The Power of Grayskull

by TheH8fulM8s

The words had always been there. When little Adam raised his sword and said them he became something strong enough to survive alone in Eternia's wastelands. But one day he arrived on Etheria, a place full of life and strangers. Everyone here seems to want something from him, but he only wants his newfound sister, Force Captain Catra. For her, he'll do anything. (S1 Canon Divergent)

15. The Circle of Honor

Editors Note - WELL, I certainly called it when I hypothesized that this chapter would be long. Very sorry for the wait this time, guys, this chapter was a monster that kind of got away from us, and at a kind of inoportunte time what with the 'everything' going on. We are still going on that Hiatus, I'm afraid, but hopefully it will be a more merciful wait, now that you know how this arc of the story ends. Oh, and if you want to ever inquire after us, to make sure we haven't up and left this big baby behind, I've made it possible to ask me stuff on tumblr so you can go there to bug me about it if you want, or ask questions about PoG in general. (The link has been actually added this time ':) shout out to the guest user who asked about it)

'spookiookieghosts' is the tumblr's name, hopefully yall can find it effectively.

Hope all of you are safe right now (and registered ;/ ) and I hope you all enjoy reading. We will see you later.

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Hordak observed through the blast shield and activated the lazer. A searing line of red light, three centimeters in diameter, drew itself along the gray square of scrap steel. In less the ninety seconds it was carved neatly into two diagonal pieces.

His Imp fluttered down onto his shoulder as robotic arms cleared the cooling scraps. Hordak lifted the sword onto the rack where it reflected his red eyes back at him. A proximity alarm interrupted him with a harsh chirp and he waved one hand at the doorway to his lab.

"My lord…" Shadow Weaver trailed off as she entered, "…may I inquire about this experiment?" There was slightest hitch of concern to her voice, Hordak did not miss that. He summoned her with a gesture as if she two were a mere robotic serivtor.

"Observe." He activated the drilling lazer, a chill of wonder racing up his steel-reinforced spine as the beam skated harmlessly across the blade. The red light faltered, flickered, and shorted out. The blade glowed brightly. Hungrily.

"What in the world?" Shadow Weaver approached, standing at his shoulder, too close for his liking.

"Blunt force cannot harm either. The weapon is an anomaly," Hordak mused, "but not why I have called you here." He moved to a wall of monitors displaying blown-up images of yellowed pages and blueprints. The documents the boy had possessed. "This writing is indecipherable. Can you read it?"

"I can investigate it, sire," Shadow Weaver bowed, "however-"

"If the answer is 'no' then say so," Hordak growled, "I intend to read what is written here." He marveled at the ingenuity of the blue-prints, not for the first time, and the potential of each invention. The designs were sound but the little paragraphs of explanation taunted him with their mystery.

"I can look it over, sire," Shadow Weaver stood under his glare for a moment, "…but I can only reliably tell you if I have seen the language before. That is all, I'm afraid."

"Another disappointment." Hordak turned to the larger screen across the lab. The cracked glass displayed a shore South-West of the Fright Zone colored pre-dawn gray. The badlands stopped at sheer cliffs to become a flat slope of sand, broken up by the occasional uneven hump of a dune.

The arena occupied a semicircle of carven rock that terminated a shattered pathway of limestone road. The iron-blue sea flickered behind it and the sand around it was dark khaki brown from the rainfall of the previous days.

The 'Circle of Honor' was, in fact, circular. A respectable one-and-half-story structure of sandstone that had all the hallmarks of the old Scorpioni Kingdom. Unostentatious construction, curves instead of angles, clearly defined stairwells at each corner of the compass. Two double-portcullis entrances facing seaward and towards the road.

"A fine place," Shadow Weaver said, lurking at his shoulder.

"Attend to your work," he growled, "I am merely making sure events are preceding correctly." A number of skiffs had already docked in two neat rows along the forgotten roadway. One, he observed with an arched eyebrow, bore an immense pallet upon which a tarp pinned under a pile of large chains billowed slowly in the sea winds.

His mind worked rapidly at every possible answer and he curled his hand in an open claw. He twisted an imaginary dial and the world on the screen ran in reverse. The tide flowed backwards to the sea, long ribbons of sand ghosted back into place from where the wind had upset them, and squads of soldiers marched backwards out of the arena to mingle around their skiffs.

He frowned as the pallet-bearing skiff flickered to life and reversed itself into the north-facing entrance of the arena, out of sight. When it emerged again, much later, the early morning had darkened back into near-night blackness. He could make out very little other than a large shape under the tarp. He cursed himself for establishing a single stationary camera the day before. He needed a better view.

He glanced at Shadow Weaver with growing suspicion. She was dutifully examining one of the blueprints. Her fingernail hovered over a line of script. Her eyes searched the design of a single-person air vehicle for secrets. She found a corner scribbling and compared it to the larger image on the screen above her.

Hordak, with a deft movement on the keypad of his left wrist, dispatched a drone towards the arena while she was occupied. It would not do for him to look unprepared. He resumed the present stream of footage. A small skiff trailed a line of sand as it roared in from the Fright Zone. A soldier on the arena's upper rim signaled it around the far side to the sea-ward facing gateway.

The boy, he thought, come to end this. Finally.

After the skiff had parked itself by the seaward gate, Lonnie began to check Adam over one last time. She tugged at the edge of his tunic, satisfied it was snug and wouldn't trip him up in the fight. She coaxed him into letting her tie his hair into a ponytail again. She held him at arm's length and looked him over. Pants tucked into his boots. Sleeves rolled up past his elbows.

"I guess you're ready," she mumbled, then at a thought, she unstrapped the sheath from her boot. She snapped it around Adam's calf and slipped out the combat knife. She held the edge up to her thumb and pressed it til a thin line of blood beaded around her fingertip. Adam gulped at the sight.

"Dangerous," Lonnie said and passed the knife into his hand, "but it's little." She smirked. "Like you." She stood up and held out her right hand. "Like this." He adopted the stance. "Just like when we punch. Show me a punch, Adam." Adam jabbed the air once, blue eyes following the tip of the knife. "You got it. It's just like a punch."

Adam looked behind her, eyes sparkling at once and a smile touching his face. "Ssss-scorpia?" Lonnie turned, heart lifting. If Scorpia was back that meant Catra was back and if Catra was back then maybe this was all called off. Her hopes crashed when she saw the figure descending the narrow stairway.

"I'm lucky to say that she's my daughter," Commander Serket said. She offered Lonnie a sad smile. Lonnie saluted rapidly. "At ease. This…this is he?" The pity in the old soldier's voice seemed a thousand times worse than all the vicious commentary she'd been taunted with that week.

"Adam," Lonnie said, "show the Commander some respect. Like this." She demonstrated a salute and Adam obeyed rapidly, nearly cutting his forehead with his unsheathed knife. "Someone help this child. Put it away when you're not using it. Knife safety!"

"O-k," Adam said, gingerly sheathing the small blade, careful not to catch the serrated edge on his pant-leg. He stood up, looking up at her hopefully. She rolled her eyes.

"Yes. Good job," Lonnie said. Adam beamed.

"Well," Serket's voice was bright, but strained, "I'm sure such a tough little thing doesn't need much armament, but we do have a sword for him. Maurice?" A large Scorpioni warrior in red armor marched smartly down the steps, a shortsword in a leather sheath held in his claws. He stepped past them and knelt before Adam, offering the weapon.

"Wow," Adam breathed, eyes dancing over the big man. He gingerly took the weapon and smiled. "Thhhh..thank…y-you." Maurice bowed his head solemnly. Adam looked at Lonnie for approval.

"Yes," she sighed, "good job." Adam tried to put the belt around his waist and hummed in thought when it wouldn't cinch to his small hips. He grinned and looped it over one shoulder like a limp bandolier. He grinned at her, shifting a little as the loose sword slapped his thigh where it hung.

"Great work," Lonnie said, her spirit plummeting, "great work, Adam." She turned to Commander Serket and found her watching the boy with a tiny smile.

"Yes," Serket sighed, "Lonnie is your name, yes? You don't have to stay for this." Lonnie watched Adam adjust the sword belt, tongue poking out in concentration as he did so.

"Yes, I do, ma'am."

"He seems to like you a great deal."

"Yes, ma'am."

"…you're a good soldier, Lonnie, I want you to know that."

"Thank you, ma'am," Lonnie said, eyes focusing on the arena gates. Serket broke away from them to ascend the stairs but paused at the stairwell. She stood before Adam.

"The best of luck, little one," she touched his cheek with her pincer, "I hope you prevail. Lonnie, join us at the top of the stairs when Adam is ready." Maurice added a bow, a little deeper than before, and they departed.

Lonnie and Adam steeped into the spare, narrow inner-wall of the arena. It was dark and felt strangely haunted. Lonnie was aware that, across the arena's circumference, a giant creature waited.

"Hey," Lonnie said, biting down her own emotions, "show me your stances. Come on." Adam showed them. Two measly stances. A high guard and a mid-guard. He was adapting to the steel, light as the green orichalc sword was, and doing his best. Always doing his best.

And doing far more than he had nine days ago, when he'd barely understood her at all.

"You gotta fight, Adam," Lonnie said, pointing through the portcullis before them. "Fight." Adam's eyes widened.

"No," he whined. He looked at the shortsword bitterly. "No!"

"Yes," Lonnie said, using the voice she'd heard her sergeants use, "yes, you do. Fight."

"Lonnie…"

"This is your boss talking now, Adam," she said, stern but not angry, "and you gotta go out there and fight." Adam's mouth twisted in and out of a thoughtful frown.

"…o-k…"

"I'll be right up there," she pointed overhead, "cheering you on." She gestured at the gate, making a rising motion. "That opens? You go out." She walked two fingers along her arm towards the arena. She made a fist. "Then you fight. And you don't stop fighting."

Adam nodded, still looking like he'd just been grounded for a year. Lonnie ruffled his hair and a smile fought its way onto his face.

"You got this, little man. You. Got. This. When its over," she forced herself to lie, "you'll get to see Catra again." His popped up, eyes bright with hope. "After." She gestured away. "After you 'fight'." Adam looked ready to protest but settled for a single nod. Lonnie squeezed his shoulder once and turned away.

After climbing what felt like a million steps she emerged into the half-light of dawn. She traveled through the stands to the viewing box, the single adornment the arena had, passing Octavia's soldiers like they'd spring on her at any moment. Inside she found a spartan collection of stone seats.

Serket stood at the front, having a full view of the arena and the sea beyond it. A rim of orange light was glinting above the waves. Lonnie had never seen moonrise over the sea before but she was too preoccupied to enjoy it now.

"Finally," Trapjaw's deep voice rippled from the dark corner of the room, where he'd been resting on two of the chairs at once, feet kicked up on one lazily, "breakfast time." He whistled sharply to someone outside and orders echoed along a chain of his prison-troopers.

"Where's Force Captain Octavia?" Lonnie asked Serket. She followed a pincer to the lowest stands, at the western center of the circular arena. Octavia leaned forward on the rim of the arena, her one eye glaring as the seaward portcullis rose with a screech of ancient gears. It stopped quickly, admitting Adam almost without clearing the ground.

The boy marched brazenly into the arena, boots leaving a trail of little white crescents to the focus of the Circle of Honor. His purple hood turned this way and that way, taking in everything like he usually did when he came somewhere new.

Lonnie fought down the last desperate urge she had to try and put a stop to it all somehow. The viewing box shook as rusty chains in the walls ground together and opened the portcullis directly beneath them. The cranking filled her heart and her brain until all she could think about was how long it was taking to admit something so large.

This was it. It was really happening. Her mouth suddenly filled with a bitter, dry taste. The gate stopped and a long moment of utter silence passed. Trapjaw broke it with a snort.

"Somebody needs some waking up apparently," he growled. Lonnie watched him raise a black remote into the air. He adjusted a dial with a huge thumb and pressed a red button.

An agonized howl ripped Etheria in two.

The soldiers along the stands jolted backwards, weapons readied. Lonnie resisted the urge to close her eyes and cover her ears. Below them the heavy, grating movements of an enormous body vibrated the stones of the arena. Adam saw it first of them all, piercing the air with a shriek of terror.

"I'm sorry, kid," Lonnie let slip. No-one noticed. They were all too busy watching the Karikoni emerge.

Down in the pit, Adam's legs wouldn't move. Something was coming out of the arena's black depths and it was enormous. Bigger than the Fire-Breather at the old gray castle. Bigger than the eight-legged crawlers he'd seen cross the badlands. A real-life giant.

He saw a corpus of faded red shell struggle outwards and Adam thought it would never stop emerging. It would fill the arena and crush him then spill out to cover the whole world.

It's body was a round bunker of carapace, like a horseshoe crab, pulling itself free of the too-small arena gateway with a single five-fingered hand, the digits segmented like a spider-crab's legs, at the end of a long arm.

Then the claw emerged. It was big even for something so large. A deadly crescent-moon of red shell with stalactite-sized spines on the meeting vector. It opened and closed as it hovered above the body like the head of a red hydra. It bumped the tan walls of the arena and scraped up to hook on the lip of the stands.

A cry of alarm from above sent ten soldiers racing to the spot, forming a shield wall bristling with spears. The hand pressed to the ground and Adam expected the whole earth to shift as the creature pushed itself up off its belly, dragging itself fully out of the arena gates.

Strike!

"AH!" Adam jumped in surprise as the Other One. He landed and his legs buckled under him, teeth clicking as he fell onto his behind. He sobbed tearlessly once, overcome with terror.

You must...fight! Fight. Lonnie said 'fight'. He was supposed to fight that.

Nobody could fight that!

The monster rose up and Adam beheld an equally invincible belly over squat, square hips. Tree-trunk legs bent armored kneecaps and then it was pulling itself up to try standing on a pair of raptor feet. Triangular, agile, the points like red tree roots pulled from the ground. Aiding it's shaky stand was a long, fanning lobster's tail sprouting from the lower back of its shell.

The monster roared, pain making it sound mad with fury. And then it turned its bulk slightly and Adam saw eyes staring back at him.

Enormous, like everything else about the creature. Bulbs of yellow split with slit-black pupils taller than Adam was. They found him and he would've run if he'd had the presence of mind.

In Hordak's lab, the speakers crackled with the Karikoni's roar. Shadow Weaver deliberately ignored the outraged snarl from her lord.

She flexed her fingers and sent Dark Dream off with a silent laugh of triumph. She acted in the moment before Hordak would whirl on her and demand answers, when he was focused on nothing but his own fury.

Go. She thought to the dark creature. Break it's will and give the boy an opening. Remember, if he survives this fight he will be all yours someday. The absence of its power left her with a brief touch of vertigo that added to her faux confusion.

"Sire?" She turned to the screen and thanked her own momentary loss of self-control. It made her eyes widen realistically as she saw the sheer size of the beast. Hurry, Dark Dream, the boy would not survive even a second.

"Dead gods of Etheria," she whispered, "is that…surely he's been dead for years, my lord?" Hordak launched into a terrible rant and behind her mask, Shadow Weaver grinned. "I shall put an end to this farce at once, sire." Shadow Weaver rose and stopped as stern fingers snatched her shoulder.

"No," Hordak growled, "this ends today. I will deal with our Warden afterwards." His eyes flashed. "I swore to Klaw-ful of the Karikoni he would never see the sky again…I have been made a liar! But...let it proceed."

In the arena, the Karikoni chuffed wearily. There had been a battle long-ago, in the time before the decades of cold darkness, when Klaw-ful, Champion of the Karikoni, had pierced the hull of a Horde Destroyer. Stinking, clinging oil had gushed forth like blood from a steel aorta. The waters of the Sea of Sighs turned black and thick. Swimming through it had been like moving through a slowed version of time. His own body was like a foreign weight pulling him down. Now that sensation was everything he knew.

Where was he? What had happened? Did the Horde rule the world now, at last? His people. The Karikoni. What happened to them? His eyes burned in the low-light.

Mother Karikon, he thought to the patron mother-goddess of his people, oh, my eyes. Was the outside always so bright?

Then he heard it in the wind. The sudden crash and the hushing retreat. The next wave hit the beach far away. He forgot everything, the soupy mixture of thoughts and the strange lazarus feeling of being thrown back into the world after such monstrous imprisonment.

A wave crashed again. Klaw-ful did not have the energy to shed tears of joy.

"The...sea," his voice croaked like sickly thunder.

The sea! The sea! He moved, heedless of aught else save the noise. The sea. His home. Oh. Oh! The sea! Water! Real water! Cool depths and soft, wavering daylight...plankton to feast on. So hungry. Mother. Mother Karikon, let me live to touch the water. To scrub myself clean with the salt and the sand…

The heavy metal collar around his neck reintroduced itself with a sudden burst of blue sparks. Agony stripped away his slim rebirth and sent him crashing to the ground.

"Please…"he whimpered, his claw trembling towards the sky, red against blue, "...please…"
"You know how this works," his misery sharpened to a spear-point of hate. That voice. He knew that voice. Trapjaw. His tormentor. "Kill him and you can leave, freak-show. How bout it?"

Kill? Kill who? What is this? Where am I? Stands. Watching soldiers in their black armor. His eyes hove around place, seeing everything without comprehending. Then settled on a small movement. A human in royal purple. Small...too small. A child!

No…

Agony again. The blue lightning scouring his neck and searing down through every nerve ending. He resisted. He was a warrior of the Karikoni. Trained for the defense of the helpless. He defied the Horde. He fought for the freedom of Etheria. Pain was the way of warriors.

"Fine," Trapjaw's voice again, sneering, cruel, "then you go back in the cell. Forever this time."

"Back...back...in….?" Darkness. Thousands of pounds of stinking, sour water pummeling him. Hunger. Isolation. An hour of life stretched to years and years. Until he withered from age but he would live a long time. Karikoni were strong and sometimes could live almost two hundred years. He was still young but, oh, he felt ancient. Older than the islands of his home.

I am Klaw-ful. He thought desperately. He stared at the child and tried to ignore the hushing sound of the sea. So soothing. So near. When he was in its waters he'd be free. I am Karikissa's son. Klaw-kon's soon. I am a warrior.

The sea. The call of the sea. So close just beyond the walls. Just past the child.

Klaw-ful's heart shattered in his great chest as the boy took a shaky stance. He collapsed forward, face pressed to the hard, rain-toughened sand and hid his eyes.

"Forgive me…" he said to the boy, to the shades of his parents, and to the world of Etheria itself, "oh, forgive me...forgive...me." He let himself slide into the battle-state he'd been taught by mentors who'd turn from him in shame for this weakness. He let himself stop feeling.

The sea was calling to him. And he'd pay any price to return to it. The boy's eyes widened as he understood what was about to happen. Klaw-ful advanced. The child dropped his sword and ran for his life. He began to climb uselessly up the seaward gate and Klaw-ful crawled after him, lumbering his bulk forward like an animal, too exhausted to stand or use his martial skill. His mind was far away, hiding from his body's actions.

In the box, Lonnie looked on helplessly.

"Ha!" Trapjaw whooped. Some of his Prison-Troopers joined in around the stands by the viewing box. "Look at him go." She wanted to knock him down and kick his jaw until it broke and every time he ever smiled or mocked or sneered there'd be a little twinge of pain that would remind of the day he chuckled like an idiot while a ten-year-old was murdered. She forced herself to watch.

To remember. Adam was barely six feet up the gate when the Karikoni closed the small distance. It rose itself up on one knee and reached out with its claw. As if to spare her the sight, the day-moon rose above the waves enough to blind Lonnie briefly with its light.

"No," she snapped, "Adam!" She rubbed away the spots in her eyes and threw herself against the stone railing, ducking low so she could see. What she saw made her heart stop.

The Karikoni, a few yards from its victory, had thrown itself backwards diagonally, howling in pain. It's claw covered its eyes, its hand swatted weakly towards the portcullis. Adam clung to his place, unharmed if utterly petrified, a glowing outline of light around him.

"What in the world," Serket breathed, leaning forward a little.

"No," Trapjaw growled, teeth clenching like he'd just missed the winning goal by a centimeter, "no-no-no!"

The light. Yudiah's moon-light. The words Shadow Weaver had said came back to her. He hasn't seen daylight for thirty years...

"Heh…ha..ha-ha!" This wasn't a good laugh, she knew that, but it drew from her. "Locked up in the dark for thirty years." The daylight must've been like a burst of acid to its weak retinas. She cupped her hands over her mouth.

"Adam!" Adam uncurled a little as the words reached him. "Fight! Fight it!"

"Mmmmm," Adam shimmed down carefully, never looking far away from the writhing red monster. It's pitiful trumpeting noises were so loud. So big. He crept along the upturned sand and retrieved his sword, wincing as the daylight bounced off it.

"Oh," he said in understanding. The light. The light had hurt the monster's eyes. He watched, wary but fascinated, as the creature dragged itself away from the long rectangles of light the portcullis admitted. He retrieved his shortsword. Maybe if he hit it a little bit it would go away.

"Yaaaaaah!" With a tiny cry lost in the din of the monster's howling he rushed at the nearest limb, its left leg, and swung hard. He vibrated as the shock of striking the shell shivered up his arms. The sword dropped to the sand and he heard the monster pause its cries. "Ooops…"

With a desperate roar the monster spun towards him, its wide tail tilling the sand in the shape of a scallop shell.

….the sword…

Adam heeded the Other One and snatched the hilt in his hand, scurrying the only direction he could: directly under his opponent. He was in the shade of its belly, hemmed in by its huge limbs. The monster kept turning in a circle, trying to swipe at an enemy that wasn't there and Adam followed him until he started getting dizzy.

He poked experimentally up at its stomach, grunting when his sword pinged off the thick carapace.

…joints…

"Ah?"

Joints!

"Ah?!" An image flashed in his mind. Times he'd scratched at his elbow. Or his knee. "Oh."

He tossed his ponytail out of the way and squared himself up. He squinted in concentration and grinned when he saw a pale flash of soft tissue at the groin of the monster. It's left hip-joint spread when it moved and Adam tensed, sword ready. He nearly lost his nerve. He couldn't possibly hurt something so big.

Catra. He thought. If he won he could see Catra. He grit his teeth and stabbed with all his might. He was so much smaller than the monster the sword barely touched its flesh, but where it did it sank it far more easily than he expected.

The monster reacted at once. It's howls choked off at a high-pitch and it scuttled backwards, away from the pain. Adam followed, pulling his sword free and gagging.

"Ewww," a stinking, blue ichor stringed off his blade. He shouted at his attacker. "Stop! Shoo!" If it would leave him be, he wouldn't hurt it any more.

ATTACK! DO…not…Stop!

"Ah?"

…you…are…so far... from me...

The monster stopped and Adam bounced off the underside of its tail. The light outside vanished as it's huge claw under to grasp for him, like a man swatting at a mosquito. Adam yelped and pressed flat to the ground, ears ringing as the huge claw snapped mere inches above him. He was glad he was so little or he'd have been chopped in halff, but he was trapped

Nowhere to go. No one to save you. You'll never see Catra again.

Adam gasped and shook his head, eyes flickering around the shaded space. Red eyes with black pupils glared at him. A little shadow of darkness bubbled atop the sand like a puddle of tar.

Not here. Not like this. You are mine, Adam, and only *I* will be the one to destroy you…

It leapt past his ear and he tried not to rear back lest he rise up straight into the snapping claw. He saw the black shape splash against the monster's broad belly and vanish into thin air.

"Uuhh," he moaned. Now Dark Dream was here too. This was easily the worst day of his life.

The creature stilled above him and then clicked curiously. Adam froze, trying to make himself invisible by sheer will. The monster turned right and clicked. It spun it's face left, its body creaking as it did so. It turned with a crackling growl and then yelped as it was scorched by the daylight once more.

Adam cried out and hurried out from under it as it threw itself backwards onto its knees, claw covering its eyes once more and double-jointed fingers digging at the top of its head.

"Ah," Adam gasped. He backed away until his tunic scraped against the far wall of the arena. The monster shook, gibbering, and then wailed as the blue light sparked around its neck once more. It threw itself back but it had nowhere to go and there was an awful echoing crack of stone as it broke a seam through the arena wall with its flailing. The soldiers up top scattered like startled insects. It's yellow eyes swam with fear.

There was a voice in Klaw-ful's head and it was hissing diabolical things.

Failure. Weakling. You have no honor left. What are you fighting for? They've been enslaved for three decades. They've forgotten their hero. They don't remember you enough to hate you anymore. You are lost. You are nothing.

"Noooo."

There will only ever be pain and darkness and solitude. You should've fought to the death when they took you but you were too much of a coward!

Dark Dream hissed with gluttony as it broke the spirit of Klaw-ful. So richly prepared with decades of torment. There were morsels of war underneath that and it dredged those up like rotting bodies from the ocean floor to putrify in the burning light. Fires along the shoreline. Loved ones lost in the deep, never to be found. His home destroyed and desecrated. His world long gone and, with this last selfish cruelty, lost forever.

And shame. Sweet, tantalizing shame. The image of a human. A boy-child staring at him in horror. The clarity of his aching heart as he chose between killing and going back to the cell.

What would they say of their champion when they learned he murdered a child for his freedom? The shock collar buzzed and sent a swell of despair through his prey that became a tidal wave of defeat.

"Kill him! He's right there! What are you doing!" Spit flew from Trapjaw's mouth as he shouted. Lonnie expected the remote in his hand to break as he jammed his thumb on the red button. The shock collar on the Karikoni sparked to life and sent the creature into another fit of pain that ended only when it collapsed fully onto its back, mighty limbs wheeling pathetically in the air.

Yudiah rose fully at last and the daylight filled the arena like a bowl. It touched the Karikoni and transformed him. Lonnie gasped and wonder grew in the back of her mind, eclipsing all her other emotions.

"The shell," she whispered, "they really do decorate it."

"With their life's achievements," Serket said next to her, "the poor thing. He's rabid with pain."

The light rebirthed the colors under untold years of grime. Greens, blues, whites, and whole pallet of others. The shell brightened them and became such a hot, fiery red that Lonnie couldn't take her eyes away if she'd wanted to.

The designs on the arms and legs were too far away. The back-shell was pinned under its slowly weakening bulk. But on its belly was a proud mural of defiance. The winged symbol of the Horde was shattered, consumed in a blue ocean painted on its belly. On its chest there was a collection of white-sand islands. A claw rose behind it, cradling the moons of Etheria, Yudiah at the center like the prize jewel of a crown.

It was beautiful. It was unlike anything Lonnie had ever seen in the Fright Zone and a rush of sadness touched as she realized that it would need to be destroyed.

Focus, soldier. Focus. You're at war right now.

"Adam," her voice rang out clearly, the Karikoni's moaning had become quiet, "finish him off." The boy was entranced by the colorful decorations, of course, for he'd never seen anything like them either. "Hey!" He turned to look up at her. She drew a thumb across her neck. "Do what you gotta. Kill him."

"K…K..kill?" Adam blinked, speaking quietly to himself. The monster wasn't attacking him anymore. He wanted to leave. To see Catra.

…sur…vive…you…must…kill

"But…"

An image flashed across his mind, the Other One was showing him again, a memory from the old gray castle. The beast-man howling as it vanished into the chasm of the bottomless moat. The talking skull spitting useless curses as it fell in to.

" Kill you!" It whined in its high-pitched metal voice. "I'll kill you!"

Suddenly it was all he could think about. The skull. It's purple cloak and its horrible, metal voice. It had been so angry at him. Had wanted to kill him for no reason. Adam licked his dry lips and tried to will himself somewhere else. Wherever Catra was. It wasn't fair! When he finally felt like he could be safe, happy the world kept trying to kill him!

Do not…waste time!

He'd only see Catra again if he survived. If he killed.

He shuffled forward, boots digging up sand, aware of the deathly silence in the arena. He was certain, despite how impossible it was, that if he looked behind him he'd find the talking skull there, grinning at him from the sand.

"Get up!" The blue-man was shrieking from overhead, shattering the quiet. "Kill him! Kill the little freak!"

"Um," he stopped, "uh…ah!" With relief he realized the shell was too thick. He couldn't hurt him after all. He almost laughed with happiness. An image. The Other One in his mind again. The eyes. The giant yellow eyes. The point of Adam's sword.

"Oo," he squeaked, nauseous. He couldn't do that. That was awful!

Adam. The Other One's strained voice soothed him. I know…I'm sorry…but you must…you must. Or he'll…kill…you.

He crawled up the prone monster's broad belly, trying not to get distracted by the colorful engravings, failing at that.

He had to scuttle on his palms and knees to get up to its face and paused as his hands pressed over the big moon at the center of his torso. Beneath it he felt the rapid lub-dub-lub-dub of its gigantic heart. Soon it would be still. Adam would make it go still.

The collar sparked as he neared the face. The monster winced.. .He. He winced in pain, shocked by the collar. The person -that's what he was, Adam decided, no matter how he looked or sounded or made him feel- this person was so hurt already he barely twitched as Adam knelt a few inches from his neck.

He shuddered and opened his thin eyelids. Adam could see how tired he was and that made him strangely angry for having to fight. Adam didn't do want to hurt him but now he had to...had to...

"O-k," he said, "its…o-k." The warrior under him saw the blade and tried to hold firm but at the last moment, gave into terror and squealed with its huge voice. His claw covered his face and bubbling pleas spilled from him.

"Hey," Adam said, "hey!" More pleas. Weak. Unintelligible. He remembered a moment like this. Hiding behind his hands and his hood, when a stranger was yelling in his face. But Catra didn't kill him then. Even though she could've. She helped him. Made him believe in a kinder way.

"Adam," Lonnie called.

"No," he mumbled to himself.

Adam…you don't understand…

"No!" He screamed at the Other One. There was a scraping of movement, the warrior peeked at him warily. Adam stood and tossed the sword away. "No." The giant, black pupils expanded as it understood him. Adam sat, hugging his shin and hiding his face against his knees.

"No," he said to himself.

Yes! A voice hissed in his ear. Dark Dream appeared from the person's chest, blotting out the little moon on it like an inky eclipse. It skittered up Adam's leg like a black spider and latched on the back of his neck.

Yes! You will! I told you it doesn't stop here! Adam grasped at the spot under his ponytail for a second then his hand began cranking slowly down toward his calf. Toward the knife Lonnie had given him. You will do this, and if it pains you so much the better. You do not get to show mercy to this weakling after what you did to me!

"You!" Adam growled. Dark Dream deserved what it got. It was a monster. A real one.

You should've killed me, boy, but that was your mistake! Now this is the consequence! This is your fault! He groped with his left hand, feeling it go numb as Dark Dream tried to control him, if he could grab something and hold himself in place he might shake free.

His searching fingers found a long ring of solid metal around the red warrior's neck. He grasped it like a shipwrecked sailor clinging to a floating beam. The audience in the viewing stand watched him in amazement.

"What's going on?" Lonnie muttered to herself. "What are you doing?" She saw Adam's bare hand touch the shock collar and she turned to watch Warden Trapjaw react. He grinned and pressed the button. The Karikoni thundered with pain.

"You," her feet moved like they were in quicksand, her fists curled, "rotten cheater!" The world sped up suddenly and her knuckles met his jaw. Trapjaw pinwheeled his arms and tumbled over a stone chair. Lonnie paused, distracted by her own audacity and the throbbing pain in her hand. Trapjaw's huge fist came rocketing towards her. A pink pincer stopped it an instant before it landed.

"Warden!" Serket's demeanor had changed. Her kindliness was gone and the cold fury that replaced it chilled Lonnie to the bone. "Lonnie!"

"That's interference!" Lonnie shouted.

"Shut your mouth, trooper!" Trapjaw snarled.

"You shut it," Lonnie barked back, "you just can't win a fair fight, huh? Everyone in this place has to dogpile on a little kid! You're weak, Warden, and more than that you're a coward."

"Trooper!" Serket's voice made her snap her heels together. "Far side of the box now!" Lonnie backed away, shaking with adrenaline and the slow realization of everything she'd done and said. She'd just called an institutional officer of the Fright Zone a 'weak coward'.

Dang. She thought. Thought I'd at least live to be twenty-one.

The moment of peace stretched to a lifetime. In that second when the electricity, the dark whispers, and the blistering light had vanished Klaw-ful had been wrenched fully from the mindless place of battle. He was back in his body, left starkly surrounded by his own painful memories.

Mother Karikon. The islands of his home. The war. The trap. The perdition he'd lived since his capture. Then the water filled his mind once more. The waves. He could smell it. Salt. Baking sand. The light. The scorching light was Yudiah. Queen of the Moons of Etheria.

And overhead. Mother Karikon be praised…that blue eternity above him, traced with ivory softness, that was the sky! The sky! There was sky overhead again.

The child lived, crouched atop his chest. Hair like gold. Eyes like drops of clear water from the Bay of Home, between Karikon and the Little Sister Islands, where Klaw-ful had been taught to swim.

"Who?" He breathed, ragged and overcome, "Who are you?"

The boy did not answer, he was being electrocuted with enough voltage to stun a Karikoni yet it had no clear effect. He was struggling with an invisible force to wrest control of his hand back. A blot of darkness leapt away from him, hissing in the daylight, to vanish like a heat mirage. The boy blew a raspberry after it, laughing triumphantly.

Outside after so long with sand, gritty little grains of wonderful sand, getting inside his shell. With light, too bright but so warm, filling him with a heat he'd forgotten existed. With the sound of the sea in his head once more.

The tide. The Karikoni believed their dead lived on it that sound, calling to the living without cessation.

All of this passed in a moment and came to an end at a little noise of surprise from the child. The boy squinted, his cheeks puffed up, and, hugely for his small size, he burped. His blue eyes seemed to glow momentarily and he stretched his arms with a pleased 'mmmf'. He noticed Klaw-ful staring at him.

"Hi?" the boy said. He sounded unhurt. All that electricity and not a sign of anything wrong with him.

"What..." Klawful heard himself reply. The boy frowned and cocked his head. But a moment later, the boy raised a hand and waved.

Raised voices drew his eye to the viewing box of the arena he was trapped in and his mind went sour with hate. Trapjaw. Then his instincts flared and he plucked the boy off his shell with his hand, disregarding his squeal of surprise. Klaw-ful struggled to his knees. So tired. So much weaker than he'd been once.

He had to kill the child to survive. He had to. But the tide was in his head and with every push and pull of water it began to soothe him. The saltwater washed out his terror and rushed in with a reminder.

The boy had spared his life.

"Kill him! Go on you stupid monster! Kill him!"

"Trap-jaaaaaaw…" he rumbled. He'd kill. He'd kill most certainly. He summoned his strength and roared. He found his feet, revived by the warming sand underneath them. The world shook as he walked and he reached out towards the viewing box with his claw. The boy was yelling in his hand, hair flying in every direction as Klaw-ful's arm swung at his side.

Klaw-ful's nerves flared with pain as the shock collar buzzed to life. His claw, numb and alien on his arm, smashed aside stones like wooden blocks.

Inside the viewing box Maurice tackled Lonnie to the ground with one arm and Commander Serket with the other, shielding them with his armored body. The man grunted softly as a large piece of rubble clanged on his right pauldron, warping it badly. Lonnie was staring into the open sky, trying to figure out just what in the world was happening.

With a heavy scrape and sonorous groan of effort, she watched the Karikoni brace its fist on the edge of the destroyed box. It's fingers uncurled and something flopped out of it.

A little voice coughed amongst the dust and crumbling stone.

"Adam?" She asked, not quite believing it. Adam was pulp. He had to be. But the hearty sneeze she heard sounded an awful lot like it had come from a ten-year-old boy. She slid out from under the pile of Scorpioni.

"Boss?" Adam stepped out of the dust cloud, rubbing at an eye like he'd just woken up from a long nap. He put his hood up against a few pebble-sized bits of sandstone and in the shadow of his hood, Lonnie could have sworn she saw his eyes glowing a bright, lightning-blue.

"You…might be the luckiest kid in the world," she said, snapping out of her trance she rushed to him. He was totally unharmed except for a few bits of rock and sand dusting his cheeks. He smiled at her as she fussed over him.

"Catra?" He asked. Lonnie coughed a laugh as more dust got in her mouth.

"No, you little troublemaker, she's not…not…oh, wow." A sea breeze drifted in and scattered the last of the dust to reveal the scene of carnage. The Karikoni was alive, wheezing ponderously and holding itself up by hand and claw dug in the arena stands and partly into the viewing box. Octavia's soldiers were racing down into the arena itself, setting up a respectable semi-circle to pen the big creature in.

"Guess you won, kid," Lonnie said, joy bubbling up in her chest, "you won!"

"No," Trapjaw growled as he pulled himself up. He was bruised all over but nothing looked broken. They'd all gotten off easy, Adam most of all, and the Warden seemed even more ready for blood than before. "No. My fighter's still in it! Watch!" He lifted the remote and pressed the button.

"Don't!" Lonnie yelled. "It's still holding onto the stone!" The Karikoni shuddered in agony and a small earthquake rocked Lonnie off her feet. She barked as her hip smashed into a carven seat and could only reach out vainly as Adam tumbled away.

Trapjaw fell and the remote skittered across the sandstone, bumping into Adam's side. Naturally curious, he picked it up and squinted at it thoughtfully. Trapjaw was up and snarling, snatching Adam's smaller hand in his own, Adam warped himself around the blue fore-arm, eyes flashing.

"No!" He clung to the big man's arm, dangling in the air and coveting the remote. "Mine!"

"Fine, I'll finish this myself!" Trapjaw reared his arm back, ready to flatten the boy against the nearest stone wall. Lonnie grasped a promising piece of sandstone and hucked it through the air. It smashed into Trapjaw's knee and toppled him like a tower.

Lonnie grinned and turned over with a pained twinge in her hip. Serket was settling Maurice into a chair, minding his injured shoulder and sent Lonnie a stern look..

"Structural integrity compromised, ma'am," Lonnie said, smiling nervously, "we should get clear, huh?"

"Adam's getting a head start," Serket sighed, matronly lines of stress appearing on her face. Lonnie turned and found the boy in question sliding down the smooth surface of the Karikoni's claw, then down it's broad back.

"Uf!" Adam hit the sand a little harder than he meant to and his tailbone took the punishment. Strange. He'd felt invincible a moment before. He distracted himself at once with the strange contraption he'd 'borrowed'. He followed his instincts and pressed the big red button. The red warrior squawked and Adam gasped in horror.

"Ah! Sssss-orry!"

"Please….stop..." responded the red warrior, shifting in place against the arena wall. The stone under his claw gave way, collapsing a whole stand of rubble into the hollow inner-workings. Adam was so entranced by the destruction he wasn't prepared when strong hands clasped around his own.

"Hold still," the squid woman growled in his ear, "I'm helping you out here, kid. See?" She twisted the dial. "Give it more juice and…" she jabbed her thumb over his own, the red warrior wailed.

"Stop!" Adam struggled, she was so strong he couldn't budge.

"Oh, don't you worry," she twisted the dial all the way and let him go, Adam spun and fumbled in surprise, "this part you do yourself." Adam rose carefully, backing away with a little growl deep in his throat. The one-eyed woman pointed at the red warrior.

"Ah?" She drew a thumb across her throat. Adam gulped and turned to look at the helpless creature. He gasped when he saw the picture on his back.

The rounded shell featured the carven image of a mighty sword. Almost like his own. Blue-steel but with a gold hand and a sapphire set into the hilt. It was flanked by spears and encircled with a line of gold.

It comforted him somehow. Made him think of a time when he'd felt safe and secure. The image vanished as the warrior turned in place, resting heavily against the crumbling wall of the arena. Yellow eyes beheld him and snapped to the remote in his hand. They trembled in fear then went still and the warrior turned his face towards the sea.

His filmy eyelids shut and Adam could tell he was listening to waves.

"Listen good," the one-eyed woman said, she was right behind him now, "I got orders to keep this all on the right track. I follow orders. I'm a good soldier." She knelt, hissing in his ear. "So…take that remote. Press this shiny, red button and get it over with." She made a guttering noise of anger in her chest. "Plenty of time for me to get payback when this is over." Adam slunk away from her with a feral hiss.

"Adam!" Lonnie's voice called down. She was poised at the crumbled edge of the viewing box. Her face was twisted in pain as she clutched at her hip. "Do it." She nodded. "Go on."

"Kill him, runt," the squid-lady snarled, "so we can all get on with our lives." Kill. All they wanted from him was to kill.

"Do it," Lonnie looked agonized by her hip as she spoke, "do it and you get to see Catra again." She drew a thumb along her neck. "Then Catra. Ok?" Adam paused.

The red warrior's eyes opened and he groaned a little as he let the daylight bathe his face. His hand dug into the sand, making a fist around it. The Other One spoke up weakly from his mind.

Do…it…

Adam raised the remote. Cocked his arm back and hurled it against the arena wall. The little snap of it shattering filled the silent air. The red warrior blinked at him.

Klaw-ful was unsure if he was dead or dreaming or if any of this wasn't some hallucination he was having, still trapped down in the dark cell.

The boy held his life in hand and shattered the remote. After everything he'd done. The boy had chosen mercy. Twice. In the Yudiah's light Klaw-ful saw him, such a little thing, with tears glistening on his cheeks. The boy sniffled.

"No," he said, voice cracking. He growled at himself.

"Just some little kid," the Force Captain looming over him said, "just some scared little kid. Crying like a baby. Go on, kid, cry. See if I care." A ripple of cruel laughter followed Klaw-ful into a black wave of unconsciousness.

"No…" Klaw-ful moaned quietly, "no."
"My son?" A deep, soothing timbre spoke above him. Klaw-ful's eyes opened. The sky was dark. A moonless hour when nothing lit the sea or the shores of the Karikoni Islands. Still his mother's ivory shell was incandescent. The mural on her chest was a huge tidal wave. In the wave her family- his family-rode the rising water. Never being submerged, never being scattered. Those who rise with the wave do not sink beneath it.

"Mama?" Klaw-ful looked beyond her. The beach before him was familiar. The palm trees. The little rise in the land where white sand gave way to green underbrush. A wind from the ocean, clean and cool, rustled the dark green landscape. The tide was there behind it all, breaking and calling out to him.

There were burial mounds around them. Shattered spears, twice the height of a tall man lay at each. They were all empty. The bodies of their warriors had been lost in the sea. Klaw-ful stared at the nearest one and in his mind he saw a Karikoni with a dark-blue shell and yellow eyes like his own. His father. He was in a memory. The night they'd held a funeral for his father.

"Klaw-ful," Karikissa said to her son, "you were crying." His mother.

"No," his voice was small, youthful, "I wasn't!" He'd been so ashamed for letting her see him cry that night. His mother was their war-leader. His father had been called The Guardian for his strength. She was gone too now. Taken from him by the Horde years later. But she'd been so strong and it had seemed impossible.

"You were." Her voice was so kind. He'd missed it.

"Warriors don't cry!"

"Klaw-ful," she hugged him. She was the size of the entire world, cradling him against her. "Never say that. Warriors cry. They cry for others." The memory evaporated when a sharp circle of electricity pressed into his belly and pushed hard. He keened at the touch.

"He's still alive," a voice grumbled through helmet-speakers.

Klawful blinked and found the world as he'd left it. Horde Troopers surrounded him, started chattering about how and in what way they should chain him up. The ruined arena in daylight. The stalking fear of being taken back into the dark.

Beyond him, a Sigh woman with one eye barked at the boy-child.

"Put 'em on," she snapped, holding out a pair of small handcuffs, "don't even give me an excuse, kid."

"No!" The boy's voice was defiant. Petulant. Klaw-ful remembered being that brave once upon a time.

"What a let-down," a nearby soldier grumped, "they're both alive. What happens now?"

Alive. He thought. Yes. I'm alive. And the sea is near. He tried to shift and two more shock-staffs joined the first in paralyzing him. As he faded again he heard a Trooper chuckle.

"This guy was so big and bad way back when? Please. He's nothing." Klaw-ful blacked out.

Above the pit Lonnie limped out of the viewing box, sighing dramatically when she found the nearest staircase buckling under the shifting weight of the crumbling arena wall.

"Ah," Serket groaned, "there goes five centuries of history…well, I did want this here. This is my fault. Maurice, don't try to stand on your own, dear, I won't give you a medal for it."

Octavia's crew had quickly taken over. On the far side of the arena, Trapjaw was being helped by his handful of guards, swearing up-and-down to kill Adam himself.

"This boy is always making friends," Lonnie groaned, "I gotta get down there."

"Lonnie…be careful."

"Heh," she cringed as she moved, "bit late for that." She began to make her way the long way round, trying to figure out how exactly she'd make it into the arena itself. Octavia was shouting at Adam and Lonnie moved quicker, despite how it hurt her hip. "Hang on, Adam, you're not in this alone…"

"Last chance," the one-eyed woman growled, she dropped the shiny cuffs at his feet, "put 'em on and sit down." Adam picked up the cuffs and hawked loudly. He spat and a thin string of saliva shot out of his mouth and swung down onto his chin.

"Aw!" he whined in disappointment. He wiped it off and rubbed it on the cuffs, then hurled them away. "Nyeh!" The woman's face broke into a sharp-toothed smile and Adam remembered he was surrounded.

Ooops, he thought. He squeaked as some tossed his sword onto the sand at his feet. The crowd around him laughed.

"What?" The woman chuckled. "Thought I'd make you fight without it?" Her eye glowed with menace. Adam scooped ups his weapon. "Let's get you tucked into a tiny grave, dead-boy." She straightened up sharply. "Lieutenant Dagda, how do you find the prisoner?"

"Force Captain Octavia, I find him hostile," an armored woman said, "uncooperative and a danger to Horde personnel. I recommend immediate physical restraint, ma'am."

"Didn't ask for your suggestion, soldier," Octavia said, "physical restraint might lead to certain accidents." She stepped forward, cracking her knuckles, her tentacles whipping the air around her. "I'll take this one myself."

"Kill him, Cap!"

"You're in for it now, kid." The soldiers pressed in, pinning the two combatants against the wall of rubble.

"I got him!" A reedy voice whined. "I got him, cap, I got a score to settle!" The battalion groaned collectively. Mantenna emerged. "This brat threw me down a flight of stairs!"

"Get out of here, moron," the Lieutenant barked. Octavia rolled her eye.

"No," she shrugged, "go ahead. It'll look better on a report anyway." Mantenna rubbed his palms together eagerly, disturbing, bulging mustard-yellow eyeballs focusing on Adam.

"Ew!" Adam said, backing away.

"Kid's got standards," Octavia chuckled. Mantenna closed in and Adam felt the world turn fuzzy. He must've been too thirsty or tired, everything seemed slower. Then it all seemed floaty.

"Wait what the…"

"Oh, jeez, his eyes are…moving!"

"Yes!" Mantenna cackled, reaching his hands out for the hypnotized child, "Behold my powers. Surprised aren't you? Well since nobody talks to me no one knows my devious, befuddling mind control ray! When I move my eyes like-"

"The single," a soldier interreputed, "nastiest thing I've ever seen in my…yeah, I'm gonna hurl."

"Please, dude, stop doing this!" Mantenna's teeth set in a furious, humiliated sneer.

Adam swung his sword or that was the the ground and sky decided to change places suddenly and he fumbled. It was like his hands were on backwards.

"Come here, kiddo," the spindly, bug-eyed thing hissed, "gonna make you regret ever coming to the Fright Zone!" Adam swung again, blearly seeing the world in a huge swathes of color. He slumped to the ground, mind like cotton, and stared towards a long hill of red.

"Ah!" he called out for help. "Ah?"

Klaw-ful stirred and saw a lone child trapped on all sides. His own captors had turned. Slavering sharks smelling blood in the water and ready to frenzy. The boy was their prey. The boy who spared his life. Who'd cried over his pain. He recalled the lesson his mother taught him with sudden clarity.

Warriors cry for others. They feel for others. Fight for others.

"Stupid kid," one of the soldiers sighed, "its what he gets for trying to fight everybody all alone."

"No," Klaw-ful rumbled. They turned, shock-staffs swinging into place, a moment too late. A sweep of his arm sent them sprawling. "He...is...not." The crowd of soldiers around the boy began to whirl at the commotion, Klaw-ful rose, surging with new purpose. He was weak. Diminished. But he was Karikoni and that meant he was strong, strong, strong.

The odd soldier with the four legs turned his bulging eyes upwards as the shadow of Klaw-ful's claw overtook him. The razor spines glinted, the soldier tripped backing away and smacked his head on a piece of masonry. His bulging eyes crossed as he fell unconscious.

"Little ones," Klaw-ful rumbled, rising slowly to his feet, his claw and hand swept out to pull his great weight upwards. He braced against the wall behind him. "Tiny...little ones...tiny Horde troopers like black bugs in the sand…"

They were entranced by his revival and too shocked to attack. Klaw-ful rumbled a deep laugh from his chest, a watery noise like an sea-mine exploding. They were too young to remember when Karikoni ruled waves and terrorized their comrades.

"Have you ever...fought…" he breathed heavily, "a Karikoni?" They shuffled into place slowly, carefully. Uncertainty was visible in their body language. "No?...I...will...teach you!"

He hurled himself forward like a breaching whale and the Troopers ran screaming in every direction.

"Whoa!" Adam took a single step back as the red warrior struck. "Ohhhh!" He somersaulted as the red warrior crashed onto the ground. It was like an earthquake! Then the warrior began to fight.

Every movement sent people running for cover, or if they were too slow sailing through the air. Every part of his body was a weapon. Claw, hand, and swinging tail. Like the Other One. Every twitch was an attack. Spears bent on his hard shell, joints protected by how he lay prone. Zaps of electricity coruscated harmlessly off the red surface.

It was a dervish of combat. Spinning in a circle, roaring with pride at every strike. Adam looked around for Lonnie and spotted her up in the stands, looking gobsmacked. He called out to her.

"Lonn-eeeeeeee!" Something slimy and thick twisted around his ankle and pulled him across the ground. 'Octavia', the squid-woman with one eye.

"You think I forgot about you," she said, "I'm gonna pop your head right off your shoulders!" Adam gave up scrabbling for purchase and twisted in place, clenching his teeth as sand got up under his tunic, into his shirt, and down his pants.

Easily. Absolutely. Most certainly. The worst day of his life.

Octavia whipped her tentacle, flipping him onto his belly again and slamming him once into the ground. The wind left him in a wheeze.

"Stupid kid," Octavia said, "just like her. She took my eye. You took my pride. Not anymore. Not anymore!" She lifted him off the ground and wrapped his other limbs up. She was going to pull him to pieces if he didn't do something.

He had no sword. No help. The red warrior was too distracted fighting all the soldiers…he had to save himself. He flexed his right hand and gasped as it touched the hilt of the knife on his thigh. He grabbed it and pulled. Octavia shrieked, green blood dripped off the tentacle unraveling from his waist.

"You brat!" It let him go to slap him like a switch across the face. Tears sprang from his eyes and he sobbed twice, overcome by the pain, he let his weapon slip from his grasp. The cut tendril wrapped around his throat and Octavia dragged him close. Her eye cut dangerously at him.

Eye! He thought. A weakness like the Other One had shown him! He snapped his free hand out at her face. He gave a strangled yelp as she caught his hand in her own and squeezed it hard.

"Nice try," she chuckled, "but I learn from my mistakes, kid. You and that fur-bag friend of yours have caused me no end of grief. Around here people come after you when you look weak...I'm not letting my soldiers get disrespected. anymore!"

Adam gagged and gasped as the tentacle constricted around his throat. Lonnie hadn't prepared him for this. He couldn't fight like her or the blonde-haired warrior or any of them! He wasn't strong enough. All he knew how to do was hide and run and hiss. The smell of Octavia's blood filled his nose. If they didn't want him as a warrior he'd fight like a little monster.

"I felt that thing here," Octavia hissed, "that whatever it was in Horde Square. That thing in my head. You did that didn't you?" She was practically shouting through her teeth. "You did that to me! To my troops!"

Adam, as if nodding, bobbed his head in place then sunk his teeth into her tentacle right where he cut her. She let go of his hand to grab his whole head. He struck out and winced as he poked the rubbery orb of her eye with his pointer finger

Octavia bellowed so loud he thought he'd go deaf. Her tentacles constricted around him, threatening to break his bones.

"…h-e-l-p…" he rasped. A shadow fell over them and slammed Octavia to the ground. Lonnie rolled over teeth tight with pain, both hands grasping at her injured hip. Adam was free, hacking loudly and gasping for air.

Octavia somersaulted, still blind, and tackled Lonnie to the sand. She pressed her whole weight down and grasped her head between her powerful hands. Adam stumbled to his feet, rushing over with a rasping growl.

The soldiers were grappling viciously, Lonnie clawed at Octavia's hands and spat threats through her clenched teeth. Octavia's tentacles were slithering back to life, preparing to strike down on her. Adam grabbed Octavia's black tank-top at the shoulder and she turned her face toward him.

He punched once, his hand throbbed and he yelped. Octavia laughed mockingly at the impact. He punched again, hissing when he bruised his knuckles.

"You punch like a little baby, kid!"

Lonnie's trapped right hand flicked the tip of his boot twice.

"Rawr!" He stepped back and kicked the big woman in the face once, twice, and then a third time. His leg hurt too but he decided kicking hurt less than punching.

When he taught someone how to fight, that would be lesson one.

"I'll…killlll…kill…" Octavia dribbled several serrated teeth and then her body gave out. She slumped on top of Lonnie, drawing a moan of discomfort from her. Adam's boss wriggled free, covered in dust, sweat, and not a little green blood.

"Sand Valley Shock Troop Regiment," she huffed at him, "you save a few of King Micah's Rebels for me, little man?" Adam lunged at her, buried his face in her shoulder and squeezed her tight.

"Boss!" He squeaked with joy. "Thhhh-ank you!"

"Ok," Lonnie pushed him back gently after a moment, "enough of that." A trumpeting wail drew their attention. The world shook as the Karikoni fell backwards into the South-western section of the arena and sent a dozen huge cracks ripping through the architecture.

Octavia's veterans closed in armed with their shock-staffs. The dozen or so soldiers left standing attacked with a will, jabbing the Karikoni viciously in his unprotected joints.

Adam growled and raced at them, feeling Lonnie's hand try and fail to snatch the back of his shirt.

"Adam, get back here!"

The red warrior had helped him. Like Lonnie had. Like Teela had. Like Catra had. He was sick of letting other people save him and not being able to do anything when they needed help. He could fight, even if he didn't like it. He'd fight if it would help.

If it was to help he'd act even if he was scared.

He charged the nearest trooper, covered head to heel in black armor, and dug his heels into the sand when the veteran soldier spun in place, alerted, and jabbed the staff straight at him. Adam whuffed as it hit his thin chest and pressed him to the ground.

Adam grit his teeth as the trooper loomed like a great crow, hands wrapped around the staff pinning him. Green light sparked and volts entered his body...and he felt something familiar. The rushing sensation of power...like the times when he'd called out the Other One.

He had no better ideas, he raised his voice and yelled!

"By the Power of Grayskull!"

Lonnie watched all this in a horrified daze. Adam wasn't getting lucky again. The tiny body was tensed on the ground, bathed in the green light of the shock-staff. The soldier pressed home harder until the crackling energy started fading. Lonnie remembered, through concussed daze, something similar happening in Horde Square.

"But that was the big guy," she said to herself, as if that had been an established rule, "he needs the sword! Right?"

The shock-staff hissed as it's battery drained completely and the soldier took a cautious step back, his confidence flagging. Adam's hands sprang up to grasped the end of the staff. The soldier's grip tightened instinctively.

Supine, Adam jerked the weapon once. Lonnie was not imagining it this time. His eyes were glowing a radioactive blue. The staff levered and a grown man swung into the air like a wet towel before slamming headfirst into a heap.

Lonnie pinched herself on the arm hard enough to leave a bruise and found herself still wide-awake. Adam sat up, looked at his hands with wonder and then a stony determination.

He hopped to his feet and rushed the next soldier, pushing at her leg, and she went off her feet for a full two yards before landing. When she sat up, groping for the knife in her boot, Adam pounced on her and slammed her helmet onto the ground. She made an 'unf!' sound and went still.

"Eyes up! Hostile coming in!" The nine remaining troopers turned from the Karikoni and charged as one. The giant roared at the chance and swept aside six with his claw. The last three rushed Adam with a war cry intent on slaying at least one foe.

They picked the wrong target as Lonnie observed.

The first trooper lunged to tackle the boy. He slammed into the little body like Adam was a steel beam. He started clutching as his right shoulder, static speakers crackling with howls of pain. Adam hadn't budge an inch and when threw a quick jab at the trooper's head the plexiglass visor shattered as the metal dented inward beneath a tiny knuckle.

A metal staff bashed at Adam's temple and bent into a L-shape. The last two troopers stepped back, looking between him and the broken weapon. Adam locked eyes with them and gave a puppy-dog growl. The troopers shared a look.

"Ok, y'know what? Screw this." They turned and bolted for the farthest stairwell.

Adam blew a raspberry after them and looked around for his next opponent. Slowly, his shoulders untensed as he realized, against all the odds, he was the last one standing. He shot a look at Lonnie and pointed at himself.

"Ah?"

"Yeah," Lonnie snickered, loopy with disbelief, "way to go, Adam." His face split into a wide grin and he pounded both fists on his chest, puffing himself up proudly.

"Ah, Boss!" He raced over reaching out to scoop her up with his absurd strength.

"Hey, no-no, no using your magic on me!" It was a moot point. When he tried to lift her she barely budged and when he stared at his hands again, his eyes were quite a normal, non-glowing, shade of cornflower blue. "Sorry, kid, I think you're out of juice."

"Awwwwww!"

"Some people would be happy with the temporary invulnerability and super-strength but not you, huh?" She sighed and rubbed at her aching hip. "Guess that's how you survived the crash earlier. Juiced up by that shock collar." She found herself breaking into relieved laughter. "You little magic weirdo."

Lonnie snatched him into her arms.

"Hey!" Adam laughed, growling playfully as she noggied his blonde scalp, he wriggled against her grip but couldn't break away. Not that he was trying very hard.

"Come on," she teased, "you can just pick me up and throw me, right? Let's go, muscles, let's see some magic." Adam's giggling brought more laughter out of her and, surrounded by no-one conscious enough to see, she left herself squeeze him in a tight hug.

"That…that was incredible. That was awesome, Adam!" She laughed into his hair. "I'm so proud of you!"

"Ah?" Adam smiled. "P-pprrrow-dah?"

"You'll get it," the full weight of their victory hit her and her face split with a smile, "you'll get it…you'll have all the time in the world to get it." The earth trembled and a groan of effort echoed out into the sky.

The Karikoni moved like a collapsing building. He crawled away from the wall, mindful of his defeated foes on the ground, and dragged his bulk to the broken wall where he'd first crushed the viewing box. Warden Trapjaw was long gone and Lonnie could see no one else around.

The giant didn't pay them any mind. Patiently, methodically it shoved large stones out of the way until it could find a few sturdy spots of arena to scale. Lonnie was transfixed by the play of its segmented armor, the engravings twinkling in the light, and the sheer vertigo of seeing some so large move vertically. It crawled over the wall and fell to the ground outside with another ground-quaking thud.

"Well…I guess you win by default?" Lonnie said. Adam helped her stand and they crossed to the seaward gate. Outside they heard, and felt, the Karikoni taking slow, ponderous steps along the sand. Through the double-portcullis they watched it step gingerly towards the shore.

"This is the first time he's been outside in like thirty years. What do you think is going through his head?" Adam made a few thoughtful faces and mimed eating. Lonnie snorted. "Yeah. Probably." The Karikoni became rooted to the spot, staring at the sea, his giant red body standing out starkly against the vast green waters.

The size of the Karikoni, made Lonnie realize how vast the sea was. She wondered if anybody would ever find him again when he submerged. He could go anywhere once he made it.

"Come on," she said to herself, getting second-hand anxiety, "don't just stand there, idiot, go if you're going. Go!" The indecision was killing her. "Are you dizzy or something?"

"I have a feeling like we should probably try to stop him," Commander Serket stepped out of the darkness of the inner arena, Maurice leaning on her side. "But I also do quite enjoy living." She watched the Karikoni. "Overwhelmed by the choice. Maybe he's afraid this is all a dream?"

"Ah!" The three adults looked at the child. Adam closed his eyes and cocked one his ears to the side. Then nodded at the Karikoni.

"Listening to the waves." Lonnie said and, for a moment, she closed her eyes and did so as well. It was peaceful. It was a sound older than the Horde. Older than the Scorpioni who built the arena. The waves had hushed up and down the sand long before Lonnie or Adam or anybody she knew was born. It made her feel small but not in a bad way.

Adam was small too. And he'd accomplished the impossible.

A whine from the north grew into the air a moment later.

"Skiff," Lonnie said.

"Catra?" Adam asked hopefully.

The Karikoni came alive and stumbled forward, a desperate huff rippling out from him as he ran drunkenly for the waterline. The skiff roared into view and closed the distance in a moment. The Karikoni roared in defiance and turned, one claw raised to smash the vehicle into scrap metal.

Then he froze once more. Lonnie was confused until she saw, almost lost against his red shell, the scarlet touch of magic.

"Shadow Weaver," Serket breathed for all three of them. Adam jolted and Lonnie held him still.

"Lonnie!"

"You can't help him," she said, turning a stern eye on him, avoiding the sight, but not the sound, of the Karikoni collapsing to the beach outside. It was like a dynamite charge going off. It sent tremor out that collapsed a section of the arena wall and covered the world in a dust cloud.

The skiff docked. Catra, without thinking about anything or anyone hopped off the deck and began marching towards the exit. A deck-officer intercepted her.

"Hang on, Cap," she said, "you need to de-brief-" Catra grabbed the front of her uniform and hurled her sideways into a pyramid of oil-drums. She wasn't thinking about the consequences. Scorpia was apologizing to everyone she shoved through a few steps behind her.

An armored figure barred her exit. A Scorpioni in full red-plate armor. Catra scowled.

"Move." She unsheathed her claws when she was not obeyed.

"Wait!" Scorpia ran up, puting herself between them. "Akil? What are you-"

"The Commander sent me, Force Captain, the boy lives," the man said, "you are wanted in Hordak's throne room immediately, Force Captain Catra. If you'd like I can escort…"

Catra was already running on all began to jog after her.

The journey was a blur of people cursing her as they leapt aside. Bots turning to observe as she loped past them. The day-moons winking from behind the stagnant skyline as she moved closer to the Tower of Lord Hordak. Her mind was one thought.

He's alive.

Her plan could still work. Would still work. She'd get her payback on Adora and her new friends. She'd conquer Etheria. She'd get whatever she wanted. And the little blonde booger was alive! Alive. She dug her claws into the concrete and stopped herself at the base of the Tower steps. She sighed and fixed her hair a little, made sure her mask was on right.

"Let me do the talking."

"Oh, wow, thank you," Scorpia wheezed, gulping loudly as she came up behind her. " I was really scared I was gonna have to start off. I have a stitch in my side that feels two miles long…"

They ascended the staircase neatly, arriving to find two Horde Marines guarding the doorway. After exchanging salutes the doors slid open and the Force Captains entered the throne room. It was packed tight with people and she heard Scorpia cry out in surprise at something off to the side.

Catra wasn't focusing on that, her eyes had zeroed in on a long ponytail of honey-blonde hair. Adam turned, looking curious as ever, and his eyes turned into a sparkling blue fireworks display when they landed on her.

"Catra!" He shouted, announcing her to the room. She fell into an easy smile. Adam rushed forward from the crowd. Or tried to.

"Catr-aack!" A chain yanked him back and Catra began to take in the scene around her. The little boy was collared with a metal ring, which acted like the hub of a five-spoke wheel of chains. The leads were gripped by a circle of Prison Troopers, braced and ready to keep the boy in one spot. Adam grunted and tugged at the leads.

The manacles on his wrist jangled in harmony with the ones on either ankles. Catra idly wondered why she wasn't surprised the Horde had child-sized restraints like that. With a glance at the empty throne she shoved aside the crowd and confronted the nearest of Adam's captors.

"Key," she snapped, "now."

"No way," the man said, voice shaking, "you weren't there! You didn't see what we saw! No chances with this little monster!"

"Ah!" Adam cried at the man, voice cracking with indignation. Catra's hand found the guard's throat and squeezed.

"I'm sorry," she laughed, "did I say 'now?' I meant to say 'now before I break your neck'. Sorry. Long skiff ride. Little tired." She shoved him backwards and looked around at his comrades, smiling when no-one dared challenge her.

The guard fumbled at his belt and practically tossed the keys at her. She let him go and made a shooing motion at the others. The chains rattled to the ground as they all stepped back.

Catra crouched down to be eye level with the boy. The closeness was working in her favor this time. Before, when everyone had seen a vulnerable child, it would've made them both look weak. Now the almost humid sense of caution in the air told her that showing off her easy connections with the kid would be permissible.

Like demonstrating that a crocodile won't bite you. And it gave her a chance to wink at him.

"Booger," she teased, "what'd you do while I was gone? Were you a well-behaved little berserker?" She got the collar off his neck, the manacles off his wrists and ankles. Adam squealed in delight and freed his hair from the ponytail, shaking it out to hang wildly down to his lower back.

He had a few extra pounds of weight on his face and stomach. His lips were cherry red and his eyes seemed livelier. Water. Food. A place to sleep. He looked like any snotty little rug-rat. So vulnerable and curious.

"Miss me?" She asked softly.

"Catra," he whispered, bursting with happiness.

"I knew you'd win, Adam, I never doubted for a second." She leaned in conspiratorially. "So where's the poor shmuck they made you fight? In the incinerator already?"

"Fight?" Adam cocked his head and then grinned. "Oh! Ah." He pointed behind her. Catra turned and made an embarrassing squeak of fear. She hadn't been paying attention to the room at all and now she saw where half the tension was coming from.

Huge yellow eyeballs looked down at her. A giant crab-lobster-man amalgamation towered over her and still had to duck its rounded head to avoid scraping at the huge cables crisscrossing below the archway. The green helix-lights cast its red shell a strange pale yellow at the armored curves. It was wearing a whole dungeon's worth of chains, each link the size of a hubcap.

Catra pointed at it and then at Adam. 'That?' she mouthed.

"Catra," Adam said pointing at her, then pointing at the giant monster, "Kl..klaaa…" Adam blushed shyly and shrugged at the creature, "sss-sorry. Kla-kla-awwww-off-ul."

"I...am…," the creature rumbled, "Klaw-ful." Catra laughed before she could stop herself.

"Like," she said, caught between terror and amusment, "like claw-awful?" She mimed a claw with her fingers and sputtered. "That's your name? Klaw-ful?"

He moved. His chains rattled cacophonously. The crowd around him surged back with cries of alarm as a claw several-times her size leveled an foot from her nose. The creature nodded once, yellow eyes daring her to make a joke.

"Klaw-ful," he thundered casually, "and...you...are...?"

"Catra!" Adam tweeted happily. Beaming at them both. Catra patted the side of the razor sharp appendage.

"Very nice to meet you," she said with a nervous smile, "but if you're here and Adam's here who won the fight?"

"A fair question."

Klaw-ful's black eye slits thinned and turned furiously towards the voice. Lord Hordak emerged from his lab at a brisk walk, Shadow Weaver trailed behind him to lead a parade of figures down into the crowded room.

She saw Warden Trapjaw, Octavia, supported by one of her Lieutenants, a white-haired woman who could only be Scorpia's mom, and limping to bring up the rear-

"Lonnie," Adam said, worry coloring his tiny voice, "Catra!" He tried to tug her forward by the hand but she held him firm. Danger made her ears go flat and her tail flick nervously. She had a sinking feeling the day wasn't quite over yet.

"My lord," she stepped forward and bowed politely, "we've completed our mission. A resounding success."

"I am not interested in that just now, Force Captain. Things have not gone according to plan today."

Crud. Crud. Crud. Crud-crud-crud!

"Sire?" Catra asked with a frozen smile. Hordak's glare held her to the spot for a moment, before they shifted around the room.

"We are the future of this world," he said, voice low as a lurking predator, "when I permit individuals to take greater part in the Horde…it is not a gift." He sat flush against the high back of his throne. "It is not a reward. Nor is it a privilege that comes with special dispensation." He turned to Shadow Weaver, standing tall and ominous at the base of the throne steps. "What were my orders, Shadow Weaver?"

"That the boy be tested and thus the question of his status in the Fright Zone resolved."

"And did this happen?"

"No, sire," Shadow Weaver seemed calm but Catra knew what roiled beneath her tone from experience, "it did not."

"Wait," Catra cut-in, "what are you talking about?" Shadow Weaver narrowed her eyes at her dangerously.

"Force Captain Catra," Hordak took over, "were you aware the boy had magic power of his own?" Catra pursed her lips and tried to come up with the best answer

"…yes?"

"Catra, now is a bad time to misspeak," Shadow Weaver's eyes flashed as she spoke, "did you know, prior to this, that Adam himself could exhibit traits that you ascribed to his bizarre Alter Ego?" Catra's lips peeled back in a disbelieving grin as she understood.

"The meathead? No, why?….wait," she turned to Adam, awe-struck, "you can do what the big guy does? Lightning and all that?" Her mind raced with the possibilities. The sheer potential.

"Obviously this is a surprise to her, my lord," Shadow Weaver said, "not itself a surprise considering Catra has no training in magical theory."

"Yeah," Catra waved her hand, still grinning, "yeah-yeah. You think I'm an idiot and you like to remind me. Can we get back to 'the ten-year-old I captured for us can do magic'?" Forgetting herself in her elation, she pinched gently at Adam's cheek to tease him. "Way to hold out on me, booger!"

"Ah," Adam chirped, giggling as he pulled away.

"Enough," they both gasped in unison at Hordak's voice, "in that case, Force Captain, you will remain silent until I say otherwise." Catra saluted.

"Sir, yes, sir." She was almost shaking with excitement. With luck, she'd be speaking to him a lot in the future. Her tail flickered over and batted the back of Adam's tunic at the thought. Future. He had a future.

"Warden," Hordak growled, Trapjaw stepped forward, body almost trembling with barely repressed rage, "going around my orders is no different than disobeying them. When I told you to find a suitable opponent, was your first choice the Karikoni?"

"I...am...Klaw-ful!" The voice rang like a bell through the room. "I am...righ here...tyrant!"

"You will be silent!" Shadow Weaver snapped, Catra pressed her teeth together out of reflex. "Lord Hordak will deal with you in a moment, prisoner." Red light flashed around the giant body and tore a wail of agony from him. The Karikoni's eyes filled with the kind of fear-weakened fury that Catra knew from personal experience.

Oh, really? You're gonna feel bad for that thing? Her hand reached out in the secrecy of the moment to rub softly at Adam's scalp. He's probably scared. This will relax me-him! I'm trying to make him feel better. I'm fine. Just…

"Catra," a little voice whispered, Adam grinned at her, "hi!" Just fine.

"Shhhh, booger," she pressed a finger to her lips, "shh."

"Warden," Hordak snapped, reconquering the room's attention, "I wish to know from you directly. Was your choice to send a prisoner I, myself, sentenced to a lifetime of solitary confinement to fight a child for his freedom a deliberate insult? A play at petty revenge? Or should I commit this choice, which insults my intelligence, confidence in my officers, and the strength of my rulings, to sheer poor judgment on your part?"

"Was this a malicious act," Shadow Weaver purred, "or an incompetent one, Warden?" There was a pause as Trapjaw ground his teeth audibly.

"Are you a traitor," Shadow Weaver prodded further, "or merely an imbecile?"

"I'm loyal!" The Warden insisted.

"Incompetence." Shadow Weaver floated forward a few feet, hand curling to cast her binding magic. "Say it, Warden."

"I was incompetent," Trapjaw's beady red eyes looked at some point on the floor with the intensity of a nuclear explosion.

"You will retain your position," Hordak growled, "on probation. Another infraction and you will lose your rank. And perhaps more. Wait silently for dismissal." Trapjaw bowed, Catra guessed, to hide the way his face contorted with anger.

"Commander," Hordak sneered at the white-haired woman, "former Commander Serket. What do you have to say regarding the incidents at the arena?"

"I had no idea that the fighter would be so dangerous or so very strong," Scorpia's mom clicked her heels together, looking unafraid, "I take responsibility for not insisting on a more secure location when that was made clear to me."

"Hmmm," Catra could've sworn Hordak face looked pained briefly, "I understand you prevented a fight between the Warden and the soldier who trained the boy?" Catra glared at Lonnie.

"Lonnie, you did what?!"

"Really," Lonnie growled, "right now, Catra?"

"Yes," Shadow Weaver's voice whipped the air, " right now, Catra?" Catra mimed zipping her mouth shut. Seething in her mind. If she messed this up and makes Adam get banished…

"It was a scuffle, sire, tensions were running rather high. I should've kept them separate to begin with. The fault on this is mine."

Catra glanced behind her, Scorpia had been quiet and she saw why now. The big Force Captain was chewing the end of one pincer from sheer nerves. It looked so weak. It made her angry to think how she'd been on the verge of a meltdown earlier.

She petted Adam's hair once more; calming herself with the action. The kid was a vulnerable spot. She'd made no secret that she wanted to use him for the war effort. People could take advantage of that if she wasn't careful.

"And how does one punish a retired Commander?" Shadow Weaver asked, with an inflection that insinuated she had several promising ideas.

"No," Hordak said curtly, "it is enough to hear it from her. Serket," Hordak said, "I am disappointed you could not handle this better. But considering that the prisoners did not escape and there were no fatalities I leave the matter here."

'No fatalities'. Catra looked at the little boy under her hand. He had started digging carefully in one jug-handle ear, eyes squinting as he worked an uncooperative ball of wax.

"I live to serve, my lord," Serket bowed with a regal sweep of her arm, "my bodyguard Maurice acted very bravely today, sire, if I could recommend-"

"Later," Hordak waved a hand, teeth already baring themselves at his next target, "Force Captain." Catra froze briefly at his icy tone but realized he wasn't calling on her.

Octavia pushed herself up to her feet. Catra winced at the way she wobbled in place. She looked like she'd been beaten half to bits.

"You failed to secure the arena," Hordak said, his anger taking on a soft quality that seemed somehow worse than a yell, "you failed to keep the prisoners in custody. You failed. Utterly."

"Yes, my lord," Octavia croaked out.

"I have no need of a Force Captain who can't do what is required of her." Catra's stomach flipped. The room drew in a quiet breath together.

"…it…has been an honor to serve, my lord." Octavia's voice was rough already and now emotion threatened to make it inaudible.

"You will clean out your quarters today," Hordak said, "and then you will report to Central Processing for reassignment to a barracks in the general infantry. At Trooper rank."

"I thank you," Octavia said stoically, "I thank you for the honor to serve in the Horde."

"My lord," Lieutenant Dagda rushed forward, throwing herself on her knees, "please, sire, you have no better Force Captain! I failed in my duties today as XO! Please, she's served you so long and-"

"Dagda!" Octavia thundered. "Get up! Get in line! How dare you talk out of turn. Your next Force Captain better have nothing but good things to say about you or I will hunt you down myself!"

Dagda reacted in perfect soldierly fashion, turning to salute her former leader sharply. In her eyes, Catra saw not fear or anger, but a deep sense of longing. A shimmer of pride. A little fading light as her last hope died.

"Let me explain something to you, Lieutenant!" Octavia snarled, grabbing the woman by her shoulder and wrenching her in close. An uncomfortable tension filled the room as the former Force Captain dressed her XO down at an inaudible hiss.

Inaudible to most save for Catra.

"Cap," her sensitive ears heard the Lieutenant's agonized whisper, "we need you…"

"Keep them together," Octavia whispered back, "the family is all that matters. I forgot that today and this is what happens. None of us are safe. We're all expendable. We're all we got. Make sure those idiots in the infirmary don't get the news last." She barked suddenly. "And you better believe I mean it, mudsucker!" She saluted Lord Hordak. "I respectfully suggest the detachment remain as it is and that Lieutenant Dagda be considered for promotion." Dagda's hand rose to her forehead in salute, pausing briefly to clench at her heart.

"Hardly your place to suggest-" Shadow Weaver began.

"Shadow Weaver," Hordak's voice was less angry, more stern, "enough. Octavia, I see no reason why you should concern yourself with my decisions. If I intended to disband the unit I would've said so. I may still. If I choose. That is not your concern anymore." Hordak considered her. "You are dismissed."

Octavia's sigh was full of relief. As she made it the doors, Hordak spoke up abruptly.

"Octavia, what is the Horde?"

"The Horde," Octavia turned, back straight with pride, "is order." Octavia left with her head held high.

There was a pall in the air as Hordak stared after the departed Captain then he drew himself up, the unreadable, distant Lord of the Fright Zone once again. He faced the Karikoni. Klaw-ful met him eye-to-eye. The hatred crackling between them was almost visible. A part of Catra wondered if this was how it looked when she met Adora face-to-face.

Another part of her wondered if it was even worse.

"I swore you'd never see daylight again," Hordak said, "you'd never know the smell of the sea or the touch of the sand. I declared that you, Klaw-ful, would wither and die over the years, not in battle. Not the warrior's death I know you craved." He scowled. "And yet…I also gave my word the victor of this fight would go free."

"Oh," Scorpia breathed behind them, "oh no. No."

"I keep my word," Hordak said, "and this fight is not yet resolved."

"My lord!" Catra stepped forward, mind racing for some solution. Adam made an inquisitive noise next to her still totally oblivious to the fate that was being woven for him. "Please, Adam has powers! Potential! Hasn't he proven he's capable?"

"For one to succeed," Hordak snapped, "another must fail. This is an immutable law of nature, Force Captain, now be silent. Or I shall revoke your commission as well?" He glared at his ancient enemy. "Well, old foe? Dare you seize the chance to be free? Have you learned humility under the scourge of my power?"

"I...will not!" Klaw-ful thundered brokenly.

"Then I imagine the boy will have to kill you," Hordak mused, "if you insist on defying." Hordak sat back in his chair. "Surely life is precious to you? Or do you enjoy your accommodations so much?"

Klawful's next retort died in his throat and the giant warrior's yellow eyes suddenly filled with unseen outcomes. Catra watched, moving unconsciously between Adam and the Karikoni, as he reached some resolve. With a stern, unwavering countenance he shuffled about to face her, his chains rattling hugely.

"Force Captain," Hordak's voice cut her to the heart, "step aside and let this happen. I will not be defied a moment longer."

Catra couldn't look Adam in the face or offer him parting words. Her tail dipped briefly and wrapped around his hand for a moment as she stepped away.

Then, in her mind, she thought of him as already gone. He had to be. The choice Klawful had was too easy. She knew the choice she'd make, if it was her life on the line.

Klawful struggled forward and outstretched his hand, the huge spider-leg fingers moved until they were a few inches from Adam then two came together and pointed skyward. Adam gasped and then cheered loudly.

"What?" Catra said. She saw Adam, hopping up and down, spinning in a circle, blonde hair flagging and catching the dim light in little glints of dark-gold. The Karikoni shut out the world around him, watching the boy with a strange, inexplicable fondness. Lonnie about jumped into the air as she spun to face Hordak.

"He's giving up!"

"Giving up?" Hordak growled.

"That-that means, my lord," Lonnie saluted desperately, "that means he surrenders. Concedes the fight." Lonnie looked thunderstruck. "It means…Adam won."

"Klaw-ful," Horak said, teeth grinding, "is this true?" He frowned darkly at the chuffing laugh that billowed from the Karikoni's chest.

"I...cede...to the better...warrior."

"Do not make a rash decision," Hordak seethed, "I am not to be mocked."

"I...could...speak...of integrity," Klaw-ful's voice wavered and cracked as he spoke. Like Adam's, Catra realized, it had gone unused a very long time, "I could speak...of...honor...but I know...where I am...who you are…who I am."

He glared at Hordak with a thin hiss of disgust. His eyes crawled down to Shadow Weaver and turned like lighthouses over all the Horde soldiers in the room.

"The light...burned my eyes... " his gaze seemed to settle on Catra, "I was deep inside...the abyssal trench...that sunken place...that devours light...that forsakes belief for...survival!" He spat the word. "That place becomes...darker the deeper...you dive." He looked down at Adam, so very small compared to him. "Until the light on the water's surface...hurts your eyes...and you choose the depths…"

"Hmmmph," Shadow Weaver sounded bored, "very moving, prisoner, are you quite finished?"

"You…" his yellow eyes burned at her, "are a...coward...who fights...for nothing. Take me back. The reek of that cell...is fresh air...to the stench of weakness...in this room!"

Red lightning formed a coruscating cage around him and the Karikoni bent his whole body like a bow, roaring in pain.

"Shadow Weaver." Hordak said.

The magic stopped. The mage bowed low to Hordak.

"He could not be allowed to insult us further, my lord, forgive me."

"Warden," Hordak waved a hand at the sulking man, "take the prisoner back to his cell. For the rest of his life he will remain there."

"I!" Klaw-ful shouted, voice wheezing with pain, "Do not! Fear!" He turned a final defiant glare, shivering with nerve damage, on Hordak. "I...am strong! Stronger...than you!" He slumped forward, catching himself on his knees and his giant upper limbs. "I am...a warrior...of the...Karikoni…I! Choose! The surface!"

Catra saw the mural on his back. The sword there was, unmistakably, inspired by the same sword that had stolen Adora from her. She sneered at the giant fool, hating him in that moment. Reveling in his pain.

"Ah," Adam tried to step forward as soldiers prodded the giant out of the room with a dozen long spears. Catra snatched his shoulder and held him still with a little growl of admonishment.

"Don't," she whispered, "that idiot is no-one to cry over."

"Boy," Hordak said, dispersing the spell the Karikoni's exit had cast, "approach." Catra urged him forward, placing either hand on his shoulders. "Up." He gestured. Catra frowned and began to walk them towards the throne's steps. "Alone. Up, boy."

"U-up?"

"Go," Catra whispered, "I'm right here, ok?"

"O-k," Adam said, nervousness breaking through his voice. He climbed the steps slowly. One at a time.

Go. Up. Stay strong for one moment more.

The Other One was back, in the fullness of his strength, and Adam tried to take comfort in that. Catra was back too but no-one was letting them go away and be together somewhere less scary.

Adam was tired. He was achy from sleeping in that cold cell for so long. Days at most but…how long since he came to this strange place? It felt like he'd never been anywhere else. Like the old gray castle was simply a dream he'd had.

We'll be free soon. We'll find a way home. I swear it.

"Mmmm," Adam hummed uncertainly. But…Catra was here.

"You seem determined to remain alive," the Lord was saying, "and I am beginning to wonder what might befall my soldiers if I simply tried to order you executed here and now. Doubtless the roof would collapse."

"Um?" Adam knelt, one fist pressed knuckle-first to the ground, head ducked and eyes closed submissively. "My lord."

"Not yet," was the Lord's reply, "there is a final test for you. One that you cannot avoid. Submit or prove yourself unworthy." He reached into the shadows of his throne and withdrew something.

Adam gasped as the blue metal of his sword shone, managing to catch even the small lights of the throne room and mirror everything. He saw himself in the blade, slowly grinning, cheeks fuller and eyes more alive than he could remember them being when he lived alone. The sharp point tacked loudly against the stone dais and the lord leaned the hilt forward into easy reach of the small child.

"Take it," he breathed, "take it if you dare. Prove to me you're ready to submit." There was a startled movement behind Adam and the Lord turned blazing eyes on the crowd of people.

"If any of you move for that doorway," he roared, "you will die here and now! This child will not hold us in fear whatever his power." He turned back. "I am in control here, boy, always. Of everything. This sword. Your life. All of it is mine by right of strength and conquest. Take it. If you would have it back you must take it."

Take the sword. Let me set us free.

Adam hesitated. Something felt wrong about this. Why would they just give it back? What was the Lord saying?

It doesn't matter! Take the sword! Use the power!

His fingers fiddled with the bones of his tunic.

"Take it." The Lord dared.

Take it! The Other One pleaded.

Adam knew if he had his sword he'd be safe. No-one could bully him or shove him around or yell at him or anything. He'd be strong. Stronger than anybody. He could even keep Catra safe if he wanted to. His reflection smiled a little.

He missed it, that was true. It was like his tunic. He wouldn't ever really feel safe without it. And if the Lord was giving it to him…his fingers reached out, twitching to touch the metal once more and feel safe in a way no-one could take from him.

Lights moved in the reflection before he made contact. Gold and blue. Catra. Her eyes catching the light like his cub's always had. He glanced down at her face in the mirror of the blade's fuller. With the barest movement, and eyes swimming with concern, she gave him a clear but furtive shake of her head.

"No," he whispered to himself.

NO! She means to use you! To hurt you! Trust me, not her! You must trust me!

Catra had helped him so much.

She is a danger! They are all dangers! Only I am able to protect you!

Catra made him laugh.

The sword. Take it! I swear things will be different this time.

"Boy?" The Lord asked. "Adam. Take it or do not."

"Adam," Adam said to himself. Catra helped him remember his name. The Other One had always protected him. But Catra had done so much.

He winced with guilt at the way the Other One howled when his fingers curled back and he stepped away. He shook his head, setting his face seriously.

"No."

A gust of air sighed out of the watching crowd. The Lord laid Adam's sword across his lap and searched him carefully.

"You belong to the Horde now," he said after a moment, "and you will make yourself useful." He scowled. "Your...choice…to spare your foe's life is not a good start. But you are young." He glared. "You will learn." Adam nodded, hoping that was right.

"Force Captain Catra."

"My lord?" Adam smiled. Catra sounded happy.

"The boy is under your command. Everything he does reflects on you."

"The sword-"

"Is not part of this discussion."

"With your permission, my lord," the lady of shadows spoke up, I can begin investigating his magical properties at once."

"That is not part of this discussion either," he growled, "we have a war to win. As to this boy's place in it? For now he is a soldier. He will submit to our hierarchy and learn the ways of civilization."

"My lord?" Adam asked. He wilted a little under the red stare.

"Maybe you will be of use to me. Maybe not. For now, here are your first orders. Go.

And cause no more distractions under penalty of immediate punishment." The Lord rose from his seat, pointing back towards Catra. Adam turned and raced down the steps, stumbling a little, happy to be back with his protector.

What have you done?

The Other One's voice was lost in the din of the crowd leaving as the Lord waved his hand.

Catra's hand was on his shoulder leading him firmly through the crowd and before long they'd passed through the big square where he'd first met her and out into one of the tributary avenues.

What have you done…

He didn't have long to think about the Other One before a pair of red pincers had plucked him into the air and crushed him against a broad, black-uniformed chest.

"Thank-you-thank-you-thank-you for not being dead!"

"Geez, Scorpia, don't squish the poor kid."

"Hi, Scorpia!" Adam pressed himself into the hug, grinning broadly.

Catra watched the little reunion take place. Scorpia would barely put him down and when she finally did it was to embrace her mother. Serket seemed fine with that. The one-time Terror of the Rebellion laughed happily and embraced her daughter openly. Catra rolled her eyes...but she glanced at Adam a moment later...a smile touched her lips. The weird little boy was just happy to be around other people. A doofy smile on his face, a twinkle in his eyes just like-

Just like Adora. Her mind hissed venomously. Catra felt her mood sour at the thought. She wasn't thinking clearly and if she'd let her emotions overtake her during her mission and Hordak found out...she thought of Octavia's fate and a paranoid thought took root in her mind.

Hordak wasn't giving her permission to use him as a weapon, she realized, free of the pressure and excitement of the throne room. This had never been Adam's test alone.

It had been hers. And it still was.

Her skin crawled. When Adam tried to take her hand she pulled away, more sharply then she meant to.

"You," she forced a smile, "you don't need me to hold your hand right, booger? You're a big boy." She flexed an arm. "Tough, right?"

"Ah!" Adam flexed proudly, looking very smug.

"Well," she said, "a tough soldier like you must be eager to get your own bunk, huh?"

"Um?" Adam cocked his head.

"Lonnie?" Catra called over to injured trooper. She'd been hanging awkwardly at the edge of the moment. "We've got an open bunk in the barracks. Adam can take that one."

"You want to put him with all the others?"

Catra frowned meaningfully.

"You got a problem with that?" Lonnie settled into a stern glare.

"Awful eager to get away from him, aren't you? Kid wouldn't stop talking about you the last few days-"

Oh, this lecture is not happening.

"Of course he did. I'm a big deal. And you are my subordinate. Help your squadmate get situated. Explain to anybody with a problem about this exactly where they can stick their opinion."

"Sure," she rolled her eyes, "whatever you say, Force Captain. First, lets talk about what you owe me for this." Catra narrowed her eyes, a little shocked to get this much pushback.

"I need a laugh. Go head."

"After my primary service is up? You make me a sergeant."Catra shook her head and cupped a hand over one pointy black ear.

"Come again?"

"A sergeant. For training Cadets," Lonnie's cheeks colored a little, her voice edged, "that's what you owe me." She growled at Catra's mean little smile. "Screw you."

"It's just…you must have wuvved spending time with the little monster."

"Don't call him that!" Lonnie snapped. Catra bristled. "I mean it. He knows that word now. He doesn't like it." Catra sneered, indignant at being challenged so openly.

"Real nice for someone who never stopped picking on her squadmates as a kid."

"I grew up," Lonnie said, "and I did what you wanted. Followed your orders. I've earned this. And since I know you'll never say that this is your way around it."

"Sergeant," Catra scoffed, "fine. Waste your life. See if I care. But not for a long time, Lonnie, you get me? That promotion is a ways-"

"I didn't forget who I'm talking to." Catra bit back a snarl as Adam moved nervously next to her, watching her and Lonnie with growing concern.

"Go with Lonnie, booger," Catra said, nodding at her, "she'll get you set up with your very own bunk. I'll be around. Got a lot of thinking to do."

Hordak wanted a weapon. He couldn't hide that. He wanted the blueprints, the sword, and everything. All she had to do was show him Adam could be that. She'd prove it.

He's not literate. He's barely at a healthy weight. Who knows if he even gets what we're asking of him? Where would you even start? Adora would know. If Adora was here she could figure it out. Adora always had a plan. A way forward. You? You just get lucky. But luck doesn't last forever-

"Catra," Adam's hand touched her tiger-stripes then drew back, "s-sssorry." He made a bubble gesture. Catra offered him a real smile, quieting her mind.

"Go easy on you this time," she flexed her claws playfully at him, "but you watch out."

Adam giggled.

Catra considered the events of the day and stopped Lonnie from limping away.

"What happened at that arena anyway?" She didn't like the way Lonnie burst into laughter. "What?!"

"Nothing," the soldier smirked and ruffled Adam's hair fondly, "you just...wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Ooooo," Catra wiggled her hands in mock awe, "how mysterious!" Adam giggled again at her antics and she found herself growing increasingly fond of the sound, much to her own surprise.

Not a big surprise. A small voice said in her heart. You always loved making Adora laugh.

She bit down a curse at how easily she let herself slip. She knew what happened when you showed someone your heart. It just meant the hand holding the knife knew where to stab.

But he'd be different, she told herself. He'd be trained right. He would trust her. Be loyal. Be perfect. She had a chance to make it that way. He was magic. That was important she could start there.

There's only one person I know who knows anything about magic. That would be for tomorrow, she decided. Tomorrow.

"Home," Catra said. Adam blinked at her.

"Ooooo-mmmm?"

"Ha," she breathed, "oooooo-mmmmm."

"Hoooome?"

Catra drew his hood up, and made a face like she was hiding, ears alert and eyes suspicious. Then she relaxed and pushed his hood back.

"Home." She said. The boy nodded a little then nodded enthusiastically.

"Home." A place to feel safe. Not exactly the Fright Zone on the best of days but she'd worry about complexity later. For now she gestured around them at the pipes, the lurking sky, and the beating heart of the Horde.

"Adam," she said, poking his nose gently, "Horde. Fright Zone." She gestured around. "Home."

"Home," Adam nodded, sounding like he understood at last, though his expressive blue eyes didn't follow her hands. They watched her and hid none of his adoration.

She couldn't fall into that trap. She couldn't l

et either of them become weak. Adora had been weak and Adora had left. And Adora was never coming back. And she'd pay for that. Adam would help Catra make her pay.

That sunken place, the Karikoni words bubbled in her brain, grows darker the deeper you dive...

Adam's smile shrank into a little line of concer. Catra realized she'd been scowling and plastered on a smirk that she'd used whenever Adora had seemed unhappy.

"What?" She ruffled his hair. "I was thinking. One of us has to...I got plans for you, Adam." He gave her a wide, 21-gigawatt grin that could've lit the whole Fright Zone.

Until the light hurts your eyes.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:
So, firstly, we are still going on a planned hiatus. Hopefully this extra long chapter will help hold everyone over. I second our apologies for the time it took to publish. Life is hectic for all of us right now but we were so happy to have this ready to go at last. Thanks to everyone who's read, commented, and chosen to stick with us through the story so far. It's amazing to see the kind of response this fanfic has generated and we love to hear from you guys in the comments.

With some work we should be on hiatus for a brief time, enough to draft the next few chapters and provide a good read for everybody who joins each update. You guys rock. Everybody stay safe, wear a mask, and trust that we can create a better world. We have the power.