This will be the first chapter I'd deem to have controversial changes to the canon. As I said in the prologue, disrespectful changes were sure to come, and the major one will be apparent in the very beginning of this chapter. Let me make it clear that this hasn't come without much deliberation. Feel free to express discontent, but if you want my reasoning behind it, you can check the Tumblr I've left on my profile, as I made a post relating to that.

WARNING: Blood, violence, death.

The Purge and The Sacrifice

"SCARLET NEEDLE!" A shout echoed through the night. From a sharp, red nail, a ray was emitted to slice the air towards a Silver Saint; the brown-haired woman that fell back was dressed in the Crane Cloth, with its pale metal constructed after the feathers of a bird. Although she flew aside in her attempt to dodge it, it pierced through the armor's bust regardless, cracking past it to invade the flesh, and then exiting from the back with a splash of blood.

When she fell back, seemingly lifeless, it was obvious under the moonlight that she had been struck dozens of times on the torso prior to that, perhaps by the same or a similar attack. "MASTER HARIS!" a girl's voice called from behind.

She was not alone bloodied on the rocks; the one visible in that minuscule island of Paximadia was a true scenario of death. A couple of young amazons had been similarly defiled, their bodies disposed carelessly about the place, a sight that awakened the fury of one among them.

With a pixie-cut, light brown hair, this fair-skinned girl was also a Saint, although one of a lesser rank, and she wore a Cloth of muted copper shades. The circlet atop the head had a circular center adorned with a pink gemstone cut like a crescent, whereas each side protruded into flat and rounded shapes to encircle the form of the skull. The shoulder pads and breastplate were slim and streamlined, with simplistic plates intertwined, their ends forged to be rounded. With how the line of the boots and greaves met, it seemed as if her legs were longer than they were in truth, and the leotard she wore underneath was well hidden as a result. Her mask was stained using dark paint, with three small pointed markings for each large, blank eye.

"You murderer!" she yelled at the attacker, and as she rose Cosmos in preparation to commit the same mistake of her colleagues, another amazon was prudent in tackling the girl by the shoulder.

"No, Ethel! Don't do it!" she said. "You will end up dead too!"

They watched as the assassin walked over to Haris' limp body, crouching to confirm the kill. It was difficult to make out details in the dark, but the gold shine and the great Cosmos hinted a rank of Gold. "Why would you attack us?" Ethel asked. "Paximadia is under Sanctuary's command!"

"Crane Haris was to be my only victim," said the killer, and it was clearly the deep voice of a woman. They knew soon that she also wore a mask, and there were only rumors of Pisces being a woman, whereas Scorpio was a well-known amazon among them, so her identity became clear as the latter. She stood up after ascertaining the target's death. "The rest got in the way, so I was left with no choice."

"You're Scorpio… you betray us!" Ethel shouted in greater fury. "These girls fought back because there is no reason for this, no reason at all! Did you expect them to watch our sisters die in silence?" As her voice failed from emotion, other amazons fell in tears by the bodies, seeking signs of life where there would be none.

Scorpio kept her monotone despite the painful sight, saying: "Haris had to be put down for her connection with one of the Kido traitors…" she looked back to the shore "… Chameleon June. Such are the Pope's orders." Ethel became quiet upon hearing those names, and so, meeting no further resistance, the Gold Saint concentrated energy and sent her own self into the distance, somehow making the space between that island and Crete in one jump.

While another trainee ran for Haris' body, Ethel's legs faltered and she crumbled to her knees in desolation. "Master Haris!" the girl called, sobbing such that tears flooded below the mask. "She's dead! She killed her! Why would Sanctuary do this to us? What did we do to deserve this?" Also in mourning, another girl comforted her, but Ethel had nothing besides a faraway gaze.

Early morning eventually came, now not near Crete but close to a beach south of Turkey. Ethel, still in her Cloth, was on a boat paddled by another amazon. She looked at the approaching land in prevision to go off. "I still don't get why she would be called a traitor," the other girl commented.

"Yeah, I expected Filia to turn into one, not June," Ethel said and nodded negatively thereafter. "And does it even matter? Nothing can make up for what they did to us!" It was not only in her that a leftover revolt remained, but she knew that it would be futile to fight against the whole of Sanctuary as they were, let alone facing foes as grand as Scorpio. She stared at the Turkish shore, and noticing the proximity, the girl stopped paddling to allow the boat to settle onto sand by itself. "Finding June will be the easy part, but finding out what to do next, I'm not sure."

"Get an explanation from her and bring her over, then we might get some ideas. Even if she turned against Sanctuary, I know she's still our friend, and she's going to want to see their graves," said the other amazon.

Ethel breathed in deeply and sighed, imagining how she would take the news. "Right, I'll do that."

Although she had no idea of where to go exactly, at least the clues she learned throughout her years with June gave enough information to investigate the location. The issue was, at the same time that Ethel traveled to Japan, Camus still followed a similar route not too far ahead, and so as soon as she had arrived, so did the one prompted to return by the Gold Saint's arrival.

Shiryu had been in the city for no longer than half a day, standing in a parking lot close to the shut-down Colosseum. The Cloth box had been loaded on the bed of a black utility truck, and once the bespectacled Graad employee came back from a coffee break, the two entered and drove off towards Athena's position.

The metropolitan area required a long drive to cross past its premises, so Shiryu soon fell bored. His curiosity was piqued by a characteristic pressure in the head, one that seemed to point outside. With the wind blowing on his long hair, he leaned on the door and studied the skyscrapers and apartment buildings on that side of the street, searching for something.

The driver took note of this and wondered if something was wrong. "Is there a problem?" he asked.

With a nervous smile, Shiryu looked back and eased any worries. "Oh, no, no. I was enjoying the cityscape," he said.

"It's a nice city despite it all," said the employee with a smile of his own. "With what I earn, I was able to move in my wife, kids... even my parents."

"Is that so? That sounds wonderful!" The man continued with small talk, telling the joys of recent life, but Shiryu couldn't help but notice that the pressure would repeat in irregular intervals, so he suspiciously watched the tops. Even kilometers away, deep into the mountain ranges and woods, he knew someone was after him.

Near their moment of arrival, the other Saints had a debate over the nature of the Seventh Sense. They sat on the couch and chairs, Athena and Tatsumi being among them, as this was an activity the goddess and Shun came up with to document their progress as a group, a method to discover the secret more quickly.

It was indeed Shun who spoke at that moment, saying between gestures: "It was this strange feeling, like I was hallucinating. For a moment I daydreamed; I could look at myself from the outside, and then something finally clicked. Lady Athena said a thing in the lines of the Seventh Sense not being a way to manipulate the Cosmos, but a way to manipulate consciousness, and I found out this meant the Seventh Sense doesn't change how we deal with the Cosmos — that stays the same. It actually changes the way the mind engages with the Cosmos altogether, so that it can control it and amplify it more efficiently. It's a shift in perspective."

June looked away from him to Seiya beside her, drowned in those complicated words. "I have no idea what he just said," she innocuously said.

In response, Seiya grabbed his hair and curled up in the couch. "Ah, I'm never going to learn this!" he complained. "It's impossible!"

"He just used a few long words and you already have a migraine," Shaina said. "What he meant is that the Seventh Sense allows more effective use of the Cosmos, but what you learned before is still the same. You will manipulate the Cosmos the same way as I taught you."

"Uhm, but then… why would we learn the Seventh Sense? Is it breaking a limit in our mind?"

"That's a word for it."

June insisted on Seiya's question to clarify: "Because it's hard to make yourself hit that, like, state of mind, then it's separate from the Sixth Sense…?"

"I suppose so."

"I feel as if the Sixth Sense is more intuitive," Hyoga spoke next. "It is how we all think since we understand ourselves as people, so there is no secret to it. As Athena said, we all have the Sixth Sense, so for people at that stage, it is only learning to use the Cosmos that is a mystery."

"Oh, yeah," Seiya said, apparently enlightened, "so when we get the Cosmos figured out, the method to get stronger is thinking in a different way, which is the Seventh Sense!"

"In a way, yeah," Shun said with a nod and looked at Athena. "Is that close to it still?"

Athena tilted her head and smiled with a wince. "Hm… not really, no," she answered. All of the Saints in the room fell in disappointment, groaning at the troubles of comprehending a concept that elusive.

"This is so complicated!"

The goddess covered a giggle with the fingers and sought to lull them: "I did not mean it like so! Seiya idealized it as 'thinking in a different way', but the way we understand the Seventh Sense is not at all an attempt at thinking, is it? It is in principle observing your own mind from outside. With that the Seventh Sense is sure to come, so I believe Shun is closest to it."

"He always learns fast, it's not fair!" Seiya complained.

"Just be happy for him, Seiya," said June. The chatter continued in the living room for a few minutes before they were interrupted by the noise of a vehicle driving in the front of the house. The girl stood up and looked through the front window from afar. "Look, I think it's Shiryu!"

"Already? No way he learned this before us."

"Maybe Libra knows a special method."

Athena was the first one to come out and see Shiryu unloading the truck bed. After her, the others pushed their way out the door. "Hey, Shiryu!" June exclaimed.

Seiya stormed off the porch to speak to him: "Man, did you learn this Seventh Sense thing?"

"I was almost there, in all honesty," he responded after finishing putting the Cloth box around a shoulder.

"No way, you too?"

They gave their goodbyes to the driver and continued the conversations inside, and while the man cleaned his glasses with the shirt, an unexpected silence seized the entire area. He casually entered the vehicle and drove out, and for a while there was nothing but that haunting atmosphere in the forest's misty afternoon.

Minutes passed and that eerie quietude had no longer been broken since it settled, and from the veil of fog going up the mountain, a shadow came. After coming out of the dark protection of the tree trunks, its identity was revealed as Ethel, who had found and stalked Shiryu ever since she saw him in the city.

She wore a slim white backpack over the Cloth, and once she saw the house, she believed to have found the final destination of that long search. "He's definitely in there," she whispered to herself and approached a few more steps. "I'd better check it out before finding a way in."

There was something strange; she had seen the truck come and go, first with the Cloth and then without it, and she knew that Shiryu was no longer inside, and that there was no other place for him to go in the outskirts, yet the lights inside were off, and no movement could be observed.

When Ethel was already on the porch, she knew for certain that no one was there. "Impossible!" she said. "I swear I saw him coming here. Where else could he go?" She walked back and looked around some more, wondering if they didn't hide somewhere in the woods while the house served as a decoy, however, when she looked to the front rail, Hyoga stepped on it menacingly. On the other side, she saw Seiya blocking an escape route.

She believed herself capable of jumping over the house, but was denied another path by the image of Ikki crouching over the roof. "Lost?" he asked with a grin.

"There's… nowhere to run…" she muttered, and yet another pair of shoes came over. This one was closest, from the opposite rail, and despite her falling aside in expectation of being hurt, the one there was unmistakably June. "J-June! It's you, you're here!"

June was apparently confused for a second, but she paid closer attention and recognized her friend, as it had been no longer than half a year since she last saw her. Last time, only one of them had become a Saint. "You're… Ethel?" she said.

"Yes!"

Easing everyone's concerns, June said: "Settle down, guys. She's not an enemy."

It didn't take long for them to go in and for Ethel to make her intentions clear, but above all, it was of immense difficulty for her to give the news of what had happened, as flashbacks of the attack repeatedly echoed in a mixture of guilt, anger, and pain.

"What?" June gasped in shock, sitting on the couch alongside her and Athena.

Ethel's voice was muted, as she uncontrollably sobbed upon retelling the happenings. "She killed Haris in cold blood, no one there stood a chance!" she said. "And the other girls…"

"Why the hell would a Gold Saint attack Paximadia?"

"I asked her that, and she said Haris had to be killed because of you," she explained, and this brought June to a puzzled stare. "She called you a traitor, June."

Shiryu, who stood cross-armed with the back to a wall, reinforced her testimony with his own, saying: "Lady Athena, her story is similar to what I went through with Old Master."

"What do you mean?"

"Much like in her case, a Gold Saint visited Rozan last night…" he told, and before finishing, looked at Hyoga on the other end of the living room "… and that Gold Saint was Aquarius Camus."

Hyoga frowned and slowly stood from the chair he was in. "Camus?"

"Yes. He said he and other Gold Saints were sent to assassinate a group of traitors, and that there was little we could do to stop them at this point. In this case, Camus had been sent to kill my master."

Athena understood well everything that had occurred, so she shut her eyes and got up from the seat. "Tatsumi, bring our visitor a glass of water," she ordered.

"Yes, Miss Kido," he complied and left to the corridor.

Having occupied the center of the room so that she was in view of every Saint, she laid out the urgency of their situation: "It is imperative that we cease our efforts and move out to Sanctuary in the next hour."

"But we haven't learned the Seventh Sense yet," Shaina said.

Athena nodded, as she predicted what would happen in the coming days. "Seiya, Shaina, you do remember that documents were missing from the archive."

"I remember. They were…" Their names and functions came to her mind, in particular the one with data on travel and contacts. The dourness of the situation quickly dawned on her. "Oh."

"The Pope has gotten a hold of them with the intent of purging every Saint related to us."

Seiya's eyes widened. "No… Marin!"

"Damn it! You're right, we have to go!"

There was a commotion and the Saints ran for the corridor so that they could pack up and get ready to leave, with the exception of June and Athena, who stayed behind with their visitor. At the dazzling sight and sound of all that, Ethel grabbed the glass of water offered by Tatsumi and asked for guidance. "I don't understand. What's this about? Why did they kill Haris?"

June looked at Athena, then back to her friend. "Ethel, keep an open mind to what I'm about to tell you…"

Based on Camus' words, the Saints knew that whatever they were to encounter in Sanctuary once they arrived would be final; there was nothing they could do to detain the Pope's operation, a truth that did not bode well. In fact, Marin's proximity meant that she had been the first one victimized by the attack, and the first to be aware of the escalation.

In the headquarters for the Cult of Athena, Marin, Jabu, and Nachi spoke to the High Priestess by the platform. Dressed in plain clothes, they nearly whispered with how calmly they spoke, and despite how serene it was in that great hall, one could not hear them from afar. In the priestess' hands was a piece of parchment and a pen, both of which she did not use at that moment.

"… and she has been instructed to write down the number of soldiers in each sentry tower, to help you manage your troops better," she told Marin, who nodded respectfully.

"Perfect. Please, thank her on my behalf. She has been nothing but helpful and kind since we met," the Saint said.

"We are always happy to support the Saints. Say, do you have an estimate for when this would happen?"

"We do not, but I suggest you go on with the proceedings for the Panathenaia nonetheless."

"Of course. It would be counterproductive for the Pope to be suspicious of the Cult."

The four overheard the sound of the front door sliding open, decently distant from where they stood. This did disrupt the conversation, as the strangeness of that did not escape them. At first they imagined it would be fine to await whoever entered, but Marin thought again and erred on the side of caution.

She turned to Jabu and put an index on her mask before he dared speak. She murmured another warning, lest they be found out anyway: "Do not use Cosmos."

The three separated and swiftly disguised themselves amid the busts, seeking their darkest corners as soon as hard steps were heard rather than those of soft sandals. In tandem, Aleka turned around and walked closer to the center of the platform, going back to reading the parchment and marking off a few lines as she saw them.

The loud knocks came closer and closer, and soon a gold shimmer came into view. She subtly turned around and had her interest piqued, apparently recognizing the entrant. "You of all people!" she pleasantly said, coming closer with a smile. The Gold Saint scanned around, taking long to reply, so she seemed peeved. "Here I thought you came to visit after all those years, and then you look about as if you cannot see me."

In deference, the Saint lowered his head and ultimately greeted her: "Excuse me, master." His voice was surly and sullen, a tone ranging from deadpan to an acidic hint. "I actually am after three Saints. They seemed to have entered this sacred place."

From the platform, Aleka was right above him now. "Saints are seldom allowed here, Alessio, my dear," she said, and that name apparently annoyed the man such that his sight went off to the sculptures collected in the hall.

"Master, I beg you not to use that name any longer."

"Ah, I forget," she said with a sigh and a chuckle, "to me you're still that same young man, did you know? It is hard to accept you have come this far now, Deathmask."

The sunken, darkened blue eyes of her apprentice were clear now. With black, side-brushed medium hair and a finely tan skin, the muscular man was covered in an intricate, chitin-like armor. The shoulder pads extended sideways far beyond the usual, plate over plate until it ended in sturdy spikes. That dangerous motif — spikes and edges — recurred everywhere around the Cloth, including in the shape of the crimson stones that glittered with the torchlight, and because the materials used to forge the metal were quite particular, its shade and shine were muted, reddened, and dark, perhaps the darkest of every Gold Cloth.

The lightest of white gold, however, was used to depict the hero Hercules, a serpentine horror of many heads, and a crab accompanied by a veiled woman. The mask, which was the most striking element he wore, embraced his hair with extrusions after the legs of a crustacean, apart from two rubies that adorned the band to symbolize its eyes. To anyone with an understanding of the Houses, it was obvious that the man was the crucial Saint of the Cancer constellation, and that his presence outside of the temple meant the Pope treated these assassinations with rigor.

This man studied the premises further, and at that moment Marin skipped to hide behind yet another bust; the Bronze Saints were visibly frightened by the peril they were under.

In an attempt to catch attention, Aleka talked some more: "Whatsoever this may be, I assure you it does not merit procrastinating your duty in the Temple of Cancer. Must I remind you of it?"

Deathmask looked at her once more and grinned. "I need no reminder. If not for the Pope's call, I would never have left my temple," he said.

"The Pope must understand you are more than a pawn to do his dirty work. He should ask Taurus to do it — that rube is certainly less busy."

"You're correct." He raised the brow and spied the parchment she held. "May I at least peek that which you read?" The High Priestess soothingly exposed the writings to her apprentice, and it was clear that the script was Greek. "So many names…"

"Nearly all of those girls get denied without issue, but proud families insist and pressure us with their influence."

"What for, to enlist their daughters into the Cult?"

"Aye."

"How unfortunate that you may not do as yore, when those parents were commanded to hand their young daughters to Lady Athena anyhow, with no say or negotiation. They would not dare mix petty politics with sacred matters again."

"And perhaps this would be a more pious land," Aleka said in agreement.

"When our Lady is available, I shall speak of this myself. Picture their desperate faces upon learning that those laws were reinstated!" Deathmask told her that with a scoffing snarl, but this once she responded with puzzlement.

"Oh my… why be so cruel?"

The Saint lifted an eyebrow. "They deserve far worse."

Aleka shook her head and giggled at his manners, which she tolerated with little issue. "Return now, my dear. Don't leave those souls in suffering," she said.

"Goodbye, master. I pray that we meet again," And so, as she walked back to her position, Deathmask went on to the exit. For a split second he stared aside and perhaps noticed Nachi, perhaps not; the latter kept himself well within the outline of a statue and the stand whereon it rested. Remaining absolutely quiet was a tense ordeal in that situation, and even his breath felt like a million shouts.

Whether Deathmask noticed something strange about that or not, for whichever reason he elected to exit and leave that mindless operation behind, as he concurred his duty far outweighed it in importance. Marin was only relieved once she heard the front door close, although she still walked back to the light carefully.

As soon as she passed by Jabu, he asked: "Who was that?"

"A Gold Saint," she said, "apparently the Pope's doing."

"What?"

"It means we will have to attack earlier than expected if we want a chance at succeeding."

They were thus expeditious in their preparations for the war to come, and notwithstanding the fact that their first attacks would not occur forthwith, they kept many undercover troops on standby, all on high alert. As the days went by, the other Gold Saints came back from their assaults, the last one being Camus, and this information was rapidly handed over to Marin.

So Athena and the Saints traveled towards Greece; Shun, June, and Ethel separated mid trip to check on their respective places of training. It was known to June what had taken place in Paximadia, yet Shun had no information on the state of Andromeda Island, which left him apprehensive.

Above a row of improvised graves set under the sand of the Cretan coast, June and Ethel mourned the deaths of their colleagues and master. "Did it really have to be this way?" June muttered.

A group of amazons walked along the shoreline towards them, and despite noticing them, her friend simply admired at the sight of the Paximadia in the seascape. "On the bright side, she's buried with a view of her favorite place," she said, voice cracking from sorrow.

"But she shouldn't be dead," said June. "None of them, no one! No one should be dead if not the Pope!"

The strolling girls approached, and the one ahead of the dozen stayed on the opposing end of the mounds. "So you've come to see them," she told June. "Did she explain to you, Ethel — the reason behind these deaths?"

"I did," Chameleon responded instead, "and Scorpio has no idea what she's on about."

Ethel corroborated that: "I saw enough to be sure. This all happened because Sanctuary was taken by evil, and June is with the people who are bringing justice back. She sides with Lady Athena."

"If Ethel says so, I believe her, isn't that right?" the amazon said and turned to her friends, who nodded along.

"Yeah!"

"I want justice for my sisters' deaths!"

"The girls yearn for blood, June. We'll do anything for the opportunity to punish the ones responsible for this," one of them commented.

"Come with us and there will be an opportunity for everyone, but leave Scorpio to me," June said. She harshly pulled on the whip to straighten its metal layers. "I'll make her regret ever trusting a traitor."

Far from there, past the Suez Canal and well into the Red Sea, a canoe was paddled by Shun, who was covered in the Andromeda Cloth's protection. From where he was, Andromeda Island was already in view. The hot sun around those parts reminded him of the challenge in enduring the extreme heat during dry seasons.

Eventually he crossed past isolated rocks and islets, reaching a shore of pale sands, which reddened into the mounts above whence black outcrops pointed outward. Shun grabbed a duffel bag from the boat, hanged it from his side, and scaled up the landscape. Grass and trees gave way as dirt interspersed the other terrain, soon above the initial hills.

There he passed by shrubs and boulders, some a tad too slippery for comfort, and he saw a set of Doric buildings founded on a tall mountain. He observed the path he followed, the distance to the coast, and then the rocks whereon waves crashed in the distance. In one hand that felt like a second home, if a home he ever had, and memories came to him from a moment he thought he would not have survived.

It was many months ago, prior to him becoming a Saint, that he sparred against a colleague with whom he had grown up most of his years there. In hands both held twisted-link chains out of steel, one end with small spheres of solid metal, and the other with blunt-ended grappling hooks which the local trainees were taught to use.

They both wore light armor over their linen clothes, made of decorated boiled leather, as were their shoes. Although both were young men, effeminate as they were, they seemed to have put on an assortment of cosmetics to highlight their features, such as eyelashes, eyelids, waterlines, and even the lips, all which seemed to be a common trend for males in the island.

The colleague with whom he fought was a youth of fair, golden-hued skin, his wavy brown hair of a medium-length longer at the top than the sides. He had brown eyes, then looking bolder by virtue of the liner, and was just as slim as the future Andromeda. Interestingly, despite the two of them being among the boys, those watching the fight mostly wore masks. Seeing that such training place had once been exclusive to amazons — as was Paximadia — the culture therein developed around that fact, and recruits attracted to the area were girls more often than not.

Shun's partner was on the offensive first, and used Cosmos to launch the blunt hook to catch his chain from above. This was no use, as Shun jumped over the chain by bouncing to a side. The next attack came head on, although the boy was distant enough that he could merely step back, the hook scaringly close to the chest.

He finally responded with a swing of his own, and flipped up the hook to attach the two. From that point he pulled hard, keeping the chain shorted with the remaining hand. This made it possible for him to pull on his friend's arm, pressuring him and giving both control and insight on every move before it came. In that tug-of-war, the opponent struggled to understand Shun's tactic.

"Watch out, Reda!" one of their colleagues yelled from the sides.

The tallest among them was the only Saint in the vicinity, a blue-eyed longhair in a light Cloth adorned with silver markings. He had draped his torso in a rose-tinted bundle of chains, and it was abundantly clear then that the style of fighting taught in the island frequently used chains as tools of offense and defense. "Let them fight in silence," this man said, and those around them obeyed, as he was their master.

Reda watched Shun carefully stroll in a radius about him. He grunted and tried to whip the chain up, intent on unhooking it, and at that moment the other merely loosened his grasp to undo the tension. While Reda put great effort into the move, Shun strode forth in the blink of an eye.

The boy tried to stand his ground, but his opponent was fast and shoved a palm to the chest; as he had put a foot behind his legs, he dropped on the platform fluidly, and there was nothing he could do if not pointlessly thrash the arms. Promptly admitting defeat, Reda sighed and allowed Shun to help him up. "Outsmarted again," he said.

"Just by little this time. You were very savvy with that hook," Shun sweetly replied.

Their master walked forth to congratulate them. "Good job, the two of you. That was a great display."

"Thank you, Master Albiore."

"One day I'll be able to beat him, but that day is not today," Reda said, stretched a pain out of a shoulder, and joined the other colleagues on the sides.

Before Shun followed along, Albiore tapped him on the shoulder so as to catch his attention. "Shun, can I have a word with you?" the man asked.

"Sure."

Both walked to the outskirt's of the complex, reaching that mountain's very edge. From there they had not only a good sight of the sea below, the trees, and the beaches, but also the bundle of rocks that extended beyond the shoreline. A soft breeze carried their hair along, and when Shun took a place close by, the master was prompted to speak.

"Most are here to become soldiers and amazons, some are here to become Saints. In your case, as you said it yourself, you came with a specific purpose," he said, and when the boy noticed that he looked at the islets afar, he assumed what was referred to. "I think you're ready to fulfill that purpose."

"So you mean that I'm ready for the Holy Sacrifice."

"Yes…" Albiore turned to the trainee "… I know not what you and those people plan on doing with the Andromeda Cloth, but if there is anyone fit for it, I know it's you. It's going to be dangerous, but I am willing to let you take the risk now."

Shun grinned both in nervousness and a sense of pride in himself. "I've come this far thanks to you, Master Albiore," he said.

"And your efforts too, do not let it be forgotten. So, what's it going to be, will you do it?"

"I am ready," Shun confirmed with a nod.

Not much later than that morning, the Holy Sacrifice was prepared, a test some would incorrectly deem to be medieval, although at face value it came nowhere close to the trials Seiya had to undergo in Sanctuary, or the horrors Ikki experienced in Death Queen's Island.

Those rocks and islets right off the shore were its placement, one of them used to hold the box for the Andromeda Cloth on top. The Andromeda Chain, however, was used to tie Shun to the rocks in a multitude of complex knots, the sort of braids that one did not expect to ever undo. His feet were on top of flat and low land, such that it was below the surface of water, and the sea came up to his ankles.

It seemed to those present that this depth was about to change. Albiore finished setting up the knots and returned to the beach, where the students observed in small groups. "He's in place," he told them. They had the sight of disturbed waves, and the black clouds in the offing were a menacing omen. It was poetic that Shun's challenge would come under the shroud of rain.

"I can't believe Shun's really going to do it."

"At this age too, so young…"

"If he dies, I'm keeping his necklace."

"To be honest, I don't think there will be anything left of him if it goes wrong."

Shun was now with muscles relaxed, eyes shut, and mind clear. When he felt the moment was right, he burned Cosmos in an attempt to take control of the chains that imprisoned him, yet they would not budge. The spectators stared in silence, unsure of how many days the test could go on for, let alone if he would survive it.

The boy tried once more, to no avail. "This metal can't be broken by any earthly strength. Even with the Cosmos, this is thought to be unbreakable," he whispered, thus he inspired a chestful of air, threw the head back, and braced for harder-hitting waves. "To escape this, I must tame it. I must become attuned with the Andromeda Chain."

Despite his understanding of the goal, there was no ease in achieving it. With the day's passing, other students had left until only Reda and a handful of amazons remained. Their master watched with worry, and rain fell once night came. Before they left to sleep, the group stared back hopeless as Shun's insistence came without sign of success.

The students came back the next morning, when he still tried as fiercely as before. Unfortunately for him, the rising sea and the nonstop rain meant he had to escape that place as soon as possible, and he spent a sleepless night throughout.

"Well, it has been a whole day, master," Reda commented, "so shouldn't we go free him?"

"We are not allowed," he answered.

"But the water is rising, and the rain should only worsen soon! If we don't stop him, then…"

"Shun chose this for himself, and only he can make the choice to give up."

Everyone looked in a few seconds of silence. "He doesn't look like he's giving up," Reda said.

"I know him well enough to say he won't."

It was at that moment that one of the amazons got up and made her leave, saying: "I can't keep watching, sorry."

This would be the fate of nearly all of the students by the end of that day. Over time the storm fell harder, and the water level rose to the boy's thighs. Most of the others were gone, and he breathed deeply from the continuous effort. With a scowl aimed at the Cloth above him, he cycled through Cosmos continuously as if facing it directly. Eyebags appeared sunken and darkened, and the mist of crashing waves left his face and clothes covered in droplets.

"Why? Why aren't you responding to me?" he said, wasting more energy in the search of an answer. "No matter how carefully I try, you don't respond!"

The evening fell, and at that point only Reda and their master watched in dismay, as everyone had left without believing they'd ever speak to Shun again. "He has to give up at some point. It's not worth dying for," the remaining trainee said.

"To him it is," said Albiore.

"Huh?"

The man sighed and thought hard if it would be appropriate to speak of that, and understanding that Reda had been Shun's closest friend while in the island, he chose to give him the benefit of the doubt. "Shun was sent here by a rich family, albeit not as a child their own. I am unsure of what took place, but he was given the strict goal of returning with that Cloth," he explained.

"Is that so? He always said he was raised in an orphanage, and that he wanted to become the Andromeda Saint, but never that."

"His duty is solely to come back to that family with the Cloth. It sounded suspicious to me, but Shun is a kind, bright, and tender boy, so I brushed it off as some form of tradition. However, looking at him now, I can't help but wonder…" as the Silver Saint paused, Reda turned up, noticing in the remaining light that his eyes glistened no matter his attempt at remaining stoic "… this determination, this willingness to sacrifice one's own life, to take Andromeda's place in those chains… I can't help but wonder if he is destined to be a Saint one way or the other."

They looked back at Shun's fearlessness in admiration, and both wondered if that was truly the case, if one could be fated into Sainthood, and if souls were marked to assume their roles whenever they were remade flesh.

The night was enveloped in pure darkness, and the storm became a violent thunderstorm; this way, the only light visible from the beach was the constant lightning and that intense aura around Shun. With how absurdly strong the weather had become, both feared even more for the boy's life, especially with the water raised to his stomach.

"This is too much!" Reda said, but he could barely be heard through those intense blasts of wind. "We have to convince him to give up!"

"Let him be, Reda! It is his sacrifice alone!"

"I won't let my friend die in vain, not without trying!"

Reda ran towards the risen shore, and at that moment lightning descended and struck the Andromeda Cloth. "REDA!" Albiore screamed.

"SHUN, STOP!" his friend shouted, ignoring how far apart they were. No matter the loudness of his voice, it seemed he could not be heard due to the gusts' vigor. He dipped shoes into the water and came to notice that the sea was quite deep even near the coast. "SHUN, IT'S NOT WORTH IT! YOU HAVE TO STOP!"

"Reda, get away from the water!" the master warned, having come closer.

Initially Reda did not comprehend the caution, yet when lightning fell over the rocks once again, they could see the large shadow of a shark flowing below the surface. "That was…"

"Get back!"

He tumbled back, but did not give up on convincing Shun to abandon the Holy Sacrifice. "SHUN, GIVE UP! YOU HAVE TO GIVE UP!" he screamed.

It was worthless. Shun continued to valiantly stare off that Cloth, illuminated only by his constantly shining halo. His breath was shallow and frequent, and it pained him to fill the lungs each time; the skin on the arms bled from the chain's tightness, and the legs oscillated from numbness to piercing needles.

"Why… why…? I want to see them again. June, Hyoga… I want to see him… Ikki… brother, I want to see you again. I want to come back to you. Why won't it…?" his mumbling was barely sober, but when he started yelling next, it was as if he had resurrected. "Andromeda! Andromeda, listen to my voice, feel my Cosmos!"

The shark crossed the path ahead of him, and it was clear that its size was atypical even for the area. His shadow was only visible when thunder lit the surroundings, but even with the impending doom that fish's presence meant, Shun kept determination. The rocks that held the chain trembled when the shark struck them in a famished chase.

"In the name of hope! In the name of justice! In the name of love!" Shun continued to order the Cloth, yet it gave him naught. "In my dear brother's name, Ikki! Andromeda, my heart commands you! Andromeda!" His Cosmos rose beyond its previous limit, and the necklace he wore raised as did his hair. The fish's movement was more visible under the greater brightness. "Andromeda Chain, let my Cosmos flow through you! In the name of sacrifice! IN THE NAME OF ATHENA!"

With that last mighty scream, the two watched Shun flash a blinding light, like a star half covered by seawater. The Andromeda Cloth was brought to its knees by his authority and that of Lady Athena herself, who presided over him as much as she did over the constellation, and so the box split open to fill the place with another shine.

Albiore was left speechless once the chains split through the very rocks. The dusky shark leapt to devour the boy, but the water hastily receded, and lines of zigzagging chains split his rough skin open before throwing him back into the open sea. When Shun looked down, he saw that he donned gauntlets, and the chains were now tied around his forearms as allies rather than tormentors.

"By Athena, he has done it!" Albiore said, tears finally pooling under the eyes.

"I can't believe it!" said Reda. "Shun is the Andromeda Saint!"

Shun had enough of meditating over memories of the Holy Sacrifice, so he resurfaced from the past, looked away from the rocks, and shifted his focus back to the buildings wherein he had been trained. Lost in thought, he wondered if what victimized June's master would've occurred to Albiore as well, and whether Reda and the others had fallen prey to it.

After reaching the temples, he walked upstairs and crossed through pillars sculpted after a chained Andromeda, and the place was quiet and serene. "It was always peaceful, but this is quieter than I remember," he noted.

He went deeper into the place, passing by empty halls and altars, and once he heard the sound of trainees exercising, he followed it to a square with a tall and open pavilion. On a stone platform, a group composed mostly of amazons sat and rested, whereas some others were instructed by a single Saint. This, however, was not a Silver Saint, and thus it was not Albiore, but rather Reda himself.

He wore a Cloth of a greenish hue, its general outline similar to Andromeda's, albeit with slimmer and longer forms, the large sideways shoulders protracting into three lean shapes. The bust in the breastplate, too, was feminine and salient, and in place of colorful gemstones or other metals to adorn the metal, it contained studs so polished that they mirrored everything about them. Such were located under the neck, encircling the tassets, and in the shape of a diamond on the circlet around his flowing hair. He held chains of his own, one end with a small hook, and the opposite with a small sphere, which he used to teach the students how they should use their weapons.

Shun smiled to see that another friend had become a Saint, although Albiore's absence lingered in the back of his head. When heads turned to him, Reda noticed someone special had arrived. "Shun?"

"Reda, it's you! Everyone is still here!" he said, relieved to meet them alive; however, as he came closer, Reda's expression continued grave, and that shallow happiness soured with it.

"You're late," Reda said, and Shun assumed the bad news.

"No, don't tell me that…"

One of the amazons looked away, and Reda's eyes glistened as he diverted too. "Master Albiore, he… he has been murdered."

His heart sunk with those words. The training continued after greetings were given, but eventually Reda and a few trainees took Shun to a gravesite, the one wherein their master had been buried, and the two Saints sat on a rock next to the mound, while a box storing the Silver Cloth stood nearby.

A dark-skinned amazon approached with a withered rose. The red of its dried petals had grown excessively muted, and there was a stain of black in the thorny tip below, which Andromeda noted once it rested in his hand. "Here," she said, "this is how he was killed."

"With nothing but a flower?" said Shun.

"When that rose pierced his flesh, he died in a matter of minutes," Reda explained.

"There was nothing we could do!" the amazon told. "The one who did it was a Gold Saint so powerful, even all of us at once couldn't push him back!"

"Master ordered us to no longer get involved, and once he died, that murderer simply ignored us."

Shun tightened the thorns between his palm. "This must be what Lady Athena was talking about," he mumbled.

"Athena?"

"Look, there are many things I must tell all of you, however, what you must know now is that the Gold Saint who killed Master Albiore was sent by the Pope." When Shun said that, Reda furled his brow, not knowing whether to believe it.

"How are you so sure of that?"

"He was not the only innocent Saint killed in this way. I can prove to you, and once you learn the truth, I'd like you to come and help me avenge him."

Reda went into brief thought. He looked to the amazon for approval, but she was also confused, and so he had to make a decision by himself. He knew based on Albiore's words and his own experience that Shun was a kind and sincere boy, and that he had not become the Andromeda Saint by accident, so he was inclined to trust him. Besides that, he would be given proof ere settling on the final choice, and so he saw no safer option.

Decided and determined to avenge Albiore, Reda nodded and got up. "Take us to the truth, Andromeda."