When Mekaneck pulled the battle ram into Blackmore an hour later, he craned his bionic neck up almost twenty feet to gain a better view of the small village. The streets were deserted, and there was no sign of life in any of the houses he could see, either. He lowered his head and turned to his teammates. Kittrina had already hopped off the back of the ram and climbed to the roof of a nearby house to look around. Buzz Off and Stratos were hovering by the vehicle, testing the wind currents before venturing higher. Though it was mid-morning, the town was in an eerie twilight thanks to the cloud cover, and that combined with the absence of any townsfolk gave Mekaneck an uneasy feeling. The wind was strong, but not howling by any means; someone should have heard something as big as the battle ram, especially the way the motor had been grinding the last half hour or so. “Where the blazes are the people?” he said to no one in particular.

“I don’t see a soul,” Kittrina said, somersaulting down from the rooftop and landing on all fours. She straightened, and trotted back to the ram. “Maybe they evacuated?”

“I don’t think so,” Stratos said, hovering a bit higher than before, gazing over a nearby building. He swooped over the structure, followed by Buzz Off. Kittrina bounded up the side of the building and bolted across the roof, leaving Mekaneck to run around it, trying to keep up. “Maybe some bionic legs,” he huffed as he caught up to his comrades. They were all looking at four sets of tracks, all but one deep and wide, obviously from large vehicles. The odd set was smaller and familiar. “Roton,” Stratos concluded.

“Roton?” Kittrina asked.

“One of skull head’s vehicles,” Mekaneck explained. “Either he or his henchmen were here. And the larger tracks look to be transports.”

“Skeletor doesn’t have anything like that,” Buzz Off said. “At least, not that I’ve ever seen.”

“Wouldn’t need them,” Stratos injected. “I spotted a mining colony not far from from here on one of my recon flights…”

“The one where you almost nose dived into us, or the one where you did the belly flop into the tree?” Kittrina broke in, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

Stratos grinned sheepishly. “You try staying aloft in this weather. Anyway, they had a couple big transport vehicles, and it looked like they had space for a few more.”

“So Skeletor’s flunkies could have just stolen them form there.” Mekaneck shook his head. “But what were they hauling? The villagers?”

“Explains why no one seems to be around now, doesn’t it?” Buzz Off said.

“Let’s fan out; maybe someone’s still here.” Mekaneck looked around, his head popping up slightly. “Kittrina and I will check out the eastern half of town, you two check the western half. It’s a small village, so we should be able to canvas it fast. We’ll meet back here in fifteen minutes.”

“Let’s get going, Buzz,” the birdman said, arcing into the sky, his flying companion close behind.

Mekaneck and Kittrina headed off to the east, with the lithe cat taking once again to the rooftops. They hadn’t gotten far when she stopped suddenly and crouched on the edge of a small house, her tail whipping furiously behind her. Mekaneck rushed over and his head shot up to her. “Spot something?” he asked.

“Over there; movement by that stable.” Her voice was low and throaty, almost a purr. Every muscle in her body was taut, ready to spring.

He strained to see in the dim lighting for a long moment, but detected nothing. He switched on the special light gathering lens Duncan had installed in his visor, and took another look. He could see far more detail now, but still couldn’t find anything. Then a small blur, roughly human in shape, darted between two stalls. “I see it!” he said quietly, turning to his feline companion. He saw only a few floating tufts of fur where Kittrina had been seconds before; she was already down, and bolting for the stables at top speed. She was at the gate before his head settled once again on his shoulders.

Kittrina vaulted over the gate and landed silently, her eyes darting back and forth over the stable. She spotted the stall the shadowy form had disappeared into, and slowly crept over to it. Her ears wriggled slightly as she heard a soft rustling; she crouched down again, and lunged into the stall, claws first.

Mekaneck had just reached the front gate when he heard a crash and then a loud yowling. “Kittrina!” he shouted.

He received no response.

He-Man led the way out of the dimensional portal, scanning his surroundings with a bit of concern as Teela, Duncan, and the others followed. Unfortunately, the portal had put them in the middle of a city street, and not a deserted one. He heard a loud, annoying noise behind them, and turned to see a large vehicle with a portly man hanging out its open window.

“Hey, ya moron, get outta the road ‘fore I turn ya into road kill!!” the man shouted, shaking his fist. Teela turned and opened her mouth to respond, her eyes narrowed, but He-Man quickly grabbed her arm and waved an apology to the irate driver.

“Why did you do that?” she huffed.

“Because the last thing we need right now is to fight with the natives,” He-Man said. “We’ve attracted enough attention already.”

“He’s right,” Duncan agreed. “I think we’d better find someplace a little less crowded to get our bearings.” He looked over and saw a woman staring slack jawed at Orko as the Trollan floated in front of her. She caught his glance, and pointed at the alien. “What is that?” she asked, mystified.

“Special effects test for a movie,” He-Man said before Duncan could respond, hustling everyone into a nearby alley. He motioned to Orko to follow, leaving the women standing there with her face locked into a befuddled expression.

“I think I know what you mean by special effects, but what’s a movie?” Man-E-Faces asked.

“The queen told me about them. A movie is like a video recording shown on a big screen,” He-Man explained. “They’re very popular here.”

“To each his own,” Gwildor said. “I’m not sure she believed you, though.”

“I think we’ve got more important things to worry about than confusing the natives,” Duncan said. “Orko, are you feeling anything from the stone?”

The Trollan closed his eyes, and tried to focus. “I feel something. It’s a ways off, but not a long ways.”

“Lucky it’s not halfway around the planet,” Ror said.

“We shouldn’t be too far away; we tried to home in on the stones a little when we opened the portals. Uncle Montork is really good at stuff like that.” Orko pressed his eyes closed even tighter, concentrating. “It’s off that way,” he announced, pointing southwest.

A strong clap of thunder rumbled through the alleyway, and Orko opened his eyes with a start. The group looked skyward almost as one, peering up at the heavy, dark clouds overhead, thicker even than those they had seen on Eternia. Bright bolts of lightning flashed off to the north, where the sky seemed an almost solid black. The wind was strong, and a light rain was starting to fall.

“Looks like things aren’t going very well here, either. I wonder how widespread this cloud cover is?”

“Perhaps if we explained our problem to someone in authority, we could get a quick rundown on what’s been happening here,” Gwildor suggested.

“Great idea, shortstuff. ‘Hi there, I’m from another planet and just wanted to know how your weather is doing.’ They’ll take us to the nearest mental institution,” Ror pointed out.

“This world isn’t exactly used to visitors like us; remember the troubles we had last time,” Duncan agreed. “Even if we could convince them, it would take time I don’t think we have.”

“So we try to get to the stone and not panic the populace,” Man-E-Faces said. “One thing on our side, the storms are probably keeping some people indoors. There’s folks walking around, but it doesn’t seem too crowded.”

“Um, it may be getting a little more crowded in a minute,” He-Man said, spotting a black and white vehicle with flashing lights stopping across from the alley. “Unless something’s changed around here, that looks like the authorities we were just talking about.”

“A hasty exit might be called for,” Gwildor said, starting down the alley, but a sudden rush of air quickly stopped him. Before him, the alley warped and distorted as a dimensional portal formed; the gate was far from stable, though, as it wobbled noticeably. Without warning, the gate spit out two of Skeletor’s henchmen, Triklops and Clawful. They tumbled over each other as they hit the pavement, but regained their balance almost immediately. Triklops looked up at the heroes with the single square shaped eye on his forehead, and pulled his sword from the scabbard on his back. Clawful rose from the ground, the huge claw on his right arm snapping furiously.

“This really isn’t my day,” He-Man sighed, unsheathing his power sword.

“You couldn’t be more right, hero,” Clawful snarled, lunging claw first at Eternia’s champion. He-Man dodged to the left, catching Clawful’s deadly right arm, and using the crab creature’s own momentum to hurl him around into a row of garbage cans. Trash flew in all directions.

“Bet that smells,” Orko said.

“Yeah; I think the garbage is going to stink, too,” Ror quipped as he zeroed in on Triklops, grabbing his clamp from his back. Triklops brought his sword up and slashed down hard at the hero, but Ror caught the blade in the jaws of his clamp. The jaws flattened around the sword, holding it tight as Ror commanded his weapon to re-route a strong electrical charge through Tri-Klop’s blade. The three-eyed villain yelped in surprise and pain, but held on. Their struggle was interrupted by an unfamiliar female voice.

“Freeze, people!” a policewoman shouted, her gun drawn and aimed at He-Man. Behind her, three other officers had drawn their own weapons, trying to cover the group of Eternians as best they could. “You, big guy with the pig sticker, put the sword down now!”

“That isn’t a very good idea right now,” He-Man said, glancing over at Clawful, who was getting up from his bed of trash. Triklops and Ror were still locked together, neither budging.

“I think it’s a very good idea, mister. I’m not asking again. Put…it…down!” Her voice was emphatic, and her finger was tensed on the trigger.

He-Man slowly lowered his sword, and tried to smile reassuringly. “Alright, I’m not arguing. But those two,” he pointed to Skeletor’s men, “are extremely dangerous. Don’t take any chances with them.”

“Lies, villain!” Clawful shouted. “These blackguards ambushed us here, attacked us without warning. They’re trying to destroy us!”

“Hey, knock that off; everbody can tell we’re the good guys!” Orko protested.

“Look, folks, I don’t really have the patience for this Dungeons and Dragons junk tonight, so everybody just take of the costumes, put down the weapons, and we’ll all go to the station to sort this out.”

Triklops finally released his sword, and Ror let it fall to the ground, lowering his clamp. He kept his eyes on the villain, but tried to follow what was going on at the mouth of the alley. Triklops was intent on the police, specifically their car. The thick band around his head spun, and a triangular eye settled in place. “What are you up to, three-eyes?” Ror asked warily.

“Just wanted a better look,” Triklops answered innocently. He stared past the officers, and looked around and into their vehicles with his gamma vision. He’d smelled an oily, burning scent when they pulled up, one he recognized from the Horde vehicles Skeletor had “borrowed” from Hordak over the years. It was a highly combustible fuel, and from what he could see of the engines here, they used something very similar. He also noticed Man-at-Arms had his laser pistol hanging from his belt. If he only had a chance to get it…

Clawful gave him that chance. The crab man unexpectedly lunged at the police officers; they responded with several rounds form their service revolvers, all of which bounced off his scaly chest armor. Ror looked away and Man-at-Arms reached for his pistol. Triklops shot toward Duncan; Ror sensed the movement before he saw it, and was right behind the villain, his hand inches from grabbing his foe, when he heard another shot. A searing pain lanced through his left leg, and he stumbled. He would have toppled over if not for his overactive sense of balance, but it slowed him enough so that Triklops eluded his grasp. Duncan caught sight of the three-eyed miscreant too late, and found his pistol flying through the air, only to land in Triklop’s hand. He wasted no time firing several shots, not at the officers, but at the closest vehicle. Smoke poured from the rear of the car as Duncan slammed into Triklops, knocking the pistol from his hand in the process.

“Everybody down!” shouted the female officer just as flames started shooting from the car’s trunk.

He-Man remembered enough from their last trip to Earth and his mother to realize an explosion was imminent. He charged past the police as they ran for cover, and grabbed the front end of the burning car. He hoisted it with ease, and positioned it over his head, bending his knees and elbows. All at once, he straightened, and the car went hurtling skyward, exploding in mid-air. As he’d hoped, the move had given the bystanders enough time to scatter, so the debris fell on an empty street.

Andrea Steel sat on her couch, punching the channel button on the televison’s remote control. Only about every third or fourth channel actually showed anything but snow, and most of those were fuzzy themselves. She finally located a news broadcast, hoping there would be an update on the terrible storms that were blanketing the whole planet. She had heard about the growing cloud cover, as well as increased seismic activity, at work last night. Things had been getting a little strange there the previous few days, with unexplained technical difficulties and experiments going awry, and now nature itself seemed to be on the attack. There was something unnatural about it, she felt, despite assurances from government agencies that everything was under control and was being dealt with.

The top story was indeed the growing problems worldwide, as communications satellites failed and computers crashed around the globe. Scientists were, for the most part, at a loss; some argued it was shifting magnetic fields, while others pointed to global warming. A few now considered crackpots had claimed something was affecting the lay lines of the earth, draining the planet of some vital psychic energy. The fact was, no one knew for sure, and that was fueling panic everywhere. People weren’t laughing at the inevitable doomsayers holding signs proclaiming, “The end is near!” today. Some were beginning to believe it. She had tried to contact one of the few friends she still had at NASA, but they were as baffled as anyone else.

As she stared at another weather expert trying to make sense of the senseless storm patterns, a special, live report broke in.

“This is Erika Scheimer for KTCX news, live at the scene of a fierce battle with local police. Several unidentified individuals began attacking officers a few minutes ago here by the intersection of Oppenheimer and Detillo; so far, numerous shots have been fired.” The camera started to zoom in over the reporter’s shoulder, but the transmission was poor, and it was hard to make out anything but general shapes.

Andrea reached over to the coffee table, and picked up her cup of tea, now lukewarm from sitting while she channel surfed. She started to take a sip when the camera caught a large man running out into the street, picking up a police car, and throwing it up into the air. Choking as she dropped the cup, her eyes went wide in disbelief as the camera zoomed in on the burly man with long blonde hair and fur trunks.

“Oh…my…God!” she whispered. She scrambled off the couch, snatched up her purse, and raced out the door.

“Adora!” Glimmer shouted as she caught site of the rebellion’s leader walking into camp, accompanied by Fisto and a small, female Trollan. “What took you so long?” There was concern in Glimmer’s voice, and a slight trace of annoyance.

“The Horde has been able to penetrate the edge of the woods,” Adora explained. “They can’t get more than a few hundred feet, but I had to make sure before I came back.”

“We were starting to worry; with everything that’s been happening, the last thing we need is to lose track of you right now.” Glimmer wasn’t placated.

“Seems you’ve done fine without me,” Adora assured her.

Glimmer eyed her with mock-suspicion. “Flattery is a scoundrel’s tool, Adora.” She smiled then, letting the subject drop, and getting back to the problems facing them. “So did you find out what Hordak is up to?”

“Actually, it isn’t Hordak. Fisto and Dree-Elle are here to help us deal with it; seems the problem started on Eternia, but it involves Etheria and Earth, as well.”

Glimmer realized she had been so intent on her prodigal friend she hadn’t even acknowledged Fisto or his floating companion’s presence. “Hello, both of you. Dree-Elle? Orko’s Dree-Elle?”

“Yes,” the Trollan replied quietly; though she couldn’t see Dree-Elle’s face, Glimmer could swear she was blushing.

“Let us fill you in,” Adora led Glimmer back to the center of the camp, explaining the crisis as they went. Glimmer noticed Fisto was extremely quiet; she had only met him once before, but he seemed a bit more outgoing at the time. Now, he was almost sullen. A rumble of thunder interrupted the discussion as the whole camp shook. Glimmer noticed Fisto looking around at the startled rebels, a sad, pained expression on his face. She soon realized why, as Adora continued.

Bow dismounted his steed, and quickly looked over the scene; some the village of Thaymore still stood, but much of it was now piles of rubble and wind blown debris. The Horde itself couldn’t have done a better job attacking the town, he thought. He spotted several fellow rebels helping to clear the town square, and walked over, leading Arrow by his reins. “Need some help here?” he asked.

The rebels and townspeople turned, and many of their eyes lit up on seeing him, much to Bow’s delight. He heard a few whispers of his name; he was one of the better-known rebels, and the performer in him couldn’t help but occasionally bask in his celebrity, or infamy, from the Horde’s perspective. His ego was quickly checked, however, when he caught a snippet of conversation from two men clearing some debris from the street. “They sent us the musician? What’s he going to do, sing this junk off the streets?”

He grimaced at the comments, but focused quickly on those who seemed a bit more excited at his presence.

“Bow, thank the First Ones! We thought the big guys had forgotten about us,” one of the women said.

“The rebellion forgets no one,” he said with as much pomposity as he could muster. “Your runner told us about the tornadoes. We’re stretched a little thin right now, but we wanted to make sure you all know we will be there to help you rebuild.”

“We could use some muscle to help clear out some of this!” It was Bow’s detractor again.

Bow forced a smile, and stepped toward the nearest mound of flotsam. “Of course. Let’s see if we can clear a path here.” Though a performer and music maker foremost, Bow was still a fairly powerful man, hefting some of the larger chunks of debris with surprising ease. Manual labor wasn’t his favorite pastime, however, and he began to wish he had tried a little harder to convince Glimmer to send him after Adora. Still, the village obviously needed all the help it could muster, and he could offer a little extra in addition to his physical might. “Perhaps a song would help the job go faster?” he offered, and started in on a favorite tune before anyone could answer. A few of the villagers exchanged odd looks, but most began to join in before long.

They had been working for over half an hour when a figure appeared in the sky; Bow soon realized only he was still singing or working, and followed everyone else’s gaze. The intruder was still in the distance, hard to identify with the darkened skies. “Horde flyers!” shouted one frightened citizen.

Bow held up his hands and said in a steady voice, “Please, everyone, calm down. We don’t know what it is yet, so let’s not panic.” He smiled and tried to appear calm himself, though his arm was tensed and ready to grab his bow at the slightest provocation.

After a few tense moments, the object was finally close enough for Bow to make out a familiar set of wings. His face burst into a wide grin, and he began waving. To the crowd, he said happily, “No reason to worry! It’s Flutterina!”

“First a singer, now a butterfly,” Bow heard the detractor mutter. “Maybe I oughtta join the Horde.” Several stern glares in his directions set the man to busily inspecting his boots. Bow’s grin widened.

Flutterina set down gently a few yards away. She flipped her head back, trying to push aside the long, windblown purple hair hanging in her face. She looked a bit disheveled, and Bow had to assume her trip had not been an easy one. Even so, several male jaws dropped open as she walked over to Bow.

“Flutterina! Are you my reinforcements?” Bow asked, clasping her shoulders.

“Glimmer sent me to bring you back to camp; some people from Eternia are here, and they say they know what’s been causing all of this.” She gestured at the devastation around them. “Some of the others are coming to help out here, but she and Adora want you back as soon as you can.”

“I’m on my way,” he said, waving to the townsfolk. “More help will be here shortly. Sorry I can’t stay, but I’ve been called back to Whispering Woods. Good luck, my friends.” With characteristic flourish, he mounted Arrow, and sped of toward the rebel base. Flutterina took to the skies behind him.

“Hope the next guy can sing better,” the detractor whispered to himself.

Adora stood before the team she assembled, fielding final questions before they left to search for the stone, Glimmer beside her. Bow and Futterina had returned, and a few allies had been gathered from nearby kingdoms. Castaspella, the monarch of Mysticor, had journeyed to the Woods. Having felt the magical imbalance, she hoped the rebels would have some idea what was happening to Etheria. Though she knew her advisors and aides could handle the situation, she was loath to leave her kingdom behind during the crisis, but she knew her magics would be sorely needed on the quest ahead. Frosta, the empress of the ice kingdom, had been visiting Mysticor to finalize a mutual protection pact against the Horde when the world started falling apart; travel back to her palace far to the north was now impossible, so she had joined Casta on her trip here. Rounding out the team was Spinerella, a young woman with an incredible amount of power in her spinning form.

“Kowl and Madame Razz are out contacting She-Ra right now, so she should be joining you shortly. After that, they’ll be patrolling the edge of the woods with me to make sure the Horde can’t breach it,” Adora concluded.

“You won’t be coming with us?” Bow asked.

“We can’t afford to have myself, Glimmer, and She-Ra all on one mission with this crisis at hand. You’ll need them far more than me, I’m afraid.” She turned to Fisto, who had been hovering about behind her with Dree-Elle. “Fisto, they’re all yours.”

“Thanks, Adora; with help like this, we’ve got a chance.” He offered his left hand to shake hers; he’d accidentally injured too many innocent fingers using his oversized right appendage.

Adora wished everyone luck, and nodded to Glimmer as she left, a signal for the young woman to take over for her. There had been some rough times in the past between the two of them, an almost sibling-like rivalry in the beginning, but they had set aside that foolishness long ago. Glimmer had become Adora’s right hand in the rebellion, and a strong bond had formed between them. It usually took little more than a nod or a look for the two to communicate their wishes these days. Glimmer continued with the briefing.

As Adora sped off toward the woods, she scanned ahead for Kowl, Broom, and Madame Razz. She spotted them slightly off to her right, along with Spirit, and quickly changed course. “Are you three ready?”

Kowl was the first to respond. “We’ll keep an eye on the Horde for you; if anyone asks, you were with us.”

“I will be, in spirit anyway. If they make any headway, warn the camp and contact me immediately. With Swift Wind, I should be able to get back here quickly, even with the storms.” Adora reached back and pulled out her sword; it was identical to Adam’s, save for the gemstone near the hilt. She raised it over her head, and said, “For the honor of Grayskull!” Instantly, she was enveloped in a swirling cascade of ancient power, followed by a bright flash. When the light subsided, Adora was replaced by the Princes of Power, shouting, “I am She-Ra!!” as she aimed the sword at Spirit. He, too, was then enveloped in the eldritch magic, sprouting wings and a horn as he became Swift Wind.

“Be careful, you three, especially you, Madame. Your magic may not be working too well right now.” Her voice was stronger now, even more commanding than Adora’s.

“When has it ever?” Broom said, a smirk on his wooden face. He was surprisingly expressive for a living household tool.

Madame shot him a look, and answered She-Ra. “Don’t you worry about us, deary; you’ve got a whole planet to save here.”

“I’ll meet up with you when we get back,” She-Ra said as she mounted Swift Wind. “Good luck!”

“I think you’ll be needing that more than we will,” Kowl observed. She-Ra raised an eyebrow at him, but didn’t respond. He’s just being Kowl, she thought. And he’s probably right.