Chapter Text
Adora sits stiffly in the captain’s seat, sharp eyes taking in the pinpricks of light winking against a dark expanse. She is in space, but she is not looking at stars.
Instead, her field of view is dominated by a massive dagger of a ship; dots of faint green illumination bleed through an ashen exterior, proving a sterile facsimile of the deep, rich purple that forms the wider universe around it.
With every passing second, Adora draws nearer and nearer to Horde Prime’s ship, and her heart is racing. With a sound like a Horde tank crumpling to a metal pulp, Darla shudders. Immediately, the ship’s sensors go off, and a warning from the display bathes the cabin in crimson.
“Alert. We are being pulled in by an outside force.”
Adora’s rigid body goes even tenser when she hears Darla’s stilted modulation. She furrows her brow in response, but says nothing. This is all part of the plan, no matter how reckless it might be.
With an eerie tranquility, Darla glides toward an opening in the spire, the imposing maw of a hangar. The ship alights with a shift of its wings, and a momentary silence settles over everything.
Adora rises from her seat and swiftly makes her way to the boarding ramp. In the darkness, she takes her position. Nervous fingers find the cool metal of her compacted staff. Her jaw clenches.
The doors slide open to reveal the stark white interior of Prime’s flagship. Darla’s ramp extends, and a quintuplet of clones make themselves known, waiting for the ship’s passengers with uniform stances and intimidating height.
Adora lets out a low growl at the sight of her enemy. Rage overtakes her, and without waiting for a signal she rushes forward, extending her staff as she does.
A determined yell escapes her throat as she throws herself at the clones, swinging and bashing. The first clone falls, but the second grunts as he stops Adora’s staff with a powerful hand. He bares his teeth, and Adora instinctively kicks, planting a foot squarely into his chest and knocking him backward. Her weapon is freed, and the three remaining clones round on her.
“Now!”
Adora’s desperate cry rings through the spacious hangar, and she is reinforced by her friends, attacking from above.
Glimmer leaps wildly down onto the back of a clone, while one to her left is struck by an arrow that leaves him a tangled mess of rope. Adora grins as she takes on the third, and Entrapta uses her hair to come down from the ship with a triumphant cackle.
Another swing, and Adora’s clone is down. Glimmer has put her hands together and targeted her clone’s neck port, effectively knocking him out. She jumps up with a glint in her eye, and pumps a fist in the air.
“Yes! We did it!” she exclaims.
Bow drops to the hangar floor and joins them, removing his helmet and folding his bow.
“Alright, where do we go from here?”
His question is answered by a beaming Entrapta, who has popped off her own helmet and is closely examining a data pad.
“There must be a server room somewhere on board. After we reach Catra, we should be able to gather data on how Prime operates! Ooh, I hope there’s more clones!”
Bow raises an eyebrow, but Adora steps forward and says, “We’d better hope there’s not too many. Glimmer, lead the way.”
The group sets out from the hangar and approaches the hallway. Glimmer carefully peeks around the corner, but there is nothing to find. Three identically vacant corridors stretch out before them, devoid of life or any acknowledgement of the danger the friends have just braved. Adora’s eyes narrow.
“I don’t like this,” she mutters to nobody in particular. “How do we even know where to go? Have you seen this part of the ship, Glimmer?”
Glimmer shakes her head.
“No. At least, I don’t think so.... Maybe? This is just how it is here! This is basically what it looked like outside my cell.”
Adora properly frowns.
“The whole ship looks the same?”
“Pretty much. The only way to know if it’s a new hallway is the rooms, they have these green shields over them. Kind of like something from the Fright Zone, but weirder and... worse. We’ll just have to wander until we find her.”
Three sets of eyes look to Adora in unison, all asking the same question; she responds without hesitation.
“Then let’s start wandering. We’re finding her, no matter what.”
Adora’s projected confidence, as always, belies her true feelings: she is adrift in a sea of unfamiliarity, and she’s gasping for air.
With the Sword of Protection in pieces and the unpredictable arrival of Adora’s brand-new (and so far unreplicated) access to some sort of magic, She-Ra’s status is… in flux. Traversing through space adds a layer of risk she never could have anticipated, and the very existence of Horde Prime is still something she struggles to wrap her mind around. Glimmer is back with her friends and she’s safe, but it’s evident that some wounds need time to heal. What troubles Adora most, though, is Catra.
The sole reason they’re aboard this vessel is to rescue Catra, though her whereabouts, or even her condition, remain a mystery. Adora recalls the transmission, and Catra’s words echo in her skull.
“Don’t come here. No matter what. Horde Prime is ready for you!”
And yet, here they are. Adora’s long past worrying about threats from tyrants, and with Catra in danger...
“I’m sorry! For everything!”
After all this time, after all these years, she chooses now to apologize. Instinct tells Adora that she should be angry, but she instead finds her eyes damp with tears.
The sole reason they’re really aboard this vessel is because Catra sacrificed herself to save Glimmer. Adora is still in shock, and the moment plays on a loop in her head. She hears the desperation and fear in Catra’s voice. She contemplates the meaning, turning it all over in her mind and worrying it like one might a hangnail. Ever since the portal, Adora’s told herself not to dream, to wish. But this…
This is impossible to ignore.
And now, every once-suppressed hope bubbles up inside her, a powerful and heady cocktail of that unnamed emotion, that unspoken connection. Adora doesn’t even know if Catra is alive, but she has to try.
She’s bringing Catra home.
Adora is brought back to the present when she nearly collides with Glimmer. The Queen has stopped in place and is silently holding up a fist. A beat passes, and a pair of clones stride through the intersection, headed away from them. After what feels like a lifetime, their footsteps fade and leave the group in isolation.
Entrapta takes the opportunity to glance at her tracker pad and whisper excitedly, “I’m getting a biiiiig energy reading. There’s something powerful on board, and we might be headed right for it!”
Adora quirks an eyebrow, wondering what that could possibly be.
Before she’s able to voice her question, Glimmer says softly, “That’s got to be the server room. I don’t think that’s too far from the cell, c’mon.”
The corridors of Prime’s ship remain largely deserted, and after they pass by their third intersection, Entrapta remarks, “This place is so big, and empty! Where are the vents? How does anyone get around in this place?”
Bow chuckles, and says, “I don’t think this ship was designed for people who aren’t… you know.” He draws himself up to his full height and imitates the scowl of a clone, and Adora can’t help but smile.
Glimmer, meanwhile, has been staring intently at the hallway opposite them. Adora takes notice, and places a hand on her friend’s shoulder.
“What’s going on?”
Glimmer gives a start at the contact, but relaxes when she turns back to see Adora. She lets out a sigh, and slumps back against the wall, staring intently at the floor.
“Sorry, this is just… it’s a lot, being back here. I keep worrying that he’s gonna come around every corner, and that we won’t be able to get away.”
Adora nods in understanding, and attempts to comfort Glimmer.
“I don’t know everything you went through while you were here, but I’m going to make sure it can never happen again. It’s brave of you to come back, especially for… well, for Catra.”
Glimmer looks up, and there’s worry in her eyes.
“I made it out, and that’s what matters. I just hope we can say the same for her.”
A chill goes down Adora’s spine, and she has to force herself to speak again.
“T-then let’s get going.”
After checking for clones, the group sets out once more. They don’t have far to go; just three corridors later, a faint glow from ahead makes Glimmer gasp softly.
She whispers, “Up there, that’s it. That’s the cell.”
Adora’s breath catches.
Catra’s in that cell. She’s in there and I need to—
Before she knows what she’s doing, before she can steel herself and process the fact that Catra may be mere feet away, her body is carrying her forward.
She sprints toward the cell, no longer worried about keeping quiet, and suddenly the world is just her and the light up ahead. The glow becomes brighter and a frantic moment later, the entire wall is dominated by a translucent green energy field. It’s reminiscent of a Horde cell, but larger, more refined. Adora skids to a halt right in front of it, and looks inside to discover…
Nothing.
The cell is empty, and there is no sign of Catra.
No...
Adora’s friends are just paces behind her, and they gather quietly at her side. She continues to stare at the wall, and her mind is becoming a swirl of dread and doubt.
Where is she? Is she still alive? Where could she have been taken? Was this all a trap? Is she—
Bow interrupts her spiraling thoughts by wrapping an arm around her in a loose hug. Adora reluctantly turns from the vacant cell and hugs back, trying her hardest not to cry.
“It’ll be okay, Adora. We’ll find her.”
Bow’s deep voice rumbles against her frame, and he says his words with such conviction that they ground her a little, despite the fear. Where would she be without her friends?
Adora bites back her tears, and sucks down a deep breath through clenched teeth.
“Yeah, we will. Thanks, Bow.”
Her burgeoning panic begins to give way to singular focus. It’s another beat before she can think clearly again, and when she does, she finds herself right back to asking questions, though these seem more productive.
Catra must be in another part of the ship. Maybe with Prime? There has to be somewhere else...
Adora vocalizes her thoughts, and asks, “Glimmer, is there anywhere else she might be? Anywhere at all that you know of?”
Glimmer frowns, and says, “Maybe. Let me think.”
Behind her, Entrapta lets out a small, “Oooh.” Her prehensile hair is extended toward the force field of the cell, while her hands are busy tapping away at her data pad. If Adora were focused on anything besides Catra’s safety, she might wonder what’s so interesting about the green sheet of energy.
“Prime has a sort of throne room,” Glimmer says. “That’s where we came in, when we got… teleported. I was only there for a few minutes, but I think I remember the way from here.”
Adora’s mind lights up with images of Hordak’s Sanctum, and a hard, angular throne that he never seemed to get up from.
“Will Prime be there?” she asks, not yet sure of what she intends to do.
Glimmer nods. “Probably.”
Adora says nothing in response, simply deploying her staff and fixing Glimmer with a look that she can only hope will communicate her plan. Glimmer seems to understand, and gives a small nod.
She mutters “Let’s go,” and moves swiftly into the darkened corridor stretching out before them. Adora eagerly follows suit, glancing behind her just long enough to confirm that Entrapta has gotten the message; an enthusiastic purple-haired thumbs-up is all she needs, and the group is on their way.
Their pace has quickened significantly, and Adora can sense that something around them has changed. She isn’t able to place it, but her eyes dart back and forth all the same. A crawling sensation on her skin tells her they’re being observed.
They take alternating turns at three intersections, before once again emerging into a well-lit hallway. This one’s different though: higher-than-normal ceilings accommodate an enormous diamond-shaped force field at the end, and a lace pattern of struts around the edges indicate its importance. Two clones flank the massive door, and reinforce what the design already loudly broadcasts. Adora’s pulse picks up.
This is it.
Their arrival does not go unnoticed, and the clones immediately glower, moving in their direction.
Adora lets out a yell and charges forward, trusting that behind her, Bow has unshouldered his weapon and already taken aim. Sure enough, the clone to the left is struck with an exploding arrow that leaves him staggering.
Adora meets her opponent in the middle of the hall, and sweeps his legs with her staff’s longer reach. He tumbles to the floor, where Adora jabs her weapon into his neck port. He grunts once and then falls silent.
Glimmer rushes forward with nothing but her fists, and she lands a powerful punch on the first disoriented clone. He hits the ground with a dull thud, and then the corridor is silent.
“The clones seem to have a weakness at the base of their neck! Fascinating…”
Entrapta’s observation breaks through the post-brawl tension, and she strides past the carnage toward the imposing force field.
“It’s so tall! How does it function?”
Glimmer grabs for the arm of a clone, and with Bow’s help, drags it nearer to the door.
“They work when the clones touch them, but I don’t know why,” she replies. And then, looking at Adora, she asks, “Are you ready?”
It’s a simple enough question, yet Adora struggles to procure an answer. She is swamped by emotions, feeling a veritable symphony: anger, fear, guilt, uncertainty—but she finds it all means so little in the face of the one constant in her life, the one unwavering truth.
Catra.
It doesn’t matter what she’s done, it doesn’t even matter that the chances of survival are slim. What matters is that Catra is behind this door. And nobody, not even Horde Prime, will stand in Adora’s way.
She takes a deep breath, and sets her jaw.
“I’m ready. Open it.”
* * *
The sheet of viridescent energy dissipates and reveals a void, impossibly large and as dark as space. Whatever Adora was expecting, it wasn’t this.
A walkway stretches out from the doorway into the nothing, on and on and on until it connects to a platform in the center of the chasm. Adora takes a step that’s far more confident than she feels, and begins the trek to her fate.
Her friends are right behind her, moving swiftly and carefully. Adora expects their steps to echo, but the vast chamber simply absorbs the sound. She shudders.
What Adora can hear is the soft chirps of Entrapta’s awestruck curiosity, the rhythmic huff of Glimmer’s anxious breaths, and her own pulse pounding in her ears.
Up ahead, a beam of light from the unseen ceiling illuminates the central platform, where a pair of clones stand at attention. Between them is a throne, and on that throne is…
Prime. That has to be him.
As the group draws nearer, Adora’s heart beats louder. Her grip on her staff tightens. They’re close enough now that she can finally take in the details, and what she sees horrifies her.
Horde Prime is alien yet familiar, imposing yet sophisticated. Glimmer had talked of him briefly, but no amount of description could prepare Adora for his presence, so immediate and terrifyingly real.
Unlike the eyes of the clones, Prime’s shine icily with life, shrewd and all-knowing. They look right through her, seeming to bore into her very soul, attacking her with intensity, and yet… nothing has happened. No fight has broken out. Prime simply lounges on his throne, watching them with those four eyes and wearing a bored expression while his clones stand by.
Adora furrows her brow, and resolves to act before Prime has a chance to.
“Where is she?”
Prime’s mouth slowly curls into a smile, though it could not be mistaken for one of mirth. He says nothing. Adora, frustrated at the lack of response, calls out again.
“Where is Catra? Tell me.”
Prime begins to laugh, and it’s an uncanny sound. It is recognizably Hordak, and yet it is not Hordak at all. Hordak never laughed, but if he did, Adora thinks this is what it must sound like: cruel, cold, calculated. When Prime speaks, it’s somehow even worse.
“Catra is safe, do not worry Adora. She has been put at peace, made better.”
Adora almost recoils at the sound of her name, but instead chooses to bare her teeth and take a pointed step forward. It’s a mistake; the moment she does, Prime snaps his fingers.
The clones at his side rush forward to restrain Adora, and her staff clatters to the floor as her arms are pinned behind her back.
“Adora!” Bow cries, but before he can react, more clones swarm from behind and similarly incapacitate him, Glimmer, and Entrapta. The entire struggle is over in less than five seconds.
“No!” Adora yells, thrashing against her captors. “Let us go!”
Prime unhurriedly rises from his throne, surveying the group. He paces closer, coming to a stop in front of Entrapta.
“Another Princess from Etheria, it would appear. To what do I owe this great pleasure?”
Entrapta frowns and refuses to meet Prime’s eyeline, a soft whimper her only response. He ignores his unanswered question, instead saying, “I see you’ve brought a friend!”
His gaze falls on Bow, who shudders under the scrutiny. Prime strides down the line, this time towering over Glimmer.
“And Queen Glimmer, how bold of you to return to me. I suspect you shall meet the same fate as the foolish creature who attempted to rescue you.”
Glimmer gasps, and Adora’s blood runs cold.
“What did you do to her?” Adora asks in a wavering voice. She’s beginning to panic at her lack of control, and the possibility that Catra has been hurt is nearly too much to bear.
Horde Prime turns to her and says in a cloying tone, “Ah, and Adora. Of course.”
As he speaks, he reaches out a clawed hand and touches Adora’s face in a knowing, possessive gesture. It’s Shadow Weaver all over again, and Adora jerks back in disgust.
“I said, what did you do to her?!”
Prime just smirks, a terrible sight.
“See for yourself.”
Adora is suddenly beset by the horrible sensation of being watched, and she knows somewhere deep in her gut that Catra is behind her.
She immediately strains against the clones, grunting and fighting for a glimpse over her shoulder, anything to see Catra, and then...
A flash of white, a small figure.
Catra strides past Adora, flanked by yet more clones.
She stands stiffly at Horde Prime’s side, and it’s Catra, yes, but she’s wearing a hood, a brand new outfit. Her eyes glow unnaturally, everything is sterile, and Adora is frozen in shock.
“Hello, Adora.”
The words hang awkwardly in the space between them while the hood is lowered, revealing shorn and slicked-back hair, a blank expression, and Catra’s not right, this isn’t right—
“No no no no, what did—what have you done to her?!”
“I have brought her into the light,” Prime gloats. “She was in such pain, you know, and all because you left her. I’ve merely granted her peace.”
It’s Glimmer who speaks up, growling, “Catra never would have wanted this! You’re a monster.”
Adora is momentarily stunned by Glimmer’s defense, but recovers quickly and shouts at Prime, “She’s right! This is some sort of trick, it has to be. Y-you don’t know anything about me, or Catra.”
Prime chuckles darkly, dangerously.
“Oh, Adora… I have heard her thoughts, felt her pain. It would seem I know her better than you ever did.”
His words needle and sting, and Adora shakes with rage, yelling, “Enough! This ends now! Let Catra go.”
Horde Prime replies coolly, “You’re wrong, I’m afraid. This ends only once you’ve given me what I want: She-Ra.”
Glimmer says, “No…” and Adora’s eyes widen with realization, her pulse racing.
He still wants She-Ra? Doesn’t he know she’s gone?
Prime just smiles again, and says, “Oh yes, I know about your planet’s weapon, and the power you possess, all courtesy of our little sister.”
As he speaks, Prime rests a clawed hand on Catra’s shoulder. Adora notices that despite the trance-like state Catra is in, she flinches at the touch; Adora sees red.
Voice low, she says, “If you touch her again, I’ll kill you.”
Horde Prime narrows his eyes.
“A futile endeavor. Her place”—Prime’s grip on Catra tightens dangerously—”is by my side.”
A grimace flashes over Catra’s face, and something inside of Adora snaps.
There’s a pounding in her skull and a rush of adrenaline so potent that she nearly mistakes it for magic. Before she knows what’s happening, she’s knocking aside her captors with bashing elbows, closed fists, and a frenzied cry ripping from her throat.
The clones hit the floor, Adora scrabbles for her staff.
Her hands close around the solid metal, she rushes toward Prime.
She explodes with a powerful swing aimed right at his taunting face, those cruel eyes, and—
The staff stops in midair, caught by Catra’s inflexible and unswaying grasp.
For a quiet moment, she is as still as a statue, a look of manufactured serenity upon her angular face. And then the staff is ripped from Adora’s hands and flung, over the edge of the platform and down, down into the endless chasm. Adora hardly registers what’s happened, and is instead staring at Catra in horror.
The moment is shattered when Adora is suddenly dragged backward by a fresh pair of clones, who roughly pin her arms to her side and dig their claws into her skin. Pain shoots through her body, but all Adora can do is keep gaping at Catra, feeling more helpless than ever.
“You would dare attack me?”
Horde Prime’s voice cuts through the vast chamber with deadly intent. Adora’s heart stops.
Prime continues slowly, saying, “I desire only peace and order, which I have provided to this troubled soul. And yet here you are, to take that away. Even as you seek to rescue her, you continue to be at odds with Catra… how disappointing.”
Any sliver of control Adora thought she had is now slipping through her hands.
“I’m not—this isn’t Catra! I’m trying to—”
Trying to what? That wasn’t magic, I’m not She-Ra anymore. I can’t fight Prime—
Adora is flooded with doubt and panic, and she begins to hyperventilate. The only thing that keeps her focused is some deep-rooted and stubborn instinct to prove Horde Prime wrong, to prove her dedication to her best friend.
“C-Catra?” she calls, desperately trying to even out her breathing. “Catra, are you in there? This isn’t you, it’s some sort of trick that Prime—”
“There is no trick, Adora,” Catra interrupts, voice as blank as her eyes. “I am in Prime’s light now. Everything is as it should be.”
Tears stream down Adora’s face. She is at a loss, on the edge.
She cries wildly, “What did you do?!”
Prime returns his grip to Catra’s shoulder, and Adora is keenly aware that his claws are nearly at Catra’s throat; this is a warning.
“I took this pathetic life and remade her in my image. The same will be done to your friends… unless, of course, you give me what I want. I will not ask again: give me She-Ra. Only then will your friends walk free.”
Adora’s heart pounds in her throat, and her entire frame is wracked by sobs. Prime’s ultimatum is impossible to reckon with. How could this have gone so wrong so quickly?
She knows this is all her fault. She knows with sickening certainty that this is because she was reckless enough to come here without a plan, to come here without She-Ra…
And if Prime were to somehow get his hands on her magic—but she isn’t magic, at least that’s what her doubt is telling her, and now it’s all falling apart, her friends are going to die because of her—
“Don’t do it, Adora!”
Bow’s words ring through her head and provide the barest hint of clarity; they’re soon joined by the panicked shouts of Glimmer and Entrapta.
“He can’t use the Heart, Adora! We’ll be okay, just don’t give him what he wants!”
“She’s correct, giving Prime access to She-Ra would have devastating consequences!”
Adora is torn by their words; she knows she can’t possibly risk the universe for this, but she also knows better than to trust anything Prime says. She wonders what Catra would think, but Catra can’t think, and she’s trapped in the clutches of this tyrant...
It hardly matters now, and Prime looks on impatiently. All she can focus on is Catra’s face, screwed up in pain once more, and Adora knows she has only seconds to answer, to think of something, anything—
“I ca—you’re a liar!” she shouts at Prime. “I will never give you She-Ra. And if you touch her one more time—”
“Silence!” Horde Prime roars. “You thought yourself worthy to challenge me, but your kind are nothing. You are a stain to be wiped clean.”
The chamber becomes smaller, and Adora’s throat is closing up. She can’t blink, she knows somewhere deep down that there’s no going back—
“How quickly you have proven to me that none among you are deserving of my good graces. Not even this one”—Catra cries out in pain—”will truly be pure! Twice you have refused me, so now I will take She-Ra from you by force. Your friends, your Catra… they have been led to their destruction. You have not obeyed me, and they are nothing but a waste to me now.”
Panic like she’s never felt takes Adora by storm. Catra’s face contorts in agony.
“No, please!! Let her go!”
Horde Prime bores into her with those terrible eyes, and says with finality, “You will suffer as she did. And she will suffer no more.”
Prime tightens his grip.
He lifts Catra by the throat, and crushes her neck beneath a clawed hand.
Her broken form drops with the weight of lifelessness.
Adora screams.
It is a haunting sound. It mingles with the cries of her friends and the thunderous pounding in her head.
She drops to her knees, throat stripped raw.
The clones no longer restrain her, and Adora stumbles her way to Catra’s side, kneeling over her body.
Catra, who for so long has been an impossibly vibrant presence in her life. Even on the battlefield or during their worst moments, Catra was a flame.
Now, she is a hollow husk, so tiny and shattered...
Adora reaches out with trembling hands and gently cradles Catra. She supports her head, strokes her hair.
When Adora brushes her cheek, she knows for certain that Catra is gone.
At the realization, something inside of her breaks. The information is too much to process. Everything but Catra fades into nothing.
Catra can’t be dead, this is a bad dream. It’s… it’s not real…
Adora numbly repeats the words to herself, until suddenly she feels another surge of adrenaline. It’s powerful and urgent, strikingly similar to what she felt back in that cave, when she had dared to hope that She-Ra had returned.
Only now, instead of strength and determination, it is warped.
It feels wrong.
Her numbness falls away, and Adora is once again aware of the outside world. Her pulse races dangerously.
There’s something building inside of her, and it’s dread, it’s fear, it’s rejection of the truth. It’s involuntary, magic that Adora can’t command…
Her breath catches in her lungs and there’s something in her gut, a physical tugging that feels like falling.
Adora looks around in panic and horror, and through her tears she can see a blue glow beginning to form.
She-Ra…?
The glow is sickly and pale, almost an imitation of her previous magic, and her skin shines with sweat. Adora fruitlessly clings tighter to Catra, sobbing once more, helpless in the face of this terrible power…
The tugging in her gut becomes a sharp pain, and there’s a feeling of siphoning, like the healing magic she’s so used to. The pain escalates into a searing heat and Adora lets out a gasp. The glow gets brighter, her vision blurs, and this is so like She-Ra but so unlike She-Ra and it’s all wrong and—
The grounding sensation of Catra in her arms begins to fade.
“No!! No no—”
She sees white, and her entire body becomes fire.
* * *
“—no no!”
Adora snaps into herself, words already on her lips, but Catra is gone. She is left holding nothing, nobody.
The sudden lack of pain shocks her into alertness, and she’s instantly aware that things are different.
Her pulse is still out of control, but…
She-Ra’s magic, whatever it was, has disappeared.
Adora is sitting down.
Adora is in a plain room, one that’s familiar and old.
Adora sees lights, far away in an expanse of black.
She is in space, but she is not looking at stars.
She is aboard Darla, staring at Horde Prime’s ship… and her friends are nowhere to be found. They must still be on board, and she’s been transported here, so far away from them, from Catra and Prime and unable to save anyone—
Adora rushes out of the captain’s seat and takes in the empty deck, tears flowing freely.
“No…”
She runs to the console, pointlessly reading data she can’t understand. She slams a fist down on the smooth metal, crying out, “Catra!! Glimmer!”
“Adora?”
Glimmer’s voice comes from nowhere, and Adora looks around frantically.
“Glimmer?! Where are you? Are you okay??”
Glimmer scoffs.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Are you okay? What’s going on?”
“But Prime—Catra is—where… how are you—”
“Adora, chill out! We’re stuck on the outside of Darla, just like you said. We’re still gonna rescue Catra, right? Kick Horde Prime’s ass?”
Adora is bewildered.
“I don’t… you’re safe?”
Entrapta chimes in, excitedly saying, “Yes! All spacesuits are standing up to the ship’s velocity, with zero loss of life!”
“Wait, what? That was a possibility?”
They’re fine? But Catra is…
Turbulence rocks the ship, and a warning appears on the console, splashing red light around the cabin.
Adora furrows her brow, and she can’t shake a feeling of familiarity.
“Alert. We are being pulled in by an outside force.”
She flashes back an hour, when she’d lived through this exact situation. But that was before Prime, before Catra was crushed and—
It’s like she hits a mental block, something in the back of her mind that tells her no, don’t think about it. Maybe it was a trick. Maybe Catra’s still alive.
Unaffected by Adora’s crisis, Darla is pulled forward into the hangar of Prime’s flagship. On instinct, Adora’s fingers find her compacted staff on her belt. But no, her staff was thrown into the abyss. This isn’t right...
Darla lands, and Adora rushes to the doors. She has to figure this out.
There’s a pounding in her head again, fresh and unrelenting. A million questions crowd her mind but the only thing she thinks of is Catra, her limp body, the tricks that Horde Prime plays...
I need to get to Catra, no matter what...
The ramp extends down into the stark white hangar, and Adora follows it, retracing her steps from just an hour before.
A group of clones gathers at the foot of the ramp, and Adora wipes away her tears. She’s breathing fast, trying so hard to put the doubt out of her mind.
If there’s even the slightest possibility that Catra’s still on this ship, she’s going to find her and bring her home. Properly this time.
She clenches her jaw, heart racing.
Adora tightly grips the staff that shouldn’t be, and rushes toward the clones with a desperate, heart-broken cry.