We Have the Power!
Copyright© 2026 by Carlos Santiago
Chapter 7: Who We Really Are
“You know what that means? It’s Latin. Means ‘Know thyself.’ I’m going to let you in on a little secret. Being The One is just like being in love. No one can tell you you’re in love, you just know it. Through and through. Balls to bones.”
— The Oracle (as portrayed by Gloria Foster), in The Matrix. Written and directed by Lana Wachowski and Lilly Wachowski (also known as the Wachowski; though, credited at the time as The Wachowski Brothers). Produced by Joel Silver. Based on an original story by the Wachowskis. U.S. theatrical release: March 31, 1999. Distributed by Warner Bros. Pictures. Copyright © 1999 Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc. All rights reserved.
The cave had grown quiet since their tender moment.
Cringer quickly fell asleep near the entrance. A single ear twitched whenever the volcanic wind drifted inside.
Adam had backed away when he saw how thoughtful Evil-Lyn was becoming. He made a seat for himself beside the small fire with the Sword of Power resting across his knees while Evil-Lyn seemed to study both him and the peerless, polished blade.
“So,” she finally said, “how does it work?”
Adam glanced down at the sword.
“You mean ... becoming He-Man?”
She nodded.
“I’ve watched you transform back, and clearly there are words, but does it work the same in reverse? Or no? Also, where does the power come from?”
He hesitated before answering. At this moment, like before, they were at a crossroads. If he told her everything, he was risking the most private secrets of how his transformation worked. Nevertheless, some part of his instincts told him that anything less than full transparency, and he would lose the opportunity to have Lyn as an ally, let alone anything more personal.
That left him little to no choice.
“Castle Grayskull,” Adam said. “I call out to Grayskull, and I turn into He-Man. Sorceress also said that it had something to do with the Orb of Grayskull.”
Lyn’s eyes narrowed as if she was being fed a lie.
“The Orb?”
He nodded.
“The power of the Council of Elders was transformed into an orb and rests in the Heart of Grayskull. The Sword channels some of its power as well as all the power in the Universe, I suppose. I’m not a magician, so I don’t have all of the technical answers.”
For a moment, there was no noise; then, she let out a single, mocking laugh.
“So that’s it.”
“What?”
“That,” she said, “is what Skeletor has wanted all these years.”
Adam frowned.
“The Orb?”
“He doesn’t know it is an orb now,” Lyn said. “Well, I don’t think. He wanted the power of the Council of Elders, for Skeletor believes they had the very essence of the magical energies of reality, and if he possessed that same power, he would become the mightiest being in the universe.”
Adam shook his head.
“Then he’s wasting his time.”
“Oh?”
“He can’t even enter Castle Grayskull without the Sorceress allowing him,” Adam said “She controls the castle’s magic, and I am pretty sure she can defend it from the likes of him.”
Lyn’s gaze slowly drifted from Adam to the Sword.
“Perhaps,” she said softly, shaking her head. “Or maybe you have what he really needs.”
“The Sword?” Adam asked, perplexed.
She nodded.
“Most magic has sources and keys. Much like Marzo, Skeletor, or me. Our magical ability is within ourselves, but Marzo needs his amulet, Skeletor and I use staffs to exert that power to the outer world. If the same thinking can be applied to the Orb, using the Castle as an extension, then the Sword could be the key.”
He considered that for a long moment.
“I don’t think it would work.”
“And why not?”
“Because...” Adam searched for the right words. “Because it chose me.”
Lyn smiled faintly.
“I have been thinking about that for what limited time I have had. Obviously, the sword had its own abilities, but I think it answers to something already inside you.”
She tapped one finger lightly against the flat of the blade.
“Maybe it is an innate magic ... destiny ... a heroic nature ... whatever name you wish to give it.”
Her expression became more thoughtful.
“But if that is true,” she kept going, lost in thought. “ ... then someone like Skeletor or myself could likely trigger a similar result as we already have strong magic of our own,” Lyn finished.
To that, Adam said nothing for a moment. Lyn was in her own little world, considering the implications of what she was being told.
After a few moments, Adam picked up the weapon and held it across both of his palms toward her.
“Then take it.”
Lyn looked at him.
“If you’re after what this thing can do or betraying me is what you really want, this is your moment. We both know I can’t stop you as I am.”
“What?” Lyn said, flinching back.
“You know where Grayskull is,” Adam said, not withdrawing his heads or the tool from her. “You believe you know what Skeletor wants.”
He looked at her. A fire was burning in his eyes.
“If you think the Sword would answer you, you could become everything he dreams of becoming, and you don’t have to answer to anyone. Not him; not me.”
Lyn stared at the weapon then to Adam. She could not believe what he was offering her; further still, she was amazed that there was no fear in his eyes, only passion and anger.
“I...” she said quietly.
For perhaps the first time since they had met, the confident witch had no clever answer, for she discovered another terrible quality to his eyes. Adam trusted her.
Her gaze lingered on the Sword one last time before returning to Adam.
“I need to think,” she said, picking herself up and leaving the cave.
After the recent capture of some of the Evil Warriors, the royal throne room had begun to feel lighter.
King Randor stood near the foot of the throne, studying several architectural drawings spread across a broad table. Some were for repairs while others were suggested improvements that might prove necessary for the improvement of Eternos.
Man-at-Arms stood opposite him while Teela leaned over one corner. Teela was not yet ready to be the Captain of the Guard that Randor and then Duncan had been, but she was learning and needed to be involved in meetings like this.
Queen Marlena sat quietly upon her throne, listening as the discussion unfolded.
“I’ve spoken with the Royal Engineers,” Duncan said. “The ordinary cells beneath the palace won’t hold warriors like Trap Jaw or Clawful indefinitely, so construction on my durable cells are already underway.”
“I expected as much from these circumstances,” Randor said. “Especially since you and Sorceress cannot simply make another Mystic Wall. Correct?”
To this, Duncan nodded.
Teela looked over one of the sketches.
“It doesn’t look like a prison,” she commented.
“It isn’t,” Duncan replied. “Not in the traditional sense.”
He pointed to several thick concentric walls.
“The compound will be a single floor with walls constructed of Eternium ore, lined with ironvine. Each prisoner will have an isolated chamber, and there will be no shared walls nor adjoining passages. Every entrance will require multiple locking mechanisms.”
“And magic?” Randor asked.
“Sorceress had already given me a spell that Orko can perform to resist teleportation and prevent mystical tampering.”
“So if Evil-Lyn ever ends up there...?” Teela wondered.
“ ... she won’t simply disappear in a flash of smoke,” Duncan finished.
Randor allowed himself a rare smile.
“For the first time in years, we must prepare for the possibility that Skeletor will lose.”
Duncan reached for another drawing. He motioned to a larger, much more detailed cell.
“The one intended for Skeletor,” Man-at-Arms said. “There will be no windows, no extra entrances or exists, many hundreds of feet underground, and we can install a failsafe in case he escapes, it will be flood with lava.”
Teela whistled quietly.
“Is that not excessive?” Randor wondered.
“Keldor was fierce. Skeletor is the worst version of that, Your Highness, so I thought it best to think ahead.”
“I never imagined we would be discussing where to imprison Skeletor after his return,” Randor said with a sigh. He nodded his head to Man-at-Arms. “You have done well.”
“We won’t know that for certain until He-Man defeats Skeletor, but it is a start.”
It was night in the Dark Hemisphere when she walked along the top of the rocky formation.
It would have been so easy to seize the Sword of Power as he said and kill him. He was but a boy in comparison to her, no older than twenty.
When he had transformed himself into his true self, a single spell would end the matter before he ever reached the weapon. He was right; after she killed him, she could go to Castle Grayskull and discover whether the Sword truly was the key to the Orb, which would have been what Skeletor would have done. After all, he had sought that power for years.
Conversely, she could have slain the young man and returned to Skeletor’s side, and he might have rewarded her for the show of loyalty.
However, for some reason, she remained where she was. There was almost no temptation to go back and slay this Adam.
“ ... Why?” she whispered to herself.
The question almost answered itself. In asking the inquiry to the world, her thoughts drifted far into the past, back to her childhood. She remembered her father.
The Faceless One had never approved of Keldor. He had warned her that ambition without restraint always devoured itself. Those were noble sentiments that had nothing to do with how to live.
How had her father been the Ancient Lord of Zalesia? He was not a simpleton, but he viewed the world through a lens that felt too small.
She had dismissed him for his thinking. Because of how neutral her father had been, it had been easy to see Keldor as brilliant, confident, determined with an unending ambition.
She had admired that he had a vision that encouraged others to follow him. There was even a time when she had perhaps even loved the man.
Then came the Hall of Wisdom and his battle with King Randor, who was only a Captain at the time. The acid had been a way to harm the warrior. She had carried his broken body to Hordak.
She had watched ancient magic save his life while stealing something far greater. When Keldor looked into the mirror and laughed at the skull staring back at him ... she knew the man she had chosen was gone.
He was no longer driven by passions to rule, for power for some end. Might for its own sake was the end for him. So much of his humanity had been lost when he been ‘healed’.
She had stayed by his side anyway. It was not for the love of him but because power remained worth pursuing. In a way, he had been right to love power. Her father had all but abandoned her to her own wants once upon a time. She might as well have been raised by poor street urchins.
Years became decades behind the Mystic Wall.
She learned and grew stronger even going so far as to correct some of Skeletor’s mistakes. The exile had been excellent for her. Her learning the old lessons her father had instilled as well as the arcane secrets that Skeletor had let fall her way had been irreplaceable to her.
Opportunity was wasted by pride, she recalled. Not just Skeletor, but all of them. They had all withered away in their exile from the other half of Eternia. He had become a man too arrogant to recognize that he had already begun losing.
That had been her destiny.
She was tired of going in circles, but she could not betray Skeletor directly.
Then came He-Man ... not He-Man. Adam.
He was everything she had once hated, for like her father, he trusted too easily, believed the best in others and his situation too readily. Maybe like her father, he believed he had power enough to protect himself from the threats that sounded him.
He saw good where her experience insisted there was none. The very notion disgusted her, or rather, it should have; instead, this reality unsettled her.
Offering her the Sword of Power had been his choice. Maybe it was the Key to Grayskull and the magnificent secrets within, but it was not some trap like she would have received from Skeletor nor a test of her morality like her father might have done.
The proposal was made simply because he believed she should choose. Everything she had ever wanted lay within reach.
If the weapon was a key to more wonders, this was a future where there were no masters, no chains, no rules ... There would be no more regret in not being what her father had wanted of her, no Skeletor to be her ruler, no war of good versus evil.
She simply could be ... Lyn ... She could be her own person.
Did he know what he was offering her? There was no way that he could. Her father had hoped she would take a different path, but hope had never been the motivation to guide her ambitions.
For that simple truth alone, she wanted to scream, for there was no right answer before her. She could be the woman she had trained to be under Skeletor, or she could be what her father wanted.
Her father had not called her Evil-Lyn, but Evelyn.
By accepting Adam’s offer, was that who she was on the path to becoming?
She thought of those above Skeletor ... Maybe Hordak, but he was trapped in Despondos ... There was no greater power than Skeletor, and all of the evils, machinations ... All of it just felt so small when put forth before someone who trusted her with their very life, and someone who would take hers if it meant his dreams might be fulfilled.
Adam paced the length of the cave for what felt like the hundredth time.
Five steps one way.
Five steps back.
His hands repeatedly found the back of his neck before he threw them in the air and then fell uselessly to his sides.
“What was I thinking?” he muttered.
Cringer lifted his head briefly before deciding the question required no answer and settled back down.
Adam sighed.
“No, really ... what was I thinking?”
He stopped beside the Sword of Power resting against the cave wall.
Hours had gone by since she left. Revealing his secret had felt ... right in the moment. Honesty was the correct course, but as the thought was allowed to ruminate, he felt reckless in the worst way.
He had trusted the lieutenant of Skeletor.
Not just with the Sword.
With everything.
“If Duncan knew...” Adam groaned. “He’d probably die of shock. Oh! What is Sorceress going to say?”
If she knew, she probably would have trapped him in Grayskull all on her own.
She probably would have been right to do it too.
He stopped once more, staring out toward the volcanic horizon, wondering if Lyn was going off to tell her master.
Somehow, despite every warning his mind could invent, he could not bring himself to regret his choice. There was something within his person that told him what he had done was the right thing.
When Lyn had learned the truth, she had possessed every opportunity to destroy him, but she had made no move to do so. She had shared a kiss with him, and what an amazing thing that was.
He just did not understand.
As that thought crossed his mind, he began to realize that he was not sure if he meant he did not comprehend the moment, Evil-Lyn, or ... himself.
“Man-at-Arms,” came Marlena’s voice from behind him.
Duncan stopped.
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