One Last War to Fight Chapter Nine: Aftermath
ThunderCats Bio-Booster Armor Guyver One Last War to Fight Episode Nine ============================== "OW!" The padded straps supported her nude body above the floor, suspended between two stainless steel racks which rested on either side. Her entire view was of the plain white tiles, her eyes unwilling to look up for the moment. "Sorry, Cheetara," Pumyra's voice apologized. "I guess the painkillers weren't as strong as I'd hoped." "It's... nothing," the cheetah managed. "They help enough." "Once I finish spreading the balm," the puma replied, "the pain from your injuries will fade. It's going to take some time before I can let you back on your feet, I'm afraid." "That's fine," Cheetara said, wincing at the touch of Pumyra's hands on her tender back. "At least we're all safe. And alive." "Truer words were never spoken. There, that takes care of the balm. Now for the bandages." "How are the kids? And Snarf?" "They're fine," Pumyra answered. "No whips touched any of them, thank goodness." Cheetara let free a sigh of relief. She was still unclear on just how they had been rescued, the only clues jagged and disjointed images of Tygra and someone else... "I'm afraid there's going to be some scarring," Pumyra said as the soft gauze began to wrap about her. Cheetara almost asked what had happened, but was growing far too tired to care. ================================ WilyKit stood at the side of Bengali's bed, on which the boy who was the Guyver slept. His skin was ghostly pale, his breathing shallow and quick. He seemed so fragile, so weak beneath the blue coverlets, as if he could slip away from this world at any second. She thought back to just the night before when, as the Guyver, he had smashed into the dungeon of Castle Plun-Darr and then in the same hour eradicated a whole platoon of Nosedivers in one blast. The dichotomy of the two images was nearly impossible to reconcile. How could something so powerful belong to someone who appeared so weak? She had yet to hear about how Lion-O and the others had met him, but that would be told at council later tonight. For now... "He doesn't look much older than me and WilyKat," she muttered. She didn't know how humans aged, but she could swear he wasn't a day over sixteen. And yet, the legends of the Guyver were thousands of years old... He had helped save them, of that there was no doubt. Whatever his name was, Guyver or Sho, he was a friend. As such, she had stayed by his side. There was no way she'd leave him alone when he seemed so fragile. Whatever his story was, she would know in a few hours. "So here you are." WilyKit spun to see Tygra standing in the doorway. His smile was warm, relieved. "I... didn't want to leave him... he..." "I know," the tiger said. "His vital signs are weak, but stable. There's nothing any of us can do for him right now." "It's just that... that the past few days have been so unreal. Like all of a sudden all the rules decided to change." "It does," Tygra replied softly. "But it's not the end of the ThunderCats. We're all here, and we're all still together." "You're right. But I can't help feeling that none of this is over. That this is somehow only the start of something big." ================================ WilyKat sat alone atop the Tower of Omens, his back to the massive disc of the Cat's Eye, drinking in the bracing chill of the arid desert as the sun gave the celestial stage to the moon. He stared up at the stars - finding the one about which Thundera had once orbited - seeking solace, some heavenly sign of forgiveness. Why couldn't he be stronger? Why couldn't he have stopped those Mutants from whipping Cheetara like a lowly dog? He shut his eyes, still hearing every crack of the vile whips as they... No. He shut those thoughts out, though with great difficulty. Even if Pumyra hadn't ordered everyone to stay clear of Cheetara until at least tomorrow, the young wildcat didn't think he'd have been able to muster the nerve to see her. He was a man - almost, anyway - and he hadn't been able to do a single thing to protect her or any of the others. What if the Mutants had gotten the chance to... DEFINITELY don't think about that! he commanded himself. "I thought I'd find you up here." WilyKat, startled, spun to see Panthro shilouetted in the pale light of the moon. "Room for one more?" "Sure." WilyKat slid over as Panthro eased his frame onto the stone next to him. They sat in silence for a moment or two, simply looking out over the vista of Third Earth. "Heck of a view, isn't it?" "Yeah." "You know," Panthro began, "I used to do this a lot back on Thundera. I'd sit on top of the Lair and just stare at the stars. It used to calm me down." "Uh-huh." "C'mon, son, what is it? Keeping it bottled up isn't going to do you any good." WilyKat wanted to say it, yet at the same time... "Is it about what happened to Cheetara?" "Y... Yes..." "Listen to me," Panthro began, his usually gruff voice soft and gentile, "there wasn't anything..." "That I could do?" The anger crept into his voice, hungry to lash out at anything, even if it was at himself. "I should have, Panthro! I should have been able to fight! I..." "No," the panther replied. "There wasn't anything you could have done." "If I was an adult," the words were coming out like a torrent, nearly falling over eachother in a mad rush past his lips, "If I was stronger, I could have stopped them! I could have..." "Kat..." "Look at you!" he shouted. "You've got to be the strongest of all of us! You could have mopped the floor with Slythe! You're never scared or..." "You're wrong, Kat." Those three words lanced the haze of anger that had coated the young boy's mind. "I was scared out of my mind." "What?" "Those hours, when we learned that the Mutants had captured all of you, right up until the second I saw all of you running toward the ThunderTank, those were the most frightening hours of my life." "They... were?" "We were all scared, Kat. Scared that we'd be too late. Scared that when we got there, they would have killed you, your sister, Cheetara, Snarf... We were far more terrified than angry." "But, it didn't stop you." "No, but I'd never felt fear like that before. And I'd never felt more relieved than when you all came out of there." WilyKat fell quiet, the rage giving way to confusion. If someone as mighty as Panthro, or as brave as Lion-O, could be afraid... then maybe... "We need you, Kat. We all need to pull together, now more than ever. We're a family, son, and if you don't have a family, then you don't have anything in this world." WilyKat looked back at the stars. What Panthro said made sense, but it still didn't completely quell the anger and shame. "Will... um... Will Cheetara..." "She'd love to see you, Kat." "Thanks, Panthro." ---------------------------------------------------------------- "Incredible..." Alluro's whispered statement summed up what all the Lunattacks thought as the image replayed for the hundredth time. The light burst forth from the armored man's chest, enveloping the Nosedivers and hammering the outer facade of Castle Plun-Darr into atoms. The image froze on the final frame, showing the plume of dust that heralded the destruction of the Mutant stronghold on Third Earth. "Looks like this one will be a big problem," Chilla said with a touch of anxiety in her voice. "And he's an ally of the ThunderCats to boot," TugMug added. "This is gonna get ugly." "Something must be done about this 'Guyver'," Luna added from atop Amok. "It seems that his power is rather limited, wouldn't you all say?" "Limited, yes," Alluro agreed. "Weak, no. The Mutants are hardly worthy adversaries for us, but he did take out quite a lot of them in one shot. No telling how many more it may have killed inside that fortress. Most battleships don't have a weapon like what we saw him use." "So, we have to be a tad careful in how we handle him. So what?" Luna screeched. "We can take him!" "Given what we just saw," Chilla said, "I think we should be more than a tad careful. Who knows what else that thing can do?" "HAH! My Psych Club can solve this problem in no time at all." "Yes..." Luna said at length. "Perhaps if he served *us* rather than those flea-bitten cats..." "One dose of my psychiatry," Alluro said, smacking the tip of his club into his left palm, "could solve our problems quite nicely. Someone with his physical prowess has to be very weak minded, indeed." "It's settled, then," Luna said. "First chance, we make Guyver our slave. Let's see the ThunderCats fight *that* thing off!" -------------------------------------------------------------------------- "I don't know." "Not the best answer," Lion-O said as Bengali took his seat again. "I'm sorry, but we have no idea how much of the Mutant Army is left on Third Earth." "Four ships landed," Lynx-O said. "And there were enough to destroy Cat's Lair. Though we rescued our comrades, we cannot assume that the Mutants have suffered losses sufficient enough to make them no longer a threat." "I see. Pumyra, how are our supplies?" "From what information I have," the puma replied, "our pipelines of Thundrillium are undamaged. As for our food, we have enough for six months, and that's at half-meals." "Without the Berbils," Tygra added, "our food supplies will become scarce fairly soon. The Warrior Maidens provided most of the herbs we used as remedies..." "You don't have to finish that." Low on both medicine and food. The situation was very grim, indeed. "How about our equipment?" Lion-O asked. "Well, the ThunderTank's out of action until I can get her fixed," Panthro answered. "The ThunderStrike took some serious hits, too." "The ThunderClaw?" "I can get her airborne again in a few days, tops. The HoverCat needs a total overhaul." "What about the Feliner?" WilyKat asked. "Far as I know, she isn't damaged. Just gotta fish her out of what's left of Cat's Lair. Thing is, most of my tools and parts, except what I've got here, are buried in Cat's Lair. Can't do much in the way of repairs without them." "How about our enemies?" "As we all know," Tygra said, "Mumm-Ra was badly injured in the main attack. I don't know how long it will be before he becomes a major factor again, but we can bet it will be soon." "The Mutants," Lynx-O added," Still have four warships at their disposal, as well as numerous Skycutters. I do not know how many Nosedivers are left to them, but I do know that at least one Warbot is in their possession as well." "The Lunataks?" "Far as we know," Panthro said, "those moon freaks have been real quiet. They've gotta know what's up, though, and they'll likely take this chance to get rid of us for good." Lion-O remained silent as the information was processed. One stronghold gone, food and medicine at critical levels, and surrounded by powerful enemies. Hardly the best tactical situation, even with the Eye of Thundera at his side. "I think that the first thing we should do is check on the Berbils and Warrior Maidens," Lion-O said. "They've suffered as much, if not more, than we have." "I understand that," Tygra replied, "but our more immediate concern is our own vulnerability. I recommend we get in contact with the Tuskas at once. We'll need their firepower as an added line of defense while we rebuild our own forces." "Tygra's right," Lion-O said. "First we need to contact the Tuskas. With their help, we may be able to better protect this part of Third Earth." "What about the Wollos?" WilyKit asked. "And the Bolkins?" "Yeah, we can't just forget about them," her brother added. "With any luck, the Tuskas can help with safeguarding the nearby settlements," Lion-O said, facing the two kids. "Snow Knight may also be able to lend some aid. From there, I suggest we focus on retrieving the tools necessary for repairing our damaged vehicles. Once we're back up to full strength, we can begin going after the Mutants and the Lunataks." "It's not gonna be easy, Lion-O." "I know that, Panthro. These are dark times, ThunderCats. Very dark times. But, we can't surrender. We need each other, and we need to have faith. WilyKit," "Yeah?" the girl piped up. "Tomorrow, I want you and Bengali to check on the Berbils and Warrior Maidens. WilyKat will help Pumyra tend to Cheetara's wounds. Panthro, make what repairs to our vehicles that you can. Tygra, you and Lynx-O will try to develop a plan for clearing away the rubble of Cat's Lair." "I take it," the Lynx said, "you will be going to the Tuska camps tomorrow?" "Yes, at first light. The sooner we get some help, the better." Council adjourned for the night, no mention of the Guyver having been uttered. There were more pressing matters. --------------------------------------------------------------------- Day broke over the luxurious foliage that encompassed the White Pyramid. The mirror of Mumm-Ra's tomb, set in a paradise of life by the enemies of Mumm-Ra's masters, stood pristine in defiance to the Black Pyramid's horrid darkness. A slight breeze caressed the thick carpet of grass and set the boughs of the ancient-growth forests to whispering. From the four Spires which surrounded the pyramid crackled brilliant shafts of life-giving energies. Deep within, the life they helped sustain rose from her timeless slumber. Mumm-Rana, vanguard of all that was pure and sacred on Third Earth, rose from her ornate golden sarcohpagus. The Ancient Spirits of Life rarely had cause to awaken her, the fact that she was now indeed among the living world once more a cause of great concern. In the space of the past two years, her ancient nemesis had been more active than he had been in millinea, yet she had still slept. Against the Eye of Thundera and the ThunderCats who stood behind it, his foul magic had been thwarted time and again. She, herself, had only crossed paths with the noble beings from Thundera once. The fact that they had held off an evil far older than Third Earth for so long was impressive in and of itself. As such, she had slept peacefully. "Why have I been awakened?" she asked the four immense statues whose power animated her undead frame and granted her the powers of holy magic. They remained silent, for such was their way. Mumm-Rana hadn't expected an answer, yet she had to ask anyway. The ageless priestess trod across the stone floor of her tomb to the scrying pool. What images from its depths would... "By the Great Creator..." she gasped. From within the calm depths of mystic liquid was an image of Cat's Lair laid to waste. The ThunderCats had been destroyed? How... Another image came, this showing the burning ruins of the village of the Berbils. The gentle cybernetic aliens had never harmed a living being on this world, yet their home was in flames... The image blurred, shifting to the Treetop Kingdom which burned like a vision of Hell itself. The Warrior Maidens were also gone? Trees that, when Mumm-Rana had been known as Cleos after the former empress Cleopatra, had been little more than young saplings were engulfed in flame. "Ancinet Ones!" she pleaded to the stone liknesses of the benign spirits of wisom and good which she devoutly served, "tell me! Is this true?!" They remained silent, and she peered closer into the water. Within its depths was a hideous fortress of evil. Stronghold to aliens of a less benevolent nature, it rested atop dead ground surrounded by a vile moat of tainted water. It was the castle of the Mutants of Plun-Darr, she recalled. Had they been the architechts of this devastation? Mumm-Rana saw the ThunderCats escaping, hounded by a swarm of war machines. From the badly damaged vehicle leapt a lone man in alien armor. The breastplates were pried apart, and a savage light enveloped those who would have murdered the ThunderCats. "He is... familiar..." Mumm-Rana said softly. The scene changed again to the burning home of the Berbils, where that same man fought against her hated enemy, Mumm-Ra. The priestess watched with rapt attention as, with the help of two ThunderCats, he dealt a mortal wound to the ancient demon. "This man is powerful. Who is he? What has happened?" These images were so disjointed, so jagged. Whatever had happened, the unknown man in armor was at the center. "The peoples we have shown you," the voices of the Ancient Ones spoke, "still live, but are weakened. They face a tide of great evil, far worse than any we timeless ones have yet seen." "The man in armor, he seems familiar to me. I know I have seen him before." "You have, O good and faithful servant." "Who is he? My memory cannot clearly recall him." "Look into the pool again," they said, "and see the world as it was two thousand years ago. See Second Earth, a place long since dead..." Towers of stone and steel and glass reached to up to Heaven, great cities of humanity that sprawled across the surface of the world. This was the Age of Man, then? The world where humanity had reached its pinnacle? The image changed, and all that had been was laid to waste. She saw him again, facing down a demon that gave even Mumm-Rana a touch of fear. The image vanished again, lost in the mists of time. "What have you shown me?" she asked, though the answer was coming to her with certain horrible slowness as if her mind did not wish to comprehend it. "We cannot show all," the spirits said, "for we also slept during that time. However, you witnessed the Fall of Second Earth." "The Great Fall..." she gasped. "Then, the man I saw obliterate the Mutants was..." "The Guyver." "No..." Mumm-Rana backed away from the scrying pool. It was true, then. The Prophecy was... "He has awakened?" "Just weeks ago." "Then why wait to awaken me?" Mumm-Rana demanded. "The Prophecy is unclear," the replied. "Unclear? UNCLEAR! You know what this means as well as I! Third Earth is doomed to die!" "We do not know that with absolute..." "Have you not read what the prophets wrote so long ago?! 'When the Destroyer awakens, Third Earth with be bathed in fire and blood, and will fall into ash for eternity!' How can you be uncertain?" "Those words," the Ancient Ones began, "were written by men. The race of Man knows little of the machinations of the Universe." "What is this? You have never spoken in such obscure riddles before!" "We regret that we must do so now," the Ancient Ones replied. "But, there is no other way. The words of the Prophecy were penned by men, whose language can never adequately express the will of fate, of creation." "I know the nature of prophecy," Mumm-Rana said, turning to each statue in turn. "Even the simplest prophecies can have several meanings, depending on the view of those who behold it. But, how can this prophecy mean anything less than the end of life as this world knows it?!" "Does that mean that all life shall be forever extinguished?" "Third Earth will die. I know the Prophecy inside and out. It was also written that, upon his return, the Destroyer would be weak. A shadow of his former self." "So, what shall you do, Mumm-Rana?" "The choice is clear. He must be stopped before he regains his full power." "Are you certain this is wise?" "What?" Mumm-Rana could hardly believe what she was hearing. "Have you all gone mad?! If Guyver regains his full might, then nothing will be able to stop him! If he is dealt with now, then the Prophecy will be averted!" The Ancient Ones fell silent. Mumm-Rana glared at each statue in turn, inwardly furious. Why? Why would they act in such an unusual manner? Could they be afraid? "If you feel this to be the best approach," they replied at length... "I thank you..." "But," they added, "we must caution you. Do not underestimate the Guyver." "I don't intend to." "Nor must you overestimate your own knowledge of the situation. There are many factors at work that we do not yet know of." "Are you saying that I should just sit about and do nothing?" "We are saying that too much is unknown to us." "Where is The Destroyer now?" "He rests," the replied as the waters of the pool showed the image of the Tower of Omens, "in the Thunderians' last remaining stronghold." "They may not know of the Prophecy." "They know it not." "I must warn them at once!" "The Guyver does not know it, himself." "What?" "We are aware that his memory has failed him. He knows not who he is, knows not the full powers at his disposal." "I must act!" "Not now. For you to attack him in the Thunderians' only stronghold would weaken them further. Would you make them suffer for the sake of a prophecy?" "Are you suggesting I should wait for him to just walk out?!" "We are not suggesting it. We are demanding it." "What is this? O Ancient Ones, you have never given such a command before!" "True. However, you must wait. Moving against the Guyver now would do far more harm than good. Once he leaves their company, then you may act." "By then, he may regain even more of his power! Waiting could prove disastrous! If his evil..." "We understand your concerns," they said, "but you must wait! Now is not the time! We shall awaken you when the time comes." "Yes... you are correct, Masters." Mumm-Rana reigned in her righteous fury as she made her way back to the sarcophagus. They had never betrayed her, never lied to her. Granted, they didn't always reveal everything, but they acted in the best interests of the Light. Mumm-Rana just wished they wouldn't be so damned mysterious about it. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "I'm not certain about this," Bengali said, eyeing the Spaceboard curiously. The sun had just barely risen above the skyline, the hard earth tinged with fiery red. "Oh, come on," WilyKit said from atop her own board. "It's easy! Just climb on and lean forward a little. That'll get you moving!" "I still say we should take the ThunderStrike," the tiger groused as he mounted the floating device. "At least one of the pods." "Wish you could," Lion-O said as he readied one of the kitten's spare boards. "But we need all the firepower we can get here, and the ThunderStrike is all we have available for now. Looks like you're gonna learn how to surf." the Lord of the ThunderCats leapt aboard, easily balancing himself and watching Bengali with undisguised amusement. "Okay..." the bengal muttered. His knees rested on the smooth surface which hovered a mere four feet from the desert floor. From there, he rose unsteadily to his feet. "Okay... I think I got it..." "Good going!" WilyKit hooted. Lion-O, for his part, stood easily atop the floating anti-gravity device which was disguised as an ancient surfboard and tried to keep from laughing. Despite the uncanny agility possessed by ThunderCats, the white tiger looked to be having a hell of a time keeping his balance. "Now, lean forward a little, like this." Bengali watched as the young kitten sent the board ahead, effortlessly staying atop it while the device sailed on a field of null-gravity. Well, he thought, if she can do it then so can I. He leaned forward slightly... And the Spaceboard took off like a rocket. With a startled cry, Bengali fell from the Spaceboard to land smartly on his behind. "Go ahead, laugh it up!" he growled as he regained his feet. Lion-O was nearly doubled over - still securely atop his board, Bengali noticed with some irritation - howling with mirth. WilyKit descended, laughing as well. "Are you okay?" she asked. "Nothing hurt but my pride." This was going to be a LONG trip. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Ma-Mutt..." The ancient demon hound raised his ghastly head at the voices of Them, the ones his master served. They had never spoken to him before. The hellhound stepped nervously toward the cauldron, the only source of light in the lifeless chamber. "We require your magics..." Ma-Mutt knew what they wanted. The magical power within him was ingrained from his creation in the Hellforge, things he could do without thinking. "Mumm-Ra will awaken soon, but he will be weak," The Ancient Spirits of Evil said into the empty confines of the tomb. "The way must be prepared in order for us to crush the light once and for all. Listen closely..." Ma-Mutt heard and, once They were finished, he obeyed. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Still an hour from the Tuska Camps," Lion-O muttered as the Spaceboard glided above the clay surface of the desert. While far faster than walking, the device wasn't meant for high speeds. Panthro had designed them for the kittens, after all, and giving them floating rockets would have been a sure recipe for disaster. Still, it was a pleasant mode of travel. He took a moment to look out over the barren vista. Much of Third Earth - the parts the ThunderCats had explored, at least - was covered in desert. There were patches of lush greenery here and there, but for the most part it was uninhabitable. Lion-O thought back to the stories he'd heard of the Great Fall. Two thousand years, and much of the planet was still devastated. Life finds a way, he told himself. Lately, that lesson had become all the more personal. Maybe in another thousand years or so, Third Earth would be completely covered in greenery again. He wouldn't live to see it, but future generations of ThunderCats would. But first, the Mutant Army had to be dealt with. That sobering thought brought the weight of reality back squarely on his shoulders. If they didn't overcome this trial, then there would *be* no future generations of ThunderCats. Lion-O's face darkened as he steered the gliding machine over the hard-packed ground. There were a total of ten Thunderians on Third Earth. He didn't have to do the math to know that re-building their race here would be a monstrous task. There had to be others out in the universe somewhere, but how to get them here? How to... "WHOA!" He jerked the board left to avoid the jagged boulder he hadn't noticed until the last second. Close. *Way* too close. The camp was only forty minutes away, he estimated. Best not lose focus now. --------------------------------------------------------------------- Though he didn't know it at the time, and wouldn't have cared to anyway, Bengali was having far different thoughts about Spaceboards and their use as transportation. ?How do you kids ride these things?!? he growled at WilyKit?s back. ?Oh, quit your griping,? she chided. The kitten brought her board around in a casual motion and faced the albino tiger. ?It beats walking, doesn?t it?? ?That depends on your opinion,? Bengali groused as he balanced himself on the floating machine. ThunderCats were supposed to have incredible balance and agility! What the hell was the problem? ?Look on the bright side,? she said with a grin, ?you?ve gotten a lot better.? ?Indeed?? ?Yeah! You can ride standing up instead of sitting on the board. That?s something.? ?The Berbil Village isn?t far, is it?? ?Another few minutes. After that is the?? ?You don?t have to finish that. Let?s go.? ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Pain. That was the first thing Sho was aware of on waking. He opened his eyes, disregarding every instinct that told him not to, and beheld the same room he had awoken in before. Bengali normally slept here, he remembered. Where was he? Sho organized his thoughts as best he was able. He closed his eyes and reopened them in an effort to bring what he saw into clearer focus. God, he couldn?t remember being so tired. Even that time when? ?Damn?? The strange Mutant machines bearing down on him, the terrible light from his chest, the? ?Megasmasher.? He whispered that word, fought down the terrible feelings it brought up. How did he have such an amazing weapon? He had ensured everyone?s escape - the proof being that he was back in this bedroom now - but why did the memory of that cause such fear, such dread? How long have I been out? He asked himself as if expecting an answer. Using that Megasmasher had drained him completely. He had nearly passed out while still wearing the armor (and why did that thought scare him even worse?) and had barely deactivated it before collapsing. He knew that laying in this bed would get him no answers, and so he rose. ?Owwww?? the twinge in his back nearly sat him back on the mattress. He breathed deeply for a few moments before rising to his full height and stumbling toward the door. Best to work out the kinks and find out what this new day had in store. ------------------------------------------------------------------- ?I?ll be right back, WilyKat.? Pumyra had said that ten minutes ago. The young cat looked over at Cheetara's battered form and couldn't help but feel the shame return. If only he could have... "How are you feeling?" He knew damn good and well how she was feeling, but small talk was better than chasing himself in circles. "Rather good, considering," Cheetara replied. Her voice had a somewhat dreamy tone to it, doubtless from the painkillers. "I'm glad to hear it," he said around the lump that had made his throat a home. His eyes wandered over the bandages wrapped about the cheetah's suspended body and found himself imagining the marks beneath them, how... "Let me ask you something," Cheetara said, startling him out of his dark thoughts. "I remember someone crashing through the roof of the dungeon. Who was that?" "Oh! Him, his name's Sho." WilyKat replied, relieved. "He's also the Guyver." "The legends were true, then?" "Sure were, Cheetara." WilyKat averted his eyes, studying a diagram of Thunderian anatomy on the wall with interest. He waited, hoping she would ask who Sho was, how they met him, how they got back, anything but how he felt. It had to be said, he needed to have this talk, but it was just so hard. The words seemed too large to pass through his mouth, dread at what was inevitable settling in his stomach like a lead weight. It was Cheetara who made the first move. "It wasn't your fault." WilyKat stood there, frozen. The dread blossomed into full-on fear. No, he thought. I have to be a man, now. I can't run away. "Cheetara, I..." "I'm sorry you had to see what Slythe was doing to me," she went on, "sorry that we found ourselves in there to begin with. But, what's done is done. You're not to blame." "Ch... Cheetara..." he replied while hot tears burned down his face and sniffles were evolving to sobs. "I... I'm the one... who should be sorry!" "Do you know what the most horrible moment of my life was?" WilyKat couldn't speak, his chest hitching every other second. "When I saw them place you where I had been." Silence stretched between them, broken only by the fading sobs of the young Thunderian boy. After what felt like hours, he slowly turned to see her. She stared directly at him, her eyes glimmering with tears that wanted to be shed. But, what most drew him was the look in those slitted orbs. Forgiveness. No, not forgiveness, but love. Why did that hurt? Why did love make him feel so miserable, more than seeing anger in Cheetara's eyes ever could? When did the world decide to stop making any damn sense?! "When I saw them chaining you there, readying the whips," she said, "I was horrified. But, also, I was furious." WilyKat's sobs began to die. "I felt rage at the Mutants for daring to do this to you, and at myself." "You did?" "I was far too weak to stop them. I couldn't focus any power to save you. My body refused to obey, no matter how much I demanded it to." The tears began to fall, and WilyKat stared in amazement. "I know what you're going through, because I felt it myself. I felt so impotent, so powerless, while they were about to whip you like they did me." Cheetara tried to control the tears as they fell. They were safe, now, and that was the most important thing. But, here and now, she needed to share this pain with WilyKat. He had to know that he was not alone in his feelings. He stood rooted in place, staring at her, crying as she was. They had been through that hell together, and Cheetara knew that he came out far more scarred than she. She'd only been beaten. He - like his sister - had his innocence cruelly stolen. She didn't know how WilyKit was faring, but she did know what WilyKat was going through. He stepped forward hesitantly. Cheetara moved her arms forward, stretching them outward. They needed to share this pain. He knelt before her, and the two embraced. She didn't mind the pressure of his arms against one of her wounds, merely held him as tightly as she could. "It's okay," she said before planting a delicate kiss on the young boy's - no, man's - cheek. No other words were spoken, there was no need. They merely held onto each other, their tears soaking each other's shoulders. And so they began to finally - to truly - heal. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Hmmm..." Tygra muttered at the viewscreen. He felt his anger rise as he beheld the image of Cat's Lair lying in ruin. It had taken months to build, weeks of meticulous planning and sleepless nights. Thank goodness the Berbils had been so willing to help - and that they followed instructions so exactly - or Cat's Lair would never have existed at all on Third Earth. Finding the compex network of caves that had been hewn out of the stone had been a miracle. Those caves - once properly formed and supported - had become the hallways of the Lair. The entire process had been painstakingly slow, and also extremely dangerous, but they had gotten it done. Theoretically, it was possible to build another, but the task would be daunting to say the least. The Berbils were in no condition to help them this time, and who knew how much of the Thunderian technology could be salvaged from the remains of the old Lair? Even Panthro's skills had limits, and a lot of what they had gleaned from their original ship had to be bootlegged in order to function in their new home. Then they would have to somehow excavate the power system as well. It was deep beneath the Lair, so it should have suffered minimal damage... "I'm getting ahead of myself," Tygra said as he consulted his original schematics. Rebuilding the Lair wasn't the problem, but removing the weapons and parts inside the hangars was. "Who... oh, finally up, are we?" Tygra asked when the doors opened and Sho stepped inside. The kid looked like he'd been dragged through a hedge backwards, hair toussled and face drawn. "How long has it been?" "About thrity hours, give or take." "Ouch. Sorry." "No problem, Sho," Tygra replied as he walked over. "Feeling okay?" "For the most part, yeah." "Good. There should be some leftovers from breakfast in the kitchen. I'm certain Snarf wouldn't mind warming some up." "Thanks. I'll head down there in a minute. Say, what's that?" Sho asked, pointing at the screen. "That is what's left of Cat's Lair." "Oh." "I'm trying to determine how I can salvage our equipment from there." "That's a lot of rubble to move," Sho said lamely. "The rubble itself isn't so much the problem," Tygra said as if teaching a cub, "but it could be if the structural integrity of the hangars..." "Those paw-like things?" "Very good, Sho. Yes, if the materials that comprise them has been weakened, then the entire structures could come crashing down." "So, blasting your way isn't an option, then." "No, I would say not." "These are blueprints, right?" Sho asked, pointing to the diagrams on Tygra's right. "Yes, and I'm rather proud of them." "You're an architect?" Sho asked with a touch of wonder. "Indeed. I also have limited knowledge of medicine." "A doctor and an architect," Sho said, "you must do a lot around here." "Yes, but Pumyra has far more experience in medicine than I do. She was a certified healer back on Thundera." "Your home planet?" "That's right." "Why did you guys leave?" "Our planet was about to break apart." "Oh, I see. I'm sorry." "No need to apologize." "So, you need a way to get your stuff out of that Lair, huh?" "Yes." "Can I help?" "I don't know," Tygra replied at length. "I'll keep your offer in mind, though." "Okay. Well," Sho said as he turned, "I think I'll get some breakfast. See you later." "Bye." As Sho left, Tygra considered his offer. His powers were awfully destructive, but... No. The outer layer of the hangars was pure Tritanium. His weapons might be able to blast through, but would probably make the whole thing collapse. No, Sho's powers were too strong. Still, Tygra did appreciate the offer. Sho couldn't deny it, he felt stronger with every step. As his strength grew, so did his appetite. Whatever leftovers were in the kitchen, he felt he could eat every bite. He didn't know why, but he felt good despite the Guyver having drained him so much. Maybe it was the thrity hours of sleep, or maybe he was regaining his strength. Just how powerful am I? he asked himself. I know I can... hey... An idea occurred to him as he trod the hallway. He had to help the ThunderCats, it was - by proxy - his responsibility. But how? What did he have that would... "HEY!" "OH! Oh, jeez, I'm sorry, Snarfer!" "Snarfer?" Sho looked down at the creature, and noticed that it seemed older. The satchel he'd seen Snarfer wear was also missing. Was this... "Snarf Osbert?" "Shneeyarf, that's me," the small being replied, "but DON'T call me Osbert! Just Snarf, okay?" "Just Snarf, I got it." "Good! You must be Sho." Snarf looked up at him with more than a touch of anxiety. "That's me." "So... uh... Thanks for your help the other night." "No problem." Snarf was afraid of him, Sho could see it. Best to warm up his own breakfast and stay away from the elder... whatever Snarf was. "I'll just pop off for a bite to eat, and see if I can make myself useful around here." "Good idea. The kitchen's one floor down, can't miss it." "Thanks." Sho walked away feeling quite awkward. He shelved that feeling as he neared the stairwell. His stomach was growling fit to roar any second. Food first, then he would consider how to retrieve the ThunderCat's equipment from the Lair. ----------------------------------------------------- "By all that's holy..." Bengali muttered in disbelief at what remained of the Treetop Kingdom. The Berbil Village had been bad enough, but this... this was beyond all imagining. The great forest was now a blackened, smoking ruin; the acrid stench permeating every inch of the air he breathed. How many had died there? Did he even want to know? "How could they..." he heard WilyKit whisper. "How could they do something like this?" "THUNDERCATS!" As one, WilyKit and Bengali altered course toward the young boy that had called to them. Bengali recalled hearing that most Warrior Maidens gave birth to females. A boy like him must be rare, indeed. "Greetings," Bengali said as they came up alongside. The boy was slight, couldn't be more than eleven. Wavy blonde hair framed a shy face and cornflower blue eyes. "I'm Kora," he said in greeting. "I am Bengali, and this is WilyKit." "This way," Kora said without preamble. "Old Analee is waiting." Bengali counted seventy-four people, all that had survived from a group of far more. He tried to ignore the cries from the injured as he and WilyKit followed Kora through the disorganized throng. These brave people had been reduced to nothing in the space of a day, and for what? For the armor that boy, Sho, possessed. For the Guyver. Whatever the hell it was, Bengali found himself coming to loathe it. True, it had been instrumental in saving four imprisoned ThunderCats, and ensuring that the rest weren't wiped out the process, but still this violence - this pure evil - would never have happened if not for him. Stop it, he told himself. How could one human be responsible for all this? How could he not be? It was the power he possessed that was the catalyst, right? Right?! "Welcome," the scratchy voice said as the two Thunderians came to the center of the makeshift village. "Kora, you may leave, now." She was easily the oldest human Bengali had ever seen. Her snow-white hair was tangled and matted, skin pale and frame bent. So, this was Analee. Three others - far younger and in the same blue robes as her - darted about barking orders and trying to heal the survivors. Something about the whole scene gave Bengali a bad feeling about what this la-*test*-('") report would bring. "I am Bengali." "I'm WilyKit." "Please, come with me." The sun had begun to set, the sky having shifted from deep blue to flaming red as the three stood atop a grassy hill merely a hundred meters from the encampent of the Warrior Maidens. Stars scattered about the heavens looked down upon the three, and upon the chaos of the encampent behind them. Bengali looked up at those stars and wondered if, indeed, there was some grand force out there that guided lives of mortals. He stared back at the fires of the camp, and wondered if there was truly some higher purpose such tragedy could serve. "Thank you for coming, ThunderCats," Analee said. Her voice carried such intense weariness, yet the undercurrent of strength was unmistakeable. "How could we not come at a time like this?" WilyKit answered. "How are your fellows fairing?" "Well enough." Bengali didn't go into detail. Doubtless in the past two days this old woman had dealt with more than the ThunderCats had. At least all his friends were alive. "And you?" "I must be strong, outwardly at least," Analee repled. "Inwardly, though, I am certain that this may well be the end for us Warrior Maidens." WilyKit gasped in horror. "Analee, don't say that!" The young girl placed her hand on the old woman's shoulder. "You can't just give up!" "What you saw," the healer began, "is only the surface of the problem." "What do you mean?" "Bengali, Willa is dead." The words hit him like a punch in the stomach. WilyKit, for her part, raised a hand to her face in shock. "Nayda, who would have taken her place, has died as well." "My condolences," he replied lamely. What could he say that could even begin to encompass such horrors? "There is no one left to reign over the Warrior Maidens. I will do what I can, but I do not know how much longer we can cling to life. Our ancient home is gone, now, and too few of us remain to rebuild elsewhere." "If there's anything we can do..." "Thank you, young man, but this may be our destiny." WilyKit only stared in open-mouthed horror, tears streaming freely from her golden eyes. "There is no need for tears, girl," Analee said gently. "One cannot change fate." "No...." "WilyKit?" "No... No, I won't believe it! I won't!" "KIT!" Bengali shouted as she spun and ran into the night. "Analee, I..." "I know, young man. Go to her. Leave the Warrior Maidens to me." "The ThunderCats will always be there for you." "I know, and I thank you. Go." Analee watched as Bengali raced after the weeping girl. Analee had seen her quite a few times in the Treetop Kingdom. She seemed to admire Willa and Nayda. The news had to have been devastating for the child. I am sorry, young WilyKit, she thought. I recall how you and Nayda would gossip, how you would help Willa braid her hair. I know all of this, and I know how much they loved you, how much you loved them. I only hope you find a man you can truly love on this world. With that, Analee turned back toward what remained of the Warrior Maidens. Willa, Nayda, they were the closest things to sisters the Thunderian girl had on Third Earth, aside from the two Thunderian women. Another tragedy this la-*test*-('") battle had wrought. At least, Analee thought, those damnable Mutants had suffered as well. She thought back to the old legends. Guyver was alive and well, and back among the world of mortals. I know little of the ancient writings, Analee mused as she trod back toward camp, but this must be an omen for all Third Earth. If it truly is darkest just before the dawn, Analee thought, then the true darkness has yet to begin. WilyKit charged blindly forward, uncaring where her feet led her through the thick dew-drenched sea of wild grasses. The night had grown cold to match the icy horror within while hot tears burned down her face in stark contrast. Willa... Nayda... Both so full of life when she had last seen them, both free and healthy and... "NO!" She refused to accept what Analee had told her. No, no way were they... She couldn't bring herself to think it. ("I wish I was a grownup.") ("Why is that?") ("People would take me seriously. They wouldn't treat me like a kid.") (WilyKit, if you want to be treated as an adult, you must act like one.") ("I know. But... that's not all... I want to be beautiful, as well. Like you, Willa.") ("Who says you aren't?") ("... no one...") ("Don't rush things, Kit. You'll grow up soon enough. And I know that you'll become a beautiful woman.") WilyKit felt no pain when she tripped and spilled to the damp ground, only the deep agony spiking at that memory. Just a year ago. One year since she'd talked with Willa about that. She couldn't talk to Cheetara, Pumyra and her two friends hadn't been found then, and... It began to sink in. Willa and Nayda were... were... "Dead..." The release of that word unleashed a torrent of anguish that had been inside since seeing Cheetara being beaten. Wailing sobs burst from her throat just as she felt a pair of strong arms cradle her shoulders. "Let it out, Kit," she barely heard Bengali say. "Just let it all out." Bengali knelt there, holding the weeping girl. She had latched onto him like a drowning man to a life preserver, her cries muffled into his chest. No words were said. The white tiger merely let her vent, his left hand stroking her red and black hair. She must have been very close to those two. What could he say? Nothing. Guyver... All this because of the Guyver. Because of Sho. If he needed any more proof, it was soaking his clothes with tears right now. ------------------------------------------------------- It was late when he walked in. Pumyra sat upright as Bengali entered the room they had shared since Sho's arrival - they had no thoughts of changing this current arrangement, either - and immediately noticed the drained look on his face. "Bengali?" "I just finished my report on the Berbils and Warrior Maidens," he replied, sitting heavily on the bed. "Oh." The sound of his voice told her that the news had been very, very bad. She rose up behind him and pressed her bare breasts into his back as her arms encircled him. "The Berbils had finished burying their dead," he went on. "Their village was a complete disaster. The HoverCat is still there, too." Pumyra remained silent, merely squeezing him tighter. "But the Warriror Maidens..." Pumyra listened as Bengali told her what Analee had said, and how WilyKit had reacted at the news of Willa and Nayda's deaths. "Poor girl," she said once she was certain she wouldn't cry, herself. "I'll talk to her in the morning." "I need to have a talk with someone tomorrow as well." "Who?" "Sho." "Why?" "Just so he knows what he's done. I want to see him react to the..." "Bengali, stop that!" "It's..." "Look, I know you're angry, furious, even. But, Sho isn't at fault!" "All of this started with him!" "Did he attack the Berbils? Did he attack the Warrior Maidens? Did he attack Cat's Lair? As I recall, he defended the Berbils, he helped save our friends, AND did serious damage to the Mutant Army!" "...." "Let's get some sleep," Pumyra said. "Tomorrow, we'll talk, just you and me." "I can't sleep," Bengali said. "My mind won't shut up..." his words vanished as her mouth closed over his. After what felt like forever, their lips parted, and... Oh... he knew that look.... "Let's just take our minds off all this. Just for a while." His eyes traced down her modest breasts, past her stomach to the edge of the sheets, and Bengali was surprised at his reaction. After today, this should be the last thing on his mind! But, on looking into Pumyra's achingly beautiful eyes, he knew that he needed this. He needed such intimate, such life-affirming contact after seeing so much death. By the moons of Thundera, he thought as their lips joined again, I love you, Pumyra... ---------------------------------------------------------- In the next episode: ... why spoil the surprise? See you then!