Chapter 7

After lunch, Meta Knight left the Lor Starcutter to retrieve its mast while Magolor pinned himself up in his little work room, drawing up several new blueprints. By the time Meta Knight returned, carrying the light-weight bubble containing the ship's mast, Magolor was printing out his completed drafts of some new stages, different from the ones he made before in a special way. With a simple toss, the mast lifted out of Meta Knight's hands and floated over to its post, fusing back into place with a blinding sparkle of white light. The Lor alerted Magolor, both to the mast being back in place, and to Meta Knight's presence. The little alien left his papers on his desk as he met up with the blue knight on the deck of the Starcutter, which remained stationary in its dry sand dune.

"That was fast!" Magolor said eagerly. He was still emitting that violet aura, and his eyes were still red, though his mouth seemed back to normal, hidden behind his scarf once more.

"It didn't get too far away," Meta Knight replied, resuming to wear his cape snugly around himself. "But before we can try your idea for training, we need to cover the basics."

"Basics? What do you mean?" Magolor asked quizzically, with a tilt of his head.

"Your idea is good for practice, but it's not ideal for training. First, we need to lay out what you can do. Then, we focus on each of those things for the desired results and control. Practice will come after that."

"Oh, I think I get what you're saying. What's the first step, then?"

"As I said, we first lay out what you can do. Tell me everything you know you're capable of."

Magolor proceeded into lengthy explanations of his powers. He started by telling about his phasing, and his failed attempt to recreate it. He detailed the lavender fireballs, and the feelings that brought them out. He described his summoning, and how he already felt comfortable with that ability from transferring his stages. Then he tied that together with his electric spheres, and wrapped it up with the intangible pulse that accompanied all these things.

"That's first, then." Meta Knight concluded.

"The pulse?" Magolor asked, holding his gloved hands together.

"Yes. It sounds like that's the source of the power, and if you can keep that under control, everything else should be easier to contain," the knight explained as he turned, looking back at Magolor with a side glance. "I suspect that's why you're still...'overcharged', is perhaps the word for it."

The little alien separated his hands as he looked down at them. Opaque darkness bubbled like cool river foam around them, in a perpetual motion that still hadn't ceased. And although he couldn't gaze at his own eyes, he knew they were still red, thanks to a saturation of that color in the hue of everything he saw through them. He hadn't taken notice of his ruby-tinted world until now.

"Like the others..." Magolor whispered aloud without realizing. He wanted to know who these others were. Were they people like himself? What did they become? Would the Lor ever be willing to tell him?

"Let's get started." Meta Knight commanded, interrupting his thoughts.

"R-right." Magolor stammered, putting his attention on the masked fellow.

Meta Knight lead the darkness-radiating alien out of the comfortable Lor Starcutter and into the hot desert. He walked, his boots providing the gentle sounds of dry sand being crunched under metal while Magolor hovered effortlessly over those same pointy grains. As they traveled out into the distance with this steady pace, the heat of the sun in the clear sky above laid down on Magolor's clothes, inviting sweat to draw out of his ovoid body and into his garments to keep it company.

"Where are we going?" He asked less out of curiosity and more out of discomfort, drooping over in a slight hunch, the heated fabrics feeling weighted on his form.

"Just to a little cave. It will be where we work on your focus." Meta Knight responded simply.

Magolor suddenly took notice that, despite this swordsman being wrapped up like a burrito with that thick, dark cape, he wasn't showing even the slightest bit of discomfort walking around in the hot air and warmed sands. The metal mask and boots weren't slowing him down, either.

"Isn't it kind of...um...er...I mean, aren't you a bit...uh..."

"I've been out here many times. I'm used to the elements." Meta Knight answered while Magolor was still fumbling his words.

"Er...okay then."

Once they were out far enough for the Lor Starcutter to be reduced to a glinting speck over the dunes and distance, they came upon a half-dome shaped cave, yellowed and rocky, its dusty mouth yawning wide with diluted shade. Meta Knight walked in no differently than he'd been walking for the entire time, while Magolor wavered in the air behind him, and promptly collapsed as soon as the shade concealed him from the sun's presence. With his face in the stony, hardened sand of the ground, he heaved for air, feeling like he'd traveled three times the distance they actually did. The air of the cave was filled with hot dust, offering no relief, threatening to pave his throat with its dryness.

Meta Knight turned around to face the weathered alien, just in time to see him flopping on the ground, bending and arching like a fish stolen out of its creek, wrapped in dark violet fog.

"I can't breathe!" Magolor gasped.

The knight's only reaction to this dramatic display was a rolling of his eyes. He said and did nothing else, allowing Magolor to have some time to himself with his struggle for air. The oval wizard continued to do so for about a minute before he finally calmed down, still breathing the harsh air, but breathing it with the realization that he was, in fact, not suffocating. He tiredly picked himself off the floor, and wobbled back into a careful hover, his cape wafting from a warm breeze tumbling through the cave.

"Are you ready to begin?" Meta Knight asked patiently.

"Why do we have to do this here?" Magolor questioned, a slight whine in his tone. "The Lor would've been fine too, wouldn't it?"

"Think of it this way," the knight explained. "If you're going to use this power to defend yourself, then you want to be able to focus through anything, including battle situations, ideally. That's why we're in this environment. If you can concentrate here, then concentrating anywhere else should be easier for you. Besides— " His eyes locked with Magolor's redness in a sudden, quite serious gaze. "You said you wanted to get control over these powers, correct?"

"Y-yes. Absolutely." Magolor responded stiffly, frozen like a mouse held in a snake's stare.

"That means you need to be willing to do whatever it takes to achieve this. It's not going to be easy."

"I...I guess it wouldn't be..."

"Let's get started, then."

Magolor curled himself up a little, giving the blue knight a timid nod.

Meta Knight began a lengthy explanation about how to focus, detailing things and analogies that Magolor didn't really understand well. This, in addition to being bogged by the heat, made it difficult for him to pay much attention. There was something said about controlling the pulse, and making it like a pool of water. Water sounded really good right then.

"I'm thirsty." Magolor said, more so thinking aloud.

"No," Meta Knight chided. "I said you're supposed think of it like a pool of water. Imagine that stillness and tranquility. Untouched by any flow or drops."

"That just makes me even more thirsty." He stated with a vapid stare towards the ceiling, thinking of sipping cool, clear water out of a pool.

Meta Knight exasperatedly pressed a hand over the angular gap in his mask.

"Well," he started again, removing his hand after a moment. "Perhaps the water example isn't optimal for you. Let's try something else. You need to be capable of honing yourself regardless of the environment you're in. What's something you're good at paying attention to? What do you like?"

"Um..." Magolor blinked those vermillion eyes, pulling out of his daydream to think of an answer. "...Oh, those challenge stages I've been making—I really like building and fixing things. I wish I could be working on the new stages. I'm really excited about those."

Meta Knight briefly looked the wizard over, specifically the golden gear and cog motifs on this clothes, presently sullied by sand and sweat.

"Do you like gears?"

"Gears?" Magolor looked at Meta Knight in tired thought. Then, suddenly, his red eyes brightened, widened, and his body straightened up, hands tossed in the air, recharged with enthusiasm. "Gears are amazing! They're so simple, yet so efficient! They can do so much just through being round and turning! There's all sorts of machines and devices that would never work without them, and so many different kinds! You can change the length and number of the cogs, you can make the gears wide or thin, you can make them huge or small, you can—"

"That's enough," Meta Knight interrupted. "We're going to try a different approach with this. Imagine this pulse is a gear."

The masked knight took notice that he had Magolor's full, absolute attention. The baking air and sand and moisture-sucking dryness didn't seem to be bothering him so much anymore. Removing his hands from his dark cape, he started making a spinning motion with them, chasing each other.

"Right now, that gear is rotating too much. You need to make it stop. Close your eyes, and focus on making that gear function properly."

The glow of Magolor's tinted eyes dimmed as they closed, his form hovering still in place. The thought of the giant wooden gear that almost crushed him came to his mind, but he was seeing it differently now. It wasn't made up of synthetic lumber, it wasn't swirled with artificial wood-grain, and it was no longer in the challenge stage. It was a magical thing, illuminated brightly against a field of darkness, shifting with blue energy, beating as the pulse was.

"Stop." Magolor whispered behind his scarf, speaking to the gear he was seeing in his head, feeling in his heart.

But like a stubborn child, the gear did not stop. It didn't want to listen to its host, didn't want to do what it was told, being the untamed and feral power that it was. Even this invented, imagined form of it defied, as the magical gear suddenly rushed at Magolor, much like the wooden gear had. And much like it had been before, Magolor was caught off guard, but unlike it in that he was feeling as though he were sucked out of reality and pulled into this vision, placed right in the path of this angry device.

Magolor dove out of the way, rolling like a ball across solid blackness. The gear screeched to a halt, skidding energy with its cogs, pivoting into a sharp turn. It resumed barreling at him, rolling heavily against the ground, thundering blue mist.

Meanwhile, Meta Knight was watching the little alien very carefully. He had figured that the main concern would be whether or not Magolor was going to end up falling asleep in his efforts to focus, and thus needing a wake-up slap upside the head. However, his hidden eyes showed slight concern in watching the subtle changes of Magolor's expression. There was a little fearful furrow over his closed eyes, a faint twitching that tapped his detached hands, he seemed dreaming, but certainly not asleep.

"Magolor," Meta Knight hissed quietly, not wanting to break the wizard's concentration, but still wanting to be heard. "Remember, it's your power. Don't fear it. Take control of it."

The words were heard. Magolor turned to face the gear as it rushed at him, and he knew Meta Knight was right. This was his power, and if he didn't get control over it, then it would be the one to control him. He'd be no better than he was with the Master Crown, and that was a mistake he never wanted to repeat again.

"Stop!" He shouted with determination in this vision, which again came out as a mere whisper in reality.

The gear again refused to heed his command, and continued its pursuit, intending to run him through under its whirling cogs. But this time, Magolor did not get out of the way, instead glaring with authority, holding his hands up and out in front of himself. The gear slammed into those gloved palms, pushing Magolor back against the darkness. The little wizard strained under the force, halting the progress of this large, glowing gear, quivering, but being just as stubborn as it in refusing to yield.

The two of them continued to push against each other, like territorial bulls with their horns locked, waiting for the other to falter, pressing for an advantage. Then, the gear's energy extended, reaching like electric fingers, surrounding and clawing at its opponent. Magolor cringed, bracing himself, but to his surprise, this was no attack. The energy was filling him, surging within and out, a rush and flow of power, waving his cape and the points of his hood around like in a fierce wind. The abrupt shock of this was enough for the gear to get a slight opening, pushing Magolor further back while he struggled with the sensation.

It wasn't too unlike what he'd felt when he had first put the Master Crown on. It was a gratifying feeling, ascending from being a weak little thing into an embodiment of sheer power, the thought of being able to do anything he wanted forcing itself into his brain. The thoughts were terrible, foreign, and yet came as naturally as though they were his own, like some struggling monster trying to devour his mind from the inside out.

I have the power to do anything I want! I don't have do what Meta Knight says! I don't need to apologize to Kirby! I can go back to Another Dimension, and make those Doomers suffer for what they've done to me! Power is the only thing that matters! I need more! I must have more!

"STOP!" Magolor boomed with resonance, at himself and at the gear. He thrust his hands upward, snapping the gear backwards from the force of his determination. It rolled, perplexed, confused, like something wounded that had never been wounded before. Magolor didn't stop there, flying himself at the gear, gripping it while it still spun harmlessly, dizzily, forcing it still.

"I'm not going to be that way anymore!" He hollered at the device as it shimmered and spat blue sparks. "I'm going to do what Meta Knight says, because he wants to HELP me! I'm going to apologize to Kirby, because he SAVED MY LIFE! I'm NOT going to go after those Doomers, because I'd be no better than them if I did! Power is NOT the only thing that matters! I don't NEED more than what I have! I'M the one in control! I'LL decide what I do!"

That said, the gear suddenly stopped sparking. It stopped shimmering, it stopped glowing, even the rage seemed to leave it. It became quiet, as gentle as a gear turning the ticking hands of a clock.

With a relieved heave, Magolor opened his eyes back up to reality. He looked up slightly, seeing Meta Knight standing like a dark statue, looking down at him. The masked knight said nothing, but gave the little alien an approving nod. Magolor looked back down at his hands. The violet aura had ceased. The colors of the world were back to normal.

"I think I got it." He said, smiling with his yellow eyes at the knight, just before flopping over face-first on the rocky cave floor. He was out like a light.

"Well. I suppose that's enough for today, then." Meta knight said.

The blue knight freed his arms from his thick cape, picking up the exhausted little alien in his arms. Not two seconds after he did this, a light cut into the cave, expanding into a star-shaped vertical pool.

"No matter where he goes, you're always watching him, aren't you?" Meta Knight asked the portal, before walking into it as he carried Magolor like a large baby.

Now inside the glazed, powder blue cockpit of the Lor Starcutter, Meta Knight made his way through some automatic doors and hallways to the private quarters, dropping Magolor off on his bed once he got there.

"I'll come back tomorrow, and we can work on your abilities next." He told the sleeping wizard, fully aware he probably couldn't hear him.

Meta Knight left the Lor Starcutter, and Magolor slept for the rest of the day. The Lor Starcutter rested in its sand dune, content and untouched by the desert dust, soaking in the light of the setting sun, and the twinkle of the stars above that followed.