Author's Notes: I want to give everyone a heads up that for the next month or so, updates might be a bit sparse and irregular. I've decided to participate in this year's NaNoWriMo, and so much of my time and energy during November will be dedicated to orginial works rather than fanfiction. Come December I should be back to my normal semi-schedule (I hope!) ^.^ Also, let me just apologize right away for this not being a chapter for End of Innocence, which is what I *should* have been working on. However, after watching Omega's episode 29 last night, this particular plot bunny worked its way into my mind, and I couldn't focus on anything until I wrote up this little bit of tribute. I just felt that it *had* to be done, so I hope everyone can forgive me for my indulgence, and I hope that you enjoy it anyway!

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Reminiscent

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A lone figure stood atop the cliff, gazing out at the column of golden light that stretched up towards the heavens, the winding stone staircases twisting around it in a macabre spiral, interrupted by the floating plateaus spread out at equal distances along the route. One, two, three…only four were visible before the light and stairs disappeared into the clouds, but he could visualize the rest with ease. There would be twelve in all, the Twelve Houses of the Gold Zodiac, all apart of Mars' false Sanctuary.

It was a mockery of truth. The ultimate falsehood built upon a tower of lies.

He had been prepared for this moment for years, never quite knowing when it would come and yet readying himself all the same. Thirteen years since Mars' first descent; thirteen years since the post-Holy War peace had been shattered, resulting in a chilling shadow of twenty-five years past - friend against friend, brother against brother. And once again the Pegasus Saint stood at the edge of it all, comrades gathered around him, preparing to fight, preparing to stand up for his beliefs and to defend those that he loved.

His gaze drifted from the Zodiac spiral to the Tower of Babel, and he clenched his fist tightly. He could feel them gathering, the golden Cosmos, and most of all he could feel him – darkness itself, prepared to rend the Earth asunder to fulfill his ultimate goals. The past months had been almost torturous for him, knowing what Mars was doing, sensing the death of the land as the elements were drained from the Earth, and yet he could do nothing. The day that Mars had attacked that lone, isolated island and Athena – the true Athena – had vanished, he had taken himself from his temple and disappeared, hiding himself away from his fellow Saints and his goddess. It had galled him to stand by and do nothing as Palaestra was destroyed, as rookie and veteran Saints, Bronze and Silver alike, were condemned and manipulated. Some of the younger Saints had never even laid eyes upon Athena; how were they to know that Mars lied? It wasn't the first time such deception had blinded the eyes of the Saints.

The ironic similarities between the present and the past were not lost on him.

Is this how you felt, Mu-sama, all of those years we spent isolated in Jamir? He closed his eyes, calling to mind the gentle green eyes and lavender hair of a man now long dead. One of his earliest memories consisted of his master standing on the tower balcony, staring off into the distance with a sad and longing look upon his face. It was only after he'd grown older and had discovered Mu's true identity – and that the destiny of Cloth Repairer and Aries Saint were one and the same – that he had realized the direction Mu had always been staring in had been Sanctuary. Mu had hidden himself away, concealed himself from the eyes of the Grand Pope, for years. His few months seemed paltry in comparison.

Thinking of Mu made him think of his own apprentice left behind at that same tower, and he wondered if Raki was standing on that same balcony, staring at the tower of light that was no doubt visible from all corners of the Earth. Likely not, he thought wryly. She's probably trying to come up with a way to follow me here even now. Just as he would have done if Mu hadn't brought him along to Sanctuary – he was sure if his master were alive today, he'd have a dozen comparisons between Raki and his own younger self.

He'd had no choice in leaving his apprentice behind. She wasn't a full-fledged Cloth Repairer herself, but she had enough talent that she could prove to be too tempting for Mars, given how desperate the usurper was to get his hands on the true Cloth Repairer. As if I would ever repair the Cloth of one of his accursed Marsians, he thought distastefully. Let as many of their Cloths break as possible; if he could only give Athena his support in such a small way, so be it.

And this wasn't like before, when he'd accompanied Mu. This time there was no goddess lying at the bottom of the hill in need of protection. This time, it was not desperation to save her that would drive the Bronze Saints, but a need for revenge. He would not be able to avoid combat – he only hoped that he would be able to complete his task.

He tilted his head up, returning his gaze once more to the golden light. I will uphold the honor of the Gold Saints, Mu-sama. I will do what needs to be done for Koga, Ryuho and their friends, just as you once did for Seiya and his. I will not let Mars win. "As Aries Saint of the twenty-first century, so this I swear," he whispered.

For the briefest moment he thought he felt the brush of a familiar Cosmo, as warm and gentle as a spring's breeze, and for a second he was eight years old again, lying in front of the fireplace on a winter's night in Jamir, his head pillowed on his master's lap. He wiped at the lone tear gathering in the corner of one eye.

Then Aries Kiki looked to the first plateau, and the temple that stood upon it, and a slow smile spread its way across his face.

"Thank you," he whispered.

It was time.