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"Viko! Viko-Chan! Oh Kami! Oh, please no! Not you; not like this!"

The agonised scream tore through the crash and roar of wind and storm like the cries of some tormented thing, driving yet another spear of horror through his already shattered heart.

Turning, knowing with a horrible, numbing certainty that as always he would be too late, he watched helplessly as the shattered, broken body burned and melted before his eyes, even as the red-clad figure leaped away, her demonic screams of wild, lunatic triumph melting into the howling and shrieking of the wind, as she vanished into the fiery heart of the maelstrom that was now so much a part of what she had become.

Frozen, tears of rage and terror half blinding him, he watched in numb horror as the remaining figure: a twisted, ruinous mockery of the girl who once had been more precious to him than life or warmth or all the happiness in the world, moved swiftly to reach for the man Viko had given her life to protect. And still he could not see his face.

Still laughing, she lifted the broken form in her arms, bending low, her blood-covered lips parting in a languorous smile of triumph and appetite as they reached almost gently to touch his own.

"Such a tragedy!" she purred softly, her smile widening still more as the veiled figure fought in vain with the last of his strength to turn his face away. "To think that after all you've suffered together, and all you've been through, it should come to this. But then, we can't escape our destiny; the future is ordained and can't be changed. Isn't that what you told her, just as he told me?"

She laughed again, a hungry, searing sound of oblivion and boundless content. "Oh Greg, isn't it just so perfect; and with such delicious irony.

"But I really mustn't delay. Mistress is hungry for your little touch of positive reality, and my counterpart is growing very impatient. After all, I still must take your counterpart. He's close and listening, did you know? Thinking and hoping, and deluding himself. But you really must see that I can't possibly be expected to wait?

"Are you ready?" she called suddenly, her tone abruptly quick and touched with a hungry, urgent excitement as she turned for a moment away from him.

In the next instant, two figures stood before her, and he gasped. One could have been her reflection, so perfectly did she match her counterpart. Yet of the second, cloaked and hooded, he could discern nothing save for the fact that it was a man, with no clue as to the face the sable hood might conceal.

The storm seemed to be surging with ever-increasing ferocity, and it was becoming difficult to hear the words through the howling of the wind and the roar and crash of thunder.

"So perfect," Purred the mirror softly, reaching with almost gentle fingers to brush lightly at the form's broken cheek. "and so defiant still."

She turned towards her companion, her languorous smile widening to match that of the first. "Your completion my darling; at last!" she continued softly. "The last one; and then everything is ours! Take him, my love! Take him, and make him scream."

A low, terrible laughter came from beneath the hood.

And then, the figure was reaching for the form the blue-clad figure held, the body seeming to dissolve and vanish even as his last, despairing scream was lost beneath the sudden searing, ruinous triumph of the hooded figure and his two companions.

For one frozen moment a darkness seemed to conceal him. Then he was standing tall, his head thrown back as his roaring, surging laughter reached a terrible, shattering crescendo.

"FREEEEEE!"

The cry tore skywards, his empty arms lifting as he turned, hands reaching to throw back the hood. "Free at last! Free and one!"

And with that, the hood was cast aside; and Urawa Ryo felt the ruin leap to engulf him as he stared at last into his own face.

For one impossible moment of nightmare, he teetered upon the knife-edge of madness. Then he was plunging down into an oblivion that was for ever, and he began to scream: a scream that had no beginning, and that would last until the uttermost end of eternity.

And they looked; and thought that it was good.

** ** **

Darkness Chronicles
An anime-Manga Cross-over

** ** **

Book I:
Part I: The Gathering
Chapter III:

** ** **

"World Shaking!"

"Deep Submerge!"

The twin attacks crashed into the place in which she had been scant moments before.

"Where?" Was all Uranus had time to gasp, before the whispered: "Dead Scream!" sent both her and Neptune spinning headlong to crash in a painful and undignified tangle of arms and legs in the sand.

"Better," Came Pluto's calm, quiet voice as she hurried to where the two lay half stunned. "Better; but not good enough. You're still hesitating, assuming your initial attacks will at least come close to finding their mark, and not preparing to follow immediately in the event you're opponent has anticipated. Do you truly believe the enemy will stand and wait while you stop to wonder why he's still alive?"

Growling, Uranus disentangled herself from Neptune's prone form, moving to help the other girl stand as she rose swiftly to her feet, and spun to glare at their teacher.

The sudden and intensive training had begun at her own request. The growing uncertainty, culminating in their helplessness against Neherenia and the appalling scope of the nearly-catastrophic defeat Galaxia had dealt them, had frightened her far more than she was willing to concede, even to Neptune, and time was growing short; of that she had begun to feel ever more certain. Just when the final cataclysm and the cold that would cast the Earth into a frozen stillness for perhaps a century would come, Pluto would not say: perhaps she could not. Yet even Uranus, unused to brooding upon such things, felt increasingly of late that it would be soon, a sentiment she was almost certain her quiet, turquoise-haired companion shared, although she had said nothing. It was not something either of them seemed eager to discuss.

Staring now at Pluto's tall, implacable figure as she stood calmly waiting for one of them to speak, Uranus felt a momentary savage resentment at the green-haired Senshi's seeming indifference to the troubles of the world, as though at a whim she might pick the possibility that best suited her purposes from a myriad of choices, leaving them to fend as best they could while she stood cold and aloof, and watched and waited, and said nothing.

Then Pluto's cool appraising regard softened, and the illusion was banished as she shifted to become Meiou Setsuna once more.

"You can't do this alone, Haruka."

Her voice was little more than a murmur, almost lost in the gentle surging and sighing of the sea as she studied the other Senshi's set, almost savage face. "It's time to go back; time to face her."

For a long moment Uranus made no answer. Then with a short, almost vicious gesture, she detransformed, and turned quickly away.

"We failed…I failed her," she said simply, her voice hard-edged with tension and something almost akin to self-loathing in the sudden quiet of the sea.

Beside her, Neptune shivered suddenly, even as her Senshi-self slipped beneath the surface, and Kaiou Michiru reached to touch Haruka's hand.

"We couldn't have done more," she said softly, her own voice tense behind the sudden tightness in her throat, as much for Haruka's pain as for her own uncertainty. "We did all we could."

"And it wasn't enough." Abruptly, Haruka whirled on them, eyes blazing. Yet the anger seemed to be turned almost entirely against herself as her hands clenched convulsively at her sides. "It's never enough!" she snarled, the pain now roar in her voice, although her face remained a savage stoic mask.

"How long?" she continued low and tight. "How long before the next enemy, and a greater; and always we arrive too late, and do too little.

"Damn it, we owe her for this; can't you see that? We…I betrayed her; I gambled everything on a fool's hope. And for what! If it hadn't been for her and an unbelievable amount of good luck, we'd be lost; slaves to Galaxia and Chaos; slaves for the rest of time! No Crystal Tokyo; no future. And it's down to me. If I'd held on, fought to the end—!"

"No!" Michiru's answer was fierce. "We stand and fall together, you and I. So it's always been. It's our way; you yourself told her that. If you want really to blame yourself, to believe you weren't strong enough, then I can't argue with you. But at least accept the truth: that we were all equally at fault, and that it was both of us who agreed to that last desperate plan. Do you think I didn't know what you were trying to do? Do you think I didn't understand that there was no other way!"

"I could have held on; fought to the end, until I had nothing left. But for you, I betrayed her. Can't you see! I was lying to myself, and to you. I wanted to live Michiru: or at least, some small part of me did. And I didn't care what it cost. I wasn't wholly lying to Galaxia in those last moments.

"Don't you understand! We can't go on like this; not after Galaxia. We…I'm a liability to her, and I won't have that: not again. I care too much, damn it; for you; for the princess; for Hotaru; for the others; yes damn it, even for you," she said suddenly, turning for a moment to Setsuna, a sudden wry smile quirking for a moment at her face. Then it was gone, and the fierce mask was back once more. "I…we have to sort things out in our own minds before this can happen again: before we fail her again, and their are no more miracles left. I have to know that what I can give is enough."

Abruptly she whirled away, her sudden brisk, savage strides carrying her from Michiru's suddenly reaching hand, to vanish quickly into the gathering darkness of the glowering late afternoon.

For a long moment, Michiru remained, one hand reaching still helplessly in the direction in which the taller girl had disappeared, half turned as though to call, or to try to follow her. Then a gentle hand touched her arm, and she turned surprised to catch the sudden un-looked-for sympathy and understanding in Setsuna's red eyes.

"Give her time." The voice was uncharacteristically gentle. "She's afraid, and she doesn't know how to deal with it. Let her walk for a while; a few minutes; then find her. I'll wait with Hotaru in the kissaten.

"But don't be too long," she ended with a sudden full smile, and a lighter bantering edge to her voice. "That storm won't wait, and I'd prefer to be back in the city before I have to endure Haruka's particular brand of driving in the dark."

Abruptly Michiru reached for the hand on her arm, squeezing it with a sudden intensity of warmth she had not been sure she possessed for the cool aloof senshi.

"We'd have fallen long ago without you, Setsuna." The words slipped into the sudden stillness between them, almost before she had realised how absolute was that truth. "We'd have failed, and the Princess would be gone, and the future so much ash but for you. You know I can never—"

"Shh," setsuna said softly, her own hand pressing the younger girl's in return. "You underestimate her, Michiru. I think that's a mistake everyone makes at least once; yes: even I." A wry smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "She may be frail on the surface, but within that golden heart lies a core of unbreakable steel. None have learnt that to greater cost than the enemies who have dared challenge the good in her, and in the future she has fought so hard to protect. She has enough strength and faith and love for all of us, and some to spare; never forget that.

"Now go on; I think a certain senshi's had long enough."

And pressing Michiru's hand once more, Setsuna slipped almost silently away, her face once more its calm, inscrutable mask as she vanished in the direction of the kissaten, and the waiting Saturn.

For a moment, Michiru watched her as she disappeared. Then with a smile and a gentle shake of her head, she turned swiftly away.

"We see that too little, Setsuna: the kindness beneath the guardian," she murmured softly.

Then pulling herself abruptly from the sudden introspection, she turned her eyes along the shore, and began to walk, hurrying in the chill of late afternoon to bring Haruka home.

* * *

Peaceful darkness, and the quiet, reassuring stillness of his chamber. As always, that was the first thing of which he became aware as the horror of the nightmare faded, and he opened his eyes with a gasp of relief. For a moment they continued to smart reflexively with the remembered agony of the terrible, unimaginable brilliance they had seen, the phantom torment of the agonising burns he had endured coursing for one horrifying moment of memory through his head. Then the gnawing chill bit into him, and he sighed and shifted on the low pallet, shivering a little in the gentle darkness as he drew the thin Kaihei fur closer about him.

Kalleth had forgotten to charge the brazier again.

Not that it would make much difference. The land, like everything else, was dying, and with its death, the last of the magic that maintained the ruins of a realm that he, like all its many denizens, had once believed unassailable. Every enchantment, every power and ability no matter how small, grew ever more difficult to manifest as each day raced inexorably towards the final dissolution: the final death of the last pale shadows of the Dark Kingdom.

Uranite sighed again. As the last high mage: the last trained by Nephrite and Kunzite themselves – not that that was likely to count for much now – he, more than any of the six who had taken this last gasp of power after the terrible disaster of the fall, understood just how desperate had become their situation, and how vital it was that they prepare as swiftly as they could to flee what little remained of the last surviving stronghold of Beryl's once mighty realm, to the dubious safety of the dimension and the world they had once sought to make their own.

To Uranite, as to the others, it was a desperate, perhaps an all but hopeless plan. Granted: they could sacrifice some few ruined, shattered youma, their minds so broken after the impossible horror of contact with the terrible crystal, that they were useless for anything but conduits for the mana their brothers and sisters so desperately needed. Their final destruction would give them and their followers a short respite in which they might draw upon the natural mana of the earth to sustain them, until they could gain the life-energy they would need.

But in the end it was, he believed, a lost battle, unless they could be almost inconceivably fortunate. They had no kingdom to draw upon in any confrontation with the senshi: no kingdom, and no Metallia. The force that had once sustained them and the land they had come to call home was gone: wiped from the very fabric of reality, as though she had never existed. And it was this more than anything else that had prompted Uranite to attempt his latest desperate proposal, a proposal of which even Tellurite dared not speak beyond the confines of the chambers that had become their personal domain, lest it be heard by even the most loyal of their people: the faintest possibility of, at the last, a plea for clemency from the terrifying, dreadful leader of the senshi.

They had laughed at first as he knew they would: called him a fool, and a dangerous fool at that. Even fierce, yet honourable Cryolite had glared at him, and demanded to know at what point in particular he had decided to take leave of his senses. Apatite had mocked him openly – not that he had expected more of her – while Halite had remained stoic, and as always kept his own council. Of all, only Zeolite, herself a healer, and closer to the mage in nature than the rest, had maintained at least an outward calm, listening without comment while he outlined the barest inklings of that last fools' hope.

Yes: it was a desperate plan. No: he did not see it as anything save the last desperate gasp of a people with nowhere else to turn. Yes: he accepted that they might well die and bring the last of their people to ruin, before they could hope to negotiate. But he could see no other realistic alternative. Energy was at a premium, and the number of broken youma were few. Escape to the world was their last chance, and even were it possible beyond all reason to stabilise and maintain the ruins of the Kingdom, they could not afford to continue to sacrifice the shells that were capable still of procreation, if possessed temporarily by others. their population base was already critically small.

It had been a long and protracted council, and all of them had been exhausted and in ill-temper by the time Tellurite decided nothing more could be achieved without rest, and brought it to an end with the sealing of the chamber lights, and the releasing of the collective enchantment that kept out unwanted eyes and ears and prying minds.

Uranite shivered again. The days were growing swiftly more chill, and in a realm without seasons, the gathering cold was killing what little flora and fauna had survived the cataclysm with inexorable swiftness. If they did not escape within the next quarter-month and before the festival of Metallia at its end, they would be finished.

"High-Lord Uranite-sama?"

The sudden soft voice by the door almost caused the mage to start in surprise. He had not sensed Kalleth's approach, and that was not good. Very foolish, and very dangerous, even though he did not doubt the sleek felinoid-woman's loyalty.

Even now there were those too stupid to comprehend that any attempt to seize a share in the power of the new Kingdom from one of the six, even should they manage by some miracle to survive the attempt, would spell its end, as surely as though they had set out to destroy it themselves.

Only with him and his companions did any hope remain. They were the last: the last of a vanishingly small few that had ever been, who could survive, even if only for a little, without a constant background of mana, powerless though they would swiftly become without it.

Uranite was still postulating as to why and how they and the thousand or so other survivors, had managed to weather the obliterating wave of the Ginzuishou. The most popular theory was simply that they had been far enough from the epicentre of the wave to escape the worst of its cataclysmic power.

For himself, Uranite doubted this to be the case. With what little he had been able to glean from the watcher-crystals Beryl's paranoia (not to mention that of her generals) had ensured were concealed in myriad locations throughout the realm, distance simply did not matter to the reality-warping powers of the terrible crystal. It's destruction had been as absolute in the furthest reaches of the realm as in the very throne-room of the insane queen's palace.

For Uranite, another possibility seemed more likely, if very dangerous to suggest even now within hearing of any save his companions. The crystal sought out and destroyed what it perceived as evil or negative, and in this case more specifically, the evil inspired by, and created of Metallia. Only should one possess, even if in the smallest of measure, some inherent defence against that influence, could, he suspected, one survive its touch. In which case, a curious philosophical point was raised: that being why they had not changed to become what would remain after that influence was no more, perhaps revert to their original base form.

For that question Uranite had no answer. Perhaps it was something as simple and indefinable as an instinctive protection of the soul, a recognition by the Ginzuishou of some long-buried remnant of what they might have been. Perhaps the Ginzuishou did no more than re-awaken that latent potential for good in those few Metallia's long influence had not yet utterly overwhelmed. Whatever the answer, it gave Uranite the faintest flicker of hope that they might in some way be able to bargain with its wielder, and the terrible warriors who served her, as vanishingly small as that hope might prove.

"High-Lord?"

Kalleth's timid inquiry brought him once more from his introspection, a state into which his mind seemed to fall of late with ever greater frequency.

That also was not good.

Sighing, Uranite allowed her to help him from the pallet, then sat calmly on its edge as she drew water, and filled the low rock basin on the further side of the small cavern. Even he, as a member of the High Circle, was allowed only two servants, one to be on hand whenever he wished; they simply could not afford the energy wasted in a retinue attending to their needs.

Still seated, he watched silently as the cat-like woman heated the water with a murmured incantation that expended a little of her daily allowance of mana, then felt a faint smile trying to touch the corners of his mouth as she turned to move swiftly to him.

As always, she bowed low, baring her small sharp teeth in a smile as she reached to help him to his feet, purring low in her throat in a fashion she had learned soothed him, despite his insistence that it was a singularly irritating sound. But then, he was determined to keep at least this distance between them; he had already allowed her too much, and from the beginning she had misinterpreted perhaps wilfully his gentler treatment as carrying intentions he could never have.

For him, only chill, self-assured Cryolite could reach the something within him that he was almost certain his agonised encounter with the power of the Ginzuishou had touched into blazing fire. Only she could set his usually steady heart to racing wildly, and his ordered mind to turmoil as he watched her drive herself day after day in her determination to overmatch even Tellurite in the finest control of her mind, and of her powers. If any of them could survive the Tartarus their future had become, it would be the fierce, beautiful green-haired Cryolite, of that he was sure.

Even in those last heady days of the Kingdom, when Beryl's absurd propaganda had even him believing that their birthright was ripe for the taking, Cryolite had remained coldly sceptical, risking an agonising end should her views become known to any save the five with whom she had shared her childhood, and whom alone she trusted, and who trusted her and one another in return, as diverse as each of them might be.

Of all of them, Apatite: an impulsive and viciously unpredictable dichotomy to her elder sister's cold self-control, had been the most certain that they could not fail, that their glorious queen would lead them to Earth, and to victory.

Uranite could remember still with terrible clarity their gathering upon that last night before the end, their spirits save for Apatite's crashing with Kunzite's death in a sudden terrifying realisation of what until only days before had seemed utterly inconceivable: that the terrible wielder of the Ginzuishou might bring the war to the Kingdom.

Even then, Apatite had insisted that there was no cause for alarm: that no matter what powers Sailor Moon had displayed, she and her accursed court were after all no more than helpless human girls, with no hope of challenging the might of the Kingdom.

Cryolite had laughed openly, and suggested that her impetuous younger sister present herself as part of the vanguard, perhaps as Kunzite's replacement, if she was so sure still of victory, let alone the sanity of the queen.

As always, Apatite had erupted in a furious burst of infantile temper that had left her sister laughing all the harder as she had held her at last pinned half beneath her, and waited while the younger woman struggled and screamed, and swore that she would see them all in the chamber of eternal sleep when this was over, and the Earth was theirs. And as always, they had paid no more heed to her threats than ever they had done since they had become old and wary enough to know that she was as much a part of the 'Circle' (as they had called themselves, even as young children, beyond the hearing of others) as any of them, and that for whatever reason, she would never be their enemy.

The struggle had ended as it always did, with Apatite's rage dissolving into frustrated tears as she wound her arms around her elder sister's neck, and buried her face in her emerald hair in a gesture Cryolite seemed to tolerate, although she knew well her sister's attempt at affection was far from innocent. Such advances had always sickened her, though such liaisons were as accepted as were most things within the Kingdom. Only in the matter of breeding was a certain genetic distance demanded; after all, there was no use for the cumulative faults such progeny were likely to possess.

Cryolite had waited with long-practiced patience until her sister's infantile sobs had ceased, then summarily disentangled Apatite's arms from around her, and moved to rise.

Then the first tremors had struck, and moments later their universe had exploded in light, and terror, and searing, agonising pain.

Uranite started, wrenching his memory with difficulty from the horror of that terrible night, to focus once more on the tall sleek form before him. Kalleth was studying him intently, her vague telepathic sense granting her but for an instant and dimly, the merest shadows of the echoes of his remembered fear. And she needed no more to understand, as a moment's terror at her own memories caused a catch in her gentle purring, and a momentary flashing of her jade eyes.

For a moment she tensed, baring her teeth in a low snarl as her head darted from side to side, eyes slitting savagely as she searched for some unseen foe. Then Uranite's hand touched her arm, and the memory was only a memory once more.

"Peace," he said simply, his tone pitched to soothe. "It's passed, Kalleth. Let it go.

"Now," he continued more brusquely, "unless of course you intend to explain to the others why I was delayed before this morning's council, shall we proceed?"

Gulping, the moment lost, as to her it always seemed to be, Kalleth leaped swiftly to attention, moving with fluid grace to help her master from the simple gown in which he slept, and to the now steaming basin to bathe before his breakfast of Kigha, the pale fungi the only staple that remained viable in the dying ecology of the Kingdom.

"It begins today High-Lord?"

It was a transparent attempt on her part to make conversation, since everyone knew what was to happen that morning. But he allowed it to pass, and answered with his mouth full, watching as she busied herself with stripping the pallet of its woven covering, fascinated as always at her efficiency as she re-absorbed the silk-like fabric she could create, and began to spin more, very much in the fashion of a spider, though no obvious source was visible, and the silken stuff seemed simply to flow from her long taloned fingers.

"Vedris and Alaegra are preparing now," he told her, not needing even to concentrate to feel the subtle shift in the dying mana of the Kingdom to know that the two were still drawing from it in a now-rarely permitted frenzy of feeding for the journey they would soon begin. "They should be ready by the time I reach the council chamber.

"Speaking of which: the others are gathering; I must be on my way."

With that he rose swiftly, turning for a moment to regard his reflection in the tall copper mirror by the brazier. The roguish, angular features stared intently back at him, the dark eyes regarding his own with cool, unnerving appraisal, the dark hair swept severely back in a fashion he knew added to a chill, ruthless demeanour he found it increasingly difficult to cultivate.

Sighing again, he moved swiftly to the entrance, turning only to remind Kalleth to seal his chamber when she had finished the task with which she would be occupied until noon, and her daily battle-training: that of the continued cataloguing and packing of those scrolls he had been able to salvage from the ruins of the palace library, in preparation for a departure he above all knew must be soon.

For this, Kalleth was ideally suited. Literate, yet limited in the nature of her powers (although not in using what she possessed), she could gain nothing by reading of techniques she could never hope to master.

Smiling and shifting in a seductive stretch that left him unmoved, she assured him that today she should manage to catalogue and seal the last of the scrolls.

Uranite did not doubt her. She had been an astoundingly valuable find, ever since he had first discovered her wandering, dazed and half witless, only days after the cataclysm, in the furthest reaches of the realm.

She had tried to tear his throat out, half mad with pain and fear as she was, and he had assumed her to be beyond help. But Zeolite, reaching them in time to down the crazed cat-woman with a single touch that had frozen her in mid-thought, had assured him that her mind was intact beneath the pain and terror. And together they had wrenched her back to awareness and her right senses; they could not afford to waste time with coaxing, and nothing more was expected in the Kingdom.

Zeolite had dismissed her immediately, but something in the unusual sincerity of her gratitude had caught Uranite's interest, and he had accepted her bond-oath as slave to master, and had not regretted the decision, save for the problem of her increasingly overt infatuation.

Now he remained for a moment by the unsealed entrance to his chamber, watching silently as she settled at the low stone shelf that served as his work-table, her head already down, and a quill pen moving between hand and teeth as she alternated between writing, reading, and sealing the scrolls with a quick, fluid flick of a fine silken thread. Then he felt the impatient touch of Tellurite's mind, coupled with the fainter echoes of Apatite's irritation, and turning swiftly, he left the chamber, reaching back to touch the seals with his own awareness even as he hurried through the passages towards the council chamber, and those that awaited him.

* * *

"Huh-ha! Senshi! Can't catch me!"

The taunt, as it always did, drew a snarl of frustrated rage from the tall humanic youma-girl as she lunged furiously at the darting, illusive form of her younger brother as he flitted in and out of the deeper shadows amongst the rocks of the narrowing canyon. Magnetite had begun to use that particular taunt almost as soon as the first tales of the re-arisen Senshi had reached the Kingdom, whenever he wished to annoy his elder sister, despite her warnings that he would die, and slowly, should anyone save herself be close enough to hear him.

He had ignored her of course, something the little veshka was particularly good at doing, and she was certain it had been the cataclysm alone that had saved the imbecilic little fool's life.

Galenite cursed vehemently under her breath and bared her teeth in growing fury. They were not supposed to be here: would not have been, had it not been for his continual determination to try her patience, not to mention that of the Circle guard: the new title for those few their diminishing mana could ensure were fully active and prepared at any time of the day or night. It had been decreed that all must remain within the immediate environs of the stronghold, save by direct command of the circle, upon pain of death for any who disobeyed; the rest of the realm was simply too dangerous a place to wander, with their final departure so imminent.

And still the Ginzuishou-cursed little fool slipped away to explore, even daring the shattered strongholds of the generals and the gutted ruins of the mad queen's palace itself, venturing even to the very throne-room that had until so recently held all save the bravest, or the most foolish in stark, unrelenting worship or terror: to Galenite, the distinction seemed at best a dubious one.

It was towards one of these strongholds he was leading her now a merry dance, determined, she knew, to climb (as he had done before) to the very summit, and enter once more the shattered star-chambers of the disgraced Lord Nephrite that stood upon the very margin of the realm, in the vain hope of touching again the power he had just begun to realise before the cataclysm had brought the old world to an end.

"Magnetite!"

Her tone had long ceased to be conciliatory, and her sapphire-blue eyes seemed to blaze with their own inner fire as she increased her pace, and began at last to close the distance between herself and her wildly running quarry, her long blue-green hair streaming behind her as she prepared to do something foolish, and let loose a pulse-shock of air to knock him from his feet, and hopefully into better sense, before he fell, or worse, brought a decury to investigate the forbidden stirrings of power far beyond those parts of the realm still believed to be habitable.

At nearly thirteen, she was just beginning to realise the full potential of her maturing abilities, while at a little under four years her junior, he was still small and wary enough to dominate, even discounting the fact that neither of them were typical; after all, she troubled to care what happened to him, and he for his part knew he could trust her to take care of him for the little time remaining until he was considered adult enough to fend for himself. Such care was both rare and frowned upon, and one of the reasons he was certain he could test her patience within limits.

Youma were expected to survive or perish on their own merits, save when they were very young, and any sentimentality on the part of another was likely to be rewarded with death should it prove advantageous. There had simply been no room in Metallia's world for such defeatist traits as warmth, compassion or closeness.

"Magnetite!" her voice was now a low vicious snarl, sufficient usually to demonstrate he had pushed her far beyond her limits. But today, he was proving unusually intransigent. "I warn you, I've far passed the limits of my patience!"

"You gotta catch me first, Senshi!" he grinned, turning to poke his blue tongue out at her, then back-flipping with a telekinetic boost to land upon the first of the ledges at the canyon's further end that could prove as steps for one with his natural abilities, to the high plateau, and the ruined stronghold beyond.

Cursing him and herself aloud for not subduing him before it came to this, yet smiling inwardly with a sudden surge of relief, Galenite gathered herself, then with a single bound leaped to the ledge upon which he had been standing a split-second before, and to which he had only managed to leap by using his growing powers.

Now she had him. As nimble as he was, he was far from a match for her in strength, only managing to reach each successive ledge by expending some of his daily allowance of mana. He had lost himself in the chase, and would have nothing left by the time he reached the plateau, while she was expending nothing but physical reserves as she kept him at a frantic pace, letting loose the occasional snarled curse to keep him racing and too frantic to realise what she was doing.

He had at last begun to understand that she had long ceased to be amused by the game, and real fear had begun to replace the self-assurance of only moments before, as he realised that he was in for the beating of his life, when finally she caught up with him.

"That's right! Keep running, you little Vaghrae!" she hissed to urge him faster, her fury evaporating into grim satisfaction at regaining control of his little game. "When I get my hands on you, you'll wish I'd fed you to a Senshi! I'll make what Moon did to Metallia herself seem like brazier tales, before I properly start with you!"

He was frightened now, she could sense it as something close and tight, and she had to force down the sudden moment of guilt before driving him still faster with another snarl.

He had to learn, and learn swiftly. The days of their games, far from prying eyes and probing minds, were at an end. His foolishness was endangering all of them with the needless waste of precious mana, little though it was, and better that he learn from a beating and a little terror from her now, than that he should be taken before the Circle, and perhaps his very soul wiped of everything, to become nothing more than a conduit for the mana he could channel and hold.

Whimpering, his breath coming in desperate gasps, and his thoughts a sudden surge of barely-controlled panic to her acute senses, he hurled himself from the final ledge, struck down upon the plateau, and stumbling forwards, collapsed panting to his knees, half-incoherent sobs and pleas pouring from his mouth and mind, as she reached the final ledge and made to close the distance between them.

Then she felt him start and raise his head. And then he began to scream.

For one heart-stopping instant, Galenite was numbly certain a Circle guard, or worse, one of the High Circle themselves had found him. Then she was soaring to land at his side, and a moment later she too was frozen, staring in gaping, nightmare terror at the black nothingness before them: a black nothingness where the ruins of Nephrite's stronghold should have been.

"Oh Serenity's Ginzuishou-cursed palace!" she gasped, her voice a broken whimper in her own ears.

It was as if they looked into the final darkness that awaited all beyond death, and of which night-tales told: a darkness that had no beginning, and that would stretch until the uttermost end of eternity.

For a moment, she remained, head up, sapphire eyes wide and starting in horrified fascination at the impenetrable wall of uttermost night, as it moved inexorably towards them, devouring all before it: land and sky and mana, and the very fabric of reality. Then she was seizing Magnetite in an iron grip, and a moment later she was leaping wildly from ledge to ledge, screaming and screaming silently for any Circle guard who might be able to find them, while she kept her mouth tightly closed, lest she begin to scream aloud, and never be able to stop.

For one brief instant, an image of the stronghold and the chamber of the High Circle flashed clear in her mind. Then with a cataclysmic detonation of unchannelled mana, she was spinning in wild, helpless confusion, and a moment later she tumbled headlong from the unfocused teleport into the very hall before the chamber, seals shattering around her as she managed in her terror what should have been impossible, a leap into the very heart of the High Circle's domain.

For one stunned moment, Uranite, who had himself prepared the seals and to whom they were most attuned, reeled in agony in the midst of a chill retort to one of Apatite's more sadistic barbs, barely keeping his senses as he staggered from his place almost to his knees. Then the six were on their feet, leaping as one to the doors, the inner seals falling away as they hurled them wide to face the enemy; and froze at what they saw.

"What in Beryl's name!" Tellurite gasped, while Zeolite was already moving to the two prone forms.

"The boy is dead," she said simply, although there was no need. The small body was already beginning to dissolve, fading and dissipating, even as they watched. "The girl is drained, but she will live, should I be swift. Do we save her?"

"And have the Ginzuishou-crazed little witch do something like that again?" Apatite snarled.

She showed no apparent concern for Uranite, although that was simply her way, and she would have trusted him with her life. But the thought that a half-grown girl could smash down seals created of someone of his potential sent sudden chills of terror racing up and down her spine; the more so because the girl had remained an unknown until this moment, and it was impossible to guess as to what else, and perhaps of greater subtlety, she might try, should she be allowed to recover.

"She's completely helpless," Zeolite assured her coolly. "and if you don't trust me by now to ensure she remains so…

"Well?" she inquired, turning to the others.

"We can't afford to waste any potential unless we've no choice," said Tellurite, his cold grey eyes turning to regard the limp, huddled form. "And it's clear she has tremendous latent abilities. Even fully trained, it's no mean feat to break the seals of a High Mage, and she hasn't the aura of long discipline."

"Besides," Cryolite added as she moved to kneel at Zeolite's side, "it would be the height of stupidity to allow her to die before we discovered what drove her to this, and what she hoped to achieve, if anything."

"A surprise attack; that's obvious," Apatite responded immediately. "Perhaps that boy possessed temporal or spatial abilities for which she assumed we would have no defence, and they planned to take us unawares. Let the little traitor die; we haven't time to waste with her."

"I see," Cryolite responded, her tone laced both with amusement and contempt. "In which case, we can assume she leaped from the margins of the realm with the boy, expending almost the last of her mana, and all of his I might add, in the belief that we'd be so astounded by her sudden appearance that we'd all die conveniently of apoplectic collapse. A battle-plan the finer points of whose subtlety I must say, utterly escapes me. But then, incomprehensible and machiavellian over-complication was always your strong suit."

"Why you…you serenity-damned bitch!" Apatite screamed, her face a mask of sudden rage as she whirled towards her elder sister, although all of them knew very well that the fury was born of humiliation and her helpless fascination, rather than anything else.

With an incoherent snarl, she launched herself bodily at the tall emerald-haired woman, and the others shifted in irritation, knowing as always how this would end.

Not even deigning to shift her position, Cryolite waited, holding perfectly still until Apatite's sharp nails were within a fractional distance of her face. Then her hand blurred towards her, and an instant later the smaller blue-haired woman was pinned in one arm, her face turning the colour of her hair as Cryolite held her impotent and unable to move with her own greater power, while her long, slender hand tightened about her throat.

"I could break it, you know," she remarked conversationally, a sudden deadly purr in her cold, clear voice. "Don't try me, Apatite; you know what will happen. I'm only willing to stand these little tantrums because I know you're too much of a spoilt little girl to do anything else. But I'm fast losing patience, and we don't have the time.

"I assume you understand? An affirmative gasp will do."

Apatite could only gurgle something incoherent in answer, her sister's mind already having wrapped her own in a smothering cocoon that made even a telepathic response impossible.

"All right," Tellurite snapped impatiently, the tight, barely controlled fury in his tone showing to the others just how unsettled he was still; "enough! You've proved your point."

Cryolite half turned, not relaxing her hold for a moment even as her eyes flashed to his own in fierce challenge. For a moment, Tellurite met her implacable emerald stare. Then abruptly he whirled away with a savage twist.

But Uranite had caught the unease in his grey eyes, and he knew that even Tellurite, powerful as he was, knew better than to challenge the fierce, self-assured fighter on something so close to her heart, and something she considered increasingly threatened their security.

He made as though to say something himself, then Zeolite's voice cut through the sudden silence: "Cryolite, you're hurting her; let her go."

Uranite turned at that, and started as he saw real terror in Apatite's starting eyes as tears streamed helplessly down her cheeks. And suddenly he understood that Cryolite was pushing the limits of her sister's trust, and that the look was very close to one of horrified realisation and a growing betrayal.

Then Cryolite had relaxed her hold, and the smaller woman was curled up in her arms, whimpering and shivering and clutching at her in a nauseating display of melodramatic distress, and the moment was gone.

'One day you will push her too far.' Zeolite's quiet thought to Cryolite was for her alone, but Uranite caught it. 'She won't change; you're wasting your time if you think she will. She's as much a part of the Circle as the rest of us, and you know we can trust her.'

"Damn you!" Apatite choked, not relaxing her hold. "Damn you to Tartarus, Cryolite!"

Then she pressed her face into her sister's hair, and tried to force more tears.

"I assume," Halite's cool tone cut through the absurd moment, "that the entertainment is over for the morning? We do have more important concerns just at the moment. So can we forget Apatite's melodramatics, and get back to our guest?"

He jabbed a finger in the limp humanic's direction, then froze as he sensed Zeolite had already begun the flow of mana that would give the girl a chance at healing.

"She would have been dead a dozen times, had I waited for the rest of you," she said simply. "I assumed we wanted her to live."

"If possible; and certainly until we learn more, and discover what she was trying to do," Tellurite agreed, as Apatite at last composed herself, and the rest returned their attention fully to the strange girl once more. "Can you probe her, or is she too deep?"

"She's in no fit state for an intensive interrogation," Zeolite answered. "Probably, I can pull the last few moments before she arrived from her memory without doing any lasting damage. But any more…"

"Then that will have to do," he said brusquely.

"Give me a moment then. Uranite, you might want to see this."

"Mm," The mage nodded, glancing for a moment to where Apatite stood, her eyes fixed still possessively on her sister in a way he did not like at all. As usual, Cryolite was ignoring her, her attention fixed on his cousin as she reached to lay a slender hand on the young youma's head.

"This should only take a moment… Metallia's black soul!"

The horrified exclamation brought Uranite to her side and into contact with the probe in an instant. A moment later both were on their feet, Uranite whirling desperately to face the others.

"Have Vedris and Alaegra here, now!" his voice and eyes brooked no argument. "Get the warriors prepared, and the rest mana-fed and ready."

"What in Tartarus are you babbling about?" Apatite demanded shrilly, although her suddenly ashen face told him that she had already reached a guess.

"Collapse," his tone was cold and final. "We've perhaps an hour to escape before there is nothing left of this reality, or of us. The Dark Kingdom is finished."

* * *

"Usagi, you really are impossible!" Rei glared down in exasperation at the hopeless odango-atama as she pulled herself to her feet.

Usagi stood, staring down miserably at the remains of her ice-cream cone, the expected tears already beginning to shimmer in her blue eyes.

"It wasn't my fault! I can't help it if they let the grass get like this, and put weeds everywhere."

She pointed down at the hump that had tripped her, and prepared to let loose with a full-fledged wail.

"And stop that noise! Everyone's looking at us! Not that that ever seems to make any difference to you."

"Rei-chan!" Usagi began, then abruptly the tears vanished as though cut off with a switch.

"Mamo-chan!" she shrieked. "Where did you get to! We've been waiting for simply ages!"

In the next instant she had nearly bowled over a man, his wife and their three children in an effort to reach the object of her attention.

Stifling an exclamation of despair, Rei hurried to catch up with them.

"Honestly, Usagi; can't you at least look where you're going?" she demanded, knowing already that it was a waste of time.

Usagi had already latched on to Mamoru's arm, and was paying about as much attention to her as to the ground before her feet, This fact demonstrated amply a moment later when she tripped again, and would have sprawled headlong had not Mamoru caught her in time.

It had been Usagi's suggestion to visit the new theme park on its first day, the others agreeing, despite Rei's assertion that it would be packed, and that they'd be better waiting a few days for the excitement to die down. But patience was not one of Usagi's or Minako's more notable traits, and she had at last capitulated, rather than endure Usagi's pleading, not to mention be the only one left behind, since the others had convinced Ami that a single day away from her seemingly ever-increasing study schedule would do her no harm. The extensive Science Hall and the international exhibition that was to be a part of the park's inauguration had also gone a long way to convincing her.

Usagi had even asked Hotaru (and by extension, the other outer Senshi), but Hotaru had apologised, saying that they had something else they needed to do.

There had been real regret in her voice. But all Rei had been able to see was the outers distancing themselves yet again.

"If they want to be like that, forget them," she had snapped none too charitably, when Usagi had continued to harp on the matter that morning, the resulting tears and accusations concerning her ill-temper doing nothing to improve said temper as the day progressed.

Now she sighed as she watched Usagi manipulate an unresisting Mamoru into buying her another ice-cream. She had started out in a particularly accommodating mood, determined for once not to quarrel with the girl she loved as a sister (though she would never have admitted it, especially to her) and spoil the day; but Usagi could be just so impossible, and as always her resolve had come to nothing. Almost as soon as they met Usagi had mentioned the outer Senshi, and the arguing had started.

"Stupid Odango-Atama!" Rei muttered, far more angry with herself than with Usagi. "Why do you always manage to do this to me?"

She sighed again, a faint smile trying to touch her lips as she watched Mamoru capitulate, and Usagi beam as she hurried beside him towards a stand, seeming utterly oblivious to Rei until suddenly she glanced back with a full beckoning smile that brought a sudden choking lump to Rei's throat.

"Oh Usagi-chan! You really are impossible," she said softly once more.

Then hiding a secret smile of her own, she moved swiftly to take her place once more at the side of her princess, and her friend.

* * *

"Yes!" Minako exulted as the last ball sailed perfectly through the centre of the hoop and struck the pin, to send it falling with a satisfying ping, turning for a moment to flash Makoto a triumphant grin as the stall's proprietor sighed good-naturedly, and moved to lay yet another furry bundle in her arms.

He glanced helplessly for a moment at the considerable pile she had already accumulated as she gestured for the game once more to be reset, casting a pleading look towards her taller companion before he moved back behind the counter to begin retrieving the balls.

"Um, Mina-chan? Don't you think…"

Makoto gestured with the same helplessness at the pile of stuffed toys, and shook her head. "How are you going to carry all these?"

Minako turned, seeming only then to become fully aware of just how large the pile had become.

"Oops!" she blushed, her hand abruptly behind her head, giggling nervously as she turned to the harried but still-smiling man, her expression suddenly apologetic as he placed the refilled container before her once more. "Um, sorry. I suppose I wasn't really counting."

He smiled without annoyance, and made as though to answer. Then abruptly he turned, glancing at what seemed a momentary disturbance at some little distance from the stall.

At the sudden movement, both girls turned to follow the direction of his gaze.

For a moment, they could see nothing. Then suddenly, people were moving hastily as though shoved aside, and a moment later a youth of perhaps sixteen burst from the mass of moving bodies, and stumbled frantically in their direction. For a second he looked wildly about as though at a loss, then spotting the two girls, he gave a cry of relief, and came pounding directly towards them.

For an instant both stared bewildered. Then Minako started, and waved.

"Urawa-san!" she shouted to him in astonished surprise, grinning and waving, forgetting in that moment that he would of course not remember her.

Then, even as she remembered and flushed in sudden embarrassment, he pelted the last few steps, and stumbled to a halt, panting for breath as he regarded them intently.

"Where…" he tried, then choked off, still gasping. "Where is she?" he managed at last. "I have to find her."

Minako and Makoto stared, taken utterly aback, both by the desperate urgency in his tone, and by the fact that he seemed to know them when it should have been impossible.

"How—" Minako began at last, half turning to help the stall's proprietor as he began to push her prizes into three large plastic bags.

But Urawa cut her off.

"No time!" he said, still panting. "I have to find Ami-chan! There''s something she has to know!"

"Whoa," Makoto tried to reassure him; "calm down. What on Earth's happened?"

But Urawa shook his head, the old easy warmth they remembered buried it seemed beneath a mask of frantic haste. "I can't explain now!" he said urgently. "Memory's been coming back for about a week, but I didn't remember everything fully till this morning. I knew…saw you'd be here, and I've been looking everywhere. I'LL tell you everything later if I can, but now I have to find Ami-chan before it's too late! Please! If she's here…"

"She said something about the Science Hall," Makoto volunteered, shocked and bewildered, but with a sudden sense that this might indeed be important. Perhaps his powers had returned with his memory; perhaps he had seen something they needed to know.

She turned as Minako flashed the proprietor a quick smile of thanks, then spun back as Urawa thanked her quickly.

"The science hall?" he continued. "Of course! I'm an idiot for not going straight there. Thanks," he said again.

And before either of them could say more, he had turned and bolted headlong into the crowd.

"Come on!" said Makoto urgently. "We have to get to the bottom of this."

"Hey!" Minako cried, struggling to gather up her packages. "Mako-chan! Who's going to help me carry these!"

But Makoto had already disappeared.

"Damn!" Minako said feelingly as she fought with the bags.

She shot another quick smile of thanks to the bewildered proprietor, then turning she began to move as fast as her burdens would allow in pursuit.

"Mako-chan, wait up a minute!"

Cursing again she tried to move more quickly. Then abruptly she stumbled into someone, and sprawled headlong.

"Why don't you look where you're going?" An irritated and vaguely familiar voice began, then stopped short. "Minako-san?"

"Naru-chan?" Minako gasped a little dazedly, struggling to gather up her bags yet again while trying to stand at the same time.

Smiling suddenly, the other girl moved quickly to help her. "I didn't know you'd be here today, though I suppose I might have guessed. Is Usagi-chan here too? She didn't call."

There was a sudden momentary tightness in her voice, and a flash of pain in her eyes, quickly masked behind the return of her smile as she helped Minako with the last of the packages. "Um, what are you going to do with all these?"

"Yes she's here," Minako answered quickly, ignoring the second question in her haste. "Sorry Naru-chan; I'd really like to stop and talk, but Ie really have to find someone. Do you know where the science hall is?"

"I just left gurio-Kun there," she answered. "Is it Ami-san you're trying to find?"

"Her boyfriend…um, well sort of ex-boyfriend. He was in a real hurry to find her, and I told him that's where she would be. Mako-chan went after him but—"

"Come on then," Naru moved to take one of the bags. "It's not far."

Moments later they were hurrying through the milling crowd, Minako keeping up a quick pace, despite the people moving all about them. It was only a little later that they passed through the denser throngs, and she caught sight of the sign directing them towards her destination.

"Thanks Naru-chan," she smiled, reaching to take the last of her bags. "If you're looking for Usagi-chan—"

"She'll be where the food is; I know," Naru finished for her, a warm nostalgic smile flickering for a moment across her face.

She waved to Minako as the other girl hurried towards the entrance, then sighing she turned away, brushing for a moment at the wetness that seemed to hover at the corners of her eyes, before shrugging sadly, and moving swiftly in the opposite direction to the food stalls.

Minako spotted the two of them almost as soon as she entered the hall. Makoto was standing by a table that held a large glass fish-tank in which Minako caught glimpses of some unidentifiable creatures as they glided beneath the rippling surface of the water, while Urawa paced frantically back and forth, his eyes seeming fixed on a point near the hall's further end.

"Oy! thanks for giving me a hand!" Minako complained as she hurried towards them. "Where's Ami-chan?"

"She's…um…busy," Makoto pointed towards the sign that indicated the conveniences beyond the hall's further end. "This baka here was going to go charging right in there to talk to her."

"Hentai!" Minako exclaimed, turning to glare at Urawa in mock-indignation.

But he did not smile in return.

"Come on Ami-chan, come on!" he muttered urgently, seeming almost oblivious of the two girls, his expression darkening still more as he continued to watch the further entrance as though he might will her to appear.

"Look, what is this all about!" Minako demanded, at last beginning to lose her patience as she stalked to stand directly before him.

Urawa opened his mouth as though to answer; and it was then that they heard the first screams begin.

"That," he said simply, his tone grim and final. "It's begun, and there's no more time."

And with that, he whirled away from them, and plunged with wild desperation into the suddenly panicked crowd.

* * *

Agony: an agony he knew, even through its haze, simply could not be.

For one impossible moment, this was all Vedris could know or understand as he stepped from High-lord Uranite's perfect gate, and into a sea of searing, soul-rending pain.

It had been a terrifying minute or two, from the moment he and Alaegra had been torn violently from their feeding by the frantic, wrenching pull of the call of the High Circle.

Racing desperately for the inner domain, they had reached the council chamber to find all six waiting, their faces as grim as they had ever seen them. Only then, as they listened in growing horror to High Lord Tellurite's urgent instructions, did they come to understand the unimaginable enormity of their situation.

"You have exactly half an hour," high Lord Tellurite had ended as the high-mage prepared the gate, and nodded to him that he was ready. "That is all we can give. If we hear nothing within that time, we must assume you are dead, or beyond our help. Understand also that there is to be no deviation of any kind from the instructions you have been given. Make no mistake. Our future depends upon the success of this reconnaissance. Should you feel a need to indulge yourselves in pointless heroics, or a sudden desire for vengeance and so jeopardise our escape before the collapse, your reward, should you survive, shall both be swift and terminal. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, High Lord Tellurite-sama," Both had answered with a shudder, although the idea of engaging the dreadful wielder of the terrible crystal, let alone in their present condition, could not have been further from their minds. The few months since the fall were still too vivid in their memories for them to have any illusions concerning what would happen to them should they fall pray to some pointless quest for revenge.

"Very well," high Lord Tellurite had ended. "Go, and good luck. Uranite?"

The High Mage had gestured, and the gate, visible only to those at least latently sensitive to the subtleties of spatial manipulation, had appeared before them.

"Do not fail us," he had said simply.

And nodding, they had stepped forwards, and entered the shimmering portal.

All had been perfect until the very instant they had passed from the council chamber into what should have been a deserted Juuban alley. Then the outer edge of the gate, invisible even to High Lord Uranite's limited sight within the collapsing reality of the Kingdom, had twisted horribly, and Vedris had stumbled out into screams and light, and blazing, agonising torment.

* * *

"What! Where!"

It had been as always impossibly swift. In one moment Usagi was reaching for the ice-cream cone Mamoru was holding out to her. In the next, the screaming had begun. For one stunned instant the shock of the sudden spreading panic caught all three of them utterly by surprise. Then abruptly Rei was whirling wildly away, staring in gaping disbelief towards a building only twenty yards or so from where they stood.

"Youma!" she shrieked above the rising tide of pandemonium all around them. "Gods! How!"

"What!" Usagi almost screamed, trying to be heard over the sudden din. "But that's impossible!"

"I know the aura of a Youma, Usagi!" Rei snapped savagely in return, already turning wildly this way and that as she sought desperately for a place in which they could transform. "Quickly, the stand!" she screamed.

The others needed no further urging. In moments all three were racing wildly for the ice-cream stand, it having been vacated the moment its proprietor had heard the first of the screaming.

Diving desperately behind the concealing counter, the two girls burst forth a moment later in senshi form, Tuxedo Kamen only an instant behind them. Then they were standing atop the little kiosk, searching desperately for the source of the trouble.

"There!" Mars shouted, gesturing swiftly to a point less than twenty yards from their precarious perch. "Almost by the far end of the science hall. There's only one I think. Although how it survived undetected all this time, and what on earth it thinks it's trying to do—!"

"Let's worry about that later," Moon cried with uncharacteristic venom. "I'm sick of having every outing we arrange ruined by whatever enemy decides it's time to show up. Come on! This thing's moon-dust!"

With that, she leaped to the roof of a larger stand, the others beside her as they closed the distance with frantic speed.

* * *

The pain was inconceivable, beyond even the searing power that had turned his familiar world to ruin. Dimly he understood what must have happened; that somehow the Senshi must have been aware from the beginning, and had diverted the gate's exit-point beyond Juuban and the precious few miles protected by the capped mana-source that existed beneath its centre: the few miles in which a Youma could survive for any length of time without swift death brought about by mana starvation in the hostile environment of the mana-sealed Earth.

Screaming: fighting with everything he had to hold his leaking mana to him, and avoid immediate catastrophic disintegration, Vedris lashed out blindly, knowing it was in vain, pulling hopelessly with a savagery born of the terror of death and the darkness that lay beyond at the desperately-needed life-energy of the panicking humans that surrounded him, hoping that by some miracle he might gain enough to teleport back to the Kingdom before the last of his shielding broke down, and his body was torn apart by the mana-hungry Earth. He knew before he began that it was hopeless. Even should the Senshi not appear in the next few moments to kill him outright, he would not last another half-minute, let alone the frantic moments he would need to gather the energy to return unaided to his dying home.

Then the hated words reached him through his pain, and despairing, all-engulfing rage replaced all that he might have become, and nothing mattered but to try in his last moments to see the destroyers of the Kingdom pay in some small part for the ruin they had wrought. Where was Alaegra?

"Stop!" The dreadful voice seemed to overwhelm him with its malevolent hatred, and his last hope was gone. "A park is a place of—"

Through the haze of approaching oblivion Vedris saw the nemesis of his people, and releasing everything, his body already beginning to vanish around him, he hurled himself blazing towards her, his only thought to burn and rend and destroy. And something horrible and impossible lurched and twisted sickeningly in the fabric of reality around him, and in the next instant Vedris erupted in a brilliant blaze of flaring, shrieking mana gone insane, and chaos ruled supreme.

* * *

"Damn it; let us through!"

Makoto twisted violently, shoving a burly man aside as though he weighed nothing as she fought desperately to clear a path to the further entrance and the rooms behind, where they could transform unseen. It was no good. People were running pell-mell this way and that, most surging towards the nearer entrance and away from what seemed to be the centre of the panic, perhaps believing the hall on fire: the most likely reason for the screaming.

Both girls new better. Whatever it was, Urawa's frantic urgency had convinced them it was something with which the Senshi needed to deal.

"It's hopeless!" Minako shouted, using her bags to ward off yet another racing form.

"Get out! Get out!" he was screaming again and again as he tore passed them. "Oh Kami, something's trying to kill people back there! Out! Out!"

He raced on, his cries becoming half-incoherent as he barrelled through an electronics stand, and all but fell through the entrance, disappearing into the growing madness.

"To hell with this!" Makoto snarled, spinning out of the headlong rush, and diving towards an archaeological display and the relative concealment behind the heavy cases.

Minako was only a moment behind her, reaching concealment just as Makoto finished her transformation and shot to her feet.

"Venus Crystal," Jupiter heard Minako begin. then every sound was overwhelmed in a sudden shattering explosion.

Jupiter half turned, glimpsing for a moment Minako's lips moving as she completed her transformation phrase. Then a sudden blinding pillar erupted from the place in which Minako had been but a fractional instant before, and Jupiter heard her own voice scream.

Soaring, roaring with a thunderous howl, the golden column leapt up, punching straight through the steel and concrete of the roof of the hall as though they were nothing, the howl rising to a nerve-shattering scream, the very air seeming to turn to blazing fire in its wake as the screaming soared and waxed, until it seemed that it was all, and nothing else could be.

Stunned, half blinded and agonised, Jupiter stared stupidly at the maelstrom that should have been Venus's transformation. For one impossible moment, energy seemed to flare wildly around her, whilst at its roiling heart Jupiter thought she caught faint glimpses of Minako's writhing form, her body arched as though in agony, or rapture. Then, with a sickening tearing like tin-foil mixed with something horrible Jupiter never ever wanted to hear again, a fleeting something: a shadow, glimpsed but for a fractional instant, seemed to split from the surging vortex that was Venus, and Minako's voice screamed, a high keening sound: but of pain or pleasure or both, Jupiter could not tell.

Then it was gone, and the pillar was falling, plunging down and out; and Jupiter had but one instant to gape in stark, helpless terror, before it smashed into her, lifting her as though she weighed nothing, to send her hurtling up and away with the speed of a missile. Fortune alone saved her life, as the surging front of the blast smashed the glass and brickwork of the nearer side of the hall to powder, before sending her spiralling headlong into the screaming crowd. For a confused, giddying instant, lightning seemed to dance insanely about her as she whirled. Then something smashed into her from above, and the world exploded, disintegrating swiftly into tiny pin-points of brightness, until the blackness closed about her, and she knew no more.

* * *

"Oh Kami!"

Gaping, Mars stood transfixed, staring stupefied with Sailor Moon and Tuxedo Kamen as the youma literally exploded before their eyes, the shattering concussion pitching people headlong like leaves. Then they were leaping desperately clear as the front smashed the stand upon which they had been perched to kindling, and ploughed on, bringing down the ice-cream stand and too others before its energy was at last exhausted. Barely had it died when the rising thunder of a second explosion had them whirling, just in time to see the science hall erupt in a titanic pillar of golden light.

For a moment they froze, watching stupefied as people and debris were hurtled into the sky. Then the front struck them like a tsunami, and Mars found herself hurtling end over end, somehow impossibly held within the folds of Tuxedo Kamen's protective cape, while a sudden scream shrilled beside her: "It's burning! Oh Kami-sama! The Ginzuishou! It's BURNING!"

Mars turned her head, and her mouth opened in a silent rictus of terror as a light like the sun seemed to leap to engulf Sailor Moon at her side, her form blazing bright beyond endurance, before seeming to fracture, and dissolve before her eyes. She drew breath to scream; then they were slamming down upon the roof of another stand, and the dreadful illusion was gone as Sailor Moon's head came into sharp contact with her own, even as Tuxedo Kamen cried out in pain, having angled his body to take the worst of the impact.

For a moment, too stunned to move, Mars lay still. Then slowly she became aware of the near-silence that had taken the place of the thunderous noise of a moment before, a silence broken only by groans as people, impossibly unhurt in the twin blasts, dragged themselves dazedly to their feet and stared stupidly about, wondering how it was that they could still be alive, and thanking every god and goddess they could think of, before beginning to move slowly away. The festivities it seemed, were very definitely at an end.

"What…!" Was all Mars could manage, shivering from head to foot as she lay, still wrapped in Tuxedo Kamen's protective cape, uncertain as to whether she was imagining Moon's shaking at her side, or whether it was simply her own. "What happened!"

Tuxedo Kamen groaned softly, and shifted a little.

"Mars," he said quietly, his voice tightly controlled. "I don't wish to be discourteous, but do you think you might possibly refrain from moving on my arm? I don't think it will do the break much good."

"Mamoru!" she gasped, using his name in her agitation as she lurched convulsively into a sitting position. "Oh Kami; I'm sorry! How bad is it? Here, let me take Sailor Moon.

"Oy, Odango-Atama," she hissed, her voice far harsher than her anxious expression as she gathered her into her arms to lift her from atop Tuxedo Kamen's prone form. "Snap out of it, you baka! Tuxedo Kamen's hurt, and all you can do is lie there with your mouth open?"

"Uh…wha'?" sailor Moon moaned softly.

Then she groaned, and her eyes fluttered, trying for a moment to focus on Mars's face before turning to where Tuxedo Kamen lay.

"'nother fi' min'ts, Luna!" she muttered, still barely conscious. Then more clearly: "Darien? Wha'? Where?"

"Kami! Usagi; we haven't time for this!" Mars exclaimed with growing urgency, not comprehending the meaningless sounds she was making.

Tuxedo Kamen was trying to move, but another gasp of pain had Mars wondering whether a broken arm was the worst of his injuries.

For a moment, Sailor Moon remained, her eyes roving wildly. Then at a second cry from the prone form, she seemed to come at last to full awareness.

"Mars?" she gasped, her eyes fixing at last on Mars's increasingly agitated face. "Oh my head! What happened?"

"What!" Mars demanded, now frightened as well as anxious at the incomprehensible sounds. "Sailor Moon! Usagi! What are you babbling about?"

"What?" sailor Moon demanded in her turn, her eyes sharpening at last to fix intently on Mars's own, her expression suddenly confused and a little frightened. "Oosa-gee?"

And Mars saw: saw with the sudden certainty of the sight she possessed; and suddenly she was on her feet, her eyes blazing as she glared down at the thing before her: the horrible, unnatural thing in Sailor Moon's form.

"Who…what are you?" she hissed, the power already gathering in her hands, ready to send this abomination to oblivion.

"What!" sailor Moon gasped, her eyes widening in sudden horror as she gazed helplessly at the sudden death in the eyes of her friend. "Mars…Raye! It's me! Sailor Moon! What's the matter with you? It's Serena!"

And Mars snarled, and let loose the fire.

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Notes:

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And that's that one out of the way. ^_^ Like Ch. 2, this was much more a general improvement than a complete rewrite. The main difference is the shift in emphasis and tremendously improved definition for the DK survivors, something that becomes very important later on.

The one problem, I believe, is the beginning; it still seems ridiculously melodramatic, but it's definitely a hell of a lot better than it was. Still, hopefully one more edit should do it, when I'm in the right frame of mind.

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