“Mission in the Kingdom of Snows” PART 6 (Despara Au)

Notes:

You must can read previous chapters here:

Chapter 1 ✨

Chapter2 ✨

Chapter3✨ 

Chapter4✨

Chapter5✨

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This story takes place shortly after the events of this mini comic: Despara Minicomic

The interior of Scorpia's ship was thick with tension, the silence weighing down like a gravestone. The air still carried the bitter scent of ozone and metal burned by ice, remnants of the catastrophic battle in the Runestone chamber.

The residual heat from takeoff was quickly dissipating, replaced by an unnatural cold seeping in from the outside—a chilling reminder of what they had unleashed. The very atmosphere seemed to have turned.

Catra remained in the cockpit, arms rigidly crossed over her chest, eyes fixed on an indeterminate point on the metallic wall. Her tail flicked through the air with frustration, an obvious reflection of the chaotic thoughts tangled in her mind.

Behind her, her squad waited in absolute silence.

Lonnie, Kyle, and Rogelio stood in their positions, tense, their gazes locked onto the floor or anywhere else that wasn't Catra. The weight of failure pressed down on all of them.

Scorpia piloted the ship, stiff, her pincers tightly closed. She seemed to be holding herself back, as if waiting for the exact moment when everything would explode.

No one spoke.

There was no need.

They had failed.

Catra closed her eyes, claws digging into her own arms. The echoes of the battle in the Runestone chamber still vibrated on her skin: the cracking of the gemstone, the explosion of dark magic devouring the earth, and the snow covering Etheria in frozen vengeance. All because of her failure.

And, as if that weren't enough…

She had lost the dagger.

The dagger Despara had entrusted to her personally.

Adora—no, Despara—would never forgive this.

Her breathing grew heavy, uneven. She tried to steady herself, but the image of Despara looming over her with that cold, detached stare refused to leave her mind.

A metallic snap shattered the silence.

Catra’s eyes flew open.

Another sound. A dull thud.

And then, a voice.

"Oops! Was that important?"

From one of the ventilation grates above, purple cables tumbled to the floor with a metallic rattle. Seconds later, a figure descended with the nonchalance of someone stepping off a swing.

Entrapta.

She landed with a light bounce, straightening effortlessly and dusting herself off with a wide grin.

"Hi!" she greeted enthusiastically, as if she'd just arrived at a party. "Wow! This ship is incredible. But I have some improvement suggestions for the ventilation system. It’s a bit tight to move around, though I managed to optimize my mobility using my pigtails as—"

"HOW THE HELL DID YOU GET HERE?!" Catra roared, her tail bristling.

Entrapta blinked, tilting her head as if she didn’t understand the issue.

"Oh, well, I was exploring the ship and then suddenly—boom! The doors locked, the pilot shouted something about ‘evacuation mode,’ and we took off. And I thought: ‘Oh, wow! This is exciting!’"

Scorpia swallowed audibly. Kyle looked like he was about to collapse. Lonnie ran a hand down her face, muttering something unintelligible. Rogelio exhaled, visibly done with life.

Catra felt a buzzing in her head, the kind that came with mounting rage.

She closed her eyes and inhaled.

And then exhaled with a short, incredulous laugh—one filled with pure exhaustion.

"This can’t be happening." Her voice was barely a whisper as she ran her hands through her hair, yanking out a few strands in frustration. "This cannot be happening."

And yet, there stood Entrapta, right in the middle of the cockpit as if nothing were wrong, after sneaking onto a Horde ship without anyone noticing.

Then, a thought crossed Catra’s mind. She actually tried to convince Entrapta to join the Horde at the ball, and now she was there. Maybe not how she had planned, but she was there. Maybe the mission hadn’t been a total failure.

Oblivious to Catra’s epiphany, Entrapta kept talking.

"But don’t worry!" she said, waving her hands excitedly. "If you let me stay, I can make some improvements here. Did you know the Horde’s navigation system has a slight delay in itsrotation calibration? You should be using a—"

The resounding crash of the ship’s doors opening cut her off.

Catra froze, but not because of the gust of icy air that cut straight into her bones.

Hordak. Shadow Weaver. Despara.

The three figures stood like statues of judgment on the landing strip, their silhouettes casting menacing shadows beneath the fortress’s red lights.

Catra felt the weight of defeat pressing down on her like a concrete slab.

This would be the worst homecoming of her life.

"Disembark."

Hordak’s voice echoed through the hangar with the finality of a verdict already rendered. He didn’t need details. He wasn’t asking for explanations. He had already made a decision. 

Catra moved first, each step down the ramp heavier than the last, as if gravity itself was trying to drag her to the ground—to the condemnation that awaited her. Behind her, Lonnie, Kyle, and Rogelio followed in silence, their expressions hard, followed by Scorpia, ready to intervene if things spiraled out of control. As if that would make a difference.

And then, Entrapta, with her usual bright smile in place, as if she wasn’t standing in an enemy base. As if she wasn’t face-to-face with Hordak, Shadow Weaver, and Despara—the three most ruthless figures in the Horde.

"Wow, it’s really cold out here!" Entrapta commented casually, rubbing her arms. "Not a problem for me, but this place’s infrastructure might suffer if this temperature persists."

The Horde soldiers exchanged confused glances, some tightening their grips on their weapons, unsure if they should act or keep pretending this wasn’t happening.

Entrapta didn’t seem to notice the tension in the air—or if she did, she simply didn’t care. She turned toward Hordak, studying him with a mix of scientific fascination and uncontained excitement.

“Oh! Your armor is impressive!” she exclaimed, leaning forward without the slightest regard for personal space. “Is it a fusion of technology and biometal? Do you have an integrated exoskeleton, or is it part of your bone structure?”

Catra felt a nervous tic in her eye.

Shadow Weaver crossed her arms, her cloak floating slightly with restrained energy.

“Why is there a princess here?” Her mask tilted just enough to make her disdain all the more evident.

Catra felt her skin prickle.

Despara’s gaze slowly slid toward Catra with cold curiosity.

“I thought she could be useful to the Horde,” she replied quickly, choosing each word with precision. “The Rebellion recruited her recently. She’s an expert in technology and knows a lot about the Runestones.”

Entrapta nodded eagerly.

“Exactly!” she exclaimed, as if she were merely confirming a casual conversation. “This is so exciting. The Horde has an incredible infrastructure! I’ve been wanting to study it for a long time!”

Finally, Hordak spoke. "You three, take her to a cell. She’ll be interrogated later."

Lonnie nodded firmly, not questioning the order.

Rogelio growled in obedience, while Kyle seemed as if he wanted to say something but bit his tongue.

The three of them moved forward, grabbing Entrapta by the arms. She didn’t even try to resist.

"Oh, great!" she exclaimed with an enthusiasm that didn’t match the situation. "Can I see how the locks work from the inside? Do they use biometric codes or a combination of electromagnetic security systems? Oh, and we could optimize the interrogation system with artificial intelligence! Can I ask questions during the interrogation?"

The sound of the metal door closing behind Entrapta echoed in the hangar like a gunshot. A long, empty echo.

But the judgment wasn’t over.

Catra felt Hordak's gaze on her. Cold. Unyielding. Analytical.

Shadow Weaver advanced with the grace of a shadow, her cloak billowing with a faint glimmer of dark magic.

"What a predictable disaster," she said, her voice dripping with venom. "I should’ve known that trusting you with this mission would be a waste of resources."

Catra gritted her teeth, her claws digging into her palms.

"We did what we could," she said, her tone tight, controlled. But Shadow Weaver smiled with mockery.

"'What we could,' you say?" she repeated with disdain. "And what exactly did you accomplish?"

Shadow Weaver stepped closer to Catra, her mask tilting slightly.

"You didn’t just fail to bring the power of the Runestone… you corrupted it." Her tone was like a shard of ice sliding beneath the skin. "You’ve thrown the planet into chaos."

Catra felt fury ignite in her chest like an uncontrollable fire, each of Shadow Weaver’s words a wound, a calculated strike meant to humiliate her. But before she could react, a desperate voice shattered the silence.

"It was my fault!"

Scorpia.

"I... I should’ve stopped her!" she blurted out, turning to face Shadow Weaver, her eyes reflecting anguish. "That sparklyprincess... Glimmer... showed up at the worst possible moment. Right when the extraction was at its critical point."

Scorpia took a deep breath, trying to contain the frustration that overflowed with every word.

"I tried to stop her, I swear." Her pincers clenched tightly, her shoulders stiff. "But she was too fast. She teleported before I could even touch her. And then..."

Her voice faltered, her gaze dropping to the ground for a moment.

"Everything collapsed."

The air seemed to grow thicker.

"The magic got out of control," she continued, distress evident in her voice. "The Runestone fractured, the energy exploded, and everything turned to chaos. And Catra, she almost got killed!”

Catra felt a sharp, dry pain in her chest.

No. She couldn’t let Scorpia turn her into a victim.

“Shut up.”

Scorpia blinked, the weight of her own guilt reflected in her gaze, but she said nothing more.

Shadow Weaver let out a dry laugh.

“Almost got killed?” she murmured, with a trace of mockery in every syllable. “Maybe that would’ve been for the best.”

Catra could feel the fire inside her growing, uncontrollable.

“Enough.” Hordak’s voice cut through the air. “We lost the Runestone. What we’ve gained in return is uncertain.” Hordakcontinued, his gaze sweeping over the others. His tone remained impassive, but there was the clear hint of an underlying threat. “A new element has imposed itself over Etheria. A power we didn’t plan for, one we didn’t direct…”

Control, that was what concerned him.Not the failure, not the corruption of the Runestone, but that something had escaped his grasp.

Despara, who had remained silent until now, stepped forward.

“Perhaps not all is lost.”

Shadow Weaver narrowed her eyes.

Hordak watched her with renewed interest.

“This sudden winter…” Despara continued, her voice free of doubt, “could be an advantage.”

The others watched her in silence.

“The Rebellion wasn’t prepared for this,” she went on, her calm demeanor suggesting she’d already analyzed the situation. “Their lands, their refuges, their strategies… everything will be affected. The cold will weaken them. We, on the other hand, can use it to our advantage.”

Hordak nodded slowly.

“And now we possess a princess.” Despara added, gesturing faintly toward the door through which Entrapta had been taken. “One that the Rebellion considered valuable.”

Shadow Weaver clicked her tongue.

“A princess without a Runestone.” She mocked. “The true power was in the magic of the Runestone, not in the creature analyzing it. It was essential to acquire that power, and you lost it.”

Her eyes drilled into Catra.

“You should be punished.”

The cold in the hangar seemed to intensify.

Catra felt Hordak’s gaze on her.

But before she could speak, Despara moved again.

“No.”

Shadow Weaver tilted her head in a questioning gesture.

“No?”

“Catra acted under my orders. If anyone should take responsibility for her…” Her voice dropped to a sharp whisper, “It’s me.”

Shadow Weaver watched her for a moment… and then smiled.

“I see.”

She didn’t say anything more.

Hordak nodded.

“Then it’s decided.”

Shadow Weaver didn’t respond, but her smile widened slightly beneath the mask. Her eyes gleamed with dark satisfaction, as if she understood something the others didn’t.

Catra felt the weight of her gaze, but didn’t react.

The fire inside her stirred, twisting with humiliation, rage… confusion.

Despara hadn’t blamed her.

She hadn’t destroyed her in front of the others, but neither had she defended her.

And somehow, that was worse.

Catra wondered if Despara’s silence was a punishment on its own. If her indifference was her way of showing that she no longer expected anything from her.

The sound of metal echoed as Hordak turned on his heel, his cape trailing behind him with a calculated motion.

“Leave.”

Catra took a second to process the order.

“What?”

Hordak didn’t even dignify her with a look.

“You’re Despara’s responsibility now. I have no interest in seeing you again unless you give me a reason to.”

Catra felt her pride twist. She clenched her fists, her claws digging into her palms. But she said nothing. She turned to leave, but before she reached the hangar doors, Desparastopped her.

“Catra. Come with me.”

It was an order. Of course it was.

But Catra didn’t question it.

She had no choice.

She forced herself to walk after her, feeling Scorpia’s gaze burn into her back until the doors closed behind them.

The Fright Zone’s corridors stretched out like an endless tunnel, an abyss of shadows and steel, lit only by the erratic flicker of monitors embedded in the walls. The cables snaked along the ceiling like veins of a mechanical creature, pulsing with cold, inhuman energy.

Catra walked behind Despara.

They didn’t speak.

Catra didn’t want to be the first to break the silence, but the weight of the unsaid was a constant pressure on her chest, as if the air grew denser with every step.

Finally, Despara stopped.

Catra barely had time to halt before bumping into her.

Despara slowly turned her head.

Her eyes shone under the dim light, empty, unfathomable.

“You lost the dagger.”

It wasn’t a question.

Catra felt a chill run down her spine. There was no way to hide it.

“Yes.”

Catra waited for a reprimand, a judgment… some reaction that would give meaning to the guilt she’d been carrying.

But Despara showed nothing.

She didn’t punish her.

She didn’t look at her with fury.

She didn’t look at her the way Adora would have.

Instead, she unsheathed her sword.

Catra tensed, her tail immediately bristling, but Despara didn’t strike.

She raised the sword calmly, as if it were a mere formality, and the air around her vibrated with dark, dense energy. It almost looked like the blade was breathing.

Catra felt her skin prickle as shadows slid from the edge, twisting and condensing into a new shape.

She recognized it immediately.

A dagger. The same one she had lost.

It emerged from the black mist, floating with an unnatural glow, as if the darkness itself were exhaling it. When the magic finished shaping it, Despara held it between her fingers and twirled it with cold indifference.

“It doesn’t matter.”

Catra blinked.

It didn’t matter?

Everything she’d been carrying with her up until now, the anxiety… didn’t mean anything?

Before she could process it, Despara threw the dagger at her without looking.

Catra caught it by reflex.

The weight was the same.

Cold and sharp as a needle.

A fragment of shadow ripped from the sword. A reflection without essence.

Something that could exist or disappear in an instant.

“It’s just a vessel to contain runic magic, an echo of the sword’s magic. If it’s not used, it disappears.” She continued, spinning her sword with the same indifference she’d used to create the dagger. “Just a tool. If it’s destroyed, another can be made. If it’s lost, it’s replaced.”

Catra looked at the dagger in her hand.

“I thought it was important,” she whispered without thinking.

Despara looked at her, her expression unshakable.

“It was. Until it stopped being so.”

For a moment, the flickering light in the corridor made the shadows on Despara’s face seem deeper, sharper.

“All tools are like this in the Horde, Catra. “They’re replaceable.”

Catra felt a spasm in her chest.

The dagger in her hand suddenly felt lighter. More fragile.

Catra didn’t need it spelled out.

She knew Despara wasn’t just talking about the dagger.

If Catra didn’t prove her worth, she would vanish in a wisp of smoke just like that dagger.

Catra gripped the hilt tightly, feeling the vibration of dark magic within it.

If she let go now, the dagger would disappear.

As if it had never existed.

As if she had never existed.

But Despara kept speaking.

“Shadow Weaver and Hordak think the same way.” Her voice held no emotion. “They only see soldiers, weapons, resources. Lose your purpose, and they’ll discard you.”

Catra felt a lump in her throat.

She already knew that.

She had always known.

The Horde didn’t allow weakness.

But hearing it from Despara… hearing it from Adora, even though she wasn’t Adora anymore…it hurt more than she was willing to admit.

But then, Despara did something unexpected.

She held her gaze.

And then, she closed the distance between them.

Catra didn’t have time to react before Despara raised a hand and, with an unsettling gentleness, stroked her cheek.

The contact was light, but Catra’s skin immediately prickled.

It wasn’t a blow.

It wasn’t a punishment.

It wasn’t a warning.

It was… something else.

Something Despara never did.

Catra didn’t know whether to pull away or stay still.

And then Despara spoke.

But this time, it wasn’t the voice of a leader speaking to her soldier.

It was something softer.

“But I don’t want to get rid of you, Catra.”

Despara’s fingers slid slowly off her cheek, leaving behind a trail of cold on her skin.

“You have to prove that you’re worth the trust I’m giving you.”

The moment broke, and with it, any doubt Catra might have had about the true meaning of those words.

It wasn’t affection.

It was an offer to atone, one that Despara could take away at any moment.

Despara turned and continued on her way, cutting off any possibility of a reply.

For a moment, Catra considered whether to follow her, as if doing so would mean accepting the offer that had just been presented to her.

Finally, she relented and walked in silence behind Despara.

Like the good subordinate she was.

———————————THE END—————————————

🖤It's been quite a while since we last updated this little story! Writing isn’t exactly our forte, but we still hope you’ve enjoyed this fragment of our Despara AU. We have plenty more to share, and we'll be telling those stories through mini-comics and illustrations in the future. Stay tuned!!!🖤