“OW!”
Frog sat up. He was on a high bed in an almost luminous white room. He was dressed in a new suit of bright white Kroakan armour, that fitted him like a glove and smelled of fresh laundry.
“What the … what?” Frog mumbled. He spotted a small circular window in the wall and peered out. Far below he could see the Inbetween, glistening silver. “Where am I? This had better not be more UnSlumber, I’m sick of all that real or not real bumdrops!”
“I can assure you, the Farthership is very real,” said a voice.
At the far end of the room the doorway was open. Major Krung was flanked by two troopers. They were all dressed in bright white versions of their Kroakan armour. The major was holding Basil Rathbone. She held out the sword to Frog. “Here you are. Your weapon has been decontaminated … as have you. King Kroak is very particular about foreign particles.”
“Is it true?” Frog began, taking his sword. “Did King Kroak let the bragons go?”
“They’re safe … for now,” Major Krung replied. “Please come with me.”
The major led Frog through gleaming white corridors, one after the other. Finally they stopped outside a circular door, which slid open.
“After you, my Prince,” said the major. “And welcome to your destiny.”
Frog stepped inside. He found himself inside a bright, white chamber, bigger than any room in the royal palace. A window occupied the entire far wall, looking out over the sky. And facing the window was a great white throne.
“Welcome to my humble home-stroke-world-destroying spaceship,” said a voice.
The throne turned slowly, until it faced Frog. Upon it sat a figure dressed in a bright white cloak with a hood covering his face.
“King Kroak…” said Frog. “We meet at last. Show yourself!”
King Kroak reached two woolly hooves up to his head and lowered his hood. Frog’s eyes grew wide.
His trusty steed stared back at him.
“Sheriff Explosion?” Frog shrieked. “It’s not… You’re not… It can’t be!”
“Baa!” bleated the sheep.
“You’re King Kroak?” Frog blurted, his head spinning. “What the bumbles is—”
“Baa! Baahahaha!” The sheep seemed to burst into laughter as a shimmering haze engulfed him. As the haze cleared, Frog’s mouth fell open. The real King Kroak stood before him. He was immense – a towering titan, taller than any Kroakan Frog had ever seen. The King’s skin was a bright mottled green, with two long antennae protruding from his forehead, and in place of his robes he wore a spotless suit of white armour.
“Why the long face, Frog? Can’t you take a kroak-cloak joke?” laughed King Kroak, his voice booming and resonant.
“You’re horrible like turnips!” said Frog, drawing Basil Rathbone. “Here comes the defeat!”
The King loomed over him.
“Have you ever wondered why you like defeating things so much?” he asked. He strode to the window,in great, assured steps. “Because right after defeat comes conquest. It’s time to face up to who you are, Frog. Let’s start by getting to know the family…”
King Kroak waved his hand, and the window behind him became a view-screen. Upon it were countless Kroakan faces, each slightly different from the other, but none a day older than Frog.
“Meet your brothers,” said King Kroak. “All nine hundred and ninety-nine of them!”
“They’re my brothers?” blurted Frog, peering at the screen.
“Yep! And no two are alike,” laughed the King, pointing to one of the faces. “Karg here is always conquering outdoors, while Klorr over here likes to plan his conquests from the comfort of his ship… Krorg loves blowing things to pieces, while Kane is all about brain-slaving. And while they’re all merciless conquerors, in their own way, none of them are … me. None of them will ever rule as well as I rule or conquer as well as I conquer or be as hands-down, full-on awe-mazing as I am.”
Before Frog could muster a “Pfff”, King Kroak added, “That’s the problem with being King – eventually someone has to take your place. But then it hit me! What if I could find a way to rule forever?” The King waved his hand, and the images of his nine hundred and ninety-nine sons faded to be replaced with a view of the afternoon sky. “So I found a way to replicate myself.”
“Replicate…?” repeated Frog, not sure what he meant.
“You are more than my son, Frog… You’re me. You’re my exact clone,” said the King with a grin. “You are King Kroak, reborn!”