Chapter dedicated to Shiranai Atsune

Lotor hit his jet pack several hundred meters above the roaring pool of brilliant material that bubbled from the torn surface beneath him. The sudden loss of momentum made his stomach lurch, but he kept his eyes on the cliff face moving past him.

He was relying more on instinct than anything else. He could fantasise that this was some granule of Altean mysticism finally manifesting in himself. Part of him believed it could be accomplished while the other was dubious.

Still, something was guiding him like an invisible hand. Whether the compass was from within himself or being given by another power, Lotor was uncertain. At the moment, it didn't matter.

His gaze caught a sliver of even darkness fast approaching. He gave another shot of fuel to his pack and the harsh spit of the flame joined the raucous din echoing through the canyon. Carefully he angled towards the outcropping.

He landed firmly with a roll on smooth black stone. It was an even surface set into the face of the cliff. The rectangular space was easily four meters long and nearly that size deep. Lotor scanned the bare rock for any clue. The instinct had told him to come here, but now that he was here the feeling was frustratingly missing.

He reached out with his consciousness, longing to tap into the strain he knew flowed through his veins. He only needed a spark to draw out the flame, a catalyst to light his instinct again. He closed his eyes. The smell of sulphur was horribly distracting. It permeated even through his helmet's filters. Focus.

Lotor was unable to do so, when a powerful shaking nearly knocked him off his feet. He caught his balance by gripping the rough stone wall. His eyes whipped upwards just in time to see a red streak pass over the crag. Another shake reverberated through the rock.

Several things passed through his mind at once. Why were the paladins firing on their own lion? Were they protecting Blue? Will Blue defend herself? Or him? Will she leave? A final note of urgency was the last thing to jolt him into movement.

Don't get caught up in meaningless circles, whelp. Concentrate or you'll never save your princess.

A thought that had not occurred to him earlier suddenly blossomed, throwing his line of thinking into a tangle. What if she doesn't need saving?

If that were so… Why would Blue had taken him here? You've become too close to her. Everyone knows. They are protecting her.

A wave of anxiety rushed into his mind. His brows furrowed and he looked above him again. Why was doing the right thing so hard? The thundering firing of the lions was continuous. Another flash dipped across the gap, skimming dangerously close to the surface of the planet. The deep purple gash it tore across the sky labelled it as the Black lion.

Lotor suddenly felt a stab of ire. He growled. Focus. His gaze swept the area again. With his senses he reached out. The same way he had coached Allura earlier, he guided himself. He closed his eyes attempting to touch at least one iota of the layer of quintessence in this place.

Then he felt it. It was that familiar echo of a touch that he got whenever he was around the princess. A ghosting hand beckoned him forward. He shuffled along the path now glowing blue in front of him like a string of wisps in his mind's eyes.

Time slowed. All the sounds outside ebbed to the distant rumble of a thunderstorm. He nearly lost his balance, almost shattering the trance. The scent of fresh rain and wet soil permeated his nostrils. He realised he was suddenly not wearing his helmet. Lotor opened his eyes.

He was in a forest surrounded by tall, evergreen trees. A chill wind was whipping through the boughs, making them whistle ferociously. A looming storm threatened over a distant mountain range. Violet lightning bolts shot from the black clouds like seizing fingers, raking the land for a soul to snatch.

He risked a cry. "Allura!" This must be some netherworld. He thought.

A quivering blue flame caught his gaze out of the corner of his eye. When he tuned to it, the wisp promptly vanished only to reignite deeper into the woods. Hesitantly, he took a step forward on the uneven, rocky ground. Better not walk off the ledge in real life, his other half intoned impudently.

He pushed the annoyance aside for the time being and took another step forward after the wisp and the flame bobbed backwards, prompting him to follow.

For an instant, Lotor's better sense told him to stop, to evaluate the situation instead of blindly following an entity in a foreign realm. Like a languid shadow passing over a barren desert, an image of the princess passed into his mind's eye. "Allura," the name echoed off his lips in a whisper. It hardened his resolve and gave him purpose.

He moved forward with more confidence and his advance came easily. A slight smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he moved to follow the wisp.

XxX

Allura pirouetted into a long-legged kick that sent the snarling beast flying backwards. She wished she had her bayard with her. That would make this so much easier.

The Altean princess had been running for what felt like forever. Weariness was quickly seeping into her muscles. Wave after endless wave of lycanthropic monsters howled with the wind. She still had no idea where the beasts were coming from. Many of them looked to be the same visage: a crooked, fanged grin framed with an erratic black mane and silver whiskers. Deeply set crimson eyes, and possibly what Allura found the most disturbing, golden Altean marks that streaked with bleeding ebony lines.

The fights were growing more horrible physically, but spiritually she could feel the darkness sapping her energy. The princess bent over to catch her breath before facing the mountain range now looming over the forest. That was her destination. As she neared, a powerful beacon of purity called to her. It reminded her of home. The essence of Altea was everywhere in this forsaken place.

In the forest, it was twisted and broken; a tormented, sick, yearning copy. Something that had once been pure and light, now corrupted and mutilated beyond any hope of redemption. There was great sorrow pooling under the mangled trees she ran through. It was as if the hollow parodies of life drew their only strength now from the slowly fading energy of the torn ghosts.

It was beyond difficult to dwell upon and Allura shut herself off from the dark power. Instead, she fixed her eyes on the towering range that promised another world on the other side. She had no where else to go. The clustering thunderstorm behind her was riding fast. The violet lightening was already too close, so when another pack of vicious hosts erupted from the forest, she did not slow her feet.