A world without He-man

[Skeletor]

Skeletor watched intently as the Asgardian created three mounts for them. He had no concept of the place called Camelot, but judging from the garb of the Thunderer, and of the boy that Thor seemed determined to protect, Skeletor could assume it would not be dissimilar to the Eternia that he had sought to conquer for so long. The rainbow ball shimmered and glowed, its glow casting shimmering reflections on the assembled primes, as the mounts began to take shape.
 Omnilium had many uses it seemed, and Skeletor Idly summoned his own, watching the swirling rainbow dance in his clawed hand. His gaze drifted to the scorched stain that smoked nearby. The Stormtrooper had not survived long under the concentrated lightning, even his armor had been all but eradicated. He himself had received similar treatment from the God of Thunder, and survived. It was quite clear that the Asgardian possessed raw power in a sense that even he could appreciate.
 The other two seemed less impressive, the boy was half-dead after a simple laser shot, and the girl refused to take the situation seriously. The green-haired waif seemed to possess some sort of power that she didn’t use for some reason, like she was afraid of it; the weakling. Skeletor turned his attention back to the only real threat now that the white soldiers had run off. Their power was certainly stronger than the Eternian guards that Skeletor was used to, but not dangerous enough that they posed any sort of serious threat to one such as him. The world, the warriors, those may change, but in the end the game stayed very much the same.
 
The horses whinnied and pawed the ground of the Nexus, nostrils flaring as the beasts adapted to their monochrome surroundings. This power was truly something to be explored! The Asgardian placed the wounded boy on one of the steeds. He was clearly untrusting of Skeletor, as well he should be, since in Skeletor’s weakened state they were evenly matched. Yet despite the beating he had just received he still offered Skeletor a horse. A true hero… that could be useful… Skeletor mused.  
There was a distant humming, and all heads turned to note the swift approach of more stormtroopers. Support had arrived.
 
Swiftly the God of Thunder sounded a retreat, and the primes mounted. Skeletor found himself wishing for his battle chariot, or perhaps his favorite pet Panthor, as the motions of the galloping horse were unfamiliar and awkward beneath him as it rushed across the unyielding floor of the Nexus. They were being hotly pursued, and Skeletor was already mildly surprised at the endurance of the beasts to continue sprinting this long. He watched his surroundings, the troopers were some seventy meters behind them at this point, and Skeletor couldn’t be sure whether or not they were gaining in this flat white world. A couple of their war sleds were double-manned, and a few of the passengers seemed to be attempting to line up sniper shots, though the speed of the chase made aiming their attacks quite difficult.
Far off in the distance, Skeletor thought he could see another group approaching them from the front. It was too far off to make out more than their number, but it seemed to be about a dozen warriors also on horseback. The Green-haired girl seemed to have noticed them too, for she was no longer watching their pursuers and instead was trying to make out details about the approaching group.
“Friends of yours, Asgardian?” he asked the Thunderer with a slight chuckle. The Prince of Asgard was either unable to hear him over the clatter of hooves, or was pointedly ignoring his question. Skeletor refocused his attention on the distant warriors, this was a trap, and plainly so. With those warriors to aid him, Thor would likely be able to subdue the Sorcerer with only minor difficulties, then cart him off to whatever dungeon they felt like. Heroes can be so predictable he thought with another chuckle, I will play your game Thunderer, but know that I will beat you at it in the end!