Unbroken: Rise of the Horde

Chapter Nine

"Why did you do it?" someone hollered.

Hordak gasped as he saw the figure from so many nightmares standing in front of him. Blood raced down from his wounds and fire burned in the Rebellion fighter's black eyes. The clone tried to back away, but his legs were frozen to the ground. The warrior stepped forward and grabbed Hordak by his uniform. His black hair was tangled and matted with sticks and leaves.

"You will pay for what you did to me," he seethed. "For what you did to all of them!"

A sheer cliff appeared behind them. Hordak tried to fight the man's grasp, but it was too strong. A purple glow encircled his fits.

Then without another word, the man dropped Hordak off the edge. The last thing he saw was the smoldering hate flaming in the former king's dark eyes.

Hordak bolted awake in a cold sweat. He panted for breaths and forced himself to calm before the panic caused another trigger. The room was dark and cool, which helped a little.

It's been fifteen years, Hordak thought pitifully. Why can't I simply forget?

...

Several weeks passed and Hordak had made more progress on the portal than he had in years.  Even though she was a Princess, Hordak began to view Entrapta less harshly. It seemed to be that royalty wasn't her only defining feature.

She's more helpful than Catra, easily, he thought. The Force Captain directed the Etherian troops. She, like so many others, would never be able to understand his real mission. Capturing the planet was an important piece of his plan, but he had little care for those involved in it. Just like Shadow Weaver before, and Mira and Tyran before that, they were just pawns in a greater game. 

Catra had been working double time and was even more desperate to prove herself to the Horde. They'd covered significant ground and gathered much territory. Though it would not help her. Her reputation and status was damaged beyond repair at this point. Hordak had such high hopes for her. Her ruthlessness and cunning were key aspects to becoming an outstanding leader, but she failed to live up to expectation. Instead, just like Shadow Weaver before, she was distracted. She had ulterior motives. She didn't care about the Horde's success nearly as much as her own victory over Adora.

Hordak had other pressing matters at hand.  One morning, Hordak had to fix his armor. The uniform underneath could not cover up the decay. It was much worse now than ever before. His frame was skinnier and the sickly blue sign of dead flesh had spread even farther along his arms and back.

Half way through, a new voice entered the room. "Lord Hordak," Catra greeted. Even though he was hidden by shadow, Catra gasped and dipped into a bow. 

Hordak grunted. Her again, his thoughts muttered. Catra worked hard, but he was rapidly loosing his faith in her.  He quickly finished putting the rest of his armor onto his arms. While he drapped his red cape over his shoulders, he demanded, "Why is Shadow Weaver still in the Fright Zone?"

Catra looked up, confused. "She's my prisoner."

"A dangerous one," he pointed out. "I want her banished to Beast Island at once."

His gut twisted at the name. Fifteen years ago, the title had never bothered him, but since the incident...

He turned his guilt into something less self destructive. Something more outwardly destructive, much better.

"What?" Catra sputtered, bolting to her feet.

Hordak turned and bared his teeth, displeased with her lack of manners in his presence. Why did she resist? She hated Shadow Weaver. Hordak certainly felt no sympathy for the old hag.