Okay, I've got serious writer's block for Faceless, so I've created a new one now that midterms are over. Sorry for the shortness. This is a crossover with Farscape, not my best creation, but I've never done sci fi before. I would have put this in the crossover section, but for some reason when I tried to I couldn't :( Well, hope you like it xD Katekyo Hitman Reborn is not mine. Farscape is not mine. None of the characters are mine. Enjoy.

Dying Lies

Chapter 1: The Prophecy

Chrome Dokuro paced back and forth wall to wall, and edge to edge of her congested apartment room. There was a heavy stench of aluminum and stale oranges in the room and she had to muster up all her control to ignore it. This was her home now—there was but no piece of furniture there at all, save a few inflatable beds of which there were only two. One was overturned and deflated—the other swollen and lumpy as her two friends still slept beneath the sheets. It was four in the morning, of course they wouldn't be up. That was her logic… she didn't want them to worry about her wellbeing and her stress over what the trio were going to do. She didn't want them to discover her anxiety, nervousness and flat panic about the fact that they would soon be a quadrant of sorts.

She stopped in her tracks and sighed. Chrome's hair, now loose and so very long, lingered above her eyes in the slight breeze. The hue of purple had gotten stronger and more prominent over the ten years that had passed, so much in fact that she could no longer be with the crowd and go as noticed like how she used to. For her it was a bad thing, but Ken said that she looked much nicer now.

Much nicer to her, or much nicer to him?

She closed her eyes. The jet watch studded with amethyst ticked again and again so softly the boys couldn't hope to hear it, but to Chrome, it was loud and threatening in the silence. It was just another reminder that any moment, she could die. At any moment, she could be jumped. It was a reminder that she was not just the mist guardian of Vongola Decimo anymore—she was a wanted girl.

Wanted by her family. Wanted by the government. Wanted by the mafia... and wanted by a presence unknown to her.

Tick, tock, watch the clock, Nagi-Chan… You never know when it'll stop.

Chrome caressed her wrist and smiled slightly. Even after so long, the mind link still worked. She never wondered why, but only hoped it would still stay. Talking to him mended her emotions. Her feelings. It took away the guilt… the pain… and invisible stain on her hands from the people she had harmed. So when she spoke to him, even though it was only through telepathy, Chrome was always able to convince herself that what she did was right.

It'll never stop if I'm with you, Mukuro-Sama. I will be soon. I promise.

So naïve… you should have learned not to trust me long ago.

She walked over to her rugged cot and sat down on it, peeking over her shoulder to where Ken and Chikusa were sharing their own.

You saved my life. It's time I repaid the favor, by any means possible.

Over the link he half smiled, half smirked.

Getting a little tougher? You're changing.

Is that a bad thing?

No, no…it's very much the opposite. So… are you no longer afraid to kill?

The question caught her off guard. In the distance a crow cawed and flew off, but she saw, she heard, and she frowned.

I'd rather not. But if it's for you…

Then?

If it's for you then I'd do anything.

Content with her answer, Mukuro said nothing back. Chrome ran her delicate, pale fingers over some graffiti on the floor that read "Constipated" in faded colors, subconsciously picking at the edges that were beginning to wear the most. Against the apartment texture and lack of saturation she looked white as a ghost…with her single eye completing the picture. Long ago Chrome ditched that pirate eye-patch and sent it to the gutters along with all her ties with Boss. Long ago she swore never to trust anyone as much as she trusted Boss that day. Anyone except for Mukuro-Sama… he was the only one she would ever give her heart to.

Because on that same day she swore she'd rip out her heart and feed it to the dogs before betraying him.

"You would?"

Chrome's head snapped up so fast she got whiplash. She rubbed behind her neck tenderly and winced, but still jumped to her feet and ran to the window. That was where the voice came from. Instinctively her battle trident—no longer a link to Mukuro since she could support her organs, but still a treasured possession—materialized in her hands, and her battered feet slid into a cautious stance.

"How admirable to devote yourself to someone like that…" The voice said again. It was a serious tone without a hint of mockery that voices aimed at her usually carried, but seemed much more eerie and demoralizing than any she had heard. "…and how foolish."

When she looked out, there was a man standing outside six floor down. He was staring up at her with eyes filled with countless emotions—hate, disgust, love, admiration, insanity, understanding, longing, pain, misery, and much more flashing around that she couldn't comprehend. It was interesting… but at the same time, so scary and torturous that her hands clammed up and stomach flipped.

"Are you scared of me…?" He asked almost rhetorically, mocking, angry, but dead humorless. "Do I disturb you?"

The next thing she noticed was that the man literally glowed. His entire body, clothes, skin and all, was radiating gold. It was a gold that pumped her adrenaline but frightened her to the very bone. A shiver ran up her spine. But then the man turned and walked away.

"Wait!" Chrome yelled, breaking trance and trying to get the window open. If the stranger heard her, he showed no sign.

"I said wait! Please!"

He disappeared around the corner. She pried at the handle and yanked with all her might, then resorted to banging. When it didn't work she muttered something incohesive and slashed away at the glass. It shattered into a shower of deadly, brilliant, shimmering shards, which seemed to freeze for a moment before scattering. They looked like precious jewels and delicate gems in the moon's gentle blare, but they were neither. Chrome jumped out, scratching her shoulder on the edge, but landed safely with Ken and Chikusa wide awake behind her. They were yelling, but she veered sharply.

Something about that man… something…she had to find him.

With every step she got weaker. More tired. Colder. When a small lake came into view the man was standing there, glowing just like before.

"You!" Chrome panted, grabbing his shoulder firmly. But to her surprise he turned around quickly and powerfully, hitting her arm away and making some distance.

"Don't touch me!" He screamed, clearly losing head. The stranger's face was contorted with crazed and uncontrollable rage, but one that didn't portray violent intent. With exaggerated sweeps he pointed from himself and Chrome again and again.

"My side, your side, my side, your side, my side your side!" He roared, spit flying. She stepped back, confused and heart thumping.

Crazy. Not crazy? No, definitely crazy.

She narrowed her eye. This person… was beyond strange. He wore rags from head to toe like robes which swung every time he lashed out. His shoes were made of metal and covered with rust, but what struck her the most was his face. Dirty blonde, short hair… messy stubble… young face… nothing new there, just the average Mafioso lazy-bone. Only difference was that the right half of his face was…was…

She didn't know where it was…. What it was… in her eyes it just looked like a mass of painfully bright gold. She couldn't see any of his features—no skin, and no eye either… yet for some reason it still seemed very much alive. Not human—alive.

"Who are you?" Chrome asked softly, voice cracking. He stopped ranting, face changing completely.

"Who am I?" He frowned, looking lost. "Who am I?"

She hesitated. What was this man talking about? "You don't know who you are?" She tried to confirm.

"Who am I… who am I…" The man looked up. "I am who? Him? Her? Him? Him? Nothing? Everything?"

"Please, I don't understand what you're—"

"—You're me I'm you but you're nothing but so am I yet nothing is everything but anything was once everything! Don't you get it? Get it? Get it? It's all in the head! All in my head, all in your head, we're all mad!"

"Calm down, I just want to—"

"—Talk? Talk? Talk? They all want to talk. Everyone wants to talk! Everyone wants to talk to him or her or him or her! But no one ever talks! It's just death, just death…Who am I? Who are you? Who am I? Maybe if you died you'd know, death, death, death, death is the answer the everything! If you want to know so badly why don't you just die? Why don't you kill me? Who am I, who are you? Who am I? Who…I am!"

"Don't!" Chrome screamed. She didn't know why. She didn't know anything. All she knew was that her mind was falling to bits.

"You're side, my side, your side, my side! This is death, and who I am!"

She silently pleaded for Mukuro's help, but he said nothing. The hand that held her trident tightened, but when she blinked, the man was behind her.

"I am Stark."

Chrome jumped while slashing viciously where he once stood, suddenly feeling a flash of rage. Stark.. if that really was his name… moved out of reach and smiled before disappearing into a flash of white. In his place was a mask. A chunk of steel with three straps that looked like it would fit over someone's right eye—it was plain and obviously worn, but she was somehow attracted to it. So she approached the object and reached stupidly to pick it up, still unnerved by what just happened. But when her fingers touched they burned and she withdrew them, just as golden light streamed from the edges and touched above it to reveal an image… an image of Stark who was yelling just then.

Only this time he was calm and unfazed with eyes that held no emotions at all. The part of his face that blasted so intensely before was a sickly black and blue, and looked like some sort of caved in wound, and was too blurred for her to see. But it was him… it was him…

"You," the image said. "If this is being shown, it means that my plan is coming into play. This is a warning, if nothing less. Pay attention, whoever you are, to what I say next:"

The image closed its eye.

"To come shall be the stone skinned pest who bore two diamonds in her chest.

Let the stars fall one by one in the sky, be cue the wolf's meteor faced down to tie.

To come shall be the rouge one's claw, fake and false but without flaw.

Let the rage clog all small ant's vision, be cue the deaths of those who haft risen.

To come shall be the mystery of bloody seas and sickly bees.

Let the black flash then fade away, be cue the birth of four bad jays.

When all is lost and the stone watch stops, lay red to stray from the stone wolf's pray."

The image flickered and died, leaving Chrome alone staring at the mask in dark reticence. Right before it completely dulled, she saw a vision of a young girl with messy white hair crouching in a cell… she was dressed in black leathers and had gray skin and her head bowed down, defeated. She was crouched in pool of blood. But that vision was gone as soon as it came, and Chrome was there wondering if she had dreamt it. Chikusa walked next to her. His gaze asked her what was wrong. What happened.

"It's nothing," she lied. "It's nothing…"