Ascension
Five: Evolution
-mentalyoga-

Mars, Mercury, and Jupiter stood in a haphazardly triangular formation against the horizon. Facing them was something not human, not robot, but not altogether monstrous, either. One thing was for certain: the ground that had split beneath them did not do so because their opponent was a little ol' thing—in fact, the girls were positively dwarfed by the creature. It may as well have been one of the buildings they had tried to rappel up only minutes before. Jupiter let her mouth hang agape for only a moment before she took charge once again.

"Here we go, girls. Mercury: visor. You know what to do. Mars and I will spread out on either side to trap it between the three of us. We'll be moving fast, but it should give you enough time to do a basic reading while it's distracted."

Mercury snuck a sideways glance at Jupiter in the all-too-brief moment of silence; this was the clumsy, awkward girl who couldn't get up the nerves to talk some silly guy she fawned over and who—though she always managed to put up a brave front—still gave an involuntary jump anytime an airplane soared overhead. The girl who had broken down in tears when Mizuno Kaya showed her a bit of affection—who confessed to Ami that she hadn't remembered what it was like to see in Kaya's eyes a mother's love reflected back at her. And now here she was taking the lead, making a plan, and kicking ass. Seven years had changed them all, but Mercury was…well…proud of her longtime friend. Jupiter was—as cliché and naïve as it sounded—inspiring, really.

And she had to be—with Venus still missing-in-action, Jupiter was second in command. Though Mars had always held the technical position, her fiery temper was too rash to act as commander. Jupiter, though not without her yearning for the rough and tumble lifestyle, was simply better able to control herself on the battlefield. Mars had stepped down, and now, Jupiter had stepped up.

A rumble from the youma's direction kicked the plan back into high gear. There was no more time for small talk. Jupiter and Mars made haste, sprinting off from Mercury's position like the wings of a 'V'—leaving Mercury at the tip of the formation and the youma in the center of it all.

Mercury touched a large button on her earpiece, sending the visor rapidly into action; before her eyes, there was only the outline of what was occurring around her. But mathematical equations and scientific data grew more and more opaque as her visor scanned the creature ahead.

"Hey, you!" Jupiter taunted. "Over here, doofus!" She jumped up and down, flailing her arms wildly and sticking her tongue out at it. On cue, the monster turned in her direction; slowly, a seemingly delayed reaction. Jupiter grinned, realizing that the enemy's intelligence was surely no match for three senshi quite well versed in battle tactics. After another long moment, the creature raised a wide arm-like appendage and pointed it in Jupiter's direction. A sphere of yellowish energy shot at her, nearly as slow as its master. She dodged the blow easily in a tuck-and-roll maneuver before shooting a quick "Supreme Thunder" in return. It hit home, but didn't seem to make much of a mark on the towering beast.

"Burning Mandala!" shouted Mars, releasing a pair of boomerang-shaped flames and stepping back to watch them circle the creature and zero in. Again, though the monster seemed slightly fazed, it was pushed back more in surprise than in pain.

"Mercury! Update us!" Jupiter cried above the din of the monster's footsteps. It was approaching the brunette in its still-crawling pace; this did not mean she wasn't growing a bit nervous. She needed another moment, after all, to gather enough energy for another attack.

Mercury pressed the button once again, and the visor was pulled back to whatever nebulous space it had come from. Mars didn't much like the look in her companion's eye. "I got nothing on it." She began to draw energy into her palm—her trusty science had failed her, and now she would call on her magic.

"Nothing?!" Jupiter shouted, blasting another bolt at the monster—still slowly nearing her.

"Basic information," Mercury called back, barely paying Jupiter any mind as she collected her power, "Height, weight, etc. Nothing useful." Her eyes were closed now, and she prepared to send forth the attack.

Here's what we'll do," Mercury continued. The monster glanced at the smaller woman briefly, only a bit interested, before turning back to his Amazon queen. "I'm going to raise a mist—Jupiter, just follow my lead."

The ice senshi focused once again on the planetary energies consuming her and, just as she sensed they had reached their peak, set everything free. A thick fog swarmed the creature, partially concealing it from their vision—but Mercury had not finished. With a careful flick of her wrist, the mists took on a conscious mission; swirling, the strange pseudo-liquid converged on the creature, adopting its shape and closing only on the area in which it stood. The monster had been caught in her web, and Jupiter knew just what Mercury intended—it was the years that had brought them to this point, where they could understand one another in such a way. The bright sky darkened; a black cloud came literally from thin air to cover the sky above the creature. This thundering above was no accident. A thin metallic rod emerged from the tiara bracing Jupiter's forehead, and tiny bolts of electricity jumped around ominously.

Three quick strips of lightning descended from the black sky—the monster, realizing its own folly, attempted to move out of the way, but Mars shot an even faster burst of fire to push it directly into the path of the electric attack. The lightning fed on the moisture in the air around the creature, and it convulsed for a moment before trembling and falling to the ground. A puff of smoke erupted from the mass.

"Yes!" Jupiter erupted, throwing a victorious fist into the air. "That was much easier than I thought!"

Blissfully unaware, however, the three senshi were being monitored by yet another intruder. A short, wiry boy of roughly their age looked on in consternation.

"That was too easy," her muttered to himself, adjusting the fat-lenses of his glasses and pushing them up the bridge of his nose. Twenty-three years old, Umino had never expected to be involved in mass conspiracy, but here he was spying on the sailor senshi! The three women seemed oddly familiar, though he couldn't quite place them in the clouds of his memory. It was as though, looking at them, he couldn't focus his vision on their finer features. The moment he looked away, the image he had formed in his mind was blurred or entirely forgotten.

His mission, on the other hand, was very clear now. Saito had instructed him in what he was to do were there to be an emergency, not altogether unlike this one. He held a small velvet pouch in his fist, and with fumbling hands, he tugged at the drawstrings tying it together; he knew the dust he was ordered to use was concealed within. Grabbing a handful, he felt a shiver run through the fingertips…up through the bones, beneath his flesh, and into his palm, where the dust seemed positively skittish with energy.

"Here you go" he whispered, tossing it in the creature's direction. He had been told what to do in the situation; he had not been informed, though, of what his actions would set in motion. With a life of its own, now, the dust did not flutter to the ground—instead, it took to the sky and traveled faster than he could follow, settling finally on the limp, massive monster lying just beyond the crack in the earth it had pounded out. The three senshi stood, still unwitting of what would soon commence, around the body—Mercury running more tests, Jupiter chuckling at their simple victory, and Mars pushing at the creature with a tremulous pointed red heel.

But with a pop that seemed to sound within their heads, the senshi saw the sparkle of the dust settling on their felled foe; with another loud crack and a rustle, the monster rose above them with shocking speed. In another quick motion, Mars had been tossed like a ragdoll against the wall of a neighboring building. Mercury and Jupiter jumped quickly beyond reach, and Mercury noted that Mars was rising—only a bit shaken, but with a determined look in her vicious violet irises. Neither noticed the traitorous pipsqueak fleeing the scene behind them.

"Okay, again!" Mercury shouted, as she brought down the mists once more.

"Go!" shouted Jupiter, another crack splitting the air as lightning struck its target—not once, not thrice, but four times. By the time the air cleared, Mercury was down and the creature was careening towards Jupiter. She leaped to the top of the lowest building with difficulty, and was out of reach, for the time being.

Its attention swerved to face the senshi of fire.

"Goddamnit," she swore, "Not again." For she had raced in the meantime between the two closest buildings—but found herself, as in the fiasco at the mall, gazing at a dead end. The buildings (naturally, just her luck) were not two, but were conjoined, and she had nothing but brick before her.

Jupiter peeked over the edge and down at Mars. "I'm gonna call for backup—hang in there, babe."

"Couldn't you have warned me that I was running to my doom?!" Mars shouted back and shot a small flame towards the other girl.

"I didn't know until it was too—" CRASH. The monster had pummeled the side of the building, and Jupiter saw the ground swiftly moving closer and closer. She caught a railing just before her face and the cement made acquaintance, but the railing cut through her gloves and into the tender flesh of her palms. "Shit!" she cried in pain. But there was no time to pay the pain any mind. The monster was bashing in the sides of the buildings, creating its own pathway to Mars, who continued to back slowly into the bricks behind her.

Funny, how she hadn't noticed the sinewy thickness of its tree-trunk arms until they were being used to bring her closer and closer to a very dark end.

Jupiter conjured her commlink. "Girls, we need some help here!" Static was the only answer—and it was not something that Jupiter had ever experienced, in all her years of using the damned contraption. "Again! This is Jupiter; Mercury is down, and Mars and I are about to join her! Come in! Anyone?" Static and grey, where there should have been the reassuring answers of six other soldiers. She tossed it aside and ran to Mercury's fallen form.

"Stay with us, Ami, we're gonna bring this thing down, whatever it takes," she whispered comfortingly. Though the girl couldn't respond, Jupiter took small victory in the fact that she stirred slightly at the touch of a friend.

Tucking the pale girl behind a stack of discarded boxes, she turned back to find the enemy only yards away from Mars, who was by now making futile attempts to leap up the buildings.

"Oak Evolution!" she screamed desperately, and the whirlwind of blossoms tore at the creature's back—leaving small imprints, but nothing deep enough to bring it back around. She sprinted towards it, leaping into a flying kick at its head. She simply bounced off and tumbled to all fours—no damage done, at least not to the one meant to take it.

But there was something different in its reaction this time; it had turned around, taken notice. And now it was coming for her.

"Morning, darling!" Usagi grinned, setting a tray of steaming breakfast over Mamoru's still sleepy frame. As his vision cleared, he saw her—a vision in and of herself; golden tresses tumbling down to the floor, her only-a-little-plump figure positively aglow beneath her white slip. He sat up as she gingerly handed him a cup of freshly brewed coffee.

He paused before sipping. "If this isn't a completely schizophrenic turnaround, I don't know what is…" he said resolutely, slurping the coffee up before his lips were quite prepared for the burn of it. A few stray drops dribbled down his chin to his bare chest.

His comment hadn't even nicked her radiant demeanor. "It's nothing, Mamo-chan," she smiled, "just that…I felt so completely alive when I woke up this morning! I don't know what was going on the past few days, but it's all better now!" Her blue eyes twinkled brighter than the shining morning sky beyond the curtains, but something still felt slightly amiss—at least to Mamoru.

"And you're sure whatever the problem was…whatever was wrong, I mean," he said, choosing his words cautiously, "is gone for good?"

"Oh yes," she returned without a second's pause. "I'm not sure why, but I can feel it here—" she pressed a palm to her heart. "It must have been bad morning sickness or something—you know, that's most prominent in the first twelve weeks of pregnancy," remarked the glowing girl astutely.

Mamoru couldn't hide his quizzical expression. "And how'd you figure that one out?"

"Couldn't sleep last night," she said quietly, and he noticed the puffy skin beneath her eyes, "So I did a bit of research on my own. There's so much information on the internet these days!"

He couldn't say he was sure where this abrupt change had come from— not the sudden physical wellness and certainly not the initiative on her part to look into her budding role as an expectant mother—but he didn't want to question it, either. While he couldn't shake that feeling and while he still found this all a bit strange, it didn't seem like a bad change…

He took a bite of the French toast in front of him, and hid his grimace. After all these years, the girl still couldn't cook her way out of a wet paper bag. But he loved her. "Mmmm" he lied through clenched teeth. But with a quick flash of teeth and a squint of her eyes as her smile widened, all was forgotten.

Hotaru hadn't moved in days—pulse slowed and breath even slower, there wasn't a stir from her bed, except for Michiru's constant changing of the sheets. The girl wasn't even soaking them with sweat any longer; it was habit now, just Michiru keeping her hands busy. That was the hardest thing, she thought to herself, scrubbing at the pristine cloth…knowing that her daughter was suffering and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. The murmurings had ended precisely thirty-three hours ago; Michiru was simply biding time, now.

In the meantime, though, she had taken up painting again—not entirely of her free will. It seemed almost involuntary now. The picking up of the blank canvas, strapping it to a frame with trembling hands; then, the mixing of the oils (blacks, blues, and browns, mostly), the unconscious brushstrokes as she fell into the wayward paths of her mind.

Haruka had questioned the images as if it were her business to be asking the questions, but Michiru shrugged them off—it wasn't that she was thinking of it as the paintings came. It seemed naïve to claim possession of the things pouring forth from her; she felt like something of a medium at this point, a conduit for whatever force had conjured up the colors and scenes. But it was that that seemed the most unsettling, because she wasn't at all certain why she was painting the Apocalypse over and over again.

Jupiter had dodged the blow just as it crashed against the ground. She didn't stop to pay too much attention to the deep imprint in the shape of the massive arm the creature swung at her; two seconds slower, and her brains would have been spilled all over the insides of that imprint. She shivered a bit but ran on; she had bought some time, she noted, looking back at the creature struggling to get its other arm from the pavement beside the imprint.

A pair of ravens flew overhead—back in the direction of the fire senshi. Coincidence?

"Flaming Sniper!" she heard, again from behind her, and a howl from the creature prompted Jupiter to turn back and look hopefully at the results of the attack.

The arrow had hit the creature square in the chest, all right, but it had only slowed it—the thing raged on. It was Mars' turn to dodge a blow, but she hadn't expected what would happen next any more than Jupiter did in seeing it. The creature had swung its arm as a decoy, and in the direction Mars fled, it shot out a vicious ball of yellow energy that Mars had no time to avoid. Just as the arrow had hit the monster where its heart might lay, the energy—whatever it was, exactly—took Mars in hers. She, like Mercury before her, fell to the ground motionless.

"No!" Jupiter felt herself shrieking, though the voice erupting from her throat seemed to come from some other girl in some other place, some other situation. The howl wouldn't stop, though, in spite of the disembodied sense she harbored. A burning in the center of her forehead began as but a pinch, but soon it was not only beneath the skin but climbing outside—the burn had become a light shooting out from just above her brows. She felt (again, as if it were someone else's head, someone else's pain) the tiara that usually wrapped about her crown melt into nothingness, and the burn took shape. Though she could not see it, the light had contained itself—no longer just a shapeless glow, it burst through her skin in the shape of her planetary symbol. The sign of Jupiter was etched on her forehead as defined as the bridge of her nose or the thick curve of her lips below. The pain subsided and the light was pulled back inside; but looking down, she realized she was at least three yards above the ground.

She put an arm behind her subconsciously, checking for wings. Had she died? Was she some sort of mutant angel in the afterlife? No wings, she noticed, running her fingertips against her shoulder blades and spine. This didn't mean she was dead, of course, but the raging of the creature below her brought her back to reality. She was not dead at all; in fact, she was bursting with power—it flew through her veins and out through her tingling toes, her burning eyes. She had, it seemed…evolved.

She didn't seem, though, to control what came next—but perhaps in time she would. The burning returned, but it was not confined to her forehead and there was no pain…just a tingling, a strange lightheadedness, and comforting warmth. Force gathered in her palms, and as she awaited whatever violent awakening that was coming, she took the chance to look down at her fuku.

No longer a two-piece, this fuku began at her shoulders and fell just below her panty-line; the V-cut bared all until her belly button, and her breasts were covered in fabric that took the shape at their tips to look like two large leaves—a belt just below her breasts tugged everything tightly together in an empire waistline. The leaf-esque top grew downward to shape the skirts.

And the power in her palms grew.

The skirt was as short as ever, but even shorter layers fell over the bottom one—a thin, soft mesh that bled olives and cedar greens that spilled beyond the shorter skirts above. Untainted white and rose pink melted as one in the upmost layer, and the ones between were alternating shades of white, rose, and green.

And the power grew.

Her boots, too, fit tightly until the ankle, and more leaf-shaped leather ascended, shoot-like, from there. Pink ribbons wound their way up her calves to the bottoms of her knees, where tiny buds sprouted outward. Her gloves were much the same; short, simple, and organic. Glancing down at herself—between the maternity waistline, the olives, mahoganies and roses, and flowing folds of it all, she felt like a genuine Earth Mother. A sexy one, but there was still something cloyingly earthy and maternal there that bugged her. How was she supposed to battle youma when she felt like a cutout from a New Age calendar?

The power had come full circle and was ready to be unleashed. She sensed this, but felt rather powerless at its mercy, nothing but a marionette for the powers beyond her. Jupiter had claimed her body as its own, and she was but the vehicle for its outpouring.

"Jovian Uprooting!"Well now, that sounded lame, she thought as she released the energy from her shaking hands.

But lame as it sounded, she wasn't prepared for quite the arboreal show that ensued. From the ground shot vines that slithered tightly around the creatures legs, arms and torso before it had the chance to throw itself out of the floral path—and so it was trapped entirely, for the more the creature struggled, the more tightly the vines wrapped about it. It wasn't simply tightening in on the monster; it seemed to be siphoning the life right out of it. As the vines and flowers grew in startling leaps and bounds, the monster struggled less and less. A thin, nearly translucent glow seemed to seep from the youma and into the Jovian flora confining it.

Was her attack draining its lifeforce?

It was a trivial inquiry; the youma had fallen, and this time for good. With yet another popping sound, the creature had vanished, leaving only a murky-colored dust in its place. The funny thing was that one small puff of dust (more gold in color than the rest) had risen above the rest of the cloud, as if with purpose, and began blowing westward. Jupiter paid it no mind, grateful only to be standing—and not, as her fallen foe could attest, dust recoiling back to the earth. But her companions!

She surveyed the situation with panic. Mercury and Mars both lay lifeless on opposite ends of the abandoned lot. She would only be able to handle one at a time—she tried the commlink once more.

"Anyone? Come in, please," she pleaded. The static had thankfully receded. "This is Jupiter. Two senshi down. I repeat," her voice cracked, "Mars and Mercury are down. Youma killed, but I need backup."

Crackle. Crackle. "We're on the way, darlin.' Hate to be late to the party," Haruka's overconfident voice finally came through, and Jupiter found herself releasing what seemed the most painful breath she had ever taken.

"Thank Zeus," she muttered. "Hurry, Haruka."

She had come to Ami's side reluctantly; it couldn't have been more inopportune that their limp bodies were at least thirty yards from one another. She was scared to move either of them in case of more serious injury. But Ami was stirring, she noticed with greater relief than she expected. They had been through quite a bit in their years, but Jupiter always had faith that things would work themselves out. Maybe she had lost that youthful optimism.

"Can you speak, Mercury?" she asked quietly, as if even her voice might send her friend back into unconsciousness.

A cough and furrowed brows, angry lungs. "Yeah, guess so," she murmured.

"Good," Jupiter replied. "I need to check on Mars' condition; wait here—Haruka and Michiru are on the way, and we'll be back to the Temple soon enough. Got it?" A nod, and Jupiter had set off in the other direction.

But Mars' body—lying in this exact position only thirty seconds before—was gone. No, no. Nonononono. Where her body had been was but an imprint in the dirt of the pavement.

"Mars!" she shrieked. Had some other monster come and taken her while she was down—at the one moment Jupiter had been preoccupied? How would she ever forgive herself? "MARS!" This couldn't be happening; not after victory, not after Jupiter had finally felt that surge of power churning inside, after she thought nothing could ever defeat them again. "MARRRRRSSSSSSSSSSS!!!"

There was a heaving between the buildings, and then a gruff voice called, "Goddamnit, shut your yapping, Jupi-chan." Mars' amethyst eyes peeked around the corner of the broken brick walls. "Can't you let a girl vomit in peace?"

And something broke inside Jupiter at that moment; the laughter burst free, and she was suddenly on the ground, hugging her knees and straddling somewhere between laughing and crying with joy. Her embarrassment was covered over by her pure elation at knowing they had all made it through. Mercury was sitting up by then, looking curiously over at her strangely out-of-control commander.

"Would you like to be alone with yourself, Captain?" she smirked.

"No," Jupiter managed through the heaving guffaws, "I think I'd rather have you two by my side."

A step from behind.

"Care to have two more join you?" another hoarse voice mumbled. Jupiter turned to find Haruka and Michiru—or more appropriately, Uranus and Neptune—standing side by side, ready for the worst, but looking at least somewhat relieved to find them all more or less in one piece.

"Please," Jupiter laughed, motioning to the ground beside her, "there are plenty of seats left!"

"Pass." Haruka grabbed her outstretched hand, and tugged. "Let's get you three back to the Hikawa Shrine and figure a few things out." After pulling Jupiter up, she knelt and took Mercury full into her tough grip—the blue-haired woman shrugged as she was carried mercilessly towards the gate before them.

Mars leaned on Jupiter for support as they recounted the episode among themselves. Only Neptune was silent and still, her turquoise hair flowing like liquid sapphires in the breeze. Her eyes had glazed over and her hands hung dead by her sides. No one was paying her any mind, but she had come to see that it was all beside the point now anyhow. No matter how hard she had fought this, fate had still managed to take them hostage in its vicious grasp. It would still destroy their lives soon enough—to think, she had left Hotaru home alone while she ran out to 'save' three women already quite fine on their own! Sure, Setsuna knew to hurry home, but what if something had happened to Hotaru. It was almost more than she could bear.

"Neptune," Haruka teased, "You waiting on someone back there?"

"Oh!" Neptune giggled, though it was but a thin veil, "I'm coming. I just got a bit lightheaded for a moment." But see, she wasn't lightheaded at all. The tsunamis were bubbling inside her now; fury was taking over hopelessness, as she raged against this fucked up fate. But what had she to do, but accept it? She wasn't aware of any alternative, but the waves continued to tumble within, and soon perhaps, they would break shore and scatter the surfaces. A half-smile caressed Neptune's full lips, but it never quite managed to foam across her eyes.

Next up in Ascension: The plot thickens as the senshi discover more about their new threat…then, a narrow escape, a long-awaited date, and a change of tide for one of the Outer Senshi. Sorry for the long delay, yet again, in the coming of this chapter. I'd like to promise not so long until the next one, but we'll see…!