One Last War to Fight Chapter Four: Warning Signs
ThunderCats Bio-Booster Armor Guyver One Last War to Fight Episode Four ------------------------------------------------------ Tygra took another sip of Snarf's coffee as he consulted one of his medical texts which he had managed to rescue from Thundera. For the first time in what felt like months - though it had only been barely three days - he began to feel a little at ease. The kittens were bored, restless, and complaining about being cooped up in the infirmary. All very good signs. "What blend does Snarf use?" Pumyra asked from his right. "Snarfer needs to take lessons." "I never asked," Tygra replied while Pumyra sipped the steaming liquid. "I'll make a point of it someday." "Well, it looks like they're in the clear." "Yes, thank goodness." Tygra took a sip himself, though the caffeine was losing the battle to keep him awake. "If they had Thundrainium poisoning, they would have shown signs by now." "I spoke with Panthro a few hours ago. He told me that the machine somehow amplified the small amount of Thundrainium stored inside." "So, it wasn't a large amount?" "No. In fact, he even said that it would never have been enough to induce Thundrainium poisoning. From the way it was built, it had been on the verge of burning out when you and Lion-O had arrived on the scene." "Even so," Tygra added, "it had almost been enough." He didn't think the horror of seeing those bombs on WilyKit and WilyKat's bodies would ever go away. "I do wonder, however, who killed Vultureman." "Whomever it was," Pumyra replied, "we owe him a debt of thanks." "Why didn't he show himself?" "I don't know, and there's really no point in thinking about it. I have a strange feeling that we'll be seeing him again." With that, Pumyra let out a mighty yawn and stretched her lithe frame in her seat. "It's late, Tygra. We really should get some sleep." "I know," he replied as he downed the last of the now-lukewarm coffee. "The guest room's been made up for you." "Thanks. Good night, Tygra." Tygra watched her leave, a small grin on his face. Bengali was a very lucky man... ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Sho lay awake on the thin mat Analee had provided for him, shivering from the lingering traces of the nightmare that had awoken him. The darkened hut was silent, save for the noises of forest life that came from outside and the hammering of his own heart. He briefly wondered how he had kept from screaming as the details of the dream rapidly faded from his memory. It was a city, he thought as the chill sweat dried on his arms. It was burning, they were screaming, and... It was gone. Whatever had happened next, it was gone. Sho sat up, drawing his knees to his chest to rest his chin on them, and hugged himself against the cool air. All he could remember was the terror.... The rage.... The desire... And that, he realized in the darkness of Analee's hut, was what had frightened him the most. Something had been calling to him in that dream, and he had wanted it with all his heart and being. Still did, in fact. He reached back and felt the growths between his shoulderblades again. They were smooth to the touch, warm as he ran his fingers over them. "What the hell is happening to me?" he muttered. "Who am I?" His only answer was the chirping of crickets and the calls of nocturnal birds. Though he did not know it, another had shared his dream... --------------------------------------- He leaned against the boulder which had been placed in the flowing sea of grasslands as a marker between the Berbil village and one of the Wollo settlements. The stars shone overhead like diamonds scattered across a black velvet display, the bright moon its pale centerpiece. He had seen Sho's dream, and himself remembered that day so many centuries ago. It had been the final battle against Kronos, against its master Alkanphel. The battle had shaken the very earth on which New York City had once stood, raising mountains and carving valleys where there had once been pavement and steel. The Korath Mountains had been born on that day, what had once been known as the Catskills warped and twisted into jagged peaks and razor-sharp outcroppings. He had thought those hellish mountains had become their tomb. Apparently, he had been wrong. If Sho had survived, then what of Alkanphel? He hated to think it, but the leader of Kronos reviving here on Third Earth seemed like a real possibility. I don't have the strength to fight him, he thought. I'm not as young as I used to be. Even in my prime, I hadn't the strength to defeat him. He shook his head ruefully from side to side. But, perhaps he hasn't revived? None of the others have. That thought brought only a small measure of comfort. There was still Mumm-Ra to worry about. Who knew what sort of tricks that ancient mummy had in store? "I'm getting too old for this," the man who - in another world - had been known as Agito Makashima said wearily as he lay down once more to sleep. ------------------------------------------------------------- "So, the kittens are well." Mumm-Ra felt a twinge of disappointment at that. He had hoped that - at the very least - the two would have died. It would have been such a nice way to start a new day. Luck, however, appeared not to be with him on that. "No matter," he said as the image vanished. He had much larger matters to deal with this day. The cauldron boiled as Mumm-Ra's magic set to work. His gnarled, decayed hands waved over its brackish surface as the image of a man in a simple cloak of black wool appeared in its depths. There was still far too much he did not know about the Guyver. What could it do? How much power did it truly have? The knowledge of that was lost, even to the realm of myth and lore. The question which bothered Mumm-Ra the most, however, was where the other one could be. This man had not been the one whom had come from the Korath Mountains, he knew that much. Could this man be seeking that other Guyver? Or, could he already know and was merely biding his time? If so, that could mean that he knew he was being watched, and did not want to lead anyone to the second Guyver? There was one way to find out. "Show me, O Ancient Spirits of Evil, the energy of the Korath Mountains." The cauldron showed him the jagged peaks, the swirling multi-colored energies that warred in and around them. They were invisible to the untrained eye - if not they would have lit up the sky for miles - and appeared as a violent aura of wild power. If his hypothesis was correct... The image slowly dissolved into a blanket of whiteness which coalesced into a small dot in the center of the waters. "Show me." Details came into focus around it; leaves, trees, catwalks, and shadowed figures lurking in the branches. "Ah. So that's where he is." Mumm-Ra chuckled to himself. "In the care of the Warrior Maidens." Now he had the location. He just needed to know who it was. The Treetop Kingdom was too close to Cat's Lair for him to go directly. The last thing he needed was to deal with those primitive humans *and* the ThunderCats while searching for a man even his mystic cauldron could not see. There was a better way... ----------------------------------------------- Slythe stalked through the halls of Castle Plundarr, nursing a small hangover and feeling generally irritable. The most recent loss to the ThunderCats had become a sore spot - one of many - on his ego, and the headache and dry mouth did nothing to alleviate his already sour disposition. He was well beyond sick of losing to those damned Thunderians. The small guard force that had been on their ship - those which survived its sinking into Mumm-Ra's desert - was nowhere near enough to pose a threat to them. They needed an army. And weapons. And a decent strategy. And... "A little to much to drink, Reptilian?" came a scratchy voice from behind. Slythe whirled to see Mumm-Ra - his red cloak around his bandaged frame - standing a few feet behind. The demon's lips widened into a grotesque smile at his current state. "What is it now, Mumm-Ra?" "I would curb that tongue if I were you," the mummy said. "After all, I have not forgotten your attempt to gain the Eye of Thundera without me. And besides," he continued, "I know of your la-*test*-('") plot." "What do you mean, Mighty One?" Slythe felt his guts clench. Could that bastard.... "I know of the deep space transmitter you have recently developed." "W-w-w-what..." "Do not try to insult my intelligence," Mumm-Ra said. "I know of what you plan, Slythe, and I approve." "You... do?" "Yes," Mumm-Ra said, "but you will follow my instructions." "Of course, Mighty Mumm-Ra!" Slythe hoped his anger did not show too much. "But, why..." "You will know only what I wish you to know," the mummy replied in a voice that would brook no argument. "There are three Plundarrian ships within range of your transmitter now. Hurry and contact them." Slythe turned and, with Mumm-Ra just behind, walked to the chamber which housed the transmitter. Perhaps he could yet turn this development to his advantage. -------------------------------------------------------- WilyKat ignored the main viewscreen as he sat in the control chamber of Cat's Lair. He rapped his claws atop the surface of the central console in a steady clacking rhythm, not seeing or even caring about the empty plains the Lair's sensors displayed. The young Thunderian Wildcat had bigger things on his mind. He had always held the Mutants in low esteem, as did any Thunderian. They were enemies. They were pillagers, destroyers. They stood against all the Code of Thundera and the ThunderCats held sacred. But now... He still remembered the feel of the bomb on his chest, the terror of seeing another on his sister. He remembered the humiliation of being captured and used against his own friends, his family. But most of all, he remembered the anger at seeing his sister in pain at their hands. And he had been completely helpless... "WilyKat, will you stop that?" He jerked at the sound of his sister's voice, finally seeing her next to him at the main console. "What?" "Stop making all that noise. You're driving me nuts!" "Huh? OH!" WilyKat stopped his fingers before another repeat of his claws on the surface of the control panel. "Sorry, Kit." "It's bad enough that we had to pull watch duty today," she lamented, looking at the sunny countryside through the Lair's scanners. "It's so boring!" "Yeah, sure is." He didn't mind, though. Not today. "What's up with you today?" WilyKit asked, leaning against the console and looking down at him. "Nothin', Kit," he replied. "Just glad to be home, y'know?" "Yeah, I do," she replied softly. "But I want those Mutants to pay for what they did to us." "Me, too." "So, is everything okay in here?" Lion-O asked as the doors to the Control Room slid open and he walked in. "All quiet," WIlyKat replied as he turned to face the lion. "I almost wish those Mutants would try something now." "Yeah," his sister agreed, venomous anger creeping into her voice. "When are we gonna go after them?" If Lion-O was taken aback at the look on the young wildcat's face, he didn't show it. "Just let me worry about the Mutants for now. Panthro will be here to take over in an hour. Don't ask me how," he said with a wink, "but I managed to convince Panthro to let me take the ThunderTank for a spin this afternoon. I just thought I'd ask if you wanted to come along." "Would we ever!" WilyKit exclaimed as she leapt up straight. "Great! See you in an hour!" As the doors slid shut behind, Lion-O sent another silent thanks to Panthro for agreeing to this. Leaving WilyKit and WilyKat cooped up in the Lair wouldn't solve anything. Besides, Panthro concenting - however reluctantly - to let the ThunderTank be taken on a joyride was too rare an occurence to pass up. ---------------------------------------------------------- Lynx-O had never considered his blindness a curse. Like the rest of the Lynx clan of Thundera, he had been taught from birth that nothing in life happened without reason. As for whose reason it was or what that reason might be, such was not always meant for the minds of mortals. It was important to accept, and to adjust. When he had lost his sight, and had discovered the new realms of sensory perception the absence of his eyes granted, he had thought that perhaps he had learned what the reason may be. The flow of the air alone told him volumes about the space around him. His ears detected even the most minute sounds, and his hands - especially when paired with the Braille Board - propelled his perceptions far beyond what he'd had before. It was almost like the Eye of Thundera's sight beyond sight. No, he had once thought with a chuckle, it was sight *without* sight. But, what his hands told him now made absolutely no sense. He knew little of the Korath Mountains, save that energies of all descriptions raged about their peaks and valleys. Yet, that was where his attention had been drawn for the past three days. The only scrap of hard information he had was that something had come from there. He removed his hands from the board and frowned in thought. The strange readings began three days ago, just before WilyKit and WilyKat had been kidnapped. Was that a coincidence? Perhaps, perhaps not. Maybe if he knew more about the Korath Mountains, he could begin to draw some conclusions? Yes, that seemed best. Lynx-O left the Braille Board to call the Cat's Lair. The other ThunderCats had been on Third Earth far longer than he had, so perhaps they knew? If not, they could certainly point him to someone who did. If he had remained at the board for only a few minutes more, the old lynx would have found far more pressing matters to concern himself with... ----------------------------------------------------------------------- "This is the Ravager, go ahead Slythe." The Reptilian nearly leapt for joy at the sound of another Mutant voice from deep space. Granted, it was only a Monkian, but beggars couldn't be choosers. "Ravager, how many ssships are with you, over?" "We are within range of another four. Where are you, over?" "On a jerkwater craphole called Third Earth," Slythe replied. "SSSummon the other ssships, and come to thessse coordinatesss..." "Hang on, Reptilian," the voice snarled. "Why should we obey you? What's in it for us?" "Fool!" Slythe roared. "Do you not remember the Alliance?" "Who cares about that?" the Monkian in charge of the Mutant ship Ravager replied. Slythe could almost hear the sneer in his voice. "We can still seize the Eye of Thundera," Slythe explained as if to a slow child. "The remaining ThunderCatsss are here as well. We can crush them once and for all!" "Go on," the Monkian captain replied at length. "Plus, we are here on a virgin planet." It was time to sweeten the pot a little more. "Ripe for the taking! A world rich in gold, in jewels, in minerals! And, best of all, rich in slaves!" "This is sounding better all the time, hoo-HOO!" "And, to top it all off, thisss planet will make a fine staging area for expanding our reign across the universe, yess!" "You talk a big game, Slythe," the captain said, "but how do I know you are speaking the truth?" "Why not come to Third Earth and sssee for yourself?" "Very well. Transmit your coordinates." Slythe obliged the flea-bitten Monkian captain. "We can be there in twelve hours. To think that you were so close! Ravager out!" Slythe powered down the deep space transmitter and replaced the microphone before turning to face Mumm-Ra. "SSo, are you certain..." "They will come," Mumm-Ra replied. "Have no fear." "But, what about the sensors in Cat's Lair, and the Tower of Omensss? Surely they will notice four Plundarrian shipsss landing on Third Earth, yess?" "My magic will ensure that they will not," the mummy said brusquely. "When the attack comes, the ThunderCats will not be able to withstand it." "We will smasssh Cat's Lair!" Slythe roared, for once that day feeling good. "But, you will follow my plan," Mumm-Ra snarled. "Understood?" "Yesss, Mumm-Ra..." "I am warning you, Slythe," the ancient one said in a voice colder than the ice on Hook Mountain, "if you try to deceive me, I will destroy your new Mutant army, and you with it." "Of coursse, Mumm-Ra." The mummy vanished, back to that abominal pyramid he called home. "You dried-up old prick," Slythe added after he was sure the demon was gone. ---------------------------------------------------------- "Cat's Lair," Panthro said as the image on the main monitor coalescend into Lynx-O's wizened face. "Go ahead." "I hear the kittens are doing well," he said with a smile. "Yeah, Lion-O's taking them for a ride in the ThunderTank right now," he replied - managing not to add that he had better not be fooling around with it. "That is good news." "What's going on?" "Have you ever heard of the Korath Mountains, Panthro?" "Yeah. The energy readings there are off the charts. Our sensors can't penetrate it, and we've never had a reason to go there. Why ask?" "The readings I have received from my Braille Board have been centered on that place for the past few days. I was hoping you'd know something about the hisory of that place." "Nope, can't say as I do. Is something happening there?" "I believe that something has very recently emerged from those mountains." "What can you tell me?" Panthro asked, every nerve suddenly at full alert. "Nothing substantial at present. Who or whatever it is has remained quiet so far." "Yeah. Keep me posted, Lynx-O. Cheetara's out near one of the Wollo villages now, I'll have her stop by and ask about them." "Good idea. I do hope this does not bode ill for us." "Same here, Lynx-O. Cat's Lair out." As the screen went blank, Panthro sent a signal to Cheetara. Whatever could come from a place like the Korath Mountains didn't sound overly friendly. "What's up, Panthro?" the cheetah's voice said from the strategically placed speakers in the Control Room. "How far are you from that Wollo village?" "A few minutes. Why, is something wrong there?" "No, but I'd like you to stop by and ask if they know about the Korath Mountains." "Why that awful place?" "Lynx-O just called," he said, "and told me something might just have come out of there. We need to know all we can about those mountains." "Okay. I'll be there soon. Cheetara out." ------------------------------------------------------- She had been several miles from the Wollos, actually, but when one moved as fast as Cheetara a mile might as well be a foot. She reached the squat adobe structures of the village in under seventy seconds before slowing to walking speed. Very few of the Wollos spoke her language, but they all recognized her and gave warm smiles as greeting. Cheetara returned them as she walked through the narrow streets, searching for... "Hello!" she called to the Wollo who stood beside the fountain in the town square. This particular Wollo had become a kind of emmissary between his people and the ThunderCats. His weathered coar fell to his ankles, a wide-brimmed hat shading kind eyes and a snowy beard on his rodent-like face. He turned and grinned openly at her as she approached. "Cheetara!" he exclaimed as she drew near. "So good to see you!" "Likewise, Salvador. How is your daughter?" "Oh, I am so happy today!" Salvador cried out. "I am to be a grandfather!" "Congratulations!" she said. "You must be thrilled!" "Oh, indeed! Her mother is already planning on a nursery for the child! She can't wait!" "I'm glad for you, Salvador." "What brings you by, though? It's not often a ThunderCat visits our village." "I must admit, I'm not here for a social call. Is there a place where we can talk, Salvador?" "Of course! My home is just this way." The Wollo's home was quite comfortable - cozy, one could call it - though Cheetara had to stoop to walk about. Even the tallest Wollos were barely four feet, and Cheetara was almost six. She followed him into the kitchen, where a squat table and four chairs occupied the center of the floor. A small fireplace rested in the far wall, the space beneath the hanging black iron kettle clean of ashes and restocked with fresh wood. Various spices and herbs hung from thin cords over a prep counter directly in the shaft of sunlight allowed in by the window hewn into the hard clay wall. "Please," Salvador insisted, "have a seat." "Thank you," she answered, pulling out a squat chair and resting in it. Salvador took a seat opposite from her and placed a large water flask and two cups on the smooth tabletop. "So," he said, filling the two cups, "what do you need to discuss? I can hardly imagine what ThunderCat business would involve us Wollos." "Do you know anything about the Korath Mountains?" Salvador's eyes widened, the cup halfway to his lips. "Wh... why would you want to know about those dreadful peaks?" he asked her, all traces of his former elation gone from his voice. "We've... detected some strange readings from there." It was a lie, but Cheetara saw no reason to scare the Wollo unnecessarily. "Do you know anything about that place?" "Only legends and folklore," Salvador replied. "Many of them, however, say that they were once the site of a great city, destroyed in a titanic battle thousands of years ago." "Go on." "Many believe that the souls of those who died in that war still haunt the Korath Mountains to this day, hatred for the living the only thing keeping them in this mortal world." Salvador spoke this in a hushed whisper, as if saying the words too loud would summon those selfsame spirits. "Hmm... that's indeed troubling," she said at length. "What do the legends say about that battle, Salvador?" "The legends say," he explained, "that two of the gods themselves fought there. Others say a strange angel and a demon." "So, who won?" "The legend is this; Ages ago, a dark god overran the world with demons in human form. The only one who could oppose him was a warrior known only as the Guyver. It was said that, when their powers finally clashed, they destroyed the very world Guyver sought to protect and that evil god of darkness sought to rule." "Mumm-Ra..." "No, Cheetara, this much I know is true," Salvador said. "Mumm-Ra slept at the time of this war. In fact, some even theorize that it was what awoke him and brought him to Third Earth." "So, the dark god was defeated, then?" "Perhaps he was killed, perhaps he is merely imprisoned there. No one can ever venture into the Korath Mountains. None who have tried ever returned." Cheetara ignored the growing unease in her heart, instead glancing out at the steadily setting sun. She would have to get back to Cat's Lair soon. "And, there is also the chance that the legends could be completely false," Salvador said, though his frightened voice showed that he didn't believe it one bit. "One last thing, Salvador. What happened to this Guyver?" "No one knows. As I said, there are many legends about that place, Cheetara. All of them have different aspects, yes, but many share a common idea; that a cataclysmic war was fought there." "I see." It seemed that Third Earth fed off of legends and stories. Cheetara rose to leave, acidentally bumping her head on the low ceiling and barely stifling a rather unladylike curse. "I'm sorry to have troubled you, Salvador..." "No trouble, my friend," the old Wollo replied with a faint smile. "There is a village far north of here, past the hills of Elfshima, where people study the ancient lores. Perhaps, if you want to know more, they can assist you." "Thank you, friend," she replied with a smile. Salvador rose from his chair, and led Cheetara to the exit. She rose to her full height immediately after leaving, massaging the twinging pro-*test*-('")s out of her lower back, and congratulated him on becoming a grandfather once again before turning to leave. As she ran back toward Cat's Lair, she thought of what Salvador had told her about the Korath Mountains, and what Panthro had told her about something having come from there recently, and her unease evolved into dread. "Dark gods, and a man called Guyver," she muttered as the trees and shrubs blurred past. "Something is about to happen here. Something very, very bad..." -------------------------------------------------------- Sho leaned against the railing on one of the Treetop Kingdom's many walkways and balconies and watched the sun finish its trek below the trees. The shadows had grown longer and deeper in the hour or two he had spent staring into nothing, yet he did not notice. One thing kept nagging at him, drawing his mind like a moth to the flame. He could feel it, speaking to him in wordless, voiceless whispers, connected to him on the most intimate level. He could sense it always nearby, just behind his shoulder, watching, waiting... for what? For me, he realized. It's waiting for me to do something. I just don't know what it is. The more he thought about it, the more confused he became. Perhaps he was insane? Was it possible to have lost one's mind and not really know it? Was that phantom presence real, or imagined? No. It was real. He knew, he *felt* it was real, just as the voice which had spoken in his mind on awakening was real. He found that, if he focused just right, he could almost feel where the owner of that voice was. "How are you feeling?" "Better, Willa," he said as the Queen of the Warrior Maidens stepped up beside him. "Thank you again." "Sho..." "I know." They both stood there in the growing night, each having almost read the other's mind. Sho had come to realize that his presence among the Warrior Maidens was one that was hoped to be short. Willa had seemed to realize that he knew his answers did not lie with them. "I'll go in the morning." "Don't think that I'm rushing you away simply because you're an outsider, and a man," she said. "Doesn't really matter, does it?" he asked. "I can't stay here, and we both know it, but I'll always be grateful to you for saving my life." "I will have some supplies readied for you by morning," Willa said. "It's the least I can do." "Thank you." Sho looked back at the deepening dark, and knew. His past was out there. He might not find it for a long time, might even loathe it when he did, but find it he would. Anything was better than blank spots in his mind and maddeningly familiar voices and feelings he could not place. I'll find you, he thought, feeling for the second voice. (I'll be waiting) it replied. Agito Makashima smiled as he ate his small dinner. His appetite had been shrinking over the years, all just part of growing older. He had grown older far more slowly than any human had a right to, but grow old he did. He would be waiting for Sho to find him. He would make it easy. Hell, linked as they were he could leave a psychic trail of breadcrumbs all over the planet if he wanted to. And from there, he would actually have a chance. Yes, maybe after all these centuries, everything could work out after all. -------------------------------------------------------------- In the Next Episode: The Mutants arrive while Cheetara tells the ThunderCats what Salvador had told her, and Mumm-Ra's plan comes underway. What cursed the world before is about to come back again in the next episode of One Last War to Fight.
ThunderCats Bio-Booster Armor Guyver One Last War to Fight Episode Four ------------------------------------------------------ Tygra took another sip of Snarf's coffee as he consulted one of his medical texts which he had managed to rescue from Thundera. For the first time in what felt like months - though it had only been barely three days - he began to feel a little at ease. The kittens were bored, restless, and complaining about being cooped up in the infirmary. All very good signs. "What blend does Snarf use?" Pumyra asked from his right. "Snarfer needs to take lessons." "I never asked," Tygra replied while Pumyra sipped the steaming liquid. "I'll make a point of it someday." "Well, it looks like they're in the clear." "Yes, thank goodness." Tygra took a sip himself, though the caffeine was losing the battle to keep him awake. "If they had Thundrainium poisoning, they would have shown signs by now." "I spoke with Panthro a few hours ago. He told me that the machine somehow amplified the small amount of Thundrainium stored inside." "So, it wasn't a large amount?" "No. In fact, he even said that it would never have been enough to induce Thundrainium poisoning. From the way it was built, it had been on the verge of burning out when you and Lion-O had arrived on the scene." "Even so," Tygra added, "it had almost been enough." He didn't think the horror of seeing those bombs on WilyKit and WilyKat's bodies would ever go away. "I do wonder, however, who killed Vultureman." "Whomever it was," Pumyra replied, "we owe him a debt of thanks." "Why didn't he show himself?" "I don't know, and there's really no point in thinking about it. I have a strange feeling that we'll be seeing him again." With that, Pumyra let out a mighty yawn and stretched her lithe frame in her seat. "It's late, Tygra. We really should get some sleep." "I know," he replied as he downed the last of the now-lukewarm coffee. "The guest room's been made up for you." "Thanks. Good night, Tygra." Tygra watched her leave, a small grin on his face. Bengali was a very lucky man... ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Sho lay awake on the thin mat Analee had provided for him, shivering from the lingering traces of the nightmare that had awoken him. The darkened hut was silent, save for the noises of forest life that came from outside and the hammering of his own heart. He briefly wondered how he had kept from screaming as the details of the dream rapidly faded from his memory. It was a city, he thought as the chill sweat dried on his arms. It was burning, they were screaming, and... It was gone. Whatever had happened next, it was gone. Sho sat up, drawing his knees to his chest to rest his chin on them, and hugged himself against the cool air. All he could remember was the terror.... The rage.... The desire... And that, he realized in the darkness of Analee's hut, was what had frightened him the most. Something had been calling to him in that dream, and he had wanted it with all his heart and being. Still did, in fact. He reached back and felt the growths between his shoulderblades again. They were smooth to the touch, warm as he ran his fingers over them. "What the hell is happening to me?" he muttered. "Who am I?" His only answer was the chirping of crickets and the calls of nocturnal birds. Though he did not know it, another had shared his dream... --------------------------------------- He leaned against the boulder which had been placed in the flowing sea of grasslands as a marker between the Berbil village and one of the Wollo settlements. The stars shone overhead like diamonds scattered across a black velvet display, the bright moon its pale centerpiece. He had seen Sho's dream, and himself remembered that day so many centuries ago. It had been the final battle against Kronos, against its master Alkanphel. The battle had shaken the very earth on which New York City had once stood, raising mountains and carving valleys where there had once been pavement and steel. The Korath Mountains had been born on that day, what had once been known as the Catskills warped and twisted into jagged peaks and razor-sharp outcroppings. He had thought those hellish mountains had become their tomb. Apparently, he had been wrong. If Sho had survived, then what of Alkanphel? He hated to think it, but the leader of Kronos reviving here on Third Earth seemed like a real possibility. I don't have the strength to fight him, he thought. I'm not as young as I used to be. Even in my prime, I hadn't the strength to defeat him. He shook his head ruefully from side to side. But, perhaps he hasn't revived? None of the others have. That thought brought only a small measure of comfort. There was still Mumm-Ra to worry about. Who knew what sort of tricks that ancient mummy had in store? "I'm getting too old for this," the man who - in another world - had been known as Agito Makashima said wearily as he lay down once more to sleep. ------------------------------------------------------------- "So, the kittens are well." Mumm-Ra felt a twinge of disappointment at that. He had hoped that - at the very least - the two would have died. It would have been such a nice way to start a new day. Luck, however, appeared not to be with him on that. "No matter," he said as the image vanished. He had much larger matters to deal with this day. The cauldron boiled as Mumm-Ra's magic set to work. His gnarled, decayed hands waved over its brackish surface as the image of a man in a simple cloak of black wool appeared in its depths. There was still far too much he did not know about the Guyver. What could it do? How much power did it truly have? The knowledge of that was lost, even to the realm of myth and lore. The question which bothered Mumm-Ra the most, however, was where the other one could be. This man had not been the one whom had come from the Korath Mountains, he knew that much. Could this man be seeking that other Guyver? Or, could he already know and was merely biding his time? If so, that could mean that he knew he was being watched, and did not want to lead anyone to the second Guyver? There was one way to find out. "Show me, O Ancient Spirits of Evil, the energy of the Korath Mountains." The cauldron showed him the jagged peaks, the swirling multi-colored energies that warred in and around them. They were invisible to the untrained eye - if not they would have lit up the sky for miles - and appeared as a violent aura of wild power. If his hypothesis was correct... The image slowly dissolved into a blanket of whiteness which coalesced into a small dot in the center of the waters. "Show me." Details came into focus around it; leaves, trees, catwalks, and shadowed figures lurking in the branches. "Ah. So that's where he is." Mumm-Ra chuckled to himself. "In the care of the Warrior Maidens." Now he had the location. He just needed to know who it was. The Treetop Kingdom was too close to Cat's Lair for him to go directly. The last thing he needed was to deal with those primitive humans *and* the ThunderCats while searching for a man even his mystic cauldron could not see. There was a better way... ----------------------------------------------- Slythe stalked through the halls of Castle Plundarr, nursing a small hangover and feeling generally irritable. The most recent loss to the ThunderCats had become a sore spot - one of many - on his ego, and the headache and dry mouth did nothing to alleviate his already sour disposition. He was well beyond sick of losing to those damned Thunderians. The small guard force that had been on their ship - those which survived its sinking into Mumm-Ra's desert - was nowhere near enough to pose a threat to them. They needed an army. And weapons. And a decent strategy. And... "A little to much to drink, Reptilian?" came a scratchy voice from behind. Slythe whirled to see Mumm-Ra - his red cloak around his bandaged frame - standing a few feet behind. The demon's lips widened into a grotesque smile at his current state. "What is it now, Mumm-Ra?" "I would curb that tongue if I were you," the mummy said. "After all, I have not forgotten your attempt to gain the Eye of Thundera without me. And besides," he continued, "I know of your la-*test*-('") plot." "What do you mean, Mighty One?" Slythe felt his guts clench. Could that bastard.... "I know of the deep space transmitter you have recently developed." "W-w-w-what..." "Do not try to insult my intelligence," Mumm-Ra said. "I know of what you plan, Slythe, and I approve." "You... do?" "Yes," Mumm-Ra said, "but you will follow my instructions." "Of course, Mighty Mumm-Ra!" Slythe hoped his anger did not show too much. "But, why..." "You will know only what I wish you to know," the mummy replied in a voice that would brook no argument. "There are three Plundarrian ships within range of your transmitter now. Hurry and contact them." Slythe turned and, with Mumm-Ra just behind, walked to the chamber which housed the transmitter. Perhaps he could yet turn this development to his advantage. -------------------------------------------------------- WilyKat ignored the main viewscreen as he sat in the control chamber of Cat's Lair. He rapped his claws atop the surface of the central console in a steady clacking rhythm, not seeing or even caring about the empty plains the Lair's sensors displayed. The young Thunderian Wildcat had bigger things on his mind. He had always held the Mutants in low esteem, as did any Thunderian. They were enemies. They were pillagers, destroyers. They stood against all the Code of Thundera and the ThunderCats held sacred. But now... He still remembered the feel of the bomb on his chest, the terror of seeing another on his sister. He remembered the humiliation of being captured and used against his own friends, his family. But most of all, he remembered the anger at seeing his sister in pain at their hands. And he had been completely helpless... "WilyKat, will you stop that?" He jerked at the sound of his sister's voice, finally seeing her next to him at the main console. "What?" "Stop making all that noise. You're driving me nuts!" "Huh? OH!" WilyKat stopped his fingers before another repeat of his claws on the surface of the control panel. "Sorry, Kit." "It's bad enough that we had to pull watch duty today," she lamented, looking at the sunny countryside through the Lair's scanners. "It's so boring!" "Yeah, sure is." He didn't mind, though. Not today. "What's up with you today?" WilyKit asked, leaning against the console and looking down at him. "Nothin', Kit," he replied. "Just glad to be home, y'know?" "Yeah, I do," she replied softly. "But I want those Mutants to pay for what they did to us." "Me, too." "So, is everything okay in here?" Lion-O asked as the doors to the Control Room slid open and he walked in. "All quiet," WIlyKat replied as he turned to face the lion. "I almost wish those Mutants would try something now." "Yeah," his sister agreed, venomous anger creeping into her voice. "When are we gonna go after them?" If Lion-O was taken aback at the look on the young wildcat's face, he didn't show it. "Just let me worry about the Mutants for now. Panthro will be here to take over in an hour. Don't ask me how," he said with a wink, "but I managed to convince Panthro to let me take the ThunderTank for a spin this afternoon. I just thought I'd ask if you wanted to come along." "Would we ever!" WilyKit exclaimed as she leapt up straight. "Great! See you in an hour!" As the doors slid shut behind, Lion-O sent another silent thanks to Panthro for agreeing to this. Leaving WilyKit and WilyKat cooped up in the Lair wouldn't solve anything. Besides, Panthro concenting - however reluctantly - to let the ThunderTank be taken on a joyride was too rare an occurence to pass up. ---------------------------------------------------------- Lynx-O had never considered his blindness a curse. Like the rest of the Lynx clan of Thundera, he had been taught from birth that nothing in life happened without reason. As for whose reason it was or what that reason might be, such was not always meant for the minds of mortals. It was important to accept, and to adjust. When he had lost his sight, and had discovered the new realms of sensory perception the absence of his eyes granted, he had thought that perhaps he had learned what the reason may be. The flow of the air alone told him volumes about the space around him. His ears detected even the most minute sounds, and his hands - especially when paired with the Braille Board - propelled his perceptions far beyond what he'd had before. It was almost like the Eye of Thundera's sight beyond sight. No, he had once thought with a chuckle, it was sight *without* sight. But, what his hands told him now made absolutely no sense. He knew little of the Korath Mountains, save that energies of all descriptions raged about their peaks and valleys. Yet, that was where his attention had been drawn for the past three days. The only scrap of hard information he had was that something had come from there. He removed his hands from the board and frowned in thought. The strange readings began three days ago, just before WilyKit and WilyKat had been kidnapped. Was that a coincidence? Perhaps, perhaps not. Maybe if he knew more about the Korath Mountains, he could begin to draw some conclusions? Yes, that seemed best. Lynx-O left the Braille Board to call the Cat's Lair. The other ThunderCats had been on Third Earth far longer than he had, so perhaps they knew? If not, they could certainly point him to someone who did. If he had remained at the board for only a few minutes more, the old lynx would have found far more pressing matters to concern himself with... ----------------------------------------------------------------------- "This is the Ravager, go ahead Slythe." The Reptilian nearly leapt for joy at the sound of another Mutant voice from deep space. Granted, it was only a Monkian, but beggars couldn't be choosers. "Ravager, how many ssships are with you, over?" "We are within range of another four. Where are you, over?" "On a jerkwater craphole called Third Earth," Slythe replied. "SSSummon the other ssships, and come to thessse coordinatesss..." "Hang on, Reptilian," the voice snarled. "Why should we obey you? What's in it for us?" "Fool!" Slythe roared. "Do you not remember the Alliance?" "Who cares about that?" the Monkian in charge of the Mutant ship Ravager replied. Slythe could almost hear the sneer in his voice. "We can still seize the Eye of Thundera," Slythe explained as if to a slow child. "The remaining ThunderCatsss are here as well. We can crush them once and for all!" "Go on," the Monkian captain replied at length. "Plus, we are here on a virgin planet." It was time to sweeten the pot a little more. "Ripe for the taking! A world rich in gold, in jewels, in minerals! And, best of all, rich in slaves!" "This is sounding better all the time, hoo-HOO!" "And, to top it all off, thisss planet will make a fine staging area for expanding our reign across the universe, yess!" "You talk a big game, Slythe," the captain said, "but how do I know you are speaking the truth?" "Why not come to Third Earth and sssee for yourself?" "Very well. Transmit your coordinates." Slythe obliged the flea-bitten Monkian captain. "We can be there in twelve hours. To think that you were so close! Ravager out!" Slythe powered down the deep space transmitter and replaced the microphone before turning to face Mumm-Ra. "SSo, are you certain..." "They will come," Mumm-Ra replied. "Have no fear." "But, what about the sensors in Cat's Lair, and the Tower of Omensss? Surely they will notice four Plundarrian shipsss landing on Third Earth, yess?" "My magic will ensure that they will not," the mummy said brusquely. "When the attack comes, the ThunderCats will not be able to withstand it." "We will smasssh Cat's Lair!" Slythe roared, for once that day feeling good. "But, you will follow my plan," Mumm-Ra snarled. "Understood?" "Yesss, Mumm-Ra..." "I am warning you, Slythe," the ancient one said in a voice colder than the ice on Hook Mountain, "if you try to deceive me, I will destroy your new Mutant army, and you with it." "Of coursse, Mumm-Ra." The mummy vanished, back to that abominal pyramid he called home. "You dried-up old prick," Slythe added after he was sure the demon was gone. ---------------------------------------------------------- "Cat's Lair," Panthro said as the image on the main monitor coalescend into Lynx-O's wizened face. "Go ahead." "I hear the kittens are doing well," he said with a smile. "Yeah, Lion-O's taking them for a ride in the ThunderTank right now," he replied - managing not to add that he had better not be fooling around with it. "That is good news." "What's going on?" "Have you ever heard of the Korath Mountains, Panthro?" "Yeah. The energy readings there are off the charts. Our sensors can't penetrate it, and we've never had a reason to go there. Why ask?" "The readings I have received from my Braille Board have been centered on that place for the past few days. I was hoping you'd know something about the hisory of that place." "Nope, can't say as I do. Is something happening there?" "I believe that something has very recently emerged from those mountains." "What can you tell me?" Panthro asked, every nerve suddenly at full alert. "Nothing substantial at present. Who or whatever it is has remained quiet so far." "Yeah. Keep me posted, Lynx-O. Cheetara's out near one of the Wollo villages now, I'll have her stop by and ask about them." "Good idea. I do hope this does not bode ill for us." "Same here, Lynx-O. Cat's Lair out." As the screen went blank, Panthro sent a signal to Cheetara. Whatever could come from a place like the Korath Mountains didn't sound overly friendly. "What's up, Panthro?" the cheetah's voice said from the strategically placed speakers in the Control Room. "How far are you from that Wollo village?" "A few minutes. Why, is something wrong there?" "No, but I'd like you to stop by and ask if they know about the Korath Mountains." "Why that awful place?" "Lynx-O just called," he said, "and told me something might just have come out of there. We need to know all we can about those mountains." "Okay. I'll be there soon. Cheetara out." ------------------------------------------------------- She had been several miles from the Wollos, actually, but when one moved as fast as Cheetara a mile might as well be a foot. She reached the squat adobe structures of the village in under seventy seconds before slowing to walking speed. Very few of the Wollos spoke her language, but they all recognized her and gave warm smiles as greeting. Cheetara returned them as she walked through the narrow streets, searching for... "Hello!" she called to the Wollo who stood beside the fountain in the town square. This particular Wollo had become a kind of emmissary between his people and the ThunderCats. His weathered coar fell to his ankles, a wide-brimmed hat shading kind eyes and a snowy beard on his rodent-like face. He turned and grinned openly at her as she approached. "Cheetara!" he exclaimed as she drew near. "So good to see you!" "Likewise, Salvador. How is your daughter?" "Oh, I am so happy today!" Salvador cried out. "I am to be a grandfather!" "Congratulations!" she said. "You must be thrilled!" "Oh, indeed! Her mother is already planning on a nursery for the child! She can't wait!" "I'm glad for you, Salvador." "What brings you by, though? It's not often a ThunderCat visits our village." "I must admit, I'm not here for a social call. Is there a place where we can talk, Salvador?" "Of course! My home is just this way." The Wollo's home was quite comfortable - cozy, one could call it - though Cheetara had to stoop to walk about. Even the tallest Wollos were barely four feet, and Cheetara was almost six. She followed him into the kitchen, where a squat table and four chairs occupied the center of the floor. A small fireplace rested in the far wall, the space beneath the hanging black iron kettle clean of ashes and restocked with fresh wood. Various spices and herbs hung from thin cords over a prep counter directly in the shaft of sunlight allowed in by the window hewn into the hard clay wall. "Please," Salvador insisted, "have a seat." "Thank you," she answered, pulling out a squat chair and resting in it. Salvador took a seat opposite from her and placed a large water flask and two cups on the smooth tabletop. "So," he said, filling the two cups, "what do you need to discuss? I can hardly imagine what ThunderCat business would involve us Wollos." "Do you know anything about the Korath Mountains?" Salvador's eyes widened, the cup halfway to his lips. "Wh... why would you want to know about those dreadful peaks?" he asked her, all traces of his former elation gone from his voice. "We've... detected some strange readings from there." It was a lie, but Cheetara saw no reason to scare the Wollo unnecessarily. "Do you know anything about that place?" "Only legends and folklore," Salvador replied. "Many of them, however, say that they were once the site of a great city, destroyed in a titanic battle thousands of years ago." "Go on." "Many believe that the souls of those who died in that war still haunt the Korath Mountains to this day, hatred for the living the only thing keeping them in this mortal world." Salvador spoke this in a hushed whisper, as if saying the words too loud would summon those selfsame spirits. "Hmm... that's indeed troubling," she said at length. "What do the legends say about that battle, Salvador?" "The legends say," he explained, "that two of the gods themselves fought there. Others say a strange angel and a demon." "So, who won?" "The legend is this; Ages ago, a dark god overran the world with demons in human form. The only one who could oppose him was a warrior known only as the Guyver. It was said that, when their powers finally clashed, they destroyed the very world Guyver sought to protect and that evil god of darkness sought to rule." "Mumm-Ra..." "No, Cheetara, this much I know is true," Salvador said. "Mumm-Ra slept at the time of this war. In fact, some even theorize that it was what awoke him and brought him to Third Earth." "So, the dark god was defeated, then?" "Perhaps he was killed, perhaps he is merely imprisoned there. No one can ever venture into the Korath Mountains. None who have tried ever returned." Cheetara ignored the growing unease in her heart, instead glancing out at the steadily setting sun. She would have to get back to Cat's Lair soon. "And, there is also the chance that the legends could be completely false," Salvador said, though his frightened voice showed that he didn't believe it one bit. "One last thing, Salvador. What happened to this Guyver?" "No one knows. As I said, there are many legends about that place, Cheetara. All of them have different aspects, yes, but many share a common idea; that a cataclysmic war was fought there." "I see." It seemed that Third Earth fed off of legends and stories. Cheetara rose to leave, acidentally bumping her head on the low ceiling and barely stifling a rather unladylike curse. "I'm sorry to have troubled you, Salvador..." "No trouble, my friend," the old Wollo replied with a faint smile. "There is a village far north of here, past the hills of Elfshima, where people study the ancient lores. Perhaps, if you want to know more, they can assist you." "Thank you, friend," she replied with a smile. Salvador rose from his chair, and led Cheetara to the exit. She rose to her full height immediately after leaving, massaging the twinging pro-*test*-('")s out of her lower back, and congratulated him on becoming a grandfather once again before turning to leave. As she ran back toward Cat's Lair, she thought of what Salvador had told her about the Korath Mountains, and what Panthro had told her about something having come from there recently, and her unease evolved into dread. "Dark gods, and a man called Guyver," she muttered as the trees and shrubs blurred past. "Something is about to happen here. Something very, very bad..." -------------------------------------------------------- Sho leaned against the railing on one of the Treetop Kingdom's many walkways and balconies and watched the sun finish its trek below the trees. The shadows had grown longer and deeper in the hour or two he had spent staring into nothing, yet he did not notice. One thing kept nagging at him, drawing his mind like a moth to the flame. He could feel it, speaking to him in wordless, voiceless whispers, connected to him on the most intimate level. He could sense it always nearby, just behind his shoulder, watching, waiting... for what? For me, he realized. It's waiting for me to do something. I just don't know what it is. The more he thought about it, the more confused he became. Perhaps he was insane? Was it possible to have lost one's mind and not really know it? Was that phantom presence real, or imagined? No. It was real. He knew, he *felt* it was real, just as the voice which had spoken in his mind on awakening was real. He found that, if he focused just right, he could almost feel where the owner of that voice was. "How are you feeling?" "Better, Willa," he said as the Queen of the Warrior Maidens stepped up beside him. "Thank you again." "Sho..." "I know." They both stood there in the growing night, each having almost read the other's mind. Sho had come to realize that his presence among the Warrior Maidens was one that was hoped to be short. Willa had seemed to realize that he knew his answers did not lie with them. "I'll go in the morning." "Don't think that I'm rushing you away simply because you're an outsider, and a man," she said. "Doesn't really matter, does it?" he asked. "I can't stay here, and we both know it, but I'll always be grateful to you for saving my life." "I will have some supplies readied for you by morning," Willa said. "It's the least I can do." "Thank you." Sho looked back at the deepening dark, and knew. His past was out there. He might not find it for a long time, might even loathe it when he did, but find it he would. Anything was better than blank spots in his mind and maddeningly familiar voices and feelings he could not place. I'll find you, he thought, feeling for the second voice. (I'll be waiting) it replied. Agito Makashima smiled as he ate his small dinner. His appetite had been shrinking over the years, all just part of growing older. He had grown older far more slowly than any human had a right to, but grow old he did. He would be waiting for Sho to find him. He would make it easy. Hell, linked as they were he could leave a psychic trail of breadcrumbs all over the planet if he wanted to. And from there, he would actually have a chance. Yes, maybe after all these centuries, everything could work out after all. -------------------------------------------------------------- In the Next Episode: The Mutants arrive while Cheetara tells the ThunderCats what Salvador had told her, and Mumm-Ra's plan comes underway. What cursed the world before is about to come back again in the next episode of One Last War to Fight.