Till Our Lives Burn Out

Chapter 010 – The World They Wish For
(Part 1-Colloquy of the Gods)

Epigraphs:

Know ye not that we shall judge angels?
How much more things that pertain to this life?

1st Corinthians 6:3
The Bible

… He shall not go untouched
by the feeling of their weaknesses,
but shall go far and wide,
to find that long lost.
In the widening gyre,
Death shall show him mercy,
that he may Redeem the Time …

- The 'Midrash' (for want of a better term) of Ennosh the Traveler,
on "The Coming of The Seventh Judge."

A beam of violet light hit Sailor Saturn, and she found herself disarmed, de-transformed and naked. Or at least it felt like she was, for so bright was the light she was bathed in, it seemed to go right through her.

"Now then, little flower, just what do you think you're doing?" said a detached and very haughty sounding voice.

Hotaru looked toward the light and saw a very strange sight. It was hard to describe, but it was as if she was looking inside the very clock that governed all of time itself. Great wheels within greater wheels of light like molten platinum spun in all directions, some moving impossibly fast, others mind-numbingly slow, so slow that they might not be moving at all - but they were. It came closer to her, and she could feel its ancient might, like a cold pressure pinning her entire body. If this thing told her it was as old as the cosmos itself, she would have believed it without hesitation. Though it appeared to be stationary, she could tell it was expending a great deal of energy holding this position relative to the frames of reference in which it existed. But the appearance was only half the effect. This thing was not merely huge, it was the essence of hugeness. Galaxies were but cogs in a wall clock to it. Her tiny self, even the tremendously powerful Guardian-self within her seemed small and inconsequential, like a tiny dribble of water flung against a granite wall. It had a color. She would know it instantly if she ever saw it again, but she could not for the life of her classify it by any known colors. Then suddenly, its appearance changed. It was all sparkling lights and streamers, the apprehension of which felt like pinpricks in her mind. It tickled at first but as the being came closer, it began to hurt.

"No, stop!" she cried out, "It's too much …"

The being withdrew for a moment, then its form resolved into that of a figure somewhat like a statue of a man. I did not move, and showed no expression, but nonetheless that sense that it was expending a great deal of energy was still with it, and she could feel something like emotion coming from it. The emotion was a calculating coldness, worse than any physical cold she had ever felt.

"Does this appearance suit you better?"

"Yes. Who are you?" asked Hotaru.

"My name in the Heavens is Lurga. You would, I think, call me Chronos. Though that would not be accurate, it is the thing least unlike what I am."

"You can stop time?"

"I have not stopped it. I have merely altered the speed of its passing a bit."

"Why?"

"I am asking the questions. I have authority here, for this place is an extension of our handra. What are your intentions here?"

"Please," she said, her voice sounding so small, but sweetly pleading. "I want to help him."

"Help? Help who?"

"Kuryakin-sensei," Hotaru said.

"Indeed?" said the mighty spirit, deeply puzzled, as though the mere thought of this was a curiosity of great singularity. It seemed to be mulling this over, but then said, "It will not be possible. You shall not pass, and certainly not with your Thanatos wave maker. This is the path he has chosen, and this is his meeting with his destiny."

Hotaru frowned. She had a feeling it would have something to do with that. "But they are threatening my world, my … handra.

"True, it is not proper to invade another's handra. The proximity of these events to your world is troubling from our side of things too. But he has more than enough power to deal with them. And then we shall depart."

"But it will kill him, use him up."

"Indeed, it might."

"I care what happens to him."

"Why? The length of his life –and yours- is so little anyway."

"Not to us," Hotaru said, sounding a bit testy. She was getting quite worried. That this incredibly powerful being was capable of stopping the Senshi of Destruction in her tracks was impressive and frightening, though it may have had to do only with his "authority" since this place fell under its jurisdiction. That it seemed willing to speak with her seemed promising, but if it couldn't understand love, this conversation was going no where fast. She tried a different tack.

"They have already attacked and slain people from my world. I have a part in this fight."

"You are The Slayer of this handra, and The Field of Sol, are you not?"

"Only under certain conditions," she said looking down.

"Then why do you care if some of your own have been slain? Have you not slain far more of them, many times, yourself? Odd, that your keepers would allow you to form … attachments. But no matter. Our agent shall deal with them," he said in a 'run along now' voice.

"'Agent' Lurga says," came another voice. Another light began to shine through the very powerful light of the first being. It wasn't nearly as powerful but nonetheless, another statue-like form appeared. This one had a color she could name. In fact, it was that same shade of soft orange that she so admired in "loneliest star," Fomalhaut. The immediate effect of its presence was a kind of shaming, not the cold shame of guilt, but the burning shame of embarrassment and inadequacy. This one was "beautiful," so beautiful it shamed anything that didn't measure up. Hotaru could move a little now, and it was a good thing. She now felt her nakedness before these beings. She curled up, and covered her breasts with her arms, blushing furiously. Then the feeling softened, and she felt as though, somehow, she was being hugged and forgiven for not measuring up, and the feeling of shame was replaced by the effect of a tiny but very warm fire, gladly giving her its warmth as a shelter against the fierce, vast cold of the other being. There was another feeling that came from this one. The first one did not strike her as being of any particular gender. This new one did. It was a "she." It didn't work to call her "female" but she was definitely "feminine."

"Who are you?"

"I am Perelandra. You would call me Venus, I think, though that would not be quite right. You'll have to forgive this Mighty Outer, young lady. Being more ancient than I –by far- Lurga comes off as a bit haughty."

"I have some experience with that sort of thing," said Hotaru dryly and with a newfound sense of freedom, as the sound of something like laughter came from her left. Another "statue" appeared, blue as the sky that had been stripped of all haze at the passing of a thunderstorm. Immediately, her mind was seized with an ecstasy such as one could not experience even under the effect of psychotropic drugs. It was as if her mind was fuel and someone had just lit it on fire. Thoughts such as she had never known, ideas that seemed foolish at first, but upon reflection ought to be given a hearing, witty jokes and puns, all came racing into her mind like a splashing of quicksilver that quickly broke up and reformed many times in new and ever cleverer ways. Ways of expressing these ideas, as words, even as music, bubbled and effervesced in her mind – she was in the white-hot furnace of language itself.

She knew this one's name before he introduced himself. Kuryakin-sensei had mentioned this one and the things which his 'activity' governed explicitly.

"You are Viri… trilba?"

"Viritrilbia, yes. You would, I think, call me …

"Mercury, Hermes or Thoth …"

"Yes," laughed the merry Oyarsa, "But again, that would …

"Not be accurate …"

"Not exactly, no. You're a sharp-eyed and witty one."

She smiled, grateful for the praise. Hotaru was reveling in the way her thoughts were racing and the tantalizing ideas she was experiencing. This must have been what it felt like to be Isaac Newton at the first realization of gravity, or Einstein in the moment he grasped General Relativity. She was beginning to feel a little more hopeful. Before the first Oyarsa, her spirit quailed, pinned beneath its ancient gravity and power, but she could sense that these new ones were much friendlier, and possibly even willing to side with her against the other. Even then, she wondered if it would make a difference. Their presence was an utterly amazing thing to experience, and she could feel the strength coursing in them, but though ancient themselves, these were clearly younger intelligences, and no match for the far more ancient one should it come down to that. That assessment became even grimmer when the next one showed up.

At its approach, a feeling similar to the one that had seized her mind at Viritrilbia's approach struck her. She could feel her thoughts being fractured. There the similarity ended. With Viritrilbia, the fracturing was followed by a recombination. Now her thoughts were being broken up for the very purpose of not recombining. This new one must be one of the "Outers." She could not put a color to it, and though still inferior to the one called Lurga, this one had a power that overshadowed the other two with ease. But then a funny thing happened. In her mind, where before there were thoughts, there were now imaginings, which the warmth of Perelandra's presence magnified. She was falling into a torpor in which things like hope and wish and desire rose up, often in opposition to "thought." She was "seeing things." Some of the things she saw she liked, some she did not, and some she simply didn't understand. The weight of the far more ancient one did begin to press on her, but it was not unpleasant. It wasn't exactly cold, though there was a sadness to it. In fact, it made her think of Setsuna-momma. And now she could – almost- give a name to the color of this one. It was the "color of twilight." Yes, that worked very well. As this one resolved into a figure, she knew its name.

"You are called Neruval, aren't you?"

"Yes," said a most ethereal voice. "I sit farthest from the light of Arbol. Throughout the dispensations, it is my call that all who come to Oyarandra first hear. Much do I see where you are concerned. Do you know that one day you will …?"

"Neruval!" boomed the voice of Lurga, "As always, you say too much! Everything in its time."

Hotaru wondered if she was about to see an argument of sorts. She would have enjoyed that. She would have enjoyed that very much. In fact, her heart just now was being seized by "a desire to contend." A powerful, ruddy light began knifing through the white light formed by the combination of the others' light. Its power was not anything close to that of these two Outer giants, but there was a potency that came from its concentration, its focus. Still feeling the effects of Neruval's much greater presence, Hotaru now saw images of war. In fact, she was seeing "The Great War," the day the possessor of this ferocious red light first saw the enemy coming like an unstoppable wave upon his handra. She could feel the fires of the great and righteous anger that welled up within him; she could feel how he cast aside all concern for his own 'safety'; she could feel his utter determination to stop this enemy, whatever the cost, burn so hotly in her, she thought she would explode. It was a feeling she knew well, this white-hot, black-hearted desire to close and contend with enemy. All of the Outer Planet Senshi had this fire within them, in great measure. She knew who this was as well, and could sense immediately this was very much a "him."

"What is wrong?" this one barked impatiently. "Things are going well. He's got a perfect angle of attack. Why have we stopped?"

"This little flower has come to petition for his life, Malacandra," Lurga said. "She wishes to help him. She wishes to cheat you of your final victory."

"Does she?" he said, and suddenly the red figure dissolved back into the burning "wheels within wheels" and closed with her, studying her. "Indeed, she could do it. She has a bit of your look about her, Lurga. Ah, and that Thanatos wave maker would be hers? Very good. So you wish to cheat me of my final victory?"

"No," Hotaru said defiantly. "But I do wish to save his life. I know how his use of your powers uses his body up."

"Yes," said Perelandra. "It is true. Our slightest touch can unmake him. You cannot know how hard we must concentrate to adumbrate our power to a point that he can use it without immediate death."

Hotaru counted five Oyarses here; Kuryakin had spoken of six. For now, it did not seem that the other one was interested in showing up. Hotaru was not sure whether that was bad or good. The sixth must the one called Glund, and since rank seemed to be determined by the size of the planet they had "spun from the dust of Arbol," he –if "he" was even the right word – must be the most powerful of them all.

The argument began in earnest.

"Little Flower, you must understand," said Lurga. "He is working out his penance, if you will. You know of the crime which he committed?"

"Yes," she said sadly. "Terrible though it was, it sounds to me like a mistake of youth and of a man deeply wounded by the lost of his wife, in a world where no one dies young."

"Nonetheless, his crime was real, and great."

"So was his sorrow over it, Lurga," said Perelandra.

Hotaru began watching very closely and listening very carefully, trying to figure out who on her side and to what degree.

"That war was going to break out anyway," said Viritrilbia. "The cry of the oppressed had been heard. They would have wiped themselves from existence. The poor were many and determined, but too poor, and the great were few, but too powerful and spiteful. They would have scorched their handra, if he had not seen a way to prevent it. He cured the remnant of that world and led many who would have gladly seen him slain to safety. His former compatriots nearly slew him for that. In the end, his being there was as much a mercy as it was a crime."

"The intent of the heart was all that mattered," Lurga countered. "It showed that he was willing to violate the prohibitions. That is what condemned him. He accepted his judgement. We gave him a way through it. He should be grateful that his life was not a waste."

"He is grateful," said Viritrilbia.

"Though the burden he now carries is heavy," said Perelandra.

Little one," said Malacandra directly to Hotaru, "he completes our victory, and he wins, too. He has struggled all this time to see justice done for his beloved."

"Indeed," said Lurga, "it was only the memory of his wife, the chance to see justice done for her, that made him repentant …"

"Yes," said Perelandra, "it was her love that awakened him. But he is indeed 'this way' now … He has learned. He is changed, repentant, redeemed."

"That's only half the truth," said Hotaru, her voice sounding so tiny and tinny compared to theirs. "I think, … I am the reason he came here."

"Indeed?" said Neruval. "Marvelous if true, for it proves what I have been saying about him."

"It is true. I have also helped make him this way. He has taught me, I have taught him. I love him …," she said as tears began forming in her eyes. "He has changed me, and shown me the hope I have sought all my life …"

"But that fire of his first love is clearly gone," said Lurga, seemingly ignoring Hotaru. "He is in love with another now …"

"Yes, I have noticed," said Perelandra. "He had gone as far as that memory could take him. He came here, not knowing the thing he may have been seeking was here. But his strength was waning, and he needed a new vision to keep going. He is in love again. I wondered how long he could subsist on the memory of that lost love. He lasted far longer than I expected."

"That is another problem," said Lurga. "The one he is in love with now is not of his world. Were we to let this little flower save him- and we would be foolish to do so unless she guarantees the destruction of all the enemy present in this tunnel …"

"… and she will have to risk the destruction of her handra in doing so …" added Viritrilbia.

"… if you succeed in saving him," Lurga continued, seemingly annoyed, and speaking directly to Hotaru now, "he will no doubt continue to pursue her. For he is a very determined person when in love. He has no right to any such thing, and certainly not with an outsider, but he has gone ahead anyway."

Hotaru was quickly riled at this subtle suggestion that somehow Setsuna was 'unworthy.' "My Setsuna-momma is a great and good woman. I think he chose well when he fell in love with her."

"So do I," said Neruval.

"And I" said Perelandra.

'Aha,' thought Hotaru. 'Now I now who's on my side.'

"She is not of our world," Lurga reiterated. "He has no business …"

"And you wonder why it is said time knows nothing of mercy," said Perelandra. "Why can he not find love again? And wherever he can? He has been so alone. Besides, look at this little one here. If she loves him, it is surely because he has shown her his heart, his kindness. Neruval may be right. Look who she is, here."

"Yes," said Neruval, and then The Oyarsa of Mysteries began quoting something: "In the widening gyre, spun up by strife, Death will show him mercy and give him life … behold, she, the destroyer of the invalid old, and has come to do just that. It is as I have seen. He is the Seventh Judge."

"What is that?" asked Hotaru.

"In each generation that comes to Oyarandra, some fall away, though that world is now a paradise," explained Viritrilbia.

"It is no surprise," said Neruval, "for often do the hnau – the rational animals of the worlds, falter within the very sight of Heaven. For many who think they know what they want, do not, and cannot bear the truth when they reach it."

"Ah yes, he told us of that," said Hotaru.

"They would see Heaven brought down to Hell because they cannot have it on their own terms," continued Viritrilbia, "but Maleldil will not suffer the peace of that world to be violated ever again."

"Nor the Peace of Andromeda, for very long," added Malacandra parenthetically.

"To fight them," The Oyarsa of Thought concluded, "Maleldil raises up out of each generation, an 'arkhon,' roughly, a judge. It is necessary because each generation becomes more powerful than the last. Those who fall away from the third generation, for example, have more power to destroy than the judge of the second generation can handle. Thus, each generation must have its own judge. The seventh generation is the one that comes into the full perfection of Oyarandra. Thus, with every race that has come, there have always been seven such judges. Often times, it is not clear until after much time has passed, who those judges were. Some of the judges were slain in the end. Neruval insists that Kuryakin is that last, seventh judge."

"Yes," said Neruval. "I do insist upon it. Even his name – Kuryakin- sounds like Kure Arkon, or the Seventh Judge, in the common tongue."

"Nomen est omen," said Hotaru.

"Indeed," said Viritrilbia, and Hotaru was sure it was said with a smile, though still none of the statue-like figures moved in any way.

"But no matter," said Neruval. "These things must happen as they do. I cannot tell yet, what will happen there, for we must decide this first."

"Indeed," said Lurga. "The Seventh Judge is to be practically immortal. Or at least he certainly will live out the normal lifespan of an Oyarandran. If he is the Kure Arkhon, then even we shall not be able to use him up. This is the perfect test."

"As always, you willfully misunderstand that," said Neruval, and suddenly Hotaru understood. This was a sort of game, bonhomie between mighty spirits. Only their vast power made it seem like more than that.

"It only appears thus when seen from the other side," Neruval continued. "In this now, choice is everything. It may be that he will survive this precisely because she has chosen to help him."

"Do not mind, Lurga," Perelandra said, addressing Hotaru directly. "He is very annoyed that another sees better than him."

"Annoyance is of the hnau. I do not get annoyed."

"Ah, but we – of all the eldila – we, who have never known more or lesser light, do know of these things," said Perelandra. "For they are things all the eldila desire to look into. But we have been favored above all others. Because of him, through him, we can see them. We have been touched by the feelings of the hnau …"

Hotaru now had a much better understanding of the relationship between Kuryakin and his Guardians. But she could sense that there was one thing she hadn't grasped yet.

"You … like him. Don't you?"

"Like? Yes, I suppose you could put it that way," said Viritrilbia. "Most of us, that is."

Hotaru was now very hopeful that she would be allowed to fight with Kuryakin. Still, not all of them put together could match up with the power of The Cold One. It looked as if Lurga's would be the final say. But then came a moment too wonderful for worlds.

"I suppose you shall insist that we bring this up with Glund," said Lurga, who was beginning to see how this was going to go.

"I was just thinking that," said Neruval.

"I know," said Lurga.

At the mere mention of the name of the last and greatest Oyarsa, Hotaru's heart leapt for joy. There was no obvious reason for it to, but the mere name seemed to contain within it all joy. Hotaru now understood what Kuryakin had meant when he said that these beings, these Planetary Archangels, were the "organs" of their solar system. There came among them a presence, against which even the cold pressure of Lurga was no match. Before these others, her spirit at times quailed, at others was driven to frenzies of thought and great vision and desires too powerful for words- even the best words of the vast chorus of languages she could hear buzzing in her head. Now, before this one, she thought she might die, but if she didn't, she would sing the song of her own life and individuality with all her being, as her heart filled with joy unspeakable.

"He has no doubt been talking to Maleldil of this," said Lurga.

"Indeed," said the rich, rich voice of the mighty Glund-Oyarsa, through whom the winds of joy blew across the stars.

"Maleldil always listens to these upstarts," Lurga said, with deference, but seemingly with disappointment too. "We had this cosmos running quite smoothly, but then Maleldil started creating corporeal life and taking strange councils to keep it going. It comes up like flower, and then withers and is cut down. What is the point?"

"It is not even noticed by the vast bulk of the cosmos," said Perelandra. "Why do you so bother with it, if the point is truly lost on you, ancient one? Do you not see the occasions for love, for hope, ..."

"For progress and the willing apprehension of Truth," said Viritrilbia.

"For courage," said Malacandra, "which is every good thing at the point of testing …"

"Of course Lurga sees it," said Neruval, "but is loathe to admit it."

"I loathe nothing," said Lurga.

"Invincibility really is overrated," Hotaru said smiling.

"Indeed, it is" said Viritrilbia. "Because we are far less powerful than these Mighty Outers, we saw this sooner and better."

"There is something I don't under …" said Hotaru, puzzled. This was all so odd. She had the measure of these great spirits, these world spinners. She recognized that they were vast, ancient beings, filled with the wisdom beyond wisdom, who surely knew everything, or knew how to find out if it was important enough. But somehow, the making of 'rational animals,' threw even their insight into a tailspin. And then, she understood.

"She knows now," said Viritrilbia, and surely, he was smiling again. "As Perelandra said, our slightest touch can unmake him, and yet, we, all of us are at his command. It is very specific and constrained, and he scarcely knows of it. One day, it will not be so. For now though, and for the purpose of finishing the Will of Maleldil, he has some authority over us. Indeed, all his kind - even perhaps, one day, you - have that authority. And we are glad of it. In the light of our light is sealed the Eternal Gloria, which we sing, year unto year, without ceasing; but now we know the greatest song of all: the song of the redeemed."

With this moment of full enlightenment on Hotaru's part, these Oyéresu could also see something they hadn't before.

"Indeed," said Neruval, "for I see now who you truly are, Little Flower. Do you not see it, fellow Oyéresu?"

"Yes, yes, I do," said Perelandra, Malacandra and Viritrilbia together.

"So then, what say you, Glund-Oyarsa?" they all asked as one, very deferentially.

"Look at the joy with which she glows when she thinks of him," said this mightiest of the Oyéresu. "She is starting to understand that she is, in a way, of him. She has willed to save him from it. She has the power to do it."

"If I may give council, Glund-Oyarsa: perhaps, perhaps not," said Viritrilbia. "It is not a matter merely of power, but of choice. He loves her too, and these things never go quite as they wish or think. For rarely do they know what they truly wish, think or ask."

"Neruval, what see you?" asked Glund.

Neruval said nothing of what was seen, but merely, "She should be allowed to try, though it may not come right until the end of all things."

"Malacandra," said Glund, "this was your fight from the beginning. Will you withhold?"

"I am the Oyarsa of Battle, but I am not a warmonger. I will let her unleash her weapon if she still wishes. But she must swear to get them all, whatever the risks to her handra, and I must see her true to her promise before leaving."

"It is in my light that The Will of Maleldil does not withhold this," said the great Glund-Oyarsa. "As our leader was allowed to come here, we shall reciprocate the kindness shown. She shall be allowed." Then Hotaru could feel "the eyes" of this being directly upon her. It was a feeling wonderful beyond words. It was as if every terrible thing that ever happened to her suddenly became a joy of equal, even greater, measure. Tears flowed from her eyes. She could not literally see it, but she knew this leader of the Oyéresu was smiling at her.

"If you succeed, henceforth you have a share in all his works."

"So be it," the others murmured in unison, as they began to fade from her view.

"Go," said the voice of Perelandra. "The Grace of the Oyéresu be with you. Fight beside him. Fight for him. Save him if you can. We shall watch, and see what wonders await."

'What!' thought Sailor Saturn. 'Did … something just happen!'

She had torn a hole through the event horizon of the twisting column that extended all the way to another Galaxy, and then it seemed for the merest second that … but no matter. She could see the enemies being spun around in the twisting wind, if such it could be called. The weaker-looking of them were pressed to the outside by the centrifugal force of it, periodically attempting to punch their way through the walls. Those in the center seemed bigger and more powerful, an observation confirmed by the way they could hold to the center waiting for the lesser ones to break through. There was a great buzzing among them. They knew he was here. They could see those among them who had already been felled. They were looking in all directions trying to find him. Then Sailor Saturn saw him. He had begun at the highest point in the vortex where enemy could be found so that he could face them in detail, and not have to take on more than two or three at a time. It worked well, because he was able to anchor himself to a frame of reference outside the vortex, and hold or change his position as he chose. Eventually, though, he would not be able to pick them off a few at a time, but would have to confront them en mass.

'Got here just in time,' thought Sailor Saturn.

In the center of the vortex, there was second column that spun upward and opposite the outer wall. Saturn carefully gauged it, and then flung herself into it. She rose quickly through the ranks of Ravagers, and some of them saw her, and took weak and errant swipes at her. She parried the few that were accurate with the Glaive, and Kuryakin caught the light glinting off it.

"Hotaru … ach, Satahrn, … no …" he barked, as he saw a pale young lady with sable hair and violet eyes dressed in white and purple speeding toward him. He parried the attack of a huge ravager and then ran him through as he spun his back to it. She deflected yet another attack, and then reached out to him. He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward him, for like the ravagers, she would not be able to hold her position very well amidst all this spinning. But he could and he lifted her to a place where the enemy could not reach them.

"You should not have done this," he said with a resigned smile.

"You have unfinished business back there," she said, as she noticed he looked ten years older.

"I'm surprised they let you through," Kuryakin said. "This might all be for naught. Your 'wave' might kill me too, you know."

"You can 'wink out' like you did when the cavern exploded."

"Yes, I did, but even that wasn't enough."

"I won't let it kill you," she said, uncertain that she could do it, but determined to try.

"It might destroy the earth," he said.

"Let justice be done …" she began.

"… though it brings down the heavens," they finished it together.

"What do you have to do?"

"Put me in the very middle of them and I will do the rest. I only need a sure footing for a few seconds."

Kuryakin began to fade out, and then a sphere of white light surrounded Sailor Saturn, and she began falling, back through the center of the vortex. Down, down, down, she went, speeding past the enemy, clustered here and there like bunches of black grapes on a twisted vine, who again swiped spitefully but ineffectually at her. Down, until they were in very middle of them, of the roaring gyre, of everything- it seemed. The white sphere of light was deflecting every attempt of the enemy to jab at her. She was having the hardest time standing up, but finally she found a stable, firm place. She held her world-shattering weapon before her, her eyes slowly closing, then opening. She could see the leering, ravening faces of the enemy, shrieking, growling, longing with implacable hatred to seize and crush and devour her. Her eyes filled with The Cold Look. They saw, not a hatred, but a will to oppose them so equally implacable as their own dark fire that it could well be called hatred.

Fear came in to their eyes. They understood what she was, and what she could do.

"Ravagers of Andromeda!" Sailor Saturn screamed, "The Glaive cries out, 'Avenge the blood of the innocent!' Yours is forfeit! Now come, … and burn out for me!"