Thundercats: Return By Fire

Written by Jesse Morgan

-- Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters. The Thundercats are copywritten to their respective owners. The characters have been altered or developed by me, based on characters from the cartoon and comic book series. The plot and story is based on the anime "Fatal Fury: The Motion Picture" and the comic book "Thundercats: The Return." This story also contains depictions of violence and adult language that should not be read by children of a very young age. All comments regarding the story can be sent to catsfan1@hotmail.com --

            Thundera. It was a planet once the home of millions of anthropomorphic felines. A planet that was filled with peace, harmony among its inhabitants. It was protected by a group of warriors known as the Thundercats. They were trained in several arts of combats, with mystical weapons and powers only harbored by them. They were strengthened by the Eye of Thundera and the Sword of Omens, only wielded by the Lord of the Thundercats. They lived by a sacred code uttered all across Thundera: Justice, truth, honor, and loyalty.

            Decades of peace swept Thundera. The only threat of the Mutants of the planet Plundarr. Years of combat weakened their forces and they were not enough to get past the Royal Guard anymore. The Thundercats purpose dwindled with time and they separated, only a few remaining at the palace to protect the King of the Thundera from any severe danger.

            Decades of peace, safety throughout the land and seas until the most dangerous threat fell upon Thundera. Years of wait before the Mutants sought out a new help, a new aide in their quest to rule the planet of Thundera. Their search took them across the galaxy, through a new land of Third Earth. There they found the mystic, the ancient evil that was Mumm-Ra. They called upon his help, swore undying allegiance to the mummified creature that was created by the Ancient Spirits of Evil.

            On Thundera, a war began. A war between the people of Thundera and the Mutants of Plundarr. A war that raged with fire and death when Mumm-Ra arrived on the planet of Thundera. His transformed body a large summit of muscle and destruction. His skin was the pale blue of a twilight moon. Gold bracelets bound his wrists, his chest baring the emblem of a twin-headed snake coiled around itself. His eyes were drenched in red, the color of the blood he shed across Thundera with the one weapon that gave him even more power than his decaying body was endowed with. He carried the twin-bladed Sword of Plundarr, destroying what he could with the stains of Thunderians and Thundercats alike on it.

            He began to build an empire, taking over lands all over Thundera. He constructed a city in his likeness, with the evil Onyx Pyramid thriving in the center of it. He succeeded in defeating thousands before attempting to take his fight to the heart of Thundera, the city home to the King of Thundera.

            Centuries of work and buildings crumbled into broken rock again when Mumm-Ra struck. He enslaved thousands while taking apart the city that was once a structure of beauty and prestige. He held the King of Thundera, the youthful Claudus, in prison, left him there to slowly die away like that of his people. But he had faith. Though his wife's blood was taken against the blade of a Mutant's dagger, though he'd never seen the son she gave birth to hours before the attack, he had faith. He knew the Thundercats still lived, the very few that were the strongest of the group. He knew the war would not be filled with not just disaster, but the bringing of something greater.

            When the war ended, the Thunderians stood triumphant with the assistance of another ancient being. They sought out Mumm-Rana, a supernatural woman also from the planet of Third Earth. She was bestowed power that equaled that of Mumm-Ra, by the Ancient Spirits of Good. She pulled together the remaining Thundercats and battled the forces of Mumm-Ra. The Thundercat Jaga, an accomplished warrior that destroyed many Mutants in defense of Thundera and the royal family, supported her. He passed on the Sword of Omens to Mumm-Rana, battled by her side as she fought mercilessly against Mumm-Ra.

            Mumm-Rana defeated Mumm-Ra, in turn shattering the Sword of Omens in her final battle against the immortal demon. She drove a final shard of the Sword of Omens into the chest of Mumm-Ra. But it did not destroy him, only disperse his powers. It drove his everliving spirit into a stone statue that remains in an unknown area of Thundera.

            Evil died that day across many regions of Thundera, as did Mumm-Rana. Her days without returning to her sarcophaguses on Third Earth diminished her power, left her weakened and unable to take the journey back to her home world. Her spirit, along with the others that died in the war with Mumm-Ra, passed from the world of Thundera, left it with peace to survive through decades more of prosperity.

            Those decades left Thundera without the Thundercats, without a reason to fear a lethal enemy. Jaga remained loyal to the old King of Thundera, Claudus. He, along with the Royal Army, fought any new breed of evil until his death. His old age, years of fighting, took everything from him but his Thundercat spirit, one that still whispered across the lands of Thundera. One that even wept when King Claudus did pass, leaving behind a government born of his rules and a land governed with the goodness of his heart. It breathed with the love of good.

            Good never exists without evil. And those decades only brought hunger for revenge, for power, for a chance to be a God rather than a King. Many sought with that hunger and failed. Still, it never ceased to exist. It only harbored its energy and grew until it found its proper home. It waited for its chance. It waited because Thundera now only existed with an army of normal warriors, a government ruled by ancient laws and the myth that one day the lost Lord of the Thundercats might return to power. But it was a myth and evil did not believe in myths.

                                                                                    **

            A desert, one of the few on Thundera, breezed with the thick, dusty air of a blazing sun. The wind carried the sand across an airship guarded by a few mutants of the planet Plundarr. Some still lived on Thundera, scattered in the darkest areas of the planet, hiding in fear of being exposed and killed.

            Nearby, a deep shaft carried two mutants to their destination. They searched with a lust to gain some form of power, control over any area of Thundera. They were known pirates of evil, but they were never bold enough to take their hunger for supremacy to battle. They knew they weren't strong enough to handle any member of the army.

            "Caw.. There it is. We've found it."

            The Vultureman, one of the few mutants that carried a level of intelligence above normal regard. As smart as he was treacherous, his cowardness was only exceeding by few. But it didn't matter now. He'd located a treasure that was unknown to many, but to those who did, it was power beyond mild imagination.

            "Yes, we've found it and now power will be mine. Now, I will rule the universe as my ancestor Ratilla did so long ago."

            Ratar-O's ears raised and his smile was heavy with that of power. He was a Plunderrian mutant skilled in combat that he rarely used. He was notorious across the galaxy, his long mustache and twin sais baring hypnotic eyes exposed him to all and left fear to the weak. His intelligence aided him in conquering many, but none of Thundera. But his lust for controlling a new world was growing and this discovery only aided his ravage nature in its quest.

            "You? I think that we were going to rule," Vultureman squawked, squinting his eyes at his supposed comrade.

            "Yes, yes, we shall rule. But it is I who has the warlike nature to truly give us control over this despicable planet," Ratar-O argued, pulling one of his sais from his belt. He held it to Vultureman's throat, the sharp tip just barely touching skin. It was a warning.

            "Ah, but I am the one with the intelligence. Only I will know how to use this new weapon," Vultureman countered, trying to swallow back his obvious fear. He did not dare move. He knew he would risk spilling his own blood by the weapon of his cohort.

            Ratar-O lowered his jagged blade, narrowing an eye at Vultureman before lifting a small golden box from the dirt. He sheathed his blade again, eyes never wondering from Vultureman. He dusted it off, an encrusted symbol of a twin-headed snake in the center of the box. "We shall see Vultureman."

            The wind outside of the shaft shifted in a new direction, a jackal's eyes following it as it did. He watched the sand part slightly, a lone figure approaching. His red eyes did not recognize the large man as he approached, his steps light but full of purpose. The jackal lifted his gun immediately, an accustom reaction to a new presence.

            The steps grew heavier as the figure approached. The sun settled against his figure as the sand slowed its movement in the air. A saber tooth jutted from his mouth. His body was creation of muscle and obvious power. His one long brown mane was a short-crop of hairs. His wrists were wrapped in black armbands with spikes. His shoulders were covered in golden heads of a saber-tooth tiger. His fists were clenched, tightening muscles that were hard to see in the dark but were apparent by Thundera's bright, hovering sun.

            "Who... who goes there?" The fear in the jackal's voice was evident when he spoke. But his response, a deep laugh, quivered through his spine quicker than the fear. It burned against his brain like acid and his once control of his weapon seemed to be wavering as he tried to hold it steady, aiming for his target.

            The laughter stopped and dark brown eyes full of amusement settled into a blank stare, concentrating and drawing up energy. A small glowing light, deep red in color, radiated from his muscular structure. His fists grew tighter shut and a snarl curled his upper lip. He brought up his arm, elbow bent, and brought it down quicker than the change in the wind. His fist slammed into the ground and the land below quaked violently.

            A lava-fueled fire raged up from the sands, racing toward the jackal. His fear suspended him in motion and the flames devoured him. The lone figure stood back, laughing again before taking slow steps toward the others.

            Screams raced through the area as the other mutants dashed around, some thinking to attack while others trying to find the safety of the rocks around the area. Only laughter managed to break through the screams before explosions rocked the area.

            The dark sabre pulled one mutant up by his throat, holding him above his shoulders with a gleam in his eyes. He held out his other hand with his palm up, a ball of energy slowly building from the heat that swirled throughout the area. The mutant struggled against him, as his fingers grew tighter around the mutant's larynx, preventing him from squealing as his companions did.

            The dark stranger watched as another mutant, a reptile stepped up, holding his gun up fearlessly. He began to fire and as quick as the lasers cut through the dry air of the desert, the sabre yanked the mutant he was holding in front of him, using his body to take the brute of the beams. He chuckled again, tossing the limp body away before hurling the ball of pure fire energy at the mutant. The explosion ripped up more of the sand while leaving more than one mutant lying in immobile and lifeless in the sand.

            "By the moons of Plundarr, what is going on out here?" Ratar-O asked loudly as he emerged from the shadows of the shaft, Vultureman following with a wary expression.

            Ratar-O surveyed the area, observed the raging fires that consumed the lands and the lone sabre walking slowly toward them. He tried to concentrate on his next move as Vultureman cawed frightfully behind him. He clutched the box to his chest and moved quickly, dashing away from the shaft. He could hear the ramped footsteps of Vultureman following him, calling for him, but he had no mind to turn back and wait for the terrified mutant.

            A flash stopped Ratar-O, blinding him momentarily. He dug his feet into the sand and tried to regain his vision, blinking past pain to watch an agile figure flip through the air before landing in front of him. She was youthful; her short scarlet hair marked by a black stripe that ran down the middle of it. Her eyes were a vision of ruby and orange with a smile laced with intent. Ratar-O smiled back, undaunted by his new challenger.

            "Stand back wench or taste the blade of my sai," he warned, his lip curling while his eyes narrowed. She didn't move, only smiled harder. He watched as she adjusted the sole strap on her blue and pink outfit, one that barely covered her soft flesh. He tried to configure a pinpoint, an area to strike before quickly drawing one of his sais from his waist, lunging toward her. She moved aside just as quick but with less effort.

            Ratar-O tried to keep his balance as he swung back, his blade searching for flesh. Again, it only cut through air as the young feline leapt into the air. Her body spun in circles and Ratar-O was unprepared when she released several small marbles from her hands, each exploding once they came near. He rolled away, avoiding the destruction while cutting his own arm with his sai.

            "By the moons of Plundarr!"

            Ratar-O's voice echoed through the air as he squinted at the feline, her body lean as she knelt in the sand, a cunning smile on her lips. He tried to forget the pain, the sight of his own blood dying the sands of the desert a deep red. His fingers could barely hold his sai between them, but he managed to. He found the strength to stand when he heard Vultureman squawking and felt the wind as he ran past him.

            "Run, you idiot! Run!"

            Ratar-O continued to watch his opponent, her body still while her smile irremovable. He figured it safe to move, detecting that her attack was complete. He dashed through the sands, clutching the golden box tighter. He ran uninhibitedly, his fear now rising because of this unknown threat.

            Again, his steps were slowed when he got a clear view of another figure standing on a pile of rocks a few feet away. He slowed his feet, glared at the young male as he crossed his arms, his stance unmoved by the swirling winds. Only his hair, a mixture of orange and white that was parted by two black stripes, managed to shift with the current of the wind. He tilted his head up, his eyes emerging from the shadows that played over his face. His orange eyes squinted and he smiled a grin that was becoming familiar to Ratar-O.

            Ratar-O lifted his sai, using his failing strength to emit laser blasts from the eye in the hilt of the sword. The beams missed as the male leapt into the air, an nimbleness that was similar to the female Ratar-O had encountered seconds before. His body danced in the wind as he clenched his fist and then opened them, strong currents of the wind forming blades that were not completely visible to the bare eye. They cut the land before Ratar-O as he hopped back, trying to avoid the attack. He rolled again when another small bomb was thrown at him and tried to detour his route toward his ship. But he was too late. The young feline had concentrated his energy again and threw another air blade toward the ship, cutting it in half.

            "No!"

            Ratar-O stood in awe at the sight of his ship falling into two uneven pieces in the sand. He tried to drowned out the sounds of Vultureman's wailing while watching the curious male flip back onto his pile of rocks, a grin pushing the corners of his mouth upward. He fixed his brown, leather armbands before brushing fingers through his short hair, arching an eyebrow with a dare fixed into his expression.

            "You arrogant child. I will not die at your hands," Vultureman squealed, dashing toward the undaunted young feline.

            Ratar-O watched with wide eyes, never calling back for his cohort. He stared with fear at another figure appearing from the blaze, a smile on his lips. He lifted his hand without a thought, small red flares forming a circle, a ball of energy that he released freely at Vultureman. Those shrieks bled through Ratar-O's ears as Vultureman's body was burned away in seconds. He watched the ashes hover through the air, his eyes fixating on the newcomer.

            His skin was pale, almost white in the high sun. His hair was the blue of the sky, long bangs swaying back and forth as the wind moved. He too had a youth about him, his sharp eyes red with hollow black pupils. He wore a long, sleeveless red coat that had tails that danced with the wind. A sword was at his side, one that Ratar-O had seen only in paintings and drawings on walls.

            "Ratar-O, descendent of the great Ratilla, shall not meet his death by the hands of any of you," Ratar-O hissed, gathering his bravery while drawing up his sai. He listened to a challenging laugh before leaping forward, concentrating so that his sai might slice through flesh and draw blood upon contact. He was met in mid-movement by a red blast of energy shot from the hand of the newcomer, his eyes still bright with the laughter he had emitted before. Ratar-O's body fell with a thud and a final gasp of air; his eyes open as his death came over him.

            The laughter drew through the air again as the female stepped forward, opening the box and drawing out a golden armband. She slipped it over the hand of the pale man, watching as it naturally fastened itself to his wrist. It gleamed in the light of the sun and his smile grew larger.

            "Stupid mutant. Did you really think that you could stop me from getting a piece of the armor of Mumm-Ra the Everliving?"

            The pale man drew out his sword and watched flames engulf it. He swirled it around, drawing up the heat from the area before releasing a fiery blast that annihilated the remains of Ratar-O's airship. He snickered and leapt into the air, floating for moments with the power of the sword and the armband. His smirk never faded.

            The young, female feline glanced at her companions while stepping back. She formed a small smile on her lips before whispering, "Katil's even more powerful and he only has two pieces of the armor."

                                                                                    **

            Feet barely touched the ground, running on the air and almost through time itself. Only small bursts of air were left behind each time she passed. Feet were guided on a search that kept her running rather than trying a more logical approach to finding what she was looking for. But she kept moving.

            It was hard for her to see the faces, but her eyes kept moving. They were mostly a blur of adults, women, men, and children. Just her fellow Thunderians passed in the blaze and if she only knew what she was looking for, she'd take a moment to stop and memorize some of the faces. But she didn't know what she who she was looking for, what would draw her to this man that was hidden by shadows in her mind.

            She stopped for a moment, trying to gather her strength. She caught the looks she received from others, others that had not seen her there just seconds before. How could they? Her race was a master of speed and she was one of the rare ones that ran so fast that many only caught the blur or something passing, if that.

            Her head hung low, her body bent forward with her hands on her knees. She swallowed hard, looking around. She glanced back over her shoulder, caught them drawing closer. She knew they were following her, not as quick as her, but a bit more knowledgeable of the quick access streets and tunnels that got them around the city. They were cloaked, hiding themselves from the Thunderians because if any, from the smallest to the oldest, spotted this group of mutants, chaos would ensue.

            She took in a few more breaths and tried to concentrate. She refused to give in. She would willingly sacrifice her life in the middle of the streets rather than be captured by them, taken back to a man that not only haunted her visions, but her soul.

            When she could hear their footsteps, she moved. She leapt into the air, tucking her body as she flipped before closing her eyes. She listened to the way the wind took her before unfolding her body, letting her feet land against one of the poles erected on either side of the street. She bounced off of the pole, using the leverage to hurl her body feet first into one of the mutants' chest, knocking him down. She leapt up again, dodging a jackal as he tried to grab her. She flipped over him, ducking a punch from the mutant behind her. She sideswiped him with her foot, knocking him over and onto the fallen mutant.

            "Come here fast one," a monkey hooted, latching his fingers into her hair. She growled, resisting. He dragged her back and she could see the blade he was beginning to raise. She wasn't sure if she was really willing to give up her life if it meant the end of the world she loved so much.

            The eyes of the street began to look, some screaming in horror while others looked ready to help. She knew if anyone interfered, they would be killed. None of the Thunderians there were ready for this group of mutants. Not unless they were trained properly.

            "It would really be a shame if you were to hurt any hair on that young woman's head."

            The voice came from the shadows and she struggled to look and see who dared to make the first attempt to save her. She narrowed her eyes, focusing as a man younger than her emerged from the splashes of black and gray that were brought upon the night's sky and the lights of the street. His hair was a crimson red, a wild mane of scarlet. His muscles flexed under fair skin, eyes deprived of intimidation. He clenched his fists, hands wrapped in black gloves with shredded leather armbands running up to the middle of his forearm. Black covered his body, his upper arms bare.

            "It would be a shame if we left your head in the middle of the street for these miserable Thunderians to mourn over," hissed one of the reptilians, pulling out his dagger.

            An eyebrow arched with a stern expression before a smile pulled at lips and drew out a snicker. "Now that wasn't very nice."

            The cheetah tried to struggle against the forearm that was pushing against her throat, holding her in place. She could do nothing but watch. She glared as one of the monkeys dashed toward the young lion. His fleet feet lifted him into the air, a foot landing against the monkey's jaw, sending him to the ground. She awed at the way he ducked a blade and leapt over another mutant, arms reaching down and grabbing the dark cloak that hid the mutant's identity. He used his strength and flipped the reptilian, throwing the mutant into a nearby wall while landing on his feet.

            "Ooh, ooh; kill him," the monkey that held her captivated grunted out. She closed her eyes as the lion tossed another mutant into a nearby glass window. She took in a deep breath and jerked forward, flipping the monkey off of her. She did not look to see whether he landed on his feet. She turned quickly and began her dash again, leaving the scene before a word could be uttered.

            "Now what about all that talk about my head being left in the street?" The lion ducked each swipe of the blade from the reptile, smiling slightly. He leapt backward, his foot catching the reptile in the chin. He landed one knee on the ground with a grin as the mutant soared backward and onto the ground. The dagger fell from the mutant's hand, a small drop of blood sliding from his lip down to the ground below.

            The young lion brushed the dust from his arm as the mutants quickly regrouped and dashed from the streets, leaping into a nearby tunnel. He sighed and glanced around, a few of the onlookers beginning to gather. He wasn't looking for recognition or praise for his efforts. It wasn't in his character.

            "Where'd she..." He glanced around quickly, looking for the cheetah he attempted to rescue. He did not make it an effort to save anyone, but when he did, he did not know them to run away.

            "Great job buddy."

            He ignored the acclaim and focused. Since a child, he'd been able to sense things, find those he was looking for with a familiar smell. He could still taste the sweat from her brow against the tip of his tongue even though he had never touched her. It was just a natural tracking ability he had that aided him when sensing danger.

            He sniffed around quickly, ignoring any stares he got from the streetwalkers. He tried to follow her scent in the air. It was faint, almost nonexistent. Most cheetahs of that speed were like that. Quick, leaving a small trace that most Thunderians could not follow without some kind of mechanical device. But he didn't need any special tool to find what he was looking for. He smiled to himself when he figured out a direction and began to quick run toward his destination.

                                                                                    **

            The Great Hall was a structure of a grand design. It was an artistic sight for many to look at; one that was visited daily by the inhabitants of Thundera. It housed a shrine to Jaga and the Thundercats made of ivory and stone. A glass case in one corner of the long building held a replica of the Book of Omens, one of the most prized articles belonging to the Thundercats. It was lost sometime during the war with Mumm-Ra, never recovered. The Great Hall was a place where diplomats met to discuss the growth of the city and an educational front for the children to learn much of the history of the world that was once nothing but serenity and peace.

            The Great Hall housed a celebration this night. Generals, warriors, noblemen, elder Thunderians, ambassadors from nearby planets, dignitaries, and others all gathered to celebrate another decade of peace. They gathered, laughed, conversed about the government and the culture that was growing throughout the lands. All but one sole Siberian tiger who stood to the side. He observed, listened to their conversations with a mindful eye and tentative ears. He felt more than out of place in this gathering of greats. Who was he to any of them? He could hear some of their whispers, women directing their mates to the fact that he was but a blacksmith, a young tiger in the midst of higher Thunderians. He was unclear why he'd agreed to attend the celebration?

            He was Bengali, a tiger with a dream but without the means to reach it. He glanced to his left, watching the elder lynx that stood with him carry a conversation with another lynx, a general of some sort. He smiled to himself, remembering that Lynx-O had requested he accompany him to the Great Hall for this celebration. Bengali was respectful, unable to create a reason not to follow the old lynx to the celebration. Lynx-O was wise beyond his greatness, a name that was revered by many. A former warrior, blinded in battle, forever forced to only offer words of wisdom rather than continue his position with the army of Thundera.

            Bengali sighed and held up his cup, swirling around the contents inside. He thought to drink it but couldn't. He watched while a few Roberberbils passed by, carrying conversation in an automated form that was sometimes hard for him to understand. He ran his fingers over the azure stripes on his arm, exhaling lowly while trying to look entertained by his surroundings.

            "Lynx-O, it's good to see you here."

            Bengali raised his head and turned, watching as a tiger approached Lynx-O. He narrowed his eyes, trying to remember the face. Was he not a warrior, or once was? A proud tiger that was the topic of much discussion around the villages? His stature was boastful, his smirk painting a picture of arrogance in its simplest form.

            "That voice. Why, it could not belong to anyone other than Tygra," Lynx-O grinned, speckled black ears raising reaching a hand out. It was grabbed by Tygra, held proudly.

            "None other than the great Tygra," Tygra conceded with a healthy laugh. The two laughed together while Bengali looked on unimpressed. He took a quick sip of his wine and kept his attention focused on the words exchanged between Tygra and Lynx-O.

            "I hear that you're training Thunderians to be warriors now. Teaching them the art of combat at your age Lynx-O?" Tygra inquired, still holding Lynx-O's hand. Lynx-O drew it back with a smile, heading turning as if to look for something. Bengali stood attentive, ready to help if Lynx-O called.

            "Why, yes, I am. In fact," Lynx-O replied, finally turning his head in Bengali's direction, "I'd like you to meet one of my young pupils."

            Bengali stepped forward quickly when Lynx-O's hand raised. He allowed Lynx-O to rest the hand on his shoulder, trying to look proud yet humbled. He offered a smile for Tygra, one that was returned with curiosity wrapped in it.

            "Tygra, I would like you to meet Bengali," Lynx-O spoke up, his introduction met with a welcoming hand from Tygra. Bengali shook it without question.

            "It's good to meet a brethren who is under the guidance of such a dignified warrior such as Lynx-O," Tygra said, shaking Bengali's hand. Bengali drew his hand back with a nod, unsure of what words would raise Tygra's approval for him.

            "I am honored to meet a warrior such as yourself, just as I am honored and humbled to be under the tutelage of a wise teacher like Lynx-O," Bengali finally spoke, voice carrying the winds of esteem. He again nodded in Tygra's direction as Tygra raised his cup, tipping it toward Bengali. He knew it was a sign of appreciation and hoped it would ease some of the barriers he already drew up.

            "I don't know if I can still call myself a warrior for I have not seen battle in years, but the gesture is appreciated," Tygra spoke before sipping his wine.

            Bengali nodded, his eyes slipping from Tygra's face for a moment. He glanced over the tiger's shoulder, toward an image that felt more pleasing. He watched as a young puma took graceful steps behind Tygra. He held his concentration on her as she lifted a pale hand, drawing it through brown locks of hair before toying with the ivory ends, settling into a comfortable stance. She brushed the back of her hand against her cheek before lowering it, letting it drop against a brown dress.

            She must have caught Bengali's stare on her because her eyes were now on him. Her lips formed a frown and she lowered her brow, discouraged by his look. He quickly pulled his blue eyes from her, only watching from the corner of them as she walked away. He groaned internally, cursing the skies of Thundera for being so obvious in his adoration of her beauty.

            Bengali lost focus on the feline when his eyes caught another flash behind Tygra, the wind that followed her unsettling the hairs on the back of his neck. He watched as she bumped into a large lion, her body bouncing back and off balance.

            "Whoa, watch it," the lion growled, swiftly turning around.

            Bengali glanced upon the panting cheetah, her face a mirror of confusion. She pushed back her spotted blonde mane and regained composure. He cleared his throat quietly when Tygra turned also, Lynx-O's head shifting slightly to follow the pattern of the noise.

            "I'm sorry, I just..."

            Her others words never made it above the sound of shattering glass. The sound of a scream, a few gasps echoed through the hall as a mutant, one known throughout Thundera as Monkian, stepped into the hall. Gasps broke out through the area, fearful Thunderians taking steps backward while others searched for an exit.

            Monkian grinned, rolling a tongue over his lips while twirling a bladed staff in his hand. His white fur moved slightly as he took heavy steps toward the object of his mission. He eyed the cheetah trembling a few feet away, red eyes glazed with accomplishment and fearlessness.

            "If it's a fight he wants," Bengali growled lowly, setting aside his cup before walking forward. A hand snatched his arm and pulled him back, causing his head to jerk around violently with question. He scrunched his nose and squinted his eyes at Tygra, the tiger's firm grip on his bicep painful but not unbearable.

            "No Bengali, please, let me," Tygra requested, a face of wisdom and honesty.

            Bengali did not want to back down. He wanted to prove himself. But something in the way Lynx-O listened attentively with a face of concern prevented him from breaking free of Tygra's grip and dashing into battle. He took a step back graciously and signaled toward Tygra to proceed. He caught the thank you in the tiger's stare, eyes speaking words he was too proud to say. Bengali rotated his shoulder and watched, studied Tygra as he moved toward Monkian.

            "Ook, you challenge me?" Monkian's question was dripped with sarcasm dressed in pride.

            "Coming here was an unwise decision mutant," Tygra retorted, still walking valiantly toward Monkian. He followed the motion of the staff in Monkian's hand, timing his meter and position.

            "Challenging me is even unwise," Monkian countered before raising his staff. He swung with might, the blade just barely missing Tygra as he flipped to the side. He ran at Monkian, fist drawn back. Monkian lifted the staff again, the wood catching Tygra's foot as he hurdled into the air. Tygra came down to the ground with a crash, rolling away before Monkian's blade could meet with his flesh.

            The clatter of the metal against the stone of the ground echoed as Tygra flipped to his feet, fist lunging and making contact with Monkian's side. Monkian grunted but quickly countered with an elbow to Tygra's jaw, sending the tiger back.

            Tygra panted, thought of his next move while Monkian stood erect again. He did not remember any of the mutants being so quick or accurate. Something was definitely different about Monkian, more advanced. He wiped away the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand before running again, jumping upward and bringing his force down with his feet.

            Monkian backed away and yanked up his staff for another attack. Tygra landed on his feet and rolled forward, dodging another swing of Monkian's blade. He leapt backward into the air, trusting faith while using his eyes to pinpoint Monkian's position on the ground. He managed to grab Monkian by the shoulders and drive his knees into the mutant's back, causing Monkian to scamper forward in pain. But Monkian's retreat didn't last long and his blade came backward, Monkian's aim controlled by glancing over his shoulder. Tygra was quick, the edge of the blade barely missing his arm but managing to cut away the fabric on the sleeve of his shirt. He took a few unguided steps backward in disbelief.

            "What's the matter Thunderian? Can you not capture me so easily?" Monkian questioned, turning to Tygra.

            Tygra restrained his anger, sprinting forward. He ran past Monkian's side, avoiding another swipe of the staff but Monkian's speed countered the mistake and he slide the staff between his fingers, the blunt end of it ramming into Tygra's ribs. Tygra rolled forward on the ground until he was on bended knee, gripping his chest with one arm while his other hand laid flat against the cold stone below him. He looked up, Monkian but inches away with his staff raised, ready to behead him without thought.

            The sound of a crack unsettled Tygra. He watched as a male lion kicked the staff from Monkian's hands, leaping past Tygra as the staff slid across the ground. Tygra scuttled back with wide eyes as the lion smiled proudly at Monkian.

            "How dare you?!"

            Monkian quickly ran for his staff as the lion roared, flipping forward into the air and landed behind Monkian. Monkian yanked up the staff and swung back. The staff made no contact with the lion as he jumped up, coming down with his feet slamming into Monkian's hand; bones cracking like thunder over the land. Monkian bellowed in pain but refused to drop the staff, his other hand grabbing it and swinging again. Each swing missed as the lion leapt back from the attack.

            Monkian snarled with anger. He panted hard while eyeing the lion jump once more, landing behind him. He pulled his strength together and whirled his staff around once more. The lion watched the blade in the wind and jumped, kicking the staff so that it revolved backward, the blade catching Monkian in the chest.

            Gasps fluttered through the room as Monkian fell slowly backward, his eyes rolling back with his own weapon bringing him to death. Cheers broke out as the young lion took a moment to regain his breath, dragging his fingers through his red mane. He looked around as again Thunderians swarmed him, congratulating him.

            "How dare you enter the battle that was between myself and that wretched mutant," Tygra questioned, pulling the lion around by his shoulder while still holding tightly to his injured ribs. The lion glared at him with a raised eyebrow.

            "Tygra, he saved your life," Bengali responded, confused by Tygra's anger. Maybe his pride was too much to be thankful for being spared an unnecessary death?

            "I do not care Bengali," Tygra growled, eyes still burning as they looked upon the lion. "Who are you?"

            The lion ran a slow tongue over his bottom lip. He gave an untrustworthy glare to Tygra, breathing heavy. "Not that I owe you any explanation, but the name's Lion-O."

            "Well, Lion-O..."

           

            "It's you; it is you I am looking for."

            Tygra turned his head with a scowl, his expression softening when the cheetah from before walked forward. He stepped aside, letting her stand before Lion-O with wide eyes of relief. In his mind he questioned her words and excitement, but held his tongue to observe.

            "You.. You’re the one I helped out in the streets," Lion-O noted with a lowered brow. He had tracked her to the Great Hall. He was only there to figure out the mystery of this cheetah.

            "Yes, I am Cheetara. I've come here in search of a great fighter, of a fighter they talk about in villages and the cities. The one that isn't looking for glory, just the good of defeating evil and helping others," Cheetara gushed, laying a hand on Lion-O's shoulder with bright eyes. It was as if she'd found the final ending to a dream she had for years. But it almost was, for her.

            "And I'm that fighter?" Lion-O inquired with a doubtful glare. He felt uneasy with the stares of many of him while this cheetah, Cheetara, boasted of his efforts to help others.

            "Yes, you are. Please, I need your help to stop an evil that could destroy all of Thundera," Cheetara pleaded, her hand roaming down Lion-O's arm until she could grasp his glove-covered hand. She squeezed it tightly, the desperation in her eyes more than just a sentiment.

            Lion-O stood in awe at her sudden need. He knew there wasn't much to consider. Thundera was his home, the place he'd fought so hard to keep safe. The planet he was born on, though he knew nothing of his past. He only knew of being enslaved by mutants, being forced to help create structures in the glory of Mumm-Ra. He could remember escaping, running for days in fear of being captured again. He could still taste the tears against his cheek as he swore to protect Thundera from the mutants and to fight until was he destroyed. He would never be a slave again.

            "All right, I will help you," Lion-O finally agreed, his expression easing into a compassionate one.

            "You will?" Cheetara gasped with glee.

            "Hold on, if any fighter is going to be on this mission to save Thundera, I should at least be included," Tygra interjected with a grin. He stepped forward, eyes remaining on Cheetara rather than Lion-O.

            "And you shall not be alone," Bengali said, walking forward with Lynx-O by his side.

            "If there is a need for a fighter, then I'd be willing to offer my assistance and knowledge of medicine."

            Heads turned as the female puma from earlier strolled forward, a look of seriousness jading any stares of disbelief. Bengali smiled, tilting his head slightly to garnish a better view of the feline.

            "And you are?" Tygra wondered, scratching at his chin.

            "Pumyra," she replied before turning her eyes on Cheetara, "And I'd willingly help if it meant protecting this world."

            "All of you? All of you would be willing to help?" Cheetara questioned with a raised voice of joy. She squeezed Lion-O's hand harder and tried to control her emotions.

            "Looks like you've got a group of volunteers ready and willing to help," Lion-O smiled, looking over the others. He didn't know what to expect from this desperate cheetah. He worried about the proud tiger, the young Siberian, the blind lynx, and the mysterious puma. He was unsure of what the coming battle was and what role any of them would play.

                                                                                    **

            A hand rested against glass while eyes looked out upon the planet she never had a chance to cherish. She sighed, remembering little of her past. She knew of her name, Wily Kit. She knew the ancient sorcerer Mumm-Ra raised her. Stolen as a cub, she and her twin brother, Wily Kat, were forced into suspension capsules whose technology had been altered to increase age rather than still it.

            In some ways, she still felt like a child. But her physical maturity was there. So were the powers that the Ancient Spirits of Evil ignited within her, her brother, and the ruthless sabre tooth warrior Grune. It was something she just couldn't escape.

            Slithe, what news do you bring me?”

            Wily Kit turned her head, hiding the sadness as she watched the reptilian approach. She followed him as he approached Katil, his lithe body sitting on a throne at the front of the room. Next to him sat a large beast, one that could have been considered a dog, a pet, but much more ruthless. She stepped away from the window and closer to Katil, eyes quickly glancing at her brother leaned up against one of the gold columns in the room and Grune smiling across from Wily Kat.

            "Master, I have been informed that Monkian hasss been killed in combat with a Thunderian while trying to recapture Cheetara," Slithe hissed, bowing his head when he finally stopped in front of Katil.

            "We should have killed off those bumbling mutants when we killed off the Lunatacs," Wily Kat remarked, adjusting the leather band around his wrist.

            "By the moons of Plundarr, how dare you?" Slithe hissed loudly.

            "Oh, please, you mutants have been as useful to us as a group of insects. I think destroying you mutants off would have been a lot more fun rather than killing those groveling Lunatacs, Plundarr's so-called greatest warriors," Wily Kat gushed, eyes round with pleasure as he looked upon Slithe. Grune chuckled from across him, shaking his head while rubbing his knuckles.

            "You dare," Slithe grumbled, wild eyes glaring at the young feline.

            "Enough already," Katil sighed, waving his hand around. The attention quickly fell on him as he lowered his hand, letting it rest on the creature sitting next to his throne. He pet delicate fingers against the rough blue skin of his pet, eyes wandering around the room as his followers.

            "I am not concerned about Monkian or his demise. Our concentration must be on getting the final three pieces of the armor of Mumm-Ra and regaining Cheetara. Without her, it will be a foolish search for the final piece. We must seek out the pieces and Cheetara and then prepare to take over all of Thundera," Katil insisted, raising his hand again before gripping his fingers shut into a fist. The others only nodded.

                                                                                    **

            Lion-O felt uncomfortable walking through the ruins of a temple that once sent shivers through the vertebrae of thousands. He felt a wind gush over the back of his neck, one that felt tainted with evil. He glanced around, trying to peer down dark, shadowy corridors that probably led to even more malevolence. He swallowed back with disgust and continued to follow the small light Cheetara carried as she led them through the Onyx Pyramid.

            "This pyramid has been off limits to any Thunderian or outsider since Mumm-Ra's demise. It was thought that the powers that Mumm-Ra controlled were still buried alive within the walls, waiting to possess anyone that dared walked through here," Cheetara spoke, running the light over different inscriptions in the bricks of the walkway.

            "But there isn't much to fear now? This pyramid was practically destroyed by any Thunderian who could get close enough years ago," Tygra remarked, keeping his arms close by his side.

            "Foolish countrymen who thought they could destroy the power of a demon by destroying the stone he dwelled behind," Lynx-O chided, holding onto Bengali's arm as he guided them through the shadows.

            "Unfortunately, Lynx-O is right. Mumm-Ra's true power did not exist behind the walls of his pyramid. What we Thunderians did not know is that the evil spirits that created Mumm-Ra put all of his real power into the pieces of armor he wore and the Sword of Plundarr. With his two golden bracelets, the twin blades of the Sword of Plundarr and his crown, Mumm-Ra was almost invisible to everyone except Mumm-Rana," Cheetara explained, stopping in the center of a dark room, holding up the light to the others.

            "But surely Mumm-Rana had to know about the power in his armor. After all, wasn't she the same as he was?" Bengali inquired.

            "Yes, and that is why she entrusted only a few to spread his armor across Thundera before she died. She knew that if anyone else was to wear that armor, he or she would control the evil power that Mumm-Ra once held," Cheetara replied, carrying the light to a nearby wall. She ran her fingers over the rough surface, searching for something. When she found it, she pressed in, a light beaming down from the top of the ceiling, providing proper glow for everyone to see with.

            "You mean the myth about Mumm-Ra's armor is true? I thought it was just an old tale from village to village used to scare the children?" Pumyra questioned, crossing her arms over her chest.

            "I'm surprised the three of you were even old enough to remember anything concerning the war with Mumm-Ra," Tygra scoffed.

            "I was old enough to remember my mother dying in that war," Bengali growled, eyes narrowing at Tygra with conviction. Tygra remained silent, leaning against one of the walls.

            "So what does all of this have to do with us?" Lion-O asked, eyes wandering around the room to look at the paintings and inscriptions along the walls.

            "Mumm-Ra was controlled by higher beings, ones that had one goal. They wanted to destroy the goodness of the world, control planets with their evil. That goal was disrupted by the defeat of Mumm-Ra, but the attempt never died," Cheetara explained.

            "So you're saying they are trying to use another body to host that power?" Lynx-O questioned Cheetara, gripping Bengali's arm a little tighter with concern.

            "They've gone past trying, Lynx-O. A being by the name of Katil has been waiting years to seek out the power that was promised to him while Mumm-Ra was still in power here in Thundera. But he was still young then and the Ancient Spirits of Evil felt he was unready. Upon Mumm-Ra's death, the spirits knew they would need a more able being to hunt for the armor," Cheetara clarified while running her fingers over a few of the paintings.

            "Enter Katil," Tygra noted, leaning off the wall as a speckle of dust fell onto his shoulder. He quickly brushed it off, turning his nose up with distaste written in his expression.

            "Katil is something that is much more cunning, much more devious than I think any Thunderian has seen since Mumm-Ra. And his youth and growing power only makes it seem more and more impossible to stop him," Cheetara exclaimed, silencing tears that rested against her eyelids. Her fear could not be more apparent to the others.

            "Cheetara, how is it that you know all of this and none one else does?" Lion-O curiously asked, staring at her as she continued to trace the patterns on the wall.

            "I... I was a prisoner of Katil's," Cheetara replied softly, eyes looking down at the floor with shame. "A small portion of my race has the ability to see things, if you will. A sixth sense that allows us to sometimes see visions of the past, the present, even the future if our power is great enough. Katil captured me because no one is sure where the final piece of Mumm-Ra's armor is. He tried to use me to find it and I came close, but refused to dig deep enough to give him the ultimate power and the ultimate doom for Thundera."

            Lion-O laid his hand on her shoulder, a comforting gesture that he hoped would ease her slight shivers. Cheetara sighed and looked up again, striving to smile for Lion-O. It was difficult, but his smoothing hand helped.

            "So how do we find these pieces of the armor, get to them before Katil?" Tygra asked, his appearance daunted by the closeness of Lion-O and Cheetara.

            "Katil has already been successful in finding two of the pieces. He has one half of the Sword of Plundarr and one of the armbands. We can reach the other three pieces, but finding them is not so easy," Cheetara explained, stepping into the middle of the room.

            "Searching an entire planet for three pieces of an ancient armor of evil hardly sounds like anything resembling easy," Bengali insisted. He could sense Pumyra's judging brown eyes on him and he tried to avoid them. He closed his own and tried to remember the patience Lynx-O had taught him through his training.

            "Not easy, but possible. The Ancient Spirits of Evil might have given Katil and his followers the powers they need to succeed in combat, but he did not give any of them the knowledge they need to transcribe the writings on the walls in this room," Cheetara smiled. She watched as the others glanced around, some trying to piece together the images while others tried to formulate a plan.

            "This is going to take work," Bengali sighed, lightly punching one of the bricks.

            "But we can do it. I say we spend awhile in here trying to put together what we can and then begin our hunt. We can search out Katil and his forces while still trying to find the missing pieces," Tygra boasted, stepping into the center of the room where Cheetara stood. He smiled at her with a glint in his eye.

            "No, I'm sorry Tygra, but that won't work. I escaped Katil in search of one man and that was Lion-O. He should lead us," Cheetara countered, unimpressed by Tygra's approach. She stepped back while he scowled. She turned her eyes to Lion-O, losing some of her distain to look upon the young, quiet lion.

            "I agree. I sense great power in Lion-O and believe that he is deservedly the one that should lead us through this endeavor," Lynx-O concurred. Bengali and Pumyra remained silent, merely listening with patience.

            "Well, I think we should split up. Bengali, Pumyra, Lynx-O... you three should try to figure out some of these inscriptions and head from there. We can handle the rest. It would be easier for two teams to find the two known pieces before we try to take on Katil or look for the final piece of the armor," Lion-O advised, his voice exerting a small fragment of confidence in his own words. He watched the nods slowly, waiting for accord from each of his companions. He eyed Tygra, the proud tiger staring at the ground with clenched fists. He waited while Tygra lifted his head, eyes still filled with discouragement. He finally nodded, exhaling heavily.

            "Good, we'll take just a little while in here before heading our separate ways," Cheetara chimed, turning to Lion-O. "And there is someone I think you should see. Someone who I think could help us figure out a few things about your past, Lion-O."

            Lion-O raised his brow, curious. Even he knew nothing of his heritage, his bloodline. He earliest memory was that of being a slave and nothing else. Never knowing his mother or his father. He could feel that this crusade was becoming more than just an effort to save Thundera. Maybe it was a chance to save himself?

                                                                                    **

            The sun was falling, leaving streaks of orange and pink across pieces Thundera's sky. Lion-O stared up with steady eyes, gathering his thoughts. He was seated on a fallen obelisk, patiently waiting outside of the Onyx Pyramid. He ran a quick hand through his crimson hair and sighed.

            The flashes still ran through his mind. He could sometimes still feel the sting against his back, old scars from a whip still visible to him. He could feel the callus of his hands when he ran them over his face, years of lifting rocks and moving dirt and sand. The battles he had fought, mutants he had defeated still were just blurs in his mind. Too many for him to remember every detail, but just enough to remind him that his life would be nothing more than fighting to achieve something.

            "It must be difficult to deal with all of this," Cheetara spoke up from behind him, taking light and quiet steps toward the brooding lion.

            "No more difficult than anything else that has happened in my life," Lion-O replied, glancing over his shoulder to view her. He watched the wind lift strands of her spotted hair. She was calm in her sway and he wondered how she could suffer for so long to become so gentle?

            "I mean, I know it is hard to take it all in. I'm not expecting any of you to just eagerly run into a battle you know little of, but I have faith that this is a fight we can win," Cheetara said with a zeal in her voice. She stood in front of Lion-O and smiled, hope dancing in her quiet eyes.

            Lion-O managed to smile back at her, his doubts hiding somewhere between his need to help and his courage to face any battle. His eyes darkened a little when Cheetara cringed, her hand quickly holding her head while her eyes shut tightly. He quickly rose from the obelisk with fear as she wobbled backward. He took in a sharp breath and grabbed her arm, holding her steady as her body bowed forward.

            "Cheetara," he called, his other arm slipping behind her back.

            "It's... it's okay. I just had a vision, that's all," Cheetara breathed out, her head hung low as she took quick breaths.

            "About what?"

            "Lion-O? Cheetara?"

            Lion-O turned his head briskly when he saw Tygra approaching, mystery in his expression. He looked back at Cheetara as she began to stand erect again, still holding her head in her hand. He kept his arm around her back while his other cupped her elbow trying to help her stand. She lowered her hand and smiled at Lion-O, a few strands of hair falling over her eye.

            "I'm all right," she whispered, patting his arm.

            "We've found out that one of the pieces is being guarded the samurai warrior Hachiman in a distant land here on Thundera," Tygra said, ceasing his walk once he reached Cheetara and Lion-O. He watched them slowly drift apart with veiled expressions. His eyes peered at Lion-O for a moment, unsure of his thoughts.

            "Good. Katil has not found that piece yet," Cheetara said with a soft grin on her ruby lips. She pushed back those loose strands of hair and glanced from Lion-O to Tygra. She could feel the tension in the stare Tygra was unconsciously giving Lion-O. He was almost projecting thoughts that she could read somewhere in the haze between them.

            "How can you be so sure?" Tygra wondered, drawing his gaze from Lion-O to her.

            "Because my sixth sense, as of late, has been able to let me see more than just visions. Since being around Katil and that first piece that he attained, I've been able to sense every time he gets another piece. It's as if his power is projected into the atmosphere and I am drawn right to the feeling," Cheetara explained, sliding her left hand up her right arm. She flinched slightly, eyes looking down again. It was nothing she felt proud of. Her connection with Katil frightened her, made her efforts more valued because she wanted to escape that bond.

            "Is that what your vision was what about?" Lion-O asked with an eagerness.

            "Oh... no," Cheetara replied quickly, turning her head and leaving Lion-O to wonder about her mystery.

            "Well, I think I know of someone who might be able to help us in this coming battle," Tygra spoke up, again interrupting the tension he felt between Lion-O and Cheetara. He quirked an eyebrow while watching Lion-O slowly turn his head to him, still lost in some thoughts.

            "Right. Cheetara and me will head out in search of the piece that is guarded by Hachiman then," Lion-O concurred, trying to find focus in his mission. He received nods from Tygra and Cheetara, his solemnest fading as he found favor with his thoughts of defending Thundera.

                                                                                    **

            A new day was the coming of purpose. Bengali felt that as he walked next to Lynx-O. The sun was sitting at its highest point, beaming down feathered rays of light through the branches of the trees that stood tall over them. He took in a quick breath, inhaling the fresh scent of the river that flowed nearby. His blue eyes settled on the sight of Pumyra balancing herself masterfully on a fallen tree nearby.

            "I'm not quite familiar with the teachings of your race. I've only heard the stories of pumas being more of traveling mystics rather than warriors," Bengali stated, still watching Pumyra as she carefully moved one foot in front of the other on the large tree.

            "You should not listen to stories," Pumyra warned, her tone less than friendly. She held her arms out to either side and concentrated as she moved.

            "But I have never seen any one puma stay in one place long," Bengali countered, discouraged by her unwelcoming demeanor.

            "Why should we? All of Thundera cannot be helped if we are sitting one place that does not need us as much as another," Pumyra responded, keeping her eyes forward. She did not look down, letting her body focus without fearing of making a mistake.

            "And your race finds solace in that? How are families raised? How do you find love?" Bengali inquired, his mind drifting more to her beauty rather than her art form. Her agile body bent forward and she did a handstand across the tree, feet landing in perfect position when she stood straight again. She returned immediately to her former stance and continued her walk, Bengali's eyes finding it impossible to focus on the calling birds or the sun that was breaking through and shining into his eyes.

            "I am not here to search for love, Bengali. My people are here to assist others when we can," Pumyra replied, breaking her concentration to turn her head to him. She scowled, catching him off guard. "As for family, I have made it through this life only seeing my parents and siblings once in awhile and it has not hurt my spirit."

            "And that's the warrior ways you've been taught," Bengali grumbled, quickening his pace.

            "It has nothing to do with my combat training," Pumyra hissed back, returning her head to its previous position. She was losing focus and her steps were beginning to wobble. She gripped her fists together and sighed, trying to find her concentration again.

            "Your race would rather train a female than a male in the ways of fighting so that she might not ever find that meaning of love and family," Bengali growled lowly, taking his eyes from her.

            Pumyra jumped from the tree, her body twisting and turning like a falling bird in the air. She landed in front of Bengali, halting his walk. He stepped back with surprise while she held a finger up to him in anger. She wrinkled her brow before hissing, "Do not tell me I do not know the definition of love or family. I may be a skilled fighter, but I am not deprived of that need to be with someone or find peace within my soul, Bengali. I do not need a lonely blacksmith trying to assume the ways of my race or my own beliefs."

            Bengali was astonished by the anger in her voice, the way it dropped a little with pain. He thought to apologize, seek understanding in her now hardened brown eyes. But he couldn't. His pride was not standing in the way, but hers was.

            "Both of you, end this now," Lynx-O demanded. Bengali and Pumyra quickly turned their heads to the elder lynx. "We Thunderians are not here to make war with each other. We are a planet of people who follow one law, a law that was upheld by the Thundercats. Without unity, we will be nothing to Katil and his minion."

            Pumyra quietly took a step back from Bengali, her head down. Her shame had taken the focus from her anger and she merely sighed and turned away from Bengali. She waited for Bengali and Lynx-O to move before finding a position next to Lynx-O, walking silently through the forest.

            The shadows of the forest hid much, including a pair of red eyes that stared at the three Thunderians as they walked. A soft growl came from the beast hiding in the protection of large emerald-green bushes. The beast took quiet steps in the opposite direction, spying them as he moved away. He was sent on another mission and attacking the Thunderians would only anger his master.

                                                                                    **

            “So Cheetara and this Lion-O are headed to find the Hachiman and one of the pieces while the three Thunderians are headed toward one of the cities in search of the other piece?” Katil's voice was thick with intrigue as he looked upon Wily Kit, her head bowed as she listened.

            "Yes Master Katil. Grune is en route to the direction Cheetara and Lion-O are headed in while Wily Kat is following the path Ma-Mutt has given him to find the three traveling Thunderians," Wily Kit responded without restraint.

            Katil laughed lowly, running his fingers over the golden armband on his wrist. He admired its shine with lidded eyes while speaking. "Then I will go to where Grune is so that I can meet the Thunderian that killed Monkian."

            Wily Kit looked up with astonishment. She had not known Katil to willingly head into a confrontation he knew his other warriors could handle. She took a quick step forward.

            "Master Katil, Grune is already heading to take care of Lion-O, capture Cheetara and get the next piece of armor. There is no need for you to go," she insisted.

            "I know, but I am intrigued by this Lion-O. The Monkian might have only been endowed with a speckle of the power that you, your brother, and Grune have been given, but to defeat him in such a manner has me curious to see this Thunderian's true power," Katil replied, keeping his eyes on the armband. It was hard for him to look away, the sheer power enrapturing him. "Besides, I can sense Cheetara's trust in this Thunderian goes past the fact that he saved her. I can feel her affection for him."

            Wily Kit raised her brow, her surprise growing. She did not know how he could feel it, how he knew the things he did. It had to be the armor and the power it was releasing. His strength was growing, but Wily Kit could feel that his attachment to the power and the supremacy the armor was giving him was more dangerous.

                                                                                    **

            The night settled into a warm breeze against Lion-O's neck. He found his peace in a walk with Cheetara, exploring a city he had never visited before. There wasn't much of Thundera he hadn't explored during his life. Life without a home always meant finding someplace to exist. He often existed in cities and villages he never truly planned to stay long in. It was his need to never feel connected.

            "Do you think we should stop for the night," Lion-O inquired, turning his head to the quiet cheetah. She turned her head with a smile, shaking her head.

            "We don't have to if you think it's best we not," she smiled out, brushing fingers through her soft hair. She found it difficult to be concerned about their exhaustion when walking near Lion-O.

            "Okay, but..."

            Lion-O's words were only a backdrop to he scream that rang through Cheetara and Lion-O as they walked. They both turned their attention to the direction of the shriek, not hesitating to run toward the noise. Cheetara reached their destination first, stopping immediately with a quick gasp. She threw her hand over her mouth and felt everything inside of her shift.

            In the midst of the street stood Grune, the broken lights of the street shining on his muscular form. Cheetara quivered, watching him hold up a young, struggling Intergalactic Control Force officer by the throat. Near his feet laid two more officers. Cheetara sensed no life left in them, but she had no time to mourn them as Thunderians scattered in utter panic.

            Grune smiled at Cheetara, squeezing a little harder against the IFC officer's throat. She struggled and tried to scream, kicking legs becoming slower with little life left in them. Grune's grip did not become any looser as he lowered her, waiting for Cheetara to react.

            Cheetara felt her body tremble in fear, unsure of how to save Grune's victim. She had seen the power Grune possessed, knew it was something she might not be able to battle alone. She could taste her own fear on her tongue, even when Lion-O emerged from the side street.

            "Is this one of Katil's warriors?" Lion-O questioned, panting for breath while still standing battle ready. He gripped his fists shut and eyed Grune with rage burning in his eyes.

            "Grune." It was all that Cheetara could muster up. She was still paralyzed with fear as Grune walked closer, dragging the IFC officer's shivering body with him.

            Lion-O did not wait for a further explanation from Cheetara. He quickly jumped forward, pulling together his strength. He caught sight of Grune releasing his victim, the officer struggling for breath as she crumpled on the ground. He kept his focus on Grune while drawing his fist back. A burst of blue light illuminated from his fist and he swung it forward, the energy released in his punch and sending Grune back a few feet. Lion-O pulled up the officer and moved back, shocked at the way his attack only caused Grune's feet to drag and pull up the ground from beneath him.

            "Be careful Lion-O," Cheetara called out, moving forward as Lion-O moved backward.

            Lion-O laid the officer to the side, her voice still gone as she continued to reach for air. He flipped backward and eyed Grune as he walked forward again, unfazed by Lion-O's previous strike. His arm was held out and Lion-O watched as a ball of red energy began to form in the palm of his hand.

            "By Jaga, what is this?" Lion-O whispered, preparing to move again. He was prepared when Grune released the ball, Grune's movement looking effortless to Lion-O. Lion-O leapt out of the way of the blast, watching as it shattered through a nearby shop and exploded. He rolled forward and out of the way of flying debris. He regained his composure and felt Cheetara aiding him in standing.

            "Lion-O, he's very strong," Cheetara warned. Lion-O nodded, standing straight while still eyeing Grune. His approach was slow, taunting, and Lion-O wasn't sure how to strike.

            "Get ready to run," he whispered before charging forward, ignoring Cheetara's call for him. He watched the grin on Grune's lips grow. Lion-O hurled forward, his first kick blocked by Grune's arm. His second kick connected with Grune's thigh just as his other leg came back down. His attack brought Grune to one knee and Lion-O reacted quickly. He spun around from his position, allowing the back of his fist to crash into Grune's jaw. Grune fell slightly and Lion-O took it as a sign. He dashed back and grabbed Cheetara's hand, fleetly moving from the area.

            It wasn't hard for Cheetara to keep up with Lion-O. She followed him into an abandoned structure, the shadowy building discouraging her footsteps. She glanced around as Lion-O slowed, listening to his deep breaths and the stillness of the structure. She released Lion-O's hand and tried to ignore instinct inside of her telling her to keep moving, to keep Lion-O running from Grune. But she sensed greater danger.

            "So this is the great Lion-O that defeated Monkian and the mutants."

            Cheetara gasped at the voice, watching a figure emerge from the shadows of a corner of the room. She stepped back in horror, watching as a familiar large beast followed the figure, growling deeply.

            "Katil," Cheetara stuttered out, backing into Lion-O. She watched a grin curl across Katil's lips. She looked down to the beat, Ma-Mutt, and watched him remain by his master's side. She swallowed back some of her fear, but it was impossible for her not to shiver at the mere sight of her once kidnapper.

            "Cheetara, I expected you to at least seek out the help of someone who could at least defeat Grune. After all, you know of my limitless power," Katil chuckled, taking another step forward and sending another quake across Cheetara's spine.

            Lion-O carefully moved Cheetara aside and then behind his own body. He held his fists shut and narrowed his eyes, sensing something more than evil in Katil. He waited to see if Katil would move.

            "Lion-O, be a good boy, and surrender what is mine," Katil requested with his painted smile. He held his arms crossed over his chest, unfazed by Lion-O's appearance.

            "That is not going to happen Katil," Lion-O replied fleetly, still standing ready for any attack.

            "Is that so?" Katil asked with another chuckle. He moved quicker than the wind itself, catching Lion-O off guard. His first punch slammed into Lion-O's jaw, the second landing against his chest. He flipped upward, his foot catching Lion-O in the chin. He landed in the same area he had stood before with Ma-Mutt by his side, Katil laughing with pleasure as Lion-O fell to his knees.

            "Come on. Is that your power?" Katil inquired with a mocking grin.

            Lion-O panted hard, the back of his hand wiping his mouth. He looked down at his knuckles, saw the blood that was smeared there. He did not know how great Katil's power was before. He had yet to meet an enemy like this. He looked up when he felt a shadow casting over him. He eyed Grune smirking at him, standing over him.

            "Grune, he is no match for me. Rid this planet of him," Katil scoffed, walking toward Cheetara.

            Lion-O was quick about his actions, pulling his energy together before hopping to his feet and kicking Grune hard in the temple. It knocked Grune off balance and he rushed to Cheetara, standing in front of her as Katil stopped his motion. He was still weakened by Katil's attack, but not defeated.

            "Since you won't just go away, I suppose I will have to destroy you," Katil sighed, holding up his hand. Lion-O eyed the red energy ball that began to form in front of Katil's palm. He took deep breaths, preparing for the assault.

            "No," Cheetara called out, her body moving quicker than Lion-O's eyes could. She stood in front of Lion-O, surprised him as she offered her own body as a sacrifice.

            "Dear Cheetara, why must you be so heroic?" Katil asked, closing his fist and dropping his hand. Lion-O questioned Katil's choice to stop his attack. He could not kill Cheetara. Lion-O knew she was the one Katil needed to locate the last piece of armor. Without her, he'd never have the full power of Mumm-Ra.

            "Get ready," Lion-O whispered to Cheetara, pulling what energy he had left together. A dim blue light surrounded his fists and he closed his eyes, something aching in his body as he tried to muster his strength. He knew Thunderians were not capable of this power. He often wondered if his parents knew he had such an ability inside of him?

            Lion-O's eyes reopened and he drew his arm back. He hurled a bright blue orb of energy at Katil, grabbing Cheetara around the waist with his other arm. He jumped back as the orb exploded with a force that caused the structure to collapse and break apart. Lion-O covered Cheetara with his own body, falling debris striking his back and causing him to cringe in pain. He thought of nothing else but trying to survive as things went black and his mind went blank.

            "What a fool," Katil laughed when the debris ceased to fall. He lowered the force field he had drawn up around himself, Grune, and Ma-Mutt once Lion-O threw his blast. He glanced around, still sensing Cheetara's existence amongst the fallen bricks and rock. "They live to see another moon."

                                                                                    **

            Music echoed through the night's sky, cheers from around carrying the notes of instruments into the memories of many. Lights of various colors danced off of homes and shops while a group marched down the streets of a village. A parade entertained the inhabitants of the village and the visitors that occupied the sides of the streets.

            Bengali watched with a stern appearance, still questioning why he, Pumyra, and Lynx-O had stopped to watch the parade. They were in the village because they had received word that there could be a clue as to where one of the pieces of Mumm-Ra's armor might be. Yet, he was convinced by Pumyra's desire to view the spectacle, convinced by Lynx-O's need for rest for a moment. And he wasn't quite sure where Lynx-O was in the crowd anymore. He had allowed the older Thunderian to walk alone as he watched Pumyra, watched something resembling a smile cross her lips as she watched children dance and colors flash.

            Bengali sighed as Thunderians ran about, some covering their faces in painted masks that resembled creatures he'd only seen in books. He caught a glimpse of a child being thrown into the air with glee, probably by her father. It was something he was not well connected with. His own memories of his father were about proving himself. A constant quest to be a strong tiger. It wasn't his goal, but if it meant finding some kind of joy in his father, he was willing.

            He watched with admiring eyes when he saw Pumyra dancing with a few of the children. Even her dance steps were graceful, something he'd never truly viewed before. Her hair danced in the opposite direction her body moved, white tips occasionally falling over her face like painted swipes of snow. Her hands were in the air, her eyes filled with peace. He caught her looking his way and hoped that he was seeing forgiveness in her expression rather than just the beauty that encompassed her. He hoped that smile she shed was just for him because secretly he didn't want it to be for anyone else. Secretly he still hated himself for arguing with her, letting his patience and understanding fade due to rejection. It was not in his nature.

            Lynx-O walked with his sense guiding him. He could taste the happiness in the air, a taste and sensation he rarely experienced. He felt gusts of wind when Thunderians past him, helping his mind to guide in the direction he needed to walk. He needed to find an area clear of joyful Thunderians so that he could rest, give his body a moment of relaxation.

            He was unprepared when he bumped into something, a noise come from it. He was surprised, his senses failing him for the first time in years. He reached out and down, feeling fur when his hand came level with his thigh.

            "I apologize," Lynx-O said quickly, still feeling around. "You're a snarf?"

            "Yep, snarfer snarfer. Are you blind?"

            The voice was pitchy, something Lynx-O had come to know from the race of snarfs he had met in his lifetime. "Yes kind friend, I am."

            "I'm Snarfer. I've never seen you around here before, snarfer snarfer. New?" Snarfer questioned, a proud smile on his lips.

            "I am Lynx-O and me and my friends are here in search of something," Lynx-O replied, sensing the good spirit in the snarf's voice. He smiled and let his hands rest at his side.

            "You bumped into the right snarf then, snarfer snarfer," Snarfer cheered.

            Lynx-O raised an eyebrow curiously. "Then you've heard of the armor of Mumm-Ra?"

            "You bet," Snarfer replied happily.

            Bengali felt a shift in the air, his eyes quickly looking around. Something inside of him reacted and he felt the hair of his head tingle. It was a cool breeze, one that ran down his back and left everything inside of him unsettled.

            Then he saw it. He saw a lone figure flip into the air, his body spiraling before landing in the midst of the children and Pumyra, the gusts of wind following him in strong currents. He clenched his fist tightly shut, untrusting of this new stranger. He watched the way the crowd dispersed, the parade halting and moving aside while Pumyra stood straight.

            "What a beautiful sight you are. You can call me Wily Kat," Wily Kat gleamed, offering his hand to Pumyra without inhibition. She merely stared back at him with narrowed eyes.

            Bengali found it impossible to hold his anger. He stepped forward quickly, not close enough to Pumyra and Wily Kat, but close enough to be seen. "Pumyra, move away."

            "Pumyra? So beauty comes with a name," Wily Kat purred, running a slow finger over Pumyra's arm. She jerked back quickly, her upper lip curling. She swallowed a growl as Wily Kat laughed deeply, still smiling with that haunting look.

            "I assume that you are with Katil's forces," Pumyra hissed, one hand resting on the tan belt that was wrapped twice around her waist.

            Wily Kat watched her hand, aware of his full surroundings while staring at Pumyra. He did not let his smirk diminish, eyeing Bengali from the corner of his eye. "I'm just here to warn you, the blind lynx, and your little boyfriend that you should avoid getting in Katil's way. He will get the armor of Mumm-Ra and Thundera will be his."

            "What makes you so sure?" Pumyra asked through gritted teeth.

            Wily Kat merely laughed at her response, swiping his hand over her bare shoulder before leaping back into the air, his form disappearing as quick as the winds that raced through the streets upon his jump. Pumyra placed a hand over her eyes, shielding them from the flying dirt as pieces of the parade were whisked into the air by Wily Kat's action. She turned her head to Bengali, his eyes still peering with fists still clenched.

            "I know where one of the pieces is," Lynx-O called out, interrupting the stare that Pumyra and Bengali shared. Pumyra looked away from Bengali first, still contemplating Wily Kat's words. She didn't want to admit to the truth in them or the thoughts that they encouraged inside of her.

                                                                                    **

            Tygra held a steady hand on a door, questioning whether or not to open it. He glanced around the street he stood on, a street deserted with almost no signs of life. He was in a town that almost devoid of existence. Shadows traced over everything as the sun slowly faded across the buildings and dwellings that ran down the street. Tygra felt a tingling on the back of his neck, an honest reaction to being in such a desolate place. But he was there for a reason.

            He pushed opened the door, eyes glancing around the small shop. He glanced at different metal objects, some resembling weapons while others resembling creations. He ran his fingers over glass, a case holding what looked to be designs for some sort of vehicle. Tygra took a closer look, admiring the penciling that made him yearn for his days of doing architecture.

            "Sorry, shop's closed. Bring back what you have in the morning."

            Tygra grinned, listening to the deep voice from behind him. He turned on his heels slowly, resting hands on his hips while holding that wide grin on his lips. His eyes faltered a little when he looked upon the gray panther standing a few feet away. His face was paler than Tygra remembered, showing of age. His strong build remained as he held up a large metal object, staring back at Tygra with a small smile tugging at the corners of his tight lips.

            "Sorry old friend, I didn't know that the rules applied to former partners," Tygra grinned. The panther stayed quiet and Tygra took a few quiet steps forward. "What's wrong Panthro? No words for me?"

            "That would require me to ignore the fact that I know you are here for more than just small talk and faded memories," Panthro replied, stepping from around the wooden table he stood behind. He dropped the metal object into a pile of metal on the floor, the stuttering clank resounding through the shop.

            "How you know me still so well," Tygra grinned, crossing his arms while eyeing Panthro.

            "Who could possibly for