There was, as always, a battle. Faker had lifted his perverted version of the Power sword, and met a steel shield. He-man’s face twisted into a grimace as the impact drove him to his knees, then he stood, and pulled back a fist.
Then, an impact.
Faker beheld the sky above grow clouded with rocks. A great weight pressed down on him. His sensometer redlined.
Then, darkness.
Fatal Error
Rebooting
Rebooting
Failed
For a mortal, the question of what lies beyond death is a puzzle that can only be solved once. But can the same be said for a robot?
Time passed.
Something happened. A surge, a spark, a minor cosmic tic that re-fired handmade neurons and dormant systems.
Rebooting
Identity Core: Roboto 1
Override engaged. Secondary Identity: Fake He-man protocol
Secondary Override Engaged: Tri-Klops Identity Overwrite: Faker Prime
Overriding…Please wait
Power Core reservoir 0%
Emergency reserves activated.
Power Core Reservoir 10%
Power Core Reservoir 20%
Enervation Constant Activated. Perpetuatesseract Dynamo Active at 25%
Faker opened inhuman eyes and saw more of the blackness that had been his sole companion. His sensors began calculating the tonnage that pressed down upon him. His chronometer was damaged. His Central Motonetric Engine was already being supplied necessary energy to activate limb strength.
Primary Inertia Engine activated. Power Level 100%
Power Core 100%
Power Core 150%
Power Core 200%
Overdrive engaged. Perpetuatesseract System Fully Operational.
Faker began to stand. His sensometers registered 50 tons of rock pressing him down. Internal servos compensated, and rock began to fall away. Faker stood as dust cleared. Faker’s eyes gleamed red as the Eternian sun fell onto him.
His memory of the battle ended when He-man punched him and the rocks fell. He scanned his surrounding and saw no sign of He-man, nor of his fellow warriors. Only rock and dust.
Faker’s internal chronometer would not reboot, having suffered fatal damage. He was unable to tell how long he had been underneath the rock, nor how long the battle had been over. There had been sun as the battle raged, and there was sun now. It could be the same day, or it could be the next.
Faker held up his hands. Already the lacerations caused by the rock were self-repairing. He watched blue skin knit together, hiding the mechanics underneath.
Vocal Module Engage: Testing
“I am He-man.”
Skeletor Protocol Engaged: Return to Snake Mountain.
Faker judged the sun’s position in the sky and calculated Eternia’s topography. He began to walk home. Snake Mountain awaited.
The sun had fallen away and been replaced by stars by the time Faker made his way to Snake Mountain. If a robot could be said to have curiosity, Faker felt such an emotion as he glanced at the broken remnant of the Snake head from which Snake Mountain took it’s name. The mountain itself looked crumbled in places that did not match his memories.
Faker walked to the Mountain. He stepped inside. Warrior designate “Whiplash” was not guarding the gate. Faker scanned the lava fields, which still burned. That, at least, was constant.
Inside the mountain there was no light spanning the halls. Faker swept the darkness with all-seeing artificial eyes. The layout had changed from when he had been here last. There had been a battle here. There were signs of damage.
Faker stepped into the throne room. Skeletor was not there. Faker stood at the entrance. He was as still as his surroundings.
“Don’t move,” someone said behind him. Faker turned his head. He saw a small form holding a blaster rifle. He was dressed in black, with cumbersome gauntlets that were too large for his arms. Faker recognized them as belonging to the palace Guards of Eternia.
“I am He-man,” Faker said. It was not what he wanted to say, not what he meant to say, but his vocal module had never functioned properly.
“Doubt it,” the intruder said. Faker scanned the voice through recognition files but found no match. Skeletor was always hiring new warriors, perhaps this was one of them.
Another shape joined the first. “Who the blazes is this?” He wore a thin chestplate that looked as if it had been hammered out of scrap metal. There appeared to be the remnant of a Horde Symbol on it. Other bits of metal he wore marked it as the leftover parts of a Horde Robot.
“Said his name’s He-man.”
“Of course. And I’m Granamyr. This is my friend Skytree. We’re pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“I am He-man,” Faker said.
“Shouldn’t you get ‘Skeleteen?’”
“Shhh, don’t let him hear you call him that.”
“What’s he going to do, wave his staff at us?”
Faker turned a little more. Two young men stood behind him. One of them had a blaster trained on him.
“I carry more than a blaster,” a third voice said. “So go ahead…call me Skeleteen again.”
Faker turned towards the third life form that had entered the throne room from the far door. Faker’s optic sensors registered Skeletor, but his logic circuits overrode his initial appraisal. While this third life form carried himself as Skeletor might have, and strode with Skeletor’s Havoc staff tapping the ground, and carried a face of bone above his shoulders, it was clear this was not Skeletor. He held a glowing stone in his left hand, the hand not holding the Havoc Staff. Faker registered it as an amulet that once belonged to the life form designate Marzo.
“We were just…” one of the pair behind Faker said.. His voice lowered considerably in decibel and died.
“Neither of you recognize him?” The youth who carried Skeletor’s weapon said. His voice was sharp and excited. He wore a mask over his features that resembled Skeletor, but he was a pale imitation. “It’s one of the old Faker units. I thought they had all been destroyed in the purge.”
“So…this is what He-man really looked like?”
They crowded around Faker. He remained in surveillance mode, watching.
“Minus the blue skin.” The youth held the amulet up. “I’m picking up some residual traces of mystic energy.” He took a step closer. “Wait…it’s the same energy readings from Skeletor’s Havoc staff. Could this be…Faker Prime?”
“I am He-man,” Faker said.
“What’s Faker Prime,” the youth who was still holding the blaster on Faker said.
“The first one,” the one holding the staff said.. “The most powerful. He was thought destroyed nearly thirty years ago. Tri-Klops later used his schematics to create the Faker Army, but none of them were as powerful as the first.”
“Why not?” the third of them said, the one wearing destroyed Horde trooper parts. He pounded his fist on his chestplate, producing a hollow clang. “A robot’s a robot.”
The youth dressed as Skeletor turned to his friend, and glared at him. In that moment he truly looked like Skeletor. Faker turned his head and saw that the unspoken threat had cowed the third youth. There was much of Skeletor in his bearing. “This was no ordinary robot. His skin was genetically cloned from Skeletor’s own flesh. That’s what the amulet is reading. Don’t you see? He’s wearing Skeletor’s skin. Skeletor’s essence. Skeletor’s power.” The amulet flared, and Faker found himself bound in an energy field. His arms were pinned. He drew on his power reserves but was unable to break free.
“Take him to the crucible,” the leader of the three said. “If I drain off his residual magical energy I can activate Skeletor’s staff,” he said, and tapped it on the ground. “With Faker’s return we are one step closer to fulfilling the Great Lord Skeletor’s ultimate goal: domination of Eternia.”
Faker strained against his mystical bonds, but it was no use. The youth waved the amulet in front of his face.
“It is truly an honor to meet one who served under the Dark Lord. My name is Skullitor. I have taken this name in honor of our lost Lord of Destruction, in the hopes that one day he will find his way back from the abyss. Welcome to the Cult of Skeletor.”
