Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen. It’s time once again for a trip to Eternia, where the endless battle between good and evil continues. Join Ibentmyman-thing and Matthew K as they bring you a brand new story featuring some of your favorite Masters of the Universe characters. Welcome to Eternia…
Karatti waited in a windowless room of jet black steel walls. There was a single bunk, the edge of which he was perched, expectantly. His hands were on his knees, and his posture was rigid. If someone were to walk in on him it was possible to mistake him for ornamentation in the room. There was no sign of breath.
The voice came again, detached and soft, like a lullaby.
“The players are in motion, the champions are crippled. Now go. test them.”
Karatti stood, and turned a small nob on his belt.
The black room faded and the throne room of the palace of Eternos faded into view.
The King was distracted and not looking in his direction when a guard in orange and green shouted ”Intruder!” but his attention snapped to him immediately. Wide eyes opened up over a bearded face.
The guards–four in all and each only armed with blades–raised their weapons. Karatti was already in motion. Matching sword to sword he clanged steel and swatted a guard aside with a vicious kick that dented the armor on his chest.
A second guard swung, but Karatti leveled the heel of his hand at the blade and it shattered on impact. He took advantage of the guard’s shock to twist the dial on his belt again.
Eternos evaporated, and the throne room of Snake Mountain congealed around him. It wavered, solidified, and he set eyes on the creature on the throne.
“Don’t just stand there,” the creature on the throne said, blue skin shimmering in the dim light.
To Karatti’s right, a man with a single eye drew a broadsword and brought it down. Karatti flung himself backward and let the sword clang against stone. The one-eyed man flung out a quick backhand that clanged against Karatti’s mouthpiece and then he tugged his sword from the floor. Karatti vaulted over a second pass and caught a large golden hand before it could connect with his face.
The one eyed man’s eye spun until a second red one snapped into place. It fired, and Karatti had time enough to wrench the golden hand up to deflect the laser burst before turning the dial on his belt yet again.
Snake Mountain rippled, and Eternos was again surrounding him.
Something large shifted beside him, and he felt the sudden crunch of impact. He felt what must have been a rib crack as the large bulk slammed him.
Karatti dropped and rolled, and looked up to see a wide man in red and silver, wearing ribbed pants. “King’s safe, greenie. You shouldn’ta come back,”
Karatti clicked a button on his wrist guantlet and a microneedle injected a measure of painkillers into his system, dulling the pain of the broken rib. His powerful legs launched him upwards and he grabbed the top of the large man’s silver helmet. He brought his weight down, and the large figure lost his balance.
To his surprise, a second oversized hand, this time a shimmering silver, cracked out at him, and made a glancing contact on his jaw. Angered, Karatti drove an elbow into his attacker’s stomach, and brought a foot down into his knee. He heard something crack softly, and then lifted his armored knee into the man’s bearded face.
The dial twisted.
Snake Mountain. There were more this time.
Before he had not noticed the collars his attackers wore. He quickly checked the creature on the throne, and saw he was not wearing one. Their servitude was not by choice but force.
He evade the stab of a trident, and turned to see a Mer creature baring a brace of pointy teeth.
The stabs were quick. One sliced across Karatti’s bicep. He felt nothing. He double tapped the painkiller button again though, and his body numbed. On the next pass he grabbed the staff from the fish creature and swung it around to deflect yet another attack by the one-eyed man.
Something heavy slammed into him. He tumbled, but rolled to his feet at the end of one smooth motion. A large creature with a heavy tail loomed. The creature spun, and the tail began its shattering arc towards him.
Twist of dial.
The room was full of guards now, blaster pistols trained on him.
“Open fire,” Karatti heard someone say. He was still holding the fish creature’s staff. He jammed it into the ground, used it to vault himself upwards, as laser fire erupted all around him. He ripped a helmet off the head of a royal guard as he landed.
Twist of dial.
A large claw latched on to his arm, and applied pressure. He dropped the helmet as his wrist broke.
Twist of dial.
The black steel room once again surrounded him. Karatti’s breathing was calm. He took a seat.
“You have done well,” the voice said.
Karatti waited in a windowless room of jet black steel walls.
The Palace was on high alert. Every available off-duty palace Guard had been called in, and Teela was pacing furiously, securing every entrance. Ram Man and Fisto had just returned with Orko minutes before the attack, and had taken the Trollan to his room to rest when the creature attacked. When their attacker failed to make a return trip, they waited in the silent throne room with a phalanx of guards for the better part of an hour, nerves buzzing, but the intruder didn’t show his armored face again. They were hesitant to think the danger over, but the only thing left to show there had been any intruder at all was the staff buried in the floor of the throne room. When they were as certain as could be that the creature would not reappear, Fisto grasped the trident and plucked it from the floor. He snapped it over his knee angrily and dropped the bits to the floor. “See to the king,” he said sharply to the guards. “He’s not coming back.”
“Ever see him before?” Ram man asked as the guards filed out. Fisto shook his head, and Ram Man kicked at the splintered end of the trident. “I can smell the seawater from here. Mer-man’s, right? Or at least one of the Mer-people.”
“Yeah, but he was no Mer-man. I got the feeling he was toying with us. He planted this here to send a message.”
“So what’s the message?”
Fisto grabbed the coiled end of his beard and tugged on it. “Did you see his wounds? He would reappear with more wounds than when he left. He was fighting two battles at once…and winning. Or at least giving as good as he was getting.”
“That’s impossible.”
“No, you saw him. His skill was incredible. And he was holding back, trust me. He was fighting us, and he was fighting Skeletor’s men as well.”
“And the message?”
Fisto shrugged. “We’re outmatched. There’s something coming that’s bigger than we’re used to.”
Ram Man studied Fisto‘s face-or at least the parts of his face not consumed with bristly beard. There wasn‘t much on Eternia that Ram Man feared, mainly because there wasn‘t much that he didn‘t believe he could hit as hard as he needed for it to fall down. But that note of defeat he was reading in his arrogant, cocky and sometimes infuriating friend‘s voice was not settling his nerves any. “Doesn’t sound like your usual big-fisted cockiness.”
“No, it doesn’t does it.” Fisto said, took another quick sweep of the room.
The door to the throne room crashed open, startling both men, but it was only King Randor shoving his way past a few guards who were attempting to keep him safe. His face was red. “I will not be kept from my own Throne Room!”
“It may not yet be safe, sire,” a guard said hesitantly.
The King barked a wordless noise at him. “Nonsense. The threat has passed,” he said, and stormed in. The guards shared a look and retreated back into the hall, allowing the door to slam shut behind them.
Fisto and Ram Man bowed, but Randor waved it away. “Any sign of the intruder?”
“We believe him to be gone for good, sir.”
“For now, you mean,” The King said. He eyeballed the splintered trident. “This didn’t feel like the work of skeletor.”
“No sir. I was just telling Ram Man–”
“Where in blazes is He-man? Where is man-At-Arms for that matter. A bloody nightmare is what this all is.” He looked up “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”
“I don’t believe this to be the work of Skeletor.”
“Well, I’ve often said Eternia needs new enemies,” Randor said with a dry note of humor that seemed to work counterpoint to the exhaustion behind his eyes. He looked past Ram Man and Fisto as the door to the throne room cracked open a hint. “Well don’t just stand there at he door, come in.”
The warriors turned to see a pair of fresh faces standing at the door, in multi-colored garb that neither recognized. “With everything happening I’m bolstering our sorely flagging ranks. Ram Man, Fisto, allow me to introduce Wing Commander Dread Talon of Point Dread, and Ground Commander Attaktra of the Trak Brigade. They’ll be keeping a constant presence by land and air around the perimeter of the Palace until we can figure out who’s orchestrating these attacks.
“Sir,” Dread Talon said, his voice low and soft. “The Talon Fighter was not intended for reconnaissance. That seems more apt for a Wind Raider or…”
“Who said anything about reconnaissance?” Randor said, cutting him off. “Wind raiders are fine, but if an attack is to come, I want the Talon fighter to have point, and obliterate anything. I’ve had enough intruders in my throne room and in my palace to last me more lifetimes than I can count.”
Commander Dread Talon bowed. Randor flapped his arms at all of them. “You all have your orders, now out. And somebody find me He-man!” he shouted to them as they left.
