We Must Be Strong (and we must be brave)

by KaffeeKup

How far will you go for the person you love?Hurtling towards Prime's ship in a rickety broken craft and relying on improvisation with the barest hint of success? - Adora will do whatever it takes to save Catra from Prime - at any cost. Or: An alternate Save The Cat where Catradora quite literally flies off the rails and nothing'll ever stay the same.

11. VII

"Remember when we used to hide under the blankets while the other cadets were asleep and have our own sleepover with stolen ration bars and we'd talk about-"

"I know, I miss those times""I do too,it's not the same anymore. We're all older now and I doubt the two of us could fit in those singles now…but still, there is a part of me that desperately wants to do it again"

"To be back in those times where the only worry was getting a hot shower in the morning and the color of the ration bars for the day. Simpler and easy times rather…well this"

"I miss you Catra""I miss you too, Adora"

---

Getting stabbed is hard to describe to those fortunate enough to have not experienced it.

It's like watching a Horde Tank get penetrated by a magical energy beam that penetrates the tough armor plating and shoots straight out of the side, taking mechanical blood like crew members and needed machinery and dumping them outside carelessly.

At first, the area around it goes cold and numb, all Adora feels is the entirety of the dagger , its smooth edges painted with her insides, its texture and temperature.

With realization and nerve's kicking into gear, only then does the screaming start, an endless queue of screaming obscenities with gripped white knuckles and every muscle tightening with unmanageable tenseness.

Adora has been stabbed before, Shadow Weaver, the Horde, the Crimson Waste's and every conflict then for the next four years (and counting) to name a few..

Still she screams, practically crying with her head thrown back while the maniacal laughter of Prime booms in her ears.

But Adora does recover, she's not coughing up blood, her limbs are still movable and she's not losing energy.

So it's a non fatal stab wound, it's manageable. And it's painful. Adora can work with it.

Part of Force Captain conditioning is working with it ,dumping depression and guilt and loneliness and burning them into useful tools that fire up the body and supercharge production of strength building adrenaline and pain killing endorphins.

It's rage, absolute fucking rage that has her grinding her own teeth down and sparking every last drop of ardenline and pain numbing hormone, cancelling the bloody nerves around the impact area and transferring energy to get back up. Ignore the pain and the desperation, forget about She-Ra and the weight of world and just fucking do it.

If Prime has to die a second time, so be it. She must have missed something anyway.

Hissing through her teeth as the blade grinds against her insides, Adora twists in place and

the Prime Clone clearly aint the same as the others when Adora locks gazes with him at a slightly more even eye level, he's a slightly different looking Clone than the regular with brighter eyes and face with expression plus the new grown mustache and third eye, clearly he needs to be put down twice.

She'll have to leave the dagger in so Prime cant use it, and so her insides - stay inside.

Whatever words she spits out is more grunt and grease than an actual attempt at communication, maybe she's too far gone for this or her emotional communication has finally broken down after years of being locked away.

She wipes the sweat off her brow with bloody hands, cracks her knuckles and lets fury take its course to fuel her veins with its red energy.

"-"

Prime blinks three times, one for each disgusting little eye and he's so full of self assurance and victory that his first death meant little when he does begin to speak in that haughty and monarchical tone to make her feel small as a insect would in the presence of a mighty animal.

"Cleary Force Captain I-"

It has the opposite effect, lending energy and pissing her off.

Adora throws a punch with the stagger more in tune with inebriation than martial arms training and it goes right at Prime's face and snaps his jaw upwards to make him shut the fuck up. He staggers when Adora follows up with a backhand that smacks his cheek to the side and forces Prime back.

Partially to make him shut the fuck up and partially to give herself breathing room.

Panting and groaning as the exertion and pressure on the dagger embedded in her gut brings up a sharp stab of pain, Adora nonetheless swipes her staff off the floor and staggers back to Prime with red stripes lining her body and sweat from overworking herself to the brink four times in the space of a day..

She has to focus.

But it hurts so much. Every little movement, even a twist or a limb sends a spike of uncomfortable pain and she has to ignore it, she has to take the chip off the Prime clone and she cannot fail. Disregard the headache and the blood in her mouth and the aching bones that scream for just five more minutes.

Adora has a mission, an objective to complete.

Etheria and its people are depending on her to deliver just like they did with the hundreds of times that She-Ra succeded, if she fails then they'lll get hurt or die or chipped by that sick fuck of a man thousands of years old and he'll keep going until he harms everyone Adora swore to protect as part as her rite as She-Ra - Princess of Power.

Adora doesn't get to relax or to sit down. Her responsibilities and her mantle come first and she made that choice with Shadow Weaver, Angella and the destruction of her sword at the Crystal Castle combined with rejection of Light Hope's philosophy and refusing to side with Prime despite the promises of everything she ever wanted.

She is going to save Etheria, no matter what it takes and whatever the burden of cost will be, she'll wear it.

The weight of the world sits squarely and solely on her shoulders and it's heavier than a single stab wound will ever be.

Adora has to fix it.

There is no other option.

---

ChapterVII:

"We Must Be Strong And We Must Be Brave"

The Emperor of the universe has died and come back to life.

The clock is ticking and time is not on her side.

Adora can't give up,she's too close.

She will - kill him.

You have to do this Adora.

You're the only one left.

There's one last chance left Adora, it's ten minutes to midnight.

It must be done.

---

There is no emergency red backlighting to counter the sheer white of the Temple ships hanger, everything is painted in various shades of white from half constructed battleships suspended like pinatas on the hanger ceiling to thousands of inactive drones all sporting the same bland and perfectly duplicated in Prime's nature.

The Crimson Waste, a mostly lifeless desert where for eight hours a day the sheer natural brightness of the sun would force all living creatures to hang their heads low and squint otherwise they'd be blinded, was a more varied landscape than this. Where reflections of artificial white would bounce on the color white and would then beam pure white directly into the user's eye's if they're not careful.

Adora however, does not have time for this.

Adora immediately goes on the offensive, she's battering away Prime's claw-like hands and repeatedly slamming him in the gut and joints with deft twists and turns with her staff, using both ends and their advantages to its best effects.

Prime is faster and seemingly more capable, he won't be knocking Adora flat with one hit but he has received some kind of upgrade with this new body. Whatever it is - it's a new model if its weird third eye and abilities are anything to go by. Even if the movements are jittery and unnatural in the same way that wearing the wrong shoe size makes it difficult to walk.

Thank fuck Adora has a staff.

Desperation of a promise made and to be kept fuels her with energy.

A heart beating with fury keeps her topped up with adrenaline as she blocks another fist to the face and whacks Prime in the side of the head for good measure.

And the weight of the world, those counting on Adora to succeed partially nullifies the pain of having a dagger lodged in her side and poking at her gut.

And that leftover pain simply keeps her going.

The march of an army reverberts off the walls and floors, even though the doors are blocked or closed the sheer sound is enough to be as audible as a beating hammer and only intensify the clear fast moving sand shift of an hourglass running out.

She staggers back from a fist slamming into her shoulder and ducks to avoid a haymaker aimed at her head - but the thought of Prime coming to Etheria and converting everyone to mindless slaves is more powerful right now than massive bruises.

If Adora does speak, it's a half deprecative monologue to herself and venting frustrations at Prime.

"Go fuck yourself! I won't let you hurt them!"

Adora grunts through a closed jaw and a pained hiss at a naked sore shoulder that'll cramp later.

Time is running out, Prime cannot be allowed to escape.

Panting through masses of exerted energy - shifting from left to right to juggle the pain, Adora makes a bet.

One, two, three. Adora puts all weight on her right leg, leans backwards and pretends to have fucked up.

Prime see's a feinted weakness and exposes himself. He laughs - or snarls.

Adora doesn't understand the language.

Both fists come flying without pause, one for the stomach and one for the face. Two massive body shots that'll pop organs and crush bones.

Adora rolls with the punches, judging her support to be enough she falls back on the knee and spins with practiced dexterity to avoid the gut punch and the face punch, offering no resistance and allowing it to flow over her like water over a rock - the impact hurts but it creates an opening.

And momentum.

Being spun round does however have its benefits.

Adora swings round with the staff pointed in one direction all the way to Prime's exposed and vulnerable side and stabs him with the pointed tip.

Prime howls in agony.

Adora then turns the staff upwards and uses the opportunity to swing it all the way upwards to Prime's chin and discombobulate - snapping the Emperor's head to create disorientation and follows up with a sweeping kick to the back of the knee and the Emperor topples over.

And she stabs him in the fucking throat, again.

The Emperor is dead.

Again.

Adora waits, one,two, three,four.

Nothing, just blood and a gurgling sound followed by the eyes darkening and then the light flicking away.

Adora breathes a sigh of relief, relaxes and sags - wipes her forehead clean of the sweat and kicks Prime's corpse in the throat to make sure.

And that's when a pair of pounding boots that support the mass of a body two hundred plus kilograms and more thunder across the floor with the weight and sound of a fucking train and Adora is simply too stunned to react in time - she can accept Prime having a back up but this?Prime; with a third and a fourth eye lifts Adora up by the scruff with one straining arm and snaps the staff in half with the other.

In desperation Adora flails out to try and wiggle free but Prime simply kicks Adora with the power of a sport player's punt and she's flying across the hanger and ends up in an agonizing heap on the floor.

Prime isn't dead.

He's come back for round three.

And he's fucking estatic about it.

"Come now Adora, did you forget?" A hand half the size of a face and attached to an arm longer than a staff opens at the palm.

He smirks, the two small eyes flickering open and closed with disturbing artificiality.

"Prime know's all child - Prime sees all"

Adora is down to her bloody fists, and everything hurts.

She has to pick herself up, she has to do this.

She has to fix this. No matter the cost to herself and whether or not she'll survive.

---

It's fucking agony.

The kind of body twisting ,rib bruising, spine hurting and flashes at visions edge agony. The stuff that would make any ordinary person give up the fight and let the torture take over and scream. To simply remain on the floor and wave the white flag, admit defeat and never get up.

Adora is and has never been, just an ordinary person. She's the product of Force Captain conditioning and puts the welfare and condition of others over herself, not to mention she can just ignore such…inconveniences for now.

Adora has more pressing concerns than external damage to herself. The bad knee that pops when she flexes it can wait - and so too can the exhaustion of desperate muscle screaming for a second to catch oxygen.

It's her fucking lungs. An intolerable and cramped series of grating noises whenever she opens her mouth come out rather than unmoistened dehydrated speech or practiced respiration of conditioning.

It's not regular breathing, it's a bark of a dry cough mixed with wet sand from the lung and speckles of red blood coating both skin and floor, every harsh forced exhale blurs Adora's vision with alternations of white and black at the edges - and that awful ringing sound that pings from ear to ear refuses to diminish.

And Adora hasn't even picked herself off the floor yet, she's still lying in a heap of hurt.

Adora needs to think, rack her brains and come up with a solution ; a plan right now.

She pushes her memory back to Catra and every Clone encountered in the past three months , whatever size or shape they all had one thing in common that never failed to materialize - they could all be possessed by Prime. Their eyes would brighten and the voices would change, but that also meant that like with Catra, the connection could be severed if the chip at the back of the neck was ripped off and usually resulted in the Clone either dying or becoming paraylzed.

So all Adora has to do is get close enough, rip the chip out with her bare hands and somehow survive the trip there, her body fucking aches and that stab wound with the weapon still inside is inflamed with pain bought by the kick and the harsh landing.

And Prime has changed too.

In comparison this Prime is all elegance and deadly, it's movements are fluid and responsive and nothing like the heavy bone breaking strikes of the first or the growth spurt of the second.

The previous Clone was a juvenile.

This is an adult.

---

It's hand to hand. With no weapon to use, the playing field has shifted dramatically in Prime's favor.

Unsecured and raggedy blonde hair versus a shaven marable scalp.

A loose and flexible form facing off against tall and tight.

Two feet bouncing on their balls against a stiff mountain of a biological creature.

Adora dusting off her boxing skills, Prime sticking to an unknown playbook.

Adora throws the first punch - shifting to her good leg and sneaking a hit under Prime's defenses and hitting where she hopes is the liver for an incapacitating hit, all she gets is a grunt and manages to dive away from the retaliatory strike thanks to her being as flexible as possible.

Prime is barely winded though, and Adora is near panting from previous exertion of hours spent like this.

Still, a first blow.

If that even matters at this point. The chip is the area to aim for and with the weight class being so distortedly obliged toward Prime, with just her bare fists and body at hand Adora has little that can actually immobilize or significantly hurt the Emperor.

Adora cannot give up ground or retreat for another day either, Prime's minions are close and they barrel through sealed blast doors and are getting closer every moment, there is no time to slowly chip away at Prime's defenses and a form a coherent strategy and even if there was time - Adora is slowing down through a combination of sustained words and internal damage from the knees to the lungs and she has to thump her fist into the knife created wound at her stomach to keep the adrenaline flowing from sheer self inflicted pain alone that creates both energy and…a scream each and every time.

And Prime is fucking goading her. His voice is clear and fresh.

"Come now Adora, is this truly the best you can offer? A mere boxer's effort?"

Compared to Adora's vocally dry and rough own.

"Shut the fuck up"

Heavy disorientating body blows via shoulder rushes.

"Can you truly not do better? I was under the impression that Hordak at least trained his Force Captains, no?"

Legs sweeping into the back of knees that are well timed and devastatingly effective.

"I must say, I am disappointed."

Jabs, uppercuts and gut punches laden with increasing speed and frustration, if this was any other enemy they'd be dead or crippled from the hits Adora is landing but Prime just refuses to acknowledge it.

Even when Adora crosses her arms and traps Prime's own punch between and follows into a counterjab that breaks Prime's fucking nose.

With no reaction.

What is he made of?

Adora manages to pull back, takes a breather with hands on knees and considers her options.

Prime's unyielding stoicness and sheer physical resilience coupled with his piercing vocal taunts only further escalate the transformation of Adora's attacks from calm and calculated in metholdy to increasingly desperate in their violence and brutality, each one shortly predated by a dry sandpaper cough or a barely restrained bark of audible despondency from fighting a living wall with just a single weakness at its back.

A vulnerable area - but without a manufactured weapon - Adora with all her tired martial prowess cannot reach. And despite her frantic tries, from bone breaking assaults that herald body slams and great punches that increase in their aggression every time Adora slams her wounds with a coiled fist and pained grunts to spike needed adrenaline it's-

-it's not enough.

She's running out of time.

Adora is going to lose

It's with an increasingly frustrating level of self resentment that continues to burrow its way into Adora's rapidly spirally and unraveling hold on herself that she not only gets cold feet-

-she's cold everywhere

Why didn't she figure out the chip first?

Why couldn't she have killed Prime at the gel chamber?

Why didn't she interrogate the Clo-Wrong Hordak for everything he knew? Correct application of stun batons would have revealed at least one of Prime's weaknesses, there has to be one right?

And then Prime attacks, an overwhelming assault of a conditioned body that forces Adora to block or dodge every and all blows aimed at her.

And even when she's perfect.

When bracing her forearms to stop a haymaker that rattles the bones from the fingertips down, when she grabs one of Prime's legs after a missed kick and uses that to throw the Emperor on the floor.

When Adora uses her boxing skills to evade,deflect and fight back. It's basically fighting a wall. And it's as evidently clear as the dagger stuck in her gut that makes moving painful and uncomfortable.

That with all the dogged determination in the world and the willpower to see it through.

With just her physical body to rely on, Adora cannot fight Prime.

The dodging and the panting, the pain of hitting solid flesh and resulting in nothing, the feeling of watching energy reserves dwindle and grazes turn into wounds - Adora needs a plan.

Or a weapon.

Something sharp and that can be wielded a single hand, something that will break through and pierce the chip like with Catra's.

Adora racks her brain as she fights a desperate defense in depth, using the space in the hanger between her and Prime to maintain a distance she wouldn't get grappabled in or narrowly avoiding by rolling (despite the stabbing pain in her gut) or deflecting.

The stun batons are over there, too far away and she'd have to run and expose herself.

Or.

A knife is right here.

A sharp weapon able to pierce and tear (and do what her fists cannot) is embedded in her insides, it'll do the job and while it'd put her in the danger zone with no reach or flexibility - the suggestion of possible safety is long since dead so she might as well go for it.

Pulling it out and using it is the only option, it'd increase Adora's chances of success and succeeding in the mission as surely as it would open up a stab wound and cause a slow but sure loss of blood and her eventual demise. She's burning up energy already via simple expenditure of keeping herself warm, fighting Prime and exerting through countless multitude of wounds which means that in conclusion ; eventually Adora will fall from sheer exhaustion.

A demise is fine, as long as she wins.

Because truthfully;

Adora isn't afraid of death.

She's terrified of failing.

Without question, Adora wraps her fingers on the hilt of the dagger embedded in her gut from the back and doesn't even attempt to mask the shrill scream from her lips as the fucking thing moves and twists.

So she pulls.

Despite the agazoning agitation of her penetrated insides being juggled around by sharp objects, Adora keeps at it - drawing the rest of the hilt out and cringing at the speckles (and then small lines) of her blood on the floor as she continues to backpedal away from Prime.

A scream becomes a pained series of grunts. Black spots form at the edges of her vision and then tears flow freely from the ducts, jaw snapping shut and free hand clenching into a tight fist when the first edges of the dagger break free of her skin.

More blood.

The rest comes out soon after, Adora's hearing goes numb for a second and Prime is advancing with haste. She shakily staggers from side to side with full body shivers and moans in freezing pain from the cold both wrenched from the inside and oppressive environment from outside.

But she has a knife now.

And she's bleeding.

Whatever sand remained in the hourglass has disappeared by more than half - by giving herself a weapon.

Adora is that hourglass now.

By choice.

She'd do anything to win.

---

My Name Is Adora And I'm So Cold.

It's not with a quick stab bourne of fleetfoot and dashing moves that signifies Adora's new attack against the Emperor of the known galaxy with a unknown but rapidly decreasing time to go before reinforcements arrive or her own death from a….variety of factors occurs.

Rather than a Force Captain's overwhelming assault with martial timing, or a hybrid mix of Rebellion training and Catra's teachings of boxing and quick movements. It's more barbaric with brutal hacks punctuated by coughs and a stomach lurching every time.

Adora staggers to the side - a stumble all the way from left to right , panting with red cheeks as her forehead goes white, one hand gripping a dagger formerly painted with her own insides and the other clutching her stomach, the organ with a hole in one side and barely kept together skin in the other.

The last Eternian with her ragged clothes, half naked tanktop and open sores attempts to shank Horde Prime with the grace of a back alley street robber than someone who'd spent twenty two years preparing and fighting multiple wars.

But still, Adora keeps going. Even as she slows down and struggles to sidestep blows and kicks, her dagger slices through bare flesh while the tortuous thumping headache and flashing white burns brighter in her retina than Prime's stark flashing clothing.

A stab into a wrist there when Prime over extends and Adora narrowly avoids a headbutt, instead forcing herself to stay in the danger zone of being in hugging distance of someone twice her body mass.

She says nothing - just a audible pained grunt or a pant every time because it's too much energy, while Prime's words or screams or taunts and shouts are just white noise as she manages to break past every few attempts and each time Adora's dagger sings true and she causes another vein to open ; or a finger sliced to uselessness.

A minute or two later, Adora is just hanging in there by a thread and it's when she sink's her dagger in between outstretched ribs, coupled with a kidney shot and signature kneecapping that Adora finally does get to the chip at the back of Prime's neck - and in just the nick of time before the Emperor can recover - Adora jams the dagger right in and twists at the biomechanical implant and watches with a mixture of satisfaction and disgust as the fluids contained within pop and then leak out in all directions as Prime screams, his spine spasms and he dies yet another death.

Probably from the slow and agonizing torture of paralyzation.

Adora doesn't drop to her knees this time to gather her strength, nor does she revel in her victory by dropping her weapon.

She sort of just stands there, swaying in an invisible breeze from side to side, unfurling and furling her fingers with hasty breaths and pained squints from looking down with a thumping headache to watch as more of her lifeforce drops out of numerous wounds.

She cant think to stop, her brain keeps going in its hypervigilance - Adora barely remembers to lick her dry lips as she watches every corner, hears the sound of the approaching army and the decreasing hissing of Prime's neck chip. Did she kill him? Is he dead? Adora hopes and wants it.

Soon enough, a conclusion forms.

A figure drops out of a ship three times the size of Mara's tethered to the roof of the hanger, it's large and Clone like.

And it speaks.

Adora doesnt let her heart sink, neither does she blindly charge forward again or come up with a new strategy because she's exhausted everything already..

She could laugh hysterically in bewilderment, she could scream in rage, she might shiver in panic and shout at herself for being stupid - but Adora's too fucking tired for any of that. Exhaustion both physical and emotion have taken their toll and it's abundantly clear in how Adora moves and thinks.

She's tired, she's shuffling towards her target that she's killed three times, she's shivering from the cold and doesn't really know what else to do. Does she have to decapitate him now? How many Clone's does Prime have? Is this the last one?

The figure rises to its full height and towers even from the distance, tentacles of biomechanical dissipate from its body and drop to the floor in masses of heaps. The shadow of the ship conceals its true features until it steps out of the darkness and into the light.

It's fully grown beard and four eye's lock on at the same time that all too familiar smirk appears with that booming voice made for parades and grand speeches.

This time before it speaks, Prime runs his shiny new claws through his face, sighing and moaning as if he's greeting an old friend - he doesn't stop there either as the Emperor cracks his neck and shrugs his shoulders as though dying three times over was merely an amusing inconvenience to burn time.

It's a complete carbon copy of Prime from sixteen hours and, just a few minutes ago. A flawless body with nary a hint of scratch of damage, it's like Adora never killed it three times in both adult and adolescent.

"I must thank you Adora, that was a …insightful experience, however Prime has grown bored of this charade. Prime has a busy schedule and this enlightening situation must come to an end"

No.

Just fucking stay dead would you?

"Prime is eternal Adora, he cannot be slain by your mere mortal means. He outlasts and he-"

"Shut the fuck up"

Adora tiredly and dryly interrupts with a cough.

And moves to kill Prime, again.

---

(Coronation - Jose Pavli)

Adora shambles rather than runs, idly flipping the dagger in her hand back to front instead of priming it to be ready, her movements are small to keep in mind that she needs to conserve energy rather than expend it all and hope to gain it back like before.

"Come on Adora, just a bit. Just a little bit, just some more. Come on come on come one" Adora mutters quietly to herself, clutching her dagger arm and shuffles forwards to within super close range of Prime, if she had a staff or even a baton it'd be so much easier but they're gone now.

Adora blinks painfully, breathes in and out with a dry throat that's starting to cry out for water.

"One more time, just one more. The head the head, go for the head"

It's obvious, Prime's different and the mastermind so she'll have to decapitate him or something before the signal gets out, it'll be fine, she can do it just like she did the previous three times, Prime can't stand up to her martial skills even if she's bleeding on the floor and staggering around and in a increasingly painful throbbing situation.

Is Prime gesturing to her to come hither? It's on his lips and his hand movement and body language, is the man that obsessed with some kind of experience that he'd willingly invite being killed? Whatever. Adora is nearly there, just a few more steps and she can end this and Glimmer and Bow and everyone on Etheria will be safe, just a few more-

Prime strides forwards, makes to punch Adora's head off, she dodges and fients with her dagger, following up by quickly swapping it to the other hand as she quickly shuffles between Prime's arms and raises her arm to stab him in the-

How did Prime move that quick? His claws are crushing her shoulder, upper and lower arm all at once and she needs to-

Grit her teeth and get it done.

Something cracks and snaps, or a rather a multitude of that happens at once from the right as Adora stabs Prime in the gut with her left, making him howl and yet he still has that annoying satisfied because-

It takes a hot second for the body to send signals to the brain and for the brain to process such signals into information.

Her right arm doesn't function or move when she tells it to, fine so she stares at it and wills it to move but there's ugly claw like marks and five of them staining the skin and it isn't responding at all but the fingers are and-

The pain begins, searing from wrist to shoulder from the skin right down to the nerves, traveling up and down and bouncing repeatedly until it becomes a horrifying single mass of hurt.

It still takes another second to register.

Prime broke her arm.

All the way from the wrist to the shoulder. When she dares to glance at it to assess damage, it's simply floppy bones with no resistance when she flexes it and ugly traumatic purple discolored all over bare skin.

And gods, it fucking hurts.

"FUCK, FUCK, FUCK. FUCCCCCCCK"

Adora howls, nursing her broken arm and wincing with tears already forming, she hobbles on both legs and hisses at the slightest interruption to the broken nerves in her lower and upper right arm.

"FUCKING SHIT, FUCK, FUCKING SHIT, SHIT FUCK, I-"

This is worse than being electrocuted by Shadow Weaver.

No amount of emotional pain suppressing conditioning can even begin to block the all encompassing shearing pain of broken bones from the tendon to the nerves, it's like being set on fire and being numb at the same time - in short, it's fucking agazoning.

"Holy shit, fucking holy shit, fuck shit fuck. Go away, no fuck No no no no no" She needs to stop hyperventilating and calm the fuck down because Prime is still there but her body and mind refuses to listen with the pain and thoughts and bad and it's fucking terrifying because she cant stop. She cant stop her stomach from flipping, or her heart rate that's pounding fucking faster than her spiralling headache.

And Prime is still there, watching with and admiring his handiwork, even mockingly inspecting a pair of sleeping drones as if to gesture his divine right over the shambling figure of a proud bird with a broken wing.

She's in range, energy dimming like a dying lightbulb but all she needs is a few good hits. To disarm via weakspots, immobilize the joints and then go for the killing blow.

Tired. Emotionally too.

Sapping. Joints feeling loose and weak.

Panting. Sandpaper lungs and dried vocals.

Stumbling. Popping knees and blurring vision that clashes with the overpowering lens flare of sheer white.

"Plan plan go for the wrists an- use the a-arm - need to go for the h-head first and then the chip"

Limbs are stiff and it's like trying to move rusted metal but it doesnt matter, Adora know's that she can do it she just needs to do it right, have a plan and follow it through - and dont fuck it up.

God she wishes Catra was here. What would she look like without the cult outfit while in a better place? Could Catra have found peace?

God Prime is so tall that he creates a shadow.

"You can do it, just one more"

It's more of a wheeze now.

"Finish line - right there - comeon comeoncomeon"

Adora timely dodges the first fist aimed at knocking her over at the shoulder by side stepping, then ducking under a haymaker designed to crush her skull, she weaves through Prime attempting to clap her body with his arms by using her broken floppy one as a physical and excruciating distraction.

With desperation aiding what little speed she has left, Adora manages to keep one of Prime's arms down by stabbing it in the elbow.

With tired muscles straining in oxygen depleted pain bordering on starvation , Adora still manages to force Prime , more than two heads taller to buckle enough at the knees for his head to be in range, the two lock eyes briefly with Adora's determined and bloodshot blue versus Prime's bright and disturbingly neutral green that betrays nothing on a body that's been stabbed all over and is casually bleeding all over the floor and mixing with Adora's precious red.

The dagger is raised as high as possible on a arm that's screaming for a break, Adora puts all of her weight and strength into that last push that'll go straight into Prime's eye and give her the time needed to cut the head of the snake off for the good and prove that everything she's done will have been worth it, the deaths, the sacrifices and the promises made will justify getting rid of this crazy space menace.

Gritted teeth, blurred vision and with a pained whimper from sheer long term strain - Adora makes her final lunge to end the threat of Horde Prime forever. The dagger shoots up past Prime's breastbone and in just a second it'll be-

No ,no no no no.

The arm is stopped by a single clawed white hand, fingers as long as knives twisting at the wrist and despite all of Adora's struggle and strength she's forced downwards as Prime's incredible muscle mass makes disarming her a easy for him, he squeezes at the base of Adora's hand -forcing her to scream at her bones being crushed and the dagger is dropped and falls away into clutter.

Adora desperately tries to wiggle out of Prime's lock on her wrist but to no avail, it's like getting clamped by a production line as Prime picks her up by the forearm and up to his level, Adora's feet dangle and she cries out and kicks out in an attempt to get free but despite all of the wounds she inflicted and her attempts to lash out at the Emperors vulnerable points, he simply shrugs them off like a creature from the Whispering Woods would ignore an explosive arrow.

Prime simply stares at Adora's struggle to break free of his grasp.

She's screaming inside, desperate to find some way to dull the pain and get free but those four eyes locking on are completely dead inside even with the brightness, it's like looking into a dark tunnel with a brief light at the end - terrifying and foreboding.

"I did say Adora, Prime is eternal"

And with that and a grunt, Prime's other damaged arm comes around and he casually punches Adora so hard in the chest that several ribs crack, pain flares and Adora cries out and then coughs up blood.

The nerve ending pain however this time does not supercharge Adora's efforts and neither does it aid her with much needed concentration. Its incapacitating agony rather than useful energizer - and it puts an end to Adora's final , desperate efforts, quickly even as she attempts to get up.

"Ah I see that Eternian physical resilience once again, Prime is most pleased to acknowledge this and thanks you for your contribution to field testing Prime's cloning apparatus, he thanks you for this."

With a shrug, Prime drops Adora to the floor in a clatter that barely has her recovering in time while wheezing blue and coughing and choking red, the Emperor merely smiles.

"However your efforts are commendable effort ultimately futile, Alas Prime does acknowledge with some regret that the talent and prowess will be wasted on the first generation like with before- unreached and untapped potential but with time like his brothers and your future sisters they will be nurtured into a glorious new future under Prime's welcoming light for he is but a simple gardener and you will be the template for a new seedling"

He gestures to someone or something from the side and snaps his fingers with the casualness of ordering food at a restaurant.

"Take her leg, she need not stand in the presence of Prime, kneeling will suffice"

An energy blast similar to Hordak's arm weapon blows out Adora's kneecap and she topples forwards onto her functional left hand and right knee.

---

Is this hopeless?

Physically broken and in the heart of enemy territory with no backup,weapon or plan.

Prime in all of his cold and calculating genius is celebrating his victory.

Adora is nursing her broken shoulder, destroyed leg and cracked ribs.

And she's surrounded on all sides.

Just a minute or two later, the first of many Clones pour in through the doors, marching columns of arm cannon warriors in white and proud chests with identical locksteps in the thousands quickly fill the previously vacant occupant hanger space. At first it's a single fire of identical featureless Clone's but within minutes, it's a terrifying tide of them.

Despite the sudden influx and mass of warm bodies, it's still bone chilling for a shivering and collapsed Adora.

Prime is reveling in his victory, with spread arms and a posture reminiscent of the proud statues in Brightmoon celebrating glorious leaders from the past, Prime gestures his mass of followers from all directions to stand in formations and observe his triumph.

When he speaks, it's with a booming voice that fills the hanger space from middle to all corners, his followers chant and rave with apt attention in an alien language that Adora could never hope to understand.

Not that she'd need to decipher it, with the proud body movements and repeating slogans that travel back and forth between hundreds in an audible wave, it's clear that this is a moment of pure ,satisfied victory for Prime.

Victory over Adora, the celebration of her failure.

From his imaginary pedestal, Prime peers over and then down to Adora with a vicious smile full of green teeth. The closest fifty or so of his Clone's following his gaze to sneer. Seeing so many pairs of identical eyes just staring is as chilling as the freezing temperature, right down to the bone.

"And then we come back to you, Adora. A perfect specimen for later experiments and an example of the emotional Etherians - or is it Eternians? The similarity of the two can be amusingly confusing but then again only one exists in planet form, for now"

Adora fails to reply, instead brooding over her failure to rip off Prime's head, or kill him for good the first time they met or for her to do something right , it's like she's checking off a list of moments she could have done it.

Prime opens his eyes to the full, that fetus like third one snapping open and shut while he waves a hand to the right as if to accentuate his future point.

She couldnt have done it if she didnt fuck up.

Prime somehow senses her internal battle, or maybe he's just that good at guessing people because he's going on yet another speech that's painfully accurate in both its truth and how much every sentence is a dagger colder than the atmosphere sent straight into Adora's increasingly fragile sense of self.

The critical part that never stops , the voice that second guesses every decision and highlights mistakes, the one that screams how Adora should have brought the whole team with her or somehow gotten Catra alive and well and that Adora should have done everything right.

Gloating, Prime brings her out of it - to mock her for mistakes made.

"Oh?. Were you laboring under the false pretenses and the childish belief that Prime could simply be dispatched away because of the connection we share in our necks? A valiant but foolish attempt"

Prime leans in, voice going low with a deep rumble in his throat and a sadistic smile lining his words.

"You should have paid attention - after all the mantra my children share to all is not opinion but rather fact, Prime knows all, Prime see's all and Prime is eternal. Adora"

Satisfied with Adora's horrified expression, born out of both self criticism, agonizing pain and terror at being all alone and unable to do anything about it - Prime continues his monologue, each sentence accompanied by increasingly flashier body language and words that are lapped up by his followers who stay rapt with attention and applaud each spoken speech.

"I must applaud you on your excellent deception, I did truly believe that you wished to join us- your mannerisms and attitude convinced me completely, a job well done but it is a pity that it proved little in the end"

Prime deliberates, thinking and resting his chin on a gloved hand.

"Or maybe?"

He fucking smirks.

"Did you truly wish to join us? Were you almost at the edge and close to embracing Prime when you encountered the glory of the cleansing pool? I must admit I didn't believe you had it in you - well done She-Ra"

Prime snarls, grabbing Adora by the shoulder and forcing her to put pressure onto her knees, the Emperor chuckles darkly - reveling in victory.

"Did you know? The cleansing pool made it..impossible for Prime to join his brothers even if but temporarily, if you hadn't wasted your time uselessly meandering and caught up to Prime - you may have achieved your goals after all - Adora, isn't that just…"

No. no. no.

Adora bites down to stop herself from letting out a scream of-

"frustrating , no?"

His tone turns mocking and leering. Vicious in its portrayal and striking alongside every exposed vein.

"You had She-Ra - you decimated my forces protecting me, and even before that you had the chance to commit your nuclear weapons to every vulnerable part of my station… you had so many chances to bring destruction upon Prime's reign and yet-"

Adora whimpers. If she had the capacity to cry right now she would. She imagines taking Glimmer, Bow and She-Ra on a glorious crusade that would have succeeded if Adora hadn't fucked it up.

"You failed at every turn, Adora"

She screams and struggles but Prime's got her upper body dangling like she's a puppet and he's the master. It's useless, no matter how much she twists to gain leverage or drop her body weight to escape - Prime is simply too strong to overcome like this and everything is starting to hurt again and she's pretty sure that she's losing sight in her left eye because there's a blinding light making her flinch and Prime is showing no reaction.

It hurts - everything hurts.

"Or did you come here to die, Adora? Without She-Ra your chances of victory were practically insignificant and survival even more so, did you really think you could pull it off and dismantle an Empire thousands old?. Whatever your reasons for this are or were, Prime finds them to be most amusing"

Adora wiggles to no avail, muffles down a shriek as her abrupt movement antagonizes her broken shoulder and cracked ribs.

"This is all your fault, you know? Prime stated that Prime is eternal and yet you continue to struggle, where have your actions led you Adora?"

Prime's words are punching daggers right into Adora's soul and forcing her to wince with every one, the sound of his voice? Triumphant, cocky and self assured in his ultimate victory.

"Countless people have been killed ,their cities razed and it all is your fault, Etheria will be set on fire , and it will all be your fault."

No.

"Your friends cannot reach you because you sent them away in disillusionment, again you are the one to blame"

He's lying, he has to be!.

"No one is coming for you, your actions and egocentric decisions have led you down this path and there is no tool to dig yourself out of it."

Adora whimpers, struggles against her bleeding body and restraints, she has to fix this, she can still do it she just needs to-

"Was it worth it in the end? When will you realize that you cannot solve this problem, when you came here I offered you the chance to join Prime and you refused three times. Prime has no need of you any more, would you like to know why?"

Adora would shriek in pain - or disbelief if she had the means to.

"Your DNA has already been uploaded, soon the mantle of Adora the Force Captain will be injected into a new template of Clone and your descendents will lead the army of the faithful across the stars - I did mention that all creatures have a place in the service of Prime and Prime never lies"

"I offered you gracious mercy and you spurned my good graces thrice , this is your well deserved reckoning no?"

Adora manages just two words in a short grunt of defiance amidst the agony.

"Fuck you"

"Is that still denial I see? You may only need to look to witness the fate of those who defy Prime - lifeless planets stripped of use and laid bare are all that remains of those who reject the light of Prime"

No.

A large panel the size of a tank slides open to show a nearby planet being turned into ruin, a series of firestorms begin to form under the trail of Prime's battleships and it's clear that the planet is being marked for complete destruction.

Just like Etheria.

It's fucking horrifying. And chilling.

"Those who defy Prime are destined to not succeed, they will perish into ash or if they are useful will join his light, your friends will become my little sisters and brothers for eternity but you-"

Prime starts crushing Adora's shoulder again and she's biting her tongue to stop herself from yowling.

"Will never see them again - this is the price of your short lived treachery, your pathetic defiance in the face of Prime"

Prime's voice turns darker, his booming voice returning and he growls in twisted pleasure as he forces Adora flat to the floor , his boot stamped between her shoulder blades and he's enjoying this. His victory.

"I am old Adora, I was there for the rise and the fall of your people. Did you seriously believe that you could undo thousands of years in a single stroke? Prime has reigned eternal and has crushed his enemies beneath his gaze until only Prime and his followers of true light remain"

Is she crying? Or is everything hurting so badly that she can no longer tell the difference. Adora's oddly reminded of an insect she saw get crushed under a wheel, it desperately tried to crawl away and it's limbs flailed in every direction to no avail.

"You stupid girl, so full of bravado and courage that you thought, you could simply believe in yourself and everything would work out? - I can guarantee you that it will not. I will erase you from memory, your name will fade from the lips of those who once knew you and the dirty stain of Adora and She-Ra will pass into oblivion as the white cloth of Prime wipes it away from the annals of history"

The boot still presses her into the ground but it's lighter now, Prime is calling out orders and the hum of machinery begins to fill the ambience, hundreds of boots clatter into position and then formations form.

"This has been amusing but I have work to do, four months is no time at all for Prime but it is a small dent in a very busy schedule. Your resistance has been for naught, you are alone and abandoned and all that is left of you and your measly Rebellion will be subjected to a terrible and eternal night forever damned away by Prime's light."

The words that do filter out of her mouth is an unintelligible cold shiver rather than the warmth of coherent speech.

"Lastly I do wonder if I should allow myself to experience your last moments, what are you thinking of? Is it a last minute attempt of the mind to justify what you've done and hope your legacy will live on?"

Adora chokes. So many memories of both good and bad flow through her mind with their number greater than the tears rolling down her cheeks. Catra laughing, Bow reuniting with his dads, Sea Hawk's death and Scorpia laying down her arms, they're all flashbacks that have burned their way into her mind forever and despite the contradiction of so many juxtaposed moments, it's comforting in a way and dulls the pain both emotional and physical by just a comfortable little.

They're all people Adora had a laugh with, cried with, protected and had fond memories of, even if some went bad and others left, it's all something she tried to do good with.

"Whatever fancifull illusion you are deluding yourself into , I can attest it is naught but a lie - nothing more than the decay of the mind to make one final attempt to circumvent its inevitable demise"

Prime may be right, Adora is getting kind of delusional and distracted, her vision blurring from pain and the mass light reflection of the ceiling bulbs, shiny floor and everything else that's just pure white.

Because she's seeing something.

She struggles to make it out, something glowing brighter than the Clones but easier on the eyes, visually it's difficult to make out and it may be just a simple visual hallucination, a trick on the mind like Prime said but a light flickers a Clone shouts something and while the language is impossible to discern, it's a makeshift piece of evidence.

Glimmer and her aunt at Msyactor, the light jokes making harmless fun of Adora being unable to relax - Angella's amusement at Adora saluting her and paying respects, the guards of Brightmoon welcoming a trainer.

-The more Adora gawks at the figure, the more a strange reinforcement of sunken moment and forgotten times emerge from the edges of reality, they're painting colors in a blank white world and despite the cracked ribs, broken bones and the last horrifically depressing twelve hours.

Adora manages a half smile of remembering better times.

That glowing figure is standing in the middle of a company, none of the Clone's pay it attention as it practically slides through.

Prime is speaking again, his voice should be a deafening roar to drown out all others but Adora pays him no attention.

The figure is tall, same height as Prime with gorgeous pants and a spectacular crown, a single flowing ponytail and a graceful figure. When it moves it's with complete precision and silence like it doesn't exist to anyone but Adora and a ringing alarm in her ear from outside.

"I-" Adora makes to say, her voice cracking with just a single letter but she presses on with bloodshot eyes, scraggly hair and tattered clothes.

"I know- know you" The golden figure cocks its head. "I think"

Adora's brain works in two different angles, in it's desperation it scrambles through past conversation on one end while the other brings up nightmares and dreams of the past six months, routing barely remembered images of stressful days and terrified sleep terrors.

And also, Adora. The promises she made, unbowed and unbroken, an emerging emotional fortification against the darkness that lifts the heart with shimmering courage and a slight hope.

I know you have no reason to trust me, Your Majesty. But I've seen for myself the atrocities the Horde has committed against the people of Etheria, and I'm ready to fight to stop them. If you give me the chance, I know I can help the Rebellion turn the tide of the war.

And of course, that same promise but years later.

My name is Adora, I am a Force Captain or well I was. I was a Rebellion Commander and a Princess and now I am not. I made a promise to you years ago that I would never quit, that I would stand by you no matter what and the circumstances would never change-

-I. Glimmer is gone and a new foe is upon us. I am no longer She-Ra but that matters little. I made that promise to all of you and I am not forsaking it, I am renewing it. I will fight and keep going until I die for the peoples I swore to protect, I will never rest and will never stop until Prime and his followers are gone.

I will assume the mantle of general , I will lead and I will plan. I will do this, I will win this war for us or I will die trying.

My name is Adora. (And I wish I had She-Ra with me)

The figure is closer now, the details of it are easier to read, there's individual lines of clothing, markings on its arms and bracers and boots, the sword is different hues of color and it's golden eyes reflect a shade of blue -it's.

It's the same person or entity from the nightmares of sleep's all nighters, it's the figure that haunted Adora's sleepless steps. It was in the Rebellion camp, it was in Mara's ship and it was in the mirror watching during Adora's fictional reality of a victory in the Horde and it broke that reality.

Despite the ease of strain the figure bought, Adora is still wary of it.

"Who are you? Come to gloat?" She asks.

The figure shakes its head, sadly.

"Oh I am Adora, Prime is most victorious in your final moments" Prime interjects but he's not part of the conversation, he's just a background character.

"Why were you following me? You've been everywhere and I still don't know anything about you"

"Adora, look at me. I am the victor, Prime has won and you are talking to him"

The figure takes a step back with crossed arms and it's hair is almost fox like in the way it moves, gods it's so beautiful it practically sparks long forgotten hair envy.

"Then why? Why are you here. There's no else, just me and I'- I'm dying or something"

Adora admits, a tear dropping from her eye as her body slowly begins to refuse to move from tiredness, damage of wear,tear and blunt force injury.

The figure crouches down to Adora's height, it's mouth opens to speak with nothing coming out but despite it, Adora understands all the same and its with a spark of horrifying and hopeful realization of who the figure is that reaches into her core and the piece of the puzzle that's eluded her for so long is finally revealed.

The figure's sorrowful animation matches her own, eyes reflecting a lifetime of hurt and hurting, cheeks puffy with red, arms lined with marks of desperation and self harm.

I'm sorry.

Adora turns her head to the waiting armies and machines to the left and right, hundreds if not thousands in a cold hanger flanked by the freezing temperatures of space.

In front is Prime, the conqueror of galaxies and soon to be Etheria. A man renowned for his impeccable charisma and incredible ego is bellowing at the top of his voice for Adora to listen and obey him - just like the armies of subjects who'll never get to experience anything past the most baseless of emotion.

And besides, Adora has someone standing right by her side. A princess likes being of incredibly warm colors. And truth be told, Adora isn't scared of her anymore.

Adora turns her head, if the being wasn't basically magical then her breath would be on Adora's cheek.

"I know now, and I'm sorry. But I can't do anything right now, I'm trapped here and I sent my friends away, I don't know what to do"

"I, I can't let Prime win, he'll hurt them, all of them and I have to do something about it"

Adora tentatively reaches out in front with her non broken arm and even then it's grinding and sore.

"Can you help me?"

The figure nods, brushing a non physical arm the size of a large branch against Adora's and causing the nerves to warm with a pleasant sensation.

The response, despite a mute one, is evident.

Yes.

All of the times Adora stood up for what she believed in slowly began to circle back. The moments where she took a stand for what was right despite the consequences. The lifetime of attempting to right wrongs and doing her best.

The figure knows, and Adora knows who she is.

With the aid of a fire in her heart and positive thoughts pushing back the dark,Adora manages to speak in full coherent sentences with the removal of a dry throat, she cries, she chokes and she screws up some words but the truth is coming out and Adora made a promise to never run away from the truth.

"I've been in denial of you for so long-that I forgot what I was running from" Only that I've been running.

"-so scared of you, I've been afraid and you've been in my nightmares" I thought you were haunting me, taunting me, hurting me.

"I hurt you and you hurt me, but my-my friends" I'm here and they're over there, in a ship - on Etheria. But they're still close to me.

"-cant let him hurt them and I know I've fucked up" And I've hurt my friends too.

"But I can't do this without you. I can't fix this on my own - I need you" I'm not running anymore.

"-o please,just this once. I need your help to save the people I love" I can't do this alone and I know that now.

"Can we do this?" Together?

One last time?

She-Ra.

"..."

"..."

You can't give up Adora, you've never given up on ANYTHING on your life and never on me, or Bow or Catra "

My friends are on the other side. I am not going anywhere. I'm not leaving anyone behind

I'm ready to fight to stop them. If you give me the chance, I know I can help the Rebellion turn the tide of the war.

"I want that house with you, I want to be rid of the war and I want to never have to command anyone ever again in my life. I wanna sleep in the morning and wake up at ten and laze around for a few hours, I want a ring on my finger and on yours and I never want to see you wear shoes again in your life"

Bow, Glimmer, Mermista, Perfuma and Entrapta, Scorpia and Frosta to name a few, hundreds of guards and soldiers, mothers and children, people Adora and She-Ra met and protected, fought for and spilled their blood over.

Prime is going to hurt them, make them into soulless automatons for his twisted fantasy of a perfect world that's as dull and painfully boring as a blank canvas.

Adora finally turns to Prime with righteous conviction filling her belly and a fire in her eyes, she stands on a broken leg and breathes in deep with cracked ribs, she points straight and true with a busted arm and speaks clearly with a damaged throat.

"Etheria needs us, and I'm not going to let you hurt anyone else…I-"

The cold becomes a factor no longer, broken bones become one again and the veil of darkness is lifted with conviction and love.

Love for her friends, the will to see them survive and flourish without a sword dangling over their heads, love for Catra who died in Adora's arms and the love and will for self sacrifice.

The conviction and love to do what is right.

Adora turns to Horde Prime ,her body begins to shine and for once the Emperor of the galaxy is stunned in silence.

"My friends are in danger. I am not going anywhere and I will stop you"

Or rather, afraid.

A golden sword in her hand the length of an arm manifests into existence and the magical manifestation of She-Ra disappears from Adora's side.

Adora is glowing.

Prime fails to respond. His Clones look on in absolute confused fixation, surrounding light fixtures warp, explode or their light distorts into a multitude of colors, sleeping drones are knocked aside as a cascading spectrum of hues and tints erupts from every nearby crevice of white blankness and it all envelopes a single girl with ripped clothing and a broken arm.

And that's not even the most awesomely astounding display of magical power sourced from within combined with the joining of two, it's a string of four vocalizations turned into a shockwave of apex proportions that cause containers to buckle, drone's to malfunction and Clone's to fall back and cover themselves from.

Just four single words woven together into a single sentence of pure power - a rallying cry, a beacon of hope or a means to a long lasting end.

For The Honor, Of Grayskull

---

For Glimmer, for her friends, for the people she swore to protect and for Catra.

This She-Ra is two rolled into one, the ancient guardian of Etheria finally free of the First One's magical controlling technology that restricted her into countless iterations and variations, she finally stands taller and infused with the natural of magic rather than artificial.

The form is Adora's like twice before but borne rather of love and a need to protect others. There's no ridiculous combination of a naive girls idea of a princess fused with a milistric background of a Captain's history, rather long white pants and boots with golden wing decals honoring a queen, a golden gorget with a style as a homage to Bow, golden bracers that run the upper arm and a breastplate with a heart attached.

A crown rather than a tiara in the shape of a magicats upbringing, long light blonde hair that speaks to Adora more than the uncomfortable two plus meter costume that was her idea of She-Ra for more than two years.

It's love, duty and a passion to protect. In many ways the fused relationship of a twenty two year old and a magical woman whose life numbers in the thousands.

Adora was a cheerleader before.

She is a Valkyrie now.

She stands tall and upright, nose level with Prime who begins to back off and bark or rather scream a litany of orders to the hundreds of Clones present, some charge their arm cannons and others move in with shield and baton while a select few flank their liege and lord in a protective circle.

There's no feeling of intense need to prove herself to the Rebellion and default at all times to a demigod due to low self esteem ; and neither is the all consuming need for vengeance and pain combined into a vessel that wrestled constantly with a unstable alter ego and unknowingly at the time, or a brutal combination of suicidal self destruction that ended premately upon learning of Catra's fate.

Rather this time it's a peaceful serene mind that results in the joining of two, a young and grizzled girl with little more than twenty years of life and most of it war and an ancient guardian who'd seen far better days.

There's no blinding rage clouding the mind, suppression of the self in terrible repression or a constant need to second guess, rather as Adora as She-Ra and She-Ra as Adora ,they look on to the assembled might of Prime's Clone's battalions who form massive shield walls up front and arm cannon snipers from behind it's- it's more of an odd and rarely felt sense of peacefulness following a long nap from a bath in Mystacor than facing down the greatest enemy Etheria had ever known in one final battle.

Adora and She-Ra prepare themselves, breathe in and out. Closes and open the eyes with a tranquil exhale.

And then promptly blocks a massive red of energy blasted from three arm cannons that is deflected into a nearby block of drones that causes a fiery chain reaction.

She-Ra's sword, or rather a massive greatsword that's stylized and less cumbersome than its controlling predecessor, is wielded in just a single massive hand.

It cleaves the first three advancing Clone's in half with ease and then goes for another six and six more back to back without a sweat - and is thrown with the weight and speed of a great javelin that impales another two together before dematerialising and appearing in its users use again.

She-Ra's bracer reflects a pair of laser cannons into the hanger ceiling and blows a chunk of wire and metal out.

A hand the size of a head, backed by an incredible level of muscle sinew picks a bot up and throws it across the room for more than a hundred meters that ignites a fuel point and its lines that snake around the hanger - scorching vital and vulnerable areas while spreading to more connected points in a steadily out of control inferno with warning sirens blaring louder and louder with the scream of a alarming choir.

The first of many advancing phalanxes are given the same fate with great holes ripped in their lines from thrown objects the size of tanks at first and then by sword, magic and powerful limbs next.

White lights blare a siren red, automatic voices warn in a forgien language as an anchored battleship two kilometers long and away has it's frontal tethers engulfed in flames and it collapses into the hanger floor, further causing mayhem and destruction - engulfing a whole company in fire and demicating a line of a thousand bots.

She-Ra advances through the flames that cling to her clothing and skin that scorch and leave terrible burn marks, but she is uncaring of such a mortal concern.

Clone's are ripped in half, awakened bots become scrap metal and the few flying drones are hurled and turned into deadly bombs that tear great holes in formations.

Prime is running.

And She-Ra is close behind.

As good as she could give it, with material prowess of twenty years and a complex mind of experience and ability - Adora could only ever hope to take on two or maybe three Clone's at once, they held the weight and strength advantage over her and towered at over two meters.

She-Ra simply tosses them around, she takes on ten or twenty at once without breaking a sweat and all the while advancing steadily towards her target.

Prime begins to retreat, slowly at first and then a fast walk towards the exit, more and more Clone's descend to protect him in a great triangle with weapons drawn.

Arm cannons and lasers fire on her and the numbers are intensified, some are deflected off armor, some hit their mark and slow her down, a few actually hurt.

She-Ra dodges the majority of them though, according to guards and former Horde Soldiers ; seeing a being so tall and powerful and broader than any person could ever be, equipped with arms and armor of a demigod. To see her move in action with fluidity of grace that exists on a scale and strength beyond anything mortal.

It's both terrifying and awe inspiring.

And that was Adora learning, Adora's uncomfortableness in a princess get up that never fit.

This She-Ra no longer suffers from restraints.

Fifty Clone's are chopped apart, have their limbs punched off or are crumpled when thrown into walls or each other.

Then the energy blasts come, a series of focused and directed magical attacks that originated from the point of the sword and come in slashing strikes that leave huge scorch marks in the perfect marble white floor and disrupt assembling formations of Clone's that attempt to guard their Emperor from the upcoming threat.

Prime screams something and the massive hanger doors that protect the inside from space begin to open, a great rush of air and atmosphere begin to be sucked out into the void with thousands of terrified Clone's and advanced space age equipment not securely fastened are tossed out in the freezing and radiation baked vastness of space.

They scream, they flail and cry out for salvation and reassurance to no avail and within a few seconds the voices silence and the figures simply cease to exist.

They called out for the one whose casual and callous disregard for their own lives and an inflated egotistical and narcissistic opinion of his own was quite frankly disgusting to experience.

Prime has just safiriced an entire hanger of followers to save himself from Adora without care and hesitation. He puts a sealed blast door between him and his hunter.

It doesn't work, She-Ra is simply unfazed by the chill and push of the void and continues walking, albeit slower towards the door and cuts it open with her sword. Another one seals shut behind and she begins the chase, great sprinting footfalls later that cover ground at speeds in excess of a sprinters wildest dreams-

-defending Clone's that hurriedly pour out of nearby rooms are basically mere paperweights to the might of She-Ra, some open fire with their laser cannons with questionable accuracy, eithers its out of terror of She-Ra or that thier god is fleeing.

Prime continues to run, barking out orders and screaming for his guards to attend him. One's like the two Adora fought appear and while they give significantly better resistance than the rest with some even lasting a few seconds, they are ultimately powerless when confronted with the awesome and unyielding power of She-Ra.

Some Clone's even try to defend Prime by slowing She-Ra down, using their bodies and very lives to buy time for Prime who casually throws them into battle. They matter little, Adora kicks a Clone so hard into a wall it ceases to exist.

More blast doors, more running, more of Prime desperately putting the lives of his flock between him and She-Ra and none of it matters.

Doors are wrenched open with the sword with the same manner as a can opener, panels are punched through and hundreds have died just for the sake of one man who had to flee.

With Prime in sight - bolting down a large corridor with a single dead Clone with a broken stun baton at its feet, Adora and She-Ra transform their sword into a whip and three seconds later, Horde Prime is caught by the ankles and comes to a sudden and ungracefully crashing halt. No matter how much he tries to crawl away using his incredible strength - She-Ra is stronger. And scoops the Emperor of the galaxy up in the same manner one would gather fish.

---

Prime is, to say the least - completely furious.

He screams, he rages, he calls out for invisible guards to attend him. He trashes around angrily and flails with wild limbs and while they bruise and hurt, it's all relative and more like paper cuts to She-Ra who drags the Emperor down a corridor by the collar of his clothing.

An hour ago or even a day ago - Adora would have had significantly different thoughts and feelings on this, she'd have gutted Prime by the throat and thrown his body down a shaft or stuck his corpse in space somehow. Now she's oddly content and with a sort of blankness surrounding her emotional state.

She could respond to Prime's increasingly agitated cries, how he'll bring runiation to his enemies and crush the universe of its dissenters and darkness, how Etheria will be turned into nothing more than a weapon with the surface cracked open and the people converted into this flock.

Before that'll have provoked a response, one of rage or self doubting but with She-Ra's strange level headedness providing a blanket of support and a overwhelming positive sense of clarity bringing peace and stability, Adora is content with listening to her own footfalls and the distant hum of machinery rather than the deluded rants of a madman.

And not before too long, they come to a fork in the road that Adora has come across before.

Her hesitation to act provokes a pleading response full of false lies and perverted promises.

"Child, I command you to release Prime from your custody and all will be forgiven. I-Prime will guarantee your safety amongst my flock and your friends will remain unharmed, I ask you now Adora to-"

Sometime ago Adora would have listened with horror and let those words dictate her sense of self, but she's different now in more ways than one. The naked vanity is disgusting, the tried words of honey repulsing and Prime's fucked up operation utterly unreasonable.

And so she chooses the other fork, down by a road she knows is right.

Very soon, they come to a familiar place. One lined with an uncountable number of biomechanical tubes in every corner and under every floor, so many platforms of worship it's beyond reckoning and a single great altar in the center with a pool before it. It's a memory laid bare of both Adora's experience of nearly falling to Prime's seduction and knowledge that Catra was twisted into something evil.

A tiny pang of anger flares up that calls for Prime to be gutted with her sword right now and just execute him on the spot but Adora knows better now.

Instead she drags along the three meter tall and 300 kilogram self proclaimed Emperor of the galaxy along the floor, a wriggling and writhing mass of a man degraded to a prisoner screaming for help that'll never come. It's a satisfying conclusion and an end for all three of them.

"You'll die here Adora, you will never leave this station. Prime's followers will find you and end you and even if you succeed you'll be trapped forever and never be able to see your friends again"

Prime is trying a different route now, trying to distract Adora as she looks around for…something.

"Such needless waste, it did not have to be like this Adora. All you need to do is to simply co operate and you will find yourself on Etheria with Glimmer and Bow - with happiness and joy at your fingertips and none the wiser of the events that has happened, Prime is a reasonable and caring man and he can guarantee this, why not let me go and we can simply forget about the past, no?"

As.

Adora swallows.

"It's-"

She thinks of Glimmer and Bow with sleepovers and dinners in mind, their beautiful smiles and loving care that brought Adora from the brink of self destruction following her initial disaster as She-Ra.

She blinks, swallows again and flexes her shoulders, dropping Prime to the floor with a thud.

He makes eye contact and gives a knowing crooked smile.

"I knew you would be reasonable Adora, Prime knows and Prime sees all , he knew you would come to your senses and he will-"

She-Ra drops her sword, letting it fall with a reverating clutter that echoes all around the massive and empty chamber.

She walks over to Prime, places a hand on his back and gives herself one final deep breath.

"It's time for you to go"

Prime acknowledges and thanks her, making to get up and return to greet his followers - safe and secure in the knowledge that he won again and that Prime does indeed always win.

Until he finds he can walk further no more, because She-Ra's massive hand on his shoulder is pulling him back. He turns round with a puzzled face full of confusion and furrowed eyebrows.

"Adora, you sai-"

"I know, it's time for you to go"

"Prime i-ss going, he accepts your mercy and will reimburse you in kind, Prime will-"

She-Ra grabs Prime by the collar and hauls him past his feet, she neither snarls nor scowls but her voice is dark and low with its intensity.

"I said, it's time for you to go"

Prime takes a second.

"What do you mean? Is this a trick?"

And the color drains from his face.

"No, you said it yourself, remember? I should have done it here with no hesitation instead of chasing you around, well we're right back where we started"

The Emperor rushes on all fours in a bid to get away.

"No, no no no. Prime does not- he knows that this is a simple misunderstanding that Ador- you. Prime cannot be slain your methods, he knows all and sees all that this is but a temporary measure and he will be back to rebuild and come from the ashes and he will-"

Adora turns around with Prime securely in her grasp towards the platform, every step is seemingly magnified with Prime's whimper of terror and yet a unwillingness to see it clear for how it really is, they pass the circle where Prime orchestrated a sermon to thousands, past the body of a Clone that committed sucide and very soon the three of them are before the great green pool of cleansing.

"There will be no comfort for you as Prime swears it now. Your miserable planet will be consumed in flame and your friends will cry for his divine mercy. You have chosen darkness and your end will come as Prime-"

Prime struggles in Adora's grasp, he makes threats and claims of godhood. It's pathetic really and kind of sad to witness.

She grabs his face with her free hand and looks deep into his eyes, closing her own and concentrating. Adora finds a bright yellow light engulfing them. She see's Prime's soul laid bare and it's a crooked and twisted thing, kept alive by scientific machinations well past any natural expiration date.

And Prime only reveals his true self upon inspection, a truly deranged and miserable wreck of a person that desperately clings to eternal life in a hollow and voidless "paradise". It's not living ,it's just existing without any reason to -and with it finally laid bare, Prime explodes in defensive anger.

"EVERY SLIGHT YOU HAVE MADE, EVERY INJUSTICE AND CHOICE HAS ONLY DEEPEND YOUR SINS, YOUR PRIDE HAS LED YOU TO THIS AND YOU WILL SUFFER FOR IT, PRIME WILL RISE FROM THE ASHES AND HE WILL MAKE YOU BLEED AND PAY FOR IN WAYS YOU WILL NEVER CONTEMPLATE"

Adora ignores the feeble cries of a doomed man and looks down below to the bubbling alien mass of vile liquid just a step in front.

"SO IT HAS BEEN AND SO IT SHALL BE, PRIME GUARANTEES IT AND WHAT HE SPEAKS OF SHALL ALWAYS COME TO FRUITION".

She takes a half step forwards and raises Prime infront to dangle over the pool that he sent so many to turn into unnatural forms of themselves, become mindless drones or to die in. All for one man's twisted aspirations of borrowed immortality

"YOU SHALL CRY, ALL OF YOU SHALL CRY FOR PRIME'S MERCY, SO IT HAS BEEN AND SO IT SHALL ALWAYS BE"

Adora drops Horde Prime into the pool , fetches her sword and waits for thirty seconds - satisfied that her magical senses have confirmed that Prime was indeed speaking the truth, she waits for his wriggling,clawing mass to float up grasp for safety with suffocating breaths. He tries to grasp on to any near handles with slippering claws and disgusting green fluid runs out of his mouth - the formerly gigantic figure that prides itself as being quite literally larger in life is choking on its own design, it's four eyes opening and shutting randomly rather than in sync and when Prime fails to swipes at She-Ra leg for leverage he descend into a desperate water filled rant.

Adora as She-Ra leans over with a hand on her knees and the other reaching behind for something, with a spectrum of calm not seen before in the last ten hours of misery and pain -she observes the last few moments of Prime with a blank face and a steady heart.

"You-you-you. You DARE to commit such a mockery to m-me to Prime. He will bring upon you a fiery lance of light to extinguish the dark that you reside in, Prime is ETERNAL and BEYOND your foolish means of-"

and without hesitation runs her sword through the Emperor's head.

A few seconds later and the distorted soul of Prime begins to leave his body, a black mass of corruption that's been the reason why Prime always escaped death with Adora, but now with her magically enchanted sight - the curtain has been pulled back and the master manipulator's tricks revealed.

You miscalculated.

The soul sort of screams, more of a tiny whine than anything when it gets popped like a balloon. The vacant body of Prime simply floats around in the cleansing pool, bobbing up and down like a cork and eventually a sort of strange but welcome silence falls upon the chamber where just two hours ago.

A ceremony of thousands took place.

And now just one person stands.

Adora and She-Ra.

---

Were you there when I tried to heal Catra?

Yes.

Did it work?

I am unsure, it was a botched healing.

That's it, he's gone. Should I be feeling victory or melancholy?

It's an odd kind of quiet, the same type when exploring old ruins with the knowledge that the masses used to congregate and live there ,but with the passing of time and people, nothing sentient remains and whatever used to call the temple room of Horde Prime - no longer do.

Adora is here.

She-Ra is just a bit over there.

Prime's corpse floats around.

Catra is dead.

Bow and Glimmer are on their way home.

Etheria is out of reach.

Adora's injuries are still present, ribs cracked and bones broken.

And it's cold too, like icy water on the skin.

The transition from She-Ra back to Adora was not a clean nor a comfortable one, coming back from a demigod that can shrug off laser cannons to then having Adora's body shrunken and limbs damaged again, rather than previously which was a complete heal and feeling refreshed -it's basically the opposite.

Adora sits on a pew, nursing her critically damaged body while She-Ra sits on the other side, she's not real in the physical sense since Adora can (and has) brushed her hands through like it's a hologram but it's more of a magical manifestation of understandably awkward silence for the past ten minutes - given the past events.

"Fuck -f-got stabbed"

Wincing in pain as she forgets to not flex her dominant arm again or more her torso, Adora does pop the question.

With her usual foot in mouth open and a hoarse throat.

"So, She-Ra right? I-I didn't know that you'd come back, was it you in the ship and during my dreams"

She-Ra sort of fidgets ,not making eye contact and staring straight ahead, her previously flowing cape and hair now sort of crumpled against her body and those muscle lines seem to be damaged. It's extremely disorienting to witness the proud Valkyrie like this.

"I. Yes, it was me" A pause, an awkward glance. "I was in your dreams, trying to reach you but it was difficult to do so"

"Why?"

"You broke the sword, our connection was likewise broken. I had to find my way back to an unwilling host- or well, you"

"-sorry,thought She-Ra was gone and it was just fragments left or something"

With a hiss of pain after she breathes too much antagonizing her busted ribs, Adora breaks off her own eye contact.

I tried calling for you -so many times, Prime's invasion and wi"

Looking down at the ground makes it easier to say.

"With Catra and trying to heal her, I tried so hard! Why?"

She-Ra stiffens, letting her magical sword fall to the ground with no sound. She sighs and rolls her tongue around before speaking.

"Do you really wish to know Adora?"

The reply is without hesitation.

"Yes"

She-Ra nods.

"Our…connection was unreliable and not strong enough, She-Ra requires a certain emotion to function without the sword and as a guardian of Etheria she or well- I can only be activated with strong emotions rather than a simple keyboard, the sword is-was our control mechanism and a grounding, without that it is more…difficult to summon Sh-me. As an analogy you cannot cross through a door that is shut, whether or not it means to be"

Adora begins to understand the true enormity of what she did.

"The sword of protection? I guess that that one aint it?"

"Yes, you destroyed it and it will never function again"

"What does that mean? Can you summon a new host for She-Ra? Am I the last one? Is it just us now or is something else the matter?" Adora blurts out the questions that've been lingering in the back of her mind ,some for years and others for mere days.

Why was I chosen?

And for the first time, She-Ra turns to look over her shoulder at Adora and make full contact, she seems to be smaller and less intimidating than last time but still a demigod. In a way she's just a bigger and golden version of Adora - the awkwardness persists with the occasional stutter and a stiff back. The proud Valkyrie is bent and bowed and yet carries herself effortlessly, an incredible contradiction and one that reminds Adora of herself.

Changing the conversation when a lull appears, Adora pivots to another topic that's bugging her.

"Are you okay? You don't look so good, I thought She-Ra regenerated or something?"

The reply is She-Ra turning round fully, showcasing and exposing the extensive wound her body has taken, rather than before where a transformation would instantly heal the both of them, She-Ra has cuts and bruises from melee and blackened skin from arm cannons.

"I am "okay" but I feel slightly lethargic and my limbs are..awkward to move. It is possible that our broken connection severed She-Ra's ability to regenerate and forced wounds received from before,during and after transformation to become permanent. However I am more than capable of performing my duties…probably painfully"

Adora wishes to reach over to reassure the goddess with an empathic touch on the shoulder before realizing that She-Ra really exists only in her mind and her right arm is broken.

"Reckon he's truly gone then, Prime?"

Stabbing through the floating Emperor's corpse with her sword, She-Ra seems to ponder.

"To be truthful I do not know. It's a question I cannot be sure of a certain answer, an eternity of arrogant complacency bought about his downfall and I do believe he was not obsfafiating about being trapped here, however that does not mean a backup has or has not been activated and that potential threat leaves Etheria still in danger"

She turns to Adora.

"You ran from me, although you did not know if it was me. I found it to be painful and I tried to reach you. I am truly sorry for the loss of your love and if I could have aided, I would. Instead I lurked at the edges of my wielders state, seemingly bound only to observe rather than act"

"I didn't ask to become She-Ra though"

"I know,. A woman is chosen and she becomes She-Ra with no debate or discourse, the mantle of which is neither an easy one or one that can be ignored - it just is"

She-Ra kneels with a silent grunt as her knee wobbles and her fingers shake briefly.

"I do not receive the luxury of choice either, I have been with twenty nine She-Ra's with some taking to the role with grace, others exploiting it for their own gain and some rejecting it. You are the first in a thousand years and you have resisted it the most, I both can and cannot sympathize with you"

The demigoddess studies the architecture of Prime's inner temple while she speaks with a childlike fascination, she's probably so used to Etheria's warm natural and diverse state that the cold artificial sameness of space age alloys is not only a terrifyingly new thing but a stark contrast to everything she's experienced.

Adora can definitely relate to that.

"But without the sword, the item that functions as a portable runestone and an empowerment tool, it is no longer possible for a new She-Ra to come into being, for the record I am not from Eternia but their methods changed how She-Ra is chosen. Etheria cannot claim a new wearer and this is it. We do not have the time nor the means to create a new line of succession and so I suppose this is it"

"We, Adora - are the last She-Ra. With the sword broken I will not return to greet the next wielder of the sword as there will be none, death is a eventual fate that befell every She-Ra before you but I have not experienced it - it will be my first and last time and not something I wish to go through but"

She-Ra pauses

The words that come through are strained, even a goddess can find it difficult to speak level and plain.

"I…. accept it, just as you accepted your fate then I too shall follow"

If Adora was capable of shedding a tear at this point, she would. Rather she listens as She-Ra continues to talk, speaking her mind and relaying information from the past and present in a unique viewpoint that only a thousands of years old immaterial being could.

"If there is a thing I have learnt however from thousands of years and dozens of She-Ra's it's that everything has to come to end, we may see the true permanent death of a man who brought mass ruin to the Eternian Empire and was yet laid low partly by his own arrogance- we too shall follow in death ,perhaps not today but soon"

"Was that supposed to sound positive?"

"No, but this is. Mara died to prevent the destruction of the universe and to save her friends, and so many She-Ra's sacrificed themselves for similarly heroic endeavors , whether or not they wished to embrace eternity with no regrets - they simply did what they believed was right. What matters is not a long life but the quality of it, love - happy memories and time spent with those you care for are far more fulfilling than a millennium of bleak stagnation"

"I guess so, I think of sleepovers and clubs, eating good food and brief adventures when it comes to that, I'm not sure if it outweighs the bad I've done in life but I'd rather have this than die at the age of eighty with regrets"

She-Ra gives a grim smile.

"I too have many similarities, could I have warned and aided Mara? Should I have influenced the Elemental Princesses to make less drastic decisions to save themselves? I do not know and they are memories that…hurt"

"I know all too well how that feels, but what happened - happened and being nostalgic….well it didn't end up too good" Adora shudders, remembering the rage influenced persona of Force Captain that manipulated and abused, the Rebellion Commander that relied too much on other's power and let her insecurities eat her up from the inside.

"Exactly, I cannot express the sorrow I feel towards the life you've led but I can guarantee that we will not die alone. I do not believe I shall outlive you and doing so would be wrong of me"

"I-...thank you, Catra wouldn't have wanted me to go out by myself and I miss her, but I'd rather have done this than let her be a slave for the rest of her life"

"I agree, however we must end this threat to the planet and people we protect. I am ready to seek out and destroy this station ,hopefully it will put a end to Horde Prime and if not -shall cripple him for years and perhaps decades"

Adora makes to stand up, her broken leg wobbles and she barely manages to catch herself with a pained whimper and hissing through her teeth.

"I'm not sure if I'll be much help, I can't walk but I'll try"

She-Ra silently glides over to Adora's side, a gigantic bruised hand making its way to rest quietly on Adora's shoulder.

"No need to, despite my own wounds I can make it under our own strength, when you are ready to join together I shall agree"

With flashes of the few good times, images of the Princess friend group eating ice cream and all together for a camera's shot with Seahawk's pirate pose and Spinerlla kissing her wife or even a stock photo of her promotion to leading a Battalion - a rarely smiling Catra and her tail curled around Adora's hip with Rogelio, Lonnie and especially Kyle together in the foreground.

Memories of a past long intertwined with the dead - people that haunted Adora for years during sleep. Some died for her, for those they loved.

And Adora isn't going to let their sacrifices be in vain.

"I'll do it if it means that ,that monster can't hurt my friends. They deserve to be happy"

"I believe you deserve to be happy too Adora, we all do"

"It's too late now and I made my choice- I have regrets but I'd probably repeat them, maybe a different me would have done things different but it's too late to worry about the past"

And make others' futures a brighter place.

Wheezing with pain in her ribs and stifling an urge to throw up stomach acid and water, Adora sandpaper coughs specks of blood before keeling over with a terrible dry heave followed by a sad moan and a full body shiver.

"I-when I was nearing the end, when Prime had his boot at my throat - I thought of Catra, I thought of her when she clung to me when we were kids and teenagers, how she stuck by my side in the Horde and how I believed our attachment would last forever"

With a trembling lip sent into quivers and showing complete vulnerability , Adora continues a confession through tears.

"And I hurt her so much, I didn't realize at first but seeing her grow in front of my eyes forced me to realize how badly I missed and wanted and...loved her"

With a deep sigh, fingers unfurling from fist and a wistful look, she curls in on herself

. "I wanted a place for the two of us to call our own, away from all of this. But now that dream is as dead as she is and I fucking ache for her"

Catra cutting her hair and wearing a more stylized version of her outfit to remove all of Prime's influence, she'd call Adora's name and after a brief second of looking into each other's eyes, one of them would press their foreheads together.

With a comforting arm made of metamorphosis slung around Adora's shoulders, She-Ra….well she tries her best.

"I am truly, deeply sorry for your loss. At the very least she died in the arms of someone who loved her unconditionally"

Adora wipes away a tear that was never shed.

"I loved- love her very much and - it took me twenty to figure it out"

"-I, thank you"

She distracts herself with Prime's floating corpse , thinks for a second and then sighs.

"Do you think we should, I don't know- jump into the reactor or something?"

"Probably, the sword which holds a fraction of She-Ra destroyed the Crystal Castle which was designed to withstand powerful weaponry, I imagine a detonation of She-Ra's power would be a power magnified"

"You know that means the end of us, right?"

"I do, but if it is the only way, then shall be so"

"I….yeah, I expected to not survive this anyway, didn't think I'd go out quite like this but nobody ever does I guess"

"One moment though, I know it may sound strange but you may wish to compose your final thoughts, even if I shall be the only one reading it. Some members of Squadron Grayskull believe it calmed the mind and set it ready for a last adventure"

"I do, I can't guarantee they'll be a exciting read - there's a- a lot to go through"

No one's ever is.

Adora looks into She-Ra, She-Ra looks into Adora. The demigod slowly fades out from her ethereal form and wraps around Adora's figure, the sword on the floor disappears and a magic tingling threads through her fingers.

Wounds are not healed, bruises remain and a headache persists but it is as it shall be. Adora and She-Ra have a job to do and if that involves the end of the line for them, if it saves Glimmer and Bow and ensures Catra did not die in vain - then so be it.

On a leg that is broken but still holds up, an arm that struggles to carry a longsword and fractured ribs that permit only the lightest of breaths. Adora once again stands out in the open, her hair mangled and messy, clothes ripped and torn but yet a fire still persists in her eyes and blazes in her heart.

She looks up to the invisible heavens, past the dead bodies that litter her surroundings and without hesitation, anger or fear - speaks the five words that defined mythology and persisted throughout the ages.

"For The Honor Of Grayskull"

This time, not an awesome deafening shout that rips hinges off and tears the fabric of the environment.

But a whisper.

---

If you think this was a fun one, I'm writing the next chapter right now and it's bringing me close to an emotional breakdown.

Follow me on twitter for cosplays, writing and random shit. KaffeeKupp

Fanfiction.

T-Rex Ninja Kid! I'm uh, well hi and thanks for the reviews and I hope I haven't hurt you too much!

Dar Sel'La , I actually had this planned out from this start, the only difference being is that it was originally supposed to be 30-40k words and we are now twice that! I do understand the point of no return and Adora has slapped it with a wrench, it takes Adora admitting that she needs help and that she cant do it her own for She-Ra to actually be able to contact her, without the Save The Cat with Catra in her arms or with her on the ship ,alive and well to protect. That connection simply didnt exist until now.

I hope that answers!