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Chapter Text

It’s been said that the world shifts at midnight. During this hour, Ethereia’s more magically inclined would insist that certain spells weakened, their dreams became prophetic, and even a lucky few could contact wandering spirits. This superstition was as ancient as the world, itself, perhaps older, but the lab partners never gave it much thought. There was no tangible data to support a cyclical waxing and waning of a mystical veil or its ties to spell casting. Not until their most recent project. 

Initially, Hordak dismissed the results as unremarkable, merely an estimation of the best time to activate the portal and how long it would stay open. Entrapta, however, made note of the result as a “fascinating coincidence” and insisted they try again. It was important to go back and check their work after all. Every calculation, every time, no matter the variables, the result was the same. The portal could remain open for a maximum of thirty-six seconds only if activated at midnight.

“It has to be the First One's Tech,” Entrapta theorized. “If the First Ones mastered the ability to place magic within these crystals then it makes sense that they would respond to temporal fluctuations.”

“That’s all assuming the old superstitions are true.” Hordak countered her hypothesis less as an actual argument and more as an encouragement. Magic was always a topic he avoided. Lord Prime despised it, calling it a ‘craft of shadows meant to warp one's senses and alter truths.’ But he had to admit that he wanted to see where Entrapta’s train of thought was going. Besides, if studying this aspect of magic opened the portal sooner, surely any sins committed would be forgiven.

“True,” Entrapta muttered, sitting back on her hair to think. “Mystacor never let anyone outside their schools study the phenomenon closely enough to prove it exists. But that also means it hasn’t been disproven either!” Her pitch increased with her excitement. “And what kind of scientists would we be if we didn’t explore? Imagine the data!” Entrapta rushed to her computer to open a new file.

Hordak hummed his agreement. Though he didn’t share Entrapta’s passion for learning for knowledge’s sake (in fact he was certain no being alive could match her enthusiasm) the ability to predict fluctuations in magic did have potential where battle strategy was concerned. It would mean delaying the portal project. But Hordak was beginning to wonder if that was such a bad thing. This avenue of study might help him conquer Etheria with a newfound efficiency, and the idea of prolonging his time with Entrapta to delve into it pleased him more than it should have.

“We should start with you.” Entrapta continued tapping away at the keyboard. “Your armor is powered by First One’s tech so it stands to reason it’ll be subject to possible fluctuations as well.” She stopped typing and bounded back to Hordak’s side, examining the crystal she gave him only days ago. She ran her finger over the glassy surface. “Have you noticed any changes?”

“Nothing I thought noteworthy.” Hordak gently took her hand in his, lowering it but not letting go. They’d enjoyed a degree of comfortable unspoken affection in the days since their first test of the portal and he was fond of the way her hand fit within his. “That is to say your efforts have improved my quality of life vastly. Any changes in my energy levels are still an improvement to my previous existence. I have no complaints.”

Entrapta smiled and Hordak pretended not to notice the sudden color in her cheeks. She squeezed his hand a little before letting go. “Then we’ll just have to keep a closer eye on it.” Keeping a log wouldn’t be a problem. They’d both been working in the lab late enough to observe any changes that midnight might bring. “We’ll need a clock.” She stepped back to her computer. “Preferably one that chimes. And timers too.”

In a little under a week they had gathered enough data to add weight to Etheria’s claims of midnight magic. Entrapta had an old clock brought to her lab room from her castle in Dryl. It was her grandmother’s, constant and with a pleasant chime that caught her attention without being overly jarring. She and Hordak had synced their timers to it for when they worked in the sanctum. As soon as they began it was obvious that midnight was not the only significant hour on this planet. As dusk and dawn approached Hordak’s crystal glowed just a hair brighter and as the clock struck six his arm shorted out due to a brief circuit overload. This was a simple fix and Entrapta found a way to route the wires so that Hordak would not suffer as the First One’s crystal went through its apparent routines. The changes at noon and midnight were less irritating but just as conclusive. When the clock struck twelve the crystal flickered, just once and so quickly one might mistake it for a trick of the light. Hordak felt no apparent effects during this time but Entrapta remained concerned.

“It makes sense from a certain perspective.” Entrapta poured over the entries in her data pad from the armrest of Hordak’s throne while he read over her shoulder. “That they  would occur in a multiple of three. I mean so much of our world is already subject to that phenomenon. The number of petals on flowers, three primary colors, even the three parts of an atom.”

“If that’s the case, shouldn’t there be other anomalies?” Hordak amicably challenged her assumption while absentmindedly curling a lock of lilac hair around his finger. “We’ve only managed to discover two fluctuations. By your logic there should be at least one more at the hours of nine or three.”

“Maybe there are.” Entrapta insisted. “And they’re too minor for us to notice. Would you be open to me installing an energy monitor in your armor?”

Hordak was about to express his apprehension when a clatter from the sanctum drew their attention. Upon their arrival, it didn’t take long to figure out the cause. Imp and Emily once again had gotten too rambunctious in one of their games and caused a shelf to fall. Wrenches, hexdrivers, and screws of all sizes, once neatly arranged, now littered the floor. A guilty Imp watched from the rafters where he was trying to hide while Emily slid about trying to pick their way out of the mess, inadvertently making it worse. Hordak growled up at his mischievous little creation, trying to find the words for a proper scolding. But before he could utter a word, Imp chirped pitifully and leaped down into Entrapta’s arms.

“Aw.” She cooed. “It’s alright, little guy. Accidents happen.”

“You spoil him too much.” Hordak sighed, noticing the sly grin on Imp’s face. The little creature clearly had Entrapta wrapped around his tiny claw. He’d get away with murder if she had any say in it.

Entrapta waved a lock of hair dismissing his concerns. “Nonsense, I don’t give him anything he doesn’t deserve.” The plush animals and extra ration bar wrappers that littered Imp’s bed begged to differ but Hordak said nothing. It was a battle he’d be certain to lose. “Anyway he just gave me a good excuse.”

“Excuse?”

“Those cadets, Lonnie, Rogelio, and Kyle like to meet weekly and talk. They said I could join them but going without Scorpia and Catra feels wrong.” Entrapta released her hold on Imp and bent down to start picking up the clutter. “Could you tell them I can’t make it. I need to sort this mess out.” The little creature flicked his tail in understanding and promptly scurried away with Emily.

Hordak nodded, not knowing what to say. The two force captains he sent on that ‘fool’s errand’ remained an undiscussed topic. Neither he nor Entrapta had heard a scrap of news from the Crimson Waste since Catra was sent there. Entrapta tried to hide her worry for her friends but Hordak could tell she missed them and wished for them to come back safely. Unfortunately, wishes come true. Not free.

That evening, Catra returned from the Crimson Waste too successful, bringing with her everything they once desired. But the price was too great. The portal couldn’t be opened. Entrapta tried to warn them but Catra was relentless. She never saw the stun baton coming, never thought her friend would turn on her so violently. And as Entrapta lost consciousness, the last sound she heard was a clock striking twelve.

Chapter Text

Once upon a time, Lord Prime was the most powerful ruler in the universe. He considered himself gentle in peace and terrifying in war. Only the latter held truth, especially during his attempts to conquer the planet of Etheria. Yet despite his strength and strategies, he could not completely quell the ‘misguided’ populace inhabiting the ‘unenlightened’ planet. For they had what he and his previous conquests did not, magic and leaders adept at wielding it. The one who called herself She-ra proved to be the most troublesome among them. It was baffling. Truly. That one little planet would make him resort to this. Negotiations.

The word left a sour taste in his mouth. He sent out the invitations to the Princesses of Etheria. Each of them would meet on the planet’s surface with no weapons and a limited number of guards to discuss the terms of a cease-fire. Of course, whatever little treaty the princesses decided upon wouldn’t last. Once he had time to know his enemy and regroup, they would wish they had surrendered. But it enraged him to no end that it should come to this at all.

Frustration aside, everything was going as it should. He met with the princesses and their companions on the line between their camp and his own. Most of the princesses he recognized from witnessing scenes of battle through the eyes of countless clones. But there was one exceptionally familiar princess that captured his notice. A small, lilac-haired princess, he had only seen her through the eyes of one particularly troublesome clone. An interesting development as she was supposed to be dead. Initially, he wrote off the clone’s memories of her beauty as being clouded by frivolous emotions. Yet another flaw to add to his ever-growing list. But now, in person, even Prime had to admit she was lovely in a wild way that he would enjoy correcting. And if his prodigal brother’s memories were accurate on that account, then his memories of her brilliance must have been just as credible. This princess, this Entrapta, as he recalled, could be a valuable asset aboard his ship. And it was then that an idea struck him.

In all the years Lord Prime had reigned as emperor, he had only taken one empress. It was many lifetimes ago and he thought he might see how he liked taking a wife. She was an acceptable companion at the time, capable, and dignified, as an empress was meant to be. Prime sometimes vaguely regretted not being able to remember her name. Of course, time eventually caught up to her. Before she died, she made one last request of him. And because he felt generous towards her, he swore at her behest that should he decide to marry again it would only be to someone more beautiful, more accomplished, and more cunning than she. Confident in her own qualities, the late empress was convinced she had bound him in an oath never to wed another and died satisfied. Prime made a proper display of her passing, mourning the deceased empress like a man eager to put the business behind him as quickly as possible. After that, he thought little of his promise other than to view it as an amusing challenge. It was a game to be played with the long-dead empress whenever he got the notion. Laughable, really, to think he would entertain the idea of giving the title of Empress of the Universe to anyone who could be considered lesser.

This Princess met the requirements, though she would require molding to properly fit into his regime. Something Prime would enjoy doing while he waited for the princesses to let their guard down. And what better way to spite the defective clone who thought himself worthy of a name and a title? The princesses had many demands for their ‘treaty’ that required further negotiation. Prime, however, claimed he would honor each demand so long as they only met one.

The reaction of the princesses amused him. Entrapta stepped back a pace and wrapped a lock of hair around her middle. The red one with claws and the wispy flowery one stepped forward, in an asinine attempt to block her from his view. The rest of them gasped or stammered in disbelief or both. It was the little queen who managed to escape his ship, Glimmer if he recalled correctly, that finally managed to form a coherent sentence. She excused them to discuss the unexpected proposal in private and hurried her cohort away to their camp.

The princesses could not return to their tent fast enough. Glimmer closed the entrance behind her, making doubly sure to have tied it shut. The princesses knew it wouldn’t do any good, but at least it made them feel better.

Mermista was the first to break the silence. “So we’re not just letting him do this, right?”

“Of course, we’re not.” Perfuma cut in, positively seething. “We can’t just give up one of our own to that monster. No princess left behind.” Seeing the group’s de facto voice of peace and harmony so heated only served to unsettle them more.

Frosta interjected with a statement about punching but Entrapta was too absorbed in thought to listen closely to their conference. She’d observed enough to be certain that her friends wouldn’t willingly give her up to Prime. That was all she needed to know and she took comfort in it. Entrapta pulled back the curtain just enough to peer out at Prime's camp, watching the clones for any changes in posture or a small scowl, anything that might be a sign of one clone in particular. 

She never managed to find Hordak on their rescue mission and everything Catra told her only served to make her worry more. Her hand instinctively moved to the pocket where she knew the crystal no longer was, feeling its loss. As if to add insult to injury, she lost the crystal on Prime’s ship. The only thing she had of her lab partner, and she had left it behind to be lost forever. Was it any wonder she struggled with people? Hordak deserved a less careless rescuer.

A gentle claw touched Entrapta’s shoulder, pulling her out of her spiral. The other princesses, her friends, she reminded herself, had stopped discussing her fate and watched her with expressions of concern.

“Do you see him?” Scorpia’s comforting smile was so strained even Entrapta could tell it was forced. None of the princesses understood her desire to reunite with Hordak, but they had more important things to worry about at the moment than arguing about romantic entanglements. But they all knew what it was like to worry for a loved one. So for now they made strained, but appreciated, attempts at moral support.

Entrapta let the curtain fall. “No. Maybe if I got closer. ”

“Bad idea, Geek Princess,” Mermista interjected. “Just because there’s a ceasefire doesn’t mean we can trust a wandering eye. Let alone four of them.” Scorpia positioned herself between Entrapta and the curtain, just be safe. “And I don’t think Prime will just accept a simple ‘no’”.

“You’re right. He won’t.” Queen Glimmer said, commanding the group’s attention. “He only respects something he can win.” She continued recalling that horrid trophy room. “Which is why we are going to rely on an old tradition. One that can buy us some time.”

The tradition in question hadn’t been upheld since well before their great-grandparents’ time. When one monarch wished to propose to another, the asker became subject to three requests each to be fulfilled within four days. The proposal could only be accepted upon completion. This was meant to determine dedication and give the one being proposed to an out should their requests not be met. As time passed and people mingled in more casual ways, this tradition went from formal to optional to obsolete. The trick was thinking of something so complex not even the self-declared ‘Emperor of the Universe’ could get it without making it obvious that Entrapta intended to ask for something impossible.

To accomplish this, Entrapta turned back to her early studies before getting caught up on the wars. When she was younger, Entrapta took a brief dive into ecological studies, cataloging the adaptations of Etheria’s animals with the intention of improving the functionality of her bots. To this day those notes served to provide her with all sorts of helpful ideas, but one log always made her sad to revisit.

The hazel nightingale was a rare bird, even then, sightings of it only dwindled as the war continued to wreak havoc on its habitat and the species was all but declared extinct. Entrapta had seen it only once during her field research, the last known sighting in all of Etheria. What struck her the most was its song. Entrapta was so wonderstruck by the sweet melody that it gave her the idea to keep a recorder at all times, mostly to record her thoughts, but partially in hopes that she would come across the songbird again. Sadly, she never did and likely never would. The only thing that came close to mimicking its melody was her grandmother’s clock, now in pieces back in what remained of the Fright Zone. And so the princesses saw fit to make the first request a rare nightingale’s song.

Chapter Text

It was not for the clones to question Lord Prime’s demands, but this clone could not help noting that this was especially uncharacteristic. Four days to produce the song of a feeble creature native to this strange planet, or he would be slowly and viciously disposed of. Of course, he knew the purpose. Lord Prime’s plans for the purple Etherian traveled down the hive mind the moment he graciously agreed to abide by their customs, along with a stray thought that should the clone succeed or fail, Prime would be content either way. And with two days gone already, he had a good idea of what fate had in store. The clone shivered at the thought, glad none of his brothers were around to see him express emotion. Or so he thought.

“Greetings, brother!” Another clone announced his presence as he appeared out of the brush.

“Brother.” The clone acknowledged him. All clones were content to exist in the light of Lord Prime, but this one seemed extraordinarily chipper in comparison to their other brothers.

The excitable clone somehow managed to perk up even more as he came closer. “I have been sent to assist you.”

The Dour Clone bristled slightly. Of course, he was considered too much of a defect to accomplish even this simple task on his own. His hand tightened around the trinket he kept tucked away in his sleeve. It was an unremarkable crystal left behind in the debris when the rebels escaped The Velvet Glove. But for reasons he could not understand, the clone felt attached to it. Holding it brought a comfort that not even Prime’s light could give.

The Chipper Clone took The Dour Clone’s scowl as a sign that his ruse had not worked and hastened to add. “This place interferes with the hivemind. I’m sure you’ve noticed. That’s why you didn’t know I was coming and why you’ve been assigned help.” Of course. Of course, that must be the reason. It explained everything. This planet affected not just him but all the clones. He relaxed, knowing that he was not alone in this struggle. 

The Dour Clone led the way out of the forest and into the heart of the Fright Zone. He wasn’t sure why he chose to continue his search in a largely industrial. But somehow, he knew the song could only be found here. He should have been more unsettled by these foreign instincts creeping into his consciousness. But something about the futility of this mission reassured him. The Dour Clone knew he was unlikely to find the song within four days, and since he was already going die for it, why not see where this led?

The only thing still puzzling him was the presence of The Chipper Clone. There were two logical possibilities. The first was that this brother was sent to oversee the completion of the mission and follow through with execution when he inevitably failed. The second was that this brother was sent to kill him and replace him entirely. Though, if that were the case, why was this brother content to follow him rather than getting it over with? He wished this planet didn’t interfere so much with their connection to the hivemind so that he could see his brother’s intentions himself.

He entered the main structure and started winding his way downward through abandoned hallways. Whoever made this place home had long since evacuated the premises. Or so it appeared. Every few turns, his ears picked up on a shuffling noise above or behind them. Small vermin, probably. This planet seemed to have an endless supply of pests of all sizes. His Chipper Brother was startled at the noises, but The Dour Clone felt unusually compelled to overlook it. If his brother could overlook his defects, he would continue the precarious stalemate in imperfect mannerisms. Finally, the door was in sight. There was nothing significant about it compared to the others. No markings, windows, or labels. Only the strange sense that this was correct. He typed a code he shouldn’t have known into the security screen, stopping to ponder his automatic actions only after the door opened. Neither clone could properly guess at the purpose of the room. It was too sparse to be a lab, too well furnished to be a prison, and in too much disarray to be a storage room.

The Dour Clone paused there for a moment. Yes, this was the place, but what to do next escaped him. He started blasphemously searching his mind for more impulses or ‘memories’. Carefully, he guided the crystal from his sleeve into his hand, tracing the inscription with his thumb. Nothing. But what else could he have expected from trusting strange notions sent to him by the magic of a corrupt world? He should have known better. Now, he had wasted not only his time but Lord Prime’s. His mission would fail, and he would be executed. Rightfully so.

“Brother?” The Chipper Clone frowned and stepped forward to interrupt his spiral. If The Dour Clone didn’t know better, he’d have thought his brother was concerned. How strange. Come to think of it, he never-

A weak discordant chime rang from the far corner where a broken clock struck six. The crystal hummed in his palm, and in a flash, he knew. The tune coming from the clock was splintered. Notes were missing, but it was close enough. She once told him how much she loved the song and the birds it originated from, to the point of proposing they begin work on a conservation program, assuming the creatures were not already extinct. He carefully studied her diagrams for land allocation. In truth, he never understood her fascination with the bird. It did not seem practical. But this meant something to her. He was going to help her start the project as a gift. Before she left. Or… No… that wasn’t right. What happened? Something happened…she didn’t… she… who was she? The memory was gone before he could grasp it, but it led him to what he needed. A plan.

“All is well, brother.” The Dour Clone said as he approached the remains of the clock. “We can use what remains of this archaic device to make what Lord Prime needs.”

“Yes.” Said The Chipper Clone, jolting to attention. “That is good, brother.” he paused a moment before carrying on a little too quickly. “Now that you have things well in hand, I have been summoned to another task. Farewell.” The Chipper Clone waved (a strange gesture that his brother chose to overlook), turned on his heel, and left.

“There you are!” Bow’s voice cracked with the slightest twinge of anxiety. “Entrapta, I thought we all agreed to use the buddy system.” The archer stepped into the clearing where the scientist stood tapping away at her data pad while her hair held an antenna up as high as it could go.

“We did,” Entrapa said. “Kadroh and I left together.” The group was quick to decide that calling their rescued clone friend ‘Wrong Hordak’ was starting to feel strange. So they had agreed to call him ‘Kadroh’ until he found a better name for himself. “But we got separated at some point.” Entrapta looked around for him. Considering both of their habits, it was hard to say who wandered away from whom. “I’m sure he’ll turn up.”

“It’s getting dark.” Bow sighed. “Are you almost done?”

“So close,” Entrapta said, turning back to her data pad. “Just a few more minutes and I’ll have everything I need from the signal.” The start of the engagement trials proved to be a fantastic opportunity for the rebellion. They had four days to themselves in a camp near Prime’s signal without having to worry about combat, so long as they weren’t caught. Entrapta was making great strides in decrypting the signal holding sway over the chipped Etherians. She just needed to see a little more of the code to be able to make sense of it. Adora, Catra, Glimmer, and Bow dedicated most of their time to working with King Micah on a plan to deactivate the Heart of Etheria. The rest of the princesses went out on smaller missions to recover chipped friends and bring them back for Entrapta to help. What little time the scientist had between deciphering code and removing chips was spent searching the edges of camp territory for her lab partner. It was tiring work, but for the first time in a while, the rebels were optimistic about their chances. The data pad beeped twice to indicate a successful download, and Entrapta lowered the antenna. “Ready!”

“Good,” Bow replied, trying and failing to hide the stress in his tone. “Where did you last see Kadroh? We need to find him and head back.” As far as he was concerned, everything was going too well. He didn’t trust how easily they managed to stall Prime and how effectively their plans seemed to escape notice. He wanted to be ready when the other shoe dropped and preferred that everyone be together when whatever was likely to happen happened. As if on cue, the bushes rustled to the right of him. In a flash, Bow had an arrow knocked and trained on the approaching clone.

“Do not worry, friends. I am here.” Kadroh called to them, beaming with pride.

Bow lowered his weapon. “I’d worry less if you stayed together.”

“Apologies, friend Bow,” Kadroh frowned apologetically. “But I reasoned that I would draw less suspicion if I completed my mission alone.”

“What mission?” Bow asked, looking back at Entrapta. She shrugged. As far as they were aware, Kadroh hadn't been assigned any specific tasks outside of camp.

“Finding my lost brother, of course,” Kadroh answered, tilting his head as if it were obvious. “Friend Entrapta speaks of him so fondly.” He still hadn’t completely grasped the way to address other people, but it was better than calling everyone ‘brother’. “I’ve made it my personal mission to reunite them.”

Entrapta blinked and smiled at the freed clone, trying not to look as surprised by the gesture as she felt. “Kadroh, that’s very,” thoughtful, considerate, kind, “risky. Just because you look like the other clones doesn’t mean you’re safe among them.” Bow nodded in agreement, so she knew she was saying the right things. Entrapta made a mental note to tell Kadroh how much she really appreciated his efforts later. “If one of them senses you’re not connected to the hivemind-”

“Ah, not to worry, friends! I came up with a ruse clever enough to fool him.”

“Then you were lucky.” Bow continued. “Just because you managed to… wait… him? Like him him?”

“You found Hordak?” Entrapta whispered, bringing her hands to her mouth, afraid to hope. But when Kadroh beamed with pride, she couldn’t suppress a squeal of delight. Entrapta wrapped both pigtails around his arms and pulled him towards her with urgency. “Where? Is he alright? Why isn’t he with you?”

Kadroh’s smile faltered. “I should explain. He is not entirely himself.”

“You can explain back at camp.” Bow interjected. “We’re too exposed. Someone might overhear.”

And so, Kadroh told his friends all about his journey to the Fright Zone and his brother’s strange behavior. He was uncertain of the mission’s purpose but Hordak’s fascination with the broken clock was enough for Entrapta to connect the dots. Whether it be through a strange twist of fate or Prime’s sick sense of humor, Hordak wound up being the one chosen to retrieve the song she requested. He would succeed, and Entrapta would be that much closer to having to accept the monster’s proposal.

All of that could be sorted out later. They hoped. After all, there were still two more requests to make and eight more days to plan. The rebellion had certainly done more with less. For now, Entrapta outright refused to rest until she could see Hordak. The other princesses tried to dissuade her from going. If Kadroh was correct, then Hordak hadn’t recovered his memories complete,y and any attempt at a reunion could end in disaster. But the scientist was having none of it. Entrapta was going to the Fright Zone with or without help.

Everyone agreed that Kadroh was the best choice to go with Entrapta under the promise that this time, the buddies would stay together and be back before sunrise. They had a dreaded meeting with Prime the next day, where he would present whatever Hordak was working on to Entrapta. The last thing they needed was for her absence to draw suspicion.

Chapter Text

The Dour Clone gathered what he could and brought it up to the ruins of a better-equipped lab three floors up, ignoring how he knew its location for the time being. He put together a basic player using the surviving chimes and his questionable memories. He very well could have stopped there. The nightingale song was ready to present, and his life was no longer forfeit. But didn’t she deserve better than a simple box? The idea of presenting her the song without any trace of the bird who made it felt wrong. This is what led him to construct the mechanical bird that took up most of his time. It was intricately crafted from the clock’s remaining usable parts, almost identical to the likely extinct creature, and set to produce the song with the twist of a tail feather. Despite himself, The Dour Clone took great pride in the impractical object. He knew she would be delighted. She…

He grasped the crystal again, desperate to remember more, to know her again. To understand why standing in this room in particular filled him with guilt. He was standing here, he realized. Right in this very spot when she gave the crystal to him. Back when… back before… No. Another one of the planet’s tricks. If he had any sense, The Dour Clone would take the mechanical bird, leave the crystal behind, and never return to the sanctum that tempted him away from Lord Prime’s light.

He had almost worked up the fortitude to do just that until a clattering in the vents told him he wasn't alone. The clone lifted his arm cannon and backed away from the opening, preparing to defend himself. There was a shriek from his left. Then, a small winged creature attacked him. He stumbled back in surprise, and the thing seized the opportunity to latch onto his arm cannon. The creature hissed a warning to stop as the clone raised his hand to seize the little beast.

“Wait!” Something soft wrapped around the clone’s raised wrist, keeping a firm but gentle hold on him. The creature stilled, and the clone risked a glance at the tendril restraining his hand to find it was a lock of hair, his favorite shade of lilac. Barely suppressing a hope he didn’t understand, The Dour Clone followed its length to see her . A weight lifted from the clone’s heart at the sight of her descending from the vent. He practically collapsed from the sheer relief of seeing her alive, unharmed, and as vibrant as he remembered her. “He doesn’t want to fight.” She spoke cautiously, and the idea that she might fear him hurt more than it should have. “He was just trying to protect me.” The creature, Imp, now taking a much more relaxed stance, chirped at the clone. A question, he realized.

“It’s alright.” He reached out to scratch the boy’s chin. Imp, now thoroughly reassured that the fighting was over, swished his tail in satisfaction and jumped down to stand by her side.

“Hordak.” Her hair caressed his cheek gently as she released her hold on his hand, and he leaned into the touch. “It is you, isn’t it?”

He flinched. That word. That name. Try as he might to escape it, the sinful moniker always lurked in the back of his mind like a threat. But hearing it in her voice, he was safe, powerful, and maybe even loved. What was he thinking? Yes, loved. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, Entrapta loved him.

“Entrapta.” He whispered in adoring recognition. That was her name. The woman he held so near and dear to his heart that he could never fully forget her. The one who saw his flaws and still chose to look upon him with kindness. The one whose loss shattered him to the point where losing himself entirely held more appeal than facing his grief. “It’s you.” He reached out to make sure this was real and ran a gentle finger down her cheek.

Tears filled Entrapta’s eyes as she let out a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a sob, grasped his hand in her own, and held it to her face. “Yes. Yes, it’s me.” The princess couldn’t hold herself back anymore. She threw herself at Hordak, throwing her arms and hair around his middle. “You’re here.” She sighed. “I’m so happy to see you again.”

Hordak returned her embrace, still reeling from the reunion he thought he’d never get the chance to have. “Can you ever forgive me?” He mumbled into her hair. “I should have known. But by the time I heard about what happened… I thought I was too late.”

“I know.” Entrapta hugged him tighter. “Catra and Scorpia told me everything. You really thought I would leave you like that?” She couldn’t hold back the hurt in her voice. Entrapta didn’t want to ruin the moment, but it did need to be addressed.

“I was a fool.” Hordak aquiesced. “I did not know how a broken clone like myself could deserve the affections of someone as brilliant as you. I still don’t.”

“You are not broken.” Entrapta stepped back, using a lock of hair to pull his face closer to hers. “And I love you.” She said, once their eyes met. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it earlier.”

“As am I. I love you, Entrapta, and I will never doubt you again.” Hordak pressed his lips to hers with the gentle ardor of sealing a promise.

A scuffling noise, followed by chittering, pulled the couple’s attention away from their reunion. “What have you got there?” Entrapta asked Imp, who was currently on the work table examining the mechanical nightingale.

“I made it from the salvageable pieces of your clock,” Hordak explained as they parted to gather around the little invention. “It’s for you. To play the song you asked for.” The last few words came out slowly as Hordak took stock of the situation. He was ordered to find the song by Prime, who needed it as part of a challenge to win the hand of an Etherian princess. “Entrapta… what is going on?” And so Entrapta recounted Prime’s proposal, Glimmer’s idea to use their old traditions as a stalling tactic, and how she came to ask for the seemingly impossible to find bird song. “If I bring this to Prime, you will have no choice but to marry him.” Hordak looked down at the mechanical bird with newfound disgust.

“I mean, it’s not a guaranteed thing. I still have two more favors to ask for.” Entrapta shrugged, trying to sound optimistic. The little automaton was beautiful, and the fact that Hordak made it for her could be seen as a sweet gesture if it weren’t for their current circumstances. “But yeah, it’s not ideal.”

Hordak thought about Entrapta aboard The Velvet Glove; her vibrance drained away to uphold the persona of a perfect empress by any means necessary. He couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t. “I need to destroy it.”

“But… Wait a minute!” Entrapta cried. “You can’t just-”

“I have to.” Hordak snarled. “If I bring this to Prime, it puts you at risk.”

“And if you don’t?” Entrapta used her hair to grab the bird before Hordak could reach it. “What will he do to you if you don’t bring this to him?” Hordak didn’t answer, but he didn’t need to. She was sure she could guess.

“I will… endure it.” Hordak’s straightened posture was betrayed by the way his ears lowered. “What matters is your safety.”

“Come with me.” Entrapta grasped his arm. “Back to our camp. The other princesses have been surprisingly supportive. It’ll be tense, but if you help us defeat Prime, I’m sure they’ll be open to working something out.”

“I cannot, Entrapta. And not for the reasons you think.” Hordak removed her hand from his arm and gestured to one of the surviving digital time pieces in the sanctum. “Do you remember our study on temporal fluctuations in magic?”

“Of course!” Entrapta nodded. “It was a fascinating study, but we were… interrupted before we could make any real conclusions.”

“Yes, well, I’ve made enough observations on my own to argue its validity.” Hordak removed the crystal from his shirt sleeve and presented it to Entrapta.

“You found it!” The princess gasped. She had been kicking herself since letting it fall out of her pocket aboard Prime’s ship. Hordak finding it was almost too good to be true.

“Since finding this, my mind has been going through cycles.” He explained, taking the crystal back. “Starting at six, I get flashes, memories. If I focus in on them, I can retain some information and be as lucid as I am right now. But once twelve o'clock comes, it all goes away again. It’s… hell.”

Entrapta looked at the clock: five minutes till midnight- and hoped she didn’t look as devastated as she felt. “So you’re going to forget me again?”

Hordak nodded. “I do not want to. But for your own sake, it’s best if you go now. Once midnight arrives, I will be compelled to betray you.”

“Friend Entrapta!” A familiar voice startled the couple. Hordak rushed to place himself between Entrapta and the clone headed their way. The princess side-stepped Hordak with an apologetic smile, promising him that there was no danger. The slightly familiar clone spoke again once he was no longer at shouting distance. “Please. We promised the princesses we would stay together.” Entrapta gave the clone a sheepish apology before introducing the two clones formally. Hordak couldn’t help the amused huff that left him when he realized that this ‘Kadroh’ was the brother who had accompanied him earlier. There was still so much to be said, but time was running out.

“You need to leave,” Hordak demanded. “Take Imp with you.” He gave the boy an affectionate pat on the head before transferring him into Entrapta’s arms.

“Promise me something.” Entrapta grasped his arm with her hair.

“I will not remember enough to-”

“Please!” The princess glanced at the clock. One minute left. Hordak relented. “Don’t destroy it,” Entrapta begged. “I’ll figure something out. I’ll bring you back. For good. But I can only do that if you’re alive. Promise me you won’t destroy it.” Her hair tightened on his arm in desperation.

“I… swear,” Hordak promised between gritted teeth. “Just go. Hurry.” And with one last ‘I love you,’ Entrapta ran from him. She was out of sight just in time for the clock to strike twelve. The clone blinked, collecting himself. Odd, he had no memory of the past few minutes. Another glitch in the hivemind, no doubt. Damn this planet. No matter. He finished what he came here to do. All that was left was to present his creation to Lord Prime.

Chapter Text

They did not stop until they passed the border of The Fright Zone, at Kadroh’s insistence. Once safely behind the treeline under the cover of night, they stopped to let Entrapta’s eyes adjust to the darkness. She glanced down to check on Imp, the little one still tucked safely in her arms. The boy flicked his tail in a belated greeting but couldn't bring himself to smile.

“Yeah,” Entrapta said, releasing her hold so that he could perch on her shoulder with some difficulty. He had grown since she last saw him, and it saddened Entrapta to think that someday she wouldn't be able to carry him like this again. He barely fit on her shoulders as it was. “I missed you too.” His tiny claws dug into her shirt, and she heard him growl softly over her shoulder. Kadroh backed up a step in response. “It's alright,” Entrapta said while using some of the hand signals Hordak had taught her. “He's safe.”

“Safe.” Imp echoed back in her voice. He settled into a more relaxed stance but kept his eyes narrowed.

Kadroh gave them a wide berth as he walked forward to speak with Entrapta face to face. Having limited experience with… well… everything, he wasn't entirely sure what to say. But he knew enough to understand that some form of comfort was necessary in this situation. So he settled on, “I am sorry, friend.” He thought about placing a hand on her vacant shoulder, but as if reading his thoughts, the winged child(?) wrapped his tail around the back of his caretaker's (parent's? Biological families still confused him.) neck and rested it there.

“Sorry? What are you sorry for?” Entrapta asked with honest confusion.

“You were crying.” Kadroh cocked his head. “That is a sign of sadness. If I hadn’t left you to search for my brother earlier then-”

“Then I wouldn’t know how to help him.” Entrapta interrupted him, thinking how best to explain the swirl of emotions fighting for a spot in her mind. “I meant what I said, Kadroh.” The princess started the walk back to camp. She always did her best thinking while in motion. “I’m going to bring him back. Permanently. I just need time to figure out how.”

“Speaking of the need for time.” Kadroh hurried to catch up with the princess. “Your meeting with Prime is only hours away. Do you know what to ask for next?”

“No.” Entrapta groaned, tugging on her hair in frustration. “Not anymore.” The situation had changed drastically. It was a miracle Hordak had the wherewithal to remake the bird song she asked for. There was no doubt he would be assigned to complete the next task or die trying. Asking for the impossible wasn’t going to work anymore, not if Hordak was to survive this. Entrapta briefly entertained the idea of simply asking Prime to hand over Hordak. But she didn’t know how willing he would be to do so or if that would make him suspicious. The princesses knew Prime only participated in the tradition as long as he thought he could succeed. He intended to get what he wanted one way or another. Anyway, as long as Hordak was connected to the hivemind, he could be used against the rebellion as a spy. No, as much as she wanted to ask for her lab partner back, Adora was too close to deactivating the Heart to take that risk. “I will figure something out.” Entrapta tried and failed to sound optimistic. Her lab partner’s frequent tizzys were starting to become more understandable. She was a princess of science, damnit! The leader of a nation. Every side of the war had sought her out for her intelligence at some point or another. Yet, here she was, leaning on her friends to find solutions for her. Surely, she could use her acclaimed reasoning skills to unravel this mess.

One thing was for certain. Kadroh’s anxious hovering, though well meaning, was not helping her train of thought right now. “You’ve been a wonderful help, Kadroh.” Entrapta tried to reassure the anxious clone. “And if I may, I’d like to ask you to continue keeping an eye on Hordak.”

“I’ll do better than that, friend Entrapta.” Kadroh practically bounced up with renewed encouragement. “I’ll see what I can do to help my brother recover his memories.”

“Carefully,” Entrapta warned. “If another clone realizes you’re not connected to the hivemind-”
Kadroh waved off her concern. “Do not worry for me. I’ve already proven myself a master of deceit.” 

It didn’t hurt that none of the controlled clones had reason to suspect a brother would lie to them, but Entrapta didn’t argue that point. “Please,” she urged Kadroh to listen. Entrapata was starting to understand the misgivings her friends felt whenever she charged forward on a mission. Irony truly was a cruel thing. “One wrong move and you both could be lost.”

“There’s nothing to fear.” Kadroh continued. “Why, it was just the other day that friend Seahawk was telling me your planet’s stories about the invincible magic of ‘True Love. ’ What you and my brother have can't possibly be anything else. And with that on our side, not even a false god can stop us!”

Entrapta winced as Kadroh's voice rose into a determined proclamation that carried through the forest. She glanced around their immediate surroundings, checking for unwanted company. It was unlikely, but if Beast Island taught her anything, it was never to assume you are alone. The princess signaled Imp, who nodded and took off into the tree line for a more thorough search. Entrapta never got the chance to confirm with Hordak, but she was fairly certain Imp had some form of dark vision. “Kadroh, those are just…” The princess started trying to form the words. She could very well imagine the boisterous pirate recounting fanciful tales of dragons, poisoned fruits, and hidden towers. They were entertaining to be sure, but perhaps not the most helpful at the moment. “I mean, ‘True Love’ isn't…” Then again, what would be the point of dampening his spirit? Especially after he'd been so supportive. She couldn’t do it. “What I'm trying to say is that ‘True Love’ is… rare. Many people think they have it only to find… conflicting data later.” Kadroh merely smiled and shook his head, a mannerism he must have picked up from Sea Hawk. Entrapta tried not to take it as condescending.

Before he could respond, Imp shrieked a few feet away. “Go!” Entrapta urged Kadroh away with a whisper. And be careful.” No sooner had Kadroh disappeared into the treeline than Imp had flown back to Entrapta's shoulder, glaring in the same direction he had come from. She started heading for camp, pretending not to notice. Branches snapped as the tall figure followed her. The Clone wasn’t trying to be sneaky. Entrapta stopped. He’d catch up fully within a few strides anyway. She saw his glowing eyes first, different from the other clones’, more smug, and containing bright white pupils.

“Dear princess.” The unmistakable, imperious voice of Prime greeted her. “What a surprise to find you here. At this hour.” Imp hissed a warning not to come any closer. Prime ignored it, sneering down at the boy with abject disgust. “And with company.”

Entrapta moved a ponytail over her shoulder, blocking Imp from view as best she could. She would have preferred he hide somewhere, but the way his little talons dug into her shirt sleeve made it clear that would not happen. She took her opportunity to scrutinize the possessed clone. Glimmer and Catra had described it before, but to see it was entirely different. And despite herself, she was curious. “You’re doing this through the hivemind, right?” She asked. “Is there a time limit? Is the clone you possessed still conscious in there? Does it hurt them?”

Prime smirked and grabbed one of her ponytails to make an examination of his own. “There is no limit other than how long I can stand occupying the body of a lesser being. It is an honor for my little brothers to witness my consciousness, and I neither know nor care.” Entrapta had to hold herself back from striking him with the hair in his hand. “However, since you are interested, I’d be happy to give you an in-depth look at the hivemind once you’ve settled in on my ship.” Any other time, Entrapta would have been ecstatic about the offer of new data. But the memory of Prime’s insidious proposal weighed heavy. He dropped the hair, having observed what he needed to, extended his hand for her to take, and frowned when Entrapta stepped just out of arm's reach. “I must admit when one of my sentries alerted me to the fact that my intended was walking the woods at night, I grew concerned.” He stalked forward. “As my bride-to-be, you must strive to be more careful. Anything could happen amongst the shadows.” She wanted to bite back that there were still two more tasks to complete but decided not to push her luck just yet. “I will escort you back.” He reached for her, only for Imp to land a good scratch on the back of the possessed clone’s hand. He reared back in anger, ready to retaliate, but Entrapta was faster. She pulled Imp off her shoulder and held him up out of reach, with one ponytail, chiding him. The boy only succeeded in hurting Prime's host after all, and it wasn't the clone's fault. “Do not waste your breath, princess,” Prime growled. “That thing is the failed creation of a deeply flawed experiment and should be put out of its misery.”

Entrapta turned on Prime with a ferocity she didn’t realize she was capable of. “You’re not going to touch him.” To hell with diplomacy. This was the man who tortured Hordak, enslaved her friends, and threatened her world. He was not worth holding back for. Her other ponytail wrapped tight around his throat and shoved him back as far as it could reach. Prime's grin of satisfaction only infuriated Entrapta more until a voice cut through her anger. Her voice.

“It's not him you're hurting.” Imp repeated the words she told him just moments ago, returning her to her senses. She released her hold on Prime’s host.

“I've misjudged you, my dearest.” Prime chuckled as his feet met the ground. “I needn't have worried for your safety.”

Entrapta pulled Imp back into her arms, and the boy curled up against her. If he was afraid or trying to comfort her, she couldn’t tell. Maybe it was both. “You didn't come here to protect me. You thought I was running away.”

Prime hemmed in response but did not refute the accusation. “My empire is one of mercy and protection. It is good to have an empress who can fight for those same values.”

“I am not-”

“You will be.” He stepped to the side, reassessing, circling her.  “Once I've clipped away your wilder weeds, you will be a perfect empress, most brilliant, most beloved at my side.” This time, when he laid a hand on her shoulder, Imp did not react. “I am glad to find you here, Entrapta.” Hearing her name spoken in Prime’s voice sent a chill down her spine. “Until recently, I’ve only known you through my wayward brother's memories, and our negotiations are hardly conducive to social engagement.” He pushed her forward, walking them to the princesses’ camp. “Now that we have a moment to ourselves, I'd like to commend you on your first choice of favor, the birdsong. You see, I, too, enjoy collecting the rare and extraordinary, and this one was a worthy challenge. So much so that I'd almost thought your request to be deliberately impossible.” Entrapta winced as he tightened his grip enough to draw blood. She kept her eyes trained straight ahead. They were within sight of the camp now. Just a little bit further and they would be safe… well, safer. “Of course, you wouldn't be so foolish as to attempt such a thing. Not when you're so fond of my little brothers. I would hate for you to be the reason one of them is… dismissed.” Prime smiled as he felt her tense under his grasp. “I see all, dear princess. Remember that.” Entrapta practically jumped over the border of the rebellion’s campsite the moment she was close enough, not bothering to turn around when Prime bid her goodnight. Coming from him, it sounded more like a threat than a farewell.

Chapter Text

Entrapta quietly slipped into her tent for the night. The other princesses must all be asleep by now, and she needed time to decide what to tell them about her night. A curious beeping in the corner signified that either she had woken up Emily or the sweet little robot had been waiting for her to return. Imp perked up immediately after hearing his playmate. He leaped from Entrapta’s arms to his favorite perch on top of Emily, swishing his tail and chittering. Entrapta took the opportunity to inspect her shoulder while the ‘kids’ were getting reacquainted. The scratches were located dead center of where her top left a gap, and too precisely spaced for anyone to believe it was a tree branch or thorn bush. They would scar, but weren’t nearly as bad as they could have been, given the clones’ inherent strength. He was sending a message then or leaving her a memento. Probably both. She sighed and turned to her computer, choosing not to give Prime the satisfaction by dwelling on it.

Entrapta knew it would be wiser to call it a night, but her mind was buzzing with everything that had happened, and she was so close to hitting a critical point in her signal interception project. A few more lines of code before bed couldn’t hurt. Emily’s right leg had been clicking, which was probably another issue with one of the bolts. That would be a quick fix. She could get that done tonight and not have to worry about it in the morning. And now that she thought about it, when was the last time Imp ate anything? The poor kid must have been scrounging for food for who knows how long. She should find something for him so he wouldn’t go to bed hungry.

A few hours after sunrise, Entrapta woke to find herself hunched over her desk with a familiar but distinct ache in her midback. She looked back at the invitingly comfortable, neatly made bed behind her, where Imp now slept and giggled lightly. At least someone was using it. Entrapta checked the work she had fallen asleep on, first to check if it was coherent, then to ensure she saved her progress.

“Traps?” Scorpia called from outside. “Are you awake?”

Entrapta stretched and responded with a voice still creaky from sleep. “Come in! I’m just finishing something.”

Scorpia, ever wearing her heart on her sleeve, rushed into the tent with a relieved sigh. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re back.” She plopped down on the bed next to Imp, who yelped in surprise and displeasure at being awoken. This did not interrupt her stressed rambling. “I tried to stay up to wait for you to come back, I really did. But it got so late and I fell asleep, and before I knew it, the sun was up and I hadn’t seen you and…” Entrapta closed down her program and stood, giving Scorpia a reassuring pat on the head with her hair. It was a gesture for them both. The day was going to be challenging enough as it was, and Scorpia’s anxiety did nothing to ease Entrapta’s own nerves. Scorpia took the hint. “Anyway, you’re back. What happened? Did you find Hordak?” She looked around the room as if expecting Entrapta to have brought him back with her. Then Scorpia caught sight of her shoulder. “Did he do that?” She asked in alarm.

Entrapta winced. “No.” She really hoped it wasn’t that noticeable. “I mean, yes, I found him, but he’d never hurt me. That was… Prime.” Entrapta went on the recount the relevant parts of the evening to her friend, who grew more horrified with every detail. Entrapta’s insistence that she was fine and Prime seemed to have a vested interest in her welfare did little to calm her. Especially when Entrapta was to meet Prime within the hour.

Though she would have preferred not to have an audience, the other princesses insisted that her going alone was not an option. And so they met again just as before on either side of the fragile border between camps. Prime, in his own body this time, was flanked by two clone guards, identical save for the scratch on the hand of the left one. Entrapta felt a pang of guilt as that clone eyed her warily. She wondered how much he remembered and made a mental note to apologize to him later if she could.

“You’re even more lovely in the light of day, dear princess.” Prime greeted her cordially, though from him it sounded like a joke. “I feared our late-night stroll might have left you too weary for our little engagement.”

Entrapta couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her, startling everyone present. “I’ve lost more hours of sleep for less than a walk in the forest.”

Prime frowned. Apparently, he was expecting a different reaction. Good. She wasn’t as predictable as he thought. “Yes, well, I am pleased to announce that your first request has been fulfilled.” He snapped his fingers, and a clone carrying a golden cage stepped forward, bowed, and presented the object to Entrapta. She took the cage awkwardly. Being waited on by the clones, even this small amount, made her feel sick. Inside was the nightingale automaton Hordak made for her just yesterday. Her relief at seeing it whole, that Hordak hadn’t risked his safety by destroying it, must have looked like wonder to Prime. He gave a satisfied smile, and Entrapta was grateful he mistook her reaction. “Now, what will my princess have for her final gift?”

“Just a minute, now.” Glimmer challenged. “Our tradition specifies three requests. You still have two more.” Entrapta told her friends exactly what she was going to ask for. She gave Emily her old six-sided hex driver and told her to hide in the Fright Zone with it for four days, then give the tool to Hordak. She would claim it was left in the sanctum and ask Prime to locate it for her. It would be a good way to keep Prime from fulfilling the request too early. Meanwhile, spending all that time searching in a familiar place might help Hordak recover his memory. All in all, they agreed it was a solid plan. 

But then Prime’s grin changed into something more amused. “As I recall, my beloved made her second request last night. To show mercy to the little pest.” All four sickly green eyes watched Entrapta, unblinking, challenging. “Unless you do not want me to spare the abomination after all. If there is something else you would prefer, I will happily remedy the misunderstanding.”

Entrapta laughed again and used her hair to lift herself up to his height. “Imp may be small, but he’s not helpless. You’d never catch him.”

“Another challenge, my princess?” Prime quirked an eyebrow. “Are you prepared to test that theory?” Entrapta pulled herself back slightly. No, she wasn’t. As confident as she was in Imp’s stealth, there was always a chance. Hordak trusted her with the little guy’s safety. She couldn’t very well send a hunting party after him. Prime seemed to take her silence as a refusal. “Another time then.” He drawled. “Though I am glad to see you still have spirit. It will make your time at my side very entertaining.”

Entrapta tried to tune out the threat. He was trying to unnerve her, distract her from delaying him further. It was working. She still could ask for the hex driver like she planned, but this was her last chance, and suddenly it didn’t feel like enough. Her fingers tapped the bars of the gilded bird cage, willing her mind to work faster to think of something. But she was so tired of this game, of the thinly veiled threats, of dancing around the point of the matter. Clever as she was, deception and half-truths were never Entrapta's expertise. Everything would be so much simpler if everyone spoke plainly. As a matter of fact, why shouldn't they? Who benefited from it really? Not the alliance. Prime knew this was a ploy from the start, and in this game, the wrong request had dire consequences for her friends. He confirmed as much last night. So what was the point of playing? To buy time for her and Adora, to distract him from their plans to deactivate the Heart of Etheria. Entrapta's program to disengage the signal was maybe an hour's work away from completion, while Adora would be on her way to Mystacor after this. So long as Prime remained distracted, time shouldn't be a problem. Then there was Hordak to think about. As sick as it was, so long as the game continued, Hordak was useful, indispensable. It was his punishment after all, fulfilling the requests that forced Entrapta to marry a monster.

Actually, there might be something there. Entrapted looked down at the mechanical bird, mentally pulling on the thread of that last thought. Yes, there was definitely a theory forming. Prime was not the one to make this bird; hell, he wasn’t even the first to present it to her. The one who actually completed the first task was Hordak. Prime may have stolen the second request through trickery, but even then, that just put them at a tie. If she could just think of the correct wording, Prime would lose before he even realized it.

“You can’t do that!” Frosta yelled, her fists held up, ready to summon her power. For the princess of a frozen kingdom she was always fiery. “You cornered her. It’s not fair!” Looking around, it seemed she wasn’t the only one outraged by the turn of events. The rage, frustration, and pain from years at war threatened to boil over, and if she didn’t say something soon, things would get very bloody. 

“It’s fine.” Entrapta used her hair to lower Frosta’s fists with a look at the other princesses that she hoped came across as ‘trust me’. “I wasn’t specific enough. It was my mistake.” Her friends seemed to get the message, at least enough to back off. Entrapta thought carefully before continuing. Honestly, compared to this, she’d had an easier time diffusing bombs. “My final request is something I lost on your ship.” She said to Prime. “It has sentimental value and got left behind in the scuffle. I will only marry the one who can figure out what it is and return it to me.” If Prime suspected an ulterior motive in her statement, he didn’t show it. He merely said it would be done and took his leave of them.

“Entrapta.” Queen Glimmer pulled her aside as soon as it felt safe to talk. “That wasn’t what we talked about. Do you know what you’re doing?”

“It’s a… working theory.” It wasn’t the response Glimmer was hoping for, but it would have to do. She needed to talk to Adora before she left.

It didn’t take long to find Adora. She was with Catra and Melog at the center of camp, waiting for the rest of their group. The warrior princess was pacing, and while Entrapta didn’t catch exactly what Catra said, it was probably meant to be something soothing. Melog was the first to notice her approach and made a rumbling noise that she assumed was a greeting. Adora and Catra turned to her, and Entrapta realized too late that she was probably interrupting something.

“Entrapta.” Adora smiled. She always made an effort to speak to her like a friend. Entrapta always appreciated that.

“Come to wish us luck?” Catra laughed in a tone that was almost like the confident way she used to carry herself. Despite everything, Entrapta was glad to hear her as herself again.

“No,” Entrapta answered before realizing how that sounded. “You don’t need luck. There’s something you should know about what Hordak and I were studying before…” Catra winced, and she decided to leave it there. “The power fluctuates.” She continued mostly to Adora. “We didn’t get a lot of time to look into it, but there’s definitely a cycle. Etheria’s magic is weakest at twelve. If you can wait, deactivating the Heart might be easiest then.” Catra muttered something about invasions and not learning that sooner before Adora nudged her with her elbow. Adora thanked Entrapta for the information while Catra remarked about how good it was to hold information that Shadow Weaver didn’t have.

“So… how are you doing?” Adora asked. Neither of them had a chance to talk since the proposal. It felt like a stupid question the moment it was uttered, but Adora couldn’t think of anything else to say.

Entrapta didn’t know what to say in response either. “I’m… as expected…” She hesitated. “I guess. How are you?”

“As expected.” Adora laughed in a voice laced with stress. “But really.” She looked back at Entrapta with sincere worry. “Will you be alright?”

Entrapta put her hands on her hips and waved off the concern with a ponytail. “Sure, I will. I’m good at figuring things out. You have your communication pad?”

Adora pulled the electronic tablet out of her pack to confirm she did. “Your program?”

“It’ll be ready in time.” Entrapta lifted herself on her hair with pride. “There’s just one last line of code to puzzle out.”

“And it’ll work?” Adora asked, and Entrapta tried not to be insulted by the question. When had anything she made not worked? Sure, most of her inventions went through explosive phases before they were ready, but she always got them working eventually.

“Even if it doesn’t.” Catra cut in, a bit overly desperate to maintain her sense of humor. “I’m sure there are worse people Prime could have picked to be empress.” No one laughed. Entrapta excused herself to complete her project, and despite her insistence that they didn’t need it, Adora wished her luck.

Chapter Text

Hordak tapped his wrist with his index finger twice, signaling Kadroh that he had recovered his memories again and it was alright to speak freely. “How long did it take this time?”

“Four hours, brother,” Kadroh answered as he relaxed his posture. Since his acceptance into the rebellion, Kadroh had mostly lost the habit of calling other clones ‘brother’. However, something about their shared severance from the hivemind made the label feel appropriate. Hordak snarled. “Do not be discouraged.” The more optimistic clone continued. “You are progressing.”

“It’s not enough.” By the hour of twelve, all of his memories became lost to him once again, like… well, like clockwork. And though Hordak was regaining his consciousness faster with each cycle, it was slower than he liked. He was no help like this.

Kadroh waved his hand dismissively in a way Hordak was certain he learned from the princess of Salineas. “All will be well in the end, you’ll see. Friend Seahawk told me many tales of True Love’s success against the odds. Perhaps it would lighten your spirits to hear one.”

“No.” Hordak was barely able to suppress a scoff. Though he never bothered to listen to the stories himself, he knew enough to be sure that they were not much more than fantasies. When this was over, Hordak would make sure to provide Kadroh with a more practical education on Etherian history. “I’d rather hear about Erelandia.” Hordak hurried to change the subject. Or rather, return to an old subject. Kadroh took the liberty of recounting his time with the rebellion during Hordak’s moments of lucidity. It was good to hear what transpired while they were parted, though he could have done without Kadroh's added commentary about personal revelations. It felt strange to be informed of rebellion operations without the intent to set up counter maneuvers. Still, he was grateful. The fatalistic part of him couldn’t help imagining what could have happened to Entrapta without Kadroh’s help.

“Oh yes. Erelandia.” Kadroh looked up at nothing in particular, trying to recall. It had been a long day of questions from his brother, followed by hours of rigid conduct and careful word choice. Watching Hordak fight to regain his senses, only to lose himself and start again, was chilling, to say the least. It brought about unpleasant ideas on what would have been if his friends hadn’t accidentally broken his pod aboard the Velvet Glove. In short, Kadroh was drained in nearly every sense of the word, and his enthusiasm was reaching its limit. “Brother… I think I need to take a break.” He apologized.

Hordak nodded, seeming to understand. It was for the best. His muscles ached from overuse, and the quiet was welcome after hours in the constant buzzing of the hivemind. There was a time long ago when Hordak thought of silence as a curse. How wrong he was. “You are doing well.” The statement earned him a look of surprise from Kadroh. Hordak’s leadership style never overly relied on positive reinforcement. Any rare words of affirmation were reserved for Imp in the privacy of his sanctum. But he was coming around to the idea that it could be helpful, and Kadroh seemed to thrive on encouragement. “I understand it is difficult to adjust.”

Kadroh’s brief smile faded into something more pensive. “I’m lucky,” He mused. “My connection was interrupted too soon to know what it’s like. The others… it will be more difficult for them.”

Hordak was ashamed to realize this never occurred to him. Up until he met Kadroh, he only ever viewed the other clones as a surveillance threat, fellow cogs in a sadistic machine that he had to hide his defects from or risk decommission. Of course, Kadroh was right. In a best-case scenario where the rebellion succeeded, the hive mind was disabled, and the planet remained intact, that still left hundreds of lost and confused clones to fend for themselves. “Your help is appreciated thus far. If given the right resources, I am sure the others will adjust.” Hordak could practically see the weight being lifted from Kadroh’s shoulders, and he was thankful not to continue the conversation when they were interrupted by a familiar murmuring.

Hordak called to his little spy that it was safe to approach. Imp turned the corner slowly on all fours, not flying as was his preferred way to travel. A bad sign. “How is she?” Hordak did consider that using the boy to keep an eye on Entrapta for him could be seen as overbearing and swore to apologize when the situation was less dire. After all, it wasn't Entrapta he didn't trust. Imp padded forward, furtively glancing at Kadroh before jumping to Hordak’s shoulder. As a result, Kadroh’s break was shorter than he hoped for. The minute Imp was done, Hordak practically charged in the direction of the princesses’ camp. 

“Brother. Wait.” Kadroh tried to reason. “I don’t think this is wise.” Hordak knew he was right. Intellectually, he knew Entrapta was fine. She didn’t sound distressed in Imp’s report, and he knew she was capable, but his heart would not stop racing until he saw her for himself. Not after what happened last time they were separated. Kadroh all but jumped in front of Hordak in an effort to stop him. It wasn’t difficult, and Hordak tried to push down the feeling of resentment that clawed its way up from his chest. It wasn’t the younger clone’s fault that he was faster, stronger, more well adjusted. It was difficult not to be irritated, but there was one skill Hordak managed to master that Kadroh had not. Intimidation.

“Stand aside,” Hordak growled, and though it didn't have the same effect as it would have back in his sanctum, it was enough to give Kadroh pause.

“I don't want to fight with you.” The sense of conflict on Kadroh's face was so apparent that Hordak almost felt bad for putting him in this situation. Almost.

 “Then don't. I must see Entrapta. I do not expect you to understand, but you will not get in my way.” Something small tapped Hordak's ear, causing it to flick reflexively. Insects. No matter how long he spent growing to appreciate this planet, Hordak would likely always be irritated by bugs. It happened again, and Hordak snarled. Kadroh relaxed a little. No doubt because Hordak's commanding presence was all but ruined. A third time and he grasped the irritant before it could get away, only to feel silken strands intertwine with his fingers. Ah, of course. Hordak turned to look up in the tree where Entrapta sat on a branch, giggling to herself. The sight caused his heart to race in a whole new, far more pleasant way. “Amused are we?” He offered his other hand to help her down, and Entrapta took it. Not because she needed it, but because it was Hordak, and taking his hand was a better alternative to leaping into his arms like she wanted to do.

“Sorry.” Entrapta laughed, waved to Kadroh, and eased down the branch. “Your ears are just so cute, I couldn't resist. Someday, when we have kids, I hope theirs are just like yours.”  At the mention of potential offspring, the ears in question turned a very particular shade of scarlet. “Oh.” Entrapta hesitated, realizing too late what she had just said. “Was that too much?”

“Not at all.” Quick to recover, Hordak kissed the back of her hand and hoped the action came off as charming. “I've had similar thoughts about your eyes.” Nice as it was to forget their current situation for a short time, the sight of claw marks on Entrapta’s shoulder violently thrust Hordak back into the matter at hand.

Entrapta followed his gaze and moved her hair to block his view. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

Hordak doubted that. Ever so gently, he pushed her hair aside to examine it closer. “Oh, Entrapta.” The all-too-familiar mixture of despair and wrath tried to overtake him, but Hordak pushed past it. “What can I do?” he asked, begging for a task, a purpose, some way to help her. Here she was enduring Prime’s threats, and he could do nothing. He'd never felt so helpless. Yet, to his surprise, the question made Entrapta grin with excitement.

“There is one thing.” She answered conspiratorially and pulled him closer. “The last task. I figured it out.” Entrapta lifted herself up on her hair to match his height, growing more excited with every word. “He didn’t give me the bird song. Not initially, anyway. That was you. Prime thought he was punishing you by making you find it, but he was really doing us a favor.” Entrapta went on to explain how Prime cheated his way into completing the second task and how she planned to circumvent him.

Hordak turned the crystal over in his palm as he ran through everything he’d been told, looking for potential flaws. “And that was your exact wording?”

“I couldn’t have made it more clear.” Entrapta crossed her arms with a satisfied smile. “I will only marry the one who found what I left on that ship and can bring it to me.” Then she flushed as a thought struck her. “That is if you want to.” She hurried to add. “I mean we never talked about it. I never asked. I shouldn’t have assumed.” She lowered herself back to the ground and fidgeted with her mask.

Hordak couldn’t help but be endeared by the rare sight of a flustered Entrapta. Still, if she thought for a moment he wouldn’t give anything to be at her side, then it was his duty to remedy that. Careful not to strain his still aching joints, he knelt down on one knee as he learned was custom on Etheria and held out the crystal to Entrapta. “If this is what’s necessary to earn such an honor, then giving you this will forever be my greatest accomplishment.” 

The worry on Entrapta’s face was quickly replaced by a radiant, tender smile. She placed her hand in his, the crystal nestled safely between their palms. Kadroh hummed excitedly and whispered something to Imp that neither of them could quite catch. Imp tugged on Kadroh’s sleeve, recruiting him to help look for Emily. But the couple was too lost in their elation to care about being observed. Their lips met as they fell into a loving embrace. Entrapta pulled back only once to ask, “To be clear. You do want to marry me?”

“Yes, my love.” Hordak chuckled softly at the question before devotedly claiming another kiss.

Prime pondered the princess’s request, combing through every word. It seemed simple enough, but he didn’t like her confidence. Was it possible that she took the night to realize what a blessing it was to have his proposal? Could she have come to her senses that quickly? It was possible. He chose her to be his empress because she was clever after all. Unless it was that same cleverness that allowed her to see something he could not. It shouldn’t be possible. It couldn’t be possible. Prime sees all, knows all, rules all. A simple Etherian, no matter how smart, how accomplished, how striking, would never get the better of the Emperor of the Universe. The simplest answer had to be the correct one. The match was perfect. Their union would begin a beautiful era in his domain that would last until her dying breath. Prime was successful in convincing the princess of as much last night, and she, very wisely, chose to complete this game fairly.

Satisfied with this conclusion, Prime reached into the hivemind. He delved into the thoughts of the defect to give him his new orders and… Oh. How interesting .

Entrapta felt Hordak shudder against her, and the kiss deepened to something greedier, insatiable. His grip tightened to the point of restraint, and she was gasping for air by the time she found a chance to pull away.

“My princess.” Prime's voice taunted her through Hordak's mouth. “What have we here?” Entrapta struggled to free herself from Prime’s grasp, but she couldn’t without hurting Hordak. “If it's affection you're after, I would have been happy to oblige last night.”

“Let him go!” An incensed Entrapta screamed at Prime. “You can’t do this! Hordak!”

Prime grabbed her hair by the roots and stood. “I believe I can, my dear. If memory serves, you are out of requests.” He hissed in cold fury. His free fist clenched around a sharp, smooth surface. He opened his palm to find a relic from that long-extinct civilization, short-sighted enough to call themselves ‘First Ones’, and suddenly everything made sense. Entrapta watched in despair and horror as Prime shattered the First One’s crystal, shards digging into Hordak’s palm, staining them with blood, and tossed the remnants away. “Your trinket is found. The game is won. Now resolve to ask nothing more of me.”

“Hordak.” She pleaded. “Hordak, please, if you can hear me, you can fight him. Don’t let that monster do this to you.”

“Careful, princess.” Prime grasped her face with a bloody hand, forcing her to meet his eyes. “I am not the monster here. Sharp as you are, you fail to understand my little brothers are an extension of me . Tools. No more themselves than a single lock of your hair is to you.” Prime used an index finger to sever a few errant strands for emphasis. “He does not love you.” He snarled. “You only confuse him. What's worse is that you insist on putting him in danger by encouraging him to stand between us.”

“Friend Entrapta!” Kadroh shouted, no doubt altered by the sounds of a struggle. From what Entrapta could tell, he wasn’t far. She wasn’t sure whether to yell for him to hurry or hide himself.

“Ah,” Prime smiled joylessly. “The other little lost brother. You have the most interesting effect on them, my dear.” Kadroh barrelled into the clearing only to halt dead in his tracks. Whatever he imagined was happening, this was worse. “Unless you wish them dead, you will stay exactly where you are,” Prime demanded before turning his attention back to his unfaithful bride. “Heed me now, princess, as you will not get another warning. You have until midnight tonight. Come to my camp, pledge to spend the rest of your life at my side, return the clone you stole from me,” He sneered at Kadroh, “and forget the name ‘Hordak’ or I will make you and his death and the death of your planet will be on your conscience.”

Entrapta yelped as she was unceremoniously dropped to the ground. Before she could react, the possessed Hordak was transported away with the snap of a finger. “No!” Entrapta yelled her frustration to nobody in particular, still shaking from fear and anger. She didn’t see Kadroh kneel to check on her and flinched when he placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’m fine.” She answered the unspoken question while wiping away tears.

“What now?” Kadroh asked, wishing he had something even as minor as a tissue to offer his friend. Barring anything else useful, he settled for collecting the crystal shards that littered the ground.

Entrapta took them from him gratefully. “I need to finish the code.” She sniffled. “And tell the princesses.” Once her legs stopped shaking enough, she stood. “Can you find Emily? I came out here to get her, but…” She was too overwhelmed to finish the sentence. “Imp will help.”

Kadroh nodded. “And then?”

“We’ll figure it out,” Entrapta said both to the clone and to herself. And she would. Devastated as she was, this was not the end. Prime accidentally revealed one crucial flaw in his empire today. He did not understand what his clones were capable of. They could use that. Somehow.

Prime moved to his own body the moment the defect was sent to be reconditioned. It was an immense relief. He would have pitied the clone’s near-constant pain if it hadn’t been deserved for his disobedience. With that unpleasant matter settled, Prime moved on to other preparations. No being alive had ever refused him, and so long as he reigned, it would stay that way.

Chapter Text

It was a nightmare. Try as he might, Hordak could not push Prime out of his mind. The monster overrode his senses and took control of his body to threaten the person closest to his heart. Every word was laced with the promise of suffering to come. Worst of all, he could hear Entrapta calling out to him, begging him to fight it. He was failing her again, losing her again. First to betrayal, then to death, now to a fate far worse. He could feel Prime's cold, cruel delight as he devoured each panicked thought. 

‘He does not love you.’ No! ‘You insist on putting him in danger.’ Not her! He could feel her hair writhing beneath his unyielding grip. She could break free. He knew she could; all it would take was a quick, sharp turn of his wrist. But she would never risk hurting Hordak, and Prime was thrilled by the prospect of having her trapped.

Please. Hordak begged. I will give you anything. Just release her. Don't- Some strange internal wave silenced him, forcing him further back. No words were spoken, but he could feel Prime's oppressive disdain. The sounds of struggle were fainter now, but still audible. Prime wanted Hordak to hear every word he was forced to speak.

‘Friend Entrapta!’ Kadroh. Hordak would have sighed if he had control of his body. Yes. Kadroh was coming. He’d get her away from here. He'd put an end to this.

‘Unless you wish them dead, you will stay exactly where you are.’ And just like that, Prime had them. Hordak should have known better. Kadroh would never risk it. His poor, naive brother didn't realize they were functionally dead either way. Prime listed his demands to a still-struggling Entrapta, and Hordak drowned in every word until finally he released her. The next second, he was aboard the Velvet Glove, headed for the reconditioning chamber, and too exhausted to fight it. All he could do now was hope that Entrapta would find a way out without him and take solace in the fact that his last thoughts would be about her. Entrapta, my love. He pleaded as he unwillingly stepped into the pool. Forgive me. I wasn’t strong enough. The electric current hummed against his skin, preparing to destroy his consciousness for good. Please, find a way to save yourself. The pool glowed and sparked. Hordak braced himself against the horribly familiar slices and jolts of reconditioning that came before cursed ignorance.

“Welcome back, brother.” It was over.  It was over? Hordak blinked. He still had his name, his memories. How in the universe? The other clone must have taken Hordak’s confusion for wonder. He smiled gently at Hordak. “We are all renewed under Horde Prime’s light.” He greeted his brother.

Hordak recovered quickly, mirroring the other clone’s posture and tone. “Our lord is merciful.” This seemed to please the other clone, who let him go without another word. Hordak rounded the corner and, after making sure he was truly alone, leaned against the wall to breathe. It didn’t make sense. He was still aware of the pain in his joints, his proposal to Entrapta, the way his heart soared when she accepted, and his newfound desire to protect Etheria. Did the chamber malfunction? Was this another process influenced by the temporal fluctuations of magic? Hordak closed his eyes to check his other senses. A small, sharp pang emanated from his left palm. Ever so carefully, he plucked a delicate purple shard, no bigger than a thorn, which had embedded itself in his skin. The crystal! Prime broke it only moments ago. Was that why reconditioning didn’t affect him? Did broken First One’s technology still hold its magic? Or did it breaking release his memories? There were too many questions to think about now. What mattered was that, despite all odds, Hordak was still himself. He’d been given one final chance to fight for Entrapta. He wouldn’t fail this time.

“Once the system gives the all clear, you can press this button,” Entrapta instructed Bow. “From there, it will release a scramble code into the signal, and the hivemind will dissipate.” Entrapta wished she could sound as confident as she felt in her work, but given her recent encounter with Prime, how hastily she completed the code, and her unavoidable union being only hours away, she couldn’t muster the energy to be enthusiastic.

“It looks great,” Bow said, inspecting her work. “Thank you.”

The scientist lowered her mask to hide the tears welling up in her eyes. It wasn’t that Bow’s reassurance wasn’t welcome, but his being overly kind only made her want to break down more, and she didn’t have the time for that. She had to make sure her friends could continue on and defeat Prime without her. “Will you tell Adora I’m sorry?”

Bow turned away from the laptop to look at her… well, not eye to eye but close enough. “There’s nothing to apologize for. You’ll see. Adora will-”

“I said, stay back!” Frosta’s voice carried across the camp, and everyone ran to see what was wrong. There at the border of their camp, a clone stood perfectly still in front of Frosta’s upraised ice fists.

“I am here for that one.” The clone pointed to Kadroh, who was also summoned by the commotion. “He belongs to the Galactic Horde and must come with me.”

“You’re not taking anybody!” Frosta yelled, continuing an argument that had been going on for some time. “You tell that pompous-”

“It’s alright, Friend Frosta.” Kadroh placed a hand on the youngest princess’s shoulder and looked back at the group with a smile that didn’t match his frightened eyes. “It is inevitable, after all, isn’t it, brother?” Entrapta couldn’t say for certain, but she could have sworn she saw the clone hesitate and… was that a wink? “

You are wise not to resist the light.” He said. “Come. It is time to rejoin your brothers.”

Kadroh addressed the group of uncertain resistance leaders with a small bow. “Goodbye, friends. It’s been a pleasure.”

“Wait!” Bow cried. “You don’t have to do this. We were given until midnight. Don’t you-”

Kadroh held up a hand to silence him. “I don’t want to be the reason more violence starts again.”

Bow, thoroughly baffled by Kadroh’s newfound casual attitude, pleaded with Entrapta. “You can’t possibly want him to leave. Help me talk him down.”

“I don’t know what to say.” She spoke honestly. This was all too much. The joy of her reunion with Hordak, the horror of being ripped from him, maybe forever, the dread of her union with Prime, and now Kadroh leaving them willingly all left her unable to think clearly . It was like Beast Island all over again. Sent away with nothing to cling to except a myriad of questions mingling with a vast array of emotions that only served to exhaust her mind and leave her feeling hollow.

“We will see eachother again,” Kadroh spoke far more sprightly than the situation should have allowed. “Until then, Princess Entrapta.” Without another word, the clone placed a hand on his shoulder and guided Kadroh away. Entrapta excused herself to have a moment with her thoughts. Alone in her tent, she wrapped herself in her hair as if it were a blanket. Needing something to do with her hands, she pushed shards of the broken crystal around on the desk, absently trying to piece it back together. All was not lost, Entrapta told herself. Adora was still on her way to The Heart of Etheria. She’d deactivate it soon. Bow would use her program to shut down the Hivemind. She did a good job. The mission didn’t really need her anymore. From here on out, with or without her, Etheria would be okay. Her friends would be okay… most of them at least. Kadroh was gone now, perhaps losing himself at this very moment. And Hordak… a tear slid down her cheek to fall on the largest sliver of crystal. If there were a way to bring Hordak back without the crystal, Entrapta couldn’t think of it. Not with there being so little time left.

Whatever Prime had planned after she wed him couldn’t be good. She’d likely be chipped and lose herself to the hivemind as well. Not forever, of course. When Adora and her friends succeeded, Entrapta would be left a grateful widow with Emily and Imp to keep her company. Not a terrible fate, but without her lab partner, it all felt so bleak. Entrapta moved the last piece into place and… a piece was missing right in the center of the First One’s writing. But Kadroh picked up everything that was left. They couldn’t have… That clone… Kadroh’s strange behavior… the wink! How in Etheria could she have overlooked something so obvious?

“Emily! Imp!” Entrapta cried, jumping out of her chair with newfound energy. “Bow! Come quick! We have work to do!” It would be a big risk to take with such little evidence, but if there was even the smallest chance, Entrapta would do it.

Hordak stopped suddenly just out of the princess’ camp, accidentally yanking on Kadroh in the process. 

“I am cooperating.” The younger clone jerked out of his grip with no small amount of irritation. Interesting. Hordak was beginning to think Kadroh might be incapable of that emotion. “There’s no need to be rough.” Kadroh turned and glowered, actually glowered. Apparently, he was picking up mannerisms from everyone, including Hordak. Unfortunately, Kadroh's lack of practice made it come off more petulant than threatening. Hordak almost found it amusing.

“Apologise, brother.” Hordak tapped his wrist twice. “It was my mistake.”

“It is you.” Kadroh tilted his head curiously. “I thought so. But how? We thought you would have been reconditioned.”

“I was,” Hordak answered. “It didn’t work. Something interfered with the process.”

Kadroh’s eyes widened with wonder. “It’s real then. The power of-”

“Stop.” Hordak interrupted the oncoming sentimental speech. “I don’t know the exact cause, but it likely has something to do with this.” He held the crystal shard carefully between two fingers for Kadroh to see. The chipper clone grinned knowingly, and Hordak held back a groan. “That’s not the only thing it interfered with,” Hordak explained, tucking the shard safely away. “I’m still connected to the hivemind. The mission to retrieve you was a real order from Prime. But it’s more distant now, as if a door existed where there wasn’t before. He can’t see my thoughts.”

To Hordak’s surprise, Kadroh snapped back to his previous, far more annoyed, demeanor. “Then what are we doing here, brother?” Kadroh stepped back a pace towards the princess’s camp. “We have to go back and-”

“No.”

“No?” Kadroh’s frown deepened, and his voice became accusatory. “I don’t understand. This is excellent news. Friend Entrapta has been beside herself worrying about you. How can you-”

“She has done too much for my sake already.” Hordak tried to explain. “I have a plan. But if something goes wrong, if I fail, Prime will certainly take his anger out on those responsible. So long as Entrapta remains unaware, she is safe.” Though he was still hesitant, Kadroh seemed to accept that as an answer. “If you think the risk to yourself is too great, you are free to incapacitate me and return to the princesses. But I would be glad of your help.”

Kadroh couldn’t bring himself to refuse. “Where do we start?”

Chapter Text

He won. His princess was on her way. With a little entourage to see her off, no less. How sweet. A shame she hadn't cooperated sooner. There was no room in Prime’s empire for an empress whose loyalty lay with another. Still, she would have her uses. Her mind truly was a wonder, and the effect she had on his little brothers was indeed something to behold. It wouldn't take long to get what he needed from the princess while she endeared herself to his already pliable clones. It would make things all the more moving when her body was discovered with an Etherian dagger through her heart. Prime would be there as he always was to soothe the grieving masses. His empire would seek merciless vengeance on Etheria's apparent violation of the treaty. He pondered using her blood to paint the word ‘Traitor’ above her corpse to emphasize the tragedy. Perhaps he would even tie a braided lock of her hair around his wrist in a show of mourning for his lovely empress and perfect martyr.

“Brother!” Kadroh hissed as he yanked Hordak away from the door he was charging towards. They both winced when Hordak hit the wall with more force than intended. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Hordak stilled, eyes shut tight and snarling at something beyond their reach. “Right.” He growled. “Forgive me, Kadroh, I…” Hordak took a calming breath. It half worked. “If you could hear the things he-”

“I don't understand how you're hearing it,” Kadroh whispered, peeking around the corner. All clear. “It doesn't seem wise to project that sort of thing across the hivemind.”

“He isn't.” Hordak barely understood it himself, but he just knew. The best he and Kadroh could theorize was whatever interfered with his reconditioning, be it the crystal shard or ‘the power of true love’ made him more or less a ghost in the hivemind. Connected, unobstructed, and most importantly, undetected. Hordak retrieved the code with ease and punched it into the door. Inside the room, resting on a pillow made from the last bits of silk produced by its planet of origin, lay their target, a grand necklace...no a collar in disguise. Bright white and shining like the star it was crafted to resemble, with points on opposite ends long and sharp enough to draw blood with even the slightest careless movement of the head or neck. But the real danger lay within, where a chip waited to embed itself in the wearer's spine. Hordak tore his gaze away from the wicked object to turn to Kadroh, who looked afraid of being swallowed by the thing. “You’ve worked with the rebellion to deactivate chips, yes?”

Kadroh gave his brother a knowing smile. “A little.”

“You’re sure?” Scorpia fidgeted with her claws as they walked side by side. No, Entrapta wasn’t sure. In hindsight, she and Bow should have worked together to make the signal scrambler remote activated from the start. Still, they assembled the remote and got it working with a seventy-five percent chance of success. It would be fine. It had to be fine. She tried to assure herself. It was a simple addition, and Bow was far more capable than he gave himself credit for. They did a good job. Still, making a last-minute change based on a hunch was risky.

“Mhm.” Entrapta hummed, she was never good a lying and hated doing it to Scorpia.

“Like really sure you’re sure?” Scorpia pushed again as she crossed her arms, nerves evident in the way her tail curled in on itself. Entrapta sighed and let her hair hang slack, unable to keep her own fears to herself much longer. Scorpia backed off, mistaking her response for exasperation. Entrapta, at a loss for what to say, looped a lock of hair around Scorpia’s forearm and squeezed gently. She didn’t want to risk what could be their last conversation being clouded by hard feelings. 

“I want you to know.” Entrapta finally said. “If this were a real wedding, I’d have liked you to be my maid of honor.” Scorpia lifted a claw to her face, only managing to stutter out noises Entrapta couldn’t make sense of. And when her best friend proceeded to cry, Entrapta thought for certain she had once again said the wrong thing. “I’m sorry!” Entrapta tried to smooth things over. “I didn’t mean to upset-”

Before she finished the needless apology, Scorpia scooped Entrapta up into a hug so tight the scientist was fairly sure one of her spinal columns was popped back into place. She really was going to miss these hugs. Scorpia did not release her friend until after they arrived at their destination. The very borderline where Prime made his only demand of them.

Just like all the times before, he was there waiting for them with two unfortunate clones on either side. The one on his right carried an imposing piece of jewelry on a silk pillow. Glimmer, to fulfill her duties as queen and offer some form of moral support, walked side by side with Entrapta the rest of the way to meet Prime. She even offered to perform a ‘traditional Etherian ceremony’ as one last attempt to stall. But Prime saw through this attempt and insisted there was no need. Glimmer had to relent.

It was during this exchange that Entrapta’s focus shifted to the clone on the right carrying the device, for up close, she now could see the chip within. It wasn’t surprising. In fact, Entrapta was expecting to be chipped. And she would have felt more dread at that prospect had the clone not winked at her. There was very little fanfare after Glimmer’s offer was tersely refused. Without so much as a word to Entrapta, he snapped his fingers and the clone stepped towards with the intention of locking the accessory around her neck. And just as it was opened, the interior shorted and the hinge snapped.

Prime watched it happen with equal parts fury and disbelief. “What-”

“There’s a shortage of great minds in this world.” The clone on the left stepped forward with a smug smile, placing himself between Prime and Entrapta while slowly urging her back towards her friends. “It’d be a pity to lose hers.”

“Hordak?” Entrapta breathed. He didn’t dare take his eyes off Prime. Not when he could feel the monster attempting to take hold of his mind, the rage and confusion seeping through whatever barrier protected him now. But he did squeeze her hand in answer. Entrapta couldn’t help herself. She took hold of the arm he was using to guard her and held him tight. “I was so worried.”

“There’s been an error on your part.” Hordak took advantage of Prime's clear bewilderment to speak again. “You did not fulfill your end of the agreement. You have no right to take Princess Entrapta away from her home planet.” Prime's mask of annoyance quickly slipped into sharp rage, and Hordak had to fight against all instincts telling him to cower. “Isn’t that right, your highness?” He dared a glance at Glimmer.

“Given the circumstances, yes.” Glimmer hesitated to answer. Pushing aside how strange it felt to agree with Hordak of all people, she elaborated. “Hordak created the bird, found the crystal, and even saw to Imp's safety. By all accounts, he is the true groom.” Bow, able to see which way the tide was turning, found the remote in his pocket while Prime was distracted. He pressed the button and prayed it would work.

“You forget your place, little brother .” Horde Prime spat. “If you insist on standing in my way, then there is nothing to stop me from destroying this planet.” He snapped his fingers. Nothing happened. He snapped again. “What have you done?”

Hordak breathed a sigh of relief, allowing his attention to shift to Entrapta. “Excellent work,” he praised her in a low voice. She grinned back at Bow, who was too surprised by their success to return the look of confidence.

“You!” Prime lashed out. Hordak barely had time to push Entrapta back before he was grasped by the throat. “You polluted little defect. How dare you? You have not yet begun to suffer. I will make you watch as-” But he was interrupted by a great quaking beneath the ground. And as midnight struck, Etheria, the world shifted.

A wave of great magic swept over the land, almost knocking everyone to the ground. All manner of plant life sprang from the ground, overtaking everything its roots could reach. The rebellion looked to Perfuma, but the flower princess was just as shocked as they were. A grand aurora shot up from the planet’s core, and walking out of that light was She-ra.

Hordak took advantage of the distraction long enough to drag his claws across Prime's outstretched arm. Prime winced and released him. Entrapta hurried to catch Hordak, bracing herself to protect him.

“No.” Hordak rasped to her between coughs. “This is not our fight.” And Entrapta could see he was correct. The couple was all but forgotten as Prime faced the current form of his most ancient enemy.

Adora wasted no time. The emperor's end was swift and more merciful than he deserved. In a flash, it was over. They were free under the stars in a world shimmering around them with renewed magic.

“We got your message,” Adora said, looking back to see Catra walking towards them with Imp riding on Melog's back. “The grudge between you and Catra. It's settled now?”

Hordak nodded. “As far as I am concerned.”

“Hordak! You didn't threaten her, did you?” Entrapta turned on Hordak with half shock and half disapproval.

Hordak scoffed lightly and pulled her against his chest. “Of course not. I simply made them aware of a window of time when Prime would be on the planet's surface and they could make good on Catra's apology to you.” 

Catra rolled her eyes. “We would have managed on our own. But yeah, it was kind of helpful.” She and Adora held each other's gazes for a moment, silently sharing something that would stay between them. “It's really over?” Catra finally asked.

“It really is.” Adora nodded. And the memory of an infant with blue eyes nestled in his arms flashed in Hordak’s mind. 

“I believe we have much to discuss.” He told the hero.

Adora smiled softly. “There will be time for that.” And she was right. There would be. But now it was time for celebration, healing, and reunion. Amidst the revelry, Entrapta and Hordak slipped away into the night, where he could finally show her the stars.