Chapter 2: Dates With Destiny: At Last We Meet
Crystal Palace
Like most dates with Destiny, it was a long journey; one that, given their own choice, they would never undertake.
Zoisite felt more then a little uncomfortable, especially given that, like his counterparts, was dressed in his finest…..finest Dark Kingdom uniform, that is. Whether it was a sick, cruel joke, a symbol that not all was forgiven, that they didn't even remember their old Earth Kingdom uniforms-unlikely, given the many times they appeared before their lord over the years-or even if the uniforms were the only thing available, these were the clothes that were provided for upon their resurrection.
Their resurrection was actually a fascinating point of interest for Zoisite, and would serve to take his mind of this current conundrum. Apparently, the bio-engineers of the Royal Bureau for the Furthering of Scientific Study had genetically engineered four bodies based on their individual likeness, but kept at a completely dead yet preserved state; in other words, existing, but not alive. Obviously, this was done to avoid any ethical issues.
Afterwards, using his wife to supplement his already considerable power and a buffer so that awesome might wouldn't burn him out, King Endymion placed each of their stones on a corresponding body, and welded the soul-containing stone and fleshy bags together using his Golden Crystal. Apparently, the process took days, as they had been long dead, and technically, the bodies were only close genetic copies, not their real ones. Oh sure, physically he felt the same, but he knew underneath that this body hadn't been broken in magically yet, and that no matter his experience and knowledge, Zoisite doubted that he could even match his Dark Kingdom self, let alone…..
There, see, he just defeated the purpose of thinking about something else. Zoisite sighed and pulled on his braid.
Goddamn ass-holes putting me through this shit with freaky 'raising from the dead' stuff, it's like one of those movies Endy took us to see all those years ago.
As Nephrite walked on, he too, was uncomfortable in his current attire. So, being Nephrite, there was only one logical course of action.
Vent.
This is his way of getting back at me because I cheated on that stupid Chinese checkers game Jadeite brought over when we were 12, I just know it. Geeze, you'd think that someone would get over something like that after…how many eons has it been?... And a reincarnation to boot…oh no, not reincarnations.
Like Zoisite and the rest of his companions, Nephrite had been told the details about his resurrection. In fact, Nephrite out-right demanded and almost threatened when he learned that the King was resting from his 'straining ordeal,' and he would not be satisfied until he learned that the king was in no danger save falling asleep on his feet, and he heard the entire process. Afterwards, he wished he would have been content with just the 'only in danger of falling asleep,' bit.
"Let me get this straight," he calmly stated, "You guys…made…these bodies…completely ignoring any potential complications or nefarious uses for this process, kept them-for all practical purposes- dead, until Endy pushed our souls into them, and then you force fed us until we were-and he was- healthy enough to take us out of our comas?"
"Crudely put, but correct in essentials," the accosted chamberlain disdainfully replied, too shocked at Nephrite's familiarity with the King to address it.
"Huh," Nephrite grunted nonchalantly, as if mulling over the weather.
For the next hour, he was behind a closed restroom door, and any who approached were immediately discouraged by the hurling sounds coming from within.
Creepy, creepy, creepy; the whole thing is creepy no matter which way you look at it.
From now on, Nephrite would tell himself that Endy magically pulled bodies out of thin air, or better yet, they were formed from their stones. Yes, that worked awesome. It was better then…being in some other not-quite-a-guy's body, anyway. That whole concept was just wrong, and made him feel more then a little dirty.
As Jadeite walked shoulder to shoulder with his companions, he too was in deep thought over their attire. However, unlike Zoisite who tried to distract himself, or Nephrite who just ranted at any possible reason and then went off on an unrelated tangent, Jadeite methodically went over each and every possibility, and came to a logical conclusion.
There's no way that this wasn't done on purpose; Endymion knows what our old attires looked like, and there are apparently newer palace uniforms, or even armor to choose from. Ergo, they deliberately chose these…abominations. They even got the damn coloring right.
This has done nothing but make each and every one of us uncomfortable and off-balance. All four of us are in an agitated state, and prone to make slips that we otherwise wouldn't make.
So, this was done on purpose, with the only result, and in fact probably the expected one, being that we are off-balance. Therefore, their Majesties can only want one thing;
Answers.
Jadeite smirked, both in self-congratulation and at Endymion's and Serenity's naïveté. Perhaps there was more to the equation, but with the variables given, this was the most likely result.
Very well, if they wanted answers, then he'll give them the answers. He certainly had enough strength to do that much….
Kunzite was always unique among his comrades.
Unique in hair coloring, unique in height, unique in the fact that he had a cape, unique that his uniform was regularly undone when off-duty; now was no exception.
He alone thought nothing of his current attire. Whether his uniform was Dark Kingdom or Earth Kingdom, or Crystal Tokyo, or even if he was stark naked, it didn't change who he was.
He was Kunzite, leader of the Shitennou, First General of the Mark, Captain of the King's Guard, Administrator of the Middle East, and member of the Royal Companions.
Oh, he couldn't deny that he suspected the insinuations behind it, anymore then he could deny that those insinuations hurt; he wasn't too crazy about the sordid details of their resurrection either.
But that was not his concern; after the actions he had done, whether willingly or not, he could stand to have his feelings abused. After all, that was what the Sphere was for, and these subtle insults-if indeed that was what they were-were the least he deserved.
Right now his main concern was to first, integrate himself into palace security, and then get back into fighting shape; this body, while athletically built, would barely be able to handle his regular swordsmanship, let alone any of his mystic talents. He saw the doors to the throne room up ahead, and took a deep breath.
Here we go…
Tokyo Tower
Outside the castle, on top of Tokyo Tower, Zetsubou stood at attention, his black trench coat fluttering in the wind. Pushing his sunglasses up his nose, he reached out with his mind, scanning the presence of each and every individual in the city; he carefully avoided the palace, and kept his 'feeling' at a bare minimum, a mere touch to confirm who it wasn't rather then waste time with who it was. After all, there were three people living in the palace who were extremely sensitive to any magical activity relating to the mind, with a possible fourth now that the Resurrection had been completed.
At that thought, his eyes widened with the reflex response of suddenly finding something you were searching for half-hazardly while thinking of something else.
Master
The only reason you should be bothering me, Zetsubou, is to either tell me that 'they' have finally arrived, or to start begging for your life because they are not coming.
Don't worry, my Master; we've known that they'd come for years. Besides, they're here right now.
Church of Serenity
Like most dates with Destiny, it had been a long journey; like any journey, as desirable as the destination was, much was gained along the way.
"Soon we will stop by the Church of Serenity; contrary to popular belief, it is not a new cult surrounding the worship of the new monarchs, but a congregation of faiths, united in the belief that the Queen and King of the Crystal Kingdom are a Heavenly-and in some faiths, Divinely- inspired couple sent to bring us to a new period of enlightenment."
You have no idea how true that is, a lone figure half smirked in the shadows.
One look was all that was necessary to tell what faith this man represented, his Native-American features giving him away completely; he was vision-seeker for the Sioux tribe plains.
He was an elderly individual; strong, black hair had long since given in to iron grey. His face contained many wrinkles, half of which were due to knowledge attained rather then age. Clear, brown eyes seemed to catch everything as he glanced about, and he moved with a grace that betrayed the sinews of his arms. He was dressed in the ceremonial robes of his station, as were everyone else on this 'Great Pilgrimage of Faiths'. A dream-catcher was tied around his waist, and a wooden weave around his neck. He decided to neglect the head-dress, simply because it drew a few more stares then he was willing to endure.
"Yo, Ohanzee!!!"
The vision seeker gave an exacerbated smile; it was one of the few people he had been able to connect with on this 'Pilgrimage,' and a less likely combination you were never to come across, given the respective personalities. Ohanzee was obviously elderly, as well as somewhat quiet and reserved, whereas Father Michael…..
"We're finally here!! Weeks and weeks of going about the world in the single most roundabout way are over!! Finally we get to…arughfttt!!!"
….was an excitable klutz, possessing an energy that could only come from youth.
Sighing, Ohanzee bent over and pro-offered a hand. "Yes, Michael, we're finally here; now stop running around, or you'll trip over those ridiculous robes of yours."
"You're one to talk," laughed Michael, taking up the offered hand and allowing himself to be pulled up.
"So when we get off this crazy bus, how's about you and I hit some of the non-alcoholic bars and catch Italy beating the pants off of Spain?"
Ohanzee's eyes widened; it was all he could do not to laugh at his young friend's expense.
"You think Italy has a prayer? 'The triumph of hope over experience,' indeed."
"Oh ye of little faith," Michael quipped.
Ohanzee suddenly grew more serious, "Fun as that would be, Michael, I have an appointment to keep with an old acquaintance. I'll catch up with you tomorrow."
Michael frowned, "'Old acquaintance?' I thought you said you didn't know anyone from Crystal Tokyo?"
Crap; think fast Ohanzee.
"He isn't; he recently contacted me and told me he was moving to Crystal Tokyo. I was actually a little shocked; it had been over 100 years since I last saw him."
Not for the first time, Ohanzee was grateful that he accepted the gifts of the Silver and Golden Crystals; in exchange for a lower birth-rate, humans who accepted were granted greater health and longer lives. On a bus full of religious and spiritual leaders (all of whom had been trained to see through deceptions and falsehoods), it made lying about this particular subject a lot easier; after all, technically it was the truth.
"Ah. Well, don't let me get in the way of seeing your friend. But remember, loser buys winner breakfast tomorrow."
"In that case, you best check your wallet; I'd like eggs over-easy and fresh bacon please."
"Hardy-hardy-har-har."
Smiling, Ohanzee left his young friend and leapt out of the bus. Taking a moment to get his bearings, he walked with purpose towards Tokyo Tower.
City Square
Like most dates with Destiny, it had been a long journey; however, it wasn't exactly a boring one.
"That's riggggggggghtttttttttttt, ladies and gentlemen!! The Three-Ring Circus will be in town for three months! That's right, miss, you heard me correctly; one month for every ring! You'll see wonders such as you've never seen before! The three-nosed elephant, the bearded lady, the clowns on parade, the chimera wolf-lions! And of course, our star attraction; that Man of Mystery, that Pioneer of Puppeteer-ing, that Illuminator of Illusions, the one, the only….MARIONETTE!!!"
Pointing towards the center stage from his raised podium, the ringmaster's grandiose tone could only be the signal for something that was captivating; it was.
Despite being in the middle of the town, in the middle of day, on a makeshift stage, everything seemed to go dark. Small children clung to their mothers, and everyone else eyed the stage warily; after all, it wasn't as if this would be the first time something strange and dangerous happened in Tokyo, Crystal or not.
Smoke began to rise from the crevices of the stage, and gathered about the center in a twisting column. As it built up about two meters, a pair of gloved arms popped out of both sides; they were held as if they were trying to cup something. Then a burst of fireworks temporarily blinded the now-sizable audience, almost preventing them from seeing a clearly humanoid figure shoot out of the smoke, twirl in the air, and land perfectly on its feet, right in the hands of a statue of Neo-Queen Serenity…..twenty feet in the air.
The prevailing darkness suddenly receded, revealing a most peculiar sight, of a most peculiar man, wearing the most peculiar clothing.
This strange man wore a long sleeve shirt with over-sized sleeves, and a pair of slacks with over-sized pant-legs. The shirt was an unusual dark shade of blue on the right, and dirt brown on the left. Both tucked into a pair of gloves that stopped four inches above the elbow; the blue sleeve into a dirt brown glove, the brow into a dark blue one. The pants went a similar route, with the brown being on the right and the blue on the left. Like the shirt, the pants tucked into its appendages accessories in its boots, which followed the same pattern as the gloves and were half an inch short of being womanly.
Completely clashing with this already unusual outfit was a quilt-cape made entirely of square patches, each patch a random different shade of color, the outside completely different from the inside. On anyone else, it would have been hard on the eyes, but on this man it seemed to shimmer, looking almost like a rainbow. On his head was a tall, almost witch-like hat which hid his dark, shoulder length locks; it looked as if it couldn't make up its mind whether it wanted to be a blue hat with dirt brown stripes or a dirt brown hat with blue stripes. But the most peculiar thing of all was the mask that completely hid his face, even his ears.
This mask resembled the smiling and frowning masks seen on the curtains and promos of classic 20th Century Western theater. Resembled, because it included both; the right half of the mask was a smiling white, the left a frowning black.
The audience gaped at this rather foppish individual, who had just displayed an athleticism that counteracted his rather foolish character.
Then it started.
At first it was a small, polite applause, and then it grew louder, and louder, and louder still, until it became unabashed and wild cheering.
The entertainer, Marionette, gave a flamboyant bow at the waist, before taking out three pool-sized balls, and began to juggle for a while. The cheering pattered off at this display of rather common skill, when suddenly he grabbed all three in both hands, brought them down violently at his feet; another explosive burst diverted the audiences eyes, and suddenly he was in the middle of them, receiving yet another burst of applause. Bowing his head, Marionette held up his hand, indicating that he wished for silence.
As a ring slowly formed around him, he suddenly began to make an awkward dance with wild arm and leg movements, a strange clack-clacking sound coming from his body. Suddenly he began to back up, all the while doing his strange dance to the people's confusion; nobody could keep their balance while doing that weird dance, and even the ringmaster from his podium looked confused.
Marionette drew gasps as he seemed to float in mid-air, when a black-cloaked man pointed and cried out, "Look, look! He's attached to strings!"
Sure enough, if one squinted, they could see the stings attached to Marionette; realization began to set in that Marionette was actually, himself, a marionette. The puppet suddenly fell to pieces, and the puppeteer himself sprang out of the stage's back currents, arms raised in victory, before removing his hat and bowing at the waist again.
The audience sat in completely stunned stillness for moment; not one person stirred, all gaping at the performer who had just done the impossible right before their eyes.
Then the black-cloaked man let out a whoop, and that broke the audience out of their spell of silence. The cheers were at their loudest yet, to the point of deafening all other noises.
The ringmaster shook off his own shock, and jumped down from his raised platform, pulling a rope and hiding Marionette behind the front currents.
"There he was, ladies and gentleman, the Amazing Marionette! For the next three months, starting this Saturday every Saturday you can see him and other wonders at the Three-Ring Circus! Pay for your tickets at the door, first come, first served! Children 50 and under get in for half-price! Come one, come all!"
Disappearing behind the current himself, the ringmaster turned around to see Marionette, still bowed at the waist.
"Hey, M, the curtain is down and the crowd's gone, you can get up now…M?"
The now suspicious ringmaster approached the unresponsive figure, and tapped him on the head…only for the hat and hair to fall completely off, revealing a wooden head.
"Damnit, gone again; how the hell does he do that?!"
Walking away from the stage and the now irate-ringmaster, the dark-cloaked man from before began walking purposely towards Tokyo Tower, head bowed so none might question him about his rather peculiar mask…..
Crystal Tokyo Airport
Like most dates with Destiny, it had been a long journey, which meant that there was plenty of time to prepare; and prepare he did.
"Ambassador Vlad'ar, we've landed."
The addressed individual turned towards the bearded man wearing a dark uniform, staring just above his employer, never directly at him.
"Hmm? Oh, thank you, Jerald," Vlad'ar replied as he stood up.
As always when looking at his patron, Jerald had to swallow and consciously prevent himself from gasping.
At least he's trying to hide his shock, Vlad'ar thought with bitter amusement. After all, he could admit to himself that he wasn't exactly a sight for the weak of heart, to say nothing of stomachs.
From head to toe, his skin was a light blue, an oddity in and of itself; however, if one were to look long enough, they could see the shifting of muscles, ligaments and bones underneath the skin, and if one was close enough, they could actually see them.
Close to the surface of the skin and visible from any distance, multiple small black cables entwined his body from where is head met his neck down to his ankles and wrists. It took little in the way of imagination to realize these cables had replaced his veins and arteries.
On the top of arms, a pair of gold bands outlining the shape of diamonds started on the back of both hands. Each diamond surrounded a circular gem of a unique color; on the right hand was a red and orange-brown gem, the left a yellow and blue. A similar diamond with a white gem was kept on the back of his neck, but this was hidden by his long, thick, dark green hair. A dark green mustache and goatee gave him an almost vampiric face, especially when coupled with his pointed ears and equally pointed canines.
In short, Vlad'ar looked dangerous, disturbing, and unapproachable.
It was a very good thing that the good Neo-King Endymion brought tuxedoes back into style, complete with top hats, capes and gloves, otherwise Vlad'ar would never have been able to wear enough clothes to suitably cover up his unusual appearance without looking tacky.
As he began to slip his own white gloves on, he turned back towards the head of his bodyguard, his sour humor springing up again. "Have we informed Andorra and our hosts that we've arrived for the meeting?"
Jerald's attention was immediately brought back to the present; in 250 years he had seen a lot, and with 150 years of experience in combat and guarding, it didn't take much to hide his personal discomfort and plow on like a good soldier.
"Sir, we've sent word to the Principality, and have yet to receive a reply. The Neo-Crystal government has sent us the standard diplomatic greeting, and directed us to the Lunaria Hotel, which was previously established as our place of residence while in Japan. The Court apologizes that they will not be able to meet with us today as planned, as their Majesties were unexpectedly busy today,"
Yes, Vlad'ar mentally smirked; they would be, wouldn't they?
"…and assurances were sent to us that they would meet with us first thing tomorrow morning."
"See to it that everyone gets settled in, Jerald; I'm going for a walk. Alone."
"Sir, with all due respect, I can't let you walk out there by yourself; as the head of your security…."
"I'll be fine, Jerald; I'm more then capable of taking care of myself, and this place is advertised as a paradise, is it not- what safer place could I possibly be, Jerald?"
When his bodyguard fixed him with a hard stare, Vlad'ar sighed, "Oh alright, Jerald, I'll take my beacon, and I promise at the first sighting of anyone remotely suspicious, I'll press the little red button; are you happy?"
"Ecstatic, sir," Jerald wryly quipped.
"Good," Vlad'ar said as he grabbed his cane in his right hand and his top hat in his left, "Then if there is nothing else, I'll be off."
"Were will you be going, sir,"" Jerald asked, internally contemplating whether or not to send someone after the ambassador regardless of his wishes and interests.
Vlad'ar turned and fixed him with a smiling stare, causing Jerald to visibly gulp; if Jerald didn't know any better, he'd have sworn that smile was filled with bloodlust.
"I've always wanted to see Tokyo Tower…."
Southern Gate
Like most dates with Destiny, it had been a long journey; frankly, he was sick and damn tired of waiting.
As the single man methodically approached the city gates, he looked up at the giant crystal walls that prevented illegal trafficking of goods and people.
If looks could provide as much physical damage as they could emotional, the walls, gates, and perhaps the entire city would have been engulfed in the flames of the man's eyes.
Never stopping in his walk, he didn't notice the two guards until they slammed their spears together, effectively blocking his path.
To his credit, the man didn't even blink.
"Hey you, can't you read? This is an exit only, and it's closed for the day," one of the guards snarled. To be perfectly honest, the two were normally not this snippy, but there was something about this man that just put them off.
Perhaps it was the fact that the man was obviously a foreigner by his Mid-Eastern complexion; even today there was still a lingering of xenophobia among Japan's natives. However, there were foreigners coming in and out all the time, and this was hardly the first time these two guards were approached at this hour, whether by native or foreigner.
Perhaps it was his short, unruly white hair; save for the Lady Ami, the young Princess, and the Queen herself everyone had a natural hair color, and it was frankly disturbing to see white hair. However, there could be multiple explanations for such; it could have been some sort of accident, or bleach, or even simply a very light shade of blonde. Even if his hair was natural, so what; it wasn't as if that was a crime by any stretch of the imagination.
Perhaps it was the way the man dressed, which was certainly suspicious. The upper half of the outfit was a high-collared, long-sleeve shirt, a series of three buttons on the end of each sleeve. The front of the shirt ended at the waist, but the back of it went further down to his ankles, almost like a cape. Starting from the chest, navy blue stripe went down towards his navel, where it branched off down to the outside of his slacks. The stripe also branched off at a slant at the chest, traveling up towards and down his shoulders, until it ended in a ring right above the cuff links. This pattern was mirrored on his back as well, making the stripes come off at points at his hips and shoulders. His shoes were a lace-less boot, covered by his slacks. Save for the stripes, the entire outfit was a deep grey.
A very strange and unusual outfit; but then, this was Crystal Tokyo, and with the many masked balls they had yearly, the only way you wouldn't have seen stranger outfits was if you were blind. Heck, some might call their own uniforms a little odd, seeing as how they comprised of a long sleeve black shirt underneath a white, vest-like armor with the circular half-sun, half-moon crest of Crystal Tokyo etched very largely in silver on the front, culminating in a long, ice blue gown to cover up their armored legs and boots (the color of the gown signified which of the Senshi's unit he or she belonged to; these two happened to belong to Sailor Mercury's) and finalized with a visored helmet that came off into a slanted point. So no, it wasn't the outfit either.
The eyes; yes, it was definitely those lavender eyes. The way they moved, the way they glared at everything and anything, the way they took the man's surroundings in, and seemed to process how long it would take to completely destroy them; the light that reflected from his glasses didn't help matters either.
Yes, this man was evil, or at least had evil intentions, and was to be detained no matter what.
It wasn't until he looked at them and fixed them with a glare to make Satan himself quiver in his boots that they realized this man was also dangerous.
Bringing their spears blue-energy blades closer to bear, they addressed the man again.
"B-bastard, who the hell are you?" one of the guards rasped. The other gave a, 'tch,' as he slowly backed towards the alarm.
"Nekome," the man replied. He turned his attention towards the slowly yet purposefully retreating guard, ignoring the other's spear which was now so close to his neck it gave a fine cut, blood slowly dripping out the end.
"No need for that, guardian; the explosion will draw your companions to this area soon enough."
"Explosion, what explo..." the guard's words were cut off as he noticed a faint blue aura surrounding the man called Nekome, as the aura grew larger and stronger, both guards' eyes widened behind their visors, but neither had the time to scream….
Tokyo Tower
"I don't know whether to be upset at Nekome for not listening to me when I told him to enter the city discreetly, or be happy that, for him, that was discreet," Zetsubou sighed.
You can not get either mad or happy, fool!! What of the barrier!? If that twit tires himself out before he arrives it will be impossible to….
"Impossible, Master," Zetsubou called out, consciously aware that he was speaking out loud as opposed to merely sending her his thoughts, "Of all our allies-to-be, Nekome is both the strongest-now that he has entered this city-and the most passionate. The very nature of his powers makes him more in danger of burning himself out then exhausting himself, and his passion will remind him of this, causing him to come to us as quickly as possible."
All well and good, but what about that explosion he recklessly caused? If one of the guards strikes up the alarm and brings out the Senshi, or worse, the Neo-Queen and King, then all our planning will be for nothing!
"Again, that is impossible, Master. The diameter of Crystal Tokyo is so huge, we can't even see the smoke from this vantage point, and we're right smack dab in the center. Besides, even if the alarm was raised, by the time the guards realized it is a threat that only the Senshi or their own Elite can properly deal with, Nekome will be here already, and the barrier would soon follow."
Hurry, Nekome; after all, you are hardly the only one who has been waiting a long, long time.
With that ending thought, Zetsubou's thoughts went back towards the three approaching men.
Crystal Palace
Mamoru and Usagi sat in their throne room, on top of the two diamond thrones, the light reflecting about and being focused by them, giving both thrones a rainbow appearance. The Neo-king had long since placed aside his ceremonial mask, and he liberally rubbed his eye lids, only to stop and indignantly glance at his giggling wife.
"What?"
"Have I ever told you how adorable you are when you pout and get all angst-ish?"
"Wha-, how, who….I am so confused."
"Of course you are, silly," Usagi said as she ruffled his hair, "That's why I'm here."
"The most reassuring thing I've heard all day," he drawled.
Usagi lightly punched him in the arm, taking no offense. She knew that it was a joke, and besides, whatever his tone, the words were all to true.
It was then the door opened, instigating Mamoru to stand up on his dais.
He mentally winced as he felt their conflicting emotions, many of which steaming from their dress.
It had to be done, he thought, Pluto…
They entered the room, and as they approached the throne room, he thought about nothing else.
They walked, side by side, purposefully, nobly, until they approached the steps. They stopped, staring up at the royal figures, and one in particular. Mamoru stared back, smiling down at each of them. He turned first to the man furthest to his left, each face bringing with it fragmented memories of a time long since past, something beyond the realm of recall yet something that should never be forgotten.
"Jadeite…."
Two boys of barely eight and nine respectively ran across the field at top speed, just ahead of a ghostly apparition. It seemed, however, that their fright was not of seeing a transparent, pale-white figure chasing after them, but of what said transparent, pale-white figure was saying.
"Prince Endymion! Jadeite-dono! Get back here this instant! It's time for your history lesson!!"
…What, you were expecting something more along the lines of, 'boo?'
"Is she catching up?" gasped out the younger Prince.
"Don't know," the almost-equally winded Jadeite replied, "Too scared to look back and check."
Anyone who was bothered by the spectacle need only glance once before knowing enough to just sigh and go back to work.
Yep, there was no doubt; Endymion and Jadeite were skipping lessons…again…for the third time…this morning…
It was only the twelfth turn of the Time-Glass, too.
"She's catching up," cried out Endymion as he glanced over his shoulder.
"Doesn't matter," Jadeite called back, still not giving into temptation and looking over his shoulder.
"You have a plan?" Endymion answered hopefully.
"Yeah, it's called, 'run faster then you.'"
"That's a good…Hey!!! J-Jerk, this was your idea!!"
"Ergo, if only one person can reap the benefits, it should be me, don't you think?"
Soon in their running, they came up across a stone wall, barely up to the waist of a man; to the young lads not even in their adolescence, it might as well have been the Tower of Babel.
"Dead end," the Prince cried out in despair.
Jadeite didn't bother to reply, merely glared ahead at the obstructing construct. Reaching deep into his reserves, Jadeite put on an extra burst of speed and, with a roar, charged at the wall. Upon reaching it, he placed his back upon it and cupped his hands.
The two escaping 'prisoners' glanced at each other and, with a nod, put the makeshift plan into action.
Endymion ran up to his friend, and without stopping, placed his foot on the offered hands. Jadeite helped launch the now-seven-year-old-cannonball over the wall. Endymion, meanwhile, twisted in mid-air, undid his small cape and hung it down for Jadeite to catch, who with a combination of leaping and using the other boy's momentum, made it over the wall as well.
So stunned by the success of this impromptu-teamwork the phantom-teacher stood still in awe for only a second.
That second was all they needed.
By the time she got her wits about her, the young lords were blazing across the grassland, ready to avoid another lesson by waltzing in the fields, consequences be damned.
"Nephrite…."
"Why did you have to go, Neph? Jadeite, Zoisite, even Kunzite already left! I don't want to be alone!"
"Damnit, Endy, would you quit whining for five minutes?! Five minutes, that's all I ever ask, just five damn minutes, but nooooooooooooooo, you have to go on an on about how you'll be all alone! You're fifteen years old now, and it's only three years, just three damn years!"
Here Nephrite's voice took an almost dreamlike quality, "Three years without having to look out for you and Zoisite, three years of not having to put up with Jadeite's mouth, three years of that stick in the mud not showing me up; oh the glorious days ahead of me."
He turned towards Endymion again, who was standing in the doorway, arms crossed, and face pouting, making him looking very much like he was five. Nephrite scoffed.
"'Alone,' do you want me to tell you how stupid that sounds? What are your parents, rice balls?"
"No, just busy," the younger man retorted, sticking his tongue out for good effect.
Nephrite rolled his eyes and went back to packing.
"You know that it is tradition; when their powers emerge, the Shitennou, avatars of the Four Sacred Beasts, would journey towards their homelands to learn from those who can instruct them. Whereas you must remain here, and learn how to be real royalty, way to busy to be bored; after all, you have to learn how to give orders, become accustomed to having your own way, making senseless demands, behave like a brat…on second thought, you just might be bored out of your min.."
He stopped in mid-fold as he began to hear sniffling. He sighed and turned towards Endymion, whose head was bowed down trying to hide the coming tears.
"Everyone's leaving, and I'll be here all alone."
Nephrite simply eyed Endymion up and down, before sighing and walking up to Endymion, putting a hand on the young prince's shoulder.
"Idiot," Nephrite said, though none of the previous venom or sarcasm was present, "You can't go through your life depending on others so completely that if they're absent, you break down."
Endymion stared for a minute, before he gave a snort.
Nephrite looked confused. "Did I miss something?"
"No, no, it's just that, that sounded more like something Jadeite would say then you."
Nephrite merely raised his eyebrows before playfully slapping Endymion's cheek. "Look I promise that I'll try and send a letter at least once a month; no guarantees, though."
"Really," a hopeful wide-eyed Endymion looked up at him, before throwing his arms around the now-shocked boy.
"Really," Nephrite replied with a squirm, "Now get the hell out of my room; you've been here a while, and they're rumors aplenty about the five of us already."
"Zoisite…"
"I'm telling you Zoi, I saw her; your move."
"Endymion, are you at all aware how that sounds?" Zoisite ventured, advancing his rook.
'Improbable?" Endymion somewhat sheepishly admitted, as he looked at the board in confusion. He then made a somewhat confident move forward with a knight.
"'Improbable,' doesn't even begin to cover it," Zoisite admonished while casually moving a pawn up the board, more interested in this conversation, " What you are suggesting is that someone managed to get to the Earth's core, bypass the dimensional rift that leads to here, penetrate Elysion's defenses, and avoid Kunzite's meticulously and methodically placed security measures and simply walked in the forest, someone who by your description clearly wasn't the Memory of a deceased human that temporarily populate the Golden Kingdom; since it was a young woman by your accounts, we can clearly rule out your parents and us. That leaves…no one."
"I suppose that is a little far-fetched, even for a place with ghosts."
"For the last time, Endymion," Zoisite said with an exacerbated sigh, "They are NOT ghosts; the people who populate Elysion are the memories of those who have already passed on, whether to Heaven, Hell, or Rebirth, and in fact are the manifestation of their most powerful memory, no matter what it is: love, hate, friends, loyalty, or whatever. The more powerful the memory, the longer they remain and the more contact they are able to have in the real world, though they are completely tangible here. In fact, they are what many people call the 'spirits' of the Earth; some of them merge with the Memories of animals, accounting for some of the stranger Memory sightings we've seen. Among their various 'uses'…"
"… 'Are summonings, possessions, and necromancy, the last two are illegal, and the first requires special permission, as all three are considered an injustice to the dead,'" Endymion went on in a bored tone, " To quote Nephrite, 'Whatever, sounds like a ghost to me.' I swear, the only thing that's wrong with you, Zoisite, is that you aren't an old man." He briefly considered moving his queen before deciding to move his knight again.
For his part, Zoisite had the good grace to look embarrassed. "Okay, so I tend to ramble and quibble over fine points, but my point still stands; your, 'mystery girl,' was just a figment of your imagination; nothing more."
"Yeah, but…" Endymion slumped forward, cupping his head in his hands, "I can't help but think I'll really saw her and that I'll see her again…"
Zoisite looked at his slightly younger friend and soon-to-be-liege lord in slight concern. "Endymion…are you alright?"
"Hmm? Oh, I'm fine, Zoi; your move."
Zoisite looked at the board for less then a second before brightening up; with a smile that had all the innocence of the child he no longer was and none of the smugness of the victor who completely outclassed his opponent that he had become, Zoisite moved his bishop half-way across the board.
"Checkmate!" He cried out happily.
Endymion's eyes widened, his mouth dropped. Looking up at the beaming Zoisite, he said pretty much the only thing a guy could say in this situation.
"I hate you."
"Kunzite…"
It was a special place, one that only they knew. Neither had told anyone else about its location.
Not any of the Memories.
Not his parents.
Not even Jadeite, Nephrite, or Zoisite.
He hadn't even told Serenity.
No, here was a sacred place, one where only the two of them could enter, and no one else.
Here, in the Waterfall Under the Mountain, they stood, facing each other, naked from the waist up, each holding a blade in his hands. Kunzite exchanged his ceremonial short blade for the two-handed scimitar of his homeland that vaguely resembled a katana; he the broadsword of his fore-fathers.
Here they had their eyes closed, gazing into blackness in personal reflection as the waterfall's mist pelted their flesh.
In minutes, they would break out of their meditations and clash weapons, safe from the prying eyes of those who would try and say that they were taking it too far.
After that, Endymion thought with the conviction of one who had put something off for far too long, I'll tell him after this bit of normalcy.
Today would be a very important day; a day whose deeds would have consequences that would span millennia.
Today would be the day he told Kunzite of his plan to heal the rift between the Golden Kingdom and the Silver Alliance once and for all.
It would be risky, Endymion knew, and Kunzite had expressed his own views on the matter time and time again; frolicking with the Princess was one thing, negotiating without the approval of the Great Nations quite another; with the decline of the Endymion's father's health before Endymion himself was of age, the Golden Kingdom was little more then a shadow of it's former role to 'Protect the Earth from Within.' The Great Nations had assumed a level of control that had only been matched few times before, and they would not appreciate their toes being stepped on, especially if it is perceived as being for the benefit of those they hated and were hated by with a passion.
While such situations had certainly arisen in the past-with disastrous results for each one-Endymion's position was not stable, not while his father was still able to draw breath. So long as there was someone else the leaders of the Great Nations could point to and say, "Here is our true leader," Endymion's position as heir-apparent and regent meant nothing.
Besides, Kunzite had his own privately-kept suspicions about the Lunarians, reasons that would no doubt be vocalized after this plot was revealed.
However, Kunzite, in one way or another, spoke for the entire Shitennou, and it would be through them Endymion would try to convince his world of the folly of their hatred towards the Moon race.
It would be difficult to convince Kunzite, but convinced he must be, for the sake of peace.
That would be later, though. That was something that belonged to the future; as Jadeite once said, "Let the future belong to the future, the past belong to the past, and the present belong to all."
Endymion opened his eyes and stared ahead at Kunzite, who had awoken from his trance earlier. Both men's stoic look never changed.
They spread their legs into a fighting stance; Endymion brought his sword parallel to his face pointing up, Kunzite lowered his sword until it was by his side, cupping his hands so that he could slash his sword at lightening quick speed.
"Something's bothering you, my Prince."
"I'll tell you when we're finished, Kunzite."
The other man nodded in reply.
This was now, this was their time, and Heaven help any who disturbed them.
A fish flopped out of the water, and they lunged…
Mamoru looked down on each one, unshed tears in his eyes. With a smile that embraced them all, he forgot his pompous speech that Usagi insisted he prepare and simply said what was in his heart.
"Welcome back."
South Gate Garrison
For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.
To counter the previous scene of loving familiarity, a scene of unheard of carnage must take place.
It did.
"You bastard; stop right there!!"
Nekome halted, but not because of the words; within seconds he was surrounded by blue-skirted soldiers, all of them with spears. Nekome paid them no heed, and was instead fascinated with the palm of his right hand.
"You have a lot of gall, invader."
Two of the spearman parted ranks, and a man with shoulder-length blonde hair walked out. The man carried himself with authority, and it was plain to see from the deference the spearmen paid him, his decorative white headband in place of a helmet, and a pair of pointed shoulder pads on his white chest plate that he was the man in charge. He carried no spear, but a long, metallic stick was strapped to his side, and his right hand never strayed from it.
"You break open Their Majesties' gate, killed my subordinates, our comrades, threaten to spread discord in this peaceful city at the expense of the people, trample our pride, and worst of all, have the brass to think that you'd actually get away with it. Well, you advance no further, my foolish friend." With that he waved his left arm at Nekome, "Take him-…"
"Amazing," Nekome interrupted with a wonder-filled voice. The Captain and his men looked on in puzzlement as the entranced invader went on, "Simply amazing. He told me that the change would be dramatic, logically I knew I'd get at least a little stronger, but this…" His awed face now took a demon-like grin, and he clenched his hand into a tightly held fist. "With this much power, I have the strength to crush that bastard, and any who stand in my way."
The captain, who had by this time taken the metal prop into his hand, was listening to this rambling tirade with confusion, but the end of that last sentence, at least, was clear enough.
"My my, it seems we're being underestimated," He said as he grabbed the object with both hands and held it before him. The portion of the item above his hands split into a 'V', and an ice-blue energy-blade jettisoned out.
"We are the proud soldiers of their Majesties' Mercurian Division, Third Squad; Caris Trent, the greatest of the Elite, was my swordsmaster," he declared with great pride, noting his subordinates now assuming combat positions. "Don't take the soldiers of Captain Kyuzo lightly," he went on, his voice now dangerously low.
Nekome glanced up, as if noticing the group for the first time. "What, you're finally here? What took you all so long?"
That was the last straw. "Get him!!"
With a cry, the soldiers charged down on Nekome, their spears at the ready. For his part, Nekome simply turned to the fastest bunch, and held his body so the shoulders were parallel to the direction he was facing. Spreading his legs out, he held up his right arm, holding his hand as if it were grasping something. He then took his left hand and placed it at his right's wrist, then drew it back to his right shoulder as if he was supporting something between his index finger and thumb.
"What's with that stupid stance?" A number of the soldiers jeered, "You can't defend yourself like that!"
"I'll avenge our comrades' deaths!" Another shouted, and lunged with his spear.
For his part, Kyuzo was more wary then insulted by this strange stance; he knew something was up. "Idiot; run away!!"
Nekome separated his index and thumb. In the next instant, the charging soldier had a sizable hole in his chest, wide enough for a child of ten to crawl through. Not that a child of ten would want to; what little of his innards hadn't been vaporized or seared shut were splattered on the ground slightly ahead and behind him. For a brief instant, he tried to breathe through lungs that were no longer there, and then collapsed dead.
Nekome, the only one unfazed by this action, simply smirked and, with closed eyes, begin to repeat his strange stance.
Soldiers began to burst like fireworks, with blood replacing sparks, and screams instead of explosions.
Kyuzo was frozen in place, a look of worry that was in danger of becoming terror etched in his features as, one by one, his men were blown apart.
Wha- What is this guy? He focused his eyes, forcing himself to analyze this strange technique. The destruction only occurs after the fingers separate, with a slight delay in between. Psyonic blasts? Rather then give it physical manifestation, he directly focuses his mental energy along his arm in the direction it is facing, and then releases it with his other. It is potentially stronger then magic given form by elements, emotions and summons, and a lot more direct. However, it has a distinct weakness; it requires a great deal more concentration then, 'normal' magic; the slightest distraction would briefly render him helpless.
When Nekome turned to him, Kyuzo was ready.
Nekome released his fingers, and Kyuzo dodged; the wall behind him suffered great damage, but Kyuzo himself was unharmed. Nekome simply raised his eyebrows from behind his glasses, before continuing to target Kyuzo.
Through athletic front-flips, cartwheels, and reading of his opponent, Kyuzo was able to dodge each blast, damaged infrastructure Nekome's only reward.
Kyuzo glared at Nekome before reaching into a pouch at his back, and drew forth three small blue orbs, and flung them at Nekome. Within moments, the orbs became two sizable streams of water. They wrapping around each other and hurled themselves at Nekome with great speed.
For his part, Nekome side-flipped to his left, barely avoiding what could have been a lethal blow. In the split second he was upside down, he saw that Kyuzo's opportunistic offensive forced him to roll to a stop, and he released his fingers, his right arm never stopping to face Kyuzo.
The aforementioned captain stood at attention and brought his sword up, grasping it with both hands. He waited mere milliseconds before bringing his sword down with a cry. On the way down, the blade was meant with great resistance before it was able to complete its swing down, much to Nekome's shock and awe. As if to emphasize Kyuzo's success, directly to either side of him, the ground erupted in a small explosion.
"Even if it is an invisible psyonic blast, it still has to have physical form in order to do damage!" Kyuzo cried out with a cocky grin. "While avoiding your blasts, I was estimating the time it took to reach me from you!"
"Tch," Nekome grunted in reply with a glare. As his body straightened out, he brought down his left foot, and then his right to the sound of a crack.
Crack?
Nekome instinctively glanced at his right foot, where a sudden chill began to spread. The sight that greeted him widened his eyes with surprise; ice had incased his foot, and was beginning to travel up his leg, stopping just shy of his knee.
When did he…he drew three orbs, but only two streams of water appeared…I've been had!!!
Upon realization of this trickery, Nekome glared up at Kyuzo, who was now bearing down on his immobilized foe.
"Take this!" Kyuzo cried as he stabbed at Nekome. From his sword handle, the same three orbs that he threw at Nekome began to glow. The power of water and ice flowed along the blade, and exited the tip. It culminated in a flash of blue light.
When the dust settled, Kyuzo saw his blade flicker and vanish; the magic in the orbs that powered his blade gone. Panting heavily, he looked up and smiled at his handiwork.
In a linear direction towards the direction his sword had been pointing, a large block of ice stretched for fifteen yards, two meters tall and one meter wide.
Did I get him? He thought with some glee. His expression sobered as he looked on the results of his attack some more, and began to reach for his pouch once again, grabbing hold of one orb. No, I didn't; how could he possibly have move-
He felt a searing pain travel along his forearm; turning around, he saw what little of his pouch and its contents that were not destroyed were scattered to far out of arms reach.
He looked up to see Nekome standing atop a garrison house, leg still incased in ice. This time, Kyuzo made no attempt to hide his horror.
"When the hell did he," was all he managed to rasp out before Nekome took that same stance that preceded the elimination of all his men.
"Shit!"
Activating the single orb he had left, he was able to create a sizable buckler of ice before he felt something crash into it, driving him backwards with great force, smashing him into a building behind him. When he crumpled into the ground, he knew he was messed up; his left arm was probably damaged beyond healings aid; his buckler and armor unable to survive the blast and crumbled to pieces around him. He felt himself losing blood from various gashes along his body, including the back of his head. His spine was probably fractured, as he felt its fluid coming up his throat.
In a blur, Nekome was before him.
"It seems," he said in a lecturing tone as if Kyuzo was an erring yet beloved student, "That you misread my power. You believed that I focused psychic energy along my arm, then released it with my other hand in the form of a psyonic blast, like a cannon. That's wrong; here, let me gather a bit more energy, so that you can see what you were really fighting against."
Holding his right arm out, he closed his eyes, and a sky blue aura outlined his body. Suddenly his eyes snapped open, and there it was, plain as day before Kyuzo's eyes.
A…a bow…
"That's right," Nekome said, correctly interpreting Kyuzo's expression. "A bow made from the raw magical energy in the near-by atmosphere. Normally I have to do with the energy that I consciously and that both man and beast unconsciously release, but here in Crystal Tokyo, where magical residue is so strong one would choke on it if it were possible…"
Nekome left the sentence unfinished, allowing Kyuzo's hazy mind to fill in the blanks. Glancing at his still-ice-encased leg, a sent a concentration of power along it, finally breaking his leg out of his prison.
"You were different from these other bugs; unlike those flies, you actually had some sting to you, little hornet. However," he continued as he brought his now-visible bow into position, drawing back his arm that was now quite clearly an arrow made of the same energy as the bow, focused into a point with killing intent, "Whether hornet or fly, a bug by any other name is still a bug, and bugs must be squashed."
He pointed the arrow at Kyuzo's head, giving him a few more parting words, "I thank you, at least, for providing me with a chance to actually test my power."
The last thing Kyuzo saw before he died was a flash of blue light….
Crystal Palace
For the longest time, they stared at each other; monarchs and nobles, friends and enemies, saviors…and traitors.
It went on like this for several minutes, before Mamoru finally was able to break the ice. "So, how do you like it here?"
For their part, even Kunzite was unable to keep himself from showing signs of being startled; of all the questions Mamoru could have asked, that was the most unexpected.
"How do we like it here, you ask?" Zoisite said with a tug of his braid, before a glance from Kunzite gave him reason to keep his hands at his sides. "Well, how do I put this…it's very interesting and slightly…unusual."
"And by, 'unusual,'" Nephrite added with his arms crossed, "He means you're being a prick of unusual proportions, even by your standards."
Mamoru stared, wide-eyed at Nephrite, who merely raised an eyebrow in defiance. Mamoru then snorted; the snort became a giggle; the giggle became a full belly laugh.
When his mirth subsided, he whipped a tear from his eye.
"You never change, do you, Nephrite?" he asked the man in question, who only smiled in response.
"Can't say the same about you, Chiba Mamoru," Jadeite suddenly spoke up. Everyone in the room suddenly looked at him, eyes all widened in disbelief, and in one case, hurt.
Never mind the fact that Jadeite, the only man who respected titles and positions more then Kunzite addressed Mamoru as an equal in a sneering, demanding tone-even Nephrite's accusing teasing had a slight reverence to it-he had called Mamoru by his current name, not his previous one.
Mamoru had long since resigned himself to the fact that, if a relationship was ever reestablished between himself and his Shitennou, there would be a difference between their bond and that shared between Usagi and her Inner, even Outer Court. Since they were reincarnated at the same time, the Senshi knew her as Usagi, with Serenity as the mask; the Shitennou knew him as Endymion, with Chiba Mamoru being the mask, and one they almost completely ignored at that.
That any one of them would address him as 'Chiba Mamoru' was, simply put, unthinkable.
When he recovered, Mamoru turned towards Jadeite once again. "What do you mean, Jadeite?"
"What I mean, Mamoru, is that the Endymion we knew would never even consider putting us through this; so what, you resurrected us, freed us from our prisons, gave us nifty new bodies…and expected us to be on our knees, grateful that your forcing us to face things we never wanted to, were content never doing?! When did ANY of us ask you, even hint at, wanting to be out of those stones?!!! We were still able to protect you from those prisons, and we could still advise you, more then enough to set our minds at ease. You even have the gall to dress us in this….these…..abominations!!" Jadeite cried out, gesturing to his uniform.
"So no, Chiba Mamoru, I don't think you're much like you once were at all. Then again, what did I expect? You never were Endymion to begin with, just his recycled soul with a few memories of a specific past life awakened to correct the Moon's past mistakes and rule a monarchy without making a total fool of yourself."
"Jadeite!" Kunzite's roar came too late; the words were said, the damage was done.
Mamoru was stunned; sinking in his chair like someone had struck him. He had somewhat anticipated such an accusation, but had never seriously entertained the thought; his Shitennou would NEVER deny him.
That it came from Jadeite was a particular blow, since out of all the Shitennou's faiths and personal beliefs-Kunzite being a devout Jew, Zoisite a practicing Greek-Orthodox Christian, and Nephrite a nominal Roman Catholic (though Mamoru more then half-suspected that Nephrite's spiritual leanings were agnostic at best) - Jadeite, as both a Confucian and a Buddhist would have the least difficulty accepting the fact that he was both Endymion and Mamoru, the differences subtle at best.
A soft hand at his shoulder helped him recover, and he now stood from his throne facing Jadeite head-on, reaching inside himself, he found that personality that was both his own yet not, the mantle that was difficult to put on yet easy to bare, that part of him that was different yet wasn't; Endymion.
"Very well, Jadeite, if you wish to play that line and make yourself feel better, feel free to do so, though I'm shocked that you would strike so low; if anyone at all, I thought it would be Nephrite who would make such an outburst." Endymion went on, waving Nephrite's vocal 'Hey,' with a wave.
"In spite of your tone, you do deserve some answers; Firstly, I resurrected you in spite of your wishes and my pleas for you to reconsider your positions were because Pluto said that we had need of you; your attire, too, came at Pluto's suggestion that you needed to be made aware of the past. Secondly, since we are being so blunt, I would like to know exactly what happened back then, so we can put it behind us and, if possible, take precautions against it!"
It was then that Mamoru-Endymion realized that he had fallen right into Jadeite's trap.
"Oh, you're good," he grudgingly congratulated.
"Thanks," was all the reply forthcoming.
Tokyo Tower
As Nekome approached the construct, the observer in him couldn't help but notice that no one was here. For what continued to be a major tourist attraction, that was more then a little unusual. Well, He did say they would meet alone.
He then noticed three people, all separated, paying no more heed to each other then they did to him. Well, since they were supposed to meet alone, they would have to be eliminated. Glancing at a hunched over, black cloaked figure, he summoned his bow with the same energy he used to kill that hornet's flies, and let loose an arrow.
Nekome was trying to kill this man, and was justifiably confident of his abilities considering he just killed an entire squad of trained military men who were hardened by battles with monsters and insurgents.
So it came as an understandable shock when not only did this hunched over figure avoid his arrow, he did it by leaping at least twenty feet in the air. While doing so, the dark cloak fell away, revealing the most oddly dressed fellow he'd ever seen which covered a lot of ground.
Are those…SPRINGS…attached to his feet?
As the figure landed before him, he gave a little bow.
"Oh me, oh my, that was a magnificent shot! I must say, Mr. Archer, that in my long years of performing-long, long years-I've been fired, thrown out the building, had enough fruit and vegetables thrown at me to eat over three life-times, and booed off the stage. This was the first time someone's ever shot at me, though; I was a little disappointed in it myself, but I really don't think my performance today was that bad!"
Nekome didn't even bother to address the lunatic, but simply raised his bow and fired multiple shots, quick as lightening.
The clown began to move in an outrageous dance that would have made any ordinary observer just stare in complete disbelieve that anyone could do that and not feel like the world's biggest fool, as it was complete with exaggerated hand motions, twisting torso, 'running in place,' and even accompanying his dance with vocals; "Duh-da-duh-da-duh, duh-da-duh-da-duh!!"
Yet, despite its silliness, no matter how close they came, not one arrow hit or even so much as grazed the man.
When Nekome finally felt like a big enough of an idiot to stop, the man hunched over, trying to catch his breath.
"Zowie," he cried out, fanning himself with over-the-top hand motions, "That was close." He stood at attention then, a series of small throwing knives appearing in his hands. His voice was still light-hearted, but there was an undeniable undertone of danger, anger, and promise of violence. "Well then, is it my turn?"
Nekome, for his part, prepared to strengthen both himself and his bow, increasing its speed by absorbing the near-by magic residue, when suddenly a large dust cloud came at them both, causing them to look in its direction.
Both jumped out of the way, and when the dust settled, they saw a fine fissure in the ground, as if someone cut it with a sword.
"You disturbed my prayers and may draw attention to this place; if you must beat each other to a pulp, I am politely asking you to do it elsewhere; I'm meeting someone here."
The figure that challenged them stepped out of the dust cloud, revealing it to be a Native American medicine man, proudly wearing the robes of his office.
The clown, for his part, just stared at the man and pointed. "Dude, what's with that outfit?"
Stunned at the question, or perhaps because he didn't expect it from the person it came from, the confused priest never noticed Nekome strengthen his bow and shoot at him until it was almost right in front of his face.
What should have been another messy murder was instead a timely rescue, as a deep, dark-red chord came from nowhere, snapping the arrow in half. All three heads followed the chord toward this new interloper, who wielded it like a whip from a black shaft with a golden guard protecting his hand. With a flick of the wrist, the whip surrounded him before it shrank and straightened out into a thin, rapier-like blade. With a twist of his wrist, he sheathed it in a short scabbard, and the guard folded in on itself, giving the weapon the appearance of a cane.
The figure himself was an unusual blue-skinned goateed man, dressed in a tuxedo complete with a top hat.
"Most interesting," he said in a deep, cultured voice, "I too am meeting someone here, holy man."
"All of you are," A new voice that all of them recognized spoke, "Now please follow Vlad'ar's example and sheathe your weapons."
With some slight hesitation, knives were sheathed and bows were allowed to disappear.
"I really must apologize to you, Ohanzee, Vlad'ar; Marionette and especially Nekome are…acquired tastes."
A man stepped out of the shadows, unnoticed by any until now. He was outfit was similar to Nekome's in that it had a one piece shirt whose back-half descend in a coat-like tail; however, where as Nekome's was in one solid piece, this man's was split down the middle, each independently flapping in the wind. Pants and boots completed the picture, and an intricate stripped pattern that seemed to shift every second in a constant, disordered flow decorated it. To cliché the entire outfit, it was completely black, even the stripe, albeit in a darker shade.
This dark-haired man smiled behind sunglasses that hid his eyes, as he took in each of the four men.
"What are you playing at, Zetsubou?" Nekome challenged, ignoring the surprised looks thrown his way that the he knew this man. "You said you'd help me get revenge, and to meet you here alone."
Zetsubou, pushing his sunglasses up his nose, was silent for moment. Then he spoke up.
"'I can guide and lead you in your quest for vengeance,' 'my master will provide you with the opportunity you wait for,' 'meet me here in Crystal Tokyo, unseen by prying eyes.' I believe those were my exact words, to each of you."
"And who is this mysterious benefactor, your 'master'?" Vlad'ar questioned.
"She can not reveal herself now, or it would rain down unwanted attention on us. Come, I've designated an area for each of you to stand; all you have to do is summon your energy during the correct moment-which will be painfully obvious when it happens-and we will create a base from which we can operate, retreat to, and meet my master in safety." With that, Zetsubou turned his back to them and began to walk away.
"What exactly are we doing, though?" Ohanzee questioned, not feeling that explanation answered the question.
"Declaring war, Ohanzee; we are declaring war."
As he walked, he looked into his glasses, confirming that the other four were following from their reflections. "Gentlemen, like all dates with Destiny, it has been a long journey; our journey, however, is now over."
Crystal Palace
"So, let me get this straight," Nephrite spoke up, breaking the silence, "Part of the reason you brought us back-against our wishes-was so that you could question us in a more personal setting about things we've pretty much established that we either don't remember or don't want to talk about, and you're last resort was to play the 'guilt' card?"
Endymion sighed, and glared at Jadeite, who was congratulating himself on a job well done.
"It's not quite that simple, Nephrite," Endymion sighed.
"My lord, we…" Zoisite was cut off by a raised hand from Kunzite.
"We can not tell you what happened, my lord; like yours, our memories of that time are incomplete."
Endymion sharply glanced at Kunzite, "Interpreted one way, that answer hardly answers my question."
Kunzite shrugged, "It is the only answer I can give."
Sighing, Endymion sank back into his chair, and Mamoru looked up. "Very well, if that's all that you are willing to say on the subject for now, then we will move on to more immediate concerns. First things first; you are my friends, and you may stay here as honored guests for as long as you like. If you wish, I can reintegrate you as officers in the military, though your initial standing will be below the Elite, let alone the Senshi; Mina, unfortunately, insisted upon it. And while we haven't authorized it, be prepared for at least the Senshi's and maybe other high-ranked officers spy networks to tail you for a while; the….history of our battles is relatively well known for propaganda purposes, and your identities are well-known."
Kunzite bowed his head, accepting his demotion with grace and dignity. Zoisite lowered his head in defeat, and Jadeite mumbled something with a slight laugh that sounded something suspiciously like, "Of course."
Nephrite took a rather…different approach.
"Now wait just one damn minute!!" He roared, "What do you mean, 'network of spies?' 'We're relatively well known,'? WHAT IS THIS ENDYMION!!?"
Mamoru glanced up in alarm; if Nephrite lost his temper here…
Kunzite moved to restrain Nephrite, but the man had already set a foot on the first step of the dais.
"Are you saying we're untrustworthy?! Is THAT what you are saying?"
Suddenly an arm was slung across his chest, gripping his shoulder. Nephrite looked down in shock before looking to his side; Endymion was there, his low voice echoing in the chamber.
"If I thought even for a moment, Nephrite, that I couldn't trust you with both my life and the lives of those I care about, then I would have smashed your stones years ago myself."
For his part, Nephrite was significantly cowed; I didn't see him move, I didn't even see him stand up. I blinked, and he was gone. That's impossible.
And then, they felt it.
Tokyo Tower
As they all stood in their designated spots, the five men looked over at those immediately to their left and right; they stood, surrounding Tokyo Tower and a significant portion of the outlying area from five different points.
"Well then," Zetsubou began, pointing to his left, "Shall we begin?"
Green energy surrounded him, and a jade beam shot out of his pointed finger towards Nekome, the farthest from him in that direction. For his part, Nekome activated his own aura as a defense, yet it simply touched his defense, changed its color to match Zetsubou's, and reflected off diagonally from him into Marionette, who was the closest to Zetsubou on his right.
Marrionette's story was much the same as Nekome's though his aura was brought up a good deal sooner then Nekome's. The beam reflected off of Marionette, lacing directly across from him towards Ohanzee, who simply raised his aura as he was instructed. The beam bounced diagonally down from him, crossing the beam connecting Nekome and Marionette, and sped directly towards Vlad'ar, who by this point had figured out exactly what was going on.
"Well, isn't this…macabre," he quipped, rolling his eyes as he nonetheless acquiesced to Zetsubou's earlier request.
The beam shot back towards Zetsubou, now connecting him with each of his four compatriots. From above, it looked like a giant green pentagram had surrounded Tokyo Tower. Zetsubou looked up, and began to mumble something under his breath.
As the other four looked on, above Tokyo Tower, a black-violet mass began to assemble; looking at it, one could swear that it was flowing like a fluid in the air. Green beams shot up from each of the points, and all five were knocked back, landing on their feet only by their own athletic abilities.
As Nekome looked up, he saw that both Tower and blob had been seized by the pentagram in a shield; it was quite literally impossible to see through; while not even a passable scryer, he nonetheless tried to extend his senses toward the shield, and was amazed that he felt…absolutely nothing.
I'm not that bad, he thought before a tingling sensation tickled the palm of his right hand. Glancing at it, he saw a small green pentagram glowing, resonating with its larger cousin.
Have no fear, Zetsubou's voice filled his mind, to Nekome's complete shock; he had spent the better half of his existence building up his mental defenses.
We are connected to the shield, and that mark on your hand allows you to come and go from it freely. As I'm sure you are all aware of by now, this self-sustaining shield prevents any penetration, whether it be magical or science, physical or mental; it will simply take that strength and add it to its own. Only the five of us, and those we grant temporary passage, are able to come and go freely. So long as one of us draws breath and wills a safe haven, this shield will remain standing. Now, that mark on your hand will disappear when you are a fifty feet away from the barrier, but it will only fade away entirely if you loose the will for vengeance or if you die; those are the only two scenarios where that will happen, so please, no one plan on cutting off your hand, or someone who picks it up will be able to enter as freely as us.
Come, it is safe to enter, and my master, whom you saw gathering least she be permanently ejected, is waiting for us.
Nekome began to walk towards the barrier, glancing atOhanzee, who was still entranced with the mark on his palm, probably much the same as Marionette and Vlad'ar were. As Nekome touched the barrier, he was surprised that something giving off so much energy was so…cool to the touch. Pressing in, he was equally shocked that entering it felt much the same as entering a pool of water. He sucked in his breath, and plowed through.
Crystal Palace-Throne Room
Each of them felt it; feelings of pure malice, a collection of hate…then nothing.
Standing in shocked silence, Nephrite was the first to say something, "Okay, I'll bite; Whaaaat the hell was that?"
Jadeite rolled his eyes and ran towards the open window overlooking the city. Staring at the star-column coming from the center of the city, he closed his eyes and brought his index and middle fingers together in front of his face, thumb slightly bent. With an effort that his untested body could ill afford to make, Jadeite projected his mind towards that column.
Crystal Palace-Holy Gardens
Rei was off in a dead run, leaving her fellow Senshi in her wake as she sped towards her Temple; she had long since kicked off her high heels, and was now running barefoot at breakneck speed.
Reaching the Gardens, climbing the stone steps, and pushing past the sliding doors, Rei didn't pay any heed to the Shrine Maidens, who protested that even the Head Priestess would walk here with dirty feet, but Rei was in a hurry; besides, the 'cleansing' ritual of her feet, or any other body part for that matter, tickled like crazy, and she was in no mood to become a giggling mess, thank you very much.
She walked straight to the Sacred Fire, and began to chant; while she was one of the greatest receptive psychics who ever lived, projecting her own mind was something she always needed help with; thankfully, the Sacred Fire was more then willing to lend a hand, as always, and she bended her mind to Tokyo Tower.
When Rei 'arrived', she was surprised that she was taken merely outside the green structure, and not into it. She walked up and tried to place her hand on it, but felt repelled, as though she were a magnet of the same polarity. Turning to her side in contemplation, she 'saw' a most unexpected sight…and unwelcome.
Jadeite 'stared' back at her, and in a long moment, the two 'stood' in unwanted silence, unwanted fragments of unwanted memories bubbling to the surface.
Jadeite was the first to turn with a sneering grunt, and Rei followed suit with haughty 'humph'. Both stopped, however, as they sensed something on the other side of the barrier. With a simple thought, they both shifted to the other side, side-by-side.
There they saw him for the first time.
He had his back to them, and neither had yet made an attempt to enter his mind, but they could both feel it, this man's power.
Nice to meet you, Rei Hino the Senshi of Mars; nice to meet you, Jadeite, Lord and Guardian of the East. I am Zetsubou, Maker of your Doom.
Nothing can prepare for the shock of a scryer being scryed in return; they weren't in this man's head, and neither was there a connection formed between them from one side or the other, or even between each other for that matter. Communication on any level should be impossible; his mind hadn't even left his body, or they'd see it's 'image' now!
Yet here he was, talking to the both of them plain as day; both heard it, and both knew it.
Zetsubou turned around, and smiled right at them, a smile that chilled Rei to her 'bones' and caused her to 'shudder'. A quick look at Jadeite was able to salvage her pride as she saw him suffer the same way.
Their attention was immediately back on this Zetsubou, however, when he raised his arm, and a 'ripple' shot from his palm.
Son of a bitch!!! Was all Jadeite was able to 'cry out' before both were repelled.
When Jadeite's mind was slammed back into his body, he went sailing into the wall. Crashing into it, he spit out blood before loosing consciousness.
"JADEITE!!!!" Zoisite yelled out, outstretching his arm as if to grab him from a distance. Nephrite stared incredulously at the crumpled heap of his friend, and Kunzite made as if to rush over.
It was Endymion, however, who reached him first, picking him up as if he were a child. His wife was beside him in an instant, holding her glowing hand over Jadeite's head. Together, the two walked out of the throne room, followed by the other three.
When Rei was slammed back into her body, she was 'lucky;' all she had was a splitting headache.
The Sacred Fire, however, was almost snuffed out, and she ignored her own pain enough to call for the Shrine Maidens, who threw blessed logs on the Fire to prevent it from burning out.
"Head Priestess, what was that foul stench we sensed? What is wrong?" One of the older Maidens asked worriedly.
What is wrong, Rei thought incredulously, everything!!!
She had just met someone who could establish psychic connections between multiple people against their will-no, without them even realizing-all without leaving his own mind; something that was absolutely impossible. Establishing connections like that required all participants to be sufficient receptive psychics, and at least one a half-way decent projective psychic, but either way at least one person was leaving their mind and entering someone else's. This man was able to by-pass that fundamental rule.
"Inform the Queen and King," she said at last, "Tell them that we are in terrible danger."
Her duty done, Rei allowed herself to slip into a dreamless sleep.
Tokyo Tower
The moment the two psychics had been banished, Zetsubou dropped his smile, turned and swiftly entered the barrier. What greeted him was a tower-fortress that was surrounded in a waste land. Finished taking in the sights, he towards the tower-fortress, entering to see Marionette, Ohanzee, Vlad'ar and Nekome all seated around a circular table, each sitting at the point of its pentagram design.
Walking at the head of the table, he stood in front of his chair. "Each of you has come because you acknowledged that you can not gain vengeance alone, and vengeance is, if not the most important thing in your life, something too important to put off any longer. So, we-my Master and I-have offered to lead and guide you in your quests, asking only that you listen to us without question, and believe us when we say we shall make your targets suffer like each of you has suffered. If that is unacceptable, then you may depart now in safety, with no hard feelings."
For a brief while, no one spoke; then Ohanzee gave voice to their mutually agreed concerns.
"'Never enter a bargain where you are the only one who has revealed your cards;' these are wise words said to me by someone a long time ago. You know our cards, but we haven't seen yours; what do you and your master get out of this, and who is your master, anyway? I think I speak for everyone when I say that we need answers to those, at least, before we can give you ours."
"Fair questions, Ohanzee, and they deserve to be answered. In the first place, I won't insult anyone's intelligence here by making you believe that we are doing this for altruistic reasons; this is vengeance, and altruism has no place. My master's aims are, in the end, like everyone else's here; entirely self-serving. It is simply that, by helping you achieve your goals, my Master comes within a hair's breath of achieving hers. That's all there is to it.
"As to my master's identity, I believe it's time that was revealed as well, don't you think, Master?"
Yes, Zetsubou; it is.
Again came the sickening feeling; again, the black-purple, fluid-like blob appeared, only this time, it took the shape of a head, a head with a jewel in the center.
Zetsubou walked over before it, and then reverently bowed, his knee touching the waist.
"Behold my Master, and your benefactor; Metallia."