Standing at the end of a long, terrifyingly symmetrical hall was White Pearl—her face cracked, her movement robotic and eerie. She didn't speak; she simply gestured.
To do it, they needed a ship. But not just any ship. Yellow’s was a wreck; Blue’s was buried in the shoreline. They needed the centerpiece. They needed the legs.
As they exited warp, the planet appeared. Homeworld wasn't a sphere anymore; it was a cracked, hollowed-out husk, glowing with a sickly white artificial light. Thousands of ships swarmed like angry hornets. As the pink legs touched down on the central spire, the sheer scale of the Diamond Authority became clear. [S5E25] Legs From Here to Homeworld
"I'm Steven," he said, for what felt like the thousandth time. But he knew names didn't matter right now. Only the truth did. He looked at the Corrupted Gems nearby—the monsters that used to be his mother's friends, now howling and mindless. "We have to fix them. You did this, but you can undo it. Together."
"Hello, Starlight," White’s voice boomed, vibrating in Steven’s very bones. It wasn't the voice of a monster, but the voice of a mother speaking to a toddler who had just finished a long, messy tantrum. "You certainly gave us all a scare. I trust you've had your fun? Did you get it all out of your system?" Standing at the end of a long, terrifyingly
"I'm here to fix the Gems," Steven shouted, his voice tiny in the vast hall.
She was gargantuan, her form so bright it lacked shadows. She didn't look down at Steven; she looked through him. But not just any ship
"Steven," Pearl whispered, leaning against the translucent pink hull. "Homeworld... it isn't like Earth. It’s a machine. It’s a hierarchy. Don't let her see you blink."