summary: the fall of the Silver Millennium, and Mars is right at home

rating: M for violence maybe?

A/N: omg thank you everybody for the reviews and favs/follows! i lost my shit when my inbox blew up with notifications! keep the constructive criticism coming :) also- this is my very first try at a SilMil setting. please let me know how it turns out.


It was war, and it was what Mars lived for.

She sidestepped the bodies like they were the endless books piled in Mercury's bedchambers.

Her flames licked her enemies skin like she licked the succulent, sweet frosting Jupiter spread over her desserts.

When her flaming arrow pierced the supple brown flesh of a Terran barbarian she allowed herself a beautiful and radiant smile- the same kind Venus uses when she realizes the exact second a man becomes putty in her delicate and able hands.

Yes- Mars was right at home.

Really, Mars had always been at war. It was a constant state in her tumultuous and short life. War with her father, however present he chose to be or not to be. To him she was only a political pawn- a beautiful daughter to court -No, wait! Even better!- a Sailor Senshi to serve the illustrious Moon Kingdom in which the entire solar system were aligned. What an amazing turn of events for the most barbaric planet in the Silver Alliance, sans Earth. What an amazing opportunity for the planet Mars- a chance to prove they could be the more than the planet who housed warriors and knights and oracles.

She warred with her so-called gifts, constantly catching glimpses of the future whether she knelt by her precious Sacred Fire or not. Internally worrying about an inevitable accident in which her princess would fall prey to, wondering if she should indulge her sisters with the future-gossip. It was decided long ago, though, that the burden was hers to bear alone, and she was not to share it with anyone else. When The Fire calls to her, she must answer, ready and willing at every moment, whether the visions come true or not. The Fire was greedy and it chose her like every oracle before- selfish in its need to consume its bearer.

Her sharp tongue was always ready for a small and short-lived war with her glorious princess, ready to scold and snap and growl at any annoying thing the silken silver haired girl said. Mars would glare into the saucer-eyes, blood boiling because how stupid could she really be? and she would yell and seethe and curse Serenity's name to the high heavens until Venus gave her a softened warning-glare.

Even now the Martian girl's teeth grind at the thought of the countless trips she made to the gardens of Endymion's castle to retrieve her platinum-haired liege, only to soften at the desperate touch of Serenity's hands around Mars' arm. Mars' heart was clenched in her chest -although she'd never admit that to Serenity- when Serenity pulled her aside and whispered, begging to let her stay just a few more minutes, please, Ariadne- I promise. Please?

In the end, of course, Mars let her princess stay. As did every one of her other senshi, and only now does Mars sneer at the irony of it.

She should have known they were all damned from the start.

Now, the only solace she receives is from Terran bones and spears crunching beneath her red heels, and the smell of charred flesh. It is the only small victory she allows herself to claim. She will not rest until every invader is dead dead dead and Selene help her she will make sure they burn for this act of treason against the Silver Alliance.

The Moon Palace shines distantly over the expanse in front of her, still pristine and glowing despite the dusty and bloody surface on which it stands. Her princess is guarded inside by Jupiter- the strongest of them, the last resort. Coincidentally, Jupiter is by far the most comforting of the quartet, despite her overwhelming physical strength. Mars is comforted in the knowledge that Serenity is not alone, and is being well taken care of by Jupiter's soft demeanor. She hopes that Serenity's gentle eyes do not catch glimpse of the complete bloodbath that has become of her home planet. She has not sinned enough to earn the right to see the destruction.

The invaders are not to reach the Palace, Venus had ordered to Mars before leaving with a wink and a whisper of good luck. Mars knew this was where she was needed- the farthest from the palace, farthest from her princess, closest to the danger. Mars was to be left with the rest of the soldiers, the first line of defense. Really, this was where Mars preferred to be- it was where majority of the destruction took place.

If she is being honest with herself, Mars is a complete masochist. Many a night she's been kept awake by her sinful, racing, violent thoughts. In the beginning, -really, when she was first awakened as a senshi- it scared her. She was sure there was something wrong with her- sure that maybe the Sacred Fire had blessed her with too much power for her to handle.

Really, the Sacred Fire had nothing to do with it.

Mars' Flaming Arrow precisely pierces a Terran's heart, just as she lets the thought of the Sacred Fire slip her mind. He falls slowly and almost dramatically to the ground, clutching at the fire burning inside his chest. Mars strides to the fallen soldier, side-stepping and waltzing around the charred and mangled bodies left in her wake.

The Terran is beautiful, almost femininely so. Mars knows who he is immediately- his long, burnt copper, curly hair is in a fray about his head; his bright emerald eyes are open and still, staring at the black sky. His dark charcoal uniform is charred around the chest, -from her arrow- there is blood on his once-pristine white gloves. He lays lifeless just before Mars' scarlet stilettos, blood pooling beneath his limp body.

Mars knows him, and she knows that she will never be able to look Mercury in the eye after this night.

"Ariadne," a velvet-smooth and glass-sharp voice carries across the battlefield, landing to rest on Mars ears. A frown sets itself on her pretty, thin lips, and Mars cannot stop her heart from dropping into her stomach.

Her own name stings her as it falls from his perfect lips, and she lifts her head from the dead boy in front of her to gaze at her once-lover. His blond curls fall seductively over his flame-blue eyes, and his mouth melts into a sly grin that she knows does not belong to him. Mars can feel the demon surging inside of him, wanting nothing more than to watch the Moon Kingdom crumble beneath his white gloves. Mars' heart lurches at the sight of him- an empty corpse of the man she once knew, nothing but a puppet now. Her angry flames come to life in the palms of her long, white gloves, licking the fabric and the flesh of her upper arms.

Jadeite is unafraid, confidently stepping closer to Mars, hand on the hilt of his sword. His eyes are hungry, the essence of Mars recognizes, but it's somehow dirtier now that he is tainted by the witch, Beryl.

"Jadeite," she spits, rising slowly from the charred surface of the moon. She does not spare the boy at her feet another glance. Her inky black hair spills over her shoulder, sparking and snapping with all of her anger.

"So much hate in your bones, witch. Didn't you love me once?" Jadeite asks lightly, voice a perfect monotone mask. He pulls his sword slowly from its sheath, letting her watch, letting her revel in it.

Mars does not watch the sword, nor does she watch his feet carry him closer to her. She lets the anger wash over her like a cold, thrashing wave. The flames engulf her fists entirely, snaking upward and licking her biceps, giving her sweet encouragement. She watches his once-azure eyes that are now a cold gunmetal gray, drinking her in as he steps closer. She lets him, lets him watch her like a thirsty man in the desert. She allows herself to become Venus, exuding some kind of orange glow, allure in her amethyst eyes, saliva slick and wet on her lips, hair spilt like black blood over her shoulder and down her chest. Real blood -of a Terran, she thinks- drips from her shoulder and she imagines that it is Jadeite's, his once-blue now-gray eyes dead and vacant. A chill tingles in her fingertips as Mars imagines touching his tender skin, cold to her everwarm fingers, satisfaction in her heart because he is dead by her hands. She nearly feels his blood stilled in his veins.

He stops in front of her, mighty silver blade limp at his side, although she knows his fist is clenched tightly around its hilt. She remembers his fist tangled in her hair, and she hates herself for aching for the man she thought she loved. How foolish.

She smiles at him, teeth bared because she is Mars and, in the end, war is all she really knows.

And she lives for it.


i know this is hella short but this has literally been sitting in my google docs for a year and i couldn't think of how to end it so i just kinda... didn't ;P