, casting a perplexed glance across the courtyard where a form identical to his own was beginning to stir from the black marble. 

“Don’t mind me, I’m fine,” groaned the other ‘Bow’, staggering to his feet. The wound in his chest sealed itself as dark-skin turned ash-white and his limbs tapered into slender pins. <Not that I’m not deeply moved by all your tender concern.> M’Comm limped towards the gathered survivors, giving a curt nod to one in particular. <Kalibak.>  

“M’orzz,” the Apokoliptan grunted. 

Glimmer looked up at the pale Martian. “Thank you.” 

“I’m still confused,” spoke Adora. “What just happened, exactly?” 

Glimmers eyes fell in shame. “Back when we were on Apokolips, I made a deal with the Black Diamond Entity. I agreed to let it possesses me as long as it kept Bow safe. When Eclipso thought she’d killed Bow, it must have broken the Entity’s hold on me.” She turned back to M’comm. “But how did you know?” 

<I didn’t,> M’comm turned to Catra. <She did.>  

“Well, I didn’t ‘know’ technically, more like… guessed?” Catra smirked sheepishly, taking a tentative step towards Glimmer, only to hesitate when the mage-queen tensed, avoiding her gaze. 

“YOU ‘GUESSED’!?” Adora roared directly in Catra’s ear. 

“Gyaaah!” Catra recoiled, covering her ringing ear. “Warn me next time, will ya!?” 

“What were even thinking!?” Adora demanded. “What if your plan hadn’t worked?! What if Eclipso had killed you!?” 

Catra shrugged. “I mean, she was gonna kill everybody anyway.” 

“I… but… GRAAAGH!” Adora wailed in frustration before finally giving up and hugging her girlfriend tight. 

“Love you too, babe,” Catra murmured, hugging her back. 

“Hold up!” Kara interjected. “I hate to dampen the party, but what’s to stop Eclipso taking over Glimmer again once she realizes Bow’s not dead?” 

“Good question,” said Tigress. “Traci?” 

“Oh gosh, lemme think,” the teen sorceress squinted, clearly nursing a massive headache. I’m pretty sure once a possessing entity relinquishes its claim on a host, it shouldn’t be able to repossess them again… most of the time.” 

Tigress cocked an eyebrow. “‘Most of the time’?” 

“Hey, I’m a witch, not a lawyer.” Traci shrugged, kneeling down to pick a gold shard from the floor. 

“I’m so sorry, Traci,” said Miss Martian. “I know you and Nabu weren’t exactly friends but…” 

“I know,” sighed Traci. “But I’m still gonna miss the old fart.” 

The sombre silence was abruptly shattered by the door to the outer courtyard being thunderously kicked in, before four dynamic figures came bursting over the threshold. 

 “STAND AND DELIVER, FOUL TYRANT!” crowed the mustachioed sea dog leading the new band, shadow boxing the twilight. “OR FACE THE FLAMING FISTS OF HOT JUSTICE!” 

“Wasn’t that door already open?” Halo asked. 

“Eclipso’s gone, Sea Hawk,” said Bow, smiling as he helped Glimmer to her feet. “It’s finally over.” 

“Well, yes, I anticipated that of course.” Sea Hawk twirled his mustache. “No doubt the fiend fled at the coming of… SEA HAWK AND HIS HEROIC WARRIORS!”  

“I thought we were calling ourselves the Etherian Liberation Front?” interjected the rainbow-winged horse, standing over Sea Hawk’s shoulder. 

“Wouldn’t that make us ‘E.L.F.?” Devil Ray asked. 

“We are not a team, and we don’t need a name!” Arsenal snapped, brushing his way to the head of the totally-not-a-team. 

“Roy!” Tigress cried, hugging Arsenal. “Thank God you’re okay.  Wait… did that horse just talk?” 

“At this point, I’m more surprised when he doesn’t,” muttered Arsenal. 

“I heard that!” Swift Wind snipped. 

“Typical management,” Catra smirked. “Showing up after all the hard work is done.” 

Arsenal snorted. “Don’t start with me, Probie.” 

Glimmer almost smiled, taking in the scene. The banter, the nervous laughter, the long coiled tensions finally released. It felt right. It felt almost… normal. Then the pain struck, cold and blinding, like a shard of black ice piercing her brain. She would have collapsed to her knees had Bow not been there. 

“Glimmer?!” Bow held her taking, taking her weight. “What’s wrong?!” 

“The Entity…” Glimmer groaned, clutching her pounding head. “It’s still here!” 

* 

VOID  

------- --, --:-- ---  

The Entity howled in the trans-cosmic abyss as its grip on the material plane abruptly snapped. As temporal beings reckoned, it had only the most infinitesimal sliver of an instant before it was dragged unwillingly back to face the judgement of its self-righteous, weak-willed kin. But to such a creature, unbound by linearity, there was no functional difference between an instant and an aeon.  

The unbound mind cast about, seeking some other egress back into the realm of linear causality, something to anchor it in corporeality. Its thoughts came to rest on one potentiality in particular.  

It would suffice.  

* 

CASTLE DARK MOON  

October 16, 00:56 UCT  

Glimmer hobbled up the aerial walkway, leaning heavily by Bow, the assembled heroes of many worlds trailing expectantly behind them. As they approached the dais that held the Moonstone, the magical heart of what was formerly the Kingdom of Bright Moon, all warmth drained from the mage-queen. 

“Please no,” she murmured. 

The Runestone had turned completely black, so deep a black that neither reflection nor contour were discernible across its surface. It was as if someone had cut a hole in the very fabric of reality, a wound haloed by a corona of seething violet. Something began to emerge from the void. 

None could look at the unthing without agony, even the gods and mages among the assembled struggled to process what their senses were telling them. The horror’s dimensions and contours warped and unfolded as though straining against the very confines of three-dimensional space. Its form was a shifting kaleidoscope of conflicting sense impressions, eyes within eyes; blazing with the black fire, atrophied wings; rimed with the frost of dead stars, chittering crystalline mandibles; gnawing on the corpse-flesh of a stillborn universe. 

“God help us,” whispered Halo. 

N̶͎̣̘̎O̶̲̹̔́̓̿ ̷̢̪͉̄͝A̴̱̬͛̐N̸̮̰̤̋̓͑S̸̻̊̈ͅͅW̸͕͈̹͙͆͝Ë̵͖̺̬̼̆̉R̷̛̔̒͆͜.̵͕̳͉̩͐ ̶̢̛̹̻̪̔N̶͍̩͐O̸̬͌ ̸̜͂Ĥ̴̫̇͗O̴̦̒̈́P̴̼̲̣͘Ȇ̷̮̠̮͙̕.̸̯͛ͅ 

̷͚̤̃̒̌Ò̴̥̻̅N̷͎̺̠̟̾̇̒̍Ḻ̵̰̪̅̓Ý̷̲͚̂͘ ̷̹͍̔͝S̵̩̪̱̜̓̽I̶̛̪̱̎L̵̺̜̥̹̔Ȅ̴̱̪̟Ṋ̵͚̅͒Ç̶̿̓̚͝Ȩ̶̡͐̓͝ͅ.̸̩͉̳͗̄̐͘ ̵̞̊O̶̮͔̒͌͆̒N̶̤̐L̶̫͐͘Ỹ̵̟̈̈͂ ̶̡͕̣̞̃D̴͔͗E̴̛̹̪̕Ạ̴̻͒T̴̼̪̞̍H̶̝̆̚̕.̵̪̗̏̚͘̕ͅ 

The words were not a sound, or even telepathy. They resonated jarringly, as though violently impressed on space-time itself. 

B̵̡͖͗R̷̟͆̊̊O̷̢̪͔͎̔K̸͔͛̅Ẹ̶͍͚̊̈͝͝N̷̗̻͉͘͘ ̸̨̖̱̜͆T̶̜́̎̚O̸̮̪̊Y̴͖͇͇̯̾͌̆͝Ş̴͎̓.̴̧̧̟̑ ̵̛̥̦͕̩͂̚͠C̴̹̘̥͍̉Ą̶͈̯̽̇S̶͇͙̟̞̽̍̈Ť̶̰̰̜͉͗̕ ̸̬̈́̐͒̂À̵̪̟̀Ṡ̸͉̩̥̤I̴̙̮̪̺̋̌Ḋ̵͙̠̋̽E̵̤̖̻̒̄̋̚.̶̖͈̹̣͛͛͝ 

̴̯͒Ǧ̴̱̦͛Ȯ̴̩̔̊D̵̩̞̄̚͠ ̵̢̖̒I̴̛̺͔͋S̷̛̫̯͋̋̈́ ̴̼̩̉̍͜Å̵̢̙͝ ̵̢̛̏̋̈́T̵̟̦̺͓̅̋̄̍H̶̰̮̾Ô̷͖͕͛̔U̷͈͎̍̌͛̚G̵͕̩̱̹̅H̷͍̀̌T̴̞̰̊Ļ̵͈̻̄̓͘ͅÉ̴̮̣͉̎S̶̬̲̓S̴̖̽ ̴̡̤͙̈̇C̴̳̀̂̅H̴̘̩̱͝I̴̹̐̒͐́L̸͎̜̻͠Ď̴̮͒̃̾.̷̞̼̊̊ 

The Entity rose from the corrupted Runestone like an ash-plume from an erupting caldera, its impossible form swelling until it filled the skies, blotting out the stars. 

Y̸̨̹̚Ȍ̸̻̠̈́͘U̴̡̼̜̅ ̶̛͓Ṛ̸̅̾͠È̵̜̀̎͝J̴̠̇̆̒͝Ḙ̶̼̣̆̚C̷̡̪͔̎̓̓T̵̫̻̗͔̈͌͑̕ ̶̧̪̜̪́̑̚T̴̨͔̉̋H̴͎̞̑́͜E̵̩̟͚͋̕͝ ̵̟͖̪̗̏̓̆Ṡ̷̛̤̠̰͂A̴̢͓͚̍̓̆̊L̶͈̺͒V̶͚͙͕̟̔̋A̵͙͑Ţ̵̮̌̒̎̕I̶͍͖̦͝O̶̲̝̔̈N̸̜̮̼̰̋̕ ̸̼͔̉͠͠Ȍ̴̟̀F̴̱͓̃ ̸̠̘̋̀͠Ö̸̬͙́̓B̵̜͉͐̇̌̈́L̷̢̯͑̑̓Ì̷̫̔́́V̶̙͓̤̟̆̈́̚I̴̜̦̱͓̓͑̈́̈́Ȍ̴̬͒̊̎N̸̟̤̥̈.̷͍̈́ 

̸̰̾̒́̆ 

̷̙̋Ỳ̴̡̜̣͋͠O̴̠͇̲͈̾̈Ů̶͖̠̜͜R̵̥͙̈̈́̒ ̴͔̞̥̈́W̴͍̍̇Ǒ̵̘̿́Ṟ̸̹̆͑̀̕Ļ̵͚̻́̽͠D̴̨̯̒̋̋̌ ̵̭̻̫͆̀̑̑I̷͚̿Ş̸̨͇̮͋̋̆̃ ̴̖͆̾̎̎F̴̛̛͖̝̽̇Ǫ̴̟̈R̷̙̝̟̲̅̌F̶̤͓͚̹̏͒̐Ę̴̭̓͂Ĩ̵̯̻T̶͎͍̤͂̕͜.̶̥͌͒͂ 

The Entity raised its fractal talons as the planet began to tremble. The tremors grew more and more intense until the assembled heroes could no longer trust the ground beneath their feet. 

“Glimmer! What’s happening?!” Adora cried, falling to her knees. 

The Twin Mountains, between which Dark Moon nestled, began the shake and crack as though being violently torn from their very roots. 

“It’s trying to shake Etheria apart!” Glimmer cried, staggering towards the blackened Moonstone. “I think I can stop it!” 

<It’s too late to save Etheria!> M’comm’s thoughts rang out in an undirected panic. <We have to flee!>  

“NO!” Glimmer roared over the rising cacophony, her eyes hard and sharp as gemstones. “This is our world!” She thrust her hands out, pressing her palms against the inky black surface of the tainted Runestone. “AND I’M NOT GIVING IT UP!”  

Something rose up from deep inside Glimmer, poured itself into the Moonstone, driving back the Darkness that had consumed it. She reached down into that deep place, drawing upon all her strength, her passion, her sheer force of will. For one brief moment, she thought it might even be enough. 

The Darkness resurged, as though merely toying with her, bringing despair with it. In an instant she saw the entire future of the cosmos laid out before her; the last exhausted stars collapsing under their own bloated weight, the last galaxies torn apart by a ceaselessly swelling void. Then came the Heat Death, everything cold and dark forever more, the final inevitable triumph of Entropy. 

Eclipso was right. The cosmos was a corpse in the making. There was no hope, no better tomorrow to fight for, only futility and death awaited them at the end of their struggles. Better to give up now and save everyone the pointless anguish. Glimmer’s soul teetered on edge of the hungering Abyss. 

L̶̘̤̱̮͝E̸̟̻̥͘T̴̥̹́͝ ̸̹̾̊̏͋G̶̜̲͖͔͊̃̃Ō̷͓̹̥͔ 

Why did she always have to fight? 

G̷͔͍͒Ï̵̬̏̈́̕V̷̠̚ͅẸ̸̰́ ̷͙͊̕Ȋ̵͕̱͐͌͒ͅN̸̛̼̯̳̆͆ͅ 

She was just so tired. 

D̷͎͖̰͂I̷͈̯̦̬̔̊̚E̷͓͔͚̎̒̓̽ 

She fell. 

Then someone caught her. 

A hand squeezed Glimmer’s shoulder. “None of us are giving up on Etheria,” Bow spoke, his voice soft yet unyielding. 

“Or you!” said Adora, squeezing Glimmer’s other shoulder. 

“It’s just… too much, the Entity… it’s nothing but power and hate,” Glimmer sobbed through reddened eyes. “I don’t think I have the strength to fight it.” 

“Then take ours,” said Bow. 

“You don’t know what you’re saying!” Glimmer blurted. 

“Yes, we do.” Adora spoke with quiet resolve. “Take whatever you need. Best Friend Squad Forever.” 

Light, burning and bright surged through Glimmer into the Moonstone and the Darkness quailed for a moment, but only for a moment. 

“It’s still not enough!” Glimmer cried. 

Adora’s knees wobbled under her. She nearly collapsed, before a clawed hand grabbed her own shoulder. 

“Then give it more!” Catra snarled, lending her own life force. “Kick its creepy eldritch butt, Sparkles!” 

Halo and Tigress’ hands fell upon Catra’s own shoulders. 

“I’ll co-sign that!” Tigress cried. “Symbiosi!” 

“Symbiosi!” Halo echoed. 

 “I saw one world die already,” said Kara, squeezing Adora’s other shoulder. “Never again!” 

“Never again!” Superboy echoed, laying his hand on Kara’s shoulder. “For Krypton and Etheria!” 

“For every world!” spoke Miss Martian, squeezing Conner’s shoulder. She was surprised to find a spindly ash-white hand tentatively resting on her own. Her brother made no bold boast, no cry of defiance. Still, he was there. 

One by one, the heroes of Etheria, Earth, Krypton, Mars and even Apokolips lent their strength to Glimmer, their very life force surging through her like a torrent, the grimness of their hope, the fierceness of their love. The Darkness redoubled again and again, only to lose inch after inch of its grip on the Moonstone. 

C̷̗̓̑̉̚H̸͖̎Ḁ̶͊̃̏̍ͅO̷͇̱̫̙͛͂̚S̵̜̓̉̀̚ ̸̘͈́́̉͝F̵̰͖̤̋͐͜I̵̪̅L̸͙͉͙̓̅͐͊T̷̏ͅH̸͍̹̕!̶̨̤̈́͑̓!̸̗̮̓̓̋͊ ̶̨͇́W̵̫̹̽̍̈́Á̴̳̜̊L̴̬͔̲̮̏̃̊K̴̢̡̤̠̿I̷͔̓͊͘Ṋ̸̨̗̯̿́G̷̢̬̦͒̇̿ ̴̖̈́̾͆͌T̷̰̹̄͜U̵̩̮͆̈́̔M̸̤͙͓̓̿͑̏O̸̱̘͈̿̐͘Ȓ̶̬̇̄̐Ṣ̸̙̻̞̎̔̄͂!̶̨̥̙̏͗͘ 

̸͎͎̭̄̂̈̓Ẁ̸͇̽̇Ȟ̸͎̐͝Y̵̞͐̍̐ ̵̘͉̲̄̍͒̾Ṣ̴̛̤̫̮̈͌͋T̷̥͑͋̀̈R̸̢͓͈̊̕͝U̴͇̲̻̝̿́͘̕G̶͇̣̃͆̂G̶̳̯̈́̐̊L̵͚̑E̴͔̹̺͠!̷̝͓͊̋̊?̸̛͜!̷̹̱̭͛̐̔̈́ 

̸̥̅F̶̏̎ͅO̶̺̝͚͙̊͂̑͆Ȓ̴̢͍͔́͗̑ ̸͍͙͐̀̋̐Ṃ̷͔̾̄͝Ȍ̸̠̌Ṛ̷͐̒͠E̸̙͎̓ ̵̛̜̋L̸̘̜̱͛̂̌̃O̴͕̙̿̀́S̵̮̩͕͙̔S̴̝͋!̸͎̗͖̌͂̚?̷͓̳͋!̸̻͕̅̿̈́̿ 

̶̝͙̔͑̾M̶̪͊̉̿͑Ơ̶̫̗͜R̴̹͙͖̅͝E̶͕̤̾͠ ̵̩̝͈͒́͒P̶̥̻̼͙̏Â̸̛̮̔I̶̪͛́͆N̵̢̫͍̼̈́̔͐!̵̟̼̩͗̇?̵̛̪͑̾͂ 

̵͎͕̔̆̈́͠G̶͔̳̦̹͌̒͋Ŏ̵̡̯͖̯͛ ̵͉̓͑̌͠C̶͕͇̰̈́̎Ö̸̩͎̹͚̑̅̊L̵̦̈́̏ͅͅD̵̜̒̍!̴͇͖̯̉͒ ̷͈̽G̷̻̪̑͛̔O̸͔̠͇͛̄͘ ̷̡̝̥͘D̶͙̱͂̈́̌̌A̵̻͒͆Ŕ̵̢͈͑̔̀K̴̪͘!̸̛̥̬̟̀ 

̶͖̹̌͜͠Ḋ̷̫̣͑I̷̧̭͈̭̍̾Ḙ̸̠͈́!̴̡̏ 

Ḑ̵̛̫̳̠̌͂̇̍̈́͆̃̽͋́̌͋̈͐̒̀̈́͆̈́̍̔̉̏͑̈́̊̈́͂̀̆̊̚̚͠͝͝͝͠Ị̶̙̦̖̝̰̜͙̞̝̱̘̼͇̲̲̱̙͎͇̳͖̻̇̈̈͋͛̐̃͌̃̂̐̐̏͐̅̏͗̿̓̅̓̉͗̅̿̅̃͌͌̂̃̄̉̌̌͂͒͒͒͐͜͜͠͝͝ͅͅỀ̷̬̭̜̥͚̠͖̪̥̜̯̮̝̺̬͓͉̯̞͔̳̹̳̍̓̀͘͠͠ͅ!̶̡̨̡͇̗͍͉̻̩̘̰̹͓͖̻͙̫̘͚̜̙̗̝̩͉̬̖̼̖̼̲͔̼̭̼̬͈͓̫̩̲̺̤͍̐̋̾̃̾̈́̑̿́̍̌̈́͛͗̍̈̔̄̀̾̊̀͋̉́̀̓͋̍̂̀͑̃͆͐̕̕͜͜͝͝͝͠ 

̸̳̰̯͍̦̺̳͖̖͔͉̜̖̗̱̫̤̮̫̮̫̗̍́͌̎͗̈͒̏̅͂͑͋̽̄́͑̋̓̽̓͐̀̚͘̚͠͝͠ͅͅD̵̛̛͔̦̻͑̈́̉̀̎̋͒̎̑̎̈̊̿̐͛͌́̒͐̈́̔͒̄̔̕͘͝ͅỈ̸̡͓͇͍̬̼̳̄́̽̈́̋̊̈́̏̔̂́͐̓͗̊̂E̸͙̻̻͖͇̤͍͕̠͖̮͚̤̬̻̤̭̣̮̤̰͚̦͐̑̌̀̎͂̑̍̈́͋͌́̇̕ͅ!̴̛̛̘̤̜͚̝̬̞̮͛͗͂̿̈́̌̎̽́̅͂̑̈́̈́̍̈́͐́̏͋̀͐̈́́̅̒̊͛̈́̕̚͜͝͝͝͝ 

̷̹̼̙̲͚̱̪͔̯̰̤̯̦̘̬̼̲͇̬͍͓͈͇̺̳̭̳̞̺͈͕̹̥̮̺̰̝̤̥̀͐̾̐͂͆͆́͐̊̚͠ͅͅͅ 

Memories, faces, flowed through Glimmer as the light surged. Lor-El, Lian, Bow’s Dads, the Hordaks, Clark and Lois, Kaldur, Dick, Jon, Will, Jim, Harper. M’gann’s parents, M’ree, Uncle J’onn, Jamie, Traci’s dad, Angelo’s mum, and so many many more. Each was a living miracle. Every fleeting joy, every small kindness,  every breath was an act of defiance, a small ‘no’ in the face of the night. 

Eclipso was right, Glimmer finally realized. The universe was chaos, pain and death. But it was also everything else . 

The Moonstone blazed in a nova of radiant white fire, sending a lance of searing white light directly into the sky above. The Entity writhed and shrieked as the lance pierced its heart, burning its impossible form from within before banishing it forever from the material plane, leaving the skies of Etheria finally clear. 

For a moment, Eclipso’s pale reflection staring back at Glimmer from the pearlescent Runestone. 

Poor Daughter of Light. You have no idea the horror that awaits you beyond the Veil. He will not be nearly so merciful as I.  

Glimmer blinked, only her own reflection gazed back from the surface of the purified Moonstone. 

“‘He’?” 

"WHOOO!" Bow whooped, literally sweeping Glimmer off her feet and spinning her about in the opal light of the Runestone. "You did it, Glimmer! You saved everyone!" 

Glimmer's head was swimming when he finally let her down, dizzy and giddy in equal measure as the rest of the heroes crowded about her. "We did it; I couldn't have done it without all of-" 

"Glimmer," Adora interjected, brows furrowed worryingly. "Are you okay? 

"Of course, I am," Glimmer answered, still a little dizzy “Why wouldn't I-" 

There was warm wetness on her upper lip, followed by a metallic tang. She reached for her nose. Her fingers came away dripping scarlet. 

"Glimmer!?" Bow spoke, his voice cracking 

"Oh... that's not..." she murmured back. 

Everyone was yelling... something. Glimmer could not make it out. The voices were suddenly faint and distant as her vision went grey, like she was sinking into herself. She careened forward, the black marble rising up to meet her. 

She never felt the impact. 

* 

“Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty.” Tigress panted in time with the chest compressions before pressing her mouth to Glimmer’ cold lips, forcing air into unresponsive lungs. 

“Please, Glimmer, don't leave me, not after all this,” sobbed Bow, squeezing her pale fingers between his. “You're my whole world.” 

“Adora, Rainbow!” Catra cried, near panic. “You have to do something!” 

Adora and Halo fell to their knees by Glimmer's still form, their hands shimmering with respective golden and violet auras. 

“It… It’s not working,” said Adora haltingly. “I can't feel anything from her,”  

“I’m sorry,” whispered Halo, lowering their hands. “She's gone.” 

* 

ERROR  

ERROR  

ERROR  

Abandon All Hope  

That which once called itself Glimmer of Bright Moon was alone in a void without sight, sound or sensation. There was no cold; no darkness, for cold and darkness would be something. There was only absence and negation of all material existence.  

Then, without warning... there was something.  

Glimmer's eyes snapped open as she bolted upright. The darkness was chill and all consuming. For a moment, she thought she had gone blind. 

“Bow... are you there?” Glimmer whispered sheepishly. 

Blind or not, she was no longer in the courtyard of Dark Moon; that much was certain. The unseen ground beneath her was damp and spongy, like recently turned earth. 

“Anyone?” 

Her eyes finally locked on something in the distance. Not a light exactly, but a rectangular patch of merely grayish darkness amid the absolute black. At first, she thought it an after-image on her retinas. Yet as she drew closer, the shape clarified and defined itself more and more until its form was unmistakable. 

It was a door. 

More specifically, a revolving door. Panels of cracked opaque glass set in frames of tarnished silver. A symbol was embossed in black on the silver doorframe; five thick bars rising from a dark inverted triangle, like a stylized black hand. 

Nothing about the eldritch threshold put Glimmer at ease but it was the only discernible landmark in the yawning abyss. She braced herself before pushing forward, cold greasy grime coming away on her fingers as she stepped through the revolving door. 

What lay beyond the door could not have been greater contrast to the outer darkness. Glimmer’s eyes watered and squinted, shielding themselves from a light that was somehow both garish and colorless as they readjusted to take in her surroundings. 

The chamber was dizzyingly vast, so vast that Glimmer could not even make out the walls, lost in a distant haze. Filling the cavernous hall were row upon row of upright box-like machines that flashed and trilled. Before each machine, a greyish figure sat on a tall stool, pulling mechanically on the device’s lever. 

Glimmer stepped towards the nearest figure, her feet sinking into the plush yet mouldering carpet. The figure looked about thirty, clad in a somewhat singed skin-tight suit of desaturated blue and cracked yellow goggles. 

“Hello?” Glimmer spoke tentatively. 

Three spinning cylinders in the face of the odd device came to a halt, flashing three grinning skulls. The figure made no response, staring blankly through his shattered goggles as he pulled the lever again.  

Glimmer reached out tentatively, only for her fingers to pass through the figure’s blue-grey shoulder. She jolted back, looking down at her hand, which suddenly seemed oddly unreal. Her eyes darted about, only now noticing that some of the figures sitting at the garishly trilling machines were even more fade and indistinct, like decaying paintings. 

Oʜ, ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴍɪɴᴅ Tᴇᴅ. 

She yelped again, spinning on her heels. She fought the urge to recoil from the newest figure standing before her. He was rail thin, clad in a threadbare suit of purest night, translucently pale skin stretched across an otherwise bare skull. His thin lips peeled back in a rictus grin, revealing blackend teeth jutting from receding gangreen gums. 

Mᴏsᴛ ᴏғ ᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇsɪᴅᴇɴᴛs ᴛᴇɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ɢᴇᴛ ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ... ᴜɴʀᴇsᴘᴏɴsɪᴠᴇ ᴀғᴛᴇʀ ᴀ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ. Bᴜᴛ ɴᴏ ᴍɪɴᴅ, ɴᴏ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ. 

The ghoul bowed mockingly. 

Wᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇ, ʏᴏᴜʀ Mᴀᴊᴇsᴛʏ. Iᴛ's ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs ᴀ ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴜʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴ ʀᴏʏᴀʟᴛʏ, ᴇsᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟʟʏ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇʏ sᴛɪʟʟ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʜᴇᴀᴅs ᴀᴛᴛᴀᴄʜᴇᴅ, ɴʏᴇʜ-ʜᴇʜ. 

Glimmer tried to mask her revulsion, a revulsion that somehow seemed triggered by more than just the ghoul's physical appearance. “Who are you?!” She demanded angrily. “What is this place!?” 

The ghoul paused for a moment, as though processing the question, before doubling over in a wheezing cackle that sounding more like a hacking cough. 

'Wʜᴏ ᴀᴍ I' sʜᴇ ᴀsᴋs! Oʜ. I ʟᴏᴠᴇ ɪᴛ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇʏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ sᴇɴsᴇ ᴏғ ʜᴜᴍᴏʀ! 

He wiped away a non-existent tear from the corner of a shadowed eye-socket, empty save for a single point of pale light, like a cold star. 

As ᴛᴏ 'ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ', ᴡʜʏ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ Bʟᴀᴄᴋ Hᴀɴᴅ Cᴀsɪɴᴏ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏsᴛ ᴘᴏᴘᴜʟᴀʀ ɢᴀᴍɪɴɢ ᴇsᴛᴀʙʟɪsʜᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴛʜɪs sɪᴅᴇ ᴏғ Eᴛᴇʀɴɪᴛʏ! 

“This is a mistake, I need to find my frien-” Glimmer turned back towards the revolving door only the find a wall of bare black. The leering ghoul interjecting himself between her and the blank wall 

Sᴏʀʀʏ, ʜᴜɴɴʏ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀʟᴋ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴏsᴇ ᴅᴏᴏʀs, ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ's ɴᴏ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ʙᴀᴄᴋ. Yᴏᴜ ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ᴄᴀʟʟ ɪᴛ ᴀ... ᴅᴇᴀᴅ ᴇɴᴅ! NYAHAHAHA! 

Hot anger surged through Glimmer as the ghoul tittered obscenely. “I’m leaving, NOW!” She raised her hands to cast an offensive spell.  

Nothing happened. 

“What? My... my magic?” 

Oʜ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ sᴏʀᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴅᴏᴇsɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ʜᴇʀᴇ. Hᴇᴀʟᴛʜ ᴀɴᴅ Sᴀғᴇᴛʏ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ? Nᴏᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴇɪᴛʜᴇʀ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ ᴛʜɪs ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ. 

Glimmer stepped back. A cold dread unlike any she had felt in life began to seize her. “Who are you... really?” 

Nᴏᴡ, ɴᴏᴡ, Gʟɪᴍ-ɢʟᴀᴍ, sᴛᴏᴘ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴄᴏʏ. Yᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ I ᴀᴍ. Eᴠᴇʀʏʙᴏᴅʏ ᴅᴏᴇs, ᴅᴇᴇᴘ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʙᴏɴᴇs. 

The ghoul stalked her, growing with each slow but inexorable step until he dwarfed her, dwarfed everything. 

I'ᴍ ᴛʜᴇ sɪʟᴇɴᴄᴇ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ʟᴀsᴛ ʀᴀᴛᴛʟɪɴɢ ɢᴀsᴘ. I'ᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴀᴘɪɴɢ ᴘɪᴛ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏᴛᴛᴏᴍ ᴏғ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴛʏ, ᴛʜᴇ sʟᴀᴠᴇʀɪɴɢ ᴍᴀᴡ ᴡᴀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴇᴠᴏᴜʀ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪs ᴏʀ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ. I'ᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴜᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜ sᴘᴇɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴡᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴛʀʏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ɪɢɴᴏʀᴇ. Sɪɴᴄᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏᴏᴋ ʏᴏᴜʀ ғɪʀsᴛ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜ, I'ᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ʜᴇʀᴇ, ᴡᴀɪᴛɪɴɢ ғᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴡᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴍʏ ᴅᴏᴏʀ. Bᴜᴛ ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ɪɴsɪsᴛ ᴏɴ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ʜᴜᴍᴏʀᴇᴅ... 

He extended a thin spidery hand, a back ring adorning one of his long bony fingers. 

Hᴇʟʟᴏ, Gʟɪᴍᴍᴇʀ... I'ᴍ Dᴇᴀᴛʜ.