Claiming, dying, being
She forgot.
After all these years, centuries of undisturbed glory - she forgot.
And stepped on the same path once again.
They fought. And knew they had to die. They wanted to burn their lives away together with enemies', but she didn't want anyone to die. So she pleaded, screaming her sanity out in one vain attempt to stop the bloodshed. She died with every friend dying, feeling she must had done everything wrong from the beginning, but unable to let anyone go when it came to this. And just when there was nobody left to be worried about, she remembered.
Just like everytime before.
No matter how, no matter for what reasons, she let her friends die. Who cared about her thoughts and intentions, about her not willing to hurt anyone, her angelic scared face and trembling hands, now that her galaxy lied in ruins? She may had called her actions whatever she liked, it couldn't change anything now. And then, just after what seemed like a thousand years of agony, she got it.
Galaxia had been right.
Nothing could be protected by someone who won't fight.
Not the kind of fight like jumping in front of enemy's blade to delay others' suffering and death. But the way Galaxia fought. The way her friends fought. Struggling to crush everything that they couldn't live in one world with, that threatened their beliefs and people dear to them. No matter what. No matter how much the others were hurt.
And her...
Running and running - only away, desparately grasping everyone dear to feel them being torn away from her clenched fingers...
That's not how it should be done.
Remember.
Like the first time.
When everyone who had encouraged her to be strong perished, she did became strong. By chance or somehow else, she understood.
She cast away all thoughts and emotions, being useless for what she was about to do. And marched towards Metallia - absurdly young girl in funny suit, a mockery of a soldier's...
What had been the Earth became the galaxy where she stood alone now. Awfully young and naive self-proclaimed Sailor Cosmos, several thousand years of her life being uncomparable to Chaos' eternal existance...
She raised her toy-like Moon Scepter, which looked like a hastily made thing which only purpose was to hold Ginzuishou and to look somehow related to the Moon. She distinctly pronounced her attack, like it could help to unleash the power...
The scepter was decorated and regal, like a non-usable plaything designed to entertain her at leisure. The power hasn't changed at all - screaming the attack, feeling the force rush through her from the Ginzuishou on her chest and into the scepter...
Metallia didn't need any words. Neither did Chaos. The rolling black sea in front of her was the power itself. But it couldn't get to her now, not when her way of thinking had been crushed and thrown aside. The scream blew any remaining thoughts away, but for the one intention. The enemy ahead, the beam of energy from her hands. She was to keep it streaming.
This was the simplest thing ever. Why hadn't she done it from the start? This proved to be the only possible way of existance, the essence of being for such things as her. She was nothing but an energy transmitter, the only suitable setting for Ginzuishou's power to exist in, made by the galaxy to guard and unleash the power of its most precious creation. And now, blasting the enormous mass of darkness away, she felt for the first time what it was like to be Sailor Cosmos. The guardian in name and deed, the galaxy's only one, the strongest one, the...
The one who happened to claim.
This had to be the best moment of her life! And the last! whispered the fading conscience, as Sailor Cosmos was falling, falling, falling on the remains of the ruined world they battled in. She didn't feel the impact, her physical senses being as useless and lost as emotions. Just the very being what she had long claimed to be, like the wings of starshine flowing behind her...
She closed her eyes and put her fingers around Ginzuishou, taking it with her on the another cycle of death and rebirth.
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