Disclaimer: I do not own Thundercats 2011.
Betaed by: Zim'sMostLoyalServant & Trackula
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Chapter V
Downfall
Soon the battle would be joined; all was in motion. Grune stood atop the battlements of Thundera's walls, as if surveying the enemy that was lurking in sight but beyond the range of Thundera's trebuchets. Huh, he murmured, once marveling at siege engines and the destruction they could cause. Much like the manor house had once seemed so grand and enormous…
The Sabre wondered what wonders would expand his horizons and ambitions in the days to come.
He could almost pity the Cats looking to him with admiration, likely seeing him as some grand image here of a glorious Cat warrior silhouetted against the night sky, looking upon an enemy force he was about to do battle with. They had no idea he had outgrown their petty kingdom and its adulation.
Turning, he looked over the preparation. All seemed well. He had long learned the value of delegation. In his opinion, few things were worse in war than commanders trying to control everything. It was also practical as a way to weed out the promising and capable soldiers from the chafe.
And he spotted a familiar veteran making a straight line for him down the wall. That one was not supposed to be here.
The downside of a loose command style was it could allow some Cats to forget basic facts. Such as a loosely held chain of command, was still binding. Apparently, a firm yank was in order.
He made his way down from the wall. Armored soldiers stood aside for him, standing at attention. He did not need to bother acknowledging them; he was an elite and a living legend. At a time like this, petty manners were practically expected to be forgotten over such a class gap.
He could almost hear Panthro giving a brief word to send them on their way. And Grune knew what he would say, and the familiar brief banter to follow. Yes, there really had been no path to bring Panthro into the new era, had there? For all his stoicism, he would spare those few words to acknowledge those so far beneath him despite it gaining him nothing.
Panthro's tragic sacrifice, Grune could not escape, but also could not blame himself as it was simply necessary.
His pursuing subordinate followed him behind a supply building, deserted. It was almost time; Grune did not like having to needlessly alter plans just before loosing his bolt.
"Maultus," Grune growled, as he addressed the Cat behind him.
"General," the Cougar said. Grune glanced back at the Cat with a hook in place of his missing claw.
"You have your orders, if you had news, you would have said so," Grune said.
"Sir, I would be better on any other assignment. Terus can wrangle one scrawny Feralli," the veteran griped.
"Yes, he should be sufficient," Grune said, turning and walking to the other soldier. Maultus sighed in relief, letting down his guard.
Grune grabbed him by the tunic and threw him back into the wall. Maultus caught himself on the impact to keep his feet, but the iron grasp of Grune's claw clamped about his neck. Grune pressed his head into the wall, glaring down at the smaller Cat.
"And sufficient is not good enough. If that part of the operation goes sour, it could splash a lot of litter on our nip. And it could even anger him; not for her, of course. But because he has made it very clear he expects nothing less than our absolute best effort. And if any lack effort leads to any failure… You do remember what happened to Kurrai?" Grune whispered, eyes narrowing to slits.
"Yes," Maultus gasped around the near chokehold
"Yes, what?" Grune demanded.
"Yes, I will obey," Maultus gasped. Grune released his grip and patted him on the shoulder as he took great breaths, wobbling on slightly bent knees.
"Excellent! Remember, we Cats have to watch each other's backs. That's what got us through that horrid quest, and that's what's going to win us all more power and plunder than we could ever have hoped for. It would be tragic to miss out on all that because you let some petty vanity trip you up," Grune said reassuringly.
Grune didn't let his smile slip until the cat was out of sight.
XXX
This was not a good idea, but she had no good ideas right now.
Her prince was anxious, which meant WilyKit was anxious. Getting out of his presence did not make her feel better, and it took an effort to keep her tail from twitching in response. Carrying the tray through the corridors, she pondered how to handle this.
She had basically pilfered the strongwine in the tumbler from the post-battle demi-banquet the Steward and Majordomo were organizing. It seemed a strange affair, not a proper celebration, as the Cats coming back would be too tired for full revelry, but still… something? Small wonder the slaves and servants were scrambling, half wondering what exactly they were to do.
This sort of thing was not supposed to happen in Thundera itself, after all.
It didn't help that the pantries and cellars had already been hit by the recent festivities. The Keeper of Coin's staff had apparently lost more than one Counter to tremors, to believe the rumors.
So no one had challenged her getting strong alcohol after she said it was for the Crown Prince.
Now she was alone in the corridors, as even the usual guards for the royal wing seemed to have been called elsewhere. It was a solitude she didn't care for, but for which allowed her to quicken her pace, reaching Prince Lion-O's chambers.
She let out the sigh she had been holding before opening the door.
Entering to the familiar sight of her prince pacing away like a snarf in a cage brought some relief. Though she had hoped he would settle down some while she was gone.
He didn't seem to notice her return, as she went to his desk and carefully moved some sheets scrawled with notes to make room for the tray. She poured the dark liquid into the one silver cup. Not even a little watered down; she needed to calm him quickly.
"You must be thirsty, my prince," WilyKit said, offering him the cup. Getting him drunk would not help, but he was just chasing his tail, and she was worried he might catch it. So with no good plan, any plan seemed good, she had decided.
What else could she do? She was just a slave with the job of minding her prince and fetching things for him. And what else could she fetch that might help even a little besides strong drink?
"This is how it's always going to be, isn't it? I mess up somehow, and get left behind while other cats grudgingly clean up the mess. You know Kit, I once heard my mother was expecting a girl, a princess for Tygra to marry. Do you suppose my father wishes that had happened? A failure of a daughter might not shame him so much, something hidden behind Tygra," he ranted, still pacing. She had heard such things, and it made her more than a little queasy. Besides, things were as they were as decreed by the Sky Cat and other Forces, a princess instead of prince would be as ridiculous as her being born a lioness herself.
He was too tense, and he would only wind himself tighter. So she stepped up to him to offer the chalice. He did take it, but stopped before drinking it.
"This isn't the usual. That's strongwine isn't it?" he said.
"Yes, Master," she said, tail tucking down.
"Heh, so I'm supposed to drown my sorrows? Did Father order you to grab that?" Lion-O demanded.
"No, my Prince," she said.
"Then why would you get it?" he demanded quietly.
"It's been known to calm Cats, Master," she answered.
"I am calm!" he yelled, shoving the cup nearly into her chest. The strongwine splashed some drops, hitting her tunic as she grabbed it before he withdrew his claw.
"What, you think I'm going to cause trouble, and a drunk prince is less trouble than a sober one? Lion-O, so much trouble when he's sober that drunk he can't possibly be worse?" he demanded.
"I only-" she started.
"Quiet! I'm sick of everyone looking down on me, even in pity. I'm not some cub that even his slave has to pity," he said. Turning back to her, she reflexively held out the cup to him again.
A mistake. He smacked it out of her hand.
"I don't need a drink and I don't need a kittensitter. Get out of here!" Lion-O ordered.
Kit bowed quickly. He was a lion, after all. She retreated to her adjacent chambers, and only after closing her door let herself slump.
The other slaves had warned her early on — never forget, however kind, the master is the master and you are the slave.
And still she had failed. What else could she have done for him?
XXX
Flesh parted and charred as lightning and steel ripped through it. The Lizard's scream cut off as Claudus sent its head to the ground, joining its arms. Stomping his foot down on the fresh corpse, Claudus roared to the heavens and stepped forward into the next hissing challenger adorned with bones and leather.
This, this was what he had been crafted for. Away from politics, economics, and thoughts of decay for the future and regrets for the past. He was here, a Lion reveling in the massacre. The wondrous simplicity of the apex predator dominating all before it.
Rage flared as he realized there were no enemies around him. He roared at their retreating backs. How dare they?!
"Father, that was incre-" a Cat said, running up to him. The King whirled on the young challenger, baring his fangs.
His son's startled face brought him back like a bucket of cold water.
One breath, then another. And another. The Wrath receded. Claudus resisted the urge to put a claw to his face. He had almost lost himself to the Wrath for a time; too old, no excuses for failing to control Lion's blood.
"You fought well, my son," Claudus said, taking in Tygra's stained and battered armor. It was a lie — Claudus had no time to pay attention to his son in such a place. But it was a proper lie, the kind parents and teachers need to make.
The smile he returned at the winded young Cat's happiness was no lie though.
"My King!" Grune called, riding up. Claudus was surprised Grune had kept his mount. It wasn't like him, but then his years in the Outlands may have made the Sabre a more cautious fighter.
"They retreat, no, they route! But Slythe still lives! Scouts report spotting his banner in the far rear. If we commit our reserves, we can run them all down," Grune reported.
"That would deplete the walls," Claudus noted. Yes, he saw things seemed to be in good order, but still. Battles were living things, and momentum could-
"Father, they're running away from the walls!" Tygra pointed out. Claudus frowned at the impertinent tone. But it was a valid point, and what Cat didn't forget protocol at that age when his blood was running hot?
And his son was right, wasn't he? Grune even nodded behind the young Cat's back. Giving support, but not in such a way as to stroke Tygra's ego more than it needed.
It was time to kill that Lizard.
The King nodded and strode forward, sword raised, lightning pouring forth to draw everyone's attention.
"Call out the might of the Pride, tear them all apart. Bring me Slythe alive. The Sword of Omens itself will take his head!" Claudus called out, holding the Sword of Omens high.
His troops roared in approval, and he let lighting dance along the blade. Yes, even if only on this battlefield he could feel all was right with the world.
XXX
Sylthe lowered the binoculars, the sound of the lens retracting oddly mundane now. How quick the wondrous becomes taken for granted. And the obscene.
He could still make things out well enough with bare eyes now, anyway. The Cat reserves had poured out. The slaughter was beginning anew as the Sacrifice Force was ripped apart in the water fields before Thundera.
"Sire?" the gunner asked.
Slythe reached to his belt and pulled out the gun there. He pointed the gun skyward, adjusting his stance slightly on the metal beneath him.
"Everything changes. Time for you to finally fall," he whispered.
Squeezing the trigger, the flare shot up, kicking his arm slightly with force. And burst into a red star in the sky.
Smiling, he braced himself as the mass moved slightly beneath him, and other behemoths likewise adjusted themselves, picking their targets, amidst the trees. He wondered if any Cat would notice the flare and take it as an omen?
Well that question would be answered momentarily.
This night was about to get very bright.
XXX
'Knock, be a real Cat and knock,' Lion-O told himself, looking at Kit's door.
The palace seemed deserted. There were no guards or servants in the corridor to see him staring at the door. Thank the Sky Cat for small favors.
He really couldn't do anything right, it seemed. Even Tygra likely would have handled that better.
'Sorry Jaga, they may be right,' he thought. After all, what kind of King would take out their temper on someone who had nothing to do with it?
'She may be the only real friend I have, and she's only around because she has no choice.'
He should just knock and apologize. So why didn't he? No right words? Or maybe he was too much a "Great Cat" that apologizing to a slave on top of everything else today would be too much? He really, really hoped it was the first one.
Whiskers, when had his life gotten so mixed up?
He needed to get out.
Of all the things people might say, from Tygra calling him a coward to Grune's laughing and making some quip that was directed toward her but cut him, he could best hear Jaga. Sometimes, when there is no path in sight, the best thing to do is find another place to stand.
At least it would keep him from messing up anymore for the time being. It was not like she wouldn't be there when he got back.
XXX
When the knock came, WilyKit was lounging on her cot. Not sleeping, but still, her left eye opened in reaction to the rapping on wood.
WilyKit had been expecting the knock, so she had been quick to change into a clean tunic. The stained one was probably ruined. It would be replaced, of course, but she would still somehow get an earful for letting her prince stain her good clothes.
And now he was coming to apologize, and manage to trip over himself doing so. She would accept, of course. As his slave, she had to, didn't she? Sweet gestures most wouldn't bother with or not…
She was still collared with all that came with it.
'Oh, don't wallow!' she chastised herself, springing off her cot to her feet, 'The Sky Cat has given you a kinder fate than most. You as good as dump garbage and used litter on those cats when you complain of your comfy spot.'
She answered the door, and was not greeted by her prince.
A pair of Cougars in elite soldier armor stood outside her door. She vaguely recognized them, and they were not part of the castle guard.
"Excellent. Slave, by order of the King, you are to come with us to a secure location," the one that held himself a tad taller said.
A slave knew to obey, and while she was a royal slave, this was an elite and a Cougar, so she was outranked in every way without a royal here to contradict. And he said it was an order from the King.
Except, she had not always been a slave. And as brief as her time as a slum stray was, it had drilled lessons into her alongside her brother. This was wrong, and her tail hairs stood stiff with a simple thought.
Danger.
They lunged; they weren't lazy guards. They must have read her a moment before she acted. One stopped her from slamming the door, catching it on his shoulder. The other grabbed for her, but his friend got in the way, letting her leap back onto her bed.
The first one rushed in. Grabbing her reading lantern from its ceiling chain, she swung it toward his face. He batted it aside; it didn't break, setting him on fire as she had hoped.
She darted past him, ducking under his swipe, but he turned and grabbed her tunic. These were not drunks or thugs in the slums, and she was out of practice. WilyKit was stopped for a second, but he had fortunately sharpened his claws recently. The tunic tore, and she ran without it, no thought for modesty as the remnant fell away.
The other Cougar grinned, she saw him now filling the door. Between his legs, she thought frantically.
It wasn't even close, he had realized what she was going to do. He grabbed tight, one claw on each shoulder, legs lifted just off the floor. Caught, and her state of undress flashing in her mind like lightning as the Cougar grinned at his catch.
"Ha! Stupid tailer. Cooperate, and I understand things will go quite well for you!" the Cougar laughed.
WilyKit struck without thought, which later she assumed was why it worked. Her right foot lashed out and she smirked savagely as it didn't find any armor.
"GRAR!" he cried out. He went to his knees, partially slamming her legs into the floor, but to her wide-eyed surprise his grip only tightened on her.
His eyes went wide and wild, baring his fangs.
"Maultus! Wait-" The other Cougar cried out, before her captor head-butted her.
White light flashed, then all was darkness.
XXX
Claudus heard a screech through the night as they cut through the lingering Lizards. He looked about, wishing he had not abandoned his mount. He was not tall enough to see far above this press.
That sound? A whistle signal? The cry of some ally levy Slythe was calling in?
Where was that Lizard anyway? Had he fled, the enemy would not be putting up such resistance.
He caught sight of Grune, his mount rearing up. He was about to call out to the General if he saw anything.
Then the world exploded around him.
All was fire and thunder.
XXX
WikyKat had set up his comfy chair and drinking table on the roof of an atypically high slum tenancy. He had acquired the property some time ago. After all, from here you could see Thundera spread out as best as was possible in the slums.
And from this perch, he sipped wine stolen covertly from the royal wine cellars, watching the explosions beyond the walls. He could see only the flash and then smoke, and the cries were likely in his head.
"Thunder, thunder," he chuckled, moving his cup in the beginnings of the old gesture against evil. What a glorious noise.
Red panted to his right, staring vacantly out at the city; his head hadn't even turned at the tech weapon being unleashed. He had truly been a great find in the slums. The monkey, on the other hand…
"WOAHAHAHA! So big and loud!" the primate cackled, dancing about clapping, "But boss! Don't you think it would be better to shelter? You are the thinker, not the tough, yes?"
"Hide now? It's not every day you get to watch an empire fall," WilyKat said. He raised his cup in a salute as the bombs went off across the city. He smiled and drained the cup, drinking in the unraveling of it all.
Though, shouldn't the palace have exploded more in that area?
He dismissed it — he was probably just overestimating the bombs' effectiveness against the best masonry, or a malfunction of some kind had occurred. The tech was not perfect, a very important thing to keep in mind.
Letting the thought and the plans slip away for a moment, WilyKat relaxed in his chair, watching Thundera burn.
XXX
Tygra came to, blinking spots from his eyes.
'What?… The battle!' The Prince sprang to his feet, hand fumbling for his belt dagger.
"Sky Cat's claws," he heard his father say.
XXX
Had he been drinking? Or had a sparring match gone bad? Grune probably, it had been years since Tygra had beaten him this badly this hard. Feeling a rock pressing up against his cheek, Lion-O pushed himself off the stones, and forced his eyes open.
"Oh whiskers!" he cursed, eyes snapping wide. He was in the outer courtyard, and more outer than ever, because there was a big hole where the wall left of the gate had been.
"What…" he glanced around, getting to his feet. He saw it there on the ground. A piece of tech, just like the one he had bought on his last trip to the slums.
That's right, he had been walking, and thought he heard something. This one had been on the base of his father's coronation statue, blinking oddly. He had pushed the large button, and it stopped blinking and had somehow released its adhesion.
Puzzled and feeling something was quite off, he had headed for the main gate to report something or other to the shift captain.
He had almost been there when he noticed that same blinking by the walls.
"Whiskers," he muttered, looking to the tech. It was like in some of the texts, 'stone-shattering fire from metal'?
Thunder, but wrong. Lion-O ran to the breach, and saw the city was burning. And as he watched, a shooting star seemed to crash down, sending flames and debris flying in the midtown.
"Gate Captain! What's going on!" Lion-O called up toward the wall above him. Standing on the rubble, he heard no answer.
Why wasn't the palace in a panic? Guards and even servants should be rushing to investigate.
A whistling sound smacked his ears and he watched with horror as another shooting star hurtled nearly straight overhead of him. Though for a second, he thought he saw some kind of giant arrow leaving the fire in its wake.
It struck the Sky Cat Head, shattering it. Before his eyes, the massive sculpture that had watched over Thundera for generations came apart, its head falling in two pieces, which crashed down on the easternmost wing of the palace.
What in the name of the Sky Cat's own Whiskers?!
And Lion-O realized there were nearer fires.
"The battle! Father!" Lion-O realized. Scooping up the tech, he dashed out into the city. He wasn't sure what he could do, but the world had gone mad and he knew his father and brother would be in the thick of it.
XXX
Tygra looked around, where was the army?
"Well, that was something. And it's about to get worse," Grune spoke up. Somehow he had kept his mount, which was pacing nervously; he really was a superb rider.
Then the first stepped beyond the tree line and began to advance.
There were no words, masses of vegetation and the sound of trees snapping like in a gale. Then the foliage fell away, revealing Lizards clinging to something.
"Impossible," Tygra whispered, as the dying light shone upon metal giants with massive spears mounted on their shoulders.
Then chariots without pullers cut around them, zipping across the terrain, kicking up dirt as the giants continued their thunderous advance. The chariots were filled practically to bursting with spear-wielding Lizards.
Grune spurred his mount forward, toward the Lizards.
"Grune!" Claudus called, but was ignored. And when the chariots reached Grune, he turned his mount dramatically, and around him the vehicles stopped, forming a half circle with Grune at its head.
The Lizards leveled their strange spears at Tygra and his father, but not at Grune, who calmly dismounted.
"Grune?" Tygra asked.
"Ah, Claudus. Judging by that look, you have figured it out. The reason you survived that bombardment right now was because you were so close to me," Grune chuckled.
Tygra was jolted by a strange sound. Turning, he saw the source — it was his father, fangs bared, growling as he had never heard, the Sword of Omens began to flare with lightning as the King took a step forward, eyes locked on Grune. The Lizards stepped back, Grune did not. And then the laugher started.
One Lizard stepping into sight, broad, stockily built, and frilled, wearing the sleek finery of battle. Tygra had never seen him before, but he had seen the sketches several times. Slythe, the Lizard king.
"Yes, Claudus, this is what it feels like to be bested. Can you even see that even if you killed us, all your army is shattered and beaten? Your city is burning."
Tygra was stunned, but yes, he saw it. Thundera… How? The fire stars?
This, this was a nightmare. How? It wasn't possible.
"Ha! How quickly things change for the Cats! One day, top predator. The same night, endangered species," Slythe laughed.
His father let out a breath and his eyes focused, passing over the spear-wielding Lizards with the red goggles on. Grune tossed his mace away as two Lizards carried up a massive golden club. Grune took it and lifted it one-handed; it split into three sections, green lightning playing over it.
"Your first payment, as promised," Slythe said.
"Sure, it's impressive looking. But is the gold plating too much, maybe?" Grune said, giving the weapon a practice swing.
"So you would betray Thundera, your species… for this tech?" the King demanded. Grune glanced to the enraged King, giving a casual smile, as if he had forgotten the Lion was here for a moment.
"My allegiance to you took me as far as it could. I've simply traded up. But for old times' sake, I suppose I might give you a warrior's death rather than what these Lizards would do," Grune mused.
"I don't care. So long as he is dead," Slythe guffawed.
"You two seem to have forgotten one thing. I left the Clerics in reserve."
Lightning flashed from the ground, and fire sprouted from a giant, sending it crashing to its knees.
"Form ranks!" Slythe called out, as Tygra fell into position with his father, prepared for battle.
XXX
Cheetara wanted to run full force, to reach top speed. To leave the world behind as a Cheetah was meant to. But she kept formation, conserved her stamina. She was a Cleric — discipline, perception, and understanding was what she was meant to use.
Striking an enemy at high speeds was no small thing; even a trained Cat's body risked sharing the breaking force of a controlled collision. They cut through the Lizards like scythes, circling around the two royals and even half tossing straggler Cat survivors into the area in a crude method of regrouping.
Jagga was attacking the giants alone, striking them down with pure magic force. Other Clerics were striking the joints, following logical courses for weaknesses.
Then General Grune swung his massive mace perfectly, timing the motion just right. To practically cleave a Cleric seeking the traitor's head in half.
Feli, fond of pointless little races and stupid bets with laughably small stakes. His stupid cackling silenced with a final attempt at an audacious act.
No time to dwell on loss. In battle, a Cleric could outrun grief to focus on the goal.
And the Lizards circled, regrouping as the Clerics came around for another pass. And en masse, burning light shot out from their spears in a volley. Taking to the sky was too risky, so she went under, as the others did. But it cost speed.
The forest tore open with the sound of metal and tearing wood, and she dared a glance to see what horror was emerging now.
Faster, she needed to go faster.
XXX
Claudus left the Lizard to fall dead to the ground, retreating to the crude phalanx that was forming as the Clerics flowed around them.
This was insane! Those spears seemed to shoot fire, or something like bolts. His armor had stopped three well enough to only char spots on his torso.
And Grune was holding his own, directing the enemy against the Clerics, the Cats and royals seemingly forgotten.
That wouldn't last. He needed to take charge, they were too vulnerable. Tech was real, and it was as terrible as those texts of Lion-O's often implied.
Walls, a defensive position. And they needed to find out what had happened in the city.
'Lion-O!' Claudus froze, looking to the palace which was obscured by night and the rising smoke.
Something tore out of the forest. A massive siege engine tore over the fields toward the phalanx. Again pulled by nothing but a massive thing like a building almost. He was certain it ran down a few Lizard stragglers. To his surprise, it ran past them, skidding to a halt.
There was something on top of this strange, moving rig. With a click, pale light came on somewhere on the strange tech, and illuminated the oddity. Two poles, and bound between them, slumped in chains but still on his feet…
"Panthro!?" Claudus cried out in disbelief. The General stirred, eyes opening and looking to Claudus, but did not rise in his bindings. Claudus saw lacerations and half-healed wounds across the General's mighty frame.
Marks of torture, not battle.
"He's alive," Claudus whispered. That was most important now.
"Yes, Panthro and many of our subordinates did not quite warm up to my plans for Thundera. Tragic, really, but at the very least, I could take Panthro home, to share in Thundera's fate," Grune gloated.
Claudus looked around for the traitor, feeling his Wrath rising again, driving away the aches of the battle and battering.
It made sense, now that he had a moment to think. Even with this revelation, he had not yet considered Panthro in this new light. What had Grune said? "An enemy even he could not overcome"? That being Grune, a traitor. Grune had even admitted it was after Panthro's "death" they had turned for home!
'I am like a fool snark chasing a mirror spot!' Claudus thought furiously.
Grune climbed onto the rig, taking to the top, standing beside the bound Panthro.
It was unreal. Even in all this, the thought that Grune would torment Panthro seemed the most absurd. Then the rig started moving, tearing over the battlefield, back toward the city.
"I think Panthro's homecoming has been delayed long enough, eh Claudus?! Thundera burning will make a fine final sight!" the traitor cackled.
"NO!" Claudus roared. He broke from the line, chasing after the rig, the traitor, and his friend.
"Father! You can't leave the Clerics' protection!" Tygra yelled.
"Stay here! I have to save Panthro!" Caludus called.
He did not look back to see neither Tygra nor the other warriors disregard the order, retreating and trying to cover him as the Clerics were pressed back by still more giants emerging onto the battlefield.
XXX
The Lizard spat on the Cat guard's unseeing eye. The Feralli was calling, telling them to hurry. Walking up out of the slave warren after the others, Kalss was not pleased to follow a low rank Cat's order, but these Feralli had killed the guards.
Emerging into the night, he had expected cool air, instead he was greeted with fires. Drawing back in shock, he realized the fire was some distance, the wind was carrying the heat.
Thundera was burning.
His kin started cheering. What?
The elder slave of the warren shoved a spear into his hand, and smirked.
"Elder?"
"No more cowering, Kalss, we're throwing it all off," the Elder said.
XXX
The candelabra was where the young Bobcat had left it. Her siblings stopped along with her as she knelt, considering the bent silverwork.
"Well, it's not three centuries an antique now," she said to the old Leopard in his finery, while running a claw over her collar, "But still silver. Who knew your skull was that thick still, master?"
She did not bother with a kick, but pulling a knife off her belt, she started sawing away for the gold and ruby ring he had griped so many years about being too tight to remove.
XXX
Guardsman Deruis was deaf. The shock had passed when he noticed the entrance to the shelter had been blocked by the collapsed wall section. The place of safety could well be a tomb soon if the vents were also damaged.
He had not looked for his spear. He had attacked the rocks, casting them aside, calling out words he couldn't hear. For help to save the Cats under his protection. His duty to the pride narrowed in this moment to saving Cats that may already be dead.
XXX
Thundera was in chaos. Lion-O was running across rooftops along the grand avenue toward the broken gate. Even beyond the fires, he saw Cats running around. Cats killing. Even a trio of Lizards with spears carrying a formal gown, of all things, like it was a hostage in some melodrama.
He should stop, like at the sound of some elder crying out and cut off as he leapt over a courtyard when inconvenient architecture forced to him to divert.
But it was too much! He just had to stay on target, and then he would find his bearings.
At least Kit was safe back at the palace.
Then something broke through the remains of the gate and tore up the avenue.
Lion-O skidded to the halt.
XXX
The rig had stopped on the grand avenue. Claudus ran through the path it had cleared in the gates. Sky Cat's claws, he thought. Thundera…
Grune's laughter kept him from being distracted. The traitor was practically lounging next to his captive, leaning on his new weapon.
Doors slid open on the siege engine beneath where Grune stood, and a squad of lizards with those tech spears rushed out. Claudus turned at the noise, and a trio of those chariots rolled in behind him. Those Lizards did not dismount, but they were pointing those large rods at him.
"Well, Claudus, looks like that Lion courage has not served you well. But I suppose a failure to adapt is to be expected. You were born atop the structure that was Thundera, you simply had to learn your role. Not me, though — a Sabre is politely regarded as a Great Cat, but not such that we could expect anything more than grunt work. A role like that, you learn to adapt and seize whatever advantage comes into reach. And I realized as soon as I saw this…" Grune said, hefting his weapon and activating its lightning. His grin, illuminated by the green light, made the snaggletoothed Sabre seem demonic.
"I realized the only way to compete was to have your own. No tech means no chance, in this new reality. Maybe I should just let the Lizards gun you down like the relic you are," Grune mused.
"No," Panthro objected. Grune actually turned at that. And Claudus saw what he missed; something was thrown from the rooftop to their left. Was it blinking red?
It struck the center chariot with a clank.
The chariot exploded in red fire, nearly knocking the King over. A Cat leapt down beside him, dagger drawn and rushed at the confused Lizards. Claudus joined him, roaring. The Lizards were flatfooted, they were on them before they raised their accursed spears again.
It was simple butcher's work; these were raw troops.
"Oh whiskers! Oh whiskers," the young Lion muttered.
"Lion-O," Claudus realized who he was fighting beside.
XXX
Lion-O vomited onto the pavement. And his right boot. Oh whiskers.
"Lion-O!" Father called.
"Father, tech's real," Lion-O answered. He wasn't sure where he had been going with that.
The sound of battle drew his attention. Huh, Tygra was still alive, and some other ragged Cats were overrunning the chariots.
"I know. Excellent work there. Go to your brother now — more Lizards will be coming, and you've been in the city, any intelligence is precious. I will deal with Grune," Claudus said. Without another word, he was away, roaring a challenge and using the open door in the thing to scale it and parry Grune's green energized strike with his own lighting casting blade.
"Well, there's something you don't see every day," Lion-O sighed. Still, Panthro was alive.
And then a gaggle of spear wielding Lizards charged out of an alley at him as Tygra and his force rushed up the avenue, roaring murder.
XXX
Claudus answered Grune's bared fangs with his own, and heaved. It was a small slip, but Grune's mace shifted, and his poor footing and the momentum did the rest.
Claudus disengaged and struck for Grune's exposed throat, but the Sabre was quick as ever, twisting away from the blow before falling out of sight. The urge to leap after him and take his head before he recovered was resisted. Panthro, free Panthro first. If Grune killed him, Panthro would still be trapped, but together they could kill that traitor for certain.
The half healed wounds across the General's body, even his brow, would have angered the King if his rage had not already gone beyond its apex. He severed the chains binding the Panther to the rig with two strokes, and caught his friend with his free hand.
"Claudus. You came?" Panthro said, his voice stunned and weak. But his eyes, they were still unwavering. As he had thought — beaten but never broken!
"Of course. But there's no time to rest, I damaged Grune's weapon, but he's not dead. And Tygra may not have killed Slythe. I'm sorry, but I need you to fight now, and we can save Thundera."
Claudus felt Panthro take the weight onto his own feet and let the other Cat stand. Stepping forward, he looked over the carnage, and watched Lion-O bring down another Lizard with a slash to the neck. It seemed his son had awoken at last, and he had taken down that metal giant!
Lion-O looked to him, and the young Lion's eyes widened.
"Father-!" Lion-O screamed, holding a hand out.
Claudus stumbled and jerked as pain bloomed in his back. A firm claw seized his left shoulder, and more blows rained down, stabbing into his back.
Stabbed yes. His back…
Again and again, he hacked out some sound, and would have fallen if not for the grip. Vision swimming, the King managed to glance backward. Yes, it was as he thought. His friend stood there, holding him and the long bloody blade.
"You… Panthro?" Claudus asked. The General's stoic expression slid away, his face drawing into a fang filled smirk.
"Treachery begets treachery. Foolish Lion," Panthro chuckled. With a shove, he sent Claudus falling forward off the rig toward the street.
Something was roaring in his ears and he felt the sword slip through his fingers.
XXX
His father fell. After time had screeched to a near halt with every time Panthro stabbed his father, it seemed to came back in a rush now.
As if in the blink of an eye, King Claudus laid face down on the avenue paving stones. He ran, and hardly noticed when Tygra caught up with him.
The blue of his father's cape was stained, ripped. Wet.
Tygra was the one to turn him over. Lion-O stared, the proud face was twisted in pain. Then it relaxed somehow, and his father's eyes opened. He held up a trembling claw. Lion-O took it, and the eyes focused and swept over the two of them. Hope bloomed and Lion-O leaned in.
Claudus managed to take a ragged breath, almost gurgling.
"Whatever happens, I am proud, of both of you," King Claudus of Thundera said. The breath passed from him, utterly audible in the carnage creeping into Lion-O's hearing. Like it was a breath blowing out a candle, the light left his father's eyes, and he went limp in Tygra's arms.
Hope died, and Lion-O barely heard Tygra whisper for their father.
Laughter. The Prince stood. Bloodied dagger still in hand, Panthro stood tall, cackling over his murder, his betrayal. Grune walking to stand beside his comrade only affirmed it. Lion-O would be heartbroken, if there was any room left.
"Panthro! You betrayed him, too!?" Lion-O demanded.
"Show some respect runt, you-" Grune began, but Panthro held up a claw before the other General. He wasn't laughing anymore, but he grinned, and grinned. It seemed… too wide, Lion-O thought, resisting the urge to step back.
The wounds he assumed were mostly superficial then vanished from the General's form, like smoke in the wind.
"Foolish Lion. You have far more to worry about than mere traitors. Has it not occurred to you, that if your legends of technology are true, then your worst nightmares could be real as well?"
Grune leapt from the rig, and black smoke came pouring up around Panthro. No, not Panthro? The smoke rose high, and laughter ever more unlike the General rose from within it. And something moved inside.
"I am your maker and destroyer. Imperator and Tormentor. The seeder of worlds and slayer of stars. The engineer of the beginnings and usherer of the ends.
"BEHOLD! MUMM-RAAAAAA!"
The Demon mounted the smoke, cloaked in ragged red and putrid blue flesh peeking from rotting bandages. A host of white teeth sharp enough to cut the light glinted, and eyes red with hate and hunger without end flared as they looked upon the world with malicious glee.
Lion-O fell to his knees as the black wind swept over them all.
XXX
"Master! Master!" Jagga stood stock still. Amidst the rooftops bounding the avenue, the surviving Clerics stood. Too late to save his King. The kingdom. The city.
Perhaps the world.
He ignored his students' pleas and looked through the black wind. Lion-O…
"Clerics! The day long feared has come! To the death, Guardians of the Crown!" he commanded. And despite their terror, they followed to a Cat.
He threw lightning at the devil's face as it turned its ages-rotted visage on him. And caught the power in the palm of its hand.
"Foolish insects, to challenge the hurricane! PERISH!"
It sent Jagga's own lighting into its storm, perverted already, and then sprouting and multiplying with unthinkable speed. Red lightning erupted as the black column exploded. The moment expanded around Jaga, he saw it as if a tree of malevolence had sprung into being before him, in part planted by his own hand. Each branch would find a cleric, each death he saw at once and individually. Every life cut short and voice silenced.
Only one intervention could he make. He could offer no words of apology for there being no question whose life he would save. All his students, his comrades, his children, and now all but one he must abandon to death for the sake of the future.
His magic flaring in the moment that stretched for ages, he took the blow for Cheetara as the Guardians of the Crown burned and fell screaming over Thundera.
'I will not ask your forgiveness. I failed you,' Jagga thought as he too fell, holding onto Cheetara. Heedless of his presence, the overwhelmed Cleric screamed in terror and pain as the evil storm carried them through its fury.
XXX
Lion-O stood, and looked around at the flattened buildings. Even the rig was toppled, but this had been the eye of the storm.
And above, Mumm-Ra hung in the air surveying the desolation he had wrought.
Something so mundane as footfalls surprised him as he looked around to see Lizard troops surrounding them, weapons leveled. And Grune, of all possible survivors, appeared from somewhere, smiling as he always did when he had gotten his way.
"What, what is happening?!" Tygra screamed, still kneeling over their Father's corpse.
"THUNDERA! HAS FALLEN!" the nightmare made real proclaimed to a black boiling sky.
Author's Note: And so the arc ends.
Claudus was an unexpected pleasure to write. To really get into the perspective of a leader in Thundera as it existed prior to all this and his views on his sons. I think I will miss him, but his exit does clear more stage for the players that will move the story forward.
As for Wilykit's capture, this was die to the fact that her time as a pickpocket and stray was relatively brief. The sills from that time never developed as much as canon and as a palace slave she hs been out of practice on the physical side. I think she did pretty well against two veterans all thins considered. But don't worry she will get levels of badass down the road. I have plans for her. Oh my yeeees!
Well that's about all I suppose. I can't make any promises on when the next update will be. Whether the aftermath will be easier to write or not. Once we are out of Thundera though I will not be adapting every episode. Some just don't fit and others would just slow the plot down, and this is traveling at the speed of molasses anyway.
Now only one thing left: Long days and pleasant nights to you all!