Chapter Text
He was Lord Hordak, leader of the Etherian Horde, commander of the Fright Zone. A once-exalted general, favoured of Horde Prime Eternal. He had conquered Horror Hall, taken the Black Garnet, and unseated a king. He had landed on this wretched planet alone, survived with next to nothing , had done more, in fact. He had thrived. He was a force to be reckoned with, a being to be feared.
And yet, as he looked deeply into the reflection of glowing red eyes, he felt- never afraid you do not feel fear - disquieted.
The portal was… It was, for all intents and purposes, a success. They had discovered the means to create it, had even had it working, however briefly. But that missing piece, it had meant they were at a stand-still. And for the first time in his life, Hordak was happy to be stalled in his progress. His hand hovered over the magenta crystal, mirror imitating life as skeletal hands raised in unison. They were wrong, imperfect, and yet… Lately, those poisonous thoughts were coddled by a bright, loud voice. Reminding him they were imperfect, yes, but- beautiful.
But now. Now, Catra had returned with that blasted sword. Against all odds, that disrespectful little cretin had succeeded. Only Catra could complete a mission with flying colours and still throw a proverbial wrench in his plans. The final piece to their puzzle, the part that would get the clock moving again. He had no reason to put off the project, right? It was his duty, as a clone, to reconnect with Prime. Hear the chorus of his brothers in his mind once more, after all these long years. And Entrapta would be so disappointed if he halted the project! They had created that portal together, and she was so, so determined to make the project come to life.
But he didn’t want to.
Would Prime silence that warm voice forever? Both in his mind, and in this world? Was there any way to keep her safe and also return to his Creator’s side? He wanted to say yes, confident and bold, but-
He slammed his fist against the glass, glancing over his shoulder at the startled screech that echoed in the barren washroom. Imp, no longer asleep, had flung himself from a cozy little ball, full of hissing and spite as he calmed down from the noise. Hordak chuckled, refusing to notice how his face softened in his reflection at his little companion.
“You are so dramatic, really.” Imp chirruped at him, low and grumpy, and he just shook his head. He gave his full attention back at the mirror, black-rimmed eyes glaring as he frowned at himself severely. What had changed? Why was he so hesitant? If he returned, surely Prime would welcome him, be proud of him. Surely he would be exalted once again?
You know that’s a lie. You are broken.
He hung his head forward, clutching at the sink basin until his claws started to bend metal. Why now? Why did he have to think of this now ?
{ Imperfections are beautiful.} Entrapta's voice was magnified in the near-empty room, and he both saw and felt his face flush to hear it so seemingly close.
He snarled at the little Imp, taking a furious swipe as the ingrate took off, cackling. “You dare laugh, you impudent little-”
{ Impudent Imp- Imp-}
The brat circled above him, delighted, and Hordak ran his hand through his now-dishevelled hair. He was patting it all into place regulation, identical, perfect when the room washed red, an alarm blaring directly over his sensitive ears. He screeched, loudly, ears pinning straight back in shock as Imp immediately started mocking his panic.
{ So dramatic So dramatic}
Forget his doubts. He would open that portal just so Prime would get rid of Imp for him, the failed little clone that he was. If he was defective, Imp was a whole other class. He shook his head free of the thought. Imp had his uses. It would be a pity to have him destroyed. A deeper part of him whispered that he would feel guilty, and he firmly squashed the snaking thought down.
He glared up at the alarm, sighing heavily as his ears twitched in irritation (and in time with the obnoxious sound). “What, then, do you suppose is on fire now?”
{ Take Emily Programming is glitchy.}
“Let us hope Entrapta’s robot is not the cause.” He pressed his lips together, frowning. Her bots did have a penchant for going a little crazy here and there, but she would be upset if Emily in particular was damaged at all. “Imp, go to Entrapta. I will check on the portal. Make sure Kyle is not in any way involved.”
Imp chirped in affirmative, gliding up to the vent. He craned his little neck back, staring at Hordak, then cheekily opened his mouth to let out one more Hordak-screech before escaping. Hordak growled, deep in his chest, before leaving the room.
Impudent, indeed.
Imp hopped through the vents, knocking some covers loose to clatter to the floors below as he went. The alarms blared on, but it wasn’t a completely uncommon occurrence. He sniffed, tracing the oil-sweet-electric smell. She always smelled vaguely of his Maker, which made tracking easier to find.
He poked at the vent where her scent was strongest, shifting a pile of food wrappers that were securely tucked into the ducts to get better access to the opening, giving it a little rattle that couldn’t be heard over the continuous noise. He could make out her voice, but only just. The grate shifted, but didn’t give right away. He was just using his sharp little claws, picking at a screw that seemed to have jimmied itself into an awkward position, when he heard a door slide open. His ears perked when he heard the object of his search increase her voice, his head cocking. Her voice was normally excited, but this sounded… unhappy. And when she was unhappy, Maker was unhappy.
His ears swivelled forward, focused, as the one that smelled like fur-anger-static confronted his Maker’s partner.
Bow screamed as they rounded a corner, nearly running into yet another robot. His arrow, grabbed in a panic but shot with deadly accuracy, hit dead-centre, shorting the machine out. He could have salvaged the arrow, the shaft was still intact, but they didn’t have time to stop. Shadow Weaver shouted an alarm, and he looked up just as a little grey body swooped overhead.
“That beast is Hordak’s personal spy! Do not let it get away! And be careful; it bites!”
Bow swallowed, drawing a net arrow and taking aim. The little creature glanced back, a surprisingly humanoid face narrowing its eyes at him, before it swooped high, into the rafters. He took a shot, hoping, but it performed a quick maneuver, slamming into the ceiling as it evaded the arrow, all the while screeching in rage. Its little claws grasped at the metal ceiling, scraping grooves, as it prepared itself to launch in their direction. He grunted in frustration, grabbing another arrow as he waited for it to spring its attack. Instead, it reeled back, some ungodly sound booming from it- it might have been speech, it sounded like a woman screaming and the chills that hit him were crazy - before it gathered itself and bolted down the hall. Away from them.
Bow lowered his weapon, frowning. “Aren’t Horde minions supposed to attack? Why is it flying away? And better yet, isn’t this the way you said would take us to the Sanctum? Why is it leading us straight to Hordak?”
Shadow Weaver hissed. “It is likely reporting us to Hordak. We must hurry!”
Glimmer glanced at him, still in-hand the red-robed sorceress, and he wondered if she had the same question on her mind as he did. Hordak knew they were there. That was the point of an alarm. So why didn’t the creature try to stop them?
Hordak stared in awe at the portal, the energy constant and strong. She did it. Entrapta actually did it. Years spent trying to do what she had done in mere weeks, and he couldn’t find the strength to be angry about it. He barely registered Catra’s words, only catching her annoyed tone, before his head cocked ever-so-slightly. Open the portal? He couldn’t open the portal without Entrapta. She had to be present. If he opened it without her, he would never hear the end of it, and her rage wasn’t something he took lightly. She was truly a marvel.
He needed her.
Catra laughed, and he was only a bit embarrassed to realize he had said that aloud. But she shook her head when he turned to glare at her, daring her to openly mock him. Instead of the cutting and blatant lack of respect he had come to expect from her, she opened her mouth-
“Entrapta? Who do you think let the princesses in?”
-and shattered him.
His hand crumpled into the metal of the console before he acknowledged he had even moved. A cold feeling was spreading through him, inexplicably flooding from his chest until it numbed him, made his hands and feet nothing more than a distant buzzing on the edge of his consciousness.
He felt disconnected.
“But she-”
Cold.
“She wouldn’t-”
Empty.
Adora flinched when Hordak slammed his fist on the console, noting Catra’s little grin. He snarled, and she heard him whisper, deny. Heard Catra laugh, glare back at her as she told him all princesses lie. And she saw his hand reach for the bright crystal around his neck. He looked so broken.
“Did you really think she was on our side? Oh, you can’t trust anyone, especially a princess. They’ll just use you to get what they want. Open the portal, and let’s end this.” Adora flinched at Catra's bitter tone, something in her lurching. Hordak had an expression on his face, and she wondered, just briefly, if it wasn't the same one she had. But it couldn't be. Hordak was Hordak. He had stolen her, why would he care about a lost princess?
There was a sudden clattering of metal, a grate hitting the floor with a resounding clang that jolted all three of them. The little winged spy swooped in through a vent, screeching furiously as it latched onto Catra’s hair, teeth sinking into her ear and drawing a yowl of rage and pain from her. She swatted it off, and as it slid across the floor it opened its tiny mouth and Entrapta’s voice spilled from it.
{No. I won’t. I need to tell Hordak. He’ll understand- AAHHH}
Hordak stared, wide-eyed, and so many emotions ran across his face that it was impossible to name them. But they settled on rage, and it was a look she knew well. His head was low as he swung his gaze toward Catra, eyes narrowed to slits and glowing brighter in his shadowed face.
“You have one chance, Catra. What. Did. You. Do.” Catra gulped audibly, and Adora felt herself do the same. Hordak looked feral. His steps were slow, stalking, and Catra slowly backed up towards her. Maybe it was muscle memory, from back in the old days when they had each others’ backs, but even in the situation they were in, Adora was still quietly happy she sought her out. He ran forward, claws slashing at Catra as she scrambled to avoid him. His breath was heaving as he swung at her, again and again and again until there was a horrible sound, a heavy impact.
Adora screamed through the rag as Catra went flying, cracking violently into a wall before the little imp was on her, trying to scratch her face and blind her. She sunk her claws into the little body, throwing him with such force that he bounced across the ground. He landed near Adora, little form still as angry red gashes seeped blood on the floor. Hordak watched, eyes wide, some kind of aborted scream ripping from him, before his gaze snapped back to Catra. He dashed in, red energy crackling around his shoulders as he picked a struggling Catra up. With a howl that was half mad and half pure pain, he hurled her across the room, her claws dragging against his arms with an ear-piercing shrill.
She managed to get her feet under her, scrabbling to a stop as he swayed on the spot. His chest was heaving, and all control looked to be gone. Catra seemed to notice, too, and she shifted her stance. More balanced, more alert. He was getting sloppy in his anger. It was like watching lambs being led to the slaughter, and for probably the first time, Hordak was the lamb. Adora wrenched forward, trying to break free from her bindings, but it was useless. Catra circled him, eyes wild but body sure, proud. She was getting cocky. Toying with him.
“No- No! I am not gonna let you get this far and decide they are worth more! The princesses are nothing, don’t you understand!?”
Hordak had no words left, just yelling in incoherent rage as he lunged forward. Catra was far too graceful, too fast, for his clumsy attacks to do much. She flipped behind him, deftly kicking him square in the back. He fell to his knees with a strangled cry, and even from where she was Adora heard his nails scream against the floor.
“If you can’t see that, then you are nothing , do you understand? I am going to win, and if I have to take you down to do it, then I will.” She held her claws at ready, approaching the fallen form of their once-leader with a dark and terrifying purpose, and all Adora could do was try to scream.