Broken Star

Chaos is a primal force. It is not something that can be defeated easily. Perhaps it can be stopped for a while and kept at bay. Perhaps. It will still lurk in the hearts of men and then, when you think you are safe, it will return, nourished by jealousy and pettiness, anger and bitterness, disappointment, sadness, hatred… It is all that and so much more.

Galaxia hopes nevertheless that this time, it will all be different. That the bright light will shine on the galaxy forever and whatever is left of Chaos will remain weak. It seems like it can be true, this time around. The girl back on Earth, Sailor Moon, shone so brightly.

But Chaos is not thwarted. It may be weakened, it may be scattered, but it knows its prize has ran off. It will not accept it. Galaxia is still weak, tired and the crystals are still just that—little lights, nothing more. This time around, there is no subtlety. This time it strikes and takes what was once already in its possession.

Galaxia is first, too surprised to react. One moment, she's full of hope and the next she's surrounded by the darkness. Trapped. The seeds follow.

She smells rot and blood, despair and hatred. She hears laughter and whispers, arrogance and decadence. They dance, and twist, and where one ends the other begins, and she cries out.


Tsukino Usagi may seem a fragile, weak creature. She cries easily—she is crying right now, whispering to her dead friends. They're gone and she is all alone. One girl with a whole world on her shoulders.

Then she hears. The same voice she heard just moments ago thanking her, now calls out again. For aid. Usagi freezes. She looks on, eyes wide with fear and shock. Had the fight not just ended? Should there not be at least a moment of peace? But those are just fleeting thoughts. The cry for help still rings in her ears and she will not be idle.

"Sailor Moon!" she hears and looks down. The Starlights, battered and bruised, are still there.

Seiya—Sailor Star Fighter—is looking up, her blue eyes wide.

"Did you hear that as well?" Usagi asks. She gazes up again, worried.

"We did," Taiki replies. "We-"

"We have to go!" Yaten snaps. "Don't you feel it? Something happened to the Princess!"

It takes Usagi a moment to register they mean Kakyuu. She is just so used to being the Princess—is it vain, she wonders briefly, but the thought scatters away like a startled bird moments later. Galaxia, something happened to Galaxia and with her the star seeds.

"I'm going," she says, looking towards the three Senshi on the ground. "She- They need me. I couldn't-"

"We're going with you," Seiya states, before she can say anything. "Our Princess is in danger, and we will not leave her. We will not leave you either. You shouldn't fight alone."

Usagi smiles. She doesn't want them in danger, but… she doesn't want to go alone. Maybe it is selfish…

"But our Princess comes first," Yaten snaps.


There is light. It's blinding and gold—it should burn, but Usagi thinks it's just pleasantly warm. And yet, it slices to through the darkness, coiling around smaller lights. It wants to be an anchor, a tether.

The weak echo that lead her here still rings in her ears. She can sense her friends somewhere out there—no, not somewhere. They're in the light, their star seeds caught in the middle of the desperate struggle. Usagi doesn't pause to consider her actions, she acts.

She flies into the light. It is by no means an easy way. The darkness does not want her—it rejects her as fiercely as the golden light. She struggles against it, putting all her power into the effort of moving forward. If she can reach them—if she can protect them, then she will gladly give up everything.

And so she does. By now she isn't flying on pure white wings—they're bloodied stumps. Her body is a ruin, bleeding, bruised and withered. Perhaps, she should have rested, but then what chance of finding her friends would she have? The Starlights plow on behind her and despite her attempts to shield them, they are falling apart too.

In a last ditch attempt they give her all. They fall apart, and all that she is left with three little pin-pricks of light. She grasps them and cradles them, allowing their warmth to sooth her pain. She doesn't know if the moistness on her cheeks are tears or blood, or both. It does not matter—she will save her friends.

She pushes on. And still, she loses more. The darkness realizes it cannot stop her like this, not by hurting her. Instead it tries to steal: her memories, her mind. Instead of resisting, she sheds all she can. The darkness swallows all that she learned from her mother, the familiar faces, the smells, the sounds.

But in its greed, it does not notice that it did not take the one thing that keeps the broken wreck alive: love. Once nothing else is left, there is only the sense of urgent need to be with others. They cannot stop her from reaching the source of the golden light.


The pods remain frozen, suspended in the maelstrom. The Emperor of Mankind is immobile, and yet, he feels as if he were juggling fireballs. His focus is not only on the precious creatures hidden in the twenty metal wombs, but on the laboratory—if the Warp spills… He cannot accept the consequences.

A blink of an eye later, he decides the previous situation was easy. Something touches him—someone. For a moment, he sees her. She's a broken thing, holding on to life only through sheer force of will. Every single moment, every single breath is a fight, and yet, she persists. Despite her sorry state, she still radiates power. The Warp is soothed, calmed around her. It gives him a moment longer, long enough to look into her, but there is barely anything left, just an urgent need to protect. Scattered fragments of a life are all that she has left: a glimpse of black hair, an echo of a voice. All else she has shed, just to come this far, to save those dear to her.

"I won't- can't help… save…" she says, her voice weak.

She is looking into him—such a close contact cannot be made one-sided. In itself, it speaks already of immense power.

She must know what is at stake for him.

"Not alone," she continues. "You… and… I—alike."

He looks up to the frozen pods, to his hopes, to the future. He cannot save his sons now, not without sacrificing too much. They will slip away far away from his reach.

No, alone, he cannot save them, but she brings a promise. He cannot hold his sons and she cannot save her friends, but maybe…

He reaches out to her and they meet, a golden warrior and a silver princess. The Primarchs scatter, but not alone. The star seeds follow, her sacrifice for his. As his sons are taken, his hands touch hers. He grips her hands and drags her out, inch by inch. It is not easy—what the Warp claims, it will not let go. Her battered body is broken further and what he holds in the end is barely human.

In one final effort, she gathers what is left and reshapes it, as he focuses on sustaining the fragile spark her life has become. Around them, the maelstrom dies and reality begins to flow again. The chamber is full of noise: alarms blaring, the voices of his Custodes raised in alarm… And amidst the chaos stands the Emperor of Mankind, cradling a little girl.


AN: And since there's only two of us writing that, we decided that moving this to my account would less of a hassle for everyone involved. ;)