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…
Trapped.
Adam was trapped.
He-Man was trapped.
He didn’t know which he was. Was he now Adam in He-Man’s clothes, or He-Man wilted by Adam’s weaknesses? He was trapped in both worlds.
If he had been Adam when the flare event occurred, it would have at least been tolerable. He would have been able to mingle with the rest and wonder aloud with them where He-Man was. But to be stuck as He-Man with none of He-Man’s powers meant an entirely new arena of danger.
He lifted the sword again and willed the power to burst forth, to unlock the connection he shared with the magic deep within Castle Grayskull that linked him to fundamental energies of the universe, but the power would not come.
In desperation, he went to the cave where the Goddess had once taught him what it meant to be He-Man. In the beginning, when the power he would learn to contain and control was new and fresh within him, he had not needed the oath or the sword to change to He-Man. Simply entering the cave meant shifting from Adam to He-Man. The Goddess would tilt her beautiful head, her green skin shimmering as if casting its own light, and she would say simply, “Welcome, He-Man” He never knew if the change had been affected by Goddess herself or the cave, but if there was a hope that there were still ambient energies left that could spark the change, he had to try.
But the cave did nothing. There was no spark of energy, no tumult of power, nothing. Whatever had taken magic from Eternia and had severed his link to the power he should command as He-Man was gone.
Duncan, who had brought him to the cave the first time and had taken him now, only stared sadly. “I may have an answer,” he said mysteriously. “You’ll have to wait here. Powerless, you’ll be in danger if your enemies found you.”
“I can’t just sit here when Eternia needs me.”
“Wait, and trust,” Duncan said. He-Man bunched fists that could once shatter rock but would now themselves shatter on rock. He took a breath. “Be quick,”
So he waited. Uselessly. Like a coward.
It was that feeling which gnawed at him the most.
He trekked deeper into the cave. He remembered the trials, the training. The cave was larger than it appeared, housing things inside it that the outer world of Eternia seemed ignorant of, but were forged to test a champion. And He-Man had beaten each of those tests.
He plucked a torch from the rock wall and lit it and carried it with him deeper still in the cave, past the point where light from outside dared enter.
What he sought was up ahead.
The Pool of Truth.
The Pool of Truth was a small body of water that defied gravity, hovering in mid-air, bound by nothing but air. It was as he remembered it from all those years ago.
He dipped a hand in it and stirred the water. Whatever had stolen magic from Eternia had not taken the Pool’s power because it drew power from a source beyond mere magic. It was linked to the cosmos in ways He-Man had not understood, and the Goddess had not explained.
He pulled his hand from the pool. His hand was dry. And the shifting water showed him the truth.
In the pool, he saw himself as Adam. A prince, carefree.
It shifted. he saw himself in training, unadorned with his chest plate, no sword, nor axe, no weapon of any kind.
He saw himself as he was now. He-Man. A neutered He-Man, but He-Man nonetheless.
And then the pool began rippling more.
The future opened up.
He recognized himself, but only as one recognizes an old friend not seen in far too long. He saw a crown on his head, a beard on his chin. He touched his face where there would be a scar. He wondered who would scar him?
The image made him uneasy. He ran a hand through the water, but only succeeded in making his own reflection waver. The king he would become continued staring at him.
He pulled his sword and dipped it in the gravity-defying water. “I have the power,” he said softly, but the king did nothing, offered no help, gave no pity.
Fang Man fitted inhibitor collars on those he believed were capable of insurrection. Snake Mountain was home to others but from what he had observed few of them cared who sat on the throne. Spikor was content to toil his hours away working on whatever sadistic inventions he could bend from iron, and Webstor… well, who truly knew what he truly cared about. Skeletor had some form of an arrangement with him, one that Fang Man would have to shore up when the need arose.
There would be others he would need to deal with. Kobra Khan and his divided loyalties were a threat, but he believed he could appeal to the reptile in him. Stinkor cared little for anything. Trap Jaw… he was a danger. He would have to be dealt with before the half-man could stage his own power play.
Evil Lyn had not needed a collar, nor any further words. She seemed defeated and weak without her magic, but underestimating her could be dangerous.
He sat on Skeletor’s throne and enjoyed the feeling of power.
There was no way of knowing how long magic would be gone from Eternia, so he needed to maximize his options before it returned. He supposed he could come to a more… permanent solution for the threat of Skeletor, but that was unseemly and bad for morale. Despite his cruelty, there seemed to be a measure of loyalty to him among his warriors.
The air before the throne shimmered. Fang Man was on guard immediately, unaware of who would be brazen enough to attack here.
The air began to take on a shape, and the shape began to darken in hue until there was a red blob hanging before him. Fang Man sat forward on his throne, and the image began to clarify. he recognized it at once.
“You are not my former pupil,” Hordak said, glowing a bright blood red in the air before him.
Fang Man tensed. He had never met Hordak but had plumbed the history of Eternia and knew all about him. “No, Lord Hordak. I am Fang Man.”
“By what right do you take that throne?”
“The right of the strong over the weak. Your pupil’s reign has come to an end.”
“So Eternia has been stricken of sorcery as well if Skeletor has fallen to the rabble.”
“Etheria also then?”
“Etheria has been similarly affected. But Horde power goes beyond mere sorcery.”
Though partially translucent, this spirit of Hordak still glistened with palpable power. Fang Man didn’t know the reach the creature’s power, and felt it necessary to stay on his good side — if it existed.
Hordak‘s image floated. He stared silently. Fang Man felt himself being measured. “I have very long been a proponent of the strong succeeding the weak, and if you are the equal to that throne, then so be it, King of Snake Mountain. We should ally ourselves against the power that can affect our twin worlds like this. Are you in agreement?”
“Of course, dread Lord.”
“I will warn you. I am acquainted with power, and this was no small task. Are you prepared to go to war with Gods if the needs be?”
Fang Man ran a tongue across his bared teeth. “Oh yes, Lord Hordak. You will find the breadth of my ambition quite equal to the task.”
Hordak’s gaze lingered on him a moment, and then his image began to fade.
Fang Man was again alone in his kingdom.
