Evil Lynn watched the heroes advance on the temple in the globe atop her wand; she was having difficulty focusing, even at this close range, but managed to keep them in view. Beast Man looked over her shoulder, his hot, fetid breath coming in short bursts. “We should attack them now; they don’t even know we’re here,” he rasped.

She elbowed him hard. He grunted, and backed up a step. “No, we watch,” she said. “We don’t know what’s going on yet, and finding out is our main reason for being here. Let the heroes take the risks.”

“You cannot launch a surprise attack on them,” Ninjor said to Beast Man. “Clamp Champ is with them, and his senses would detect us long before we were in striking range. And we have no idea what this new ally of theirs is capable of. I agree with Evil Lynn. We shall wait.”

Beast Man grunted and plopped down on a large boulder. Blade, leaning against a nearby tree, observed silently. He was itching for a battle, but he would wait. No sense crossing Evil Lynn out of simple impatience. He then felt something bump against the small tree, and looked over to see Trap Jaw now propped on the opposite side. “So what do we do in the meantime?” the cyborg grumbled, absently scratching his metal jaw.

“We could always play a quick game of ‘kick the can’,” Blade said, a crooked smile on his face. “We’ve got an empty can right here.” He leaned over and tapped Trap Jaw’s helmet.

“Maybe we could figure out how many ways you can stick a sword into a wise guy,” Trap Jaw shot back.

“Silence, both of you!” Evil Lynn snapped. “I’m running a nursery for Skeletor,” she growled under her breath. She continued peering into the globe, as the heroes found their entrance.

***************************************************

Within the temple, Hiss stood in the middle of his throne room, remodeled to the point it was almost unrecognizable as a former hall of worship. Huge statues of the woodland creatures had been toppled and smashed, save for a few devoted to the wild reptiles. Some of the chunks form the fallen monuments had been used to construct a rough snake throne in his favored style, constructed on the remains of an altar. He took a perverse pleasure in all this, supplanting a deity with himself. It was appropriate, he thought, as he would soon be a god among gods, the magical lifeblood of three worlds flowing through his veins.

His preparations were complete. The first part of the spell had been completed perfectly and without interruption a week and a half before, a fortunate thing for both himself and the three worlds. Any misstep during the initiation spell would have sent the stones out of control, and destroyed everything, including him. A risk, but one worth taking, considering the rewards of success.

The moonrise was moments away, and his heart raced. His minions were prepared for the inevitable; he had granted them some of his own power to bolster their natural and supernatural abilities, as he was sure he would have uninvited visitors at the most inopportune moment. He-Ro might be long dead, but his present day counterpart was quite alive, and Hiss was certain He-Man would put in an appearance. In fact, he looked forward to it. As soon as the spell was completed, he would gleefully turn his newfound power on the champion of Eternia, and prove in his first act that he was the only true power on this or any world.

A small explosion overhead snapped him back to the present, as a shower of stone fell to the floor. He could hardly contain a smile; the heroes were here, right on cue. He turned to face his foes, and was honestly surprised at what he saw.

Skeletor.

“So, Hiss, what have you been doing in this dreary little temple?” the villain asked. “You didn’t even invite me over for a house warming; I’m hurt.”

Hiss looked at Skeletor, the surprise gone from his face, replaced by a look of exasperation. He was about to offer a retort when Skeletor raised his havoc staff and let loose with a volley of power blasts. Hiss easily dodged them, crouched, and responded with a fiery blast of his own. Skeletor ducked and rolled, then propped himself on one knee. “Such a warm welcome for me, old friend,” Skeletor quipped.

Hiss rose slowly, and stared at Skeletor, an unsettling smile slowly spreading across his lips. “You know, Skeletor, you are a bloody fool, but even I must admit, you possess a great deal of magical power. Enough, in fact, that I should be able to sense it clearly from here, even with the problems my little plan has caused.” The smile widened. “I don’t.”

Hiss shot both hands out, and fired a succession of magical fireballs at his skull-faced opponent; the first few missed as Skeletor moved and twisted, but one finally exploded close enough to knock the villain several feet into the air. He landed on the floor hard, moaning in pain as he fought to stay conscious. Sparks flew from his chest as his whole body started to waver. His face blurred, and assumed a human form, and his body followed suit seconds later. Man-E-Faces groaned as he tried to move, instinctively reaching for the holographic projection unit, a recent gift from Duncan, on his chest. With effort, his hand brushed across the small device, and felt the hole in the casing and the loose wires sticking out. He turned to look at his weapon, another gift, this one from the Sorceress; it, too, had reverted to its regular form, now an ornately designed laser pistol rather than the long havoc staff. He tried to reach it, but he was too weak.

Hiss chuckled, a bone chilling sound, and looked around the room; he saw no one, but knew he was not alone. “Greetings, He-Man. Let me guess: this pathetic actor was to distract me long enough for the rest of you to position yourselves for a quick offensive? If I were aware there were intruders, I’d prepare for Skeletor’s bumbling buffoons, rather than you and your able cohorts, allowing you a small element of surprise. Am I close?”

He-Man stepped out from behind one of the remaining statues. “Close enough, Hiss. And he did his job well.”

The other heroes emerged. “It looks like you’re pretty much outnumbered!” Gwildor boasted as he stepped forward.

“Really?” Hiss sneered. He raised his arms, and the air shimmered. In an instant, he was surrounded by his Snake Men and a few dozen of the Reptons, the only living descendants of his clan.

Duncan glared down at Gwildor, who was busily wringing his hands. “I have a big mouth sometimes,” he said softly.

*********************************************************

King Hiss stood behind his warriors, a wide, frightening smile on his face. The ranks were led by his faithful: Tung Lashor, Rattlor, Snake Face, Squeeeze, and his beloved Pythonia. Flanking them were a few dozen Repton lackeys, recruited from their underground kingdom; though mostly peaceful, there were some Reptons who harkened back to the ancient days when Hiss ruled all the reptile men. Hiss had no trouble convincing them to join him against the “plague of mammals infesting Eternia.”

The heroes gathered behind He-Man and Greystar. “Get the feeling he was ready for us no matter what?” He-Man said to Greystar, his eyes never leaving Hiss.

“Told you,” Greystar responded. “Concentrate on getting to him; the others are just to keep us busy.”

“I think they’ll succeed in that,” Fisto commented.

Hiss looked his enemies over, one by one, then settled his gaze on He-Man. “So this is what you bring to stop me? A couple of tired old men, a woman, three freaks of nature, and an imbecile? Is Eternos really in such sorry shape?” He looked at Gwildor and Weldon. “And two Thenurians? Starting a collection, He-Man?”

“He’s stalling,” Duncan warned, coming up beside He-Man. He looked over at Man-E-Faces, still lying on the floor, half conscious. “We need to get over to him before Hiss can.”

“You’re right on both counts, Duncan. Moonrise,” Greystar nodded. “The spell only works at moonrise. He doesn’t want us getting through to him in time to stop him.”

“I don’t see the stones anywhere,” Teela noted. “Why aren’t they here?” She looked directly at Greystar.

“They’re here, close; I can feel them,” he said, concentrating. “Can’t tell where, though. The emanations are jumbled from the reality breakdown.”

“Reality breakdown. Good description,” Duncan said. “If you’re right, we need to move, now. I’ll grab Manny.”

He-Man motioned quickly with his sword and charged forward; the others followed suit without hesitation. Duncan headed straight for Man-E-Faces, as did Rattlor. The reptile was fast, but Duncan just beat him to the fallen actor. Duncan dropped, shielding Man-E’s body with his own, and simultaneously swept a leg out, catching Rattlor’s right ankle, and sending the snake man tumbling. Rattlor hissed in frustration, and scrambled to get up, but Duncan was already moving back toward the statues and rubble by the far wall, Man-E slung over his shoulders. “Tired old man, eh?” he grumbled as he set Man-E down behind a tall pile of stone and masonry. Duncan positioned himself so he could see any incoming attacks, but also so he could keep an eye on Hiss.

The other warriors were faring well; Tung Lashor attempted to snare Teela from behind, but suddenly found his prehensile tongue being yanked hard enough to pull him off balance. He stumbled, but recovered quickly, just in time to feel Teela’s boot slam into his midsection. He grabbed her leg, but she twisted around, and, using his strong grasp on her leg to balance herself, brought her other leg up, striking him squarely along the side of his head. The strength of the blow stunned him long enough for her to pull her captive leg free, continue the arc she had started, and land nimbly on both feet. She then kicked out and up, her heel crashing into his jaw, closing it forcefully on his still flailing tongue. He howled in pain as her fist found his solar plexus. The air flew from his lungs, and he crumple to his knees, gasping. Her knee on the underside of his chin was the last thing he felt before passing out.

Ror quickly scanned the villains, and spotted Snake Face; the heroes had discussed strategies for a probable battle with the Snake Men, and Ror had opted to take Snake Face down. One look into the villain’s snake like eyes would be enough to cause complete paralysis for hours (thus the exaggerated reputation the villain had for “turning people to stone”).

The reptile smiled as he saw Ror charging him, and his odd appendages, looking like quivering snakes, shot from his eyes and mouth; he concentrated, priming his pshycic attack. All he needed was an instant of eye contact and he could shut down Clamp Champ’s nervous system. Then he noticed something odd; Clamp Champ had his eyes tightly closed. His scaly lips curled around his mouth appendage, and he stepped silently to the side and froze in place, slowing his major autonomic functions to a virtual stop. No sound, no movement, nothing for the hero to home in on. He would have to open his eyes to find his foe.

Except he didn’t. Ror kept coming, eyes still closed, never loosing the position of the snake man. Though Snake Face virtually stopped his heart and breathing, he couldn’t stop the hundreds of minute sounds his body made as his life processes proceeded, even at a reduced rate. He couldn’t hide his scent, or the slight rush of air over his body as it slowly circulated in the room. To Ror’s hyper-accute senses, the reptile might as well have been shouting, “Here I am!.” Ror smashed into his scaly adversary shoulder first, sending the snake man flailing backwards. Ror retracted the clamp on his weapon, and the grappling line shot out, entangling the villain. Snkae Face squirmed and cursed in a long dead language, but could not free himself. Ror released the line, and quickly grabbed a small scrap of torn tapestry lying nearby. He tied it around the reptile’s face, and finally opened his eyes. “Believe me, I’m doing you a favor covering that face,” he taunted as he leapt up to rejoin the battle.

Ram Man entered the fray in his own inimitable fashion, bouncing from wall to wall, bowling over several Reptons at a time as he passed, scattering others. He landed momentarily, and was immediately rushed by four Reptons. He waited until they were almost upon him, then bounced up into the air, leaving them to plow into each other at full speed. He thought, That’s puttin’ your heads together, but decided against saying it aloud after glancing over at Ror.

Fisto was kept busy grappling with Squeeeze. The ductile reptile had wrapped his elongated arms around the bearded warrior’s torso, pinning his arms and his huge right hand to his sides. Fisto could not get the leverage to break free, so he jerked himself back. Squeeze was caught of guard by the sudden move, but quickly allowed his arms to stretch to accommodate it. In giving the slack, however, he inadvertently loosened his grip on Fisto slightly. Sensing this, the burly fighter flexed his muscles and pushed his arms away from his sides with all his strength. The reptile’s arms unwound, and Fisto charged forward, his huge, metal encased fist thrust before him. Squeeze felt the massive fist smash into his chest, and then he was airborne, flying back with his long arms whipping wildly. He crashed to the floor, his arms strewn out around him.

Greystar and He-Man were occupied wading through the remaining Reptons, trying to make their way to Hiss. The older man had thrown off his cloak, and now stood clad in a grey molded metal chest plate and black trunks, with black boots not unlike He-Mans red ones. Thick ornate bands encircled his lower arms, and a small pouch hung from his belt. Despite his graying hair, it was obvious from his powerful build he was nowhere near past his prime. The guards were no real match for the pair, but sheer numbers kept the heroes’ progress slow. The Reptons were also surprisingly resilient, rising quickly when taken down. Greystar turned at a sudden thump behind him; Teela was flooring two Reptons with her battle staff. Sprawled on the floor, one of the pair reached over to retrieve his sword, but Teela slammed the heel of her boot down on the back of his hand. He screeched, and Teela brought the staff down on the base of his skull. His eyes glazed as consciousness left him, and his head plopped onto the hard stone floor.

“Care if I join you?” she asked.

He-Man smiled. “Help yourself to some lizards, Captain,”

The trio forged on, each trying to clear a way to the snake king. Teela moved off to the right to stave off a charging Rattlor, and was so intent on the battle she failed to see Hiss rise off the ground and levitate several feet above the floor. He eyed Teela and held up his left hand; a fireball formed as his wicked smile widened.

Greystar glanced up just in time to see the fireball charging toward the Captain of the Guard. She saw it, as well, and was just about to dodge when Greystar’s arm snagged her waist. He was in mid-leap, angling his body between her and the fireball. They fell to the floor together as the energy blast exploded on Greystar’s shoulder. He let out a sharp grunt, and his faced contorted in pain as he fell face down. Teela rolled when she hit the floor and came up, right arm out, firing the freeze ray in her wristband. Hiss dropped back to the floor, the beam just missing him. She turned back to Greystar. “Are you alright?” she asked, gently turning him over.

His eyes were still shut, his teeth gnashing. “Do I look alright?” he managed to groan.

“You look terrible,” she replied. His right shoulder was red and swollen, some of the skin charred. It looked bad, but she was fairly sure it wasn’t life threatening. She was also sure he was in agony.

He-Man had moved close to the duo, fending off the Reptons as Teela knelt beside the fallen warrior. “I’ve got to get him to cover,” she said. He-Man nodded over his shoulder. “Go!” Teela put her arm under his left, carefully helping him to his feet, then they took off for the piled rubble where her father watched over Man-E-Faces. “Father!” she shouted.

Duncan sprang forward, and took Greystar. He gently guided him back behind the rubble, and set him down. He looked back at Teela. “He’ll be fine. Go help He-Man!” he ordered.

She gave a quick nod and ran back into the fray. “Obeyed an order without an argument. Hmpf; guess thee is a first time for everything,” he chuckled under his breath.

“She is a bit headstrong,” Greystar agreed weakly.

Duncan smiled. “Tell me about it.” He looked down at the swollen shoulder, and reached into his chestplate, removing a small spry container. “Antiseptic,” he said as he squirted a fine mist on the wound.

Greystar sighed with relief as the pain subsided a bit. “Duncan, I’ll watch Man-E for you. They need you out there; you can’t let Hiss slip off to wherever he has the stones.”

“I’ve been watching him,” Duncan said. “He keeps glancing over toward the south wall when he thinks no one is looking. I’ll head over that way, cut him off if tries anything.” He frowned slightly, concerned. “You sure you can take care of yourself and him? That was a pretty nasty hit you took saving my daughter’s life.”

“Down, but not out. I can handle a few lizards.” Greystar managed a smile.

“Alright, just watch yourself.” Duncan crouched down, and started to move off; he stopped briefly and said, “I owe you a debt.”

“Stop Hiss, and I’ll consider it paid in full.”

Duncan ran out into the battle, his large battle mace in hand. He swung roundhouse style as he met up with three Reptons, sending them scrambling. As he brought the mace back around, he noticed Hiss slipping away from the battle, heading straight for the south wall. Duncan started to run after him, but was stooped short by a laser blast sizzling the floor inches in front of him.

“Leavin’ in such a hurry? Pretty rude, considering we just got here.”

Duncan instantly recognized the gravelly voice with a slight metallic echo. He turned just in time to see Trap Jaw let loose another laser blast in his direction. Duncan dove aside, but the blast caught the back of his leg. He hurriedly worked his way onto his feet, and whirled around, grimacing at the stabbing pain in his leg as he did so. His right arm shot up, and the small laser near the wristband popped up. Two quick blasts sent the cyborg ducking for cover; that’s when Duncan saw Evil Lynn and the others making their way toward the battle behind him. “Wonderful,” he groaned.

Hiss was also less than thrilled with the new arrivals, but he could delay no longer. Moonrise had come, and he had only moments to begin the spell. He hastened to the south wall, but stopped when he heard a familiar oscillating sound behind him. He turned on his heel, eyes blazing.

Skeletor materialized a few feet behind him, facing to the side. Hiss felt the dark lord’s power, so he knew he was facing no actor this time. He also noticed his enemy’s apparent surprise at his location. “Aim’s a bit off today, Skeletor?” he sneered.

The Lord of Destruction righted himself to face Hiss. “Amateurs messing with magics they can’t control always throws one’s game off a bit.”

“Much as I’d love to stay and trade barbs with you, I have things to attend to,” Hiss snarled, then threw his hands in front of him. A surge of static energy leapt from his fingertips, and surrounded Skeletor. Hiss whirled around and sprinted toward the wall once more.

Skeletor raised his havoc staff and struck the coruscating energy cage, sending a surge of his own power through it. It wavered, and then dissipated. Whatever the snake king was doing, it was obviously coming to a head, judging by his haste. He raised his staff to teleport ahead of Hiss, then thought better of it; whatever was affecting Eternia was playing havoc with his own magic. His next teleport might land him inside a wall. He realized Hiss had too much of a lead to catch him, and Skeletor was certain he didn’t want the slimy little reptile succeeding in whatever he was doing, if not just on general principle. So he did the only thing he could, though it absolutely froze his soul.

“He-Man! Hiss!” Skeletor shouted, pointing at the snake man.

He-Man turned at the voice, and was dumbfounded for an instant. It was Skeletor, and he was warning them about Hiss making his break. The natural laws really are going crazy, he thought. Fisto heard the warning as well, and both men started after Hiss.

Skeletor had hesitated an instant too long in giving his warning, however; Hiss was only a few feet from the wall when the two heroes started toward him. He uttered a few words in the snake men’s language, and the wall split open before him. He ran through the narrow opening without breaking stride, and the wall slid tightly shut once more.

Fisto reached the wall before He-Man, less than a minute after Hiss, and reared his enormous fist back as he charged the wall at full speed. He swung hard, and the wall cracked and buckled. Another quick blow collapsed the wall completely, and Fisto bounded through the opening. He could already hear an unfamiliar language echoing loudly through the corridor ahead of him. The sound floated out into the main chamber.

Greystar heard the sing-song chanting, and furrowed his brow; Hiss had started the spell, but something was wrong. The language was right, he thought, but it was the wrong dialect, one used only if…

His eyes grew wide, and he struggled to get to his feet. “Ancients, no!” he gasped. “He-Man!” he shouted, his voice hoarse. “Stop Fisto! He’ll destroy us all!”

************************************************

“Can you please tell me again why we’re doing this?” Gwildor asked as he crawled through the narrow conduit. Just ahead of him, Weldon, also down on all fours, sighed.

“I told you: the main chamber’s way too short. Hiss must have walled off the southern part of it after he moved in, made some kind of secret chamber or something.”

“Maybe it was a ‘sacred storage room,’” Gwildor said, dripping sarcasm.

Weldon grunted. “These conduits should run over the entire chamber; if he didn’t seal them off, it should take us past the south wall to whatever he’s hiding.”

“And if he did seal them off?”

“Not likely; he didn’t find the garbage chutes, so why would he notice these air passages?” Weldon tried to turn and look at Gwildor, but conked his head on the wall instead. He grunted again.

“But why us? Why not tell the others?” Gwildor complained.

“Because, Mr. Cooperation, He-Man couldn’t even get his bulgy arm through these things, much less the rest of him. We fit, they don’t. Besides, they have their hands full. We’re doing more here than we could back there.” Weldon stopped for a moment where another conduit intersected theirs, and looked down at the compass in his hand. He shuffled past the other corridor, and said, “Think of it as an adventure.”

“I don’t like adventures,” Gwildor sighed.

*****************************************************

Teela saw Fisto hammer his way through the wall on the south side of the chamber. She would have followed, but found Blade standing in her way. She raised her arm to fire her freeze ray, but a small knife, no bigger than her finger, flew from blade’s hand and imbedded itself in the slender barrel emerging from her wrist band. He followed with a slash of his sword, which barely missed her midsection. Another slash by its mate nicked her arm as she ducked aside. Blade became a veritable windmill, his twin swords whirling through the air, each in turn. Teela dropped and rolled, coming up again next to an unconscious Repton. The lizard man still clutched a sword loosely in his hand. She reached down and grabbed it, barely avoiding another swipe of the swordsman’s steel. She brought the sword up in time to parry his next swing. A savage grin crossed his lips, and he pressed forward, obviously savoring the contest. She met each blow of his blades, and a quick twist of her wrist sent the sword in his left hand clattering the floor. “Nice move,” he snarled, then brought his other blade up, and neatly duplicated her maneuver. Her sword went flying to the side, well out of reach. She dodged his next blow, feeling the wind whip past her ear as the sword missed her by inches, and quickly snatched his lost weapon off the floor.

Blade’s eyes narrowed, and his voice was a guttural rasp. “No one touches my blades!” He charged forward, and his sword flashed, almost a blur. The blows came in rapid succession, and Teela had all she could do to fend them off. He pulled back for a sweeping cut, and she dropped to the floor, her leg shooting out toward him. The heel of her boot rammed into his kneecap, and it bent backwards slightly. He yelped, and almost dropped his remaining sword. Teela rolled, propped herself up on outstretched arms, and kicked it from his hand. He moved forward, and cried out again, falling to the floor as his knee gave out. She kicked both swords across the room, and bolted over towards her father.

Beast Man and Trap Jaw flanked Duncan, slowly circling the warrior. He watched them both from the corners of his eyes, waiting for their move. Trap Jaw fired a blast from his laser, trying to catch Duncan in the torso. Unfortunately for the cyborg, Man-at-Arms was already moving, having spotted the slight twitch in Trap Jaw’s shoulder just before he fired. He dove to the side, catching Beast Man’s whip as he went past. The weapon was yanked from the furry henchman’s hand before he could react, and an instant later, it was cracking through the air at Trap Jaw. The metal marauder instinctively backed up and nearly tripped over Teela. As he turned, she nimbly shoved Blade’s small knife into the barrel of his laser, dislodging the small crystal that focused the beam. The laser was already in firing mode, and the device sputtered as he desperately tried to deactivate it. He finally yanked it out, not bothering to release the mechanism properly, and tried to toss it aside. Teela blocked it, and it flew over towards Blade. His knee still unresponsive, Blade covered his head as it landed next to him with a shower of metal and sparks. “You metal moron!! Are you trying to fry me?!!”

“Sounds like a good idea to me! Now shut up and help!” Trap Jaw leaned forward, snapping his jaw at Teela. He laughed as she backed up, but then she stopped, and looked behind him. He eyed her suspiciously. “Incoming,” she said with a smile. He heard a rush of air, and spun around in time to see the top of Ram Man’s head racing toward him. The next thing he knew, he was flying toward Beast Man; they collided with a loud “thud.” Duncan quickly pulled out a porta-prison, and caged the duo.

****************************************************

He-Man had heard Greystar’s warning above the sounds of battle; he was almost to the gaping hole Fisto had left in the south wall seconds before. He followed the voice, and saw the older warrior leaning against the remains of one of the temple’s smashed statues, a look of pain and horror on his face. The urgency in his voice over-rode He-Man’s doubts about his mysterious new ally, and he shouted as he reached the wall. “Fisto!” His deep baritone echoed down the down the dim corridor. “Wait!” He-Man furrowed his brow; this time, there was no echo, no sound at all. Even Hiss’ chanting had suddenly stopped. He looked back and spotted Skeletor, havoc staff raised and glowing, bounding toward him.

Skeletor had heard Greystar’s warning, as well. He had hesitated for an instant; things were moving far too fast, and he still had no real idea what was going on, a few words about stones and a reality breakdown the only things he had, so far, caught. He hated operating in the dark, but he did know two things: Hiss might well succeed if Fisto didn’t stop him, and whatever chaos might ensue if the vile snake was stopped would doubtless occupy the heroes, if the worried insistence in the stranger’s voice was any indication. And having blame for whatever problems arose placed squarely on Fisto’s shoulders would be icing on the cake. Skeletor never forgot a betrayal, and his former lackey’s turn to the side of good still irked him to this day.

The decision was made, and the dark lord had taken off to stop He-Man, first with a buffer field to block any possible warnings of impending disaster. He-Man was startled, Skeletor saw, but not enough to stop him from chasing after his friend and ally. If Skeletor were to slow He-Man down, he would have to risk teleporting ahead of him. Considering his earlier problems, the thought was not a thrilling one. But the lord of destruction felt power in the air, and he decided it was worth the chance.

His body wavered, and then was gone. He re-appeared in the corridor, not as far from He-Man as he had intended. He also noticed, with no small amount of distress, that he was less than an inch from the wall. Teleportation was definitely going to be out of the question for the duration. “Now, now, He-Man. Fisto is off to do a good deed. Let’s not interrupt the dear boy.”

He-Man looked past Skeletor, but could see only a few feet before his view was blocked by a quivering energy field. “Out of the way, Skeletor,” He-Man warned.

“Stop Fisto and you help Hiss, hero. Why would the champion of good want to do that?” Skeletor taunted.

Because someone I know nothing about just told me to, He-Man thought. His faith in the Sorceress was being sorely tested right now, but if she trusted Greystar, he had to, as well. And the fear he saw in the man’s face was real; even Man-E could not act that well. “Skeletor, I don’t have time for this. Or you,”

“Make time, muscle man!” the villain growled. He raised his staff as He-Man raised his sword.

******************************************************

Fisto heard He-Man call his name, and stopped; he listened for a moment, but heard nothing more. Even the sounds of battle had stopped. He didn’t like that a bit, and turned. He found himself facing a fuzzy wall of energy, blocking his path back. He could neither hear nor see anything through it. He turned back, and continued down the short corridor. Whatever was happening on the other side of the barrier, he was sure the others could handle it. He had to stop Hiss.

He quickly came to the end of the passage, and saw Hiss standing, chanting over three orbs floating in a cradle of light. “The three stones,” he said to himself as he barreled forward. He only got a few steps before he slammed into a force field at the entrance to the small chamber. He reared back his fist, and delivered a powerful blow; the field stood fast. Hiss looked up, still chanting, and an arrogant smile curled his lips.

**************************************************

Weldon stopped suddenly in the passage, and Gwildor nearly rear-ended him. “I hear Hiss down there,” he said softly. He moved a few feet forward, and found a loose stone about three feet in diameter nestled into the floor of the tunnel. “This is the access point!” he proclaimed. He carefully lifted the stone, and pushed it forward, not an easy task in the cramped quarters, exposing a large hole. “We can get down from here.”

“How far is the drop?” Gwildor asked.

“Not far,” Weldon replied, grasping the sides of the hole, lowering himself down. He was halfway through when he stopped.

“What’s wrong? Why did you stop?” Gwildor demanded.

Weldon released his grip, and remained there. “Either the air is darned hard around here, or I’m standing on a force field.” He looked down. “Hiss is down there with the stones; looks like he’s casting the spell.”

“Is there anything we can do?” Gwildor asked desperately.

Weldon looked down again. “I could moon him.”

***********************************************************

Fisto pounded the force field again, putting all his strength behind it; it wavered slightly, but it held. Hiss’ voice was rising, the chants becoming more emphatic. He was well into the spell, perhaps almost finished; Fisto wasn’t sure. Frustrated, he slammed his fist on the ground. He saw a few small pebbles drop in front of him. Glancing through the force field, he noticed the same had happened in the chamber.

Hiss continued with the spell, listening to Fisto’s vain attempts to break through the field. He had created the field to be a nano-second out of sync with the normal time-line; it was solid enough to keep anyone out, but not situated firmly enough in this time frame to be seriously affected by the deteriorating natural laws. He looked up at Fisto again and the gloating grin returned once more. Fisto’s reaction, however, wiped the grin from the snake king’s face.

Fisto smiled back.

***********************************************************

At the entrance to the corridor, He-Man and Skeletor traded blows in a familiar manner, each gaining no ground. There was little room for a battle, and it hampered He-Man more than the dark lord; the champion of Grayskull had to force his way past, and Skeletor needed only to stand his ground.

Without warning, the entire corridor shook, throwing both hero and villain off balance. “What trickery is this, He-Man?” Skeletor asked. Then he looked down the corridor, and laughed. “Fisto,” he said. “I think Hiss is about to have his plans shaken to the ground.”

He-Man took the opportunity to force his way past Skeletor toward the energy wall. “Fisto, no! Stop!” he shouted. He held his sword high as another jolt rocked everything.

*************************************************

The bearded warrior brought his powerful fist down again with all his strength, striking the ground a second time. The entire structure shook, almost toppling Hiss on the other side of the force field. The snake man continued with the spell, but the look of desperation in his eyes told Fisto his attack was working; hiss was genuinely frightened. A third blow brought small chunks of the ceiling raining down, one striking Hiss on the back, others bouncing of the magnetic field holding the stones. He winced, but did not stop. A fourth blow brought more of the ceiling down, and this time a large piece glanced off Hiss head. He was cut off in mid-word, and stumbled forward. It took only a second for him to shake off the effects of the blow, but it was too late. He looked at the stones, panic in his eyes. The spell had been interrupted.

Another large piece fell in the corner of the chamber, landing on a large, complex machine. It passed partially through the device, then stopped. The machine vibrated for a moment, sputtered, and finally exploded. Fisto heard a yelp, then saw Weldon suddenly drop from a hole in the ceiling, cursing in Thenurian all the way down. He then realized the device must have been the force field generator, because the transparent barrier was now gone. He bolted into the room, catching Weldon before he struck the floor. “Nice save,” Weldon said, the color returning to his face. Fisto put him down, and looked over at Hiss.

“You bloody, bloody fool!” Hiss roared. “You’ve just destroyed your entire world!” He whirled around, touched a spot on the wall, and waited impatiently as a hidden panel opened. He slipped through quickly, and the panel closed. A second later, a section of the ceiling gave way, and came crashing down, blocking the panel completely.

“Are you up to another game of catch?” Weldon asked Fisto, pointing straight up. Fisto glanced upwards, and saw Gwildor peeking over the edge of the hole.

“Jump down!” Fisto yelled.

“Are you kidding?” Gwildor said.

“You can jump, or you can come down with the rest of the roof!” Fisto insisted.

Gwildor looked around at the crumbling structure. He then noticed something in the center of the room: the magnetic field holding the stones was gone, but they still hung in space. They were also glowing, and he was sure he heard a low rumbling sound.

Fisto and Weldon heard the sound, as well. They looked over at the stones, and felt the ground start to tremble again. “Oboy,” Weldon said softly. He trotted over and tried to grab one, but it wouldn’t budge. Then it flared brightly, causing Weldon to pull his hand back with a start. “Ouch! They’re hot!”

The shaking grew worse, and Fisto ran over to try to move the stones with his right hand, but to no avail. He pulled his hand back, and saw melt marks on the metal glove. “We have to get out of here. “Gwildor! Now!!” Fisto screamed. The small techno wizard scampered to forward, slipped, and plunged downward headfirst. Fisto caught him, maneuvered him under his left arm, and grabbed Weldon with the other.