Imperfect Metamorphosis

by TakerFoxx

It's the first day of spring, and Cirno and her friends are once again up to no good! But after stealing a strange box from Marisa's house, they soon find themselves over their heads as they discover some things are meant to remain locked up.

64. Fires of the Sun, Part 1

Fires of the Sun, Part 1

Smoke.

Nothing but grey mist, twisting, billowing, and obstructing all. An impenetrable fog, through which nothing can be seen.

No shapes.

No faces.

Barely any light. Just enough to show the wispy tendrils writhing all around, and nothing else.

Because there is nothing else.

Just the smoke.

The smoke and the dark. Spinning together in a lovers' embrace, enveloping all in their dance. So must it have been at the beginning of the universe, and so shall it be at the end, when all was dust and the very stars had breathed their last. Ashes to ashes.

And then.

And then.

And then, and then, and then…

Let there be light.

There is a beep followed by mechanical whirring sound. A glowing white rectangle appear projected against the smoke, a screen projected from behind. The screen is polluted by fuzz and static, but the numbers on it are still displayed, counting down one right after the other.

5

4

3

2

And then there is a scratchy fanfare of trumpets played from the back of the throat of a rusty old gramophone. Upon the screen a black-and-white animated logo of a spinning sunflower surrounded by stars is displayed, beneath which are the words, "Sunburst Productions" in elegantly curved letters. The logo disappears, and at last the smoke parts like a curtain, and…

"Hello, dears. It's been a while."

The room is small but elegant, filled with expensive furniture and tasteful ornaments. At the center of the wall is a marble fireplace, in which a cozy flame is burning. Rows upon rows of shelves line the walls, all of them cluttered with strange instruments, glowing bottles, ominous looking books, ancient scrolls, and other sinister objects that seemed to hum with power. Around the room are tables containing similar items, including one large desk holding up a strange contraption that seems to be all glass tubes, gemstone lenses, and golden needles. Soft piano music is playing from an unseen source.

And then there are the plants.

They are literally everywhere, growing out of pots that sit crammed between the books, bottles, and instruments. The mantle over the fireplace is so thickly clustered with ivy that there is almost no room for the pointy blue hat decorated with a lace bow and a golden Sun sewn into its side that sits enshrined in its center.

And then there is the woman.

She sits in a velvet-cushioned antique chair just to the right of the fire, though with her royal bearing and the unmistakable aura of arrogance that she wore like a robe it might as well have been a throne. Her features are attractive, though too severe to be exactly be called beautiful. Her figure is slender but strong, her cheekbones high, her chin sharp, and her skin flawless. She wears her mossy green hair parted to both sides and cut in a short, professional style that hangs around her head at chin-length. She wears a tailored black pantsuit that suggests power and influence. She wears no jewelry, save for a small golden pin stuck through her tie. It is shaped like the face of a sunflower surrounded by stars, identical to the animated logo in the smoke. Held loosely between two fingers is a silver smoking pipe with a long, thin stem and a small bowl.

Her cruel eyes are of a deep royal purple and shine with a soft, fey light.

The end of the pipe is slipped between her lips, and she draws in a long, slow draft that trickles out through her nostrils. She withdraws the pipes and slowly breathes out, sending a smoky veil up around her face, the same smoke that had previously obscured the room. All through it she never blinks once, and the amethyst glow of her eyes pierces through the sheet.

As she finishes exhaling the last few tendrils, a small smirk twists her lips, and she lets out a rich, throaty chuckle. "Of course, that term is subjective. 'A while,' suggesting an extended passage of time. Certainly, from my perspective, it has been a very long while indeed. Years. Decades. Longer even. Much has happened since that last little bit of theater, with the pool and the flowers and what have you. However, from your point of view, only a few months have passed. It's all a matter of perspective, really." She waves a hand, and over her delicate fingers golden butterflies appear, fluttering prettily only to vanish into sparks. "To an insect, several generations will be born; live their short, fear-filled lives; and die within that time." A mighty bull appears in her hand, pawing restlessly at her palm with its hoof. It charges, all four of its mighty legs bounding forward before it too falls apart in glittering sparkles. "To a somewhat more highly evolved beast, that period is not especially significant in the grand scheme of things, but still carries more weight than to someone like you." Then she holds her hands in front of her chest, palms facing one another and fingers forming a cage. Between them, a single Human being appears, featureless and genderless but not without a certain regal bearing. It starts walking in place, legs moving but covering no distance. "And to someone like you, well, as I said, that's all a matter of perspective. After all, have not entire weeks sped by without notice, while a single afternoon can feel like an eternity?" The skin around her eyes crinkle a bit, and she lowers her hands. The glowing Human vanished with a small flash, like that of a camera's bulb. "But overall, I'd say you would not judge a few scant months to be of much importance. And to one such as I, who saw this galaxy weave itself out of dust and chance, who has dove deeply into the streams of time and swam against its currents, a few months is hardly worth mentioning. Unless, of course, something of significance were to happen within that period. After all, the course of a river can be altered within the space of a few seconds. You just need the right set of circumstances and proper application of force."

Setting the pipe down on a circular side table, the woman leans forward, her unwavering gaze smoldering. "But then, ours is not the only perspective at play here. After all, every story exists in three minds." She lays a hand on her breast. "There is the storyteller, of course, who exercises godlike authority and presence, our minds existing in all parts at once but only disclosing a little at a time. There is the audience, who must receive the story in small chunks while living out little stories of your own. And then there are the characters themselves. They, I think, have the oddest perspective of them all. Entire years of life can be summed up into a few short paragraphs. A single significant conversation can take entire volumes to tell properly. You can leave a story in the middle of a page and not return to it months later, and they will patiently wait for you, their lives frozen in place until you get back. During that interlude, your entire life might have been turned upside down. Family, torn from you. The love of your life, found at last. Fortunes made and lost. Purpose achieved or stolen away. But for them? Maybe about a second or two. It really makes you think, doesn't it?"

Then she lets out a soft giggle. Oddly enough, there is a hint of embarrassment in the sound. "Of course, I don't see any reason to actually invite you onto the stage this time, not after how that last gaggle of theatrics had ended. Because let's be frank: that was just embarrassing, a desperate call for attention from fading starlet trying to hold onto her last lingering shreds of relevancy. Terribly gauche, and very regrettable. After all, what was really accomplished in that display? A few gasps, a few jumps, maybe a rolling of the eye from the more cynical among you? I assure you, I am among the latter number. I mean, really. What was that supposed to accomplish?" She shakes her head and lets out a soft snort of disdain. "No, no, no, there will be none of that nonsense. It is unbecoming for a character to assume the position of storyteller, especially of their own tale. And a storyteller calling excess attention away from the story in such an egotistical fashion is, well, let's be frank, just plain tacky."

Then she laughs. "But listen to me prattle on! I'm sorry, you didn't come here to listen to an old woman babble about pompous divas and postmodern theory. You came here for a story! And a story you shall have! It's one of my favorites, because I hate it so. One of the best days of my life, in which I lost everything. A bittersweet memory, one of triumph and loss. Full of joy and hope, tragedy and despair! Courage! Deceit! Rescue! Revenge! Freedom! Entrapment! Fulfillment! Death! Pain and panic and heroism and celebration. Such a wonderfully terrible time, depending on which end of the blade you happened to have been on."

Giving the hat one final pat, the woman moves past the fireplace and gently settles herself back into her chair. She plucks her pipe back up from its perch and taps the embers into a small ivory bowl. Removing a small silver box from her breast pocket, she opens it and removes a few pinches of some kind of dried herb. After tucking them into the pipe's bowl, she gently taps its side with a finger, and it lights up anew, pale blue smoke rising up to join the cloud that shrouds the ceiling.

"So," she says after taking in a long draw. She holds it in, letting the smoke trickle up out of her nostrils. "We begin. And like all tales worth listening to, this one begins with Dragons."

Then she breathes out the rest of the smoke. It fills the room, enveloping the woman and obscuring everything from view. The only thing that can be seen are her amethyst eyes, glowing hazily in the mist.

Then the light dims further, and the darkness grows stronger, until even the smoke is hard to see. The twin violet lights, however, remain steady. In fact, their glow is growing stronger. The lights grow and expand until they've joined together into a single flame. Then it too continues burn brighter and grow larger. It takes shape, its top forming a triangular point while the base expands outward.

Other colors start to bleed out of the violet. Soft blues, vibrant reds, gentle greens, and laughing yellows. Other shapes form, that of spires and trees and bridges and outcroppings.

Then the darkness fades away, making way for a rich blue sky. The smoke tumbles like dust, forming a sea of clouds that wash up against the flame. Only now it's not a flame at all. It's a mountain, a mountain of rainbows. And it is on that mountain that this tale begins.

…

They say that even those who dwell within the Heaven of Gensokyo rarely catch a glimpse of the Mountain of Opals, so obscured by thick clouds that a watchful eye can only catch a glimpse of a towering silhouette rising up through the mists. It is also said that on the rare occasions that the weather is clear, the mountain itself still remains unseen to the untrained eye, and those without the ability to look only detect a faint shimmer of light and an unusual number of rainbows.

The Dragons have always valued their privacy.

Even those who are fortunate enough to behold the mountain in all of its dazzling splendor quickly note one detail in particular. Among the majestic peaks and crystalline spires, there is a massive rectangular door set into the side of the mountain, one that seems to be make from liquid rainbows, if the way that every color swims against one another like clouds of ink is any indication. Where the door to be opened, it could easily accommodate entire armies marching rank and file. The great beasts of legend could pass through without fear of being cramped. It was a door for giants, for titans, for gods and monsters and myths. It was a door for the Dragons.

And it was always closed.

Given the exclusive nature of the Dragons, most consider this a good thing. For should a calamity great enough to draw the attention of the Dragons arise and cause them to come down off of their lofty perches and directly intervene, then the doom has already fallen, and the cure might prove as lethal as the disease. It is said that the great Dragon God could tear the land asunder simply by speaking, and while his subjects did not possess his raw, destructive power, they were more than capable of leveling the forests and setting the fields ablaze if roused, and no one wanted to see them roused. And so the door remained closed.

Until today.

Those looking at the right place at the right time in the right sort of way quickly defecated themselves. Because the clouds were gone, and the mountain was in full view. What was more, the door was now wide open. What lay beyond was impossible to say, due to the black smoke tinged with glowing embers that were issuing forth. But they could see who was coming out.

There were five of them: three women, two men. Their hair shimmered like gems, their severe eyes glittered like opals, and their robes shone so brightly that no one could gaze at them longer than a few seconds. They were tall, yes, but whether that just meant above average or towering like giants no two people could agree. In fact, most of the details were argued about when the few who had glimpsed them tried to tell the tale, as no two people seemed to have seen the same thing. But it was agreed that the five figures that marched out of the mountain were very large, very beautiful, and more terrible than anything they had ever seen.

They strode out onto the white and gold balcony that stretches out from the door. Without breaking stride, they then took to the air, the light of their majesty trailing after them like comets' tails. Their path was determined, their wills unwavering, and doom followed with them. The order had been given, from both their god and their king. Now, there was no going back.

And as they flew, their appearances changed. Nothing diminished about their majesty, but all semblance of humanity was dropped. Their bodies were consumed by light and seemed to evaporate, and soon it was not three women and two men that thundered purposefully down toward the land of mortals, but five great serpents, their mighty wings beating out a storm of lightning and hail in their wake.

The Dragons were coming. And woe be to the one they had been sent to destroy.

…

"Well, there they go," Mima said as she peered into the silvery orb hovering over her open palm. Within, five tiny glowing lizards were diving through a bank of clouds and stirring up quite the commotion behind them. She watched for a few moments longer before banishing the image with a derisive snort. "Complacent, pompous worms."

Mima had never had an especially high opinion of the Dragons. Oh, she respected their power, certainly. Despite all of her dastardly plotting and risky shenanigans, she had always made a point of never incurring their ire, even while beings such as Yukari and Shinki were considered free game. There was no doubt that they could crush her without a second thought should she give them reason. But she was naturally inclined to think little of those who had an abundance of resources and little drive to do anything with them. To her, the Dragons' reclusive nature was nothing more than a majestic waste of everyone's time. What good was having all that power and cosmic wisdom if you never bloody did anything with it? That colossal lack of ambition was just unforgiveable.

Still, in their favor, she had to admit that they knew how to make a great entrance.

Well, the celestial slackers were finally getting off their glittery asses and doing something productive for once, that was the important thing. Mima had to give Yukari credit, getting them involved was impressive. But also undoubtedly desperate, no doubt motivated by that tiff with Reimu Hakurei. In hindsight, considering that Mima had killed a Hakurei or two in her day, she should count herself lucky that she had never been paid a visit by sparkly flying lizards.

At the moment, she was hovering in a dark room within Toyosatomimi no Miko's mausoleum. After awakening literally right under Byakuren Hijiri's temple, Miko had been forced to relocate. It would not do to occupy the same plot of land as her rival, especially since Byakuren had such a head start.

And so she had moved the whole thing, lock, stock, and barrel. Her entire base of operations had been uprooted and placed within Heaven itself, the final destination for exceptional mortals. Why, Mima didn't know, nor did she really care. Maybe she felt that dwelling amongst the Celestials would provide ample motivation in her quest to become one. It didn't really matter. What did matter was that the mausoleum made for a magnificent place to lay low until the grand finale. Sooner or later, most likely that same day, someone was going to catch on that Madam Mima not only had not left Gensokyo as she had claimed, but was also back in the game. It would not do to be caught with her hat off.

Then a thin steel spike stabbed its way through the wall. Mima cocked an eyebrow and waited.

The spike than began to move around in a circle, carving away at the wall as it moved. Once it had returned to its beginning point, it retracted back in.

What happened next was quite odd. Because though a large circular chunk of the wall had just been carved out, the person responsible did not push it out to complete their hole. Rather, they sucked it in. The chunk simply shrank down and vanished into the point of the blade that had cut it from the hole, like a piece of paper being pulled into a vacuum.

The spike, as it turned out, was actually a hair needle, which was then stuck back in the elaborate hairdo of the woman that now hovered between Mima's room and the hall beyond. The woman was of average height and build, with a pale turquoise dress decorated with golden flowers and a blue-and-white vest. A brown leather bag was strapped to her back with a leather cord. Her blue hair was done in two large loops that sat on the back of her head like a second pair of ears. In her hand she held a slender, silver smoking pipe. Smirking, she drew in a long take and breathed it out.

"Seiga," Mima greeted her with a wry smile of her own. "You really don't much care for doors, do you?"

"Look who's talking," said Seiga Kaku, Miko's resident hermit and instructor in the ways of Taoism. She lazily floated into the room, reclining on the air like a Sultan being carried around on a litter. "'Oh, look at me, I can teleport. Here, let me show it off at each and every opportunity, just because I can!'"

"At least I don't leave holes in the wall," Mima said to her, though the one Seiga had created for use of her entrance was already starting to close. "Though speaking of which…?"

Seiga removed a satchel from her back. Tossing it to Mima, she said, "Here you go. As promised."

Within the satchel were a pair of scrolls, each one inscribed with a single, identical rune, though thanks to their complexity they took up the whole of the paper. "Ah, my friend," Mima said with a smile. "You always fail to disappoint."

Seiga folded her arms over her chest. "And they weren't easy to get, or cheap. Seems like an awful lot of trouble just for a little bit of special-effects, especially since they're bound to figure out that you're not Yukari sooner or later."

Teleportation spells were risky affairs. Oh sure, there were many that had a knack for them, Mima being one herself. Most spirits could pull it off, though few could travel the large distances she could. But teleporting another person, especially one of flesh and blood, was another matter entirely. And when it came to transporting several people at once, well, let's just say it takes a combination of sheer genius, incredibly power, and a certain level of insanity to even make the attempt and hope to come through without having to go back and search for limbs. Fortunately, Mima had plenty of all.

Of course, if you were someone like Yukari Yakumo, you could cheat and just send them through the Borderlands. But Mima didn't have access to the Borderlands, despite numerous attempts to claim its power as her own. So if she was going to keep up the charade of being Yukari to her pawns in the Scarlet Devil Mansion and the Palace of Earth Spirits, she needed a little more than the smoke and mirrors she had been using.

Hence, the scrolls. Each one contained a dormant mass teleportation spell, good for one use each. A seal lay upon the runes, keeping the elements from taking in magic. But once lifted, they would allow the user to safely teleport several people at once. Throw in a few extra illusions to mimic Yukari's gaps and the Borderlands themselves, and the fools were going to be none the wiser.

Laughing, Mima rolled the scrolls up and replaced them in the satchel. "Oh Seiga, you know as well as I do that the right effects at the right time pay themselves off several times over. Besides, I don't need to keep the deception going long, just long enough to get them into Mugenkan. After that, it's in God's hands."

To this, Seiga let out a disbelieving snort. Tapping a little more tobacco into her pipe, she twisted her body around in the air so that she was "sitting" down with her legs crossed. "They're not really cannon fodder, are they?"

There was more than one reason why Mima had chosen Miko as an ally. Access to Seiga was one of them. "Perceptive as always," she complimented, and meant it. "No, they're not. From what I hear, Yukari's assembling her own pest control team to rid Gensokyo of this particular infestation, and given what's happened, I expect it to be more than sufficient. So sending this rabble in actually increases Yuuka's chances of survival, seeing how they're probably going to throw Yukari off her game. But I want them there regardless. They're not cannon fodder, you see." She grinned. "They're the targets."

Seiga puffed a few times before returning the smile. "Ah."

Mima shrugged. "I always like to be thorough when it comes to revenge. And with Yuuka and Yukari sponging up everyone's attention, let's not forget who's brilliant idea it was to have Marisa attract Yuuka's attention in the first place, or who whispered in Yukari's ear to net a bunch of stooges together to fight her battles for her."

"So you ensure that Satori Komejii and Remilia Scarlet's loved ones are caught in the crossfire. Classy."

"Indeed," Mima chuckled. True, one could argue that she could have easily just introduced some horrid disease to her targets or lay a curse upon them that caused them to vomit up their own intestines, but such tidy work was reserved for necessary killings or when she needed to make some kind of statement. Revenge practically mandated that she have more fun with the process. "Best of luck to them. Hope they're as good as they make themselves out to be."

"And that riot you kicked up?"

"Oh, that's for Yukari. She raises such a fuss about civilians, so let's see how well she can sleep at night when a few dozen of them come storming into her scorched earth operation mid-scorching."

Seiga shook her head, though she was clearly impressed. "You, my lady, are a nasty piece of work. But then I already knew that."

"I know. It's shocking how many forgot." It really was. Mima was actually disappointed at how many of her former enemies had written her off. From what she was able to gather, only Hijiri's people had openly expressed any sort of suspicion in regards to her claim to have given up on Gensokyo entirely. Well, good for them. There was a reason why Byakuren had given her so much trouble during the Magician's War. Mima briefly considered adding her to the list, but decided against it. She was spreading herself thin as it is.

"Including Miko, it seems," Seiga said as she idly scratched her cheek. "I always thought her above such things, but I suppose everyone has their price." Her gaze bore into Mima's own. "Can you really do it?"

"Restore her into a man?" Mima shrugged and smiled. "Oh, sure, sure. The curse itself was a rather vicious bit of sorcery, but uncomplicated. And the counterspell wasn't hard to master. No, things are square on that front. So long as she plays me straight, she will be finally allowed to discard that pronoun, and Prince Shoutoku will get to tour Japan on his big comeback tour. He'll probably have to come up with a new name though. Generally speaking, long-dead historical figures returning from the grave tend to inspire more panic and revulsion than the awe and reverence that he'd prefer."

"Of that I have no doubt," Seiga said dryly. "What about the immortality?"

To this, Mima felt a rather unfamiliar twinge. How many times had she tried to convince Marisa to cast off the trappings of humanity and seek out one of the quicker routes to eternal life? She didn't have follow in Mima's footsteps. She didn't have to start any wars or perform any sort of blood sacrifices. Just go with something simple for the time being, anything to stop up that old hourglass. So what if she would no longer be Human? People did it all the time!

Too late now.

None of this touched Mima's face though, and her casual smile remained fixed. "Easy-peasy. There are literally dozens of paths to take. I doubt that there's a magical field that has been more thoroughly researched. My own ascension only required so much work because I was a bit choosy in how I wanted to come back. So long as he's not too picky and doesn't ask questions, he has a very long life ahead of him."

As it turned out, Seiga's poker face wasn't quite as good as Mima's, as a small flash of annoyance twists her lip. Mima knew why. The only reason why Miko was associating with someone like Seiga in the first place was to pick her brain for the secrets of the hermits and thus follow their path to escape death. If she was now cavorting with Mima, it could mean that she was ready to discard that option for whatever reason, possibly due to it being just so damned complicated. Marisa herself had decided against hermithood for that very reason. In a twist of irony, that also was the reason why Seiga was siding with Mima now. She was smart enough to see which way the wind was blowing. Better to join the winning team than fight for her meal ticket.

"Just so long as you remember to pay up, we won't have any problems," Seiga said coldly. There was a pause, and then she said, "This had better be worth it, Mima. And don't answer that with something kitschy like, 'Trust me, you'll get exactly what's coming to you.'"

Mima sighed. As much as she enjoyed the reputation she had cultivated over her career, sometimes it got a little annoying. "You know, despite what the press might think of me, treachery has only ever been a means to an end to me. This partnership has too much to offer to ruin it all with a knife in the back."

"Just know that I'm watching you."

"Please do," Mima said as she turned away from the hermit. Their conversation had gone on long enough, and it was now time for the next step. "These are always more fun when performing for an audience."

…

This was an abomination. But really, what wasn't those days?

The shards of metal were finally starting to glow. It had taken much longer than it would have with normal steel. Yuuka had been gradually feeding power into them for the last fifteen minutes, starting with a miniscule amount of heat and slowly building it up. She had passed the standard melting point for steel long ago, and then the twisted bits of black metal had barely been warm to the touch.

Clearly the added…impurity was resisting the heat. Perhaps there were even lingering bits of magic from the runes still engraved in the shards' surface. The whole had been broken, which meant the runes were useless now, and would be swallowed up once the shards finally hit melting point. But sometimes magic lingered, like a sticky stain that refuses to wash out no matter how much soap you use. That very well might be the case here. After all, they had been carved by a master. However, there was little doubt that the impurity itself shouldered most of the blame. After all, cold was its element.

Part of Yuuka hoped that the heat would sizzle it away, evaporate it like so much dross. However, she knew it was a vain hope. It was there to stay. Besides, she really didn't feel like breathing it.

A core of red started to appear within each of the shards. Soon those cores would grow, envelop them entirely and brighten to white. Then she would be able to restore the whole. It…wasn't a task she especially relished. The whole had nearly killed her, and had left scars. But if there was a better method of revenge against the dead than taking their own weapons, forged specifically to kill you, and turning them on their loved ones, then she had yet to-

"Master?"

Yuuka started with surprise and nearly fell over the stone slab. She managed to grab the sides and stop herself in time before her skin touched the shards. Then she slowly turned with evident displeasure toward the one foolish enough to interrupt her.

Elly stood at the door to the study, one hand on the handle of her metal serving cart, which was loaded with covered dishes. The ashen look on her face said that she knew full well that she had made a tremendous mistake and was bracing herself for Yuuka's wrath.

Yuuka was not about to disappoint her.

"Elly," she growled as she crossed the room over to her. "What is this? How dare you disturb me?"

Elly flinched as Yuuka's shadow fell over her. Good. At least someone still respected the balance of power. "It-it's breakfast, Master," she said, backing away a bit.

"Breakfast?"

"Yes. You weren't in your room like always, so I went to find-"

"I don't recall asking for breakfast," Yuuka said in a clipped tone.

"But…but you never do! It's one of my duties! I always bring it to you, and-"

Yuuka seized the side of the cart with one hand and upheaved the whole thing into the hallway. Dishes, eggs, sausage, and coffee spilled over ceramic tiles and patches of soft soil.

As Elly stared in shock, Yuuka leaned over and reached out to lightly touch the Reaper's cheek. She said in a guttural growl, "I said, I did not ask for breakfast. Or lunch. Or tea. Or any other unnecessary indulgence. I am busy. Do not disturb me again. Do you understand me?"

Elly was trembling slightly under her touch. She managed a stiff nod.

"I want to hear you say it."

"I…I understand," Elly whispered.

The fingers touching Elly's cheek clenched ever so slightly, enough for the nails to leave pink marks in the white flesh. "You understand…what?"

Elly's tongue briefly flicked out to lick her lips. "I understand, Master."

"Good." Yuuka abruptly turned and marched back to her work. "Clean that mess up."

"I-"

The door abruptly swung shut. As she had been standing partially within the doorframe, Elly was knocked back into the hall with a surprised, "Eep!" A few moments passed, and then Yuuka heard the sound of clinking dishes as she picked up the remains of Yuuka's breakfast.

Yuuka managed to make it all the way to the stone table before her legs buckled. She collapsed over the tabletop with a small gasp, her hands tightly gripping the sides for support.

Sweat already soaked her hair, and now it was dripping into her eye and under her eyepatch. Her vision blurred, and the cavern of her empty eye socket burned. Panting, she slowly turned around and let herself slide down to the floor, her back resting against the table. Now, why had she gone and done that for? Elly was just doing what she was supposed to. It wasn't fair to yell at her for fulfilling her duties.

Perhaps she should apologize. Elly had been quite upset after Yuuka had disciplined her for letting her guard down in the Tulip Room. Granted, Yuuka admittedly had been firm with her, but given how thoroughly her Reaper had fouled up her duties, she could not afford to spare the rod. But it stood to reason that she would still be sore after that scolding. So kicking her while she was down really was a bit mean.

Yuuka let out a slow, shaking breath. She was just tired. That was all it was. She had been working hard with little rest, and her nerves were on edge. She made a mental note to get some rest once she was finished, and when she started to feel like herself again, then she could-

Wait. No. No, that wouldn't do at all. A nap meant sleep, and sleep led to dreams. And dreaming meant opening herself up to that horrible, horrible laughter. It had been ringing in her ears and echoing in her heart for days, disturbing her rest and upsetting her peace of mind.

No. Better to finish all her work, not just the preparations. Then she would be able to sleep. Hopefully.

With a groan she straightened up and turned herself back to her work. Soon the shards were heating up again, their red cores glowing. In time the black metal would fuse together, recreating Marisa Kirisame's mordite blade.

One might think it odd that Yuuka had taken the trouble to retrieve the pieces and bring them back to her home. After all, there were many that would consider Yuuka a monster simply because of her origin, but even to her, mordite was an outright abomination. As questionable of a reputation as she and those like her might have, she still considered herself to be firmly on the side of Life. Life was her forte, her specialty. Her entire domain was dedicated to celebrating the beauty of Life and encouraging it to grow and flourish under the rays of the Sun. Death had no place in her world.

But then, one might ask, why bring a Reaper into her care? Why allow even a smidgen of mordite to pass through her borders? Why reassemble the blade that had been created specifically to snuff her out?

Well, the answer to that first part was simple. She had met Elly before she had decided to devote herself fully to Life's service, and it would be poor form to turn her away then simply because of past poor choices. Besides, Elly had once been a mortal, a creature of Life before Death had sunken its talons into her and stolen her way. Yuuka had decided to steal her back. After all, what greater slap to the face of the enemy was there other than taking its own servant away?

As for the blade, well, that was a bit more complicated. She couldn't exactly rehabilitate a piece of metal, much less one infused with bloody mordite. No, she had brought that back for a more specific purpose. Ever since that ghastly encounter with Marisa Kirisame, he rest had been restless. She suffered from constant nightmares. There was some slight variation among them, but for the most part, they all centered around the same thing: laughter. Marisa Kirisame's mocking laughter, forever echoing in her ears. Sometimes it was the girl herself, laughing unceasingly at her no matter how thoroughly Yuuka crushed her throat and broke her body. Sometimes she stood on a stage in the center of the spotlight, the audience shrouded in darkness, all of them laughing at her, all of them mocking her, heckling her, and all of them doing it in her voice.

And then there's the worst of the lot. In them, Yuuka's lying helpless on the ground, a cold, dead hand wrapping its fingers around her neck. Its grip is horribly strong, and nothing Yuuka does can break it. Marisa is straddling her, her face covered with shadows, with nothing but her mad golden eyes and gleaming white teeth visible. She's laughing as she chokes the life out of Yuuka, enjoying her victim's terror, her bloodthirsty grin slashing its way across her shrouded features.

Then she lifts the knife. Though there is no light, the black blade still stands out against the darkness. But even if it didn't, Yuuka would still know that it was there. She could feel the black hunger of the thing, lusting after her blood and her breath.

Still laughing, Marisa lifts the blade over her head, and Yuuka is powerless to stop her as she drives it into her heart. There's a jolt of icy pain, like she had been stabbed with an icicle, and Yuuka awakes, Marisa's laughter ringing in her ears and her scars burning.

Every dream ends the same way, with the blade plunging into Yuuka's chest. Sometimes the fingers of Marisa's crushed body elongate and turn black, becoming tiny mordite blades before she strikes. Sometimes she's pelted with the rotting carcasses of fruit while she stands on the stage, and as she tries to cover herself while screaming at them to stop, the knife comes sailing out of the audience to strike her down. But it's always the same. Marisa laughs, and Marisa kills her. Which was almost exactly how it ended, before Yuuka was able to…able to…

A feverish chill swept up Yuuka's spine, and she violently shook her head, sending droplets of sweat flying. No. No time to think of that now. She had work to do. She looked down at the shards. The metal was finally starting to grow soft.

It was Yuuka's experience that the best way to shut someone up was to turn their own weapons against them. The blade had been created for sole purpose of ending her life. Let's see if Marisa still felt like laughing after Yuuka used it slice open her little shrine maiden friend and cut out her heart as it crumbled to dust.

Despite her current dislike of laughter, Yuuka started sniggering. There was more of a crazy edge to the sound than usual, but she didn't care. It grew in strength, until the whole wing was filled with the sound. Soon, she was going to be the only one laughing. She was going to make sure of it.

…

It was roughly about the size of a golfball, a crystalline sphere, covered with facets. Light caught the facets as it turned, lighting each one up in turn before they were moved out of the Sun's reach and it was the next one's turn. The effect was sort of pretty, or at least it would be, were it not for the concentrated evil within.

The crystal was of a vibrant green color, like an emerald, or at least it appeared to be. In truth, the crystal was hollow and colorless. It was what was inside that gave it color, as evidenced by the sickly glow and faint hum it gave off. Plus, there was just something off about it, something malicious, viral, and corrupting. The green color swam in nauseating fashion through its prison. Though the crystal kept the energies at bay, just being in its presence caused stomachs to turn and sweat to bead on the skin.

Yukari stared into its depths, somewhat entranced by it. She turned it slowly over in her fingers, watching the facets light up. Despite what lay within, her attention was entirely focused on the facets themselves.

Her conversation with Dream of the Endless had been replaying in her mind a great deal as of late, though not the part about Yuuka herself. Rather, she kept thinking about what he had said about facets. Individually, they are beautiful, especially when the sunlight catches them. And when removed, they are no less a gemstone than the whole they had been removed from, just…smaller. But until then, they are just part of a larger stone, each cut surface making up a greater whole. A greater whole…

Come to think of it, the crystal did greatly resemble an emerald.

"Yukari!"

Yukari's head snapped up, her trance breaking. Shinki and Sariel were standing before her, watching her expectantly. Nothing had changed from the two Angels' garb, save that Shinki now wore a sword with a golden hilt in a black sheath. Still, there was no mistaking the looks on their faces. The Fallen were set to go to war.

"Right," Yukari said, standing. A flicker of her fingers, and the prison for a fourth of Yuuka's essence disappeared. "By now the Dragons will be on their way. Once they've caused a sufficient amount of turmoil, we will join them."

Shinki tilted her head. "You expect her to give them trouble?"

"Weakened or no, Yuuka is still the fragment of an Outer God, and we are still attacking her place of power." Yukari's eyes narrowed. "Yes. She will give us all a lot of trouble."

Shinki shrugged.

Letting it pass, Yukari continued speaking. "Once her defenses have…weakened sufficiently, the three of us will enter. You both know your jobs once you do."

"Indeed," Shinki said wryly. "And I have a problem with that."

Of course she did. "Oh?" Yukari said politely.

"Yes. I don't care how much we outclass her. This is not the time to be splitting up."

"I concur," Sariel said softly. "We ought to work together."

To this, Yukari favored them with a thin-lipped smile, one completely bereft of humor. "And I agree. Unfortunately, we have certain peculiarities working against us in that regard." She focused on Sariel. "The first being that when it comes to actually eliminating Yuuka, you're not going to be of much use.

Sariel didn't exactly have much of a poker face. True, its default manner was that of serenity and long-suffering tolerance towards just about anything, but that was mostly because more often than not it really was completely at peace with itself and whatever was going on around it. Whenever something did manage to rattle its cage, it was written all over the Angel's face, much like it was at that very moment.

"It's not so simple," Sariel said. "Our swords are more than simple weapons. They are-"

"Literal extensions of your being, woven from your essence and infused with your Glory," Yukari finished for her with a dismissive wave of her hand. "They act as symbols of your office and authority, and are only ever drawn in service of the Light. As such, employing them to end someone's life without direct instruction to do so from the head office will be seen as an affront to their purpose and a violation of your probation, and result you fully Falling instead of mucking about the technical edges of damnation. Yes, Sariel, I am aware of the peculiarities of your…kind. I only bring this up to point out that since there are things you can and cannot do, having you directly engage the enemy would be of limited use."

"Just because I am not to incur judgment upon Yuuka does not mean I cannot protect those with…fewer restrictions."

"Sariel's right," Shinki said. "We should work together."

Yukari nodded slowly. "All right then. Let's say we concentrate all of our efforts on Yuuka and Yuuka alone. What happens?"

"Well, I suspect she dies," Shinki said with a shrug.

"That is the intention. But she will not die easily, and as powerful as we are, she can be expected to make a day of it." She fixed the Fallen Angel with a hard look. "And in the meantime, Rin Satsuki can easily slip away in the confusion, taking Azrael's avatar with her. Which is something I think we can all agree is unacceptable."

Sariel opened its mouth. "I-"

Yukari cut her off. She wasn't done, and had never liked being interrupted. "As much as we'd all like it to be, this is not a simple smash and destroy mission. There are far too many objectives to allow us to devote our full attention to murdering Yuuka, as tempting as might be. Yuuka is going to be big and obvious and unlikely to abandon her lair until all has been ground to dust. Rin Satsuki had a nasty habit of vanishing at the most inopportune moments, and given that she has both a Nue and a Tanuki, finding her if she doesn't want to be found is going to be even more difficult." She paused for a few seconds, letting her point sink in. Then she said, "I need an Angel's eyes on the ground and making sure she doesn't slip past us in the chaos."

"Though are you even sure Yuuka is going to cause us that much difficulty?" Shinki said. When Yukari rolled her eyes, the Angel said, "I know, Outer God, threat fully realized and respected. But Marisa Kirisame took her on by herself and almost ended her."

"Yes," Yukari snapped. "Yes, she did. And Yuuka was clearly underestimating her and holding back for the sake of the game. I doubt she will show us the same courtesy. We are attacking her domain, ladies. We are chasing after the bear into its lair. That alone will give her power a considerable boost."

Shinki scowled. "I know how domains work, Yukari."

"Good. Then you know that while the firepower we're bringing along is more than enough to get the job done, it will be neither easy nor brief. We have a fight on our hands, ladies."

"I know that," Shinki sighed.

Yukari gave her a hard look. Then she turned to their androgynous companion. "Sariel. Should you find Rin, can you remove the Avatar on the spot?"

"In theory," Sariel said with a shrug. "We still have its sword, so it has yet to fully manifest. And I can certainly call it to me whenever I need to do the job. But it's a tricky endeavor, especially since I expect the world will be collapsing around us when I have the opportunity."

Yukari nodded. "Do what you must. The Shadow Youkai is our other priority, on equal footing with Yuuka." Then her lips thinned out, and she felt her left eyelid twitch. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "As for Rin herself, well, her retrieval is also a priority. Her comfort is not. Talk her down if you can, use force if you can't. We can make it up to her later. Curing her condition buys a lot of forgiveness."

She expected some sort of negative reaction from the ever-dour Shinki at the mention of Rin Satsuki, and the Angel did not disappoint. Her scowl deepened, her lips thinning out even more while her demonic lavender wings curled around her. "Right," she said dryly, conveying entire paragraphs of disagreement in that one word. However, that wasn't what she actually confronted Yukari about. "Though speaking of which, I have a couple questions about our other priorities."

"Leave that to me," Yukari said. "A vampire and a Satori are considerably easier to pick out of a crowd. Should they be alive and active, I should have no problem finding them. And if they're not, well, those crystals will protect them until the battle is over."

Shinki folded her arms. "Easier to find, but easier to break. Satori Komejii might be able to resurrect, but there will be a lot of fire being thrown around. Flandre Scarlet's chances of survival are not high."

"No, in fact they're abysmally low," Yukari agreed without hesitation. "Which is why I will be employing one of these." She held up a smooth, green stone, flattened as if taken from a riverbank. It was inscribed with runes of containment.

It was a receptacle of a net spell, one she had made herself. When the stone broke, the net was set to fall over the entirely of the Garden of the Sun. Of course, by covering such a large area, there wasn't much it could actually to do aid in the fight. Living creatures and most types of energy could pass through it without even noticing. But this particular net was intended not to catch the living, but to snare the essences of the dead. "She dies, her essence takes to the air and gets caught in this," Yukari said. "Shouldn't be too difficult to put her back together afterward."

"Yes, charming," Shinki said with a roll of her eyes. "Though that wasn't the question I wanted to ask."

Of course it wasn't. Bracing herself for another argument, Yukari said, "Oh?"

Shinki nodded. "As I said before, I understand fully why we must bring back Satori. She is one of us, after all." Her eyes narrowed. "But Flandre Scarlet is a liability at best. She is a monster."

Well, at least it was an argument that they had gone over many times before, and one Yukari was more than ready to dismiss. "Is she?" she said with a shrug. "Oh, what a shame. Too bad. We're bringing her back."

"And this has nothing to do with the tiff going on between you and Reimu," Shinki said. At her side, Sariel winced.

"It has everything to do with that," Yukari said. By now, she was quite tired of retreading that path. Denial would lead nowhere. Admission and dismissal would take her off of it. "I don't care about the vampire, and I certainly don't care about her idiotic sister. But I promised Reimu I would save the little parasite." She quirked an eyebrow. "Why, yes. It is blatant favoritism. Get over it. Clear?"

Shinki sighed in surrender. "Clear."

"Good." Yukari stuck her hands into the opposite sleeves of her robe. "Now, are there any other questions you might have for me?"

Shinki shook her head. "No, I do not."

"Good. That's good." That done, Yukari turned away from the pair and starting walking, though she kept talking as she did. "Well, suit up ladies. We've a long day ahead of us." Then, though she knew it was unnecessarily petty, she couldn't resist shooting off one last jab. "Oh, and should the head office wish to impose another crippling price on the privilege of protecting our lives, do let me know. It is the sort of thing they'd do."

With that, she tore open a hole through the fabric of reality and stepped through.

The two Archangels of Death watched her leave. Once the gap had closed and Yukari had gone, Sariel let out a sigh like crystal wind-chimes and said, "She still holds that grudge, I see."

"Of course she does," Shinki said bitterly. "Nothing like an imagined slight to justify one's contempt."

Sariel pressed its lips tightly together. "Sibling, we really ought to tell her."

"Ha!" Shinki barked out. "No."

They had had this argument a hundred times in the past, and God willing, they were going to have it a hundred times in the future. By now it was less of a disagreement and more of a dance, one to which they knew all the steps and had memorized the music. "Sibling, this isn't healthy," Sariel said. Despite the routine of its words, it still managed to sound as earnest as the first time, more so even. That was because it was. "This delusion of hers is only growing worse. If this keeps up-"

Shinki waved it off. "We told her from the beginning that removing those memories of her son would have side-effects, and she insisted we do it anyway. Not our fault that she couldn't handle the guilt. And honestly, if it makes her feel better to imagine that that gap is due to some idiotic price imposed by the Angels, fine. She's going to hate us regardless of the truth. I'd at least rather she had a reason, however false."

"Shinki," Sariel said, its tone admonishing.

Shinki sighed. Here they went again. And again. And again. "Sariel, look. If there's one thing I've learned in all my years of exile, it's to stay out of family matters. And for all her pretensions, Yukari is just as mortal as the rest of them. Getting involved the first time was a mistake, one I am not about to make again. This mess with the Hakureis is of her own making. Leave her be."

…

Yes, yes, yes! This was it! This was perfect!

Scarcely daring to breathe, Patchouli sat hunched over her desk, her gaze focused on the crisp piece of paper sitting before her. As promised, Mima had stopped by to offer a few suggestions as to how her prismatic barrier generator could be improved. Apparently the years since the genius magician had first abandoned the idea had led to some breakthroughs, because this new design is exactly what is needed to get the damned thing to work!

The basic idea is still the same: a low glass dome surrounded by a crystal rainbow. Except now the dome itself is less than half the size of the original, now little more than a gentle hump instead of the steep hill Patchouli had been using, and its gear-shaped base is gone, replaced by a series of steel circles of the same design set in the ground between the dome and the crystal.

As for the crystal, that was different as well. Instead of a circle of different-colored, head-sized gems sitting on a circle of steel pillars, it is now a wall, a seamless circle of crystal that flows from one end of the light spectrum to the other sitting on a knee-high steel base. It was so brilliant, and yet so simple! Even as she admired it, Patchouli was kicking herself for not realizing it before. All of her prototypes had been focused on improving and strengthening the dome itself, to make it more powerful so it might be able to handle the constantly changing frequency. But the problem was in the frequencies themselves. By trading in the individual components for a single, solid whole, the transition from one elemental frequency to the next becomes a more gentle process instead of the series of shocks that the original design had been subjecting the generator to.

Granted, the wall itself was going to be a royal bitch to construct, to say nothing of the price. But that was fine. Remilia had money to burn, and would probably never even notice it. In fact, after they had gotten done rescuing her sister, she would probably happily provide whatever Patchouli wanted.

Then there came a sharp rap at the door. "Patchouli!"

Patchouli almost fell out of her chair in surprise. She seized the side of the desk, hauled herself upright, and cast a glare at the door to her study. "What?" she said as she swiftly folded up the blueprint and slipped it into one of the drawers.

"Patchouli, are you almost ready?" Koakuma called from the other side. "It's almost time to go!"

Ready? Right. Patchouli was quite certain no matter how much she prepared, she was never going to be ready for this. Still, she was as ready as she was ever going to be. "Yes, I'm coming!" she said. Then she grabbed a bottle of a glowing purple liquid off the desk and gulped it down. It burned going down, and she had to lock her teeth together and force herself to swallow to get it all the way down. "Bleh," she said as she dropped the empty bottle next to another half-dozen of its kind.

Patchouli had to admit, she was of two minds about the endeavor she was about to embark on. On the one hand, to have a leading role in one of Madam Mima's big projects had been a dream of hers ever since the first time she had read one of the spirit's tomes. Mima was such an amazing influence on her life that being able to take part in last great act before leaving Gensokyo forever and helping her strike down her greatest enemy was an honor that no mere words could express.

On the other hand, doing so required a great deal more physicality than Patchouli was strictly comfortable with. She admittedly wasn't much of a field magician. Her talents were more directed towards research and private experimentation. Actually operating on a battlefield wasn't exactly her idea of a fun way to spend an afternoon, especially since there was still a very real chance that she could be killed.

Which wasn't to say she wasn't prepared. She had traded in her heavy robes for a pair of cotton pants and a sweatshirt, both of them reinforced with as many shielding enchantments that she could think of, to the point that steel armor offered less protection. Belts crisscrossed around her hips and torso, bearing bags and pouches of various charms, spells, and other weapons to be used in battle.

And as for the physical problem, well, Marisa Kirisame had survived her first major battle against Yuuka through use of numerous enhancement potions. Granted, her health had crashed immediately afterward, but at least she had been alive. And if she could put herself through all that to give herself an edge, than Patchouli could do it too. She certainly would have no objections to spending a couple of weeks in bed, if that. Youkai did heal more quickly than Humans, after all.

Well, they healed from injury more quickly. That hadn't protected her from asthma and anemia, whereas Marisa had been perfectly healthy. So it was quite possible that her weak constitution meant that she was going to be bedridden even longer than the Human had been. Bedridden, and in the grips of feverish hallucinations and needing to vomit anything she ate mere moments after swallowing it.

Groaning at the thought, Patchouli shuffled her way toward the door. She was already having second thoughts about this.

"Okay," she said as she stepped out of her study and into the library. "Let's go-"

Then she saw her familiar and stopped. And she stared.

"Koakuma," she said at last. "What…what exactly are you wearing?"

Koakuma looked down at herself. "What, this? It's armor."

"Armor," Patchouli repeated in a disbelieving tone.

"Well, yes," Koakuma said with a shrug. "We are going into battle, after all." She frowned and tugged on one of the straps. "Granted, it's been a while since I had a chance to wear it. I think I've put on a couple pounds, but it still seems to fit all right."

Patchouli's brow rose. "Ah," she said. "And exactly what universe does that count as 'armor'? Because if I recall, we are going to infiltrate an enemy stronghold and quite possibly fight for our lives, not compete in a swimsuit competition!"

At this, Koakuma looked a bit hurt. "This is the traditional armor of my people!"

Patchouli knew this, actually. Koakuma was a Succubus, after all. But she had spent so much time in Patchouli's service working as a librarian rather than a seductress and had long gotten accustomed to modesty that Patchouli had been expecting her to go with something a little more…practical. "My hat has more material in it," Patchouli said, jabbing a finger at the covering on her head. "And that includes metal! What, exactly, are you expecting that to protect? Congratulations, your groin is shielded away, well done. As are roughly about fifteen percent of your breasts." She cupped her hand under her own (and it should be noted, fully covered and defended) bosom to demonstrate. "That still leaves every vital organ open to…oh, I don't know, arrows, swords, scythes, whatever pointy objects Yuuka chooses to-"

"Ladies," Sakuya said in a crisp tone as she strode out of the maze of bookshelves toward the pair. The maid had traded in her work outfit for her old pin-stripe monster hunting garb. Which, it should be noted, covered just about everything but her face. Sakuya was a professional, after all. "We are pressed for time. Is there a problem?"

"I, well, no," Patchouli stammered. "It's just…" She lifted an arm and pointed a finger at Koakuma, who sighed.

Sakuya looked her up and down. A small smile quirked up one side of her lips. "Ah, yes. The traditional battle garb of a Succubus. Mmmm, that takes me back."

Koakuma blinked. "Takes you…I don't understand, takes you back?"

"Of course." With one hand, Sakuya indicated the outfit she was wearing. "To my days as a professional monster hunter. I always liked hunting Succubi and Incubi. There were just so many points of entry."

Patchouli snickered. Koakuma shot them both a dirty look, to which Sakuya merely smiled at in return. Then with a sigh, the little devil raised her hand and snapped her fingers.

Fire leapt out of the ground to surround her. When it cleared, Koakuma had traded in a few strategically places scraps of leather and metal for the armor of an Aur'burran demon royal guard. It was large, it was bulky, it was done in all blacks and reds and featured more sharp thorns than a rose garden.

"There," Koakuma said, her voice muffled by the insect-like helmet she was wearing. "Is this better?"

"Certainly not," Sakuya said. "We're a rescue squad, not the front lines. And the Aur'burran royal guards are just for show anyway. Something a bit more practical, please."

With a growl, Koakuma snapped her fingers again, her metal gauntlets making the sound echo through the cavernous library. This time, when the fire cleared, she was wearing a boiled leather outfit that, while still form-fitting, at least covered most of her skin and would allow free range of motion. The leather itself was of a deep brown, almost red, with spiked gauntlets, steel-toed boots, and numerous other nasty surprises that weren't visibly obvious. A short, poison-green cape with a deep-cowled hood was clasped to her shoulders, and wavy designs of the same color slithered down over the outfit.

Patchouli sucked in a sharp breath.

"How's this?" Koakuma said icily.

Sakuya frowned. "Well, it's certainly an improvement, but I can't say I recognize it." The admission seemed to bother her, which made sense, given her reputation as a demon hunter.

However, it wasn't demon armor Koakuma was wearing. "It's the uniform of the Serpentine Marauders," Patchouli whispered. Then, realizing that the less said about Mima the better, she let out a dismayed little squeak.

However, it was too late. "The Serpentine Marauders?" Sakuya said, her porcelain brow creasing. "Wait, weren't the name of Madam Mima's cultists, way back during the Magician's War?"

"Er, well, yes," Patchouli said, making a pointed effort not to meet the Lunarian's eyes. True to form, Sakuya noticed this, and short her an odd look out of the corner of her eyes.

Koakuma looked down at her outfit. "Oh, is it? Uh, actually, I sort of chose it at random."

"Did you?" Sakuya said.

"Yeah, I just needed something light and flexible, and this is what my mind came up with." Koakuma looked at her in confusion. "Why, is that a problem?"

About five seconds trudged by, though the heavy silence made it feel much, much longer. The fact that the sound of the library's giant pendulum echoed through the stacks every second only made it worse, as if it rubbing in the uncomfortable feeling that had fallen upon the trio. Patchouli had always found the sound of the pendulum to be rather soothing, a focusing percussion to set her day around. But right now, she wanted to tear the damn thing off the wall.

Then Sakuya sighed, and the spell was broken. "No, I suppose not." She nodded once. "It'll do. Come. Meiling is waiting for us."

With that, she turned on her heel and floated into the air, flying over the stacks toward the elevated entrance.

Koakuma shot Patchouli a look. Grimacing, she shrugged, as if to say that she had no idea why Sakuya was behaving in such a manner. Patchouli ignored the gesture. Truth be told, she wasn't exactly sure herself how to react to Koakuma's choice of wardrobe. On the one hand, it was probably just a coincidence. Despite being a Succubus, Koakuma was pretty lousy at the whole subtlety thing, so it was unlikely that this was her way of hinting to Patchouli that she knew who the magician was really working with. Besides, yelling at her would just raise all sorts of bothersome questions, ones that Patchouli couldn't being to answer. No, better to just let it be, and just accept it as an accidentally appropriate omen or something.

Though truth be told, part of Patchouli was a little jealous that she hadn't thought of it first…

The two librarians took to the air themselves and followed Sakuya to the top of the wide stairs that descended down into the library. Meiling was waiting for them at the top. In contrast to the unconventional garb of her companions, the redheaded gate guard wore the same puffy white pants and green robe that she always did. Though given her job, perhaps her customary outfit was the most suitable.

"Hi!" she said sunnily as they approached. She looked them over. "Wow, you guys look badass. Ready to go?"

"So it seems," Sakuya said as Patchouli and Koakuma touched ground. "I assume our…temporary replacements are in place?"

Given the importance of what they hoped to accomplish, Sakuya refused to leave with anything less than the best the mansion's staff had to offer: namely, the four of them. The fairies were useless for this sort of thing, and she wanted as few whispers going around about Yukari Yakumo's plan as possible. Unfortunately, it also meant leaving the mansion unguarded for a few hours, which was unacceptable.

To that end, she had ended up doing something that Patchouli had never expected her to do and hired mercenaries. To be specific, she had brought in some of the Eientei Guard. Patchouli wasn't exactly sure what she had told Eirin Yagokoro to get her to agree. Of course she couldn't have told her that they needed someone to fill in for her and Meiling while they went on a super-secret raid of Mugenkan itself. Yukari Yakumo would have their hides. It couldn't be because they were both Lunarians. Patchouli had already gotten a close look at how those wretched people treated one another. Maybe she had simply just asked. Eirin Yagokoro really hadn't been herself as of late. Maybe the guilt over having failed so many people had made her less willing to ask awkward questions and more eager to help her neighbors.

Well, whatever the reason, the Eientei Guard was here. Patchouli supposed she was fine with that, so long as they stayed out of her library. Maybe if they did their jobs well enough some of them might be convinced to stay on. The gods knew that they needed better than Meiling.

"Sure are!" Meiling said, saluting. "Just got done showing them the ropes."

"Good to hear," Sakuya said, her tone suggesting that the Guard probably already knew their business better than Meiling did. "Well, that's all of us. Let's-"

At that moment a massive rip tore through the air and opened up. It was one of Yukari Yakumo's gaps, if the purple world full of floating eyeballs on the other end or the bizarrely out of place ribbons tying off both ends weren't indication enough. Patchouli swallowed. She had never been through the Borderlands before, and though the researcher in her was admittedly curious, on the whole it was an experience that she really not one she wanted to have in person.

Yukari Yakumo, however, didn't seem the slightest bit phased as she stepped through into reality. "Ah, you're all here," she said, surveying the little group. "And all ready for action." Her golden eyes briefly flitted from one face to the next. They touched upon Patchouli, and the magician swore she saw the edges of the elder youkai's eyes crinkle with amusement. Patchouli felt her cheeks brighten. It was true, she did look a little ridiculous, but this wasn't her element, damn it! Yukari had been the one to insist that she go along. What right did she have to think her funny? Patchouli was literally risking her life on Yukari's behalf. One would think that that would earn her at least a little respect.

But all of that is forgotten when Yukari caught sight of Koakuma. For the briefest of moments her face freezes, and her eyes go wide. Koakuma blinked, clearly surprised by the attention. Patchouli is too. The devil's presence had been cleared ahead of time, as had Meiling's, so why-

Then she understood. Koakuma was wearing the armor of the Serpentine Marauders, who had once held claim to the title of the greatest threat Gensokyo had ever seen. Under Madam Mima's rule, they and their allies had cut a bloody swatch across the country, massacring all that crossed their path. And though she and Mima had long buried their hatchet, Yukari probably did not have any pleasant memories associated with that armor.

And with that understanding came a sudden, sickening realization. As far as Yukari knew, Mima had left Gensokyo for good. Enemy or ally, it didn't matter anymore; the spirit had taken herself off the gameboard. But Patchouli knew well how much of a lie that was. Mima was still very much active, and Patchouli was being wielded as her weapon.

In a pouch attached to her belt were three cardboard rectangles, each one painted a different color and inscribed with a rune. At a cursory glance they appeared to be spellcards, and in a sense they were. After all, when activated, they brought down a storm of ordnance upon their target. Except these has nothing to do with danmaku, and were definitely not certified under spellcard rules. They were Mima's act of revenge against Yuuka Kazami. Patchouli was to leave them wherever she could inside of Yuuka's house, and when they had rescued Flandre and Satori Komejii and made their escape, she would activate them.

Yuuka had taken Mima's favored apprentice from her. In return, Mima was going to destroy Yuuka's home. Despite what defenses she might have in place, they were not going to stand against room-sized rocks descending upon her house at terminal velocity after being yanked from orbit.

It wasn't the most elegant form of revenge, nor the most thorough. But seeing how Yuuka had already been sentenced to die at Yukari's hands, Mima had wanted to add a little personal touch of her own.

However, if Yukari were to suspect that Mima wasn't gone at all, that she was still in the game, everything could be ruined. Koakuma's outfit had been chosen in innocence, but what if Yukari decided that it hadn't been? What if she were to make the connection and discover what Mima was up to? Granted, her line of reasoning would be faulty and based purely on coincidence, but the conclusion would be right on the money. Patchouli was already sweating a bit from the early stages of the enhancement potions, but this realization was really making her forehead glisten.

But then Yukari just rolled her eyes, shot a disappointed look at Patchouli, and turned away with a huff. Patchouli swallowed, but allowed herself to relax a bit. That's right, Yukari would know of her admiration of Madam Mima. Maybe she thought that Patchouli had made her familiar don that outfit out of some self-indulgent fantasy. Well, if that was the case, then Patchouli wasn't going to dissuade her.

"Well, you'd better be off then," Yukari told Sakuya. "Remember what I said. Wait for me to open a door, then you'll be on your own."

"I know the plan," Sakuya said, her voice chilly.

"Good. Oh, and before I forget, there's been a last-minute change to the roster. Rin Kaenbyou insisted that Utsuho Reiuji be brought along as well, so you'll have to keep an extra eye on her to ensure that she doesn't accidentally roast your wayward vampire alive."

To this, the residents of the Scarlet Devil Mansion all but choked. Patchouli herself nearly tripped over her own legs, and she had been standing still. Sakuya gaped openly at the elder youkai, her normally unflappable demeanor vanishing in light of this new disaster. "What?" she gasped. "What are you saying? Have you completely lost her mind? This is a rescue mission! That girl is a liability! You told me that she wouldn't-"

"Miss Izayoi," Yukari said. "Shut up, or you're out."

Sakuya obeyed, but only through great force of will. She clamped her jaw shut, though her frosty eyes still burned with cold fire.

"This is the way it will be," Yukari told her. "Utsuho is in. I don't even want you bringing it up. Should you encounter Yuuka, you will need all the firepower you can get your hands on. So make the necessary adaptations and deal with it. Clear?"

Patchouli had to admit, she had never seen Sakuya look quite so furious before, and the maid had always seemed to live her life in differing stages of anger. For a moment it looked as if she were trying to kill Yukari through the power of her glare alone, and Patchouli almost believed that she could do it. Such things were not without precedent, after all.

But Sakuya did no such thing, though she probably would have liked to. In the end, she tilted her head in grudging acquisition.

"Smart move," Yukari said. Then she waved her hand and opened another gap. "Well, time to go. Saddle up, ladies, it's going to be a rough ride."

They watched as she stepped through the first gap, which then closed behind her. The second remained open like a hungry mouth, waiting for its meal.

Despite their orders, the four of them still hang back for a few moments. Sakuya and Meiling exchange uneasy glances, and Patchouli knows why. Despite their frequent clashes, both the maid and the gatekeeper cared deeply for both of their undead mistresses. And they had both had the same thought. Sure, Satori Komejii have a fair chance of survival should Utsuho Reiuji lose her head. In truth, there was very little that could end a youkai's life for good. But Flandre was a vampire. Flame was her weakness. One stray shot, and she would burn.

Granted, they were already taking that risk. Between Rin Kaenbyou and, well, Patchouli herself, there was already a fair amount of magic ready to be flung around, all of which posed a threat to Flandre. But Utsuho was on a whole other level. At least those who had been on the team from the beginning knew what they were doing. The Hell-Raven wasn't exactly known for her tight control, and nuclear fire had a habit of…spreading.

As for Patchouli herself, she had never been close to Flandre. In fact, she barely interacted with her at all, save when she got loose and Remilia needed Patchouli's help bringing her rampaging sister under control. But she was still part of their weird little family. And Remilia was her best friend. Patchouli remembered Remilia's forced confidence that her sister would be rescued soon and how much it had worried her. Remilia had been hanging on by a thread, with nothing but her desperate, almost delusional hope sustaining her. If she lost Flandre for good, she would break.

And it's all Rin Kaenbyou's fault.

Patchouli felt herself grow more than a little angry. So, their so-called "allies" had decided to stack the deck in their favor, to ensure that their missing master had a better chance of being rescued while placing the SDM at a disadvantage. It was typical, it really was. Somehow it seemed that everyone was always going out of their way to exploit them.

Well, they were about to learn that the Scarlet Devil Mansion wasn't to be screwed with. Despite their ever decreasing odds, Flandre was going to come home, safe and sound. As for Satori…well, sure, they would rescue her if they came across where she was being held.

If.

Then she realized that her hands were already fingering the cover of the pouch that held Mima's vengeance. Well. There was already quite a lot of that going around. Maybe, when all this was over, a little more could be spared for Satori Komejii's damned pets. Nothing big or permanent. Just a little something to remind them that though they tended the fires of Hell, Remilia was known as the Scarlet Devil for a reason. Maybe Mima could even be persuaded to stick around a little longer to lend a few pointers. After all, rumor had it that it had been Satori Komejii's idea for Marisa to be at that battle in the Blasted Lands in the first place.

Sakuya took a deep breath and slowly let it out. The fury seemed to seep out with that breath and her face resumed its usual coldness. But Patchouli knew her well enough to know that her rage hadn't gone anywhere. It was simply under control.

"Well," she said. "We do what we must." She nodded toward the still-waiting tear in reality. "Come on, ladies. Let's go repair our broken family."

She stepped into the gap and was gone. Meiling followed without hesitation. Koakuma shot a glance to her boss, clearly as uncomfortable about this as she was. Patchouli took a deep breath and walked over. She had heard that the process took less than a second. She hoped that the reports had not lied.

But then she hesitated and frowned. Something was…off. Though she had never traveled through one of Yukari Yakumo's gaps before, she had seen her create them often enough. And though the energies radiating off of this one were the same, there was still something…off about it. Patchouli couldn't put her finger on it, but her sense of the mystical was wrinkling its nose. Something was wrong.

"Patchouli?" Koakuma said, tilting her head. "What's wrong?"

Shaking her head, Patchouli forced those thoughts from her mind. It was just nerves, that's all. Now wasn't the time for paranoia.

Taking another deep breath to replace the one she had just released, Patchouli stepped through.

…

It was almost time, and Jun was nowhere to be seen.

Wringing her hands in agitation and anger, Orin stomped her way out of the room where the rest of the team was assembled and waiting. Then she slipped into her cat form and bounded down the hallway to find him.

It was typical, it really was. Here they were, moments away from the most important and dangerous thing they had ever had to do, and her stupid beta was tardy. Orin had hoped that in light of all that had happened he would have set aside the animosity between them and work with her to bring their remaining master back, but no. Yukari Yakumo was going to be there any minute to meet up with the Scarlet Devil Mansion gang and begin the rescue, and he wasn't there. And now she had to go find the idiot.

Making a mental note to dent his skull as soon as they got Satori back safe, Orin quickly rushed through the mansion in search of him. The air was so thick with the scent of years and years of Satori's various pets moving through the halls and leaving their musk everywhere, but fortunately Jun was so pungent that it didn't take long for her pick out his freshest trail. For some reason, he was in Koishi's old room.

Growling, Orin resumed her Human form and marched over to the door. She had no idea what he was doing in there, but she had a royal earful ready for him. Four of them in fact.

Then, before her hand touched the doorknob, it turned and the door opened. Jun stepped out.

"Okay," Jun said as he stepped out. His voice was already rough, but now it sounded like he had waxed the inside of his throat with sandpaper. "Let's go."

Orin's hand was still extended. She slowly withdrew it and said, "What were you doing in there?"

Jun's face scrunched up in a quizzical manner, one canine ear lying flat while the other rose up in synch with his eyebrows. "I was saying goodbye to Koishi," he said, as if the answer should be obvious.

It wasn't. "Koishi?" Orin said. "Jun, what are you talking about? Koishi's been gone for years."

Jun didn't say anything, though his lips did thin out.

Orin stared at him, her brain working double-time to figure out what he was talking about. There was something niggling at the back of her mind, something important that was screaming for her attention, but something was keeping her from figuring out what it was. It was like an itch she couldn't reach. No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't-

Then suddenly, her mind seized upon the answer with all the desperation of a drowning person and hauled it into the light. "Koishi!" Orin gasped, her anger evaporating. "She's here!"

"Indeed," Jun said dryly. "And has been. For several weeks."

This was bad. If Orin had forgotten someone so important to her that completely, it could only mean one thing. "It's gone, isn't it?" she said. "Whatever Yukari Yakumo did to her, it's worn off."

Jun sighed, his shoulder slumping. "Just about," he said. "I couldn't even keep her attention. It was like she was looking straight past me. She didn't even remember my name."

Orin swallowed. She may not like Jun all that much, but no pet deserved that. "I'm sorry," she said.

Jun's lips curled in a snarl, and he turned away. "Let's just get this over with."

They made their way through the halls to where the rest of the team was waiting. As they did, Orin glanced uneasily toward Jun. The big Doberman was striding forward in long, determined strides, hands clenching and unclenching with every step, the veins in his neck standing out. His eyes were narrowed, and he was breathing so heavily that Orin half expected him to start spewing out puffs of flame. He was a man readied for violence, and though she had never had much trouble keeping him in line, Orin found herself grateful that his rage wasn't directed at her for once.

As for herself, she wished she had his determination. Oh, she wasn't really all that scared of the mission itself. It was dangerous, sure, but she had face Yuuka before. Granted, Yuuka had thoroughly kicked her ass, but it hadn't been the first time she had been killed by something meaner than her, and it wouldn't be the last. Besides, they weren't even supposed to confront Yuuka directly. All they had to deal with were her plants. And sure, those could be incredibly nasty, but with the team they had assembled, combined with the Scarlet Devil Mansion's entourage, she was reasonably certain that they could handle whatever stood against them.

No, it was the mission itself that troubled her. Something about it stank. When it came down to it, Orin was a cat. A highly evolved magical cat, but a cat nonetheless. And cats had certain instincts about such things, and all of Orin's were screaming at her to abort immediately.

"I wonder why you could still remember her," Orin said suddenly. "Koishi, I mean."

Shooting her a rather nasty look, Jun let out a snort of contempt. "That's easy enough," he said without breaking stride. "A dog never, ever forgets his master. Even when her eye first closed, I could still smell her."

Orin looked away. And with that, she had her answer as to why she was still going along with Yukari Yakumo's madness, despite all of her misgivings. She wanted Satori back, and she was going to walk through the fires of Hell itself to get her back.

It then occurred to her that maybe that metaphor would probably hold more meaning if it weren't for her day job.

They were waiting for her in the courtyard. The best and strongest among Satori Komejii's menagerie of animal youkai. It honestly wasn't much, only four others total, but given that they were a rescue party and not an assault group meant that they had to go with quality over quantity.

Among those four was Clover, a Kasha cat like Orin, who had a long golden braid falling down her back. She was one of the best trackers they had, and had the best chance of sniffing Satori out. Nico the bulging-eyed fish youkai, who carried an automatic crossbow and a machete and knew how to use them. Brutus the billy-goat stood nearby, one hand on his large double-headed axe, his thick beard bristling. His role was obvious.

Among those four was of course Utsuho herself. Like always, her height, her wingspan, her aura of power, and the eye of the devoured sun god peering out from her chest gave her a commanding presence. Or rather, it would, if she wasn't slouching nervously in the back, her free hand fiddling with the control rod encasing her other arm. Orin found herself shaking her head. Utsuho may rank in in the smaller double digits when it came to sheer firepower, but she had never been a fighter and never would be. It just wasn't in her nature. Which…probably was part of the reason that Kanako Yasaka had chosen her for her reactor project, damn her.

But as much as she wanted to comfort her, Orin couldn't just yet. She was the alpha, after all. Straightening her posture, Orin strode back and forth in front of those assembled and said, "All right guys, look. Now, I'm not gonna lie to you. We're about to rush right into a really bad situation. It's gonna be scary. It's gonna suck. And I don't care how immortal we are, we going to be in a lot of danger. But we gotta, because Satori's there and she needs us. So we're gonna go in there, and I don't care how many forests we need to burn, but we're going to take her back and bring her back home, safe and sound. So if any of you wanna whine about what we're up against, take a hike and don't come back, because Satori sure as hell doesn't need wimps like you. Got it?"

Insofar as pre-battle speeches were concerned, hers probably wouldn't exactly receive high marks if scored by a panel of judges. But screw it. None of those judges had never been a pet. None of them understood what it was like to have their master taken away from them. But the others did. She could see the nods of agreement and grim smiles from the small party she had gathered and knew that they understood. There wasn't many of them, but they were the best and the toughest, and they were all ready to follow her into the other side of Death itself. And Orin was damned proud of them. Even Jun.

Unfortunately, though her words were meant for no other ears than her fellow pets, there was another set present, listening. And as soon as Orin finished speaking, they answered.

"Well spoken," said an unwelcome voice. "You words fill me with determination, Miss Kaenbyou. No wonder you're top cat around here, with vocal skills like that."

A ripple of anger and dismay swept over those few gathered, and what little morale Orin's speech had managed to piece together unraveled in an instant. Mumbling to herself, Orin turned face the insufferably arrogant visage of Yukari Yakumo.

Orin wasn't really sure how the elder youkai managed to come off as so overwhelmingly unlikeable, but every encounter with her left Orin fighting the urge to claw the gold out of her eyes. It had been especially bad as of late. During the lead-up to the fight with Yuuka Kazami in the Blasted Lands and the ill-fated attempt to use Koishi to scam the Underground's disgruntled, she had been rude, curt, condescending, and just incredibly unpleasant to work with. But at least it had been in a way that Orin could respect, albeit grudgingly. Back then, she had come off as simply impatient and unwilling to tolerate fools, and so happened to consider everyone that was not her to be a tremendous fool. But now she had decided to add traits like "smug" and "mocking" to the list, while ramping up the arrogance to unbelievable levels.

Orin didn't understand her, she really didn't. Oh sure, Orin could be tough on those that deserved it. She pushed the other pets around and knocked their skulls together when they got out of line. She could be plenty mean when the situation called for it, and having to manage such an ornery menagerie such as Satori's often called for it. But she was the alpha. She had to do it, it was part of her job! That didn't mean she enjoyed it. Yukari, on the other hand, seemed to get a kick out of upsetting people and ruining their day.

Taking a deep breath, she said, "They weren't meant for you."

"Obviously not," Yukari sniffed. "I for one have never needed pretty words in order to inspire motivation. The task ahead alone is always enough."

"Good for you," Orin said. "Is it time to go?"

The look Yukari shot her made Orin's feline ears stand up on end. "No, I was just passing by but had to stop to listen to your lovely speech. Of course it's time to go. Why else would I be here?" She looked over the small pack Orin had assembled. For his part, Jun simply folded his massive arms and stared back in turn. The others also stood up straight and didn't flinch under the attention, though it was less convincing coming from them. Orin could literally smell the sour scent of their nervousness. And though she was the only one that might possibly give Yukari something of a fight, Utsuho didn't even bother trying to put on a brave front. She just "Well, this is certainly the muscle I asked for," Yukari said at last. She glanced over to Orin. "I trust you'll be able to keep their baser instincts in check?"

The others blinked. Then teeth were bared as a low chorus of growls rose up at the disrespect. Orin felt like hissing herself. "Don't worry about us," she said.

Yukari rolled her eyes. "I worry about everything. It's my job." She gave the group one last look over. This time, the others didn't have to fake their bravado. Rankled nerves had a special way of killing intimidation. "Wish I could say the same for Sakuya Izayoi though," she said in an offhand manner. "I was just down at the SDM to take her little party over. She gave me quite the earful."

"Earful?" Orin frowned. "About what?"

"You, actually," Yukari sighed in longsuffering manner. "She went on and on and on about letting amateurs onto the field, how they could handle this themselves, how your bird here was a liability, and so on. It was quite annoying."

Utsuho blinked, her face perking up. "I'm a what?"

"A danger," Yukari told her. "Or so she though. Nerves, I'd suspect."

This time Orin did hiss. She was already fed up with Yukari's arrogance and condescending attitude. She hadn't expected to get it from her soon-to-be teammates as well. "Amateurs. She thinks we're amateurs, huh?"

Shrugging casually, Yukari said, "Well, to be fair, you sort of are, at least compared to her." Then, seemingly to notice how much the Kasha was bristling for the first time, she finally turned to give Orin her full attention. "Well now. This isn't going to be a problem, is it?"

Jun stepped forward. "It might be," he growled from the back of his throat.

Predictably, Yukari was unimpressed. "Well, it won't. I mean it. I don't care if your tender little feelings have been hurt. I don't want you even bringing it up. You can write her a nasty letter if you want after it's over, but for now, suck it up and deal. Sakuya Izayoi has more experience in these sorts of things than all of you combined, so she's in charge." She glanced from one glaring set of nearly animal eyes to the next, her own gaze full of warning. "Am I clear?"

Orin reminded herself that in a few hours' time, Satori would be back where she belonged. The family would be whole again, and they would never have to deal with Yukari Yakumo ever again. Probably. Even so, it was a few seconds before she was able to hiss out, "Yes."

Then Utsuho spoke up. "But I wouldn't hurt anyone on purpose." Everyone turned to stare at her, most of them shocked that she had drawn attention to herself at all. Indeed, as soon as she saw all the staring faces, Utsuho's cheeks turned red and she seemed to wilt. "Um, I mean, not anyone that wasn't trying to hurt us first," she said lamely.

Orin sighed and pinched her nose. Normally she would have been thrilled that Utsuho was standing up for herself, especially to someone like Yukari. But this was really not the time. "Okuu, not now," she said.

"I mean, I want to save Flandre too!" Utsuho said, her voice rising higher. It's because she's scared, Orin could tell that at once. Whenever Utsuho got really scared she had a tendency to start babbling away about whatever was on her mind. "Well, not as much as I want to save Satori of course, but I'm not going to hurt Flandre either! Why do they think-"

"Hey," Brutus snapped. "Egghead. Zip it, okay?"

Despite having just told Utsuho the same thing (albeit somewhat nicer), Orin reflexively whirled toward him and hissed, "Don't you tell her to-"

"All of you," Yukari said. She didn't raise her voice, but it cut through the argument anyway. "Control yourselves. Right now."

Orin and Jun both shut up and backed away from one another. They had fought so many times in the past that simply breaking things off prematurely takes a great deal of effort, but Orin beat down her alpha instincts. As they ebb away, they are replaced with a fair amount of shame. That had been bad. One slip and she went right after one of her closest allies' throat. From the way he's averting his eyes it seems that Jun was feeling the same. How were they supposed work together with the Scarlet Devil Mansion crew long enough to save their loved ones if they couldn't even get out the Palace of Earth Spirits without laying into one another?

Yukari waited what felt like an unnecessarily long time before saying crispily, "Good. Now remain under control or I will transport the lot of you right back here and let the professionals deal with this matter however they see fit."

With that, she tore open two gaps. One she stepped through and closed behind her. The second she left open for her "team" to use.

When it was clear that she wasn't coming back, Jun growled out, "Pretentious, self-absorbed, little-"

"Jun," Orin said, but her heart wasn't in the admonishment. Hell, she felt the same way.

"They really are all the same," Jun said, undeterred. "Overdwellers. Think us a bunch of savages."

"Then don't prove them right," Orin said. "We deal with this and never have to see them again."

Then Utsuho said, "But I'm not really a liability, am I?" She looked around, hoping that her fellow pets would back her up on that, but most of them found something else to look at.

Utsuho looked like she wanted to cry.

Then suddenly, before Orin could go comfort her, a big hand fell onto the Hell-Raven's shoulder. Utsuho stiffened, and turned to see Jun standing right next to her. What was more, he wasn't scowling. He wasn't smiling either, but then he never did unless Koishi was around.

"Look Utsuho," he said. He was making a genuine effort not to growl, Orin could tell. "Yeah, you're a liability. That means you're dangerous. You are godsdamned scary. And that's why you're coming, hear? We're going somewhere scary, so we need someone scarier on our side so we can feel brave. Got it?"

Everyone looked at him surprise. Utsuho especially seemed floored. It was perhaps the kindest thing he had ever said to her, and judging by the way her face brightened, it did more to restore her spirit than a hundred comforting words from Orin.

It was strange that he would go out of his way to cheer her up after having held nothing but scorn for her for so long, but upon reflection, it didn't seem so odd. After all, when push came to shove, when the world was turned against them, it didn't matter if they liked each other or not. They were still family.

"Okay," Utsuho said, her wilted wings rising up. "Uh, thanks, Jun."

He still doesn't smile, but his gruff nod was as good as one. Then he turned to Orin.

"Okay," he said. "Let's go kick that Sun-licking bitch's ass."

A low chuckle spread throughout the room, almost a cheer, and one by one they all started to head for Yukari's waiting gap. As Orin was already there, Jun led the way, as is his right as the beta.

He stopped when he reached her and looked down at her. His brow furrowed quizzically when he saw the look on her face. "What?" he said.

Orin smirked. Then she reached up and gently punched him in the shoulder. "My speech was better," she said.

At last he smiled. "Nah. Just longer." Then he glanced over to the gap and bowed his head while sweeping his arms toward the tear in reality in an "After you" gesture.

Right. It was time to do this. To hell with Yukari. To hell with Yuuka. And to hell with the Scarlet Devil Mansion and what they thought. Orin glanced over her small pack, smirked again, and turned to step through the gap. Ready or not, Yuuka Kazami, here they came.

…

With slow, methodical movements, Elly finished brushing the last of the breakfast she had spent forty minutes preparing into her dustpan. She straightened up and dumped the contents into the trashbag she had recovered from the janitorial closet and tugged the strings tight, shutting off the mouth. She twisted them into a knot and lifted it with her good hand to set it on her serving cart.

She placed a hand on the cart's handle and started to push it down the tile path that wound through the indoor flowerbeds. But then she hesitated. She looked over to the door to Yuuka's study. Beyond, she could hear Yuuka mumbling to herself, audible even over the sound of hissing metal.

Elly stared at the closed door for a good long time. Then with a heavy sigh she started walking, pushing the cart down the hall.

It was odd, but it seemed that the worst things got, the bigger Mugenkan became. Back when things had been fine and she had been happy, traversing the halls had taken no time at all. She could prepare and bring Yuuka her breakfast, clean up around the pooldeck, and be back to collect the dirty dishes within moments, or so it had seemed. Now it seemed to take ages just to pass through Yuuka's private quarters. And to top things off, it seemed that Yuuka had loosened one of the cart's wheels when she had flipped it over, causing it to now squeak horribly. Elly winced at every revolution. She could fix it easily once she had it in the workshop, but until then it was making so much noise she kept expecting Yuuka to burst out of her study again to admonish her for breaking her concentration.

She reached the junction where the path branched off in three different directions, one of which would lead her out of Yuuka's private quarters into the more "public" part of the mansion. But before she made the turn, Wriggle found herself pausing again, and staring down at a closed door.

Down at the end of the other branch was the Tulip Room, which had once been Wriggle's room before she had ran away. She was locked inside it again, her and the rest of her friends, each one contained within a giant tulip among the rest of Yuuka's, well, "personal keepsakes." Yuuka had made sure of that after catching them breaking in. And though she had yet to visit the same treatment upon them that the other inhabitants of the room had regularly experienced, it really was only a matter of time. If Elly listened hard enough, she thought she could make out the sound of Mystia's weeping.

Shuddering, Elly quickly moved along.

In time, Elly finally left Mugenkan and made her way around the building toward the dumpster that sat behind the kitchen. With slow, careful movements, Elly pushed the lid up with her scythe. Then she seized the neck of the trashbag and swung it up inside.

Letting the lid fall shut, Elly then leaned back against the dumpster's metal side and slid down to the gravel covered ground. Drawing her knees up, she clutched her scythe close to her chest and started crying.

It was a good long time before she stopped, but she was feeling too miserable to care. She wanted things to go back to the way they were, back to when Yuuka would never dare hurt or even raise her voice at her, back before Rin, before Flandre, before Marisa, Yukari, and even Wriggle. She wanted things to go back to when she felt safe and happy, though in her heart of hearts, she knew that they never would. Yuuka was broken. And now, it was only a matter of time.

Finally her eyes were dry, and she could breathe without sobbing. She pulled out a handkerchief and blew her nose loudly. Then she stood up.

Elly had to admit, she did feel a little better. Oh sure, things still sucked beyond the telling of it, but at least she had been able to let everything she had been keeping bottled tightly inside her have a little release. That counted for something.

Then as Elly moved to push her serving cart toward the workshop, she looked up to see that her life was about to get much worse in the most ridiculous manner imaginable.

At first she didn't understand what she was seeing. Even in a land of magic and wonders like Gensokyo, this was far beyond the pale. But then the first bloodthirsty roar split the air and a gout of rainbow flame spat down upon the orange grove, and Elly finally realized that what she was seeing was real.

With that realization came a fresh stab of fear. It had finally happened. Yuuka's recklessness had finally caught up with her. Like Elly had warned her, all those she had stepped on were kicking back, and they donned their steel-toed boots to do so.

Another roar assaulted Elly's eardrums and rattled the windows, and as the ominous shadow passed over where she was cowering, the little Shinigami finally found it within her to get her legs moving again and run back into the mansion.

This time, the halls didn't seem long at all as Elly tore through them, and before she knew it she was at the door of Yuuka's study. "MASTER!" she screamed as she pounded both fists against the door, not caring how much it hurt her damaged wrist. "We're under attack! Dra-"

Suddenly the door swung open and a long hand thrust out to seize Elly by the jaw. The little Shinigami was lifted right off her feet until her two eyes were level with the only one Yuuka had left.

"What is the meaning of this?" Yuuka growled. "Did I not leave you with very specific instructions not to-"

Normally Elly wouldn't have dared interrupt her master when she was like this, but this situation was far from normal. Wrenching her jaw free, she flew back a couple feet and screamed, "We're under attack! There are Dra-"

Yuuka stiffened as if she had been slapped. "You dare interrupt-"

"No, listen to me! We're being attacked by-"

"How dare you! After all I've done for you, you would still show such disrespect-"

"But there's-"

"One would thing that by now you would have learned your place, you little-"

"DRAGONS!" Elly screeched. She jabbed a finger toward the window, where the shadow of one of the legendary creatures was currently passing over the azaleas. "We're being attacked by DRAGONS!"

Unfortunately, this revelation didn't seize Yuuka's attention like she had hoped it would. "Young lady, that is quite beside the point," Yuuka said. "Because right now-"

Then flame of pink, green, and orange washed past right outside, setting the flowers alit and shattering the glass windows.

Yuuka froze in place, her lecture dying in her throat. Slowly she turned to see the destruction taking place right outside. "What in the world?" she said as she walked over to look.

In Elly's opinion, once Yuuka was actually seeing the devastation for herself, it still took her an unnecessarily long time to figure out that yes, they were being attacked by angry Dragons. Sure, it was such a ludicrous concept that a moment or two of stupefied staring was justified, but not the near minute Yuuka took.

Finally the master of the Garden of the Sun spoke. "Those are Dragons outside," she said.

Elly nodded in enthusiastic agreement.

"They're burning my garden."

"Yes! Yes they are!"

"Why are Drag-" Then Yuuka inhaled sharply, her eyes narrowing. She looked up as one of the beasts circled overhead. "Yukari," she hissed.

To this, Elly also agreed. Who else would it be?

"Well, that changes things," Yuuka murmured, mostly to herself. Shaking her head, she sighed and said, "Elly? Would you be a dear and see to the mansion's defenses?"

"Me? But I-"

"The flowers will do as you say. I simply need a commander on the field."

Elly didn't much care for the sound of that at all. After all, taking on a Dragon was not in her job description. Still, she reluctantly nodded and said, "Okay, but…what about you?"

"Me? Well, that's easy."

With that, Yuuka lashed out with a sharp kick at the wall beneath the shattered windows. The marble broke as easily as the glass did, and with her path clear, Yuuka strode out into the burning garden, cracking her knuckles as she went.

"This wretches have attacked my home and hurt my friends," Yuuka said over her shoulder. With every step, her form shimmered and seemed to melt away, becoming less and less Human. "For that, I will pluck out their tongues and wear their pelts as a cape. And then I'm going to find Yukari and jab their teeth into her eyes."

…

"And there they go," Mima observed as she and Seiga watched the devastation unfold from the safety of Miko's mausoleum. As her little hovering orb made for an unsatisfactory entertainment center, she had conjured up a full three-dimensional miniature of the Garden of the Sun, with all of its little dramas playing out in real time. Already the quintet of Dragons were scorching the fields and setting the groves and flowerbeds aflame. "Looks like they caught that daft dandelion off her guard."

"Marvelous," Seiga purred as she withdrew the smoking pipe from her lips and puffed out several smoke rings. They bobbed their way through the air to mix with the illusionary smoke rising from the burning garden. "And surprising. One would think that someone as hated as her would have been better prepared for torches and pitchforks."

"I'm not," Mima said. "Everything Yuuka's done thus far has displayed an almost suicidal level of recklessness. Which either means that she has tired of her exile amongst the mortals and is seeking to go down in a blaze of glory, or…"

"Or she thinks herself indestructible?" Seiga suggested.

"Quite. Or is trying to delude herself into believing she is. Death, I think, is something she cannot truly comprehend. And what she cannot comprehend, she fears. So she tries to convince herself that it cannot touch her, that she is beyond its power to touch." Mima smirked. "Imagine what it must have been like. To have spent centuries of your existence as a being beyond mortal comprehension. The universe was your plaything, and reality was an option rather than a fact. Then suddenly, you find yourself kicked down to the lowest rung of the dimensional ladder. A lowly mortal, little more than the little insects that would go mad in your presence. Tell me, how would that make you feel?"

"Paranoid," Seiga said. "Though not for long. I'd have killed myself before they could."

Mima chuckled at that, though mainly because her experiences with self-destruction were a bit different than everyone else's. "All right, but let's say that that you never truly understood the concept of danger to begin with. The thought that one of those insects could ever pose a threat was something that you had never even considered. And fear was something that-"

"I think your metaphor is starting to get away from you."

Though she was a little irked at being interrupted mid-monologue, Mima let it slide. "True. But the point stands. For all her show of going native, I don't think Yuuka has ever really appreciated the finer points of mortality. Such as actual mortality. And the universe's frequent attempts to remind her just push her deeper and deeper into denial. Which is why, despite everything, she still leaves her door unlocked."

Seiga raised an eyebrow. She let out three consecutive puffs on her pipe and then looked down to regard the pyrotechnics going on below. "She's going to wise up in a hurry," the notorious hermit observed.

"True enough," Mima agreed. "That garden has the reputation it has for a reason." Then her smile returned. It was slow and full of anticipation, almost sensual in its surety that everything would soon go her way. "Which means I should make my entrance before the door gets locked for good."

…

The place Yukari Yakumo had brought the four from the Scarlet Devil Mansion was dark, cold, and quiet. Or it would be if Patchouli wasn't breathing so loudly. Those potions she had taken would keep her asthma under control for the next couple of hours, though at the cost of further ruining her health once all this was over. So it was probably just nerves. Patchouli wasn't cut out for this sort of thing, which made Yukari's insistence that she come along and not some other magician of equal talent and greater field experience.

As for Sakuya, she was also on edge, though not from fear. Oh, she's scared, but unlike Patchouli she had years of experience in controlling her fear. Directing it. Channeling it into motivation. No, it's not dread she felts, but eagerness. The thrill of the hunt. To once again stretch her legs and throw herself headlong into danger, to chase the monster back into its lair and teach it the meaning of fear. Her life as Remilia Scarlet's maid had presented her with very little opportunity to exercise those skills, and living in Gensokyo had given her even less, what with its spellcard rules taking away half the fun.

But even in her excitement Sakuya was still mindful of the task that lay before them. They were not setting out to kill, but to rescue. Yukari had pressed upon her how important it was that Satori Komejii be found and brought home, of the political and social role she needed to fulfill and that saving her ought to be their top priority. Well, Sakuya certainly had her on the list, but to her mind, the only true priority was Flandre. Sakuya was going to go into the monster's lair and she was going to bring the prodigal home, and there was no power in Heaven above or Hell below that was going to change that, and there was going to be plenty of both.

Then a voice spoke to her out of the dark, mere centimeters away from her ear. "Well, you look primed and ready to go."

Sakuya's body moved without her telling it to. In less than a second, a knife flashed into her grip as she spun around, its silver blade whistling as it cut air.

It stopped, though not by a grip of slashed flesh and marred bone. A soft golden light appeared to fill the small cavern, and Sakuya saw Yukari Yakumo sitting there on a rock, her honey eyes regarding the maid with mild irritation. The blade of Sakuya's knife was held between her thumb and index finger.

Sakuya's first instinct was to release the knife and duck down to thrust a second blade into Yukari's stomach, but fortunately by then her rationality had caught up. So instead she stood still, waiting for the tension in her muscles to subside. They do, and Sakuya reluctantly released the knife's handle.

Yukari quirked an eyebrow as a small smile crept up one cheek. She offered the blade back to Sakuya and said, "Now that wasn't very nice."

Sakuya slowly took her weapon back, her gaze not remaining steady. "You startled me," she said evenly.

"You startle too easily," Yukari said with a shrug. "It's unbecoming of a professional, especially given what's at stake. Take better care once you're inside. You don't want to accidentally bury one of your knives in your darling little mistress's shriveled heart."

From the back of the cave came a distinct crackling. Sakuya recognized the sound of Meiling's knuckles popping. Sakuya chewed the inside of her cheek. As simple-minded as she was, Meiling was still one of the most even-tempered people Sakuya knew, but even her nerves were starting to grate. Yukari truly had a special talent for burrowing under people's skin. "I won't," Sakuya said.

"Hmmm, such confidence," Yukari observed, her smirk sharpening over her teeth. "I hope she displays as much concern for your life."

There was much Sakuya could have said then, but Yukari was right about one thing. She needed to act like the professional she was, so the only thing she said was, "It is time?"

"Just about," Yukari shrugged. "The attack is already underway, so I'm about to bring over the Earth Spirits crew. Once your team is all together, I'll blow open the way. From there, you will be on your own."

"I know."

"Good," Yukari nodded. "Oh, and remember what I said earlier. I don't care how upset you are about Utsuho Reiuji's presence. Play nice."

Sakuya could hear Meiling gritting her teeth. "We will," she said coldly.

"Good. Well, good luck ladies."

A gap opened directly in front of Yukari, seemingly consuming the elder youkai and taking her from the cavern. And out through it stepped six youkai.

Rin Kaenbyou Sakuya already knew, or at least knew of. Same with Utsuho Reiuji. There was also a large man with spiky blue hair; a petite brunette woman with large, bulging eyes; a husky, long haired man with a thick beard; and a dour looking women with a bright yellow braided mane.

Two cats, a dog, a bird, a fish, and a goat. That was their reinforcements. And they outnumbered the Scarlet Devil Mansion residents by a full two members. Sakuya felt her hands twitch. She was supposed to be the one in charge, and here they were stacking the deck against them.

Rin Kaenbyou looked up at Sakuya and her eyes narrowed. Sakuya feel the hostility radiating off of her and her fellow animals.

Well, they could resent her all they wanted. They could rearrange the roster behind her back if they wanted to. She was still the one in charge. "Well now," she said to Rin Kaenbyou "I suppose this is it."

"Yeah," said the cat. "It is."

"Unfortunate that we haven't had a chance to meet in person before now. It might have made strategizing simpler."

"Yeah. Well. Work with what we got, I guess."

Sakuya favored the beast with a cold smile, silently warning her to watch herself.

Then it was time.

Light gathered over one of the walls, collecting into a bright yellow disk. There was a loud hiss, and Sakuya instinctively closed her eyes and shielded her face.

The darkness behind her eyelids briefly became as bright as day, and the ground rumbled. When Sakuya opened her eyes again, there now was a wide tunnel seared through the stone, one sloping upward.

"All right, you've all been told your jobs!" she snapped at those gathered. "Patchouli will shield us the best she can. Everyone with distance attacks, kill everything with roots! Everyone who works in the short range, keep our artillery covered. Don't let anything sting, slap, or splatter you. If we run into Rin Satsuki, do not engage. Run. If we run into Yuuka, do not engage. Run. She's Yukari's." Then she took a deep breath. "And I suppose this goes without saying, but if we encounter Flandre Scarlet and she turns out to be hostile, leave her to us. If anyone so much as singes a hair on her head, I will know the reason why." Then she pointed a finger directly at Utsuho. "As for you, you are to fire on Yuuka and Yuuka only, and only if there's no other way past her, and only if you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that it's her and not some trick. Got it?"

There was some grumbling, but no real objections. Good enough.

"All right. Let's go!"

They rushed upwards, through the tunnel, boots and bare feet alike smacking against the smooth stone of Mugenkan's foundations. Soon patches of soil began to appear, weaving through the rock of the tunnel, scooped out for Yuuka's "friends." There were smoking black lines shooting here and there through the dirt, the seared remains of roots. No doubt they were unhappy about having their bottoms scorched from below. No doubt they were going to make their displeasure known to their approaching visitors.

Despite knowing very well how dangerous Yuuka's plants were and the looming possibility of encountering the mistress of the house herself, Sakuya was smiling. No, not just smiling. A savage, bloodthirsty grin split her face, her teeth gleaming like those of a pouncing predator. It had been so long since she had hunted. Though she had not forgotten the nature of their mission, her blood was singing.

And then they were in.

They had emerged into what looked like a dark storage cellar. Boxes, barrels, and casks all sat in neat rows on the smooth stone floor or perched high on shelves. What they contained Sakuya couldn't guess. Hopefully nothing flammable. There were going to be fireworks enough without accidentally getting themselves caught in an impromptu display.

But of greater concern were the plants.

Down there in the dark there were glowing pale blue mushrooms spreading their tendrils like a net over the walls or rising up from the ground like bulky lamps. There were patches of tough lichen covering the mushroom's guts, their tiny arms rising up in response to the sudden intrusion. There were black vines weaving their way around the boxes and over the lichen, stonelike plants that shunned sunlight while silently growing their thick, head-shaped bulbs in the darkness.

It was a bizarre menagerie. Sakuya herself couldn't even put names to the foliage they saw or tell where they came from. But it didn't really matter. They were going to burn just the same.

As the party reached the mouth of the tunnel, the plants responded. The bulbs hanging from the vines stretched out on their stalks and turned toward the intruders. Slits opened down their fat bodies and they opened up, displaying rows and rows of wet, curving thorns like teeth. The mushrooms rose up on their stalks, their tendrils extending out from the walls and up from the ground like the tentacles of an enraged sea monster. The lichen seemed to crawl up and down the walls like a dark hoard of ants.

Sakuya admittedly had more experience hunting and killing creatures of flesh and blood than she did with plants. But she got the distinct feeling that these ones were rather surprised to see this strange party of animals bursting in from below. Furthermore, not a one of them much cared for the disturbance, least of all the ones that had had their roots burned by their entrance.

That was fine. Plants or creatures of meat, she knew how to take advantage of a good surprise.

Before they even set foot in the room, her small party went to work. Mushrooms were blasted to pieces, toothed fruit blown to juicy chunks, and the lichen was frozen stiff or seared away from the walls, depending on Patchouli's mood. One of the pets annihilated one patch of fungi after another with concentrated bursts of invisible force, while Orin happily set the glowing tendrils alight.

"Careful!" Sakuya shouted as she hurled three quick fistfuls of knives, severing half-a-dozen clumps of black fruit from their stalks. "We don't know what's in those crates!"

"Then let's get outta here and somewhere where we can cut loose!" snarled the big dog.

No one had any issues with this, and they charged forward. Occasionally a mushroom would explode in a manner that could only have been deliberate and spray them with a cloud of blue mist, but thanks to Patchouli's enchantments they didn't so much as get wet.

"There!" Koakuma shouted as she pointed. There, a wooden staircase ascended to the roof above, where a trap door led to the rest of the mansion.

The party turned toward it, but almost as soon as they did, three giant mushrooms surge up at the staircase. They wrapped their tendrils around its steps and railings. There was a pained groan, and the whole thing was crushed into splinters.

The dog let out a whine of dismay. "Well, that's just perfect! Now what?"

Fortunately, Sakuya wasn't at all discouraged. She hadn't even planned on using any stairs offered. "Patchouli," she said.

The wizard's face was already pale and sweating from exertion, but she nodded. Patchouli thrust her hands into the air, and seven glowing orbs appeared in a circle directly over her, each one a different color.

The orbs started orbiting furiously, becoming a blur of color over the magician. Then they shot straight up, their orbit contracting until they hit the ceiling at a singular point. There was a flash of light and a shower of dust. When it clear, a sizeable hole was now directly above them, as neat as the one that Yukari had dug out for them.

But Patchouli wasn't done. In a motion not unlike an impassioned participant in a religious revival, she clapped her wrists together, her palms open to the ceiling, all of her fingers spread wide. Another sphere appeared, though this one was clear and colorless and shimmering with a halo of white light. It flew high, following the path of its fore bearers and rising up through the hole that they had sacrificed themselves to create. In accordance with their example, there was a sudden flash and an explosion of noise. And with that, Sakuya knew that for all the resistance they were going to meet once they got upside, at least they weren't going to get struck down before they could so much as clear the hole.

"Up!" Sakuya ordered, but she didn't need to. Everyone was already zeroing in on the hole, eager to take things to the next level.

The house did not disappoint them.

They came into the mansion proper. Here, it was as if someone had taken the inside of an elegant Victorian mansion and the surrounding garden and squashed the two together, with marble walls; expensive furniture; more knick-knacks than an antique store run by an obsessive-compulsive old lady; and shrubs and flowers of every shape, size, and color covering the walls and rising up from the soil patches in the floor.

It was a very pretty place, if not a bit eccentric. And of course very, very dangerous. Even if she hadn't spotted the clusters of blue Mykr's Sirens hanging from the ceiling, she could already feel their buzzing in her teeth.

Of course, it took all of half a second before her little gaggle of allies started smashing the bejeebers out of it.

"Careful with the fire!" Sakuya shouted. She grabbed Orin by the shoulder. "We don't have Flandre yet!"

The redheaded youkai shot her a furious glare, her feline ears bristling. She hissed a bit in displeasure, but then, catching the look on Sakuya's face, sulkily lowered her ears and turned away. She nodded, and took greater care about her aim.

"What about me?" Utsuho said. She had yet to fire off a single burst of nuclear flame, for which Sakuya was grateful.

"Save it for Yuuka," Orin reminded her.

"But what if we don't meet her?"

"Then you can thank your gods," Sakuya said. She was thinking of the pocketwatch sitting nestled in her breast pocket. She longed to use it, but didn't dare so long as a single Mykr's Siren lived. Even with Patchouli's assurances, she didn't trust anything Yuuka was involved in to work as predicted.

Fortunately, though she could not extend it to the world around her, her power over time and space still kept her armed with as many knives as she needed. And she used them freely.

They moved forward, cutting down plants as they went. The plants, it should be noted, had since recovered from their shock and were greeting their guests in the appropriate manner. Thorns dripping with venom thrust their way up through the smooth flesh of the vines, which then curled up and lashed out like the whips of slave drivers. Beautiful blossoms opened, spreading their delicate petals. Then they spat out clouds of clinging acid. Thin, wooden spikes shot out with the same accuracy as Sakuya's knives. She saw several of them embed strike Koakuma in the side, only to be stopped by the tough leather. She had a feeling that the little devil was now glad that she had gone with something less traditional and more covering after all.

The dog wasn't so lucky. Two thorns hit the back of his left hand and stuck fast. As he lurched back with a yelp, the skin around the tiny, wooden spikes already began to flame up and swell.

Sakuya didn't hesitated. Her hand was a blur of motion, the knife flashing through the air. The dog's hand fell to the ground, severed cleanly from the wrist.

"Argh!" the big canine roared, clutching at the bloody stump. "Why you-"

Then he stopped. The detached hand was…well, it was sick. The flesh around the thorns was now as puffy as the mushrooms that they had cut down and red as beets. The fever had spread around the rest of the hand and was quickly marching across the fingers. Little black spots were pushing up out of the swollen bits, ringed with shiny pus.

Orin gagged. There was a flash of flame, and the hand was cooked to ash.

"Ah," the dog said, still staring. "Well. I'll get another one, then." He shot a glance at Sakuya and grudgingly nodded his thanks. Orin then rushed over to help him cauterize the dripping wrist.

Sakuya nodded. Then she had to duck to avoid getting pricked by an angry vine. "Patchouli, do your damned job!" she shouted as she severed the vine in two.

If Patchouli's face had been sweating before, now it looked like she had been caught in the rain. Clearly, those potions weren't helping much. "I'm trying!" she said as she struggled to keep her barriers up. "But those Sirens keep fighting me!"

Cursing, Sakuya turned to the others and said, "Don't forget the blue flowers! Kill all that you see!"

"LOOK!" Meiling suddenly shouted, her voice rising above the din of battle.

The youkai gatekeeper was pointing to a tall double door set in the wall. Vines covered it, sealing it as tight as a king's treasure vault. "What?" Sakuya said. All the doors they had seen so far had been covered with vines, so she wasn't sure why this one was important.

"Can't you feel it?" Meiling said, her brow furrowing. "The energy…it hurts my teeth!"

Koakuma nodded, her face pale. "Me too," she said. "There's…something wrong in there. Something…holy. But not."

"What?" said the machete-wielding fish.

Koakuma looked annoyed. "I'm telling you, there's something holy in there! Only it's being used for something that isn't! I'm a demon, I know these things!"

Sakuya's brow rose. The only think she could sense was the buzzing of the Mykr's Sirens. She turned to Patchouli, who just looked tired. "Don't look at me," the magician said. "I got my hands too full to bother with sensing energies."

Orin cracked her knuckles. "Well, that seems worth checking out then. Someone want to knock?"

The vines were cleared away without much trouble. Then, after Patchouli confirmed the absence of wards, Meiling went up to the door and politely knocked once. With her foot.

Then she blinked. "Well," was all she had to say.

It was like a museum. The room was round with a domed roof, the floor plain marble with no patches of soil. The walls were free of vines and leaves. And hanging from them were articles of faith.

Christian crosses. Muslim moons. Jewish stars. Shinto arches. And everything in between: spirals, eyes, hands, wheels, flames, swastikas, beasts, and a dozen other symbols. They were made from metal and wood and carved onto stone or woven into cloth or inscribed onto yellowing paper. They were made from the hides of animals and perched on the heads of staffs. They were pieces of clothing and leather-bound books. They hung on the walls and sat on pillars and were suspended on wires from above.

They took on a hundred different forms made from a dozen types of material. The one thing they had in common was that they were all symbols that someone believed in.

Sakuya wasn't at all religious. Oh, she knew the gods existed, both the smaller ones that lived in Gensokyo and the bigger ones that ruled the cosmos. But she didn't pay them homage or fealty. As far as she was concerned, her heart and soul belonged to her mistress.

But she still knew the power of faith. Through it, the gods were sustained and allowed to work their miracles in return. Through it, thousands of hearts had been united and stood strong for hundreds of different causes, for good or ill. The universe was a funny thing. Given its sheer scope, the belief of a tiny, insignificant creature ought to matter as much as the trajectory of a handful of dust spinning in space. And yet, those handfuls of dust often became galaxies. And through those beliefs, mountains kept getting moved.

This was different though. While these symbols were obviously imbued with the power of faith, they were not being used for their intended purpose. Each article of faith was surrounded by a frame of twisted silver and copper set with onyx and carved with tiny symbols, ones of magic rather than religion. These, Sakuya recognized. The residual power of belief was being channeled, directed like water running downhill into a stream. And it was being directed to a point hovering in the exact center of the room.

There, a massive lavender crystal hovered. It was about the size of a full grown person and roughly oval shaped. Light from the symbols reflected as it slowly turned in midair, spinning like an egg in boiling water.

Sakuya's breath caught in her throat. While symbols of faith actually posed no real threat to vampires, would Yuuka know that? Had they found Flandre's prison already?

It seemed that Meiling was having similar thoughts. Lifting a hand over her brow to shield her eyes from the glare, she said to Patchouli, "Can you stop…whatever that is?"

"What is it?" Orin said, mystified. "I've never seen anything like it before!"

"A circle of sealing," Koakuma told her. "But a big one. Like, a biiiiiiiig one."

"Stop it?" Patchouli looked at Meiling with the same look she always gave her whenever the gatekeeper said something ignorant, which was often. "Are you insane? Do you see how many levels of sealing and enchantments there are? Just trying to disrupt one of them, I'd have to-"

Rolling her eyes, Koakuma stepped forward and kicked a pillar contained a glazed urn over. The urn fell to the ground and shattered. Then she took her spear and dragged it over the circles inscribed in the floor, breaking their power.

There was a shriek, and it seemed like the room itself shuddered with pain. The seal itself was a work of meticulous planning and balance. And it seemed that upsetting that balance set the whole thing falling to pieces. Pillars cracked and crumbled, strings snapped, and metal frames broke, causing all the symbols to slip and fall.

"You think too hard," Koakuma said. "It's a sealing circle. Tough to escape, but easy to break from the outside. You really just need to tip the whole thing over."

Sakuya was impressed, though she had to admit, though she was not a woman of faith, watching all those symbols fall didn't really sit right with her. Some survived, while others cracked and shattered. Those symbols had once meant something to someone, something deep and uplifting and, dare she think it, holy. She comforted herself with the knowledge that their original creators and the deities that they had been made to honor would probably rather wish them destroyed than have their power channeled into something perverse. Besides, they were a little short on time.

And it seemed to have done the trick. The crystal stopped rotating and crashed to the floor. Both it and the marble cracked upon impact.

"Flandre?" Meiling said, rushing forward. She shoved her fingers into the cracks and started pulling. "Are you in there? It's me, Meiling!"

"Now, hold on!" the big dog shouted. "You're not just gonna let that crazy vamp out like that! I lost me one hand already, don't really wanna have the rest of me torn off!"

And suddenly, Sakuya found herself agreeing, though not for the same reasons. Because she suddenly realized how familiar those lavender facets were, and where she had seen them before. With that came the horrible understanding that they hadn't found Flandre's prison at all.

"Meiling, wait!" she said. She rushed over and pulled the gatekeeper away from the crystal. "I don't think that's-"

The crystal exploded.

Shards flew every which way, causing those gathered to shy back and cover themselves. They pelted against the folds of Sakuya's cloak. Fortunately, her face had been turned away, else she might have received some nasty cuts as well.

Unfortunately, the glittering shrapnel wasn't the worst of it.

Before she could react, something leapt out of the crystal's shattered husk. Sakuya found herself seized by the neck and yanked off her feet. Her hand reflexively went for her pocketwatch, and though she found it, for some reason she was unable to push down on its activation button.

She was hauled into the air by a blur of color. When it stopped, she found herself dangling from the dome's epicenter. Clinging upside-down from it like a bat was a bizarre looking person. It didn't seem to be of any youkai, mortal, demon, or even extraterrestrial race she was familiar with, but did possess several traits she was able to identify. It had the wavy and pointed wings of a Nue and the thick, stripy tail of a Tanuki. Its brownish-black hair was short and stood up in a shock of spikes around its head, except where it hung in four long tails from four corners tied with a series of ribbons. It wore a floral-patterned robe over a long black shirt with a green spiral in corner and long pair of red pants held up with suspenders. Its skin was ashen pale, and its eyes were the color of garnets with tiny black pupils.

The creature had one hand around Sakuya's neck and the other shoved between Sakuya's fingers and the pocketwatch, preventing her from pressing down. Though it was hanging upside down, Sakuya was held upright, which meant their faces were inverted from one another. Judging from the look in its eyes, it was quite surprised to see the Lunarian maid, and had yet to figure out what to do with her.

But it did recognize her, of that Sakuya was certain. And though she had never seen this bizarre, mismatched creature before, there was no doubt as to who it could be.

There was something of a commotion taking place beneath them. Sakuya spared a downward glance to see Meiling, Koakuma, and a couple of the more level-headed pets preventing the others from firing upon the monster. Good for them. It would come through more-or-less intact, but the same couldn't be said for Sakuya herself. Though to be honest, even if she wasn't cut to pieces by well-meaning friendly fire, her chances of surviving the next few seconds weren't exactly high.

Patchouli, it should be noted, was neither trying to attack nor stopping the others from doing so. She just stood frozen stiff with fear and shock, her mouth hanging open. Like Sakuya, she knew exactly who they had freed, and was now terrified.

The creature glanced down (or up, as it would be from her position) and quickly scanned those on the ground. Catching sight of Patchouli, the frozen mask of its face then twisted in disgust, which was then directed back to Sakuya. Its upper lip curled, and Sakuya caught a glimpse of sharp, predatory fangs.

"Oh, so it's you assholes," Rin Satsuki sighed in four overlapping voices. She rolled her eyes and the chorus that was her voice united in the driest tone imaginable. "Joy."

…

Another year, another lengthy wait between chapters. This one was brought to you by suddenly finding myself in the middle of having to move to a different city back in February, and trying to pull it off mostly by myself with naught but by pickup truck while working six days out of the week on top of that. Needless to say, it wasn't fun.

Still, I got through it, and managed to get this up for the six-year anniversary. Though I should warn you that my internet situation is still sketchy, so any sort of communication or fixing mistakes is sort of questionable at this point.

Until next time, everyone.