Sailor Moon: The Enemy Within?
Disclaimer: This fanfic is written for the sole purpose of free entertainment. No attempt is made in any way, shape or form to garner ownership or profit from the Sailor Senshi, Sephiroth, or Urawa. They are the sole property of Naoko Takeuchi and Squaresoft. Any attempts to sue me will be rewarded with a warm cup of jack squat.
Author's notes: This story takes place approximately a year-and-a-half after the events of my previous work, "Crystal Dreams". If you have not already done so, I highly suggest you leave this story right now, and read that first, as things mentioned here will make a bit more sense in those regards. This fanfic is also dedicated to Jean Lynn, aka princess_5775, for the support and motivational butt kicks she has given me. I love ya, Jean!:) With that said, enjoy the story!
Prologue
It has become a popular saying that we are born into this world cold, wet, and hungry...and then things become worse.
For one man lying out in the wastelands...things may only become worse for those around him.
As the man struggled to return from unconsciousness, he became aware of numerous things almost simultaneously. Due to his analytical mind, he was able to instantly ascertain several things.
One, he felt like crap...but had no immediately apparent injuries.
Two, he was lying face-first on the ground, which was extremely cold. This in itself would not have been unusual, if not for the fact that it was still dirt, and not snow or ice.
And three, judging by the lack of voices nearby, and the howling wind whipping across his body, he was outside.
With a supreme effort, the man opened his eyes and rolled onto his back with a small groan that was snatched away by the fierce winds. A few moments of rest later, he managed to sit up, so as to better survey his surroundings.
Most people, he reflected, would have been shocked or dismayed to have awakened in such a desolate place-one so devoid of not only human life, but ANY life. To the newly awakened stranger, however, it was only another obstacle to overcome on his way to...
The sudden pause in his thought process startled the man, and confusion furrowed his brow as he tried to grasp at his memory. It immediately became a frustrating chore, as he could feel that he was so close...
His head snapped up as a crunch of gravel was heard behind him. Whirling as he leapt to his feet, the man quickly spotted the creatures that had been approaching stealthily, or so they thought. Two creatures that resembled flamboyantly mustachioed lynxes, accompanied by another pair of gray-skinned ogres paused in surprise as they realized that their sneak attack had failed, but emboldened by their advantage, encircled their prey in preparation for an attack.
The man flung his long silver hair back with a single jerk of his head, never taking his eyes off of his opponents for a moment. As he tracked the two creatures that were traversing around him, he spotted a glint of metal on the ground. Risking a brief second to glance at it, he was mildly surprised to discover an extraordinarily long, curved sword laying on the ground. Having no other options as far as a weapon went, the man quickly brandished the blade, noting with detached surprise that his body almost instinctively went into an unorthodox combat stance, the sword held point forward near his face, his body poised sideways, weight on the balls of his feet, and center of gravity kept low.
It was just as well, for with a roar, one of the lynx creatures leapt at the swordsman from behind, it's paws outstretched to pin the human to the ground for a leisurely dismemberment.
The man remained in a relaxed state for an indeterminable period of time, appearing almost as if he preferred to give up rather than fight. With an unnatural speed, however, the silver-haired fighter rolled backward two feet, under the lynx's arc, and stabbed upward, impaling the creature on his new weapon.
A scream of pain quickly transformed itself into a gurgling rattle as the beast spasmed and went limp. Grunting slightly with the exertion, the cat's killer shoved it's corpse to the side, and pulled his blade out just in time to face the next attack.
The next wave consisted of the two ogres blindly charging at him, apparently having learned nothing from the death of their cohort. This time, the warrior answered with a charge of his own, meeting the two giants halfway. One ogre swung his crude club down with a powerful effort, narrowly missing its intended target, who leapt out of the impact area, only to be slightly staggered by the shockwave. This gave time for the ogre's partner to launch a powerful punch that only missed because the swordsman spun to see what had caused the rush of wind behind him.
A sudden burst of rage overwhelmed the man, and with a roar, he pointed at the offending creature, creating a blast of flame that erupted from the ground, consuming its target. The ogre had no time to let out a shout of pain, or challenge, or even to twitch before it became little more than blackened ash. With a supremely self-confident and chilling smile, the man turned to face his remaining foes...
...Only to find that they were fleeing as fast as they possibly could, the fight apparently having been drained from them. A brief mental struggle was waged in the man's mind, and with a smirk and shrug, he gestured once more, blasting both of his targets with several powerful bolts of lightning that superheated their bodies so quickly they literally exploded.
With the fight over, the man slowly lowered his hand, and gazed around at his handiwork...not that there was much left to observe. However, as his eyes lingered on the only remaining intact corpse, a flash of memory came to him...
Flames, death...all who oppose me and my Mother...
Screams of mercy, blood flowing from the wounds inflicted by my sword...
The ultimate secret, power...The Promised Land...Ancients...
It was as if the word was a switch in the recesses of his mind, unlocking the memories he had tried to grasp moments ago manually. His eyes widened in sudden comprehension, and a slow, cold smile appeared on his face. It was all so clear now, that he was somewhat embarassed that he hadn't understood before.
Being unsure of where he was, or even if his Mother had been deposited in the same place as himself, Sephiroth decided to head for the nearest town, gather information, and then...
He grinned, and actually laughed. "All work and no play makes a dull boy," he quipped. His silver hair whipping about him like a feathery cloak, he set off in a randomly picked direction, eager to see what the day brought him.
Disclaimer: This fanfic is written for the sole purpose of free entertainment. No attempt is made in any way, shape or form to garner ownership or profit from the Sailor Senshi, Sephiroth, or Urawa. They are the sole property of Naoko Takeuchi and Squaresoft. Any attempts to sue me will be rewarded with a warm cup of jack squat.
Author's notes: This story takes place approximately a year-and-a-half after the events of my previous work, "Crystal Dreams". If you have not already done so, I highly suggest you leave this story right now, and read that first, as things mentioned here will make a bit more sense in those regards. This fanfic is also dedicated to Jean Lynn, aka princess_5775, for the support and motivational butt kicks she has given me. I love ya, Jean!:) With that said, enjoy the story!
Prologue
It has become a popular saying that we are born into this world cold, wet, and hungry...and then things become worse.
For one man lying out in the wastelands...things may only become worse for those around him.
As the man struggled to return from unconsciousness, he became aware of numerous things almost simultaneously. Due to his analytical mind, he was able to instantly ascertain several things.
One, he felt like crap...but had no immediately apparent injuries.
Two, he was lying face-first on the ground, which was extremely cold. This in itself would not have been unusual, if not for the fact that it was still dirt, and not snow or ice.
And three, judging by the lack of voices nearby, and the howling wind whipping across his body, he was outside.
With a supreme effort, the man opened his eyes and rolled onto his back with a small groan that was snatched away by the fierce winds. A few moments of rest later, he managed to sit up, so as to better survey his surroundings.
Most people, he reflected, would have been shocked or dismayed to have awakened in such a desolate place-one so devoid of not only human life, but ANY life. To the newly awakened stranger, however, it was only another obstacle to overcome on his way to...
The sudden pause in his thought process startled the man, and confusion furrowed his brow as he tried to grasp at his memory. It immediately became a frustrating chore, as he could feel that he was so close...
His head snapped up as a crunch of gravel was heard behind him. Whirling as he leapt to his feet, the man quickly spotted the creatures that had been approaching stealthily, or so they thought. Two creatures that resembled flamboyantly mustachioed lynxes, accompanied by another pair of gray-skinned ogres paused in surprise as they realized that their sneak attack had failed, but emboldened by their advantage, encircled their prey in preparation for an attack.
The man flung his long silver hair back with a single jerk of his head, never taking his eyes off of his opponents for a moment. As he tracked the two creatures that were traversing around him, he spotted a glint of metal on the ground. Risking a brief second to glance at it, he was mildly surprised to discover an extraordinarily long, curved sword laying on the ground. Having no other options as far as a weapon went, the man quickly brandished the blade, noting with detached surprise that his body almost instinctively went into an unorthodox combat stance, the sword held point forward near his face, his body poised sideways, weight on the balls of his feet, and center of gravity kept low.
It was just as well, for with a roar, one of the lynx creatures leapt at the swordsman from behind, it's paws outstretched to pin the human to the ground for a leisurely dismemberment.
The man remained in a relaxed state for an indeterminable period of time, appearing almost as if he preferred to give up rather than fight. With an unnatural speed, however, the silver-haired fighter rolled backward two feet, under the lynx's arc, and stabbed upward, impaling the creature on his new weapon.
A scream of pain quickly transformed itself into a gurgling rattle as the beast spasmed and went limp. Grunting slightly with the exertion, the cat's killer shoved it's corpse to the side, and pulled his blade out just in time to face the next attack.
The next wave consisted of the two ogres blindly charging at him, apparently having learned nothing from the death of their cohort. This time, the warrior answered with a charge of his own, meeting the two giants halfway. One ogre swung his crude club down with a powerful effort, narrowly missing its intended target, who leapt out of the impact area, only to be slightly staggered by the shockwave. This gave time for the ogre's partner to launch a powerful punch that only missed because the swordsman spun to see what had caused the rush of wind behind him.
A sudden burst of rage overwhelmed the man, and with a roar, he pointed at the offending creature, creating a blast of flame that erupted from the ground, consuming its target. The ogre had no time to let out a shout of pain, or challenge, or even to twitch before it became little more than blackened ash. With a supremely self-confident and chilling smile, the man turned to face his remaining foes...
...Only to find that they were fleeing as fast as they possibly could, the fight apparently having been drained from them. A brief mental struggle was waged in the man's mind, and with a smirk and shrug, he gestured once more, blasting both of his targets with several powerful bolts of lightning that superheated their bodies so quickly they literally exploded.
With the fight over, the man slowly lowered his hand, and gazed around at his handiwork...not that there was much left to observe. However, as his eyes lingered on the only remaining intact corpse, a flash of memory came to him...
Flames, death...all who oppose me and my Mother...
Screams of mercy, blood flowing from the wounds inflicted by my sword...
The ultimate secret, power...The Promised Land...Ancients...
It was as if the word was a switch in the recesses of his mind, unlocking the memories he had tried to grasp moments ago manually. His eyes widened in sudden comprehension, and a slow, cold smile appeared on his face. It was all so clear now, that he was somewhat embarassed that he hadn't understood before.
Being unsure of where he was, or even if his Mother had been deposited in the same place as himself, Sephiroth decided to head for the nearest town, gather information, and then...
He grinned, and actually laughed. "All work and no play makes a dull boy," he quipped. His silver hair whipping about him like a feathery cloak, he set off in a randomly picked direction, eager to see what the day brought him.