THE WARWORLD
June 26, 10:52 UTC
The corridors of the Warworld thrummed with power. At the very heart of the planetary dreadnaught seethed energies enough to annihilate worlds, awaiting only the thought of command from it's Master. Not that he would ever unleash such forces without just cause. Though self-proclaimed 'heroes' might decry him as a monster and a tyrant, those who served the Savior knew him for the visionary he was. For fifty millennia, he had guided and stewarded humanity as a loving father guides his own offspring. Of course, like any father, his love sometimes compelled him to discipline his short-sighted children.
"Cassandra?"
Cassandra looked up into the stern scarred visage of Vandal Savage; Earth's First and Greatest Hero, the Savior, her father.
His heavy brow furrowed. "Is something the matter?"
"Forgive me, Father," Cassandra answered, abashed. "My mind wandered."
"A dangerous habit." Her father's voice was low, almost soft, but the undertone of warning was unmistakable. He was not to correct her a second time.
"Apologies, Father." Cassandra stood at attention. "It won't happen again."
"Then the matter is closed." Her father turned to continue his inspection of the cavernous cargo bay, Cassandra marching in lockstep behind. "Status report from Betrassus?"
Cassandra consulted her tablet. "The Justice League's Javelin entered orbit two hours ago. They're currently attempting to open negotiations with the Red Lantern Corps' occupational force."
Her father smiled. "Excellent."
Not for the first time, Cassandra marveled at her father's brilliance. One quiet bribe to an informant who had the ear of Zilius Zox was all it took to convince the already paranoid Red Lantern leader that the Guardians of Oa were secretly using Betrassus as a staging ground for further expansion into the so-called Forgotten Zone.
Naturally, the Justice League had volunteered to mediate and deescalate the situation. If they failed to prevent hostilities between the Lantern Corps from reigniting, both the League and New Genesis would be treaty bound to come to Oa's aid. The resulting interstellar conflict would significantly drain three of humanity's major rivals for future dominance of the Milky Way.
And even if the League did succeed, placating Zox would take several days at the least, days in which Vandal's operations on Earth would have a free hand.
Vandal paused before a stasis pod. Its deceptively human-like occupant was dark-skinned with a sharply cut beard. The captive's strange uniform was emblazoned with an alien emblem that vaguely resembled the last letter of the Latin Alphabet.
"Set up a one-on-one with Ultra-Humanite," He continued. "I want to review the scientific data 'Modulok' traded to us in exchange for sanctioning his operations on Earth. I'm particularly interested in the prospects for grafting Krypton-"
BOOOOOM!
The Boom-Tube erupted in the middle of the cargo bay, roaring like the mouth of Hell itself. Cassandra was briefly taken aback, but her father's only response was to narrow his eyes warily. Nothing emerged from the blazing vortex as it hung in mid-air, an open wound in space-time.
"Wait here," Vandal brushed past Cassandra, stepping forward to accept the unspoken invitation.
[-]
APOKOLIPS
June 26, 05:56 CDT
The acrid sting of Apokolips' sweltering ash-choked atmosphere filled Savage's lungs as he stepped out of the Boom-Tube. He suspected if not for the regenerative qualities of his immortal physiology, the many cumulative years he'd spent breathing the planet's tainted air would have long taken a heavy toll on his health. It was partly why he'd always insisted on dealing directly with Darkseid rather than allowing any of his 'enlightened colleagues' to stand in for him. This was no world for mortals.
He'd stood upon the upper tiers of Darkseid's palace countless times over the centuries, so it only took him a split-second to realize something was wrong. The giant Omega symbol that once crowned the grim edifice had been replaced by a great golden sigil resembling a pair of sweeping bat wings. More concerning were the dozens of Apokoliptan warships filling the skies above. He could only imagine how many more were hidden in the ochre smog. An impressive display of force, if rather blunt.
"Ah, Temüjin!"
The New God stood at the edge of the balcony overlooking the fire pit below. His immaculate robe of white and gold shone against the dismal bleakness of his world, like a newly fallen Lucifer overlooking the plains of Tartarus. He turned to regard Savage with four asymmetrical emerald-green eyes, two of which had left fresh surgical scars in his polished marble visage.
The Lord of Apokolips smiled coolly. "Welcome… old friend."
[-]
NEBRASKA
June 26, 05:53 CDT
An amber sun rose over the sleepy Nebraska hills. The wind was soft and cool, rippling over the grasslands. A large farmhouse nestled in a copse of maple trees. This place appeared on no maps; holographic camouflage shielded it from satellite surveillance just as potent mystic wards prevented occult scrying. To the heroes of Earth, this place was inviolate, sacred… a Sanctuary.
Catra, Glimmer and Bow sat around a care-worn wooden table in the farmhouse kitchen. They silently nursed cups of tepid coffee as Melog paced the cool tiles. It had been a long night. Everyone was silent, they had already said everything that needed to be said. Now, they could only wait.
All four bolted upright at the creak of the old staircase, racing to the landing in the main hall, where a tired and weary M'gann had just descended. The Etherians crowded around her.
"How is she?!"
"Does she remember us?!"
"Can we-"
M'gann winced, rubbing her temples. "Guys, can we bring it down a little? It's been a long night."
The three quieted down, giving M'gann space to gather her thoughts.
"The good news is I was able to remove the memory block Granny placed in Adora's psyche…"
"And the bad news?" Bow asked warily.
"You need to understand, Adora went through… a lot on Apokolips," M'gann said. "Working through that is going to take a lot of support and understanding from the people who love her. And a lot of time."
"Can… can we go see her?" Glimmer asked tentatively.
"Yes, but you'll have to keep it short," M'gann answered. "The psychic surgery was draining for both of us, she'll need to rest soon. And it might be best if you go in one at a time."
Glimmer and Bow exchanged a quiet look before turning to Catra. The feline hesitated a moment, rubbing her arms anxiously, before Melog gave her an encouraging head nudge up the first steps. Catra came to the bedroom door at the head of the stairs, steeling herself for what came next. She inhaled deeply, raised a tight fist, and rapped her knuckles lightly upon the painted wood.
"Come in."
Catra turned the knob and stepped over the threshold.
Adora sat upon the bed, knees drawn up into herself. She wore an oversized white t-shirt and red cotton pajama bottoms. Her blond hair was still shorn down almost to the scalp, leaving only a thin yellowy fuzz. Yet for all that, she was still the most beautiful creature Catra had even laid eyes on. Adora turned, smiling weakly, her face framed in the silver light of dawn.
"Hey, Catra."
[-]
APOKOLIPS
June 26, 10:57 UTC
Savage arched a questioning brow. "Grayven?"
The New God's expression hardened. "From this moment on, you will address me as 'Lord Prime'."
"I see."
"But come, stay and talk with Me a little while." Prime smiled, gesturing to a spot by his side. "I have so missed our little chats overlooking the steppes of your homeworld all those centuries ago."
Savage lingered a moment before taking the proffered space. The squalid and twisted warrens of Armagetto stretched onto the very horizon, a landscape as unlike the cold austerity of the Great Steppe as he could imagine.
"I take it Darkseid is… indisposed?"
"Now, Temüjin, don't be coy," Prime answered. "I have no doubt your informants on Apokolips told you of the change of regime here almost as soon as it happened. Though I would not expect to rely on them for much longer."
"I'll make a note of it," Savage spoke coolly.
"In a way, I have you to thank, old friend. After all, it was you who first helped Me realize I could be so much more than My father's shadow, and now look at Me…" Prime raised his arms as though encompassing the entirety of Creation in his grasp. "I am now the Center of all things, the Axis about which the cosmos revolves, as I was always meant to be."
Savage well remembered their long 'talks' in the wake of Darkseid's original attempted invasion of Earth at the dawn of the 13th century. In truth Savage, then Khagan of the Great Mongol Nation, had said little at the time. It had taken only a few subtle prods to expose the embers of young Grayven's filial resentment and fan those embers into an all-consuming flame.
It was a son's instinct to seek to exceed his father. Savage knew that all too well.
"Why exactly am I here, 'old friend'?"
"Ever the conqueror, cutting to the heart of the matter?" Prime chuckled. "Very well, Temüjin. Centuries ago, you forged a pact with My father. Now that he is no longer an issue, I wish to offer you a new pact."
Prime arm curled about Savage's shoulders like a languid python, relaxed yet ready to constrict at a moment's notice.
"Pledge yourself to Me, Temüjin - you and your mortal co-conspirators," Prime whispered in Savage's ear. "And all humanity will dwell forever in the peace and glory that is Prime."
"Or?"
All four of Prime's eyes narrowed to razor slits. "There is no 'or'."
"I'm no longer the provincial warlord you once knew, 'Prime'. I've kept abreast of galactic developments over the centuries," Savage growled low; his scarred lips curled in distaste as he shook off Prime's hand. "I know very well what your 'peace' entails."
"Tread carefully, savage." Prime's voice was a cold. "There can only be one guiding Light in this cosmos. To reject Me is to reject the only mercy your tragic species will ever know."
Savage's only response was a glare, hard and sharp as flint.
"Perhaps a few days to consider your options, then?" Prime snapped his fingers.
BOOOOOM!
The stony floor vanished beneath Savage's feet, abruptly swallowed by the fiery maw of a second Boom-Tube.
[-]
THE WARWORLD
June 26, 11:01 UTC
"FATHER!?"
Cassandra raced to her sire's side. The Boom-Tube had manifested almost thirty feet above the deck of the Warworld's cargo bay, and Vandal had hit the metal plating with enough force to kill a baseline human. His form was still, limbs bent at unnatural angles, face down in the pooling blood.
Another might have prayed, kneeling by a parent's body. But Cassandra's father had long ago thought her that though the gods were to be respected, they were never to be relied upon. In this universe, one could only trust in one's own strength. So, she waited.
Then came the sudden wheeze of thirsting lungs, the crack of bones snapping back into place. Vandal slowly rose to his feet, leaning on his daughter's shoulder as he hauled himself upright, clutching his side. He was relatively certain one of his ribs had punctured a lung, but that would pass in a moment. He had more immediate concerns.
"Cassandra…" He coughed, wiping away the drying blood from his face. "Prepare the Warworld for immediate departure."
[-]
SANCTUARY
June 26, 05:59 CDT
Catra perched quietly on the frilled tuffet by Adora's bedside, feeling vaguely ridiculous. Neither of them had said anything since the initial exchange of 'hey'. The longer the silence wore on the more impenetrable it became. But what to say, what could be said?
"So, how are you feeling?" Catra instantly regretted asking.
Idiot! What kind of a question was that? The love of her life had just spent the last month as a brainwashed slave on a planet that was basically Hell and she asks 'How are you feeling?' As though Adora had just had her appendix removed. Stupid! Stupid!
"I'm okay, thanks," Adora answered, though the forced smile said otherwise. Catra's fingers edged across the bed quilt, towards Adora's own, only for Adora's clenched hand to withdraw. "I just think I'd like to sleep for a while."
"Yeah, sure, no problem," Catra said hurriedly as she rose from the tuffet. Her hand was around the doorknob before realizing she'd completely forgotten to tell Adora about Horde Prime's seeming resurrection. "Adora…"
"Yeah?"
"I… I love you."
Adora smiled weakly. "Thanks."
[-]
SANCTUARY
June 26, 09:16 CDT
"What do you mean you didn't tell Adora about Horde Prime!?" Glimmer exclaimed.
The morning sun had started to heat up and the three Etherians - plus Melog -were huddled under the protective shade of an overhanging maple tree. Even with a generous slathering of 'sunscreen' as the Earthers called it, none of them trusted the blazing orb.
"She's been through almost literal Hell," Catra protested hotly. "What was I supposed to say 'Oh hey Adora, hope you're feeling better after over a month of constant psychological trauma. Oh by the way, your worst enemy has somehow magically resurrected himself from the dead!'"
Catra let out a low sigh, draining the snark from her voice, leaving only a tender hurt. "Adora is like glass right now, one wrong move, one wrong word, and she might shatter. I can't take that chance. I won't."
"We're going to have to tell her eventually," Bow offered.
"We will." Catra nodded. "Just… not right now, not 'til she gets her head cleared."
If she gets her head cleared, whispered that treacherous voice coiled in the back of Catra's mind again.
The three of them fell very quiet again. The silence was broken only by the murmur of the leaves and the distant low rhythm of a falling axe. Across the farmyard, a bronzed figure stood, methodically splitting wood with slow steady swings of his axe.
"Hey don't we know that guy?" Bow asked.
[-]
Angelo del Rey paused a moment to wipe the sweat from his glistening brow, taking a cool swig from his water bottle. His dark golden curls clung damply to his sweaty scalp. He emptied the rest of the bottle over his head, refreshing the gill-slits that ran down the side of his neck. The cool water stung the pair of pale ragged scars running down his bronzed back, beneath the loose crop-top.
The pain brought back bad memories, memories of his time in the clutches of the alien organ thief called 'Modulok'. The steely cold of the operating table, the hot sting of the scalpel, he pushed the memories down for now.
"Keep 'em coming, Danny boy," Angelo said in an ozzie brogue, hefting his ax.
"Comin' up, Angelo," replied a Southern twang.
The lanky bespectacled boy didn't look any older than twelve, yet didn't seem to struggle in the least as he carried a stack of logs that grown men might have struggled with. "But don'tcha think we got 'nuff firewood ta last three winters by now?"
Angelo shook his head. "Can't stop now, mate. I'm in 'the zone' as you Yanks say."
"Hey-hey now, watch who ye'r calling a 'Yank'," Danny said amiably as he set down the logs. Despite the summer sun and the thick dark grey hoodie he wore, the boy hadn't even broken a sweat.
Angelo snorted. Danny was right of course. Nobody this side of the Arctic Circle needed that much firewood in June. But something about the simple repetitive task of hewing the logs helped clear Angelo's mind. It was the first real sense of peace he'd had since…
"Sea Angel?!"
Angelo couldn't help wincing at the sound of his old codename. Still, he smiled as he turned to greet the three colorfully dressed strangers (and one glowing cat?) that had just hailed him.
"Day, mates," Angelo said. "Have… we met?"
"Oh, that's right. I guess we're never officially introduced," replied the dark-skinned bloke in a crop top with a quiver slung over his shoulder. "I'm Bow, and this is Glimmer, Catra and Melog. We were with Tigress and Halo when…"
"Ah…" Angelo said quietly. They didn't need to say anymore. "Well, thanks for helping out with that, but you can just call me 'Angelo'. And this here is my bro, Danny Chase."
"Charmed, Vi and Vic told me all 'bout y'all!" Danny shook Bow's hand vigorously, his skinny fingers clamped around the archer's own. The younger boy sheepishly drew back his hand once he noticed the small grimace on Bow's otherwise smiling face. "Heh, sorry… Guess I don't know m'own strength."
"No problem," Bow said through a smile, shaking the feeling back into his fingers.
Catra cocked her head inquisitively. "You know Rainbow?"
"We're kinda 'cousins', ya might say," Danny said with a vague shrug.
The five young people had just started chatting when a new figure suddenly turned the corner of the farmhouse. She was slightly older, clad in a light green jumper, olive skin and chestnut hair bound in a tight bun. Her light brown eyes peering curiously from behind wide spectacles. She held a sketch pad close like a shield.
Angelo offered a friendly wave. "Hey, June!"
The green clad femme let out a small yelp, ducking behind the sketch pad and retreating back the way she came.
"That was… odd," said Glimmer.
"Nah, Mx. Moone's just a lil shy 'round new folks," Danny said. "She's harmless."
[-]
BLUE VALLEY, NEBRASKA
June 26, 09:23 CDT
Elizabeth Kramer, age eighty-four, shuffled across her kitchen. She emptied half a can of moist cat food into a waiting floral bowl. She hummed to herself as she mushed the meal with an old fork, missing a tine. Preparations complete, she poked her head into the back garden.
"Chester!" she warbled. "Dinner time!"
The only answer to Elizabeth's hail was the fluttering summer wind. She started to worry. Chester wasn't like other cats. Ever since she had found him curled in a ditch almost sixteen years ago, he had never failed to come when called (especially for dinner).
The silence was eventually broken by a rustling in the shrubbery, followed by a head covered in brown and white patchy fur poking out from the bushes.
"Mrrrow?"
"There you are, Chester," Elizabeth tutted. "You shouldn't scare mommy like that."
Chester came padding unsteadily along the green lawn. His four legs began to wobble beneath him, before finally collapsing on the dry grass.
"CHESTER!?"
Elizabeth raced to the fallen feline's side, moving with a speed that belied her age as she fell to her knees. She cradled the poor creature's head. "Chester, please… wake up!"
The cat's eyes suddenly snapped open, revealing orbs of pure inky blackness. The shadow burst forth from Chester's eye sockets and mouth like a locust swarm, utterly subsuming Elizabeth Kramer.
[-]
Chester awoke on the grass, under the warmth of the bright sun. He couldn't remember falling asleep but didn't let that bother him. He slept where and when the mood took him. The last thing he could recall was being approached by that strange human, the one whose eyes burned like green fire and who whispered cold words that bent the air.
He didn't let that bother him either; humans were always doing odd things. He padded through the house, mewling for his own human. He found the front door swinging open in the wind. His human's metal travel box was missing from the stone path outside.
Typical human, thought Chester, curling up on the porch for another nap.
[-]
THE WATCHTOWER
June 26, 10:52 EDT
"Let me see if I understand what happened," Black Lightning said sternly, Tigress by his side. "You intentionally over-road the Watchtower's docking protocols and flew off with people you've known barely a month to take part in an unsanctioned rescue mission to Apokolips, where you were nearly captured by Darkseid's son?"
"Yes, exactly! Forager is relieved to have cleared up any misunderstanding!" The New Genesian Bug chirped happily, before Terra quietly elbowed his thorax.
"Forager and Terra were only following my lead." Halo stepped forward. "I alone should face the consequences."
Tigress cocked an eyebrow. "So you take full responsibility?"
"I do, and I'll accept any sanction you deem appropriate," Halo answered. "But I will not apologize for helping save an innocent soul from Granny's claws, so don't bother trying to make me feel guilty."
Tigress repressed a smirk. Halo had come so far since that night three years ago when she'd found them shivering in a Markovian graveyard, afraid and uncertain of who (or even what) they were.
Still gonna have to come down on you like a ton of bricks though, Vi.
Artemis? a psychic voice broke in on Tigress' thoughts.
M'gann? She crinkled her nose. I'm kinda in the middle of something right now?
Sorry, I just zetaed in and I'm kinda in a hurry. Is Black Canary still aboard?
I saw her heading for the locker room a little while ago, but why are you-
Thanks, talk later, M'gann cut her off. For real, I mean.
Wait, what-
"Tigress?"
She blinked, only now noticing that Black Lightning was eyeing her quizzically.
"Sorry," she replied sheepishly. "Miles away."
[-]
Dinah Lance - better known to the world as the Black Canary - slid into a black leather boot. Though some might have questioned Dinah's taste in attire, she'd found it a lot more practical than trying to street brawl in a billowing cape like some of her co-workers were wont to do. She paused to pose before a mirror in the Watchtower's locker room. She admired her completed outfit, smirking slyly. Besides, she looked damn good.
"Dinah?"
Black Canary spun on her heels, blushing slightly, composing herself as she recognized the speaker. "M'gann?!"
"Sorry for startling you," Miss Martian said. "I wanted to talk to you before you left. Do you have a moment?"
"Of course. Ollie and I were planning to raid a Kobra safehouse in Coast City tonight, with Hal off-world and all." Canary took a seat on a bench, gesturing for Miss Martian to join her. "But I can spare a minute."
"Time may be the problem," M'gann sighed. "I just got back from Sanctuary,"
M'gann didn't mention the three-hour enforced nap she'd been obligated to take after completing an all-night psychic surgery session. "I've finished unblocking Adora's memories, and we need to fast-track her counseling immediately."
"I see," Dinah said thoughtfully. "Well, this Kobra op might take a few days but once I'm back, I can-"
"Dinah, I don't think Adora is going to last a few days. I was in her mind, the things she saw on Apokolips… the things they made her do..."
"Well, what about you?"
"Honestly, I think I may be in over my head. But there is someone who I'd like to bring in on Adora's case. She's a little… unconventional, but she has a lot of experience dealing with this kind of trauma and recovering from extreme abuse."
"She sounds great," Dinah said. "Do I know her?"
M'gann winced. "Yeeeaahh… there's the rub; you kinda already do…"
Miss Martian spoke the candidate's name. Dinah's voice was flat as a broken heart monitor when she finally responded.
"You're joking… right?"
[-]
SANCTUARY
June 27, 15:26 CDT
Adora sat alone in the small study. The afternoon sun streamed through the French window; a sleepy orchard lay beyond. Another plush lounge chair sat empty opposite her own.
She bolted out of her chair, pacing the room like a caged animal. Why was she even here? She didn't need to talk about her problems with some stranger; she needed to do something. The room was too small, too quiet. There was nothing to distract her, nothing to keep out the memories. Adora felt an inexplicable surge of molten anger, followed by jolt of pain lancing up her right arm.
She gazed down, her bruised knuckles had left an imprint on the floral wallpaper. She'd never lost control like that before, never lashed out like that before.
Her thoughts were broken by the sound of someone retching nearby.
"Hello?" Adora stepped into the hallway, pausing before the closed lavatory door and knocking timorously. "Is everything okay in there?"
"Just a sec, hun!" a voice chirped, followed by a flushing noise.
The lavatory door flew open to reveal a pale woman in ripped denim shorts and black tee. Her yellow hair was dyed bright pastel blue and pink at the tips, colors Adora hadn't been sure even existed on Earth.
"Sorry, hun," the woman belched. "First time in the ol' Zeta-Tube. Take it from me, having your molecules blasted across the continent ain't fun when you're already nursing a bitch of a hangover. Adora, right?"
"Uh, yeah," Adora answered uncertainly. "Are you another 'resident'?"
"Nah, I'm your new therapist, pleasure to meet ya!" The blue/pink-haired woman wiped her mouth before grabbing Adora's hand, shaking it vigorously. "Dr. Harleen Quinzel at your service, but you can call me 'Harley'!"
[-]
Adora perched on the edge of the cushioned seat, not entirely trusting it. She didn't trust much anymore. "So, Dr. Quinzel, how is this supposed to work exactly?"
"No need for all that 'Doctor' stuff, hun. Call me 'Harley', or 'Harl'. 'Harl' is good. I like to keep it relaxed in here." 'Harley' sat lankwise across her own chair, legs draped over an armrest as she filled out a small clipboard after asking Adora a few rather generic questions. "'Sides, the State still won't gimme back my license to practice."
"Your what?"
Harley brushed off the question. "So, at the risk of soundin' cliché, how 'bout tellin' me a li'l 'bout your childhood?"
"Not much to tell, honestly," Adora shrugged. "Fell out of a magic portal as a baby, found by a fascist alien warlord, raised as a child-soldier by a power-crazed witch."
"Don't feel bad, hun, everybody says that 'bout their mom at some point!"
"No, I mean she was an actual literal witch!"
"Oh." Harley cocked her head. "Kinda like… Granny Goodness?"
Adora tensed. Granny's toadish leer flashed across her mind. "I don't want to talk about that."
"Look, I know this is some pretty heavy shit for a first session," Harley said softly, suddenly straightening up. "But you can't just ignore your trauma, Adora; you have to work through it. It's hard and it's scary, but it's the best thing you'll ever do. And believe it or not, it's actually easier the sooner you-"
"What do you even know about it!?" Adora snapped, bolting out of her chair. "You never had some monster claw their way into your skull and twist you up inside! Urgh! This is stupid!"
She stormed out, leaving Harley alone in the silent study.
"Not gonna lie," Harley said to herself. "Coulda gone better."
[-]
"No foolin'," swore Danny, rotating his arm as he sat under the maple tree in the farmyard, surrounded by Catra, Glimmer, Bow, Melog and Angelo. "First time I tried that, it fell clean off!"
Adora stormed past them, not even slowing down to utter a single word.
"Hey, Adora!" Catra yelled, running after her. "Are you okay? How'd it go?"
"I don't want to talk about it!"
"Okay, but-"
"What is your problem!?" Adora snapped.
Catra froze. "I- I just want to help?"
"You wanna help?" said Adora, brushing past her. "Then leave. Me. Alone!"
Catra was about to follow when a pale hand fell on her shoulder.
"Let her go, kid," Harley said. "She'll be back when she's ready."
[-]
Adora's flight had finally come to an end at a still pond under a shady willow tree, on the very border of Sanctuary. She sat in the damp grass, arms wrapped tightly about her knees, staring at the pale white toad lounging upon a half-sunk log. She couldn't believe she had lashed out at Catra like that, at the love of her life, at someone who had risked life and soul to save her from the nightmare that was Apokolips.
But did she really? The voice in Adora's head was bitter, treacherous and cloyingly sweet. She could still smell the all-pervading brimstone stench of the fire pits, hear the piteous wails of Lowlies under the boot. Every time she closed her eyes, she could still see Granny Goodness' mockingly grinning face, just as she had promised.
Everywhere Adora went, Apokolips went with her.
"Are you alright?"
Adora perked her head up at the newcomer, a somewhat older bespectacled figure in an old green sweater.
"What?" Adora blinked, trying to shake off her funk. "I mean… I'm fine, thanks."
"I'm sorry, you wanted to be alone. I'll go."
"No, it's fine, I just-" Adora sighed, turning back to watch the ripples on the lake. "Just don't expect much conversation."
"Fair enough. I'm June by the way," The newcomer took a seat on the grass, propping the sketchbook on their lap. "June Moone, she/they."
"Adora… she/her, I guess?" She'd never understand why Earth languages didn't use gendered first-person pronouns. Was everyone on this planet just supposed to guess? She nodded at the sketchbook. "Are you an artist?"
"Art teacher, actually. At least… I used to be," June said falteringly. "I see you've met Drude?"
Adora cocked her head. "Drude?"
June pointed to the pale toad sitting on the log.
"Oh, I didn't know it had a name?"
"I like to come sketch him, he's a great model."
Adora regarded the pale toad, still as a stone. He could certainly hold a pose, she gave him that. "So are you another Earth hero?"
"Not exactly…" June winced. "Up until a few weeks ago I… I wasn't exactly myself."
Adora frowned. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't pry."
"No, no, it's fine," June sighed. "There was this… person. She was abusive, controlling. She got under my skin, into my head, made me… do things, things I'm not proud of."
Adora guts twisted, June's story struck uncomfortably close to home.
"Oh, don't be so modest, June," croaked a new voice, harsh and mocking.
The old woman loomed behind Adora and June in her dark green overcoat. Her arms hung oddly limp, her feet awkwardly splayed, as though she was unaccustomed to her own limbs. "After all, we did such great things together."
"No…" June whispered in fearful recognition, dropping her sketchbook upon the damp grasp, backing up against the willow. "You… you can't be here! Zatanna said Fate's wards would keep you out!"
"And they might have… had you not been here. There's nowhere you can go where I can't follow, June," the old crone cackled sardonically. "You belong to me."
"That's it," Adora said, interjecting herself between June and the old woman, instinctively shielding the young artist. She didn't understand much of what was going on, but she understood enough. She stared down the crone. "I think it's time you leave."
"Adora, don't-"
June's warning came too late. The crone's claw-like hand shot out like a striking viper, clasping Adora's wrist in a bony death grip.
Adora tried to pull herself free, but the crone held her in place with an iron grip. "What-" With a flick of her emaciated wrist the old woman sent Adora hurling like a ragdoll, her body slamming against the bark of the old willow.
The crone stalked toward the stunned Etherian, flexing her bony talons, ready to deliver the kill.
June Moone wasn't like the other residents at Sanctuary; they were no hero, just a fledgling art teacher caught up in the machinations of a being possessing deathless malice. Years had passed since seemingly random chance had turned the entity's gaze towards them, an entity that would never stop hunting them, never rest until it utterly possessed them, body and soul. With Adora lying stunned at the foot the ancient willow and the crone momentarily distracted, blind animal panic took over, flight or fight. They wanted to run. They needed to run.
June was as shocked as anyone then, to find themself grabbing a discarded tree branch and swinging with all their might. The rotted branch shattered into a dozen splinters as it struck the back of the crone's skull.
The crone's head twisted almost a full hundred and eighty degrees, her smile crooked, her eyes orbs of purest black. "Don't try to be a hero, June," she rasped mockingly. "You're not the type."
Before June could react, the crone's bony claws clamped about their throat. The next thing June knew the crone had them pinned to the damp grass, straddling their prone body.
June clawed futilely at the old crone. "Get off me!"
"Oooh, I love it when you try to fight back, June." The crone leered down at her prone victim. Her jaws distended like serpent's, disgorging a miasma of smoky darkness that completely subsumed June's being. As though her task was complete, the crone immediately fell limp beside June.
"June!?" A still groggy Adora staggered wearily to her feet, dashing to the fallen artist's side. June lay curled in the cold grass, their body shuddering as though raked by icy claws.
"June!?" Adora pleaded. "June, can you hear me?!"
[-]
Adora's voice was a dull, faint thing, like a thin wind over distant hills. Even the sun was little more than a pale grey disc in a black sky. All light and warmth had been bled from June Moon's universe, leaving her cold, afraid and so terribly alone.
Oh no, sweet June. Never that. Never alone.
June felt the Shadow tearing back the layers of her mind to lay bare all the shameful secret places of her soul, filling her with its own tainted essence. "Please…" June whimpered. "Please… stop."
Stop? Oh June, we've barely even started. I can't begin to tell you how much I've missed you, ever since we were cruelly torn apart.
"This can't be happening," June wept. "Dr. Fate said you were gone!"
Then Nabu's a liar and a hypocrite. Possession is nine-tenths of the Law and all that. Now… say the Word.
"Please, I don't want to hurt anyone again!"
It's adorable that you think you have any choice in the matter.
The Shadow swelled her mind to bursting, until it felt like her skull would crack. She tried to fight it like she had countless times before, and just like every one of those times…
Say it!
Finally, inexorably, June's mental walls finally broke.
"In-incantatio."
[-]
"So then I say to him, 'that's no Toxicodendron radicans, that's my wife!'" Harley broke down into a giggle fit on the front porch of the farmhouse. Catra, Bow, Glimmer, Melog, Angelo and Danny sat around her in a rough semi-circle, their expressions blank, confused, and befuddled.
"I don't get it?" Glimmer said.
Damn, these kids were a though crowd. If Harley couldn't turn this around, she might even have to break out the sock puppets. Before things could escalate that far, a lance of sickly eldritch light burst from somewhere on the outer edge of Sanctuary, sending a tremor through the Earth beneath them.
Catra, hopping to her feet, hackles raised. "The heck is that!?"
The emerald pillar began turning the summer blue sky a rotting black, like mold spreading across a porcelain dome. It was coming from somewhere near the old willow pond if Harley guessed right. She also had a pretty good idea exactly what 'the heck is that'.
"Well, fu-" Harley began, before remembering there was a twelve-year-old present. "-uuudge my life."
[-]
Adora recoiled from the pillar of eldritch fire, shielding her eyes from the emerald light. Wailing winds whipped and sliced at her. The grass beneath and sky above darkened, as though the shining pillar was greedily stealing and hoarding all light for its own jealous luminance.
"JUNE!?" Adora cried, reaching out only for her fingers to be nearly seared off by the unearthly radiance. She was thrown back by one final burst of the uncanny light. All fell silent until…
"Oh… yesss…" the voice was rich as night, smooth as venom.
Adora staggered to her feet, glaring blearily at the figure that stood where June Moone had just a moment ago. Her skin was corpse-pale with sharp elven ears. Hair like white-gold flowed about eyes the same poisonous green as the eldritch light. Midnight robes etched in silver billowed silently about her lithe form, the robes of an enchantress.
"June?" The question sounded ridiculous the moment Adora voiced it. This sorceress was as unlike the mousey young femme she had just befriended as the blazing sun was unlike a pale moon, but still…
"Yes… and no," the Enchantress spoke in a low sing-song voice as she stepped - No, not stepped, her bare feet floated mere inches above the grass - she wafted towards Adora like smoke on a cold wind. Her emerald eyes ate into Adora like twin coals, peering past mere flesh and bone.
"Who are you? Where's June?!" Adora reached for the iron knot of anger in her belly. Good, anger was easy, anger was simple.
"Must you mortals dole out your Names like chocolates? Dangerous habit that. Especially for one who barely knows who she is. As for dear sweet June…" The Enchantress circled Adora in a slow languid spiral, pausing to trace a long spidery finger along down her own temple. "They're right in here, watching, listening, and cowering in some forgotten corner of their own skull… like they always do."
Adora summoned her energy sword, leveling it on the Enchantress. The translucent blade was jagged and evilly curved, as though it had forgotten what it was supposed to be. "Let them go or-"
"Or… what? You'll run me through?" The Enchantress sneered, leaning forward until the very blade-tip pressed against her own throat, against June's throat. "Are you really that broken, hero?"
Adora held the blade in place, blue eyes hard as steel, before letting her arms fall limp with a defeated sigh.
"That's a good pet. I'd love to stay and chat, but I really must be dashing. You know how it is, places to be, people to see, souls to flay." The Enchantress smirked, rising into the dark skies before streaking away like an emerald comet.
Adora watched her go with hollow eyes. Her energy blade flickering out of existence. She wanted to break down, to cry, but what would even be the point? She couldn't help June. She couldn't even help herself. There was a noise, everything was shaking. People were crowding everywhere. Someone was yelling something, a name, her name.
"Adora, ADORA!" Catra cried, shaking the unresponsive Adora by her shoulders. "Say something!"
"What?" Adora murmured drifting back to the outer world.
"'Kay, everybody just give her some space, let her breath," Harley said, gently shooing back Catra as well as Glimmer, Bow, Angelo, Danny and Melog. "Adora, hun? Are ya okay? Are ya hurt?" Harley asked, carefully checking the younger woman for any sign of injury.
"Yeah… I… I'm fine," Adora answered dully.
Angelo knelt by the unconscious elderly woman still lying in the grass, falling back on his lifeguard training. "Pulse steady, breathing strong, but we should still signal the Watchtower for a medevac."
"What was that thing?" Glimmer asked, staring into the dark sky. She could still feel the miasma of chaotic magic, hanging in the air like an oily film.
"That was the Enchantress," Harley sighed. "She's somekinda nutty witch-ghost-demon thingy that keeps tryin' to possess poor June so she can… I dunno, take over the world or blow it up or something?"
"That's not very specific," Glimmer said.
"Waddya want, kid? I'm a psychiatrist, not an exorcist!" Harley snipped, smacking her phone. June may not have been her patient, but they were still her friend (sorta). Either way she wasn't about to air their trauma out in public. "Great, all the spooky particles in the air must be screwing with reception. We'll have to run back to the farmhouse ta call in the big leagues."
"Is that safe?" Bow asked.
"Relax, hun," Harley said. "Ol' Chanty's probably halfway 'cross the Midwest by-" The sky was suddenly rent by a flash of emerald lightning and a shriek of demoniacal rage. "Or not."
[-]
"DZAMOR'S DROPPINGS!"
The Enchantress swore as the pain surging through her stolen body finally subsided. It had almost been enough to swat her from the air. The crystal sky before her had seemed clear and free before she had been sent reeling by a wall of pure mystic force. The Enchantress unleashed an eldritch bolt, narrowly dodging as it was reflected back at her by a golden ankh.
"Of course," she drawled. "Nabu." The interfering old bucket had placed mystic wards all about the League's precious 'Sanctuary' to bar occult incursions.
Meaning, you're stuck in here.
"Hush, June!" the Enchantress hissed. "Or I promise once I do get out of here, my first stop will be another visit to your parents!"
Silence
"That's better. Now, let me think…" The Enchantress recalled the subtle pressure when she had first crossed Sanctuary's borders. Her connection to June had allowed her to bypass Nabu's barrier. The wards had essentially recognized her and June as the same entity. Thus, since June was already within, there was no reason to keep Enchantress without.
All well and good, but now that she and June were one, she couldn't exploit that particular loophole again. Typical Order magic. She didn't have the raw power to force her way through the wards, nor the time to carefully dismantle them. Ironically, the simplest way to dissipate such wards was to destroy the very thing they were designed to protect.
No… Enchatress, don't…
The demon sorceress's lips curled in a cruel leer as she turned back towards the heart of Sanctuary.
Please, the people down there… They've never done anything to you!
"And since when have I ever let that stop me?" The Enchantress guffawed, riding the wind into the very heart of Sanctuary.
PLEASE! You don't understand what Sanctuary means to them! They depend on it!
"Sorry, June, but you of all people should know…" The Enchantress halted above the old farmhouse, raising pale slender hands as the dark skies above churned like a witch's cauldron. "There are no Safe Spaces."
Emerald lightning arced from ebon clouds. The central maple tree was the first casualty, bursting into green flames as blazing splinters flew in all directions like shrapnel. The farmhouse itself was next, windows shattering with a whip-crack of thunder. Everywhere the Enchantress turned her hand, destruction and havoc spread like wildfire, often literally. Her harsh shattered laughter rose above even the howling winds, reveling in the uninhibited destruction.
"BONZAI!" Quinn's shrill cry rent the air. The Enchantress glanced up, with only the briefest moment for a single question to flash across her mind.
Where in Dzamor's name did she get that mallet?
Harley struck with an earsplitting thwack, sending the Enchantress reeling through the air. The former Clown Princess of Crime whooped triumphantly as she tumbled through the air, before landing on a floating disk of shimmering violet runes.
"You okay!?" Glimmer asked worriedly, piloting the disk.
"You shittin' me!?" Harley beamed, her grin wide and manic. "I wanna do that AGAIN!"
The Enchantress landed in an abandoned pigsty; filth caked to her midnight robes. Just one more indignity for the fleshlings to suffer for. She'd barely staggered to her bare feet when a golden arrowhead detonated behind her, rapidly encasing everything save her face in hardening translucent gelatin.
"Whooo!" Bow fist pumped. "Jello-arrow wins… again?"
His confidence wavered as the block of hardened gelatin began to smoke and bubble before being entirely boiled away by coruscating viridian fire. The enchantress stepped out of the conflagration. She stalked towards the young archer; her form wreathed in tongues of eldritch flames like a halo of searing rage.
"Oh boy," Bow squeaked.
The Enchantress was abruptly knocked off-balance by a barrage of blazing violet bolts.
"HANDS OFF MY BEAU!" Glimmer roared, strafing the Enchantress from her flying glyph-disk as Harley clung on for dear life.
The Enchantress couldn't help but be begrudgingly impressed. If not for the Chaos sorceress' own hastily erected runeshield, the young mage-queen's assault would have easily overpowered her. Still, raw talent was no substitute for experience.
With a few deft flicks of her wrist, the Enchantress altered the runes of her eight-pointed shield, transforming it into a focusing lens. A beam of blinding eldritch light lanced from the shield's 'eye'. The lance of light struck Glimmer's violet glyph disk, shattering it like glass, sending her and Harley tumbling to the ground below.
Catra watched the declining battle from the shadow of the barn, Melog coiling tensely at her feet. She was glad they'd left Angelo and Danny back at the pond to look after the old lady. The two Earth boys would've been way out of their depth in a fight like this.
Adora slumped against the side of the barn, eyes blank, knees still shaking. Catra bent by her side. "Adora, babe, no pressure… but we could really use She-Ra right about now."
"I… I don't think I can…" Adora's voice was low and thin, almost a whisper. "I'm sorry."
"Hey, that's okay." Catra smiled warmly, giving Adora's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Just wait here, I'll be back in just a sec."
Adora nodded wordlessly.
At an imperceptible nod from Catra, Melog cloaked the two felines in an invisibility glamour, leaving Adora as utterly alone as she felt.
Across the farmyard, the Enchantress had reshaped her eldritch flames into a fiery whip, lashing at the currently most irksome target of her ire. "First Joker, then Waller, now the Justice League!? You really will let anyone yank your leash, won't you, Quinzel?!"
"What can I say? I'm a sub at heart!" Harley quipped, keeping one step ahead of the flaming whip before ducking behind a stack of water barrels. Her heart was racing, her breathing ragged. She was getting too old for this kinda thing. "C'mon, Junebug, I know you're still in there! How 'bout cutting your ol' galpal, Harl some slack here?"
"You think that mewling sop can help you?"
With a flick of her wrist, the Enchantress summoned tendrils of emerald mist that wrapped about the invisible Catra and Melog, who had just been in mid-pounce before shimmering back into visibility. The two felines trashed futilely, bound in mid-air. Their bonds were as transparent and faint as mist yet constricted like iron chains.
"June Moone was nothing before I found her! June Moone is nothing!" The Enchantress didn't even break her stride, ignoring the cats for now. "She possessed more raw potential than almost any Homo Magi on this planet, but she'd rather teach incontinent brats to finger paint. From the moment I laid my gaze upon her, I saw June Moone for what she truly was; a weak, sniveling waste of flesh. She's no use to anyone else, she might as well be some use to me."
"Don't you talk about Junebug like that!" Harley growled darkly, knuckles whiter than usual as they clenched about the shaft of her mallet.
"Struck a nerve, did I? But, of course, you'd know all about letting yourself be used," The Enchantress raised her hand, allowing mystic energies to build for the final strike. "Wouldn't you, Quinzel?"
Adora watched in horror from the shadow of the barn, she wanted to move, to stop what was about to happen. She tried to summon her energy sword, but the best she could manage was the palest flicker of magic in her palm, a flicker that quickly died like a flame in an ice wind. Screw the sword. Her friends were about to die. Adora braced herself to rush the Enchantress when-
"WHAHOOO!"
Danny Chase leapt out of nowhere, sending the Enchantress' mystic blast flying wild as he tackled her. He clung to her shoulders like a desperate wildcat to an enraged bullock.
"Danny?!" Harley gawked in shock. "Forgive my inappropriate, insensitive, and unprofessional language but… ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY!?"
"It's okay!" Danny yelled. "I think I got he-" Tendrils of eldritch mist coiled about his limbs, peeling him off his foe like gum from the bottom of a shoe. He flailed helplessly in mid-air.
"I'm starting to think you brats aren't taking me seriously," hissed the Enchantress, her voice a deathly rasp.
The misty tendrils constricted tighter about Danny's limbs, twisting them in ways they were never meant to bend. His teeth clenched as he tried to hold back the screams but, in the end, he was only a twelve-year-old kid.
"DANNY!?" Harley shrieked in abject horror as, with one last sadistic wrench, the Enchantress literally ripped the boy in two.
"Oops, looks like I broke your Pinocchio," chortled Enchantress, sending the two halves of Danny's broken body across the farmyard before turning her attention back to the battle. The upper torso skidded to a halt by what remained of the old maple, twitching wretchedly.
That was too much for Adora, she bolted from her hiding place, dashing to the side of Danny Chase, or what was left of him. She had no idea what she could do for him now, what anyone could do. But she had to try… something.
She braced herself for what she was about to see. For a moment, she thought her brain was simply refusing to process the horror. Where she had thought to see bloody entrails trailing from the boy's broken abdomen, she found instead sleek insulated cables hanging loose. Instead of spurting blood, there snapped hot electrical sparks.
"Danny!" Bow knelt at the mechanical boy's side, examining the damage. "Can you still hear me?"
"UghhZZZT, looks like ah'm half the man ah used ta be?" Danny's released an odd static buzz from his throat. It took Adora a second to realize it was a chuckle.
"Are… are you a robot?" The question sounded stupid to Adora as soon as she voiced it.
Danny smiled weakly, "Only 'bout ninety-five percent o' me, ma'am."
Adora turned to Bow. "You don't seem surprised?"
"He mentioned it while we were talking before," Bow said, frantically stabilizing Danny's systems. "I thought he was joking."
"Whole reason I'm at Sanctuary, ma'am. Well, one o' the reasons. Vic, Red Tornado and Mr. Steele wanted me to get use to m'new bod after they whipped it up for me." Danny sighed, a shockingly organic sound as his voice turned low and bitter. "Desaad didn't leave much of m'old one."
Adora stiffened at mention of the God of Torment. "You were taken to Apokolips?"
"Don't feel bad for me, ma'am." Danny smiled weakly. "Lotta folks never make it outta there at all."
"Is he gonna be okay?" Adora asked, turning to Bow.
"I think so," Bow answered warily, stained to the elbows with greasy lubricant. "Luckily, it looks like the life-support for his organic brain is heavily compartmentalized and has about three different backups. He should be fine until web get Cyborg down here."
"I'm real sorry 'bout all this. If Vic or Vi were here, I could just boot that witch inta the Phantom Zone," said Danny. "I guess tryna tackle her m'self was mighty stupid, wasn't it?"
"You were very brave, Danny," replied Adora quietly, rising to her feet.
Her steel blue eyes cleared as she calmed the storm inside her. She could still feel the fear, the doubt, the guilt, swirling under the surface like a riptide. She knew it would destroy her eventually if left unchecked. But she could ride the waves for now, just for a little longer.
"Wait, where are you going?" Bow asked.
"To be brave too," Adora summoned her energy sword, like unsheathing a moonbeam, raising it high above her head.
"FOR THE HONOR OF GRAYSKULL!"
[-]
Across the farmyard, The Enchantress and Glimmer were locked in a duel of spell and counter-spell, glyphs of shining violet clashing against runes of sickly green.
"Oh, you're very good, darling," trilled the Enchantress, grinning wickedly as she spotted an almost imperceptibly misaligned glyph in Glimmer's shield. "But not quite good enough." The Chaos sorceress struck at the malformed glyph, sending a surge of thaumaturgical feedback cascading through the mage-queen's body.
Glimmer fell back with a scream of pain. She'd barely hit the ground before the Enchantress pounced; pale fingers clamped about the mage-queen's jaw with an inhuman strength that belied their gauntness.
"Such potential, such raw untapped power, in such… untutored hands." The Enchantress' eyes blazed with demoniacal lust as she ran a talon-like nail down Glimmer's cheek. "Perhaps I should consider trading in dear June for a… younger model?"
Glimmer struggled in the Chaos sorceress' grip. The two mages' eyes met, and the Enchantress' cruel leer crinkled into a sneer of disgust as she gazed deeper into the mage-queen's violet orbs.
"What are you?"
Before Glimmer could respond a new voice rang out. "Hey!"
The Enchantress turned to find an eight-foot-tall warrior clad in armor of white and gold, leveling a sword of light directly at her.
"Step. Off." She-Ra's voice was cold as steel. "NOW!"
The Enchantress smirked, casting aside her prey to turn on the Princess of Power. "Oh, look, June!" The demon sorceress chortled. "It's your little friend, Adorabelle… or whatever her name is."
"This is how it's going to go down," She-Ra spoke, tone as level as her blade. "You're going to leave my friends alone. You're going to vacate June's body. And finally, you're going back to whatever pit you crawled out of."
The Enchantress tilted her head in mock bemusement. "Or else?"
"There's no 'or else'."
"Oh, I am all aquiver," crooned the Enchantress. The Chaos sorceress struck like a cobra, fingers like vulture's talons digging into She-Ra's throat. The Princess of Power tried to raise her sword arm, only for the Enchantress to clasp her wrist like a vice. She-Ra's feet kicked at empty air as the floating sorceress dragged her from the ground.
"Did you really think you could defeat me with that shiny penknife?" The Enchantress hissed.
"I don't have to beat you,' She-Ra gasped, a golden nimbus softly suffusing her form. "I just have to save June!"
Before the Enchantress could react, She-Ra raised her free hand, gently cupping the demon sorceress' pale cheek.
[-]
Adora abruptly found herself in the great hall of an ancient castle. It wasn't like the elegant castles of Etheria, all smooth marble and sleek gold, but rather built from blocky slabs of roughhewn stone.
"Well… this is new."
Figures milled or danced about the great hall. Their colors were bright, vibrant; yet their outlines were oddly blurred, undefined, like walking splotches of paint. Adora tapped one on the shoulder. "Umm… excuse me?"
The figure turned, removing a garish mask to reveal smooth mannequin blankness beneath. Adora leaped back in shock, face contorting as she tried to hold tight to her composure.
"Oh… Um… hiiii!"
The costumed mannequin tilted its head bemusedly. "Walla?"
"I… uh… Pardon?"
"Walla walla?"
"Okaaaay, Adora, keep it together. This is only like… the third weirdest thing that's ever happened to you." She turned back to the mannequin. "I'm looking for friend of mine; green sweater, mousey brown hair? You haven't seen them, have you?"
"Walla!" The mannequin chin-pointed across the great hall, where a lone figure sat forlornly in a dim corner, arms wrapped protectively about their bunched legs.
"Thanks," said Adora, letting the mannequin get back to the party. She sat gently by the green-sweater clad femme's side with a quiet smile. "Hey?"
"Hey," June Moone replied without much emotion.
Adora took a minute to take in the bizarre masquerade taking place about her. Now that she really looked, some of the costumed mannequins seem more… defined than others, their outlines sharper, their faces more finished, like clay sculptures in various stages of completion. "What is this place?"
"It's a costume party in Scotland," said June. "It's where I come when the Enchantress is… well, being her."
"It's a memory?"
June nodded. "My last happy one before..."
Adora followed June's gaze across the hall; a second June Moone danced, younger, more vibrant. Past-June was dressed like a cartoon witch, twirling shyly under an oversized pointy green hat. Leading the dance was a man, boyishly handsome, rosy-cheeked and clad in jester's motley. He leaned in to peck the younger Moone affectionately on the cheek.
"Alan," Present-June answered Adora's unspoken question. "He was the love of my life before the Enchantress took him away. You can't imagine what that's like, having some monster crawl inside you and take everything."
"Maybe more than you think." Adora winced. "But I do know that people like the Enchantress never stop taking, not until someone makes them stop. Eventually, she's going to keep hollowing you out until there's nothing left... not even memories."
Adora knelt in front of June, remembering words she herself needed to hear what seemed like a lifetime ago. "You deserve so much more than that, June. You deserve love and happiness too, You deserve to… to draw frogs and teach finger-painting and go to costume parties in weird drafty old castles!"
June snorted, flashing an all too brief smile. "I don't think I can go back to what my life was before."
"Maybe not… Maybe neither of us can go back," admitted Adora, reaching out a hand. "But we can try going forward?"
[-]
The Enchantress was screaming.
Her features distended in rage, pain, and abject terror. She felt the power welling up from somewhere deep inside her stolen shell. It like an ember long thought stamped out, flaring into a roaring flame; or a song rising from a deep abyss, blended with hope and sorrow. It was terrible and beautiful as a newborn star.
The Enchantress clawed at the Princess of Power with impotent desperation. "What… are you… doing… to me!?"
She-Ra's glowing gaze was fixed and immutable, her hands clasped about the demon sorceress' cheeks. "I'm doing nothing to you."
The Enchantress' eyes went wide as she realized who her true enemy was.
"No… No! June, you can't do this! Don't you realize you're nothing without me?!" She threw her head back, black-green ichor seeping from the corners of her lips and eyes like tar as she shrieked hatefully.
"I OWN YOU!"
One by one, the Enchantress felt June Moone's soul burn away the threads that bound it like cobwebs. The Chaos sorceress clung on with every ounce of spite and avarice she could muster, only to realize at the final moment it wouldn't be enough… it would never be enough again.
"Please, June!? I can't go back to the Void!" The Enchantress wailed piteously before the very last thread binding her to the material plane was severed forever. "I caAAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
With one last demoniacal howl, the pale robed form disgorged a pillar of inky darkness and sickly green light into the sky above. For one moment, the heavens turned black as the abyss behind the stars before dispersing to reveal the crystal blue beyond.
She-Ra floated to the tender earth, like a descending angel, cradling a still form wrapped in a green sweater. The golden aura dispersed as they both alighted on the soft grass, leaving only the mortal forms of Adora and June Moone.
June's eyelids fluttered dreamily at first before snapping open with sudden urgency. "Danny!?" She bolted across the ruined farmyard, falling to her knees at the bisected cyborg's body. "Oh, Danny…"
"H-hey, Mx. Moone." Danny smiled lopsidedly, facial servos glitching slightly.
"Danny, I…" June spoke haltingly, a small sob catching in her throat. "I'm so sorry."
"Hey now, I know it weren't you," he said softly, before dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. "'Sides, I'm hopin' I can use this to talk Vic into makin' me taller."
June covered her mouth to stifle a chuckle, before turning back to Adora. "What happened to the Enchantress?"
"She went back where she came from," Adora spoke with soft finality. "Where she'll never hurt you or anyone else ever again."
June nearly choked on her sob, dabbing the corner of her eyes with a green sleave. "Thank you."
Adora nodded wordlessly, turning as Catra and Melog tentatively padded towards her.
"Hey, Adora?" said Catra. "Are you okay?"
"Hey, Catra," Adora halted. "Yeah… I just wanted to say - about blowing up at you earlier, I-"
"Eh, Forget about it. Heck knows I've said wor-" Catra was cut-off as Adora hugged her tight, before breaking down into tears.
"I love you so much," Adora sobbed, holding tight to Catra as though afraid she might blow away in the wind. "But not nearly as much as you deserve."
Catra squeezed back, just as tight. "You're not okay, are you?"
"No… No, I'm not," sniffled Adora quietly. "But… I think I will be."
She gave Catra a last squeeze and wiped her eyes before striding across the farmyard, where a limping Harley was leaning on Glimmer for extra support.
"Dr. Quinzel," began Adora. "I owe you a big apology for what I said before. I'll understand if you say 'no' but I'd really like to give it another try… if you'll have me?"
"Thaaat's great, hunnn," slurred Harley, swaying on her feet. "Jusss lemme finish my naaap…" With that she keeled over, only to be caught by Glimmer.
"Is she…?"
"She's fine, just exhausted," answered Glimmer. "I think."
"Nnngg… Fivvve more minutes, Red," mumbled Harley sleepily.
[-]
Recognized:
Miss Martian-B-Zero-Five.
M'gann emerged from the amber glow of the whirring Zeta-Tube to find herself standing in a half burned down barn. "Holy C'eridy'all! What happ-" She halted, before being rushed by Adora, Glimmer, Catra, June, and an elderly woman she didn't even recognize.
"-giant glowly pillar of doom!"
"-tore Danny in half then-"
"-my poor Chester!?"
M'gann threw her arms up in exasperation. "One at a time, please!"
It took about seven minutes for them to bring her up to speed on what had happened, another four minutes to relay all that back to the watchtower, and five more minutes to Zeta in Cyborg and 'A33' to check on Danny, Harley, and Mrs. Kramer (not to mention relieve Bow and Angelo from their impromptu field medic duties in the farmhouse).
"I'm sorry you all had to go through that," said M'gann once she'd had a moment to process. "We didn't even realize Enchantress had breached Sanctuary."
Catra cocked her head. "Wait, isn't that why you're here?"
"I wish it was." M'gann eyed the Etherians. "We should talk somewhere private."
[-]
M'gann locked the door of the farmhouse study behind her, Adora, Glimmer, Catra, Bow and Melog. She telekinetically drew the curtains, dimming the golden light of the evening sun into an ochre haze.
"Around the time Enchantress manifested, your ship, Darla, intercepted a distress call from Etheria. She then immediately began flooding all communications frequencies with it from inside the Watchtower's hanger," said M'gann. "I don't know how self-aware Darla is, but Cyborg swore it was almost like she was panicking. It took him hours just to calm her down enough to clear our channels. That's why I wasn't here sooner."
"Distress call?" Adora asked.
"See for yourself."
M'gann pulled out a portable holo-projector, placing it on a coffee table. It clicked to life, projecting the image of a weary-looking man in torn purple robes. His broad face was framed by a black-grey beard, his dark eyes haunted as he leaned on his mage staff for support.
"Dad?" Glimmer whispered fearfully as Bow placed an arm around her.
"This is King Micah of Bright Moon, requesting any and all aid! Invaders have laid siege to the castle; we've lost contact with the other kingdZZKT!" The hologram flickered for a moment, looking small and faint. "Glimmer, if you can hear me, I-"
Holo-Micah's voice was suddenly drowned out by a hateful shriek. He responded by launching a mystic-bolt from his staff at something outside the holo's field view, before staggering back. He was swiftly replaced by a holographic Parademon, its eyeless maw frozen in an expression of ravenous hunger before the playback cut-off.
"The transmission ends there," said Miss Martian somberly.
"I knew this would happen," said Adora, turning to address her comrades. "We need to get back to Etheria before Darkseid can-" She halted, noticing the guilty looks in their eyes. "What?"
"Adora," said Bow hesitantly. "It's not Darkseid."
"Then who…?"
Catra took a deep breath and rested her hand on Adora's arm, bracing them both for what came next. "There's something you need to know."
[-]
THE IRON FIST
June 28, 01:20 UCT
Etheria hung within the frame of the holoscreen. So vulnerable, so fragile, like a thing of stained glass. General Vundabar, in his newly pressed white and gold uniform, stood on the new flagship's command deck.
"Ground forces are fully deployed, Herr Prime," he reported. "The invasion has begun."
From upon His throne, Horde Prime smiled.
[-]
OA
June 28, 01:21 UTC
"Welcome to the Galactic Science Prison. I'm Probationary Lantern Tomar-Tu," spoke the young Xudarian genially, clicking his beak.
Oa, homeworld of the Guardians and headquarters of the Green Lantern Corps hung in the panoramic window behind Tomar's desk, an amber orb set against the tightly packed stars of the galactic core.
"They're perps, probie, not tourists," grunted an exasperated Kilowog. "Ya don't gotta be polite, just book 'em already." The veteran Lantern had just completed the third prisoner transport all the way from Earth in as many months and wasn't in the mood for Tomar's usual passion for protocol.
"Um… yes, of course, Lantern Kilowog, one moment…" Tomar's Power Ring flashed a bright verdant light, initiating a scan of the first prisoner.
Identity: Desaad, God-Scientist and Chief Torturer of Apokolips.
Species: New God.
Criminal Record: Processing…
Processing…
Processing…
71,5216 separate charges of crimes against sapience.
"Is that all?" Desaad leered. The inhibitor collar and Corps issue hyper-cuffs did little to curb the immortal's arrogance. "I must be slowing down in my old age."
"Yuk it up, poozer. With your rap sheet, you'll be lucky to make parole before Heat Death." Kilowog gave the God of Torture a rough shove to hurry him along as Tomar scanned the next prisoner.
Identity: Unknown
Species: Unknown
"Hmm… that's unusual…" Tomar clucked his beak perplexedly. "I beg your pardon, Mx, but do you mind stating your name and species for our records?"
"I'm whatever you want me to be, cutie," purred Double Trouble, leaning over Tomar's desk as they coquettishly nictitated their membranes at him.
"I… uh…"
Tomar froze, blood rushing to his cranial fin as he fought down the urge to fidget with his ring. He'd read the Book of Oa back to front at least sixteen times, memorized over four hundred Corps by-laws, but had no idea how to respond. A prisoner had never flirted with Tomar before! Nobody had ever flirted with Tomar before! Should he laugh it off, ignore them? He had to say something before the pause got awkward, or they'll think he's weird.
"Oh, for Branwilla's sake," Kilowog groaned. "Probie, get 'em off the desk already!"
Desaad snickered low.
Kilowog rounded on him. "Somethin' funny, creep?"
"Only this bureaucratic farce." Desaad's lip curled in a wicked smile. "We both know how this will end, Lantern. When my Master comes for me, your masters will half-heartedly rattle their sabers for a bit. But inevitably, to maintain their precious status quo, they will have no choice but to acquiesce and release me. So do all things inexorably bend to the will of Dread Darkseid."
Kilowog glared down at the Apokoliptan, his tusk-like jowls trembling with seeming fury before…
"BWAHAHAHAHA!"
The Bolovaxian Lantern nearly doubled over, his bawling laughter echoing off the walls of the satellite prison. "Oh, that is fracking beautiful." Kilowog wiped a tear from his ruby eye. "Ya hear that, kid? Ol' 'Deslime' here didn't get the memo!?"
Desaad's eyes darkened with fury, he was unaccustomed to being mocked. "What are you babbling about, swine?"
"Ya didn't hear? Apokolips is under new management on account o' Big Daddy Darkseid bein' space dust."
"No… that's… that's not possible!" Desaad blanched. "YOU LIE!"
"Believe it, poozer," replied Kilowog, deathly serious. He jabbed the New God with a thick digit to punctuate every word of what came next. "Darkseid is dead. Which means ain't nobody, but nobody, comin' ta save your greasy, sick, twisted-"
Everyone nearly toppled over as the satellite lurched to one side. Kilowog quickly staggered upright in the flickering light, bracing himself against a wall as the fluctuating artificial gravity played havoc with his equilibrium.
"Probie, what the krast was that?!"
"External sensors offline!" Tomar frantically worked his console. "My best guess is some kind of sub-space disruption. But that would take a craft of massive size dropping into real space almost on top of us."
"Ya mean like that?" Kilowog pointed past Tomar, to the great panoramic window where Oa had been utterly eclipsed by the looming shadow of the Warworld.
"Oooh…" Double Trouble thrilled. "Plot twiiist!"