AN: To whoever is about to be reading this story: Hi, how's it going? I'm happy to present The Hollowed of Etheria, a She-Ra fanfiction following two of my favorite characters in the show, Kyle and Catra, as they eventually become vigilantes working outside the Horde and Rebellion to fix the world.

This story also happens a few months after the Battle of Bright Moon, and doesn't follow the story of season 2.

Since this is the first thing I'm posting on , I want to know people's thoughts about my work and things like that. So, if you can spare the time to make a review (good or bad), I would be happy to read it and talk about it.

Within the story, there are some things people may not want to read about, such as:

-Quite a bit of blood

-A lot of fighting-

Swearing, mostly from Catra

-Depictions of slavery

-Depictions of torture

And probably a little bit more, so viewer discretion is advised.Anyway, onto the first chapter of The Hollowed of Etheria

000

Kyle resented the morning alarm. At first, he lived with it, dutifully waking up and preparing for the grueling training prepared that day, or rather preparing to be crushed into paste and berated. Now, he utterly hated it as it screeched almost mockingly, knowing how useless he was and still forcing him to rise. It wasn't the only thing he hated, just the most recent one.

Of course, no one knew how he felt. Kyle had made absolutely sure to keep all of his gripes and feelings in check, so that no one would report him to Catra, or Shadow Weaver, or Hordak. It was difficult most days, but Kyle kept going the best he could as the weakest link of his team. Maybe his overwhelming aura of his pathetic existence would end up with something dropping dead out of pity.

Kyle shook his head roughly. Enough of that. I need to get to the simulation hall. He checked the clock in the corner of his dorm. I'm late enough as is.

Scrambling to put his uniform on, Kyle finally stumbled out of his room and made a beeline for the hall, his slow breaths the only sound in the desolate passage. Luckily, there was no one around to lower his self-esteem yet, so Kyle found refuge in his dark thoughts.

I've spent my whole life here and nothing's come of it, Kyle fumed silently. I tried everything I could to be better, and I get shafted in the end. And then, when I try to make a friend, to have something other than self-pity, I… His fists clenched, shaking slightly. I get left behind, thrown away like garbage.Kyle quickly pulled himself out of his headspace, unclenching his hands. "When did I become so cynical?" he whispered to the dark halls. Thankfully, he heard nothing in return. It would be hard to explain his thoughts without revealing his discontent, which would lead to a treason charge, exile, and eventual assassination.

Such is the way of the Horde, Kyle grimly reminded himself.

Navigating through the halls, Kyle made it to the simulation hall, where Lonnie, Rogelio, and Second-in-Command Catra were waiting, eyes burning into him like lasers, already searching for weakness. On the bright side, Kyle figured out the source of his newfound cynicism. It was a small victory, but he took what he could get.

"You're late again, Kyle," Catra purred, her eyes sparkling with wicked mischief. "How can you keep your friends waiting like this?"

Kyle bit back the venom he almost let loose, opting to say, "I don't have friends," as weak as he could.

Catra smirked. "What's that?" she asked, putting a clawed hand to her cat ear.

"I don't have friends," Kyle repeated loudly, avoiding his superior's gaze.

"Don't be so dramatic, Kyle," Catra sighed, strolling to him. "It doesn't suit you," she crooned, running a claw down his face.

Catra's smug arrogance always rubbed Kyle the wrong way. To be truthful, Kyle only came to the training to see if he could finally best a simulation and wipe that haughty expression off her face. It never happened, of course, but he could dream.

"Come on, Kyle," Lonnie ordered. "Let's hurry up and fail again."

"A-alright," Kyle stuttered, taking his place alongside his leader.

The only good thing about Lonnie was that Kyle knew she despised him. It was relieving to know he wasn't liked to his face, rather than behind his back. It was sad that this was what he looked forward to; being insulted directly on a daily basis, but it's what he had to live with.

The hall shuddered quietly around them, projectors flashing with emerald light. Instead of forming another fake world to train in, the projectors created a familiar face: Adora, the traitor, ready to kill all of them. Despite it being a simulation, Kyle felt a little tinge of fear at facing down the best fighter of their squad.

An audience gathered on the higher floors, peering down on the cadets. In his heart, Kyle knew they were here to mock him, but he didn't care to worry about that. Instead, his eyes were trained on the illusion, the fear slowly replaced with a cold determination that chilled his blood and focused his mind on the task ahead. Tensing up, Kyle widened his stance, ready to move at a moment's notice.

The false Adora lunged forward, quickly closing the distance, her sword glinting. Lonnie intercepted her with staff in hand, growling lowly. Before he even thought to move, Kyle felt a vise close around his arm and pull him away from the clash, throwing him to the side. Registering that Rogelio had been the one to pull him away, Kyle recovered, taking the time to watch the exchange from the distance.

The illusion was good at what it was meant to do; fight. Breaking the lock with Lonnie, the copy kicked her away, dodging a swipe from Rogelio's claws before slamming a fist into his stomach, forcing the lizardman to double over. The copied Adora took the initiative, kicking Rogelio into the ground. From his spot, Kyle watched as Lonnie stabbed at the illusion with her staff. Copied Adora dodged, the weapon passing within a hair of her cheek. Reflexively, the simulation slashed with her sword, and Kyle almost thought he could see a tiny glint of red liquid soar through the air, splattering on the floor.

Blood? Kyle realized in horror. Wait… are they trying to kill us?

Lonnie scrambled back, blood staining her shoulder, her staff abandoned at the copy's feet. The copy picked up the staff, examining it. Sheathing her sword, the copied Adora casually snapped the staff in half, stalking toward the fallen cadet with an empty look in her eyes. Lonnie's face changed from her usual seriousness to disbelief and fear as she attempted to pull herself away from the approaching clone.

That look of helplessness spurred Kyle into action, sprinting toward the copy. In that moment, it didn't matter that he was the weakest link, or that he was looked down upon, or that he hated most of the people in this place. All that mattered was that there was a person who needed help. That thought made him run faster, faster than he ever had before. Everything he learned over the years finally clicked just as he reached the copy.

Leaping forward, Kyle landed a kick square in the copy's side, throwing her away from Lonnie. While she tried to recover, Kyle pulled up Lonnie, keeping an eye on the copy Adora. Rogelio had also recovered, joining the other two cadets in facing off against the copy.

"I didn't need your help, Kyle," Lonnie said poisonously. "I was just caught off guard."

"Then I should have let you die then, right?" Kyle shot back, annoyed.

Lonnie regarded Kyle for a moment, her eyes burning with anger. "Just stay out of my way," she spat, charging the copy Adora.

Kyle was about to charge after her when his arm was caught by a rough, scaly hand. Tugging violently, he said to Rogelio, "Let go of me, Rogelio! We need to help her!" The hand closed tighter, so Kyle stopped struggling, watching helplessly.

Lonnie advanced on the copy, throwing a punch with her good arm. With incredible finesse, the copy spun underneath the punch, forcing one makeshift baton into Lonnie's gut, winding her. With the other baton, Copy Adora swung it against her knee, eliciting a crack so loud it popped Kyle's ears. Lonnie cried out, buckling to one knee. The copy violently kicked the cadet across the face, knocking Lonnie's head into the ground.

Kyle had seen enough. Pulling as hard as he could, he finally escaped Rogelio's grip. Stumbling, Kyle pulled himself up and ran as hard as he could, straight toward the copy. This time, however, the copy heard him coming and threw one of the batons toward Kyle. Reflexively, Kyle caught the weapon out of the air, maintaining his unrelenting sprint. He was already swinging when he approached the clone, finally managing to score a good hit on it. The copy faltered, glitching from where it was hit. She turned her gaze onto Kyle, empty eyes staring into him. In return, Kyle straightened, holding the baton in both hands, keeping eye contact with the copy.

Let's hope all my nightly training pays off, Kyle thought. I didn't push myself that hard for nothing.

The copy engaged Kyle with a violent swipe of her baton, which Kyle barely intercepted. She attacked twice more, each swipe crashing against Kyle's baton with incredible force, buckling his arms each time she hit. Noting his disadvantage, Kyle scrambled back, giving himself space to regroup.

She's too strong to block, Kyle mused. I'll need to get around her and take her down, but… He stared down at his arms, shaking like twigs. My arms are already weakening. I need to finish this now.

Copy Adora launched forward, abandoning the baton and pulling her sword off her back. Rolling out of the way, Kyle ran toward the weapon as fast as he could, hoping he could get it without being beheaded. Luckily, Kyle couldn't hear the copy chasing him, which gave him time to pick up the baton. Turning to see what happened to the copy, Kyle saw Rogelio fighting with her, his thick skin deflecting her sword blows. For a moment, it looked like Rogelio had gained the upper hand as he began his assault, forcing the copy on the defensive with powerful punches.

Kyle felt a little relieved, but he knew the copy wouldn't be occupied for long. Taking the opportunity, he shot toward the copy, batons readied. As he approached, Kyle dropped into a slide, knocking the copy's feet from under her. Recovering quickly, Kyle gripped the batons tightly, before driving them into the copy's skull as hard as he could.

Glitching violently, the copy let out a garbled final breath and disappeared into nothingness. Kyle looked down at the space where the body was and felt instantly ill, his stomach queasy. He had crushed the copy's skull, killed it. It didn't matter that it was an empty shell of Adora, a copy made to be destroyed. It felt like he had truly killed her. The feeling was not something he relished.

"How pathetic." Kyle snapped from his thoughts to face Lonnie, who was positively seething with hatred. "You can't even kill someone without losing your lunch, can you?"

Kyle finally had enough. "What, exactly, is your problem with me?" he asked quietly, hands tightly clenching around the batons. "Why does it matter that I can't kill someone in cold blood like you can?"

"Because I shouldn't be outdone by a weakling like you!" Lonnie snapped, completely losing her cool. "You're completely worthless, a meat shield to be used when we're in trouble!" As she spoke, Lonnie approached Kyle, almost towering over the shorter cadet. "Everyone here would be better off if you just died!"

Kyle felt like he'd been stabbed. He knew Lonnie didn't like him, but that the hatred ran so deep surprised him. A part of him wanted to break down and cry in front of everyone, so the audience could have their laugh and finally leave him alone. Instead, Kyle summoned up all the coldness he had in him and turned to Lonnie, staring at her with a gaze as empty as the copied Adora's was.

"Maybe it would be better," Kyle replied thoughtfully. "Then again, when you screw up, who can you blame?" His tone turned icy. "It's gonna be a lot harder for you to use me as a crutch if I'm dead, so do something or get out of my way."

Lonnie stepped backward, not expecting harshness from Kyle of all people. Taking this as her decision, Kyle walked from the hall, flinging the makeshift batons to the ground. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Catra quickly scampering out of sight, probably to notify Hordak of what transpired. At that moment, it didn't matter. Kyle had already made up his mind on what he was going to do next.

Kyle needed to leave the Horde.

000

The halls seemed to stretch on forever as Kyle walked urgently to the dorms, ready to put his plan into motion. He tried not to seem too urgent, but time was of the essence if he was to pull this off without immediately getting shot at. Sucking in a breath, Kyle walked a little faster, trying to banish the image of failing from his mind as he approached the dorms.

Entering the room, Kyle went straight for his cot and pulled out a piece of paper from underneath the frame. Skimming the words one last time, he couldn't help but feel a little bit ecstatic about what he was doing, a nervous energy that had him bouncing on his toes. Taking a steadying breath, Kyle folded the paper and shoved it into his pocket, practically bounding across the room to the ventilation system. With practiced ease, Kyle slipped each screw loose, taking off the vent cover as quietly as he could and placing it on the floor.

This is it, Kyle thought happily, unable to keep the smile off his face. I can leave this miserable place for good!

Slipping into the vent, Kyle replaced the cover as perfectly as he could, making sure no sound escaped. Pulling out a flashlight from his other pocket, Kyle clicked it on, relieved that the light actually worked, and began progressing through the shaft, completing the first step in leaving his life behind.

When he was well into the ventilation network, Kyle shifted into a sitting position, thanking his small stature as much as he could, while pulling out his written plan and reading the second step: Steal Horde gear from Entrapta. Kyle read over the words twice, committing them to memory before continuing down the shaft.

Kyle didn't particularly want to steal from the mechanic princess. Most of the time, he didn't want to do anything that would get him into trouble. However, Entrapta did create a new prototype piece of tech that no one seemed to know the specifics about, though she did say it was some kind of suit. Even if it was useless, Kyle could try to sell it somewhere if he needed to, and he could end up depriving the Horde of a weapon in their arsenal.

A few minutes of climbing through ducts led Kyle to the vent that lead to Entrapta's quarters. Silently unfastening the screws, Kyle pulled the grate into the shaft and looked below, making sure there was nothing that he could land on that would reveal his presence. Shifting his legs to the opening, Kyle slowly began to slide out of the vent, dropping down with only the slightest sound on the metal floor, eyes scanning for anyone else that was in the room. Finding no one, Kyle let out a soft sigh of relief before heading toward his target; Entrapta's lab, a place where he spent a lot of time "guarding" the princess while she worked on improving the Horde's weaponry. At the time, he didn't think it was useful to have to all those sleepless nights and have nothing to show for it, but this time, it might finally work in his favor.

Pulling off one of his gloves, Kyle placed his hand on the biometric scanner, praying to whatever was out there that the scanner was actually keyed into his DNA. For a few moments, the scanner read his handprint, each sweep adding to the crushing anxiety that weighed on Kyle's heart. When the fear threatened to overwhelm him, the scanner beeped happily, the door sliding open with a hiss. Despite being so relieved he could collapse, Kyle stayed on his feet, slowly progressing into the lab.

One thing Kyle noticed was the lifelessness of the place when Entrapta wasn't around fiddling with her project of the day. The dark screens and dead machinery made the place look more like a graveyard, which added an extra weight of fear on top of the anxiety Kyle was already experiencing. Doing his best to push the overwhelming dread aside, Kyle searched about the room for any sort of suit, making sure anything he disturbed was immediately put back into place. Despite his efforts, Kyle came up empty-handed, which worried him. He didn't know how long he would be unnoticed, but this "suit" Entrapta had made might be too dangerous to let the Horde keep around. Calming himself, Kyle rechecked every part of the room meticulously, hunting for anything resembling a suit.

The search seemed hopeless, and Kyle was just about to give up until a metallic glint caught his eye. Whirling, Kyle held up his flashlight, scanning for the source of the glint. Sweeping the light over the corner, Kyle found the glint's source; a black bag leaning dejectedly against the wall, a small note taped to it. Approaching the bag slowly, Kyle carefully reached out a hand, ready to recoil immediately if there was a trap. After what seemed like an eternity, Kyle's fingers finally felt the smoothness of the bag, with no trap to be seen. Forcibly loosening some of his tension, Kyle reached forward, tearing the note from the bag.

"'DO NOT TOUCH, Experimental Horde Gear!'" Kyle read, managing to make out the scrawled mess that was Entrapta's handwriting. "Guess this is it," he thought, taking the bag and throwing it over his shoulder. "Now for Step Three."

Step Three was going to be the most difficult, because it would mean escaping from the Fright Zone into the Whispering Woods, then disappearing forever. However, as soon as he tried to escape, Horde soldiers would start trying to hunt him down. Still, Kyle wasn't going to back down now. He needed to try, whether or not he could truly make it into the Woods. Returning back to the vent in Entrapta's quarters, Kyle scrambled up the wall, gripping onto the vent opening and pulling himself inside, not bothering to replace the vent cover. If they knew he was escaping, they would know what he was doing eventually. No need to cover his tracks anymore.

Moving quickly through the vents, Kyle barely even breathed as he navigated the maze of passages to the outer walls of Hordak's palace. Finding the vent cover, Kyle meticulously pulled off the cover, the cool air of the Fright Zone slamming into him with small, sharp needles. Peering out over the edge, Kyle spotted a series of pipes leading down to the ground. Taking a deep breath, Kyle dropped down onto the first pipe gently, making sure his footing was stable before continuing, moving toward the next pipe. Smoothly, Kyle dropped onto the next pipe below, steadied himself, and continued on.

When Kyle dropped to the third pipe, he heard an explosion of noise from the right, followed by a violent impact above him. Quickly turning his attention to the right, Kyle spotted a green flash across the city and completely panicked, sprinting forward as fast as he could to the next pipe, dropping down with much less finesse as another shot punched a hole in the wall in front of him. Fueled by adrenaline and panic, Kyle ran to the end of the pipe, only to find there was no other pipe below him. Instead, there was a building around eleven feet below, and nowhere else to go. Behind him, another shot impacted, nearly scratching Kyle.

Oh no, Kyle thought, his mind running a mile a minute. I'm gonna die, aren't I? I'm gonna die I'm gonna die I'm gonna-

Enough of this, a voice said within Kyle's thoughts, slapping his panic aside.Think for a moment.

Kyle obliged, the world seeming to slow down as he looked toward the building. It was fairly far away, and he might end up missing the jump and end up dying a fairly painful death. But if he didn't, the sniper would end up picking him off, and it wouldn't matter anyway. Either way, he could end up dying, failing miserably at his plan and being just another casualty of the Horde, but he wasn't gonna stand there and do nothing any longer.

Now, make your move, the voice ordered, and Kyle couldn't help but notice the voice sounded just like him. Maybe that meant he could trust it. Maybe Kyle was just crazy, but at this point it didn't really matter.

Steeling himself, Kyle broke into a sprint, quickly closing the distance to the edge of the pipe. Reaching the edge, Kyle took one last breath and leaped, leaving the safety of the pipe and hoping to whatever was out there that he wouldn't die as he fell through the empty air. Looking down, Kyle watched the street pass below, and felt relieved as the roof of the building came into view underneath him, even as the impact of landing sent shockwaves through his legs, forcing Kyle to stumble in an effort to recover. He wasn't dead, though, which was better off than he thought he was going to be.

The violent blare of alarms began to sound throughout the Fright Zone, shocking Kyle back into focusing on his escape. He wouldn't be able to outrun the entire Horde on foot, since his stamina was already dwindling. However, there were several skiff stations around the Fright Zone as a way for soldiers to easily transport themselves across the city. Kyle had forced himself to memorize the station locations in case he finally decided to go through with leaving, and it seemed that today would be the day he would finally use that information. With the plan in mind, Kyle forced himself to run, fueled by his dwindling stamina and determination, in one last gamble to escape.

000

The wind tore at Kyle with icy fingers as he navigated the skiff through the dingy city, breathing silent thanks to whatever had given him such luck. Somehow, his Horde credentials hadn't been erased from the guard installations, so "borrowing" a skiff was an absolute breeze. Still, something felt off to Kyle. There were no guards around, even while the alarms were blaring violently throughout the Fright Zone. The citizens had all disappeared from the streets as well, making the city far more desolate and empty. Narrowing his eyes in suspicion, Kyle pressed the skiff's lever down, driving the vehicle through the narrow streets.

In a few minutes, Kyle finally found himself on the main road out of the Fright Zone. Looking ahead to the massive gate, Kyle saw why there were no guards on the streets as a Horde tank rolled to the front of a blockade of other skiffs, blocking the only route to escape.

Once again, cold fear tried to worm its way into Kyle's heart, but he quickly stifled the feeling. Now wasn't the time to despair, even though it would definitely be warranted. Instead, Kyle slammed the acceleration lever to the floor of the skiff, the small vehicle roaring toward the massive war machine. Slowly, the cannon rotated toward Kyle, slinging out a shell. Veering violently, Kyle evaded the shot, the skiff wobbling unsteadily as it tried to recover its equilibrium. Gritting his teeth, Kyle pulled on the lever, stabilizing the skiff and darting past the tank toward the blockade. Watching as the assembled soldiers readied their weapons, Kyle jerked the lift lever, forcing the skiff into the air and barely cresting the top of the blockade.

As he shot through the main gate of the Fright Zone, Kyle let out a whoop of excitement, forcing the skiff to go as fast as it could go. He did it, he finally did it! He escaped the constant bullying of the Horde and was free to make himself what ever he wanted! But... what now? He couldn't go to the Rebellion, if him getting thrown onto a pile of his teammates was any consideration. The Horde obviously didn't want him, which was why he left in the first place. The only thing Kyle could do was head to another kingdom and blend in, before figuring out what in the world he was going to do next. Right now, however, he needed to get to the Whispering Woods, which were on the horizon and quickly approaching.

Approaching the border, Kyle pulled back on the acceleration lever, slowing to a comfortable speed as he wove through the trees, finally being able to get a chance to breathe without being shot at by any snipers or blown apart by a tank or killed in a thousand other ways. With nothing else to do, Kyle's mind wandered far away from the Whispering Woods, away to some other place where he could live far better than he once did.

Maybe I can head into Plumeria, Kyle thought, so lost in his head that he didn't hear two metallic noises on the underside of the skiff. Then again, the whole plant thing may be a little too much for me. Maybe I could-

Kyle snapped from his thoughts, hearing a strange beeping sound that slowly rose in pitch and tempo. Halting the vehicle, Kyle started to look over the skiff to find the source of the ever increasing beeping. Finding nothing on the edges, Kyle looked underneath, spotting two black discs with red lights attached to the fuel cells of the skiff, a shrill whistle coming from each of them. Scrambling back in alarm, Kyle whirled around and started to run as the Horde seeker mines went off.

The explosion threw Kyle into a tree, ribs cracking from the impact. Crying out, Kyle lay limp on the ground, his chest feeling like it was on fire as the world started to darken around him. Rolling onto his back, Kyle felt a wetness on his side, raising his hand to find blood coating his glove. Dropping his arm, Kyle let out a long, rattling sigh, feeling suddenly lightheaded.

Just... my luck..., Kyle thought as he finally gave into unconsciousness.

000

EN: As usual, Kyle ended up with a bad hand. Obviously, this isn't the end, so I encourage you to stay tuned, and I hope the chapter was as good as it should be.

Leave a review, good or bad, and I'll take it into account. With that said and done, I'll see you next time.