Well, here it is: the new revision. And to think, the last time I touched this thing was in '07. If you skip to the other chapters you can definitely see the difference. Hopefully I get the rest of this revised before you do that, though.

Disclaimer: I did not create nor do I own anything to do with either Fushigi Yuugi or Sailor Moon. All rights belong to Yu Watase and Naoko Takeuchi. I do not make any money for the writing of this story.

Usagi ran as fast as she could. Her destination was not important; all that mattered was to get away. She gathered the tattered flaps that remained of her shirt, holding them over exposed areas. Fresh signs of a healthy beating displayed her as one of the most common and tragic clichés in a woman's existence.

'It wasn't him...' Her inner voice was distant, as if her own thoughts were but a well-intentioned lie.

She passed the Crown Arcade without a glance, catching the attention of a certain employee who banked on her ritual presence. Her disheveled state caught his attention and he pressed his face against the window to watch as she fled.

She stumbled up the porch and stormed through the front door, nearly tripping up the stairs in her rush to the bedroom. Once inside, she slumped against the door and sank to her knees. Ironically, she marveled at how one could cry so much without the slightest reprieve. Even for the amount of wailing she belted out on a daily basis, there was normally an ebb and flow, an intermission of sorts, but today she wept steadily, the overwhelming ache in her chest relentless and unceasing.

"Mamo-chan?" He sat up in his bed, unashamed of his nakedness before her. He let his head loll back as he sighed, grunting an acknowledged response. Her smile was sheepish, forced as she stared at his bare back. She traced a slender, tentative finger down the crease of his spine. He noticeably stiffened, but perhaps it was the air conditioner. She opened her mouth, but hesitated a moment before she found her voice. "What do you think we'll be like years from now?" At this, he cocked his brow in a pinched expression.

"Why do you ask?" He forced a level tone, though she hadn't noted the strain.

Usagi shrugged and propped up on one elbow, resting her head in her palm. "I don't know. I suppose I'd just like to know your perspective."

He mentally rolled his eyes at the stupidity of her question. Everyone knew what their future held, there wasn't a shred of autonomy in the paths laid before them.

Mamoru stood from the bed and gathered his strewn clothes from the floor. Usagi sat up uncomfortably as she watched him dress, his actions birthing a sudden embarrassing shame that urged her to dress as well, to which she crawled from the bed and did hastily.

Mamoru turned to look at her with empty eyes – a gaze that Usagi recognized in silent horror – those hollow, lifeless eyes. His mannerisms changed with his eyes as he carried himself like a stranger, one who'd just seen her, touched her. She felt vulnerable, violated and terrified, her anger buried somewhere beneath all her shame.

"M-Mamo-chan?" She took subtle, cautious steps in retreat, and he quirked his head, a new found look of arrogance in those malleable eyes.

"Do you know what I think, darling?" He sauntered up, slowly closing in on her until she bumped into the wall. She frantically scanned the room for an exit and she found it a mere three feet to her right. Usagi dashed for the door, but her head recoiled suddenly in a painful jolt from the roots of her hair. She stumbled into his grasp and he quickly bashed her head into the wall.

Usagi crumbled to the floor in a heap and Mamoru crouched over her, tenderly cradling her head in one hand as he watched her begin to snivel with mild intrigue. "I think that this is how things should go: you will do as I tell you, and if you resist..." He paused a moment to comb his fingers through her blond locks. "There will be trouble," he grinned, "for you."

Her brows knit crudely and she bit her lip to stifle a whimper, her tears finally spilling across her temples to pool in the conch of each ear. His grin faded and he scooped her into a tight embrace. "There, there, my little thing," she grimaced at these alien hypocorisms but kept silent, her body stiff against this stranger's unwelcome touch.

"What do you want?" Her question was a trembling whisper.

He gave her that grin and she suppressed the urge to show him her disgust. "Simple, love." He placed his free hand on her stomach and slowly slid his touch up to rest between her breasts. "Your heart."

Usagi's eyes widened in terror as she slapped her own hands over his, but there was nothing underneath; her brooch wasn't there. She heard Mamoru chuckle as she darted her eyes all over the room to find the thing nestled safely in the sheets of the bed.

"Too bad, darling." His hand slid from her chest to seize her throat and she kicked her feet on a hysterical impulse. He easily subdued her flailing and removed his hand from behind her head, drawing it back like a weapon to be plunged straight into her.

Usagi screamed, her body contorting in a seizure of indescribable pain. Blackness pooled in a mote around the hand buried in her chest. Her eyes glazed and her seizing ebbed into a sporadic series of involuntary twitching.

"Serenity!" The voice was clear, but unfamiliar. She couldn't move, couldn't speak or see, she could only listen. "Fight." A burst of crimson squelched the darkness before her and the silhouette of a man approached her in a disciplined gait. His robes were as red as his hair, trimmed in gold and white. He was so regal in this gaudy attire, alternating shades of red reminding her of something she couldn't quite place. She looked into his eyes, a deeper red than either hair or robe. 'Blood,' she thought, 'blood, everywhere.' She remembered she was dying but couldn't remember how to function.

A fit of convulsion tore the man from her thoughts and a familiar warmth ghosted over her forehead. A rich carmine pooled in the black of her chest, swiftly drowning the mote to crawl up her assailant's arm like a coat of paint.

Mamoru's vessel yelped, yanked his arm from within her and hastily staggered to his feet, finding purchase against the wall to remain upright.

Usagi hadn't moved, but found herself helped upright by invisible hands, the same warmth that graced her forehead gently caressed her cheek and she was reminded of a lover's touch – it spread from her cheek to engulf her person, and as she finally raised her hand in recovered versatility, she saw the soft hue of red that must have immersed her like an aura.

Her wits finally caught up with her new-found mobility and she darted for the bed, quickly screaming the words that would make her transform but she was cut short when Mamoru crashed into her.

She'd escaped by the skin of her teeth, but not without a dirty fight. Her eyes never dried during her recollection, and it was all she could do to keep the fresh memory of his abuse from replaying on an endless loop like an infectious song.

Usagi wiped her eyes, took a deep breath and let out a controlled sigh. She sat in silence for several moments. She scanned the room and rested her sight on the school bag propped on the floor at the foot of her bed. She chewed over her lip as she stared at the thing, and after some time she eventually willed herself to move. She went right to the closet to pull a backpack from the mess she kept inside. She tore through her room, cramming anything she thought useful into her pack.

When she finished, Usagi paused to take in her surroundings. She peered around until her reflection spotted her with stunned, red eyes. She approached the mirror over her dresser and swept unsettled fingers over her damaged face; a gash at her forehead from the wall, a bruised eye from wayward fists – her hands wandered down to her chest where her shirt had tattered. She peeled back the stray bits of cloth to eye where she'd been penetrated – where the inky mote once pooled was now occupied by a colorful bruise that encompassed nearly the entirety of space between her clavicle and breasts. She curled her lip, wincing as she gingerly poked. It would certainly take some time to heal.

She tore her shirt off to find a replacement, but what she really needed first was a shower. She grabbed her supplies, wrapped herself in a towel and headed for the door.

"Usagi-chan?" The feline's lilting voice was tired with sleep; she could be heard stretching from the bed. Usagi froze at the door, clutching the handle in wait.

"Yes, Luna? What is it?" She forced a chipper tone, whether or not it was convincing, she didn't know.

Luna yawned. "Where are you off to?"

"I'm going to take a shower before I... go to Mako-chan's. We're baking cookies tonight."

Luna cringed at the thought of Usagi's hand in any culinary endeavor. "Oh. Well, have fun. Remember to bring your school bag. Your homework won't do itself, as I'm sure your test scores will remind you."

Michiru floated on her back and gazed lazily up at the sky. Haruka was at the edge of the pool, lightly swishing her feet against the still water. She let her gaze blur amidst the ripples that echoed from her limbs to wake the still water beyond. Her legs settled as Michiru nestled between them, her teal hair tickling her inner thigh as she kissed there gently.

She looked up at the blond with a tender smile. "You seem distracted." She noted, patient for her partner's response. Haruka opened her mouth with some hesitation but she found no words. She looked down at the beauty in the water and smiled. "You miss her?" Haruka nodded.

Michiru took her lover's wrists and waded back, inviting the blond into the water. Haruka slipped in without hesitation and swam up to her partner. "I miss her, too." Michiru empathized, snaking her arms around Haruka's neck and pressing her forehead to her lover's. Haruka gathered her about the waist and pulled her in. "Why don't we go see her today? It is Sunday, maybe she's free." Haruka nodded and kissed her.

"I don't know why, but I feel so... anxious." Michiru's brows knit as her lover wearily spoke. "I feel like, maybe something's happened."

"Miaka's devastated. Can't we find some way to bring her back?" Tamahome paced the emperor's throne room.

"Yui doesn't want to come back, Tama. We have to consider that she might not be an ally anymore." Chiriko's words stung, but there was truth in them. Yui's decision no doubt needed to be shared with Miaka, if only he could spare her the painful knowledge of her best friend as quite possibly a new enemy.

Tamahome plopped on the stairs to the throne with a defeated sigh. He rested his chin on a balled fist, searching for a solution. He already knew Yui was willing to couple with Seiryu, which automatically made her a threat.

Nuriko settled next to him on the stairs. "Don't worry, Tama-kens. We'll think of something!" The effeminate male's dainty voice betrayed the strength behind the reassuring slap he dealt Tamahome's back, as this well-intended gesture sent him straight to the floor. "Heh, sorry, Tama-kens."

Tamahome staggered unceremoniously to his feet. "Sorry nothing! Watch your strength, damn it!" An awkward silence filled the room and he headed for the door with an aggravated sigh. "I'm going for a walk."

"Yuuichirou! For the love of god, answer the phone! It's a lot easier than pretending to use a broom!" Rei shouted from her room. "Lazy burnout," she grumbled under her breath, "if the thing was attached to a lighter and a bowl he'd be all over it." She turned back to the fire to regain her concentration. A few meager taps at the door was enough to boil her temper and she flung from her seat and tore the sliding door open. She bore angrily into Yuuichirou's scruffy face as he held the phone before her in a cowardly fashion. She snatched it from him and shooed him off as one might a needy pet.

"Hello?"

"Oh, Rei! Thank goodness. I'm sorry to interrupt if you're busy but..." The voice on the other end silenced one a quivering note, the sound of a desperate attempt to stave a breakdown.

"Mrs. Tsukino? What's wrong?"

Ikuko shook her head, a foolish blush reminding her to speak. "Is Usagi with you by any chance?"

Rei paled and pursed her lips. "No, she's not. Has something happened? Is she okay?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out, but I'm afraid I'm stirring up a panic. She hasn't been gone long, but she always checks in, and her room is a disaster."

"Well, that's really nothing new, Mrs. Tsukino." Rei tried playfully.

"This is different, Rei. Her drawers are torn open, clothes are missing, her shoes aren't in the foyer and I haven't found a note. I called all the girls and they haven't seen her today. Why would she leave without telling me?" Her tone ended on a desperately demanding timbre, sniffling now but not yet broken down.

"How long as she been gone?"

"Since I got home at five, probably longer. She went to see Mamoru this morning but he's not answering my calls."

"Alright. It's okay, Mrs. Tsukino. I'll find her, I promise." Ikuko nodded and squeaked an emotional thank you before hesitantly hanging up.

Rei checked the time and a sickly panic soured stomach. 8:00 pm. For all she knew, Usagi could have been missing all day. She flipped open her watch and dialed.

Ami flinched at the sudden ringing from her watch and flipped it open.

"Where is Usagi?" Ami forced patience over Rei's overbearing tone.

"We don't know yet, we haven't found her. We've only just started searching. Mamoru's nowhere to be seen, either. Meet us at the park as soon as you can, the outer senshi are on their way."

Rei dropped the phone she hadn't realized she was still holding and stormed from the temple.

"I feel so foolish." Luna spat as she paced the path between Minako's leg's.

"Calm down, Luna." Makoto offered and knelt down to smooth the frazzled cat's bristling fur. "It's not your fault, you didn't know." The gesture was a meager comfort at best. Artemis hopped from his perch on Mina's shoulder and nuzzled Luna tenderly.

"I couldn't live with myself if something happened to the princess." Michiru whispered gravely. Haruka sat in the grass with her lover's head in her lap, combing weary fingers through her teal hair in a silent effort to calm her.

"None of us would be able to." Haruka affirmed, her voice strained and angry. She pounded a fist into the earth. "It's our job to look after her! How have we become so lax?"

Ami clapped a hand over her mouth as guilt washed over her.

"Things have been peaceful for months..." Mina tried meekly. "We've all been so caught up –"

"In what?" Haruka demanded.

"In having a normal life for once!" She quipped defensively.

Guilt silently spread through the group like a virus, affecting each individual on a different scale.

The argument ceased as Rei was seen thundering down the grassy hill to meet the group. She stopped in the congregation at the base of the field and nearly doubled over.

"I ran – " she crouched, hands over knees as she desperately huffed and gasped, " – all the way here."

"All the way from the temple?" Makoto sounded impressed.

"Now," Artimus started, "where have we all searched?"

"I checked the diner." Makoto offered.

"I checked at the school." The group stared her down in baffled and somewhat judgmental silence and Ami suddenly felt as vulnerable as a mouse amongst a den of snakes. "... It's the last place any of us would look?" Her meager suggestion seemed to ebb the crowd's confusion and they moved on, much to her relief.

"First place I checked was the arcade. She hadn't been there today, but Furu-chan said he saw her hurry by. He said she looked upset..." Mina paused as she felt the heavy weight of anxiety constrict her insides. "He said he wasn't sure, but that he thought she looked like she'd been in a scuffle. He played it down, but he looked pretty grave when he told me."

Horror swept through the group and everyone was suddenly talking at once.

"What about Endymion?" Michiru shouted over the sea of frantic bickering. "No one thought to ask him where she might be?"

"I spoke to Ikuko before I came." Rei announced. "She said she'd been ringing him all morning and he never picked up."

"Did anyone actually go to Mamoru's to see if she was there?" It was Artemis who spoke.

Mina timidly raised her hand to the crowd, "I did. She wasn't there either, and neither was he. I think they're both missing."

'What am I doing here?'

Usagi was huddled in the corner of a dark room, flashes of a familiar red glow having led her here like a trail of breadcrumbs. The hue appeared in bursts of scarlet at the corner of her eye – the sight of it disappeared as soon as she focused in, but it was close enough in her periphery to assure her that it wasn't her imagination and she followed keenly

It was here in this very reference room – chalked full of old forgotten things – that the trail ran cold. She didn't need to see into the dark to recognize the room's disuse, she inhaled deeply and took in the scent of age and neglect; musty pages and thick layers of dust long since settled. She sneezed and eyed the gentle shaft of light that spilled through the room's only window, idly watching as particles wafted about like feathers in the wind.

The light from the library outside the room seemed nearly blinding in contrast to this dark pocket of space, but she found solace in the retreat of somewhere unknown.

Usagi jumped at the echo of a heavy thud and the quick rustling of pages. She approached the sound on all fours, blindly sweeping her hands over the floor until she felt the stray book. She opened the thing and flipped through the pages before scooting under the room's only light.

Her brows knit at the foreign scribe and she clicked her tongue. There was no way she could read the book. She remembered lectures in Chinese at school, but she was never interested in learning a second language, much less one more complicated than her first tongue.

Usagi shielded her eyes as the door opened, the small shaft of light bursting into an offensive flare that invaded the room. The silhouette lingered in the threshold, but she couldn't see the person's face to read why.

"Usagi?" Rei. It was a pained, unforbearing tone.

Usagi didn't answer, only lowered her hand as her eyes began to adjust. Her face came into focus and she was surprised to find not anger, but an sharp-set anxiety in those otherwise peevish, violet eyes.

"Usagi – " Her voice caught against a searing ball in her throat. Usagi's face; scraped brow, split lip, black eye... Anger boiled inside her and threatened to spill from her lips like stinking, acrid vomit, but Usagi would never have understood that it wasn't for her. Rei held it back, instead allowing her sadness to show her vulnerability, her latent sympathy. She closed the door and knelt before the blond, gentle fingers ghosting over her face. "Who?"

"Mamoru."

"What? Mamoru – "

"It wasn't Mamoru. I mean, it was Mamoru, but it wasn't him." Usagi's tone was eerily flat.

Rei nodded, this certainly wasn't the first time they'd witnessed or experienced puppeteering. She cleared her throat. "What happened?"

"He tried to take my heart crystal." The girl's brows furrowed, but it's all she allowed.

Rei pursed her lips and nodded. "You're right, it wasn't him. He would never do that. Do you know where he is?"

Usagi shook her head numbly.

"That's all right, Usagi. Let's just get you out of he– "

"I don't want to go home." She grasped at Rei's arm desperately, tears so readily pooled in her eyes.

"Don't worry, Usagi," she cooed, "you'll stay with me tonight."

Shin snapped in Tomo's palm and he looked to the general. "What do you think, Nakago?" The blond bowed his head in silent thought.

"Is it real?" Soi wondered, simply dazzled by the spectacle before them just moments ago. The lights, the buildings, so many things she didn't understand. It was all so fast, so noisy and magical – an overwhelming and beautiful enigma.

Yui nodded but was hardly amused, tears pooling at the corners of her listless eyes as she yawned mid-nod. "It's Tokyo, Japan, 1995."

Soi nearly faltered, working to mentally estimate the years. "That's..."

"Almost eight-hundred years." Yui noted casually.

"A most interesting place." Nakago admitted, rewarding the priestess with the briefest flash of a smile. Knots tightened to mull her insides, cheeks suddenly feverish with delight. Yui wouldn't notice Soi's hands, balled and trembling at her sides, nor Suboshi's mute but certainly roiling fury as the general's arm snaked about the blond's waist.

Miaka was nestled in the warmth of her lover's arms, a place where things were always right with the world.

The meadow was lush, vast and quiet. The grass was thick but not wild, flocked by chrysanthemum and peony that dappled the field in gentle hues of pink and red. Few trees breached beyond the forest's border, those that had were solitary things sparsely dotting the otherwise open field.

At the edge of this vast patch of land was the still body of the lake. Lotus bloomed here too, floating beautifully at the surface as if to mask the drab color of the murky water.

At the shoreline, the couple was nestled at the trunk of an old willow, its lavish curtains swaying nimbly against the gentle caress of the wind.

In the moment, there was only this beautiful place. There were no troubles to disturb its serenity, no people to disquiet the lull of nature surrounding them. She felt left alone, grateful that she could finally breathe.

"We never have much time alone, do we?" Miaka observed as she leaned into Tamahome.

"No." He agreed, his tone dripping sweet. He looked down at her, beyond the contented smile she wore. "Are you going to be alright?"

Her puzzled gaze wandered up to find him somber. "What do you mean?"

Tamahome took a moment and let out a sigh. "I can only imagine how it must feel – the one person you trust most in the world suddenly so... different.

"We've all been through so much – your situation is no better or worse – but it's different than what I've ever experienced. I understand, I can sympathize... I can't empathize and that hurts me. I can't imagine what it would be like if someone I trusted, someone I loved just, turned on me."

Miaka strayed from his embrace and smiled painfully. His lips eased her pain and she returned his kiss somewhat desperately. He took her face in his hands, "I will always be here, Miaka. I'll do everything I can to make it right. I'll get Yui back, no matter what it takes. I love you."

His declaration easily thwarted any attempt she'd made to save face as felt the last of her resolve shatter like cheap glass. Miaka opened her mouth to speak but instead burst into tears.

"Is the water hot enough?" Rei's question echoed outside the bathroom and the blond acknowledged her gratefully.

Usagi curled up in the tub. She'd been so sore, but the hot water did well to sooth her straight down to her weary bones.

A gnarly gash ran across her belly and she dipped her hand under the pool to trace around its corners. Her digits tracked its length from hip to navel and her palm instinctively rested there, just below.

'Chibi-Usa.'

"So, what could we be dealing with here?" Makoto looked around the room to survey the group's mutual obfuscation.

"Heart snatchers, it sounded like." Rei offered.

"But, I thought we took care of Professor Tomoe?" Exasperation strained Michiru's otherwise assuasive voice, and Rei could only shrug as the girls suddenly burst into a roaring murmur of upset.

"I can't believe Mamoru-san would do such a thing..." Ami's words were halfhearted; she knew the truth, but was unable to keep her tongue at bay.

"It wasn't Mamoru." Rei sharply reminded them. "We have to remember that he's in just as much, if not more danger than Usagi right now. This isn't the first time he's been used as a puppet – he is the quickest route to Usagi's demise – Let's not forget about Queen Beryl."

The girls collectively agreed, recollection and understanding weaving through each person.

"Have you called Ikuko yet?" Artemis wondered, and Rei shook her head. "When will you?"

"I don't know yet. Her wounds are superficial, but I think the majority of her damage is emotional – I'm not sure having her mother breathe down her neck is the best thing for her right now."

"Did you notice her cuts?" Mina questioned, "almost like a lash. I don't think they were big enough to be from a standard whip, but the welt around the rim of the cut looks like she may have been struck by something similar."

Usagi toweled off and went to work combing through sodden, tangled locks. She made a point to ignore her reflection; the girl in the mirror was hunched and pathetic, sporting bright, angry gashes and colorful bruises that blared against a milky palette of flesh.

Fresh memories taunted the recesses of her mind, urging her to pull them to the forefront. She desperately fought it back, counting obsessively in her mind to drown it out; one, two, three, four...

Hair now tangle free, she dressed quickly, sure to count still, louder to drown it out, thirty-six, thirty-seven, thirty-eight!

She made her way toward the tumult of bickering voices down the hall, and to her annoyance, they fell silent the instant her approach was heard. She stifled a sigh and hesitantly pulled back the door to enter the room. All eyes zeroed in, watching intently – they waited for her to shatter like the pieces of reassembled china before the glue was done drying. Usagi tried a smile, and eight half-cocked smiles reflected perfectly the awkwardness of the moment. She finally let go of that sigh took a seat at the table. She reached for an empty cup and it was filled almost instantly. She took a swig and hummed her delighted approval; the tea was full bodied, hot and relaxing in her stomach.

"Princess?"

Usagi trained her gaze on Michiru, who was predictably huddled in her lover's embrace, and unconsciously winced at the display.

"Are you feeling better?" Michiru asked. The blond simply nodded as she and Haruka worked to mask a strained expression. The tension was obviously thick, her silence seemingly unbreakable.

Usagi seemed to notice this and her gaze wandered back to the table. She could feel everyone's urge to question her, to know the details of what happened, but they wouldn't ask – not directly – and she didn't want to share. All she wanted was –

"The book..." Usagi pointed dumbly at the thing set beside the tea set. She felt silly that she hadn't noticed it sooner, but she plucked it from the table and ran her hand over it's face. "I can't exactly read Chinese." She stated plainly.

Ami leaned forward and kindly gestured for the book and Usagi held back the urge to roll her eyes. She handed it over and the mousy genius glanced at the title. "The Universe of the Four Gods by Einosuke Okuda." She opened to the first page and hesitated a moment, looking curiously up at Usagi before eventually skimming through the book's entirety. "These pages are blank..." Curious, the girls huddled around the table for a peak.

"What? It can't be." Usagi reached eagerly for the thing.

"It is, I promise." The group was a mixture of avid nodding and murmured agreement with Ami's baffled claim. Nonetheless, she handed the book over and to Usagi's disappointment, she discovered that the pages were in fact blank.

Her shoulders slumped in a full bodied frown. "I don't understand," she said, "I could have sworn there was something good inside."

"How can you make such a judgment off a title you can't even read?" Rei hadn't meant the question to come off as odious, but her question was earnest and involuntary and it spilled out before she thought to sensor its delivery.

"I was following something." Usagi offered faintly and gestured to the book. "I thought maybe this meant something." She flipped back to the first page and stared at the empty passage with a heavy heart; this thing had been a nice distraction from her real problems, and now she couldn't escape.

Her disappointment was quickly snuffed by an utter disbelief at the sight of the wet ink drying on the aged parchment in the beginnings of a fresh passage.

"The book!" Usagi cried out. "It's writing!" The girls flocked the other side of the table in a tight knit group over her shoulders, peering in baffled amazement as the words filled the page. "I can read it!" She exclaimed. "Why is it in Japanese? The title was Chinese." Baffled, she looked to Ami for an answer whom, at a complete loss, could only shrug.

"Read it!"

"This is the story of the princess who single-handedly aids the priestesses of south and east, who gather the celestial stars of their respective god and gain the power to make all her dreams come true. The story itself is an incantation, and whomever reads it gains the main character's power to have their wishes granted. Because once the first page is turned, the story will become real and begin." Usagi looked up at the girls from behind and Rei exchanged a knowing glance with the outer senshi.

"Odango," Haruka warned, "I don't think it's wise to con– "

But Usagi had already turned the first page.

In a stinging instant, light erupted from the book and flooded the room. The girls all shirked from the obnoxious jab at their sight, hands and arms shielding their eyes.

The light slowly ebbed into something less abrasive and Usagi tentatively lowered her arm. It was hot out, and she discovered the horrendous light to be the sun, hanging large and angry overhead, working gradually to tenderize her pale skin.

"What the…"

It was so hot, seemingly more so below than overhead – pain abruptly registered as she took in the searing desert beneath her unprotected feet, the hot sand lapping ravenously at her heels like a forked tongues from hell. Usagi yelped and hopped agonizingly from foot to foot, finding the nearest cover of shade by a tall and prickly cactus.

"Where..." Her eyes darted all around her, but there was no end to the unforgiving desert.