We Have the Power!
Copyright© 2026 by Carlos Santiago
Chapter 3: ... I Have the Power!
“Might for right ... Might for right!”
— King Arthur (as portrayed by Richard Harris), in Camelot. Screenplay by Alan Jay Lerner, based on the stage musical Camelot by Alan Jay Lerner and Frederick Loewe, which was adapted from The Once and Future King by T. H. White. Directed by Joshua Logan. U.S. theatrical release: October 25, 1967. Produced by Warner Bros.-Seven Arts. Copyright © 1967 Warner Bros.-Seven Arts, Inc. All rights reserved.
“ ... I have the Power!”
The words reverberated throughout the Heart of Grayskull, and a pillar of hotel, golden-white lightning descended from on high, through the magical barriers and stone of the castle. This electricity struck the sword of power, altering Adam.
The Prince cried out, but not in pain; rather, an amazing astonishment occurred as the intense energies pulsated throughout his body. This vitality coursed through the Sword before pouring into every fiber of his being. It raced through his veins like liquid light, awakening strength he had never imagined possible.
Muscle fibers doubled, tripled, and quadrupled as he felt his skin stretching to accommodate the new biceps, triceps, pectoral, quad, and calf muscles. His bones both thickened and lengthened. Sinew expanded. His feet, hands, spine, and torso all grew.
The crystals in the chamber seemed to ring in a harmonious song.
One after another, they illuminated until the entire Heart of Grayskull shone brighter than the heavens themselves.
The stone beneath Adam’s feet were smoking, but no damage appeared from the alteration of the boy into a man.
His body rose from the floating platform, suspended within the torrent of power.
The garments of a carefree prince dissolved into streams of light before reforming into the ancient raiment of Eternia’s champion.
A bronze harness was fastened to his chest by leather straps that formed an X. A crimson sigil was at the center of this contraption, forming a sort of rudimentary breastplate. Fur lined mighty boots and gauntlets. Where his hair had been blond before, the strands had been altered to be closer to that of gold.
Where Prince Adam had stood, he had been replaced by a warrior who nearly reached seven feet in height and almost three hundred and fifty pounds of pure muscle.
Like heat from a forge, steam and might created a layer around his skin to make him appear all the more impressive.
The Sword of Power rested comfortably within one hand, and Adam knew he would no longer have to fear the battles ahead, no matter what they were.
His body was not the only thing changed. His voice had deepened into a powerful baritone? He could not be sure. Music was not one of his studies, yet he knew he sounded like a man of great wisdom and insight.
He looked down at himself in silent disbelief. He flexed, opening and closing his hands as if to verify that they belong to him.
Sorceress regarded him with quiet satisfaction.
“Well done, Prince Adam. You are now the Champion of Grayskull: He-Man.”
He looked toward her then back to himself. To say he was surprised would have been the understatement of a lifetime.
“My body...”
His own voice shocked him again, making him understand the depth of the transformation. More clearly, he could hear the baritone and bass in his voice, and he settled more on the former being the sound rather than the latter.
“Within you, the power already dwelt within you, for within your spirit was greatness, Prince Adam,” Sorceress replied. “Grayskull has awakened what was waiting to be found beneath the vestiges of a prince.”
Before he could speak again, her expression changed. She closed her eyes.
A pool of water swirled in the air, and an image of the palace he had grown up in was on fire.
King Randor battling a warrior whose flesh had long since surrendered to death. Sorceress opened her eyes.
“Skeletor has breached the palace.”
He tightened his grip upon the Sword of Power.
“My father...”
“There is still time to hear what needs to be said and for you to save your father.”
He turned to jump free of the place.
“Wait.”
Sorceress’s voice stopped him.
“There is one final burden you must bear.”
He turned his head back towards her.
“What? What else is there?”
“The true identity of the champion of Grayskull must remain unknown.”
He frowned.
“I don’t understand.”
“The power you wield can inspire greatness in others, but while He-Man is nearly indestructible,” she said kindly, “Prince Adam is mortal.”
Her words settled heavily upon him.
“If the forces of evil discover that He-Man and Adam are one and the same, they will not seek to defeat only the champion but those he cares about so as to make He-Man vulnerable.”
Images flashed through his mind of his mother, father, Teela, Man-at-Arms, and the people like Orko and Mekaneck. While some were warriors, not everyone would be on guard all the time, and they should not be expected to do so.
At last, the great warrior gave a solemn nod.
“I do understand, Sorceress.”
Sorceress raised her staff.
“Then go, He-Man.”
A warm wind swept through the Heart of Grayskull, carrying with it the distant sounds of battle, yet the conclusion of such a contest had already been decided. How simple a thing it was for a hero to arise and villainy to be vanquished.
For the first time, the Champion of Eternia sprang into action.
Duncan was surprised when he saw what Prince Adam had turned into.
“There’s no time to explain right now. We need to get back to the palace,” the hero exclaimed.
Man-at-Arms trusted him, and though the hero was faster and stronger, they bounded for the hover-vehicles together.
They made their way back to the palace, and it was then that they knew they could talk.
“So are you Prince Adam?”
“Yes and no,” came the reply. “The sword,” he said, motioning to the weapon his back, “altered me to be this version of myself. Sorceress called me ‘He-Man’.”
“And the others cannot know you’re He-Man?”
“She did say that would not be wise,” He-Man replied. “I do not know what kind of lie I could come up with, Man-at-Arms. If Adam goes missing every time He-Man shows up, people will figure it out.”
Duncan had to think a moment because Prince Adam was right.
“Maybe we can say that there is a connection between you and He-Man?”
“How so?”
“Rather than you are He-Man, we can say there is a spell that Sorceress casts to summon a hero from Preternia, and that hero is He-Man, but Prince Adam must enter Castle Grayskull to stay with Sorceress as bringing a hero from Preternia requires a lot of magic.”
“Are you sure that will work?” He-Man wondered.
“We need an answer. If you’re always running off to go and get He-Man, you’re right. Everyone will know. We need something that explains why you two can’t be in the same place at the same time. The rest comes down to being gone long enough that nobody does the math, but short enough to make a difference.”
Randor staggered backward, his sword arm trembling. He had not done such prolonged back in a long time, and Skeletor was only playing with him.
The duel had taken its toll upon them both, but the king was but a man, and this Skeletor appeared tireless. The fires burning within the empty sockets of his skull seemed only to brighten as the battle continued.
The ram-headed Havoc Staff rose into the air.
“So predictable,” Skeletor sneered. “You were always the dutiful soldier; now, you’re just a noble king.”
Dark energies gathered around the crimson gem set within the staff’s twisted horns.
“You have spent your entire life protecting others,, but you can’t even save yourself.”
His skeletal grin widened. With a violent sweep of the Havoc Staff, Skeletor unleashed a torrent of yellow sorcery.
The spell struck Randor squarely in the chest. Golden bands of light erupted around the King, spiraling over one another until they formed a brilliant sphere suspended above the fractured marble floor.