Disclaimer: I don't own Ranma 1/2 or Sailor Moon in any way, shape or form. All associated characters, trademarks, etc. are the property of Rumiko Takahashi and Naoko Takeuchi. I'm just telling some stories about them.
Author's Note: There's been a few people wondering whether or not the fic is going to end soon, and (while I try my best not to give specific details about what's coming up, due to my extreme spoiler-phobia) an idea of what general pacing to expect is probably a good thing to have.
Basically, we are almost at the final climax... of Part One. Part Two-the remaining half of the overall story-is probably going to be a separate fic, and there's also going to be a much shorter (currently slated at about three chapters) interlude fic which takes place between them.
Oh, and this fic has a page on TV Tropes now! A big thank-you to everyone who put that together; you guys are awesome!
Chapter Twenty-One: War Dance
The roar of combat filled the air, as Marceat looked wildly back and forth across the battlefield. The serpentine youma bit her lower lip, her mind running in circles as she tried to think of some way to change the direction of the conflict.
Because the youma army was losing. Her army was losing. Her glorious command, her once-in-a-lifetime chance to prove herself was crashing down in flames around her, torn apart by these damned humans!
To her left she saw one of her attack groups retreating back to the safety of the defensive barriers encircling the main force, harried by arrow fire all the way. To her right she saw a small tornado tear through another platoon, sending bodies flying this way and that. And in the sky above, her flying forces were getting ripped to pieces by the arrows and energy blasts that kept lancing up at them from below.
Marceat let out a scream of frustration and despair, her hands clenching helplessly into fists. Nothing she did was working! Every move she made, every tactic she employed, all of it was instantly countered, as though the enemy knew her next thought before even she did. General Jadeite had left her the task of smashing this opposition and breaking through to reinforce his attack... but she was failing him utterly.
The youma tried to think of a new plan of attack, but nothing was coming to mind. Images of disgrace and death flooded her thoughts, either death at the hand of these foes, or death at the hand of Jadeite for allowing such a debacle to happen. Already she had lost more than half her forces, and unless something changed...
She looked back and forth across the battlefield once more... and then her features twisted into a manic expression. No, she would not go out like this! She might be doomed to failure and death, but right now, in this moment, this was still her glorious command, her once-in-a-lifetime chance. She would most likely die at the end of it... but by Metallia, she would not let her army be brought low so easily!
Her head snapped up, her decision made. "To hell with reinforcing Jadeite!" she muttered under her breath, looking out across the battlefield with fresh eyes.
And—freed from that consideration—the beginnings of a new plan began to slowly grow in her...
Loofah hopped from roof to roof, twisting back and forth as the youma flying above poured their attacks down at her. Air-to-ground fire of countless different types ripped up the rooftops in her wake, but the ancient warrior was always two steps ahead. She continued to thrust her fingers skyward as she dodged, releasing blast after blast of her own, killing youma after youma.
Her breath was coming in shallow wheezes and her entire body felt as though it were on fire, as countless old injuries made their presences known. She had tried to favor her bad leg as best she could, but it was still shot through with pain, and she wasn't sure how much longer it would support her.
A curse on these aging bones, she thought with resignation, as she shot another youma out of the air. Even five years ago, I would have been able to last longer than this...
The old woman raised her hand, aiming at her next target... only to see that youma, and the youma on either side of her, shredded by a hail of senbon needles. The remaining youma targeting Loofah veered off under the sudden attack, giving her a moment of breathing room.
She glanced over her shoulder, just in time to see Cologne hop over to her rooftop. "Thank you," the crippled master said, while moving so that the two of them could stand back to back.
Cologne was breathing hard herself, she noticed. Blood was seeping from several cuts on her arms, and one nasty gash along her forehead. "They're starting to adapt," Cologne told her. "Making better use of their powers against us. They've been using illusions against me, and they managed to catch Soap in some kind of gravity trap for a bit."
Loofah tracked the fliers swirling overhead, while digesting the information. "We're still winning, for now," she said, letting loose two more shots, striking down a youma with each. "Their attrition is steeper than ours. If we can keep bleeding them like this, then I think we stand a good chance of—" She paused, frowning. "What's this?"
Without warning, as though in response to some signal, the remains of the swarm of fliers began to peel away, swooping back toward the main youma force. A cheer went up from the scattered groups of Joketsuzoku, as they watched their enemies flee. But Loofah's frown did not diminish.
"They're pulling back," Cologne murmured. Then her gaze swept across the battlefield. "All of them, even the ones on the ground."
"And reorganizing their forces behind their barriers as well," added Loofah, her tone grim. Then she raised her voice. "Fall back! All forces, fall back! Stay clear of the perimeter!"
Without needing to be told, Cologne raced off, speeding counter-clockwise around the youma army to spread the warning as quickly as possible. Loofah went clockwise, snapping out her orders to every Joketsuzoku whose path she crossed.
She could sense the battlefield shifting, could sense her warriors pulling away. But the youma were adjusting too, groups of them forming, taking up positions just behind the edges of their shield-wall. Up ahead, Loofah felt the presence of one last Joketsuzoku group that hadn't been alerted. She increased her speed, hurtling toward the small store they were holed up in, praying for enough time.
Her tiny form crashed through one of the windows, entering the room in a shower of glass. The Joketsuzoku inside whirled in surprise, but Loofah was already barking at them. "Out, all of you, now!"
Immediately the warriors moved to obey... just as Loofah felt a surge of killing intent from the mass of youma outside.
Then the front wall of the building exploded inward under the concentrated fire of scores of different projectiles. Energy beams, metal spikes, even a stream of greenish-yellow acid, tearing into the storefront, and into the Joketsuzoku behind it.
The warriors near the window were hit first, their bodies convulsing as they were impaled by the parts of the barrage that made it through the wall. One of them reacted fast enough to grab one of the younger warriors and hurl her farther back into the building, shielding the girl's path with her own body as a half-dozen blades buried themselves into her back and a barbed spear tore through her hip. Then a large ball of energy slammed into the ground nearby, tossing all of them through the air with its detonation.
The shockwave surged toward Loofah, who responded with a downward slash of her cane, creating a wedge-shaped vacuum in the air and using it to slice the explosion in half around her. She darted back and forth, catching the wounded warriors out of the air and guiding them to the ground as gently as she could.
At the same time, she was gathering her ki. More attacks were already on the way, the youma outside adjusting their aim to their targets' new position. Loofah, however, had no intention of letting a single one land.
Her eyes blazed, and she released her battle aura, the wave of ki scattering the oncoming attacks like straw before a gale, but Loofah knew that in her already-drained condition she could not keep it up for long. "Quickly!" she snapped to the two least injured of the warriors. "Move the others!"
They nodded, both of them grabbing hold of their comrades and dragging them back. Another pair of warriors pulled themselves upright, leaning on each other as they hobbled toward the rear of the building. Loofah was last to leave, holding the breach against the youma onslaught until everyone else had retreated. Then she turned and made for the building's rear exit, darting through it and into the alleyway beyond.
She dropped to one knee for a moment, her shoulders shaking, but she quickly forced herself back to her feet. The crippled master then leaped up to the rooftops to survey the situation.
It was as she had expected. Youma attacks of every kind were being fired from behind the cover of their impromptu fortifications, torrents of destruction shooting out from the army in every direction. All Joketsuzoku forces had been moved back from the combat zone by now... but it was not the Joketsuzoku themselves that the youma were targeting. Not anymore.
As Loofah watched, the barrage chewed away at the building they had just vacated, blasting holes in its walls, ripping into its structure. It soon began to tremble, and within a few minutes it collapsed completely, crumbling in on itself.
The youma who had been shooting at it simply switched their aim to the building next to it, subjecting it to the same treatment. Scorched earth... Loofah thought. They're not going to play our game anymore. They can't compete with our guerilla tactics, so they're going to remove our cover entirely.
In terms of preventing the summoning that they thought the "Dark Lords" were about to enact, it was a grave mistake, slowing their advance to a crawl. If Loofah's objective actually had been to stall the Dark Kingdom force, they would have been doing exactly what she wanted.
Except, of course, there was no summoning, no army of countless invincible warriors ready to break into this dimension and overrun the Dark Kingdom. Loofah was fully aware of how much of the tactical advantage they had enjoyed in this battle had been provided by what Ranma was doing off in Furinkan. But in their desperation, these youma had now inadvertently stumbled onto a far more effective strategy for what was actually going on.
Ambushes were no longer an option, and the cover provided by the magical, youma manipulated defenses was more formidable and flexible than any mundane fortifications that Loofah had ever encountered. The Joketsuzoku would be pushed back, step by step... eventually reaching areas that had not yet been evacuated of civilians.
They intend to force a direct confrontation with us, thought the old master. Even if they have to raze this entire ward to the ground to do it.
Lesp held her breath, waiting for the signal from the unit commander. With the destruction of their old platoon, she and Cortheia had been hastily reassigned to bolster another one that had taken losses. It had been done in a haphazard manner; the organization of the army was not particularly stable at the moment.
Ahead of her, about two-score youma were lined up behind a large stone barrier that one of the shield youma had conjured up from the earth. A narrow strip had been removed from it, and the youma were all firing through the hole non-stop.
Squinting, Lesp could see a little bit through the hole herself, and it looked as though the last remaining human building in the current row was in the process of coming down. That meant it would be time to move soon. "Get ready," she murmured to Cortheia, who was standing next to her. The red-skinned youma responded with a nervous nod, forming her arms into her huge battle axes.
Sure enough, in less than a minute, the call rang out. "Advance! Secure the next line!"
The stone barrier in front of them didn't drop—the ranged youma behind it were too valuable in this kind of fight to risk exposing—but the energy shields on either side of it opened enough for Lesp's group to charge through. She ran out, feet pounding across the shattered, rubble-strewn street, surrounded by her fellow footsoldiers.
They were greeted by a hail of arrows, fired from the cover of the next row of buildings beyond what they had just destroyed, to which their enemies had fallen back. But the buildings were too far away. At such a distance they had more than enough time to track the incoming attacks and respond.
Lesp raised her arm, then swung her yellow, praying-mantis-like claw down in a swipe that cut an incoming arrow in two. Cortheia swung her battle axes in frenzied arcs, hacking aside three more. A few youma were hit, but none fatally.
They pressed forward, securing a position that was within range of the next row of buildings. The arrows were coming more fiercely by then, but the shield youma were right behind them, following in their shadow. There was a flash of bluish-white, and then a wall of ice flowed around them to stand between their group and the incoming attacks. Other types of shielding followed, each according to the particular youma's ability, firming up the perimeter.
The ranged youma rushed up once it was safe, preparing to open fire on the new row of buildings. Lesp, for her part, took a few deep breaths, her hands trembling a little. It was dawning on her that it would be like this all throughout the city, block by block, diving into potential death again and again and again.
She shuddered—but then she felt a hand touch her shoulder. Cortheia leaned over, holding tight in a gesture of reassurance. "Don't worry," the red-skinned youma whispered. "Queen Metallia will watch over us."
Lesp considered asking whether Metallia had been watching over all the other youma they had seen killed today, but decided against it. She knew that Cortheia was just trying to comfort her as best she knew how.
In the end, she simply nodded, and squeezed hard on Corthiea's hand herself. Past them, she could hear the youma opening fire once more, chewing away at this latest row of buildings, while the two of them rested in preparation for the next push.
Balm ran, careening forward in a lurching stumble and gasping for breath as she raced along behind the buildings that comprised the Joketsuzoku's current line of defense. The din of battle filled her ears, shrieks, crashes, explosions, and the constant sound of the youma barrage.
The young girl blocked it all out, concentrating only on her running. Soon her destination came into view, the convenience store that had been taken as their latest command post. She burst through the door and staggered to a stop in front of Loofah. "Elder, the ninth and twelfth battle groups have all been pushed back from their positions!" she panted. "The ninth has exhausted all their arrows, and the twelfth is running out as well."
Loofah nodded, her mouth pressing into a thin line. "Indeed."
For a moment Balm hesitated, then pressed on. "What are your orders, Elder? How do we respond to this?"
The ancient master let out a deep breath, her shoulders slumping a little. "This... may be as far as we can go, for now."
"You mean... retreat?" asked Balm, her face falling. "Isn't there anything we can do to counter this?"
"At this point we have more wounded than able-bodied warriors, child," Loofah responded, though she didn't look any happier about it than Balm. "There's no way we can assault those fortifications head-on with our current strength. We're running low on ammunition, and even the fighters that are still standing have been fighting non-stop since this began. It may be time to pull back, so that we can fight again when the situation favors us more."
Balm looked out through one of the windows, managing to catch a glimpse of the battle raging outside, understanding the elder's point, but still resistant. "Isn't there anything we can do?" she asked again, more out of desperation than anything else.
Loofah shook her head. "At this point..." she said, her voice full of regret, "...it would take a miracle."
Humming merrily under his breath, his tiny body dwarfed by the bulging sack he carried slung over his shoulder, the wizened grandmaster of the Anything Goes school bounded along from rooftop to rooftop, reveling in the ill-gotten spoils of his latest "training trip."
Granted, this particular training trip had lasted a bit longer than even he had intended. He'd returned to the Tendo dojo a few days ago to deposit his most recently acquired silky darlings... only to find the place wrecked and none of the inhabitants anywhere to be found.
He had immediately grasped what it meant—his foolish students had apparently become involved with a foe or foes in his absence, powerful enough to attack the dojo head-on and force them to flee. He had realized that they were most likely in serious danger, and knowing that, there had been only one response to make.
Which was, of course, to stay as far away as possible, and come back when it had all blown over. Why should he get involved in something unpleasant like that? Especially when there were such lovely undergarments to be rescued...
The rooftops shot by underneath him, with not even a mob of pursuing women in sight; he had shaken the last one over an hour ago. Now he was free and clear. Just him, his precious treasure, and that strange commotion he could see off in the distance.
Happousai paused in his tracks, blinking. Just what was that, anyway? Dust clouds rising from the city, along with... were those arrows arcing through the air? Something odd was definitely afoot.
His curiosity warred with his inclination to avoid trouble, but in the end he decided it couldn't hurt to take a bit closer look, at least close enough to figure out just what was going on. He first found a safe place on one of the rooftops to stash his lacy treasures, and then began to head toward the source of the disturbance. Finally, he reached a vantage point where he got his first clear view of what was going on.
His heart nearly stopped at what he saw.
They weren't human. That much was obvious to anyone with even a minimal ability to sense ki—or anyone with eyes in their head. Some kind of monsters or demons, of a type Happousai couldn't ever recall encountering before. They were grouped together behind layers of defenses, standing atop the rubble in a wrecked section of the city, while shooting outward to destroy even more of the surrounding buildings. There were hundreds and hundreds of them, an honest-to-goodness army.
And they were all female. Every last one of them.
Happousai's eyes began to shine with bliss, scarcely daring to believe that this was real. Such an army of human women would have been glorious on its own, but this was, in its own way, even better. These monsters still had all the wonderful legs and hips and breasts, but—much like Ranma's cursed form—there would be no need to be as "gentle" with them as he would with a real woman. It was so... perfect!
Drawing himself up to his full height, such as it was, the ancient pervert struck a pose. Yes, in fact, these demons were a threat to the peace and safety of this entire ward, and it was his duty as a martial artist to take the action he was about to take. How heroic he was!
Then, a wide leer stretching across his face, he launched himself straight toward the youma army.
The wall of shields was his first obstacle. He aimed his course toward a section of it that would provide some decent footholds—a barrier of nasty, interwoven thorns—and proceeded to scamper up the face of it with lust-driven speed. His hands and feet suffered a few nicks, but the thought of what lay beyond drove him onward. Soon he shot over the top of it, diving out into space, and plummeting toward the army below.
He wasted no time, announcing his presence by falling straight onto the chest of the sexiest monster he could see with a cry of "Sweeto!" His target was a fox-like being, complete with the ears, tail and fangs, and wearing only strategically placed patches of fur. She shrieked in sudden terror and revulsion as the small, black-clad thing dropped out of the sky and buried itself into her breasts, nuzzling away at them.
She staggered back, making futile attempts to yank the tiny old man off. Her panicked cries drew the attention of her nearby comrades, who rushed to help her.
They succeeded... in drawing Happousai's attention to them as well. He leaped from his current victim to a fresh one, climbing up and down her shapely legs, pausing only to rub her rear. She thrashed frantically back and forth, trying to throw off the lecherous master, but to no avail.
Happousai was like a child in a candy store—a drooling, wrinkled child moving at speeds the eye could barely follow. He bounced from youma to youma like a demented pinball, groping, fondling, squeezing, sowing greater and greater chaos everywhere he went as the monsters tried to come to terms with this new assailant.
One, with giant lobster-like pincers for hands, lunged in at the old man, trying to grab hold of him. He spun to face her—then jerked back at the sight of her hideous, crustacean face. "Yeeech!" he shouted, hopping backward. "I don't want to play with you!"
The monster kept after him, trying to clamp down on his tiny form again and again. Happousai only danced around her attempts, laughing as he fulfilled his lusts on other, sexier demons. With a chittering snarl, she lunged once more at him with all the speed she could summon... and felt her pincers close on something. She raised her arm for a closer look.
Just in time to see the fuse on the Happodaikarin finish burning down.
The explosion was devastating, sending the tightly-packed youma flying every which way through the air, slamming into other youma as they landed. Happousai, however, was already gone, zipping away to find fresh targets to hold his interest.
Now the youma were really starting to panic, and some of the ones with ranged powers began to fire on the diminutive menace. None of them actually hit him, of course, but their shots did manage to hit plenty of other youma standing behind where he had just been, adding to the chaos.
Undaunted, the ancient pervert continued on. There were so many of them! So many different colors, flavors, types. A practically never-ending supply.
This, Happousai knew, was what heaven must be like.
The screams were Cologne's first clue that something had changed.
It wasn't an obvious clue; amidst the din of combat they were mostly drowned out at first. But her sharp ears picked them out over the crashes and explosions, noticing the difference between them and the normal battle cries that had been ringing out. There was something distinct about them, a note of shock, fear and revulsion coming from those youma that sounded...
...oddly familiar, somehow.
The shooting from the enemy's east flank began to falter, the sounds of chaos and panic from the other side of their shield-wall growing with each passing second. Then the old master heard a loud explosion from inside their ranks—an explosion that she instantly recognized.
Merciful ancestors, it's him, Cologne thought. I never thought I would live to see the day when I would be glad to encounter that old fool...
Even so, there was no time to waste. Rousing her tired limbs to action once more, she rocketed off toward their command post. They needed to respond to this turn of events, and quickly.
In moments she had arrived, barging through the door. Loofah looked over at her, a puzzled frown on her face. "Ke Lun, do you know what's going on?" she asked. "There's a disturbance in the youma army, and it's centered on something with a huge ki aura!"
"It's... help," Cologne said. "Of a sort. Do you remember a hundred and some years ago, a certain pervert who was hanging around our village?"
Loofah's eyes widened. "You mean... Happousai? He's still alive?"
"Yes. Despite the best efforts of many to remedy that." Cologne then flashed a humorless smile. "Which is, for once, fortunate, because he's fixated on those youma out there now."
"And after all those years, we encounter him again here..." breathed Loofah, shaking her head. Then she turned back to Cologne. "You know him best. What should our course of action be?"
"You should lead our main forces back to the Nekohanten," said Cologne without hesitation. "The number of warriors left that can still fight isn't worth the risk of a pretty girl distracting him away from the youma. Sou Pu and I will stay behind to fight—he won't be tempted by either of us."
Loofah opened her mouth to protest, and Cologne knew she wanted to stay as well. But at this point strategy was at an end; it would be a straight-up fight from here on out, and both of them knew that Loofah had pushed her crippled body past what was reasonable already.
Cologne spoke again, quieter this time. "There will be another day, old friend. We will need you for battles beyond this one."
Releasing a hiss of breath through clenched teeth, Loofah nodded. "Very well then. If you truly think that the three of you have a chance..."
"That man out there is more of a monster than the youma he's fighting," was Cologne's wry response. "And he's coming at them fresh. A chance? Yes, I think now we have a chance."
Soap alighted on the rooftop next to her older sister. The two stood in silence for a moment, listening to the chaos taking place behind the shields of the youma army. At length Soap spoke. "So Happi is still alive, eh?"
"Yes, and putting his perversions to a worthwhile use, for once," replied Cologne. "I expect flying pigs at any moment."
Her sister snorted. "Oh, you always hated him," she said. "He was always nice to me. Told me the funniest stories..."
"You were only seven when he came to our village," countered Cologne. "Had you been my age, you'd have a very different memory of him."
They observed the youma army some more, before Soap spoke again. "That many youma left... even for three of our level, it won't be easy. Especially with all the different abilities they might still have to throw at us, if they get organized enough to use them effectively."
Cologne nodded. "Which is why we should strive to keep them as disorganized as possible. We'll wait until they start to adjust themselves to Happousai's presence... then attack ourselves from the opposite direction. Keeping them off balance is the key. We'll need to hit them hard and fast, and at just the right moment."
Soap nodded in agreement. Listening intently, the two masters kept track of where Happi's trail of carnage was heading. They had to adjust their own position a few times, responding to changes in his course... but eventually Cologne detected what she was waiting for. "Now!"
The two ancient masters launched themselves at the shield-wall, scaling it and leaping over its edge. They dove into the thick of the youma, their canes slashing, spearing, killing with every blow.
The monsters tried to rally against the savage new attack, throwing themselves at their assailants with frenzied desperation. It was a maelstrom of violence, the two Joketsuzoku hacking away at the seemingly-endless tide of enemies.
A squat purple-and-blue youma charged howling at them, trying to impale them on the horns sprouting from her head. Soap grabbed her by one of those horns and spun, redirecting the charge so that it gored a youma that had been trying to circle around behind her instead. Then she brought her cane up to slice off the bull-youma's head.
More youma were swarming at Soap from behind... but just before they reached her they were plowed over by the body of one of their fellows, hurled through the air at blinding speeds by Cologne. They all went down in a cascading tangle of limbs, leaving them vulnerable to Soap. The elder pounced, her cane shredding them before they could rise.
Soap continued to press forward, spearing a green-skinned youma through the throat. At the same time her hand shot out behind her, catching a half-dozen metal spikes out of the air and hurling them back to kill the monster who had fired them, along with five others.
Without pausing, the elder lunged without toward her next target, a youma with claws reminiscent of a praying mantis. But before Soap could reach her, another youma leaped right into her path. This one was red-skinned, wielding a large battle axe on each arm. She swung both her weapons down at the ancient master, but Soap merely angled her course to one side, allowing the axes to embed into the ground. Then she spun, swinging her cane to hack the youma's leg off at the knee.
The youma toppled forward, impaling herself on Soap's upward cane stab. The elder then used the cane to fling the dying youma into a fur-covered canine monster who was charging at her from the side. It staggered the dog-like youma long enough for Soap to put a ki blast right between her eyes.
From behind her Soap heard a scream of rage, and the youma with the mantis claws threw herself at the old woman in a frenzied attack, hacking with all her might. The elder caught hold of one of her arms as it was about to strike her, yanking the youma forward, off-balance... and right into the hail of bladed discs that one of the ranged monster had just fired.
Soap's impromptu shield jerked and twisted as the blades struck her, soon crumbling into dust. The old master leapt straight through the youma's disintegrating body, cutting down the one who had fired the blades with a single swing of her cane, then spinning to attack the two youma on either side.
There were, of course, more right behind them. Soap dodged and twisted, dancing left and right while striking out with blinding speed. Off in the distance she could hear the screams and occasional explosion of Happousai's own chaotic path through the monsters, only adding to the mayhem.
Even so, the three of them could not be everywhere at once. The nearby youma had been thrown into disarray, and the old pervert was zipping through their ranks at random, but in other places the youma were starting to organize. A few tattered remnants of their aerial forces were already forming into strafing groups, and even on the ground the enemy was starting to come at them with increasingly effective formations.
And no matter how many they killed, there always seemed to be a relentless stream of replacements ready to pick up the attack.
Taking a deep breath, Soap stood with her sister against the unending horde. I will fight until every last drop of my strength is spent, she thought. And I will make them rue the day they made enemies of the Joketsuzoku.
Akane kept a firm grip on Sailor Moon, holding her to the ground in an armlock while Ukyo and Shampoo stood between her and Tuxedo Kamen. The young Senshi beneath her had been struggling frantically at first, but with the arrival of Akane's allies the fight seemed to have gone out of her completely. She was, in fact, crying without restraint, although Akane wasn't sure what had caused such an extreme reaction...
...and then, looking at Ukyo and Shampoo, and recalling who they had been fighting, it clicked. Oh, the poor kid... she thought, and spoke hurriedly to Ukyo. "Um... my fellow monster! Does this mean that you've captured the other Sailor Senshi for their parts in our evil plan?"
Ukyo glanced over her shoulder, a little puzzled. Then she looked down at Sailor Moon's tear-stained face, and her eyes widened slightly in understanding. "Oh! Yes, yes we have. They're both safely our prisoners—no need to worry about them showing up."
Beneath her, Akane felt Sailor Moon stiffen at the words, and her tears slowed to a stop. Good, thought the Tendo girl. No need to make this any worse than it has to be.
Ahead, Shampoo addressed Tuxedo Kamen. "Tuxedo-man not try anything funny," she warned. "Just be staying there. Monster is killing sailor-girl if not."
A scowl darkened Tuxedo Kamen's face, but there was nothing he could do, especially in his weakened state. Akane, for her part, was puzzled why Shampoo had even bothered with a threat at all... until she realized what the Joketsuzoku girl was doing.
In the condition he was in, it would certainly be trivial for Ukyo and Shampoo to beat the masked warrior... but beating up the opponents at Furinkan wouldn't accomplish Ranma's plan. Shampoo was using the "hostage situation" as a way to stall, to keep things going while they tried to work something out.
If we can just hang on, then Ranma will think up some crazy idea to make this all work out... Akane thought. He always does. In fact, I bet he's come up with something already...
We are in such deep trouble, thought Ranma, as he went over the situation for what seemed like the hundredth time. I have no idea how we're going to get out of this one...
He and Ryouga had hurried downstairs after defeating the DD Girls—or more accurately, Ranma had hurried, practically carrying his injured and spent rival. They had peeked in on the girls first, enough to see that they had matters well in hand, before retreating to figure out their next move.
Ryouga wasn't much help; he was slumped awkwardly against one of the walls, breath shuddering in and out, and seemed to be mostly focusing on staying conscious. Ranma, for his part, was pacing up and down the hallway they were standing in, trying to think.
They needed to find Beneda, and they needed to get the bowl back. But where to even start looking? They could be anywhere in the city, gone in any direction. How could they possibly track her?
Racking his brain, Ranma considered every possibility he could think of, no matter how remote. Didn't Beneda say something once about the Senshi having a way to detect youma? If we could use that...
Then he turned and started pacing back the other way. But we don't know how they do it, and I don't know how we'd get them to tell us. Heck, it might not even work for anybody but them.
He cursed under his breath. What am I supposed to do? he wondered. How am I supposed to find someone who could be anywh—
But his thoughts were interrupted by the sudden sound of running footsteps, growing ever nearer. He whirled toward them, even as Ryouga lurched back to his feet. Both boys readied themselves, preparing to defend against whatever it was that was coming...
...only to see Beneda stumble around the corner, gasping for breath.
"Beneda!" Both of them hurried over, Ranma catching her by the shoulder to steady her. She had obviously run herself ragged; she was sucking in air with deep wheezes, and was practically doubled over. Ryouga kept on talking. "You're all right! What happened with Kodachi? Did she hurt you?"
The youma shook her head. "Fought... her..." she managed to pant. "Then... Darkmistress... But Mousse... showed up... Saved us... Ran back here... fast as I could... Jadeite... watching the front... Had to sneak... around the back..." She took a few more shuddering breaths, then raised her arm to offer Ranma what she held in her hand.
The bowl.
Ranma let out a whoop, snatching hold of the magical item as though he were afraid it would vanish again if he delayed. "You got it back!" he exulted, turning it over and over in his hands. "This is great! We gotta get this to the gym right away!"
He looked back and forth between the lost boy and the youma, a wild grin growing across his face. "See? I told you everything was going to work out! We're back in the game!"
Luna stared fretfully at Furinkan High, trying to sense the artifact that was key to this whole situation, and trying not to let worry for the Senshi consume her. Previously she had also been watching Jadeite for signs of betrayal... but with the obliteration of his forces, the wounded General was no longer much of a threat.
Not compared to what they were facing inside that building.
But no matter how hard she tried to concentrate, her fears kept plaguing her. The girls were in there alone now, up against an enemy that had already crushed the five elite youma that had gone in there with them. How would they manage now? For all she knew, they might already be...
The cat shook her head. No! No, she wouldn't believe that. There had to be a way to turn this around. There had to be!
A soft intake of breath from Jadeite caused her to look up at him. The Dark General frowned in concentration, then looked down at her as well. "Can you sense it?" he asked. "From inside the building. Magic!"
Sudden hope filling her, Luna focused with newfound determination, trying to pick out what Jadeite was referring to. At first she met with no success... but then she detected it as well.
It was faint. Very faint. Even with Jadeite alerting her she only barely managed to sense its presence. "Could this really be it?" she asked, scarcely daring to believe. "It's far less powerful than I would have expected from a dimensional key..."
"Obviously it's due to their shielding," replied Jadeite. "We couldn't even detect it at all until just now. They must be funneling so much magical power into it that their concealment spells can no longer hide it completely!"
Luna's breath caught in her throat. If they were pouring that kind of power into the artifact, then it had to mean... "They're about to do it," she whispered. "They're about to bring through their army."
Immediately, her paw stabbed down to activate the communicator on the ground in front of her. She had to tell the Senshi! If Sailor Mercury's theory about the artifact—and the Dark Lords' dependence on it—was correct, then they still had a chance to turn this around!
The communicator beeped. And beeped. And beeped. And beeped.
Each time the tone sounded with no response, Luna's heart constricted a little more. But she refused to give up hope. They're... probably fighting... she thought. It would certainly make sense if none of them could respond right away.
The communicator continued to beep.
Then, with a click, a connection was made, causing Luna's spirit to soar as an image came into focus in the viewing screen...
...an image of Shampoo.
The moon cat's heart nearly stopped beating. Shampoo, for her part, seemed to be fiddling with the communicator on her end, until she realized that Luna's image had appeared. "Oh, is only cat," she said. "Cat stop making annoying beep-beep noise with machine. Sailor-girl not be taking your call."
And then, with a stab of her finger, Shampoo killed the connection, leaving Luna with only an empty screen.
Luna stared numbly at the inert communicator, feeling her spirit crumple in on itself. The girls... They had been... It wasn't possible, and yet...
"Well, that's about all I expected from them," muttered Jadeite. "And with those three dead, it means there's only the two of us left. This is going to be... interesting."
The moon cat barely even heard him. It's all my fault... she realized. I was the one who made them into warriors... and for what? To just throw them under the wheels of some insane plan of conquest, without even slowing it down? I... I never thought it would end like this...
Jadeite looked down at her for a few moments, then with a scowl he reached down and yanked the cat up by the scruff of the neck, holding her so that they were looking at each other face to face. "Pull yourself together!" he snapped. "Don't you have any pride as a servant of good? Are you really just going to let those Dark Lords win like this? Surely this isn't all your side is capable of!"
Luna blinked, Jadeite's harsh words breaking through to her. He's... right, she thought. For the sake of the world... for the sake of making sure the girls didn't die in vain... we have to stop them.
She closed her eyes, then nodded once. Satisfied, Jadeite dropped her immediately. She realized that with as many broken bones as he had, it must have hurt him intensely even just to hold her up like that.
We're neither of us very intimidating at the moment, she thought. But even if we can't do anything in the end... I'll fight those bastards to my dying breath.
Then she turned, facing toward Furinkan High, toward the sense they had of the magical artifact. "All right," she said, her voice still thick with emotion. "Let's go."
Mousse gathered his strength, leaping from the rooftop he was standing on to the next. His limbs felt like lead weights, and his wounds ached with every movement. I... probably shouldn't have had Beneda drain that much ki... he admitted, if only internally. I seem to have... overestimated myself.
He paused for a moment to catch his breath, his hands resting on his knees, propping himself up. Then he was running again, building after building going by under his feet, albeit at a much slower pace than he would have normally taken.
As he approached his destination, a knot of worry began to form in his stomach. He could hear no sounds of combat, could see no arrows or youma attacks shooting back and forth. The hidden weapons master frowned. Could it really be over already?
And if so... who had won?
He increased his speed, ignoring the protests of his body. At his new rate he arrived at the site of the battle in minutes... and his eyes widened at what he saw.
The entire area had been wrecked, buildings smashed into rubble across a space the size of a stadium, leaving the ground strewn everywhere with their remains. He could not see the Joketsuzoku army anywhere... but he could see Cologne and Soap.
They were sitting together, toward the center of the devastation, slumped against a tiny remnant of still-standing wall. Both their robes were stained heavily with blood, although their major wounds had been given a hasty field dressing. Soap, in particular, had a large bandage covering her left eye, and most of the left side of her face.
Of the vast youma army, all that remained were about ten youma, huddled together in a shell-shocked group as Happousai scurried monkey-like among them, groping and fondling.
Mousse eventually realized that his jaw was hanging wide open. He shut it, then jumped down into the vast open space that the battle had created and made his way over to where the two elders sat.
Cologne looked up as he drew near. "Ah, there you are," she said. "Did you take care of the errand Loofah sent you on?"
The hidden weapons master nodded. "It was the Darkmistress that had broken away," he told her. "We don't need to worry about her anymore."
"Excellent." A tired, yet satisfied smile crossed Cologne's face. "The loss of a Dark Kingdom army, and the loss of one of their leaders as well. This has been a good day."
Mousse, for his part, was still staring down at the two ancient masters. Never once, in all his life, had he ever seen either of them look so utterly exhausted. Not that it was surprising, considering what they had accomplished. He glanced over at what remained of the youma army, then back down at the two tiny, fragile-looking old crones... and he had to suppress a shudder.
"You did it..." the hidden weapons master breathed. "I can't believe you actually beat them all..." Then he frowned. "But our army. Where are the rest...?"
"Had them slip away," Cologne replied, gesturing toward where Happousai was indulging himself. "Didn't want him seeing them. We'll be taking those youma with us as well, once Happi gets bored. From what I saw, they seemed to be the ones in command—officers of some kind. They should be able to tell us a fair bit if we interrogate them."
Mousse turned to survey the ruined surroundings once more, the reality of their victory still sinking in. Relief started to seep through him, his hands shaking a little as he began to really process the magnitude of what he had just survived. They had gone up against impossible odds, fought ancient enemies from before the dawn of recorded history, and yet here they were. Alive, on the other side of it. Despite himself, a giddy little half-chuckle escaped his lips.
And then he heard another sound, one that he had not expected to hear, one that seemed incongruous to the situation. It came from behind him, and above.
The sound of someone applauding.
Slowly Mousse turned around, raising his gaze to where the sound was coming from, looking into the air at the three figures hovering there. To the left, a slender man with strawberry-blond hair tied back in a ponytail. To the right, a brown-haired man who watched them with an unreadable expression. And in the center, a broad-shouldered man with long white hair and a dark cloak. It was he who was clapping, as he looked down at them.
"Impressively done," the white-haired man said. "To accomplish this much, even against a weak fool like Jadeite, is worthy of respect."
The elders had turned around as well, tightening their grips on their canes. "And that would make you Kunzite, I presume?" asked Cologne.
"You are well-informed about us..." was Kunzite's response. "Likewise, I assume you know of my fellow generals, Zoisite and Nephrite." He gestured to each in turn.
"I see," Cologne replied. "So your armies having failed, you come out to face us in person then?"
At that, Zoisite turned to the white-haired General. "She thinks our armies have failed, Kunzite!" he said, his tone eager. "Can we bring them through? Let them see what they're really up against?"
Kunzite frowned. "Why? It's hardly necessary at this point. If this is all that remains on the battlefield the overkill would be absurd—even as a precaution."
"But it was so much trouble getting them all assembled," pleaded the blond general. "Don't you want to at least use them? After what Jadeite's already done here, it's not as though it would be any worse exposure for us, and chances like that don't come along every day!"
Kunzite turned to Nephrite, who shrugged disinterestedly, then spoke. "It would keep them from trying to escape, at least."
"True enough," the white-haired general allowed. "Very well, then. If you truly think—"
In that moment, while Kunzite was looking at Nephrite, Cologne's hand shot into her sleeve with cobra-like speed, and she hurled a half-dozen senbon needles at Kunzite's head. The weapons hissed through the air on their deadly errand... only to stop cold an inch from Kunzite's face, hanging in midair, caught in his telekinetic grasp.
"—that it is worthwhile, then I see no reason not to," the Dark General finished. Then he turned, and looked directly at the motionless weapons. Each of them simultaneously snapped in half, the pieces tumbling down to join the rest of the debris below. He then proceeded to raise his hand, and made a small gesture.
Starting behind him, then spreading out all along the ridge of still-standing buildings that surrounded the devastated area, dark portals began to open in midair, and youma began to pour through them. It was like watching water bursting forth from a dam, as they leaped through the swirling holes in reality, rushing out to blanket the rooftops, then spilling down onto the ground beneath.
Zoisite and Nephrite were opening portals as well, increasing the flow, but even combined their contribution was far eclipsed by Kunzite's. Regardless, within moments the area had been entirely surrounded, thousands of youma blanketing the perimeter in every direction.
Mousse looked back and forth, his eyes wide. "We... we have to fight all of them?" he whispered to Cologne, stunned by the sudden and complete reversal.
Evidently, Kunzite's senses were much sharper than Mousse had given him credit for, since the Dark General answered him. "No, boy," he said. "You're not that lucky."
He levitated downward, followed by the other two. As he descended, raw power began to coalesce around him, power that felt vast as the ocean and cold as the grave. Mousse stumbled, his knees almost buckling, his lungs having difficulty taking in air, as he came under the crushing presence of the greatest of Beryl's generals.
Kunzite's feet touched ground in a swirl of dust, and he spoke again. "These youma are not your opponents," he told them. "They are the audience."
Cologne raised her cane, holding it at the ready between herself and Kunzite. Around her, the air was filled with the shouts, catcalls and jeers that the youma army directed at her, but she blocked it all out, letting it wash over her as she focused on the white-haired general.
I must be the one to fight him, she thought. Even for my sister, I fear this will be a foe beyond her abilities.
Not that Cologne had particularly high hopes for herself either, but she was still the best choice. If only I were at full strength! Then, perhaps... But no, I must focus on what I have to work with, and see what I can accomplish against him.
Kunzite met her eyes, silently accepting her challenge. He turned to face her squarely, then crossed his arms, waiting.
Cologne did not keep him waiting long. She burst into motion, racing toward the Dark General, the ground shooting by under her tiny feet. As she neared the imposing figure she put on an extra burst of speed, nearly vanishing from sight as she leapt into the air and swung her cane at the side of his neck.
The general did not move an inch. The instant before the blow struck home he simply vanished in a flicker of energy. Cologne's strike slashed harmlessly through the empty air, even as she felt Kunzite's presence reappear directly behind her, launching a salvo of magical blasts at her airborne form.
Cologne's arm shot down, jamming the tip of her cane into the pavement and using it to twist herself away on a different course, her tiny body corkscrewing between the flying spheres of dark energy. She hit ground, her feet skidding across it, but then had to leap away as the General continued his barrage. Explosions traced Cologne's path as she darted backward, threading left and right between the bolts of destructive magic.
Nor was Kunzite the only threat. Off to the side, Zoisite was gathering fire in his palms, preparing to support the other general's attack. But then the blond general ducked, a split-second before Mousse shot by overhead, leg scything around in a jump kick that had been aimed as Zoisite's skull.
"Look to your own battles first!" the hidden weapons master called out as he landed, drawing a pair of tonfa from his sleeves. "I am your opponent!"
Behind Cologne, she could hear yet more thundering explosions, and knew that her sister had entered into combat with Nephrite. She did not turn to look, however, keeping her concentration on her own foe as she swerved around his attacks.
Slipping underneath one of the blasts, she thrust out two fingers at Kunzite. A focused burst of her own ki shot out, threading between the general's magical bombardment to shoot straight at his chest. But he only teleported again, appearing directly above her this time and hurling down a sphere of power that blasted a gaping crater in the earth and showered Cologne with debris despite her evasion.
Panting for breath, the ancient master craned her neck to look up at the general. "Is this all?" she asked, trying to stall, to buy as much time to rest as she could. She had been running on fumes before this fight even started, and each exertion was only adding to the toll. "Not bad, I suppose, but from someone of your reputation I was expecting something a bit more..."
Kunzite only raised an eyebrow. "You wish to see more than this?" he asked. "Prove yourself worthy of it first." Then, his power swelling once more, he cast down a rain of destruction from above. Cologne backpedaled, trying to come up with a way to turn the tables...
...and then, from off to the side, a small, round bomb arced its way toward Kunzite's head, fuse burning.
The general jerked back, throwing up an arm reflexively. The bomb exploded, its blast crashing into a dark barrier that had formed just in time. Behind it, Kunzite's cloak billowed from what little of the shockwave managed to flow around the edges of his shield.
Both combatants turned, to see the diminutive figure of Happousai standing where the bomb had come from. "Now you listen here, youngster!" the ancient pervert called up to Kunzite. "Raising a racket and throwing around such a disgusting aura as that... you're interfering with a poor old man's few remaining pleasures in life! You'd better take this fight of yours someplace else, and let me enjoy these pretty ladies in peace!"
Kunzite only smiled in reply. "Ah, yes. I was almost afraid you weren't going to join the battle."
"I'm not joining anything!" shot back the old man. "I know what's really important in life. Your little squabble isn't any concern of mine."
"No?" asked Kunzite, raising an eyebrow. "Then allow me to make it one." With that he raised his hand, and launched a brief series of magical blasts at the ancient pervert, causing his target to yelp and jump out of the way.
What is he doing? wondered Cologne, a frown crossing her face. That didn't even look like a serious attempt to kill Happi. He wasn't trying to destroy him... he was trying to force him to fight! Why? There's something strange going on here.
But whatever his intentions in provoking the old master, he had certainly succeeded. "All right," Happousai growled, a dangerous glint now in his eyes. "I see that someone needs a lesson in respect for their elders."
Kunzite laughed. "Then by all means," he said. "Show me what you are capable of." As he spoke, he rose high into the air, his power manifesting in waves of darkness, flowing out of him to stain the very air around them black. A whirling spherical shield of dark energy appeared around his body, wrapping him completely, while his palms flashed with lurid purple lightning.
"Indeed," he continued. "Against two of you... I may have to take this fight a bit more seriously."
Soap darted in on the attack, her cane blurring in strike after strike. Nephrite flew backward, trying to keep his distance, but eventually he was forced to soar skyward to avoid the old master's charge.
She did not follow herself, instead twirling her weapon to direct a focused vortex of air up at her opponent. The Dark General responded with a ghostly blue magic blast, the two attacks colliding head-on. Nephrite's ripped straight through her own, continuing down to slam into the earth where she had just been standing.
Can't match him in power head-on, the old woman thought, looking up at him. And his flight is bothersome too... How best to attack him up there?
The general followed his attack with a barrage of smaller, faster blasts, steadily increasing in speed and number until they showered down like raindrops in a storm. Soap weaved between them, breathing a prayer of thanks for her small size.
Eventually, Nephrite paused in his assault. "Your martial skills are exceptional," he acknowledged, looking down at the smoking, shattered concrete beneath him. "Attacking you like this is useless, and it would be dangerous to fight someone like you at close range. At least... it would be using normal methods."
As he spoke, his body seemed to split, over a dozen semi-transparent replicas of himself shooting out to either side. Even the original body became transparent as well, forming a long row of identical figures.
They spoke in unison, Nephrite's voice coming from each. "O Regulus, star of Leo, shining in the southern night sky, grant me your power!"
At once the images vanished, then reappeared as smaller versions of themselves, arranged in a shape that Soap recognized as the constellation Leo. They shrunk to bright points of light, as glowing yellow lines appeared connecting them. Then the shape of a lion formed around that framework, its color a pale blue. It gradually became more and more solid, until it dropped from the air and landed in front of Soap with a roar.
The old woman wasted no time, bursting into a run straight toward the creature. It ran to meet her as well, the two rocketing toward each other with deadly intent.
As they neared each other the lion pounced, but Soap slipped easily between its paws and used her accumulated momentum to drive her cane squarely between the lion's eyes. The crack of the resulting impact echoed across the battlefield, and the beast flew backward through the air with a howl of pain.
Soap followed, leaping up into the air after it. She grabbed it by the mane, swung it around, then fired a ki blast into its stomach that smashed it back down to earth. She landed on top of it, using her fall to drive her cane as deep as she could into the thing's neck, and then rip it out sideways.
She was rewarded by the ugly gash her attack carved across its throat. But any sense of satisfaction was soon erased as the "wound" sealed back up, vanishing as though it had never been. It seems this construct cannot be killed by normal means, Soap thought, as she jumped back off the beast. Instead, I should focus on the caster. Where is he?
"O Kaus Australis, star of Sagittarius, shining in the southern night sky, grant me your power!"
The old master looked over her shoulder, in time to see a large centaur armed with an even larger bow take shape behind her. Its body was made out of the same spectral blue essence, and no sooner had it formed than it brought its weapon around to target her.
Its bow released a shaft of blinding blue light, one that she avoided by mere inches. It shot past her, drilling deep into the ground, even as the centaur readied another such arrow to his weapon. Meanwhile, the lion had regained its footing, and was stalking toward her as well.
"O Alioth, star of Ursa Maj—"
Soap whirled, her hand snapping out, launching a series of short, rapid ki blasts in quick succession. They sailed harmlessly though the transparent images of Nephrite, doing nothing to disrupt his spell, though they did at least drown out the rest of the incantation. Nevertheless, a few moments later the blue form of a giant bear was lumbering toward the embattled elder.
"Not bad..." Soap said, holding her cane in a defensive position as the three constructs circled her. "But how long can you keep this up? It must require an exertion of your own strength to keep them here..."
A laugh from behind caused Soap to turn, and she saw that Nephrite was floating there. "An exertion?" he asked, in an amused tone of voice. "These toys? Hardly. But you have been a worthy opponent, old woman... and so I will indeed show you what it means for a Dark General to exert himself."
He drew himself up, splitting into his replicas once more. "O Eltanin..." they intoned, power swirling around each of them. "Star of Draco... shining in the northern night sky... grant me your power!"
Despite herself, Soap's jaw dropped a little at what formed then. It descended from above as it took shape, its long, coiling body utterly dwarfing all the constructs that had come before it. It arced through the air with serpentine grace, propelled by a single flap of its bat-like wings. When it finally landed, the earth shook under the impact.
Then the dragon turned, focused its reptilian eyes on Soap, and drew in a deep breath.
Soap ran. She sprinted for all she was worth, trying to put as much distance as she could between her and what was coming. The next instant there was a terrible roar, and a wall of searing flame burst from the dragon's mouth, incinerating everything behind her as she tried desperately to outrun it.
Her tiny body shot like a bullet along the ground, the dragonfire raging at her heels. She could feel its hellish heat, catching up to her even as it spread out to wash over everything in the vicinity. Putting everything into one final leap, she flung herself forward with all her strength, then jammed her cane into the ground and used that to propel herself even faster.
She hit ground hard, skidding for a long way until she came to a stop. Looking up, she saw that she had escaped the outer edge of the dragonfire by a matter of feet. Past that, everything was a blackened cone of destruction, stretching all the way back to the monster, who was even now glaring balefully at her, while the other three constructs took up positions beside it, and Nephrite hovered overhead.
Climbing slowly back to her feet, the old master took a long look at the odds facing her. Well, she thought philosophically. This could certainly be going better.
The hidden weapons master gritted his teeth, forcing his weary arms to slash with a shortsword at Zoisite's head. The blond general stepped back at the last moment, casually allowing the blade to hiss past. Mousse spun, pulling out an identical shortsword with his other hand and chasing after his foe in a whirling pattern of cuts. But Zoisite moved around them all with the same nonchalant disdain.
Mousse bit back a vicious curse. Around him, he could hear the sounds of violence as the other generals fought Cologne, Happousai and Soap. He had no idea how the old masters were keeping this up. The two women had seemed even more exhausted than him when he had first returned, but they were still fighting with feverish intensity, apparently drawing on some hidden reserve known only to such ridiculously powerful old crones.
He, on the other hand...
Air exploded from the nearsighted boy's lungs as Zoisite ducked under one of his attacks and drove his foot into Mousse's stomach. A cheer thundered from the watching youma at the telling hit, as Mousse stumbled back.
He had seen the attack coming, but his reactions had been too sluggish to do anything besides brace himself. The hidden weapons master tried to cover his retreat with a series of wild swings, but the Dark General slipped around them all, then spun into a backhand that smashed across Mousse's face, sending him reeling off to one side.
Zoisite followed at a leisurely pace, watching the young fighter with interest, occasionally striking him again when it looked like he might be about to get his balance back. "Come now!" the general exhorted him, as he drove a fist into the side of Mousse's head. "Where's all the fighting spirit you had, back when you were fighting Jadeite's youma in the air? I wanted to see some of that! Surely you haven't used it all up?"
A snarl escaped Mousse's lips, and a surge of anger gave him the strength to counterattack with something closer to his normal speed. He jammed his hands deep into his sleeves, then flung them out in a shower of knives that flew toward his target.
Overconfident as he was, Zoisite was caught off-guard by the sudden ferocity of the offensive. He let out a yelp, ducking and twisting. Even so, one of the blades put a gash in the side of the general's arm, while another one nicked the side of his face.
Zoisite let loose a howl of rage, and lunged at Mousse with incredible speed. The general's hand shot out, grabbing the hidden weapons master by the front of his robes and hoisting him into the air. Pink energy glowed in his palm, and with a cry of "Zoi!" he released it into Mousse's chest at point-blank range.
The young fighter was blasted backward, flipping end over end before crashing back down to earth. Arms trembling, he eventually fought his way back up to his hands and knees, only to see Zoisite standing over him.
"You. Cut. My. Face." The Dark General extended his arm, and with a flash of light, a green, crystalline blade appeared in his hand. "Now I am going to cut you. Slowly."
Ranma raced into the gymnasium, only pausing for a moment to once again admire the trappings that had changed it from a wholesome place of exercise to a villainous lair. The heavy curtains they had added had been drawn across all the windows, casting the place into gloom. The now-black walls were appropriately foreboding, and the glow-in-the-dark paint they had used for the random sigils was shining eerily.
He hurried over to the far left side of the gym, jogging between the piles of mystical-looking paraphernalia that they had scrounged together for extra atmosphere. With a sigh of relief, he reached the altar where it stood nestled off against the wall, and placed the bowl atop it.
Then, grinning, he turned to Ryouga and Beneda, who had just entered the gym themselves. The youma was all but carrying the injured lost boy; he had one arm around her shoulder, and she was supporting most of his weight. Raising his head, Ryouga spoke. "So it's all ready now?"
"Almost." Darting over to the stage, Ranma opened the trap door and jumped down through it into the haphazard control room they had set up there. He noticed, in passing, that Gosunkugi was lying unconscious on the floor, but he only shrugged and continued with what he was doing. He could figure out what was up with that later, when he had time.
It took him only a few seconds to find the small, airtight container that he had stashed there earlier that day. Leaping back up through the trap door, he jogged back over to the altar.
"Since we're using a bowl, I figured we ought to have something to put in it, you know? For effect." The pigtailed fighter opened the container as he spoke, and immediately all three of them jerked back a little at the foul odor coming from inside it.
Ranma proceeded to pour out a generous helping of a vile-looking sludge into the bowl. "What is that?" asked Beneda, looking slightly nauseous.
"Well, we're supposed to be evil overlords, right?" asked Ranma. "So I just got some of the most horrible, repulsive stuff I could think of, to keep with our image."
At that, Ryouga's head snapped up angrily. "Ranma!" he demanded. "How dare you talk about Akane's miso soup that way!"
Ranma snorted. "Listen, pork chop, you didn't have to deal with the tomboy trying to make you eat this stuff, so..." His voice trailed off, as he stared at the bowl. The "soup" inside it had begun to bubble. "...the hell?"
The three of them watched, transfixed, as the sludge in the bowl was slowly brought to an even simmer. They waited, holding their breath for something else to happen, but it simply remained there, bubbling away. "What's going on here?" Ryouga asked at last.
"Well..." Beneda said, frowning. "I know what we're tricking the Dark Kingdom and the Senshi into thinking the bowl's magic is, but... did we ever find out what it's actually supposed to do?"
Slowly, tentatively, Ranma walked back over to the bowl and stuck his finger into the bubbling liquid. Then he turned to face the other two. "It heats up food," he said, a disbelieving expression on his face. "It's a glorified magical microwave! How the hell is this supposed to be an 'important Joketsuzoku treasure'?"
There was a long, uncomfortable pause. "Maybe they really like their food hot?" Ryouga eventually offered.
Ranma's reaction was to give a suspicious glare over in the direction of the part of the building that Shampoo was in. Then he sighed and shook his head. "All right. You two start lighting the incense sticks, fire up the fog machine, and then get down below the stage to run things from there. I'll go grab one of the Senshi."
Ryouga and Beneda nodded, and Ranma turned to go. But before he left, he spared one last look at the altar, the bowl resting safely atop it. He looked at all the arcane symbols they had covered the altar with... as well as the triangle of three ordinary kanji that he himself had added to its front earlier that day.
He didn't expect the Senshi to realize the significance of those three kanji, of course. They were simply written as his own private joke, his personal summation of what they were about to do.
Cracking a grin, Ranma turned and headed off toward where the girls had Tuxedo Kamen and Sailor Moon pinned down. Okay, he thought. Time to get this show on the road.
It was the voices that woke Gosunkugi.
He had been drifting closer and closer to reality, but it was the sound of shouting above him that finally pushed him back into the waking world. Something about a "glorified magical microwave."
For a few seconds he was completely disoriented, looking back and forth as his thoughts and memories tried to pull themselves out of the jumbled mess they were in. He remembered Saotome's youma, and how she had suspected his duplicity. She had pushed him against the wall, threatened him, and then... blackness.
She must have knocked him out, of course, upon realizing that her interrogation would never crack his resolve. Yes, that was the only possible explanation for his sudden loss of consciousness.
He was so wrapped up in his remembrance of the event that he almost missed hearing what Ranma was saying above him: "All right. You two start lighting the incense sticks, fire up the fog machine, and then get down below the stage to run things from there. I'll go grab one of the Senshi."
Gosunkugi's blood froze, as the implications of what he had just heard settled in his mind. Had he really been out that long? Saotome had already started his scheme!
He was right in the middle of Saotome's scheme!
The pale boy shot to his feet, looking wildly around. He had to get out of here! If the Senshi were here, then the Dark Kingdom couldn't be far behind. And even worse, if Gosunkugi's own plan went off while he was still here...
He threw himself headlong toward the nearby door, flinging it open and racing up the stairs to the floor above, emerging backstage. From there he ran toward the building's closest exit at a dead sprint, while at the same time trying to be as silent and stealthy as possible. The taste of fear filled his mouth, as he realized the full danger of his situation. This was no game. If the Dark Kingdom was here, if they did find him...
...they would kill him.
The thought pushed him to run even faster, and he shot toward the exit with a speed he hadn't known he was capable of.
Luna scampered across the Furinkan schoolyard, keeping an eye out for any sign of their enemies. But she reached her destination unhindered, a small side door in the building wall.
Moments later, Jadeite levitated down beside her, fighting back a wince at even that slight impact. He then looked down at her. "Are you ready?" he asked.
The moon cat thought through their plan once more. They would attempt stealth first, but if they were discovered Jadeite would act as a distraction, using his teleportation to stay ahead of the Dark Lords for as long as he could. Meanwhile, the smaller Luna would keep trying to find—and destroy—the bowl that was the key to all of this.
It was a desperate, last-ditch plan, with little real chance of success, but it was all they had. They were banking everything on the cooperation of two former enemies, one whose condition was so fragile that the slightest bump was excruciating, and the other who had practically no offensive abilities to begin with. For a second the two of them locked eyes, each understanding the odds against them, each understanding the cost should they fail.
But we won't fail, Luna told herself. We can't fail, not with so much at stake. We have to pull this off. Together.
The cat gave a short nod, which Jadeite returned. Then, taking a deep breath, the Dark General turned and reached out his hand to open the door.
Just before he touched it, the door burst wide open, its edge slamming directly into Jadeite's face and torso. The general stumbled back with an agonized gurgle, even as Gosunkugi Hikaru came hurtling through the doorway at a blind run. The boy plowed right into the Dark Kingdom leader, the two of them toppling over, arms flailing, to crash into the ground, Gosunkugi on top.
The panic-stricken boy attempted to rise, his hands scrambling all across Jadeite's body in an attempt to find purchase. He managed to push himself partway up to his feet... but then his foot slipped and he fell back down, his forearm gouging into Jadeite's ribcage.
Finally, Gosunkugi managed to collect himself enough to get his feet under him. He fled in terror, trampling right over the prone general's body in the process and disappearing off into the distance.
For a few seconds Luna simply stood there, open-mouthed, until finally she snapped herself out of her stunned stupor. "Jadeite!" she exclaimed. "Are you... all right?"
Jadeite made no reply, only writhed about on the ground. Luna glanced around helplessly, then at last turned back to the general, deciding to give it her best shot. "Pull yourself together!" she exhorted. "Don't you have any pride as a servant of evil? Are you really just going to let those Dark Lords win like this? Surely this isn't all your side is capable of!"
The only response Jadeite gave was a small whimper, as he pulled himself into a twitching, fetal ball.
Luna hesitated, but by now it was clear that Jadeite had been taken out of the fight. She was on her own. If the odds against her had seemed daunting before, now they seemed utterly crushing.
But even so, she moved forward. Stepping through the doorway, she walked alone into her enemies' lair, ready to make one last stand against their tyrannical ambitions.
Tuxedo Kamen watched the three opponents he was up against, searching for any sign of a weakness, trying not to let the throbbing ache in his rib cage distract him. The brainwashed girl, Shampoo, was out in front, while the spatula-wielding youma was covering the youma with the mask, who was in turn holding Sailor Moon down. He could see no way to make a move without them killing the blonde girl long before he could free her.
Fortunately, they seemed content with a stalemate for now, allowing him to gather his strength for when he made his move. Not that he knew what that move was going to be, given his current condition. He doubted he had any chance of taking on Shampoo now, much less Shampoo backed up by her spatula monster.
He had to think of something. But at this point, the only thing he could think of was to pray for a miracle.
What happened, however, was the exact opposite. Without warning, the Dark Lord Ranma himself strode into the room. Every combatant there turned to face him, as he raised his fist and began to speak. "Rejoice, my minions!" he proclaimed. "Everything is ready! We are about to begin the ceremony!"
Shampoo and her two monsters exchanged quick glances. Sudden smiles lit up the faces of the ones without masks, and Tuxedo Kamen expected that a similar smile was on the face of the masked one as well.
"Now, just like we planned!" continued Ranma. "Soon this entire planet will be ours, conquered by our unstoppable army! Victory is at hand!" Then, laughing madly, he turned with a swirl of his cape and left the way he had come.
It was his last, best chance, and Tuxedo Kamen took it. He leapt on the attack while his opponents were all distracted by the news, hurling roses as he closed. Shampoo leapt out of the way, while the spatula-youma used her weapon to deflect his attacks. He swung his cane at her... and to his surprise, she retreated from it.
Nor was it just her. The masked youma also jumped to her feet and backed defensively away, leaving Sailor Moon free to clamber back up.
The three enemies watched the two heroes from behind their fighting stances, while Tuxedo Kamen stood protectively between them and Sailor Moon. His mind was running through his options, none of which were good. The opponents facing them weren't attacking yet, but he had no doubt that they would be on them the instant he and Sailor Moon turned their backs.
But if nothing else, at least he might be able to buy time. "Go after him, Sailor Moon!" he called out. "Find some way to stop that ceremony! I'll deal with these three!"
Sailor Moon paled, opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again, nodded, and scampered off in the direction Ranma had gone. Tuxedo Kamen, meanwhile, tightened his grip on his cane... and prepared to sell his life as dearly as he could.
For their part, the three enemies didn't even seem particularly concerned with the escaping Sailor Moon. They simply began to converge on Tuxedo Kamen, the masked one cracking her knuckles, the spatula youma readying a trio of her small throwing spatulas, and Shampoo twirling her mace in a menacing fashion.
Tuxedo Kamen swallowed, hard.
Blinding flashes of light exploded all around Cologne, as she, Happousai and Kunzite all unleashed their powers, obliterating everything in the vicinity. The Dark General was beset on both sides, but he shrugged off their every attack. Bombs and ki blasts alike splashed harmlessly off his shield, while he answered with wave upon wave of magical annihilation.
With an angry shout Happousai's battle aura flared, looming above all of them in a giant-sized version of himself. The aura projection linked its fingers, raised both hands high above its head, and brought them down on Kunzite's hovering form in a single, cataclysmic blow.
Cologne raised an arm in front of her face, averting her eyes slightly from the burst of light as aura and shield collided. Kunzite extended his hand palm-outward, fighting to maintain his defenses, even as the Anything Goes grandmaster fought to smash them. Nevertheless, it was already clear to Cologne what the outcome would be. That shield is too powerful for us to break directly, she thought. We have to use a different method.
While using one hand to support his barrier, Kunzite charged a sphere of energy in the other, then hurled it down at Happousai's real body. The attack tore apart the old man's ki projection on the way down, forcing the ancient pervert to leap away as the sphere hit the ground, releasing a thunderous explosion.
By the time the Happousai's feet touched ground, Cologne was standing next to him. "Having fun, Happi?" she asked.
"Eh, just wait 'till I get in a few more shots..." grumbled the old man, glaring up at the Dark General where he calmly hovered, waiting for them to attack again. "I'll pound him into the asphalt soon enough."
"I'm sure you will," replied Cologne neutrally. Then she continued in an undertone. "However, if you want to speed things up, I have a plan. I may be able to attack him behind that shield... but from what I've seen, I expect it will require most of my remaining strength. You will have to take the finishing blow."
Happousai's eyes lit up, and he began to cackle. "Leave it to me!" he told her. "I'll blast that upstart whelp so hard he'll wish he'd never been born!"
Cologne eyed her ally long and hard. "This is no game, Happi!" she hissed. "We will only get one chance, and the window will be brief. If we don't finish him quickly, you won't get out of this with just your usual beating."
But the old fool only waved her off. "You just worry about your part," he said, still laughing maliciously. "Because there isn't anybody who could get back up after what I'm going to do to him."
The Joketsuzoku elder opened her mouth to say more, but Happousai was already bouncing away, circling back and forth around Kunzite as he waited for his opening. Cologne sighed, offered up a quick prayer to the ancestors, and began to walk toward Kunzite.
The white-haired general looked down at her impassively as she approached. "Finished planning?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Cologne's only response was to raise her cane into a ready position, facing him head-on. Kunzite shrugged. "Very well then. I am looking forward to seeing how you intend to fight me now." Then he raised his hand, charging up another immensely powerful magic attack, and hurled it down at her.
There! The ancient master thrust out her cane at the only possible instant, calling on all her power for this one desperate chance. A beam of ki shot forth from the tip of her weapon and struck Kunzite's attack as Cologne screamed a Joketsuzoku battle cry. The full power of her life force clashed with the might of the general's sorcery, and her strength was enough to destabilize his attack. It detonated prematurely... while it was still only halfway out of Kunzite's shield.
The resulting explosion hurled the general back through the air, propelled by the force of his own overwhelming power. He tumbled in a long, elliptical arc, eventually crashing back to earth a long way off.
"Happi, now!" Cologne shouted, even as she sagged to one knee from the effort of what she had done. But Happousai was already picking up the attack. He leaped high into the air, soaring above the Dark General to obtain the perfect vantage point to strike at his opponent's prone form.
"Take this!" the withered pervert shouted gleefully. "Anything Goes Ultimate Attack! Happodaikarin Shower!"
Happousai's arms blurred into invisibility, flinging out lit explosives as fast as he possibly could. He tossed them left and right, scores upon scores of them, sending them down from above like countless raindrops of impending doom. Cologne held her breath, watching as the ridiculous barrage of bombs plummeted toward the fallen general.
Then Kunzite's head snapped up, his eyes blazing with fury. He made two nearly simultaneous gestures—first with one hand, followed immediately by the other. The first gesture created a small black dome of energy around himself, sealing him off from the bombs and their burning fuses. The second gesture created a much larger dome around the first one, enclosing not only Kunzite, but Happousai as well.
And then he thrust his hands out, causing the inner dome to expand, while the outer dome contracted.
Cologne caught a glimpse of Happousai's startled face, as he was caught in between the two force shields. Cut off from both Kunzite and outside help, he was trapped in that thin shell, alone.
Alone... except for well over a hundred lit Happodaikarins.
The first fuse reached its end an instant later, and that explosion triggered the rest of them in a blinding chain reaction. The explosion raged through the shell between the two domes, super-compressed to an unbelievable degree. The barriers vibrated crazily, even starting to smoke a bit. But they held, focusing the entire destructive force of Happousai's onslaught into the narrow space between them.
Flame from the blasts obscured Cologne's view of what was inside the barriers for a moment, but when it passed Kunzite was back on his feet. His uniform was now ripped in several places, and a trickle of blood from a cut on his forehead was running down his face.
Then he dispelled the two black domes, and Cologne saw something tumble to the ground—a small, burnt thing that was barely recognizable as Happousai. A deafening roar went up from the watching youma, on seeing the first true defeat in the battle.
Kunzite, for his part, walked over to where Happi lay and gave the body a small nudge with the toe of his boot. The ancient pervert responded with a few small, spasmodic twitches, and a small wheeze. Nodding in a satisfied manner, the general then turned to face Cologne.
"Well done," he told her. "That was an inventive tactic. Making use of my own attack as a way to bypass my defenses. You almost had me."
The he took to the air once more, re-forming his swirling personal shield. "However..." he went on. "It's not an opening I'll give you twice."
Cologne pushed herself back to her feet, leaning on her cane as she watched the general approach. As he drew nearer, a chant began to rise up from the surrounding army. It started slow at first, but was soon picked up by thousands upon thousands of youma throats, steady, rhythmic.
Its volume and intensity kept building, and soon the youma began stomping on the rooftops and punching the ground in time with it. It was a death chant, marking off time until the final blow.
Cologne took a deep, shuddering breath, then stood fully erect, holding up her cane in a guard position, waiting as the Dark General closed in, and the youma chanting grew louder and louder.