She stared at the letters, willing them to vanish. If she focused enough energy into it, it was quite possible they might. But she was in no condition to concentrate as the first tear deserted her eye.

Before her laid the collection of his love letters to her, ranging from scribbles on post-it notes to their wedding vows. She picked up the most recent letter with trembling hands, forcing herself to read it again.

Dear Usako,

I'm sorry I could not deliver this letter to you myself, but with the war it would be incorrigible for me to demand an audience with the one person who is preventing this planet from being consumed by chaos.

I've loved you through the lifetimes, and I have no regrets. You have filled my soul with purpose and love that it would have otherwise never known. I am eternally grateful to you, and I know that someday we will be reunited. Please believe that.

I do not know if you will even survive to read this, but I wish you would not, if only to spare you the the inevitable pain. I can already feel myself fading, much as the others did. I am devoting my last few moments to writing you this letter, as I have spent the last few years protecting our daughter instead of aiding you as I longed to. Small Lady Serenity is still alive, and I have instructed her to seek refuge in the past, I can only hope things have not gotten this bad there as well. I will infuse my spirit with yours as your senshi have, until this hell ends...if it ever does.

Your strength is boundless, you will defeat this foe. Do not despair for us, we chose our path and that path has always been by your side.

I will always love you, Mamoru

The holographic letters blinked into nothingness as she braced herself on the wall, sobs bubbling up from her throat. Her knight had been the last to fall, but his demise was the greatest wound. Whriling in a flash of white fabric, she ran down the hallway towards the mausoleum. Her crown clattered to the floor as she ran, but she did not notice or care.

Arriving at her destination, she slowed to brace herself against the imminent tragedy. She caressed a pale hand over the crystalline prisons her friends were encased in, one by one. In the center of the room, in another such case, her husband's lifeless body lay.

Stepping towards it she closed her eyes against the sight. The royal lilac garments he wore were more vibrant than his skin, and his once luscious mane was limp and haggard. His eyes had large bags underneath them from years of tireless effort, but their color was hidden from her view. For a horrific moment, she knew that she might never see them again.

Wrapping her arms around the invisible barrier separating her soul from the oblivion of his, she wept.