Mission successful.

Flying through the intense storm, I searched for a forest or grassy terrain, finding next to nothing.
I barely see any vegetation. How does anything survive here without vegetation?

Response: Vegetation detected underground, including artificial sunlight machines located in large caves.
So they live completely in caves. With this weather, I guess that's understandable. Well, are there any spots with even some plants or trees?

Response: Affirmative. Marking location. Voltron says, showing me a crevice shielded from the wind by cliffs.
That'll work. I think, flying towards the gorge in the ground. Landing a couple ticks later, I remove the Bayard from the port in my chest, merging it with my wings moments later.
Form super-wings.

Formation successful: Beginning quintessence amplification. Progression drive at 20%.

My body glows white as I start releasing a small amount of quintessence, letting it soak into the ground before drawing it in again, my heart amplifying the life energy.

(At the same time)

(The Heart)

"Your Eminence. The Burrowgaia occupation has… failed. The White Knight… destroyed all our forces." A Galra lieutenant reports, handing his emperor a data pad, nervously anxious and crestfallen.

"As expected. A measly two fleets wouldn't be enough to stop him, even with the occupation bases." Zarkon remarks, voice dead and apathetic.

"Sire, you… expected the fleets to lose?" The lieutenant asks, baffled.

"They did their duty. Victory or Death. And with their deaths, we have learned so much about our opponent." Zarkon says, looking at the data collected by the hidden jammer satellites.

"You mean, the fleets were nothing but a… diversion? Some experiment?!" The lieutenant shouts, outraged.

"Why else would I send two of my fleets to such a miserable planet? To strengthen my absolute hold on the galaxy? To recruit spies from the pitiful creatures of that planet? No. The fleets did what I sent them there to do. Now, we are another step closer to beating our enemies." Zarkon says, looking at the lieutenant with his glowing yellow eyes.

"My brother was a part of those fleets! And he died just so that you could learn some paltry information?! He was a loyal- AHHAH!" The lieutenant screams, a druid behind him, holding a ball of black energy to his back. Zarkon stands from his throne and looks him in the eye.

"You dare speak to me in such a disrespectful tone? You dare question my authority?" Zarkon glares at the man as he cowers before him.

"N-n-no please, lord Zarkon, I-I-I beg of you, please forg- ARGH!" He screams as the druid shocks him again.

"I ask you a simple question, does this look like paltry information to you?" Zarkons asks, showing him the tablet, now showing restricted information gathered by the satellites.

"Wh-what? What is- AHHHHGH!" He screams again.

"Be silent." The druid warns.

"This is crucial information about our attacker. Our enemy. And this is the last time you'll ever see it." Zarkon says before looking at the druid. "Feed him to the arena beasts. Make sure he says nothing until he is thrown in the pit." Zarkon orders, sit back down on his throne.

"Of course, lord Zarkon." The druid replies, a spell sowing the man's mouth shut, making him try to scream in pain. Zarkon then begins typing on the data pad, his brain concocting new machines, specifically to counter the powers of the White Knight he has seen.

"Begin production of these machines immediately. I want them done in less than a movement, understood?" Zarkons orders.

"At once, your Eminence." The druid says, walking away with the silently screaming former lieutenant.
Not much longer, then I can finally destroy you myself.

(Elsewhere)

(Also at the same time)

"ArE yOu SuRe ThIs Is GoInG tO wOrK?" Extermia asks, scratching marks in the ground.

«Yes. I created these runes myself. You're just making a larger version. Now hurry up, maintaining the connection and showing you the image is draining.» Grogar says, voice slightly strained.

"DoNe. NoW wHaT?" She asks.

«Touch the diamond in the center with a finger from your damaged arm. That will activate the rune.» Grogar instructs.

«Who knew you'd actually become a teacher.» Discord comments.

«Be silent!» Grogar shouts as Extermia strains her broken arm over the circle, being careful to not touch any of the marks. She touches the center, lighting up the glyph with full yellow light.

"It'S wOrKiNg! ThE rUnE iS- AH!" She suddenly screams, her dented arm expanding back into shape. "YoU dIdN't SaY iT wOuLd HuRt!" She snaps.

«It's meant to be used on metals, not living machines! Bare through it, it can't hurt more than getting cut in half.» Grogar retorts.

"GaH. YoU aRe RiGhT aBoUt ThAt. CoMpArEd To ThAt, ThIs Is BaReLy AnYtHiNg." Extermia responds.

«That's the spirit! Now, we're not exactly sure how long it will take for your arm to fix itself, considering that a rune this big has never been made before. So, in light of that, you may need to wait for a while for your arm to repair. While that is happening, you can make the rune to fix your legs!» Discord says jovially.

"AnD hOw Do I mAkE tHaT?" Extermia asks.

«By drawing… this.» Grogar grunts, sending her a new rune.

"AgH, tHiS oNe Is EvEn MoRe CoMpLeX tHaN tHe LaSt OnE!" Extermia laments.

«Quit your whining. If you wish to be fully operational again then you will do it.» Grogar says.

"I dO nOt WhInE!" Extermia shouts.

«Then do as you're told.» Grogar commands.

"FINE!" Extermia yells, beginning to draw the other glyph with her intact hand.

«This rune is supposed to be used to fix armour and weapons but considering your composition, it will work for you too.» Grogar instructs.

"I uNdeRsTaNd. NoW sHuT uP aNd LeT mE fOcUs."

«We shall contact you again in exactly one day. I believe you called it a quintant. If we do not receive a response, we shall assume you dead. Do not make me wait.»

"YoU dOn'T gEt To OrDeR mE aRoUnD!" Extermia shouts as the connection breaks, continuing to draw the rune.
Just you wait, white mechanoid. Just. You. Wait.

(Finally, back on Burrowgaia)

«Attention Diego. Is this Diego?»
Is that the Blades of Marmora?

Response: Affirmative. Frequency matches Marmoran communications.
Respond please.

Command recognized: Responding.

«Attention: Message received.»

«Good. We've received news that you were sent by the commander. From what we just saw, I can see why. However, our commanding officer would like to know what you're doing in that crevice.» The Blade asks.
Tell him that we're recharging and that we can't say how.

Response: Affirmative.

«Answer: User informs you that we are recharging but we cannot divulge how.»

«Recharging? Well, considering all that happened, I guess that's reasonable but why can't you say how?» The Blade asks.

«Response: Information classified.»

«Ah yes. We heard about that too. We have orders not to question that. How long will you take to recharge?»

«Response: Seven doboshes.»

«That's it? How can you recharge so fa- oh wait, don't tell me-»

«Response: Information classified.»

«- classified. Yeah. Well, we'll leave you to your recharging.»

«Courtesy: Thank you.»

«You're welcome.» The Blade says, surprised. A little while later, I materialize outside of orbit, now fully charged.

~~Let's go home.~~

Processing: …Beginning update of mannerism functions.

Author's Note

Update: Go!