At first, the battle was purely physical. Both opponents sought the
other's weakness, maneuvering back and forth. The Angel was the first to
hurl a magical attack, demonstrating her weakness, and Metallia crowed with
triumph as she began unleashing her awesome powers, demonstrating her
strength with melodramatic sparks.
And yet, Metallia was the first to succumb to the temptation of using psychological magic, and even as the Angel felt doubts plague her mind, she knew, in her heart, that she had triumphed a little, however small the victory was. The actual battle was intense and rapid, with both having no time to recover from their wounds before shooting another attack. Occasionally, you could glimpse a power streak tinged either silver or black. More often, you heard cries and grunts of pain that were muffled and cut off.
There was the continuous muttering of the Ancient Language, summoning up magic to their wills, spoken as rapidly as possible without fumbling the words and obliterating themselves. The constant mumble of the Language was an undertone, the background music to the clash of metal against metal, and the jarring thuds as one or the other crashed into the wall, only to pick herself up within nanoseconds to fire a quick attack.
And through it all, the senshi and generals cowered, and Mamoru worried, and Beryl watched with fear. And Beryl regretted. And the possessed generals fought with their hypnotic state of mind. And the non-possessed generals clasped their love's hands. And the senshi prayed for their friend. And Mamoru felt his heart ache.
But Beryl was a shrewd one. She knew that either Metallia would win, or Metallia would not win. Either way, she had a contingency plan. And as the Angel and Metallia fought, and the attention of everyone was captured, Beryl captured Malachite and Zoisite. It was a quick attack, and the senshi did not notice, so captured with worry for their friend were they.
And Beryl froze these two generals with her jade green staff. And she laid herself down to rest, but not before placing a spell upon her. The day would come in the future when she would awake, regardless of the outcome of this battle. That day would come, and she would take over the world, with or without Metallia. She would wait. She was patient.
Meanwhile, in the upper chamber, the battle between the Angel and Metallia had come to an end. The Angel was backed into a corner, and Metallia was gleefully raising her hands for a final strike. She fired ...
And the blast struck Mamoru, sending him sprawling across the room from where he had leapt to shield the Angel. The Angel stared in shock at Mamoru's lifeless body. There was no doubt about it. He was dead. Dead because of her. Dead to protect her. Mamoru's hand lifted one last time, and his lips opened. "Bye, Usako," the timid last words drifted over to Usagi, who was still staring in disbelief at his prone body.
A keening wail emerged from between her lips, rising to a rapid crescendo, drowning out all other sounds. In it, she mourned the death of one she cared for dearly, one who had sacrificed his life for her, one who she had come to love. Her wail grew desperate with grief, increasing in sound, trembling, quivering, before growing strong. It was the wail of one who had lost something she cared for deeply.
The wail stopped abruptly, ending on a particularly high note. "You," her voice was calm, even cold, but harsh. "You did this."
She turned to face Metallia, who had been unnerved by the continual wailing. "Yes, girlie. What are you going to do about it?"
The Angel did not deign to reply. Instead, she withdrew the Silver Crystal, the only remaining fragment of the Moon Orb. She held it in front of her.
"You wouldn't dare," Metallia said in a low voice. "You are half-mortal. You would die. As would your friends."
"I don't care." The Angel's tone was haunted. She seemed to become gentle Usagi again. A lost, child's voice defiantly screaming her rebellion. She raised the Silver Crystal.
Within moments, magic permeated the place. The blast of silver erupted, and by the time the light died down, nothing was left.
Except the Angel, in blazing glory. But she was no longer mortal or immortal. She was a spirit, sustaining the light.
And slowly, glided forward a Silver Lady, for the Angel found she could now see the forms of the Elements, as she was dead. And she knew the regal, elegant lady she faced was her awe-inspiring grandmother. And she bowed her head humbly.
"I grant you rebirth, my granddaughter." The Lady's voice was low, gentle, and not at all the loud depth that had erupted from the other Elements earlier. "Rebirth unto a happier life with your friends. Where you will be blissfully ignorant. Does that suit you, my daughter?"
"Yes, it does," the Angel said. "I ask only one thing...grandmother. I ask that I be allowed to serve Earth, and to save it from evil, even in my reincarnation."
"And I grant your wish," the Lady said gravely. "So be it."
And a whirlwind of silver light blazed about them, with the Angel standing serenely amidst it.
And she was reborn.
And they were reborn.
And all was well.
The End
And yet, Metallia was the first to succumb to the temptation of using psychological magic, and even as the Angel felt doubts plague her mind, she knew, in her heart, that she had triumphed a little, however small the victory was. The actual battle was intense and rapid, with both having no time to recover from their wounds before shooting another attack. Occasionally, you could glimpse a power streak tinged either silver or black. More often, you heard cries and grunts of pain that were muffled and cut off.
There was the continuous muttering of the Ancient Language, summoning up magic to their wills, spoken as rapidly as possible without fumbling the words and obliterating themselves. The constant mumble of the Language was an undertone, the background music to the clash of metal against metal, and the jarring thuds as one or the other crashed into the wall, only to pick herself up within nanoseconds to fire a quick attack.
And through it all, the senshi and generals cowered, and Mamoru worried, and Beryl watched with fear. And Beryl regretted. And the possessed generals fought with their hypnotic state of mind. And the non-possessed generals clasped their love's hands. And the senshi prayed for their friend. And Mamoru felt his heart ache.
But Beryl was a shrewd one. She knew that either Metallia would win, or Metallia would not win. Either way, she had a contingency plan. And as the Angel and Metallia fought, and the attention of everyone was captured, Beryl captured Malachite and Zoisite. It was a quick attack, and the senshi did not notice, so captured with worry for their friend were they.
And Beryl froze these two generals with her jade green staff. And she laid herself down to rest, but not before placing a spell upon her. The day would come in the future when she would awake, regardless of the outcome of this battle. That day would come, and she would take over the world, with or without Metallia. She would wait. She was patient.
Meanwhile, in the upper chamber, the battle between the Angel and Metallia had come to an end. The Angel was backed into a corner, and Metallia was gleefully raising her hands for a final strike. She fired ...
And the blast struck Mamoru, sending him sprawling across the room from where he had leapt to shield the Angel. The Angel stared in shock at Mamoru's lifeless body. There was no doubt about it. He was dead. Dead because of her. Dead to protect her. Mamoru's hand lifted one last time, and his lips opened. "Bye, Usako," the timid last words drifted over to Usagi, who was still staring in disbelief at his prone body.
A keening wail emerged from between her lips, rising to a rapid crescendo, drowning out all other sounds. In it, she mourned the death of one she cared for dearly, one who had sacrificed his life for her, one who she had come to love. Her wail grew desperate with grief, increasing in sound, trembling, quivering, before growing strong. It was the wail of one who had lost something she cared for deeply.
The wail stopped abruptly, ending on a particularly high note. "You," her voice was calm, even cold, but harsh. "You did this."
She turned to face Metallia, who had been unnerved by the continual wailing. "Yes, girlie. What are you going to do about it?"
The Angel did not deign to reply. Instead, she withdrew the Silver Crystal, the only remaining fragment of the Moon Orb. She held it in front of her.
"You wouldn't dare," Metallia said in a low voice. "You are half-mortal. You would die. As would your friends."
"I don't care." The Angel's tone was haunted. She seemed to become gentle Usagi again. A lost, child's voice defiantly screaming her rebellion. She raised the Silver Crystal.
Within moments, magic permeated the place. The blast of silver erupted, and by the time the light died down, nothing was left.
Except the Angel, in blazing glory. But she was no longer mortal or immortal. She was a spirit, sustaining the light.
And slowly, glided forward a Silver Lady, for the Angel found she could now see the forms of the Elements, as she was dead. And she knew the regal, elegant lady she faced was her awe-inspiring grandmother. And she bowed her head humbly.
"I grant you rebirth, my granddaughter." The Lady's voice was low, gentle, and not at all the loud depth that had erupted from the other Elements earlier. "Rebirth unto a happier life with your friends. Where you will be blissfully ignorant. Does that suit you, my daughter?"
"Yes, it does," the Angel said. "I ask only one thing...grandmother. I ask that I be allowed to serve Earth, and to save it from evil, even in my reincarnation."
"And I grant your wish," the Lady said gravely. "So be it."
And a whirlwind of silver light blazed about them, with the Angel standing serenely amidst it.
And she was reborn.
And they were reborn.
And all was well.
The End