APOKOLIPS
June 22, 00:00 UCT
Grayven's heavy tread echoed with every step down the broad stairway of black granite, down into the very heart of the Divine Palace. To enter this Sanctum was a death sentence to all but two beings in existence, and even Grayven himself was only permitted by invitation.
The stairway levelled out at the threshold of a cavernous vault that dwarfed even his own audience chamber, filled with a dizzying web of holo-glyphs depicting every alphanumerical symbol known to sapient life. Each glyph formed but one link in a chain that seemed to stretch and branch into black infinity like a fractal. The sheer interweaving complexity would have broken a mortal mind. But of course, this was the product of no mortal mind.
For as long as Grayven could remember - which was longer than many species had possessed writing - his father had preached one deceptively simple creed; the universe was ultimately governed by mathematics. Each force and counter force was precisely balanced in one incomprehensibly vast and nigh perfect Equation. There was only one flaw in that Equation, one unaccountable variable that spread discord throughout the otherwise harmonious symmetry like a cancer: 'Free Will'.
This was the Great Work of all Apokolips, to remove the single malformed cog in the cosmic clockwork and make all things One, to make all things Darkseid.
The Lord of Apokolips himself stood at the very center of the cyclone of data, a still eye of the mathematical storm. His back was turned to Grayven as he continued to silently sift through endless reams of shimmering data.
Grayven kneeled wordlessly. He knew it would not do to speak without leave.
After long moments, Darkseid finally broke the chill silence. His voice was like the stirring of a long dormant volcano.
Sᴘᴇᴀᴋ.
"Father, I wish to speak of the Etherian that recently attempted to 'liberate' Despara," Grayven rasped. "The one they call 'Catra'?"
Wʜᴀᴛ ᴏғ ʜᴇʀ?
"As Desaad is momentarily… indisposed, I humbly request your permission to conduct her interrogation myself?"
Sᴜʀᴇʟʏ Gᴏᴏᴅɴᴇss ᴄᴀɴ ᴀᴛᴛᴇɴᴅ ᴛᴏ sᴜᴄʜ ᴍᴇɴɪᴀʟɪᴛɪᴇs?
"I believe my experience makes me uniquely suited to the task. She likely possesses knowledge pertinent to our plans."
Darkseid paused in his calculations.
Oᴜʀ ᴘʟᴀɴs?
"The upcoming invasion of Etheria?" Grayven answered falteringly
Tʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ɴᴏ ɪɴᴠᴀsɪᴏɴ.
"Pardon?"
Oɴɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴄᴏɴғʟɪᴄᴛs ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ Rᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ Lᴀɴᴛᴇʀɴ Cᴏʀᴘs ᴍᴜsᴛ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴘʀᴇᴄᴇᴅᴇɴᴄᴇ. I ᴡɪʟʟ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴍᴍɪᴛ ᴀᴅᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴᴀ ʟʀᴇsᴏᴜʀᴄᴇs ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴏ̨ᴜᴇsᴛ ᴏғ ᴏɴᴇ ɢʟɪᴛᴛᴇʀɪɴɢ ᴅᴜsᴛ sᴘᴇᴄᴋ.
"It would only take a token force, Father. The Etherians are weak and simpering, and the Heart of Etheria-"
Nᴏ ʟᴏɴɢᴇʀ ᴇxɪsᴛs ʙʏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴀᴄᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ, ɪᴛs ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴅɪғғᴜsᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʟᴀɴᴇᴛ.
"It can be recreated in a millennium at most." Grayven leaped to his feet, frustration mounting. "What is time to the Gods?!"
A ʀᴇsᴏᴜʀᴄᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴄᴀɴ ʙᴇ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ sᴘᴇɴᴛ sᴇᴄᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ Aɴᴛɪ-Lɪғᴇ Eᴏ̨ᴜᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.
"But Father-"
ENOUGH!
Grayven instantly went silent, falling back to his knees. Darkseid turned, eyes smouldering warningly.
Yᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs ᴘᴏssᴇssᴇᴅ ᴅʀɪᴠᴇ, Gʀᴀʏᴠᴇɴ, ᴅʀɪᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴇʟᴅᴇʀ ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀs sᴏʀᴇʟʏ ʟᴀᴄᴋ. Fᴏʀ ᴛʜɪs ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜɪs ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ, I ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ… ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴠᴇ. I ᴀʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜᴛᴏ ɪɴᴅᴜʟɢᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ʙᴏᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ ᴀᴛᴛᴇᴍᴘᴛs ᴀᴛ ᴇᴍᴘɪʀᴇ-ʙᴜɪʟᴅɪɴɢ, ʀᴇsᴄᴜᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴏʙʟɪᴠɪᴏɴ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ʜᴀᴅ Gʀᴀɴɴʏ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴀ ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ Eᴛʜᴇʀɪᴀɴ ᴄʜᴀᴍᴘɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ sᴀʟᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴡᴏᴜɴᴅᴇᴅ ᴘʀɪᴅᴇ. Bᴜᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴ Dᴀʀᴋsᴇɪᴅ's ᴘᴀᴛɪᴇɴᴄᴇ ʜᴀs ᴀ ʟɪᴍɪᴛ...
His father's deep rumble somehow lowered even further.
Aɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ sᴛᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴛ ɪᴛs ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴘɪᴄᴇ.
Grayven bit his tongue, keeping his jet-black eyes downcast.
Gʀᴀɴɴʏ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴀᴛᴛᴇɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ Eᴛʜᴇʀɪᴀɴ ᴀs sʜᴇ sᴇᴇs ғɪᴛ.
Darkseid, turned his back on Grayven once more.
Aɴᴅ ᴡᴇ sʜᴀʟʟ ɴᴏᴛ sᴘᴇᴀᴋ ᴏғ ᴛʜɪs ᴀɢᴀɪɴ.
Grayven's face was a mask of impassive marble. "As you command… Father."
[-]
WATCHTOWER
June 21, 20:16 EDT
"Okay, let's try this again," Miss Martian sighed, taking a seat next to Tigress in the sterile interrogation room. "Why are you here?"
"You tell me, hun. You're the ones who locked me up here," Double Trouble answered. The shapeshifting mercenary tapped the bulky inhibitor collar clamped around their neck with the tip of their tail. "Don't you have anything a bit more… slimming? This thing is really throwing off my whole aesthetic."
"What were you doing on Earth?!" Tigress snapped. "Where did that Boom-Tube take Catra?! What did Desaad want with Halo?!"
"Oh, I'm sure Kitten's landed on her feet somewhere, she always does," Double Trouble purred. "As for the pervert in the purple bathrobe, no idea. Never met him before the other night. I was hired on Etheria by a cutie named Kanto." They smiled dreamily. "Mmmm... Now there's a man who knows how to dress."
"If Darkseid needed a shapeshifter, why not just send my brother?" Miss Martian asked.
Double Trouble smiled sweetly. "I don't know, hun. Maybe your brother's a hack?"
"That. Is. Enough!" Tigress roared, slamming her palms against the table. "Either you start giving us some real answers or-"
"Tigress, please!" Miss Martian restrained her. "Try to calm-"
"Wait, wait! Time out!" Double Trouble groaned, steepling their fingers as they leaned over the table with a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry, girls. I'm just not feeling it."
Tigress glared. "Feeling what?"
"The whole Good-Guard-Bad-Guard routine. It's just so stale, derivative. We need to find a way to freshen it up a bit," the shapeshifter mused. "Oooh, maybe I could interrogate one of you?"
"Excuse me!?" Miss Martian snipped. "This is not some… performance!"
"Not a good one, anyway," Double Trouble muttered.
Artemis placed a hand on her friend's shoulder before she could respond. "Maybe we should take a break."
[-]
A few minutes later found M'gann and Artemis in the observation room, watching their shapeshifting prisoner preen in front of the one-way mirror.
"You know I know you're there, right?" Double Trouble's voice echoed over the intercom before Artemis muted them.
"Please tell you got something useful?"
"No such luck," M'gann groaned, breaking off her psychic scan. She rubbed her temples, feeling the early stirrings of a migraine. "They keep mentally reciting monologues from something called The Tragical History of the Fire Princess."
Artemis rolled her eyes. "Theatre kids. C'mon, let them stew for a bit. See how cocky they feel without an audience to play to. In meantime…"
"In the meantime," M'gann didn't need telepathy to finish Artemis' thought. "I need to check in planetside."
[-]
HOLLYWOOD
June 21, 17:32 PDT
Melog lay despondent at the foot of what had briefly been Catra's bed at the Hub, their once shimmering mane now a dull grey in the harsh LA sun. Wingman curled at their side. The squat Corgi whimpered sympathetically, giving the alien fey a small lick on the nose.
"They haven't moved since we got back from 'Happyland'," Glimmer whispered, peering into the silent bedroom. She recalled the fight with Intergang at the abandoned amusement park, the battle that had ended with Catra disappearing into a Boom-Tube.
"I hate to say it, but they may have to," Bow replied softly. "Black Lightning only gave us until the end of tomorrow to get our stuff packed away aboard Darla before…"
"Before he chucks us off the planet," Glimmer huffed bitterly, leaning against the wall as she sunk to the floor in a defeated heap. "This isn't fair, Bow. We beat Horde Prime. We saved the universe, or at least the galaxy. This should all be over. But every time I think we've finally put all the fighting behind us, some new monster shows up and starts it all over again. Even if we do rescue Adora and Catra, what then? Darkseid just keeps coming after us forever?"
"Hey, we'll cross that Boom-Tube when we come to it." Bow knelt to embrace her. He ran his fingers through her glittering pink hair. "When we rescue Adora and Catra."
"Thanks, Beau," Glimmer leaned into kiss him. "I needed to hear that."
"Do you… need anything else?"
"Maybe later," Glimmer smiled shyly, leaning into his rich warmth. "For now… just hold me."
Recognized:
Miss Martian-B-Zero-Five
Glimmer and Bow immediately detangled themselves, racing down the stairway to the main living area just as the golden light of the Zeta-Tube was fading.
"Well?" Glimmer asked expectantly.
"I'm afraid we haven't gotten any useful intel of Double Trouble yet," Miss Martian answered. "They're being… uncooperative."
"There's a shock," Glimmer muttered.
"But what about Adora and Catra?" Bow asked. "What about the rescue mission?"
"Bow, Glimmer, I'm sorry," Miss Martian said patiently. "But without more intel, we just can't risk a mission to Apokolips."
"So, you're just going to do nothing?!" Glimmer demanded.
"Please try to understand," Miss Martian answered haltingly. "Apokolips has been dealing in abducted meta-humans from Earth for years, and slaves from across the known galaxy for millennia before that. C'eridy'all knows we'd save them all if we could, but…"
Glimmer was quiet, not knowing how to respond to that.
"We'll talk more later; I promise," Miss Martian reassured. "But first, I need to check in with Blue Devil. Excuse me." Her form turned translucent as she melted through the floor leaving the two Etherians alone.
"What now?" Bow asked, holding Glimmer close.
"We might have an idea?"
Glimmer and Bow turned to find Violet, Tara and Forager standing awkwardly at the foot of the staircase in their civies.
"We couldn't help overhearing," Violet said.
"Yes, we could."
"Tara!"
"Tara Markov is correct, Violet Harper. Violet Harper, Tara Markov and Forager could have helped overhearing very much."
"My point is we want to help," Violet sighed. "With or without the League."
"You… you'd do that?" Glimmer asked, drying an eye.
"I was trafficked to the League of Shadows," Tara spoke hollowly. "Turned into a living weapon. If Artemis and Nightwing hadn't been willing to take a chance on me…"
"Etheria Hive helped save Forager's Earth Hive. Forager figures Earth Hive owes Etheria Hive one."
"I know first-hand what it's like to be in Granny's clutches," Violet said. "I couldn't live with myself if I left Catra in that kind of Hell."
"But what about Black Lightning?" Bow asked.
"Nightwing has thaught Forager an Earth expression that Forager thinks is most applicable in this situation: 'Easier for sapient to beg forgiveness than to ask permission.'"
[-]
APOKOLIPS
June 22, 19:01 UCT
Catra had fought like a demon when they forced her into 'The Box'. She'd raked its metal walls until her claws were chipped and her fingertips raw and bloody. Then she'd banged with clenched fists and roared her fury until her arms ached and her voice cracked. Finally, she's sobbed until her tears ran dry. Now she was just very quiet and very still.
'The Box' was little more than a steel, lightless crate; just too narrow to sit down in and just too short to stand fully erect. Her muscles cramped from maintaining a constant stoop. The pitch-black heat smothered her despite the pitiful trickle of stale air being pumped in from somewhere. How long had she been here, hours, days? Maybe she'd always been here?
Blinding light abruptly invaded her world, cold metallic talons wrenching her from the darkness. She'd have been relieved if not for the snarling of the Parademons as they dragged her towards an interrogation chamber. She tried to struggle, as much against sheer exhaustion as her captives.
She ceased immediately once she spotted the tankard of water and platter of ration bars laid out on the interrogation table. She immediately fell on the meagre repast with desperate abandon, downing the tankard with a single chug. The water was off-color with an acrid aftertaste, but she was long past caring. She followed up by starting on the ration bars, wolfing them down, barely even pausing to chew.
"Really tearing into it, aren't you?"
Catra glanced up, locking eyes with the woman who called herself 'Despara'. She was so different from the Adora Catra had known, her tawny blond hair shorn down almost to the scalp, steel-blue eyes cool and calculating as she leaned against the opposite wall apprising her prisoner.
"You gonna torture me now or what?" Catra grunted through a mouthful of rations.
"No, I'm here to offer you a way out of that." Despara pulled out a seat. "Let's start with why you tried to abduct me?"
"I wasn't trying to abduct you. I was trying to rescue you!"
"Rescue me from what, exactly?"
"Have you seen this place!?" Catra gestured to the slavering Parademons looming over her.
"It's an interrogation chamber. It's not supposed to be pleasant!"
"Oh right, like the rest of the planet's much of an improvement?" Catra snorted before her face softened. "You must know you don't belong here, Adora?"
"Why do you keep calling me that?"
Catra noted she hadn't asked her to stop. "Because it's your name. I know this may come as a shock, but you are not a Fury of Apokolips. Granny kidnapped you from our homeworld over a month ago and wiped your memory."
"Even if I believed you, why? Why would you come to the very depths of Apokolips… just to save me?"
"Because…" Catra stared deep into those steel-blue eyes, her raw fingers tentatively reaching out. "I love you, Adora. I always have… and I always will."
Despara was quiet for a very long time, her face cold before breaking into a quiet snicker.
"Seriously? That's the best you could come up with?"
"Ugggh…" Catra groaned, facepalming with both hands. "How can you be brainwashed and still this fucking insufferable?"
"I am not insufferable," Despara flustered. "Or brainwashed!"
"Chh, obviously. You'd need a brain first."
"You're impossible!"
"No, you're impossible!"
The Parademons exchanged uncertain looks as the back and forth continued unabated for several minutes.
"What am I even doing?" Despara turned away, rubbing her temples. "Why am I bickering like a child with a prisoner, a complete stranger?"
"Because I'm not a stranger," Catra said, softer now. "I know you, Adora. I know you felt that connection just now. Just like I know there's no way you, of all people, can look at this nightmare and be okay with it. They can wipe your memory, but they can't wipe your heart."
Despara stared at the prisoner, uncertain what she felt. "If I can't get anything useful out of you, Granny will assign someone else. You know what that means, don't you?"
"Do you?"
Despara sighed, signalling the Parademons. The cybernetic fiends laid metallic talons on Catra's shoulder.
"Wait!" Despara spoke.
The Parademons froze. Catra's eyes hung on Despara expectantly.
"Move her to a standard cell," Despara said, glancing down at Catra's bloody fingertips. "And have a Fatherbox see to that."
Catra smiled weakly. "Thanks."
"Don't thank me," Despara turned her back as she left. "Your next interrogator will want you in one piece. At least… at first."
[-]
WATCHTOWER
June 22, 16:27 EDT
Black Lightning and Tigress, AKA Jefferson Pierce and Artemis Crock, sat at the polished conference table. Each pouring over a laptop, masks laid aside. Leading two globetrotting super-teams involved a lot more admin than most people would have expected. The entire conference room was quite as a church on a Friday night save for the chattering of the keyboards.
Jefferson was the first to break the silence. "You think I was too hard on Glimmer and Bow the other day?"
"I didn't say anything," Artemis said innocently.
"You didn't have to."
"You might have been a little heavy handed."
"They're just kids, Artemis," Jefferson sighed wearily. "They're not ready for this kind of fight."
"Neither was I when I started out."
"That's different. You and the rest of the original Team had guidance, oversight, a support structure."
"Kinda my point, Jeff," Artemis replied. "I've been going over M'Gann's reports on recent Etherian history. When Horde Prime invaded, these 'kids' didn't have a Justice League to fall back on, or two generations of heroic mentors to walk them through the whole saving the world deal. Hell, from what I gather, the closest thing Catra ever had to a mentor was a pathologically abusive witch, like a literal witch."
Jefferson cocked a sceptical eyebrow. "Sounds like you're making my argument for me?"
"I have a 'but'," Artemis countered. "But even without 'guidance, oversight or a support structure', they still managed to overthrow an interstellar fascist regime. So maybe don't talk down to them like unruly teenagers?"
Jefferson smiled softly. "Or sidekicks?"
Artemis smirked. "You said it, not me."
"ALERT!" Klaxons blared as the voice of the Watchtower's computer rang throughout the station. "UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS OF MAIN HANGER DETECTED!"
Artemis reached for her mask. "Someone's trying to break into the Watchtower!?"
Jefferson's eyes narrowed. "Or break out."
Black Lightning and Tigress burst into the main foyer bare seconds later, just in time to see the crystalline starcraft called 'Darla' soaring through the void beyond the main observation window. An indigo Boom-Tube opened silently in the hard vacuum before swallowing the alien vessel whole, leaving only empty black.
Tigress scowled behind her mask. "Jeff, remember all that stuff I just said about not treating them like unruly teens?"
"Yes?"
"Nevermind."
[-]
APOKOLIPS
June 22, 20:37 UCT
This time, Despara took no chances. The flyer had deposited her just outside the Fury Barracks' outer gate before rising again into the ochre smog. The guard on duty waved her through without so much as a second glance at her ID mark. She suspected the guard had been assigned this relatively cushy post more because someone up the chain-of-command owed them a favour than anything else.
That was just the way of things on Apokolips. For all that the Justifiers preached the brutal efficiency of Darkseid's regime, the ability to lick a superior's boots was just as prized as any actual competence.
Despara shook her head as she shuffled through the barrack's narrow corridors. Those kinds of thoughts were borderline blasphemy, but not nearly as blasphemous as the other thoughts running through her mind: thoughts of the feline prisoner she'd left for Desaad's Inquisitor.
She paused at the adamantine door of the main common room. There was some kind of ruckus going on inside. Despara pressed an ear to the cold metal. From what she could make out, Kara had challenged Stompa to an impromptu arm-wrestling match, again. By the sounds of it, said match was on the brink of devolving into an all-out brawl, again.
Despara would have to play peacemaker, an almost welcome distraction right now. All she had to do was walk through that door, lose herself in the intra-ranks bickering and by the time the dust settled, she'd never have to worry about her strange dream girl again.
So why was she hesitating?
[-]
The floor of Catra's new cell was hard, damp and freezing cold (seemed everything on Apokolips was either freezing or scalding), but at least it was wide enough to stretch out on. Must be the VIP suite, she thought bitterly. She drifted in dreamless half-sleep, only dimly aware of the cell door rattling open before she was once more wrenched callously from the darkness.
This time her escort were no mere Parademons, but Apokoliptans clad in faceless pointed hoods. Catra trashed and clawed rabidly as they dragged her through narrow shadowed hallways.
"Where are you taking me?!"
Catra's escort gave no response, not even acknowledging that she had spoken. Their silence was more unsettling than any taunt or threat. They finally heaved her into cool chamber with a vaguely sterile scent. The room was pitch black save for a single pillar of light that shone down on a lone steel chair, metal shackles bolted to the head, arms, and footrests.
At the sight, Catra made one last desperate lunge for freedom, before a hooded guard struck her across the back of the head. By the time her head cleared, Catra had already been shackled to the restraining chair. Her faceless escort withdrawn back into the darkness from whence they came.
Catra tested her restraints, only to find her limbs completely pinned.
"Fuck," she swore softly.
"Oh good, you're still conscious," purred a silky voice.
A slender figure in a flowing purple gown stepped out of the dark, tall and rail-thin, her spidery fingers steepled before ruby-red lips. Her raven-black tresses were crowned by an ornate spiral-horned headdress.
"Chh, nice hat," Catra snorted.
"So brave, but then… they're all brave in the beginning," the purple lady purred. "My name's Justeen, and I'll be your Inquisitor for today."
"You really expect me to tell you anything?"
"Oh?" Justeen's head tilted bemusedly. "Like how you stole my mentor's Fatherbox and Boom-Tubed your way here in some sad attempt the save your enthralled lover?"
Catra held her tongue as Justeen ran a black nail along her cheek.
"You see, 'Catra', we already know everything worth knowing about you, Etheria and your precious She-Ra. If I thought there was still anything useful in that pretty little skull of yours, I would have simply cracked it open and plucked it out by now."
"Then why am I still even alive?! Why even…" Catra hesitated, she didn't want to use the word, didn't want to make it real.
Back in the Fright Zone, when Catra still served the Horde, she observed Shadow Weaver 'questioning' captured rebels more often than she'd liked. They almost never gave up any useful intel. Oh, most of them broke, sooner or later. But that breaking almost always took the form of validating whatever private suspicion or pet theory Shadow Weaver had been nursing that day, whether it was true or not.
Typical Shadow Weaver, she only listened to what she wanted to hear.
"What's even the point of… this?!" Catra finally spat, trying to hold back the tremor in her voice.
"If you have to ask that question, you'll never understand the answer." With a gesture, Justeen summoned a hover-tray baring a range of sinister bladed implements. She carefully selected one resembling a curved serrated scalpel. "Let's start with something simple, shall we?"
Justeen held up her left hand, its back towards Catra, with the thumb hidden and the four fingers extended. "How many fingers am I holding up?'
Before the bewildered Catra could even answer, a soft chime echoed through the dark chamber.
"Hold that thought," Justeen sighed irritably, turning to open the door. "I said I wasn't to be distur-"
A mailed fist came flying through the door and into Justeen's face, swiftly followed by an armored Despara leaping over the Inquisitor's crumpled form.
"Are you okay?" Despara asked, snapping Catra's shackles before removing her skull-helm. "Can you walk?"
Catra leaped to her feet, shaking the lingering numbness out of her limbs. "I can now, thanks."
"Don't thank me yet. Without a Fatherbox, we'll have to make a run for the hangers and hijack a shuttle. If we make it to New Genesis space, there's' a chance they'll let us claim amnesty."
"And if they don't?"
"Then they'll probably blast us to cosmic dust on sight," Despara shrugged. "Still better than what Granny will do if we're caught."
"Wait!" Catra caught Despara by the arm. "Does this mean you remember me, remember us?"
"Honestly, I'm still not sure I even believe you."
"Then… why are you helping me?"
"I… I don't know," Despara answered truthfully as she could, taking Catra's hand. "Just hurry, while I'm still temporarily insane."
[-]
Gilotina sat on her bunk in the Fury barracks, mechanically sharpening her sword. Her ice-blue eyes, once full of mirthful malice, were now hollow and empty. Big Barda knelt by her sister Fury's side, holding a bowl of thin broth. She tried offering Gilotina a spoon of the pale liquid, only to be utterly ignored as Gilotina continued to stare off into nothingness, her blade worn down to practically a sliver.
"Gilly, please," Barda pleaded. "You have to eat something."
"Nobody home?"
Barda sprung to her feet, pivoting on her heels as Granny Goodness loomed over her.
"Granny!?" Barda saluted. "Ma'am?"
"Poor sweet Gilotina," Goodness cooed. "The Lump did have a tendency to overdo it at times."
"I'm certain with more time, we can-"
Goodness raised a hand to silence her. "There's been time enough. I've arranged to have Gilotina transferred to Section Zero. Effective immediately."
Barda's eyes went wide with horror. "But… no one ever comes back from Section Zero."
"Sad but true. Still, R&D can always use the fresh meat."
"NO!" Barda snapped. "You can't!"
Granny's eyes narrowed lethally; her voice cold as death. "I beg your pardon, child?"
Barda froze, shocked by her own defiance. "I…"
Ting!
Goodness paused to consult her Fatherbox. "I'll deal with your little outburst later, Barda. Right now, Granny has another wayward child to discipline."
[-]
He stood at the very pinnacle of His Palace, overlooking the blazing fire pit that bubbled up from the raging heart of His world like the titanic funeral pyres of the Old Gods; a mere reflection of the Omega Fire that smouldered in His own eyes.
Radiating out from the central pit to the very edge of the horizon, spread the war factories and slums of Armagetto. Every day, millions of the Hunger Dog who dwelled there were worked to death, sacrificed to the Eternal Flame.
The fire pits of Apokolips were pure power, power unbound by conscience or restraint. But Darkseid… Darkseid was control.
"Father?"
He glanced over His shoulder; His son was bent on one knee with eyes downcast.
Wʜᴀᴛ ɴᴏᴡ, Gʀᴀʏᴠᴇɴ?
"I wish to apologize for my earlier outburst," Graven said sombrely. "I realize now that I allowed my pride to master me."
Darkseid turned, arching a stony brow in genuine surprise for the first time in over eight centuries. Such contrition was practically unknown from Grayven, though not unwelcome.
Aᴘᴏʟᴏɢʏ ᴀᴄᴄᴇᴘᴛᴇᴅ.
"My gratitude, Father," Grayven rose to his feet, clasping his hands behind his back. "You have no idea how much it means to hear you say that."
Darkseid nodded in acknowledgement, turning His gaze back towards the fire pit.
Yᴏᴜʀ ɴᴇᴡ ғᴏᴜɴᴅ ʜᴜᴍɪʟɪᴛʏ ᴡɪʟʟ sᴇʀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʟʟ, Mʏ sᴏɴ… ɪɴ sᴍᴀʟʟ ᴅᴏsᴇs.
His low chuckle was like the grinding of tectonic plates.
Jᴜsᴛ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴄᴀʀᴇ ʟᴇsᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴇᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴀs ᴍᴇᴇᴋ ᴀɴᴅ sᴇʀᴠɪʟᴇ ᴀs KᴀʟɪURK-"
The God of Gods felt only a small coldness as the crystalline blade pierced his heart. It jutted from his chest like a shard of cosmic ice, already slick with Darkseid's own molten ichor.
"Oh, don't worry, Father," Grayven taunted as he twisted the Promethean blade in his sire's back, bringing fresh gouts of burning ichor. "I don't plan to make a habit of it."
Darkseid fell to his knees. He tried to summon the Omega Effect but his vision was already dimming as the coldness spread to his limbs. Was this death then? A novel experience.
"And so by the red light of the Fire Pits shall the Son slay the Father," Grayven quoted with a vicious grin, wrenching his crystal blade free as his sire's form slumped to the cold stone.
"FATHER!?"
Grayven turned just as a panicked Kalibak came hobbling past. The elder brother fell to his knees, cradling his father's still form.
"Father?! Father, say something," Kalibak pleaded softly. "Please, speak to me."
"St… stop…" Darkseid's voice was weak and wet, ichor trailing from the corner of his lips in molten rivulets. "Stop w-whimperi…"
The Lord of Apokolip's eyes went wide with awe, or perhaps fear, as though suddenly seeing something his sons could not. The embers of Omega flickered one last time before dying forever.
For Kalibak, this was a thing beyond comprehension. The cosmos could not lose its Center. All that was constant and immutable could not simply be snuffed out like a candle. He waited in long silence, certain that reality would reassert itself any moment and shatter this nightmare fancy. But the silence was shattered only by his brother's raucous laughter.
"Oh, poor pitiable Kalibak," Grayven chortled with cheerless mirth. "Even with his dying breath, Father snubs you."
Kalibak threw back his shaggy mane and let loose a thunderous roar as he pounced, a lifetime of grief and shame subsumed in a moment of animalistic rage.
Grayven snapped his fingers.
BOOOOOM!
Kalibak was too late to divert his momentum, tumbling into the Boom-Tube before its fiery maw swallowed him whole.
Once the vortex collapsed, two Parademons emerged from the shadows, their movements oddly mechanical as they hefted Darkseid's still form. Without so much as a word from Grayven, they unceremoniously tossed it over the precipice and into the raging fires below.
As it tumbled in free-fall, the god-corpse began to burn and crackle from within, consumed by the internal furnace of cosmic energy that in life had been held in check by sheer force of will. Soon, all that was left of the Lord of Apokolips a bright nimbus of blazing light. The dissipated essence was quickly consumed by the raging pit, just one more sacrifice to the Eternal Flame.
"Goodbye, Father," Grayven intoned wistfully. "I'm afraid this universe simply wasn't big enough for the both of us."
[-]
"One… two… heave!" Catra and Despara wrenched the heavy maintenance cover aside before scrambling up through the manhole into a shaded alley. They sprawled themselves across the damp concrete, sucking in the acrid yet still relatively clean air.
"Remind me never to try sneaking through the Apokoliptan sewer system ever again!" Despara wheezed.
"At least you had shoes," Catra retched, shaking her feet in disgust. "Where's the spaceport?"
Despara pointed at a ten-foot chain-link fence at the end of the alley. Catra was on her feet in seconds. All she needed was a running start, leaping from one wall of the alley to the other before pirouetting over the spiked apex of the fence and landing on the other side in perfect silence.
The renegade Fury had to rely more on raw power then finesse. Despara's superhuman leg muscles carried her over the fence with a single bound, the permacrete cracking under her feet as she touched down.
"Smooth," Catra snorted.
"I haven't exactly been trained for stealth-ops. Though it's weird," Despara surveyed the empty landing pads in the shadow of a looming conn tower. "There should be at least some guards?"
"Did you just say this is 'too easy'?" Catra hissed. "Never ever say anything is 'too easy'!"
"Why-"
BOOOOOM!
The Boom-Tube roared like a maddened demon as Granny Goodness' armored form strode forth from the swirling vortex, brandishing a weighty Mega-Rod in her grasp.
"That's why!" Catra hissed.
"Oh, how sharper than a serpent's tooth," Goodness lamented, shaking her silver-maned head. "I did so much for you, dearie. Rescued you from a life of idle degeneracy on a planetary backwater, gave you new purpose, a new identity. And this is how you repay Granny's charity, running off again with this flea-ridden trollop?"
Despara's body froze, mind racing as the realization hit her. "You knew… You knew all along! About me, Etheria…" She glanced at Catra. "Everything."
"Knew?" Granny chortled. "Child, who do you think wiped your mind in the first place?"
"You… you used me!" Hot tears burned down Despara's face. "I trusted you and you USED ME!"
"Of course, I used you, stupid girl!" Goodness rolled her eyes. "Haven't you realized out how things work around here?"
"Adora, stay cool," Catra whispered, adopting a defensive stance. "She's trying to bait y-"
Despara let loose a piercing battle cry as she surged passed Catra with energy sword held high, only for Goodness to send the Fury skidding across the runway with a swipe of her Mega-Rod.
The young Fury's armored god-form flickered as she staggered to her feet, muscles aching as she propped herself up with her energy sword.
"Still haven't learned our lesson have we, dearie?" Goodness advanced on the stricken Despara, her weapon raised high. "Not to worry, I'll just beat it into you as many times as it takes."
Catra pounced upon Goodness' back with a pantherish shriek, clambering and clawing all over the New God.
"Catra, grab her Fatherbox!" Despara cried.
"What's do you think I'm trying to do!?" Catra clawed at Goodness' belt. "She doesn't have one!"
"You really didn't think I'd bring him with me after what you did to poor old Desaad, did you, pussy?" Goodness grabbed Catra by the collar, raising the crackling tip of her Mega-Rod. "I always was more of a dog persAARGH!" Catra's fang dug into Goodness' hand, causing the New God to momentarily release her grip.
"CATRA, GET CLEAR!" Despara's hefted her energy sword above her head, shifting it into a warhammer. Catra leapt clear. At the same moment, Despara hurled the warhammer with all her might, sending it flying past Goodness's head.
"HA! Missed, dearie!" Goodness crowed, before the warhammer impacted against the base of the conn tower behind her. She just had time enough to turn as the whole structure came teetering down on her like a toppling redwood.
"Oh, fooey."
"Adora!?" Catra raced through the settling dust to the Fury's side. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah… I'm fine… I just need…" Despara sighed, swaying on her feet as her armored form dissipated in a flash of crimson light, before feinting into Catra's arms.
"You did good, babe," Catra murmered softly, slinging her unconscious girlfriend over her shoulder as she staggered off. "I'll take us the rest of the way."
"Go on, run, fools! No one ever really escapes Apokolips!" Goodness let loose a shrieking cackle, pinned under the wreckage of the conn tower. "You hear me, Despara?! For the rest of your short miserable life, every time you close your eyes at night, every time you blink, you'll be back here! WITH GRANNY! FOREVER!
[-]
Catra halted at the hanger's side entrance, readjusting Adora's unconscious weight on her shoulders as she examined the access panel. For lack of any better ideas, she tried inputting her favorite number.
Access denied.
Catra growled, inputting another random set of digits.
Access denied.
Catra gave up and started pounding the panel in frustration. "Open, you stupid piece of sh-"
"Now, now, language."
Yet another much younger Fury descended from the sky, her platinum blond hair tied back in a ponytail, and a puckish grin playing about her face. "There might be kids listening."
Catra tensed, she only skimmed the Justice League's files on Kryptonians when she'd hacked their system. But she recalled the scarlet crest on the young Fury's uniform. Catra also recalled enough to know that if Blondie got serious, the Etherian would be dead before her nervous system even had a chance to register the pain.
The Kryptonian tossed something. "You're going to need this."
Catra caught a thin data-chip, staring at it blankly.
Blondie rolled her eyes. "For the door, genius?"
Catra kept her eyes locked on the Kryptonian as she cautiously slipped the data-chip into the access panel. The door hissed open behind her.
"Why?"
"Funny story, I was in the middle of a killer arm-wrestling match back at the barracks when I heard Dez here outside the common room. Her heart was racing off the scale before she bolted. I've been shadowing you two since you busted out…" the young Fury's voice lowered now. "I overheard everything."
"That doesn't answer my question."
The Fury's face softened. "Dez was decent to me when she didn't have to be. That's not something you get a lot of in a place like this." She cocked her ear. "Parademons, a whole squad of them incoming!"
"I don't hear anything?" Catra cocked her own ears suspiciously.
"Stick around here and you will. Run, I'll buy you time!"
Catra turned to make her and Adora's escape before hesitating. "What about you?"
"Got nowhere to run to." The Kryptonian flashed a small sad smile before rising back into the smog choked sky.
[-]
Catra panted heavily as she raced down the long inner corridor, the unconscious Adora still slung over her shoulders. The entrance to the hanger was barely sixteen paces away now, and beyond it a pristine shuttle just waiting to be commandeered. It was all Catra could do to keep her heart from bursting with premature relief.
"Hold on, Adora," she panted. "We're almost-"
Catra's vision flared red as she was knocked back by a wall of pain and light.
"Adora!?" Catra fretfully checked the prone Adora. "Please be okay, please be okay!"
Once Catra was satisfied Adora hadn't sustained any further injuries, she gently propped her unconscious form against a steel grey wall before hurling herself against at the hanger entrance. Again, she was repulsed by the crimson force-field blocking their escape. Again and again, she clawed and raged against the unyielding energy barrier before eventually crumbling to her knees on the brink of despair. The shuttle lay paces away but may as well have been on the other side of the galaxy.
"So near and yet so far, eh Catra?" rasped a softly mocking voice.
He loomed at the end of the far corridor, a titan form with skin like polished purple marble and crowned with a mane of silver. A sardonic leer crept about his thin lips.
"You better keep the heck back if you wanna keep both eyes!" Catra snarled, hackles raised, fangs bared, face a mask of feral desperation.
The New God cocked his head quizzically. "You don't recognize me, do you?"
"You're Grayven, one of Darkseid's brats. I've seen your propaganda poster."
"I suppose I should not be surprised," Grayven mused, raising a hand to exam it like some half-forgotten relic. "I must appear very different to you, ever since My father reconstituted Me in this approximation of My original vessel."
Something cold slithered in the pit of Catra's stomach, her free hand unconsciously reaching for the small scar at the nape of her neck. "Vessel?"
"You may have forgotten Me, but I will never forget you, Catra. I knew you would inevitably come for your precious Adora. Because just like her, you are oh so very predictable… Little Sister."
Catra's hands trembled. This wasn't real. This couldn't be happening. "No… nonono."
"As I told you once before, Catra, there is no darkness where My Light cannot find you, no distance where My Hand cannot reach you!" His low rasp shifted into a booming baritone, eyes suddenly blazing bright emerald.
"Prime sees all!"