Usagi hugged the wall, keeping her breathing shallow, willing her pounding heart to slow. The room was pitch black and silent except for the low hum that beckoned her onward. Soft and smooth as a shadow, she peeled herself away from the wall and tiptoed across the cold tile floor. Her confidence swelled with a heady rush of adrenaline as she neared her goal. Low, fluid strides carried her to the door with practiced grace. She grasped the handle and tugged it open. Light spilled forth from within…
"Aha!"
Abruptly, the overhead lights clicked on, revealing the queen standing in the doorway. Usagi froze like a rabbit in the headlights. Serenity looked down at her daughter with an expression of triumphant glee far less dignified than the regal visage she presented to the world during daylight hours. "So you're the one who's been raiding the refrigerator! At first I blamed Endymion when my chocolate pudding started disappearing overnight, but now I know the true culprit!"
Usagi shrank back, eyes darting about in search of an escape, but her mother had blocked the only exit. There was only one way out…
She snatched a plate of cookies and held it up like an offering to an angry god. "Want some?"
Serenity knew she ought to remain firm. She ought to punish this un-princess-like indiscretion. If she didn't remain a strong disciplinarian, Endymion certainly wasn't going to. She must instill in her daughter the virtues of temperance, and self-control, and boy did those cookies smell good…
She caved. "Oh, all right. Pour us some milk."
They perched on stools at the island bar in the center of the kitchen, with the platter of chocolate chip cookies and an unspoken vow of secrecy between them. Usagi took a stack of three and promised herself that was all she was going to eat… maybe. Serenity broke off small bits so she wouldn't have to count. Once again the hum of the refrigerator was the only sound in the room, other than the occasional slurp or suppressed giggle.
After a while, Serenity noticed that her daughter was staring into space, half of her seventh cookie dangling between her fingertips. "What's on your mind?" she queried, propping her elbows on the table in a manner quite reminiscent of her blond-haired past self.
"Do you remember Perle?" Usagi asked, her eyes still distant.
"Ah, yes. Who could forget?" Serenity's mind, too, drifted back to the summer before she entered high school…
~*~
For a moment, Mamoru thought a woodpecker was hammering on his doorbell. He sighed and set down his book. The ringing grew more insistent as he crossed the hall to open the door, and in spite of himself he smiled. There were only two people in this world who would be that desperate to see him, and only one of them was impatient enough to make such a scene.
He scarcely got the door halfway open before Usagi barged in. Her cheeks were flushed with exertion, and her golden hair was a frizzy mess. Had she run all the way here? He tensed with worry. Something must be terribly wrong to upset her this much…
"Has that annoying brat been here yet?" she demanded. Even as she spoke she was looking over his shoulder, searching his apartment.
She shouldn't even be concerned, really. Surely Chibi-Usa couldn't have beaten her here. She remembered passing her on the street. But the kid was crafty, and Usagi knew from past experience that it was a mistake to underestimate her.
Mamoru tried not to look as exasperated as he felt. He should have known this was the cause of his girlfriend's fervor. Few things got her as riled up as her "rivalry" with the pink-haired youngster. He couldn't understand how she could feel threatened by a little girl's affection toward him. Usagi knew he loved her, and Chibi-Usa was their daughter, for goodness' sake.
"You shouldn't talk about her like that," he admonished.
That was a mistake. She blanched in horror, and her lip began to quiver. For a second he was afraid she might burst into tears.
Deep down, Usagi knew she was acting foolish. She knew Mamoru only coddled Chibi-Usa because she was a child. She shouldn't expect him to baby her, a grown woman, that way—in fact, she would have felt insulted if he did. But once in a while (okay, maybe a little more than once in a while) she needed a sign, something to let her know that she had a place in his heart that belonged to her and no one else. And it was frustrating that he didn't seem to notice… or worse, maybe he didn't care.
She seized his hand, azure eyes blazing with sudden ferocity. "Mamo-chan! Who do you like better? Me, or Chibi-Usa?"
A sinking feeling settled in Mamoru's stomach as he realized that this was one of those questions that got a man in trouble no matter how he answered. He knew Usagi was just seeking reassurance. But to tell her what she wanted to hear, he would have to look at Chibi-Usa as a woman. And that simply did not compute.
A spicy aroma wafting up from Usagi's school bag saved him. "Did you bring cookies?" he asked.
Usagi perked up, not realizing that his excitement was more at having found a way to change the subject than at the prospect of eating her baking. "Yup! I baked them just for you."
"Great. I'll go make some coffee." He flicked on the television to keep her entertained, then bolted for the kitchen before she could remember the question she'd asked him. Usagi reached over to change the channel to her favorite anime.
But the story on the news made them both freeze in their tracks. "In an apparent mass kidnapping, nearly a hundred children disappeared from their homes last night," the anchor reported in grim tones. "All of the disappearances occurred within a five kilometer radius around the Minato Ward. Police have not yet identified any suspects or any possible motive. For Channel 8 news, this is Souga Ushio reporting."
They looked at each other, coffee and cookies and petty rivalries forgotten. "Chibi-Usa…"
~*~
For once in the history of the Sailor Team, Usagi was the first to show up to a senshi meeting.
The girls clustered in a tight ring beneath a tree at the far end of the park. To a distant observer, it might have seemed they were enjoying a picnic on this warm early spring day, but within the circle the atmosphere was anything but relaxed. Even perpetually-optimistic Minako wore a solemn expression as she briefed Ami, Rei, and Makoto on the situation.
The knowledge that children were disappearing all over the city was sobering in itself. But even worse for the senshi was the fact that it had occurred right under their noses.
"I should have said something," Rei berated herself. "I've been having a strange premonition for days."
"It's not your fault, Rei-chan," Usagi assured her, but the dejected priestess hardly looked convinced. Usagi would say that no matter what happened.
Minako cut right to the heart of the issue. "We've got to get to the bottom of this case, and fast. Here, take a look at this." She spread a wrinkled map out on the ground. It was marked with dozens of red x shapes. "These are the places where abductions occurred. See the pattern?"
The others squinted at the amorphous cloud of red ink and slowly shook their heads.
Minako's head drooped in defeat. "Drat. Neither do I."
Rei and Makoto groaned.
"Well, it doesn't hurt to collect data in hopes that a pattern might emerge," Ami reasoned.
Minako pulled a bundle of newspaper clippings out of her bag. "I've been gathering information on the victims as well. Boys and girls, all under eighteen, most under twelve. They came from all different backgrounds. There was one thing I did notice a lot, though. When their friends and family described them, they usually said they were creative, lovers of fantasy, dreamers."
"Dreamers, hmm?" Makoto murmured thoughtfully.
Usagi checked her watch and frowned. "I'm worried about Chibi-Usa walking home by herself. Sorry, but would you mind if I left early today?"
The others nodded. "I think it would be a good idea if one of us always escorts her until we figure this thing out," Rei suggested.
Usagi gave them a weak smile. "Thanks, you guys." She waved goodbye and hurried away toward the elementary school.
~*~
Chibi-Usa peered into the darkened window of the candy shop, rosebud lips curved in a disappointed pout. Why were they closed in the middle of the day?
"The owner's son was kidnapped, and he's closing the store down until he's found," someone explained, as if reading her thoughts. Startled, she turned to see Perle standing behind her. Once again there was something strange about his tone, analytical curiosity where there should have been sympathy.
"H-hello, Perle-kun," she stammered, clutching suddenly sweaty hands behind her back. Today, for some reason, he made her feel jittery. She blinked hard and reminded herself that jitters were unladylike.
He gave her a sunny smile. "I'm glad to see you again, Chibi-Usa-chan."
"Um… did you like my cookies?" she asked in an awkward attempt to make conversation.
Perle nodded, indicating a bag tied around his waist. "They're delicious. I ate them for breakfast and lunch!"
"Those are special cookies," Chibi-Usa proclaimed, with the wide-eyed certainty of childish wisdom. "They were baked with all my love for my darling Mamo-chan! One bite will fill you with power and courage!"
Perle chuckled. "I'll save them for important times, then." He paused and frowned. "But is it really okay for me to eat your boyfriend's cookies?"
"That is… Mamo-chan isn't exactly my boyfriend," Chibi-Usa mumbled, shuffling her feet. "A-anyway! Let's go for a walk!"
They strolled together along the row of quaint little shops, boutiques and European-style cafés. This section of town was a world apart from the bustling, gridlocked streets of downtown Tokyo or the prim, manicured condominiums of Juuban. In this place colors spilled over one another, pastel walls and painted doors blurring together in a hazy rainbow. Here ivy climbed over an old brick fence, there a window box overflowed with flowers, over there a stone fountain shaped like a hummingbird sprinkled crystalline streams into a basin with a pleasant little bubbling sound. It was like walking around inside a watercolor painting from one of Chibi-Usa's old picture books. She wandered aimlessly, sometimes following Perle, sometimes leading, freed for a short while from all her cares and troubles. The loneliness of being separated from her parents, the burden of fighting as a sailor soldier, the difficulties of living with Usagi, and the various and sundry worries of everyday life all seemed very far away, and she felt that she might remain ten years old forever, here with him in their own private wonderland.
Wait, that wasn't right. She was already 902 years old.
"Hey, Chibi-Usa-chan. What's your dream?" Perle asked suddenly.
She pondered for a few seconds. "I have lots of dreams. But number one is to become a grown-up lady."
Perle nodded slowly. "It would be nice," he said, "if there could be a world where everyone's dreams were granted."
Chibi-Usa agreed. "So what's your dream, Perle-kun?"
He seemed surprised, as if no one had ever asked him that before. "My dream? Well, I guess…" He paused, thinking hard. "I guess it's to create that world."
Chibi-Usa regarded him with curious admiration. His gray eyes were far away, fixed on his vision of the future, and he seemed in that moment quite noble and sublime.
"You'd better start eating those cookies, then!" she exclaimed. "You're going to need all the power and courage you can get."
Perle laughed out loud. Soon Chibi-Usa was laughing too, without either of them knowing why.
"Chibi-Usa-chan!" a breathless shout rang out from down the road. The two children turned to see an exhausted Usagi chasing them. "Don't… run off… alone like that!" she scolded between gulps of air. "It's dangerous for a kid to walk around by herself!"
Chibi-Usa crossed her arms and muttered something about Usagi being bossy.
It was then that Usagi noticed that Chibi-Usa was not, in fact, by herself. "Ah, hello there!" she greeted Perle, bending down to his eye level. "I'm Tsukino Usagi." She looked from him to Chibi-Usa, her smile fading. "Aren't you a little young to date?"
Chibi-Usa turned scarlet. "This is my friend, Perle," she explained.
"Uh-huh."
"Really! We're just friends! Perle-kun, tell her we're just friends!"
Perle confirmed this, to Usagi's immense relief and slight disappointment. Chibi-Usa struggled to compose herself.
"Are you Chibi-Usa-chan's mother?" Perle asked.
Both girls shook their heads vigorously. Usagi launched into their well-rehearsed explanation, that Chibi-Usa was her cousin visiting from another city.
"What are you doing, Perle?" a sharp voice interrupted.
A skinny, reptilian man with narrow, slanted eyes approached them. He wore a spectacularly ugly yellow pinstripe zoot-suit that seemed to clash with every feature of his face, most notably the shock of bright green hair poking from beneath his matching yellow beret. Had he a more pleasant demeanor, it might have seemed flamboyant enough to cross the line into artful. At the moment, his tight-lipped sneer was anything but. Chibi-Usa instinctively clutched at Usagi's hand.
"Sorry, Banane," Perle stuttered. "I was just meeting some, uh, friends." He looked up at the strange man with fearful, pleading eyes, like a beaten dog.
Banane's head swiveled to look at Usagi, and the smile he gave her was unpleasant as his frown. "I see."
Without so much as a greeting, he spun on his heel and walked away. "Come, Perle."
"I have to go," Perle said with an apologetic bow. "Take care, Chibi-Usa-chan."
As quickly as he had arrived, he was gone.
~*~
"Looking back, I think that was when I started to sense there was something strange about Perle," Usagi reflected, her scarlet eyes still clouded with memory. "I wonder where he is now."
Serenity hesitated, searching for the gentlest way to break what she suspected was the truth. From Usagi's perspective it seemed like their encounter with Perle had been only a few years ago, but for him, almost a millennium had passed.
"How long do fairies live?" she asked, the question mostly rhetorical.
It pained her to watch her daughter's face as the sad realization settled on her. "I don't know," Usagi sighed. She slipped into pensive silence, head drooping until her face was hidden behind a curtain of pink hair.
Just as the queen was trying to form words of comfort, she lifted her face again, her jaw set with stubborn optimism. "I don't know, but they're magical beings, so anything is possible, right?" She nodded in reply to herself. "Right."
Serenity decided it was best to let her believe that. Both of them reached for another cookie, and the silence was comfortable once more.
"This makes me feel like a teenager again." Serenity murmured.
"You do seem more… Usagi-like lately," a voice echoed from the doorway.
The queen and princess both lurched, then exhaled in relief when they saw that the intruder was Luna.
The black cat padded over to the table, shaking her head in dismay. "At first I blamed Artemis when the milk started disappearing overnight, but now I know the true culprits."
Usagi had a saucer ready. "Shall I pour you some?"
"No, thank you," Luna declined, knowing that if she allowed herself to indulge in the midnight snacking, she would be complicit, and then Artemis would never let her hear the end of it. She leapt up and settled comfortably in Serenity's lap. The queen scratched behind her ears, and she purred in spite of herself.
"You'd never have let her do this when she was younger," Luna remarked. In spite of her indignant air, Serenity thought she sounded more amused than critical.
"Back then, she didn't know any better. Now she knows better and does it anyway, which is a different thing entirely."
Usagi gulped the last of her milk and gave Luna a cheeky grin. The black cat shot her a look of searing disapproval, and she flushed. If Serenity was going to condone this behavior, so be it, but Luna expected at least a little diffidence from the pardoned sinner.
"In those early years I was so determined to be perfect," Serenity recalled. "When I saw everything we'd hoped for being realized, when I looked out at that beautiful crystal city, when I looked down at that beautiful little child in my arms… I was afraid. It felt like if I made one wrong move it would all vanish. I was always pushing myself."
"It wasn't all in your head," Luna said. "You had to deal with the Black Moon uprising and the Titan's Hammer Incident of 2377 and the second and third Larn Wars and the Kinmoku reconstruction effort, and oh, don't forget that massive riot in Osaka when all those people thought the world was going to end at the turn of the 25th Century…" She trailed off, feeling tension spread through her muscles at the mere memory of all the stress they'd been through.
Serenity chuckled at her harried advisor, who had unconsciously puffed out her fur to appear twice her normal size. "Oh, Luna. I never would have made it without you."
"Flatterer," Luna muttered, blushing.
"I'm not afraid anymore," Serenity said with a smile at Usagi. "This city and my daughter became everything I could hope for, and more."
Usagi's eyes dropped to the tabletop, doubt evident on her face. Hadn't she failed on her first mission as Sailor Moon? Hadn't her father's crystal been stolen on her watch? Now the entire kingdom was in danger because of her negligence… and they didn't even know it.
Sensing her distress, Serenity offered reassurance. "Endymion and I are worried, of course, but the Ginzuishou is enough to sustain us until you recover the Golden Crystal. We have faith in the new generation of sailor soldiers."
Then why don't you have enough faith in your people to tell them what's going on? Usagi thought. In the interest of maintaining peace at the table, she kept the barb to herself. There was no changing her mother's mind on that subject.
"However, I seem to recall that you once had a habit of eating too many snacks and sleeping late every morning," Luna reminded Serenity. "Both habits that you don't need to reinforce in your daughter."
A wicked gleam came into Usagi's eyes. "Mom, I think Luna needs a cookie."
The hairs on the back of Luna's neck rose as the two grinned at her. "Oh, no you don't!" she protested, backing away slowly. Her eyes darted back and forth as she made a desperate attempt to reason with the two, who were advancing on her with a pastry the size of her head. "All right, very funny. Usagi. Serenity! Now this is exactly the kind of behavior I'm talking abo—mmph!"
A mouthful of chocolatey goodness muffled the rest of her words.
~*~
The three Moirae siblings gathered before Petalite's heavy walnut desk in what had once been the office of some high-ranking executive at the factory that was now their headquarters. The room's obtuse grandeur suited Petalite's inflated ego perfectly. Her long nails drummed absently against the wooden surface as she listened to Pyrolusite's report on his latest tussle with the sailor senshi. Beside him, Ripidolite pretended to be bored while Calomel fidgeted in her leather chair.
"Although Carnelian did not succeed in her primary objective, I did accomplish something by this endeavor," Pyrolusite declared. His sisters made their doubt apparent, but he went on, "I have created an atmosphere of distrust among the senshi. They will constantly have to wonder if their teammates are real. Even if the two that escaped do manage to find their allies before they're killed, they will have trouble convincing one another of their loyalty."
Petalite's fingers stopped tapping, and the silence that followed was deafening. She let the boy sweat for a few seconds before she pronounced her judgment. "Good."
Pyrolusite's chest swelled with pride.
"Our orders from Moros are to prevent them from regrouping for as long as possible—that is to say, indefinitely, because I expect nothing less from the three of you. Can you mass-produce these cyborgs, Pyrolusite?"
"Androids," he corrected. "And yes. Now that I've perfected the design, it's nothing to reproduce her. I can easily vary her measurements to imitate any of the sailor senshi."
Calomel snickered. "What, you have their three-sizes?"
"You'd be amazed what you can find on the Internet," Ripidolite deadpanned.
Petalite stood, signifying the end of the discussion. "Very well. Go to it," she ordered. "Calomel, go with him. Since I hear you are so interested in your brother's research, you will assist him in testing their weapons systems."
It was clear that by "test" she meant "serve as a punching bag." Calomel knew the assignment was intended as a punishment for her secret training sessions with Carnelian, and grumbled against whichever of her traitorous siblings had ratted her out. Pyrolusite, for his part, knew he hadn't said a word (the mock battle had, after all, been his idea.) He shot Ripidolite a suspicious glare. Didn't she have her own operation to run? If anyone was going to get Calomel in trouble for interfering with his projects, it ought to be him. The green-haired woman answered him with an arrogant sneer. Gritting his teeth, he spun on his heel and stalked out, Calomel in tow.
After the two younger Moirae were gone, the third lingered for a private discussion with her superior. Petalite crossed the room to gaze out the shattered ruin of a window on the south wall.
"You disapprove of my methods, Ripidolite?" Beneath the query lurked a challenge.
"I disapprove of their incompetence," Ripidolite replied tersely. "I can't understand why you go to such great lengths to accommodate it. And I am not content to merely supervise their repeated failures."
Petalite's shoulders twitched in a contemning scoff. "You seem to think your brother's tactics are useful enough to borrow when it suits you."
Ripidolite's painted green lips hardened into a thin line as she found herself on the defensive. "The impersonation scheme was fairly clever," she conceded. "But he will always be limited by his lack of magical capabilities. That's why he's jealous of me. He builds his little machines, pretends he doesn't want it, even pretends to think his science is better than the power he'll never have."
She drew herself up tall, eyes widening with the fervor of unbridled ambition. Her hunger for power matched Petalite's own, but it was sharper, less refined, driven by the pounding frustration of youth. "My magic allowed me to conjure in minutes what took him months to build," she went on. "I took his idea and executed it more efficiently."
"Is that so?" Petalite's voice was silky smooth and dangerous. "My assessment is somewhat different. Pyrolusite's android took on three sailor soldiers at once, one of them a pre-Millennian veteran and arguably the most powerful in this system, and defeated them all. It would have succeeded in killing Sailor Moon if not for the untimely intervention of that caped fellow, and even with his help it took all their effort to bring her down." Petalite paused, locking eyes with her impudent daughter. "How many minutes did your golem last against an already injured Sailor Juno? Four? Maybe five?"
Ripidolite shrugged indifferently, like a sullen child refusing to admit her error. "I created it in five minutes. By my calculation, that's still more effective than his in terms of time invested."
Petalite shook her head patiently. "You will soon learn, Ripidolite, that a thing is best judged not by the time it takes to build it, but by the time it takes to destroy it. The empire of a thousand years can be swept away in a single afternoon. Humanity calls it great, but the memory of it fades after a single generation. Fate, too, unravels with the lightest tug. I care only for that which endures."
Ripidolite's only reply was to cross her arms with a soft "harrumph."
Petalite brought her hands together before her chest, the pads of her fingers brushing one another distractedly, and made a point of not looking at Ripidolite. "However, I suppose it would only be fair to offer you the same opportunity as those two. While the new androids are being prepared, I grant you this chance to prove yourself. Show me what you can do."
Ripidolite's eyes glittered eagerly. Dropping to one knee, she slammed her palm into the ground, and a green circle of light lined with occult symbols traced itself out before her.
"Jasper! Come forth!" she commanded.
Tendrils of green and purple energy sprouted from the glowing outline, coiled around one another, and knit themselves into something resembling a human form, except that it was around three meters tall and had a mane of leaves where there should have been hair. Petalite looked on in approval as the creature arose, bowed to them, and loped out the door without a word, intent on fulfilling the telepathic instructions its master had just issued: Locate and destroy Sailor Moon.
Ripidolite's creations had a kind of grotesque beauty that none of the other Moirae, not even Petalite herself, could replicate. She expected nothing less from her eldest. In spite of the harsh evaluation she'd had to give the girl, to remind her who was in charge, Petalite had no doubt that Ripidolite was the finest of her warriors. She had all of Calomel's inborn magical ability (and then some) and all of Pyrolusite's ruthlessness. But while Calomel fought for some petty, misguided sense of vengeance, and Pyrolusite saw the whole thing as a chance to use his toys, Ripidolite fought because she was a soldier and she had been ordered to. No questions, no remorse, no personal emotional investment. It was just what she did.
The green-haired woman emerged from her summoning trance and looked over at Petalite, expecting praise. Her superior graced her with a nod of acknowledgment. It was not quite commendation—that would only come after she brought back a sailor soldier's corpse.
"Very well. Dismissed," Petalite said, returning to her desk.
Ripidolite bowed and turned to leave, but paused at the door and came back. "Actually, I do have one more question." She leaned toward Petalite, dropping her voice to just above a whisper, and asked, "Why does Moros want to kill Sailor Moon?"
It was a simple inquiry, made without a hint of insubordination or doubt of their leader's competence. But it was unusual for Ripidolite to wonder about the motivation behind the objectives she was given. Petalite frowned. And told the truth.
"I don't know for certain. I presume it's because she wants the Silver Crystal. Queen Moros has assured us that fate will change if we can get it."
She glanced up at Ripidolite, wondering if she would explain her sudden curiosity. But the young warrior excused herself with a stiff nod and vanished down the darkened corridor.
~*~
It was a typical Thursday morning at Crystal Juuban Public School. Groggy students organized their books and nodded hello to one another as they trudged through the halls to their classrooms. At first, no one noticed the petite young woman with loose auburn curls who slipped in through the front door staggering under the weight of an oversized camera, her laptop, and an armful of overdue homework projects.
Then someone shouted out, "Miruki-chan!" and suddenly, the student body was wide awake.
Third years swarmed around their formerly missing classmate in a joyous knot, while everyone else gathered around the perimeter trying to see what was going on. A hundred voices at once asked what had happened to her and where she had been. Miruki kept her explanations brief, promising to give the full story in next month's edition of the school paper. Then Chino shoved his way through the crowd and threw himself on her in a crushing embrace, and for a while there were no more questions. Even the snobbish Aya looked on with a smile.
Amid the chorus of cheers and welcome-backs, Usagi and Hotaru exchanged puzzled glances. Finding no answers, they both shrugged and joined in the celebration.
~*~
When Hotaru exited the school building at the end of the day, Seresu was waiting for her. They walked together out the gates and down a tree-lined path toward the nearest rail station. Neither spoke until they were well out of earshot of the school.
"Were there any results from Mercury's tests on the robot?" Seresu asked.
Hotaru shook her head. "For the most part, they were inconclusive. It was unregistered, and the parts didn't look like anything from any manufacturer we know of. It seems to have been a completely custom job. Mercury didn't find the hard drive or sensory data-stream records. They were probably in the head, which was, as you know…"
"Missing," Seresu finished for her with a sigh. "It figures that the one piece that could tell us anything is the one our enemies managed to escape with."
"Actually," said Hotaru, "it's Pluto's analysis that interests me the most…"
Seresu gave her an inquisitive look. "Hmm?"
"Never mind. It was probably nothing," Hotaru said quickly, wishing she hadn't mentioned it. "There are too many people around to talk about this now," she added, as an excuse. They were indeed approaching the station, so Seresu chose not to press her.
They fell into a brooding silence. Hotaru wrestled with guilt for calling a meeting behind Usagi's back (the princess was caught up in some stuffy political function back at the palace, and would be stuck there for the rest of the evening.) She felt like she was deceiving Usagi, but there were certain issues that were easier to discuss without her around.
Namely, that Pegasus Kamen character.
A train glided to a stop at their platform. Seresu fished her Crystal Card out of her purse and got in line to board. Hotaru followed with a puzzled expression, noting that it was bound for Hachioji.
"We aren't going to your place?"
"Oh, I thought we could stop by Atena's place to pick her up and then head over to one of the little parks around there."
Hotaru turned pale, picturing how Seresu, the eternal neat freak, would react to the war zone that was the Itokuris' living room. "I-I'm not sure that's such a good idea. I mean, well, don't you think we should give her a call first?"
"Yes, yes, I'll call her as soon as we get off. But I'm quite curious to see her house. I've never been there before, you see, and she seems quite reluctant to have me over for whatever reason… So I figured I'd just drop by and have a peek!" Seresu said with an airy giggle.
Hotaru swallowed hard as they stepped aboard. This was not going to end well.
~*~
Juno crouched in the entrance of a private hovercar dock beneath the Shirokane Terrace Sankozaka apartments, scanning the street for her pursuers. She had to force her sore eyes to focus, and was rewarded with a pounding headache. A steady clicking of heels on pavement warned her that one of the golems was descending the staircase from the building above—probably the false Ceres, she guessed from its dainty gait. Moments later, the other, a false Pallas, emerged from a shrub-lined patio across the street. She had maybe ten seconds before they converged on her.
She shrank back into the shadows of the garage, waiting for the opportune moment. Lying in ambush like this wasn't her style, but after twelve solid hours of running, fighting, and more running, she would resort to whatever dirty tactic would buy her a few seconds to breathe. After her failed attempt to collar Pyrolusite, she had gone back to check on (the alleged) Sailor Pallas, but the girl had vanished. Since then, the imposter senshi had been attacking her non-stop. All of them were plant-creatures like the ones she'd encountered in Petalite's nightmare world, except that these were very real and disguised as her own dear teammates. While some attacked her outright, most approached her as allies, only to turn on her when they believed she'd let her guard down. They had driven her south as far as Takanawa in what had to be a coordinated effort. What should have been a thirty minute walk had instead taken her all night.
It had gotten to the point where the sight of her companions that had once filled her with joy now brought dread. She wondered how she would know the true senshi when she found them, how long she would have to wait for them to attack her before she could believe they were the real thing. An even darker thought followed that one: what if her real friends were already dead, replaced by these puppets? What if even the queen had been replaced? Were any of the people in this city real?
She squelched her pessimism and tried to concentrate. Weary muscles trembled painfully as she tensed, preparing to strike. At the critical moment, the two golems aligned in front of her. Praying that no one in the apartments was looking out the window, Juno unleashed her magic.
"Diamond Storm!"
A loud crack echoed up and down the street, and thunderbolt connected the golems in a brilliant, deadly chain. Their scorched bodies crumbled, and the smell of burnt weeds filled the air.
But luck was not on her side. A scream rang out from behind her, followed by a heavy thud. She glanced over her shoulder to see a pale, trembling woman backing away from her, the bag of groceries she'd been carrying spilled all over the ground. More shouts joined her from the apartments above. Ducking her head to hide her face, Juno fled. She knew her magic supposedly prevented her from being recognized, but she wasn't about to take any chances.
She couldn't stay out in the open. Casting one last worried glance back toward Hiroo Hospital, she darted into a narrow space between two buildings. Had Vesta been attacked too? For a split second she pondered going back to warn her, but her sense of duty insisted that she press onward and find the princess. Vesta could take care of herself.
Unarmed civilians, on the other hand, could not. Earlier she had contemplated taking a train—it would have made her journey much faster—but the golems were chasing her, and in spite of her urgent situation she wasn't going to lead them into a crowd of innocent people. Instead, she kept to the back streets and moved on foot.
She hurdled over fences and squeezed between hedgerows, following Highway 305 eastward. Ahead, a second-story balcony offered easy access to the roof. She leapt, caught the edge easily, and climbed up, and for a few minutes travel was much easier.
When she reached the district boundary she was forced to descend. Each residential section of Crystal Tokyo was divided and subdivided by massive, transparent, nearly impenetrable crystalline domes. This made defense and surveillance much easier, as each dome entrance could be monitored and sealed off to prevent intrusion or stop would-be criminals from escaping. In peacetime, which was most of the time, the top of the domes opened to let in air and rain. But even Juno couldn't jump that high.
She dropped to the ground and paused, listening for approaching footsteps. Hearing nothing, she made her way along the base of the dome to where a tall, arched gateway led out to an area of open forest. Its natural beauty was untouched in spite of the development around it; not even so much as a footpath disturbed the carpet of leaves. Towering, ancient trees obscured the sun. High above, a songbird whistled its melody and was answered in the distance by the rougher call of a crow. Juno slowed, savoring a moment of cool, peaceful silence.
Off to her right, a twig snapped. She whirled, searching for threats, and came face to face with another senshi. This time, she was certain at first glance that it wasn't friendly.
Because it was her.
The replica was disturbingly accurate. Whoever had created it knew her face down to the finest detail, and that fact was far more frightening than the immediate threat the golem presented. It was like looking into a mirror, except that her reflection wore a cruel, hungry sneer. Twin pairs of green eyes locked, and for a second, Juno lost herself. For a second, the monster was her.
"No!"
The harsh scream rising in her throat brought her back to herself. She threw a punch at the doppelganger's jaw. In true mirror-like fashion, it responded with an identical motion. Their knuckles collided with a jarring crack that made Juno's teeth rattle. The illusion of similarity melted away when the monster's fist split into twining green tendrils that wrapped around her hand with an iron grip. It took a swing at her, which she blocked, only to have it envelop her other hand. It pulled her in and kicked her in the chest. Juno crumpled. The monster picked her up and bashed her into a tree trunk.
Juno's vision blurred and darkened as unconsciousness threatened to take her. She tasted blood. The call of the crows overhead distorted into mocking, echoing laughter. But her opponent had made one fatal mistake: by seizing both her hands, it had offered her a completed circuit.
When touching a grounded enemy, Juno could easily deliver a fatal electric shock. With two points of contact, however, she had an even more terrifying ability. She could short-circuit her enemy's bio-electricity and channel the current into her sailor crystal—in essence, recharging her own batteries by draining someone else's life force. It was not something she liked to do, and was in fact dangerous to her if she absorbed too much. But in this circumstance, it seemed more than warranted.
Drawing on her last reserves of power, she reached out and found the connection. The monster shuddered, overcome with sudden weakness as its vital energy flowed into Juno. Its human disguise peeled away to reveal a mass of writhing vines.
"I am the Soldier of Bonds," Juno whispered, her voice shaking from exertion and the rapid influx of energy. "Your life belongs to me."
The monster stopped squirming and fell limp. Soon it had shriveled into a dry, black knot of plant matter.
Juno stood, feeling rejuvenated, and wiped her face on her glove. Her physical aches and fatigue were still there, but the deeper weariness that came from overtaxing her crystal had abated. Urging her feet into a jog once more, she made her way north toward Chiyoda.
~*~
"Unbelievable!"
Seresu repeated that word over and over as she took in the catastrophe before her. The apartment was, if possible, in even worse shape than the last time Atena's friends had visited. The carpet was still damp, and mildew had invaded the walls.
Atena cringed beneath Seresu's criticism. "This is why I didn't want you to—"
"How did you let it get to this point!" Seresu's shrill cry interrupted her. "This is shameful! How can you live like this? Your poor mother!"
"Most of this is her mess!" Atena protested.
"Do I hear someone talking about me?" Mrs. Itokuri's singsong voice called from the bedroom. She scurried out to meet them with a sunny smile. "Hi, guys! Great to see you." She spotted newcomer, and her grin broadened. "You must be Seresu-chan! Atena's told me all about you."
Worry flickered in Seresu's rose-hued eyes. She often exchanged gossip about other people, but rarely considered that they might talk about her. Judging from Mrs. Itokuri's cheerful tone, Atena hadn't said anything bad. Or was that a forced smile? No, she decided. There was no way naïve, pure-hearted Atena would go trying to ruin her reputation behind her back. She wasn't capable of such meanness.
Was she?
"It's good to see you too, Itokuri-san. We just came by to visit Atena, and—" Hotaru began.
"We're going to help you clean this house!" Seresu declared suddenly. "From top to bottom! Until it sparkles! May we borrow a mop and bucket, please?"
With a slow nod, Atena's mother pointed to their hall closet. Before either of her friends had a chance to object, Seresu retrieved the mop and thrust it into Hotaru's hands, then started giving out orders. "Hotaru-chan, you're in charge of the floors. Atena-chan, find a bag and start picking up this trash! I'm going to hang this rug out to dry…"
Mrs. Itokuri stared in wonder. Her eyes grew misty. "She's an angel from heaven!" she sighed, gazing adoringly at Seresu.
She's an ogre, Atena and Hotaru thought in unison.
~*~
Three hours later, the kitchen and living room were finally starting to look inhabitable. Most of the old junk mail and school papers had, over Atena's objections, been thrown out. The floors were spic and span thanks to Hotaru, the walls were scrubbed thanks to Atena, the stove was de-greased (Hotaru), the dishes were washed (Hotaru) and put away (Atena.)
Just what had Seresu been doing?
Their taskmaster was, at the moment, following Atena as the other girl dusted and pointing out any spots she missed. Hotaru, who was sitting on the living room floor sorting trinkets into boxes, watched her with growing agitation. It was true that she was coordinating Atena and Hotaru's efforts, but she wasn't putting in much of her own. Nevertheless, she was getting all the credit in the eyes of their host.
"Seresu-chan!" Mrs. Itokuri warbled. She emerged from the kitchen bearing a plateful of cherry tarts. "I baked a little something to thank you for all your help today."
Hotaru tried not to roll her eyes.
Mrs. Itokuri served Seresu first, then offered tarts to the other girls. Atena gobbled one greedily, but Hotaru politely refused, saying she wasn't hungry. Atena promptly ate hers too.
"Please come back any time you like!" Mrs. Itokuri offered.
"Bribery," Atena muttered around a mouthful of cherries. "Sweet, delicious bribery."
Hotaru grumbled softly and returned to trying to decide whether an engraved seashell belonged in "keepsakes" or "Mama's nature collection."
The phone rang, and Atena's mother skipped off to answer it. Still munching on her dessert, Seresu crossed the room to sit beside Hotaru, and Atena followed. "You'll have to forgive me for distracting us," Seresu said. "What do you say we go out to dinner and get to the real purpose of this meeting?"
Flighty and obsessive as she could be, Seresu would never shirk her duty as a sailor soldier. And when she finally got down to business, she was as dedicated as they came. Hotaru had to give her that much credit.
She nodded. "Let's head to the Glass Hour. My treat."
~*~
Princess Usagi Lady Serenity walked with measured strides, following exactly four paces behind her mother. The click of her heels on the glassy floor echoed through the vaulted corridor, and the unique acoustics of the vaulted crystalline ceiling transformed the sound into something almost musical. She had a love-hate relationship with those heels. On one hand, they made her look taller and so very mature. On the other, she now had two blisters on each foot and her knees were killing her. It was just her luck that she had gym class in the morning, too.
Ahead, Neo Queen Serenity made light conversation with an ambassador from Mnemosyne, pointing out various features of the palace as they walked. The ambassador, a thin woman with a narrow, pinched face and muted violet hair that fell in soft curls to her shoulders, maintained an air of polite interest and let Serenity do most of the talking.
The ultimate purpose of this tour, and the dinner that was to follow, was to persuade the Mnemosyneans to join the Millennium Stars Alliance, an interplanetary assembly dedicated to maintaining peace and stability across the stars. The Alliance had begun as a pact between Earth, Kinmoku, and a few other systems, and had since expanded to include hundreds of planets. Mnemosyne and its sister planet Lethe, once conquered, broken worlds ruled by one of the galaxy's worst dictators, had finally found freedom and relative stability. It was perhaps not surprising that their people now approached the idea of any allegiance to an outside governing body with extreme caution.
"Many of our people are eager to join the Millennium Stars Alliance. But many more are afraid," the ambassador said. Her voice had a light, soothing quality, and she carried herself with gentle dignity that commanded respect without inspiring fear. She was true lady, Usagi thought.
"We do not distrust you personally," she added hastily, "but we are wary of the idea. Of what such an organization could become, if it were to turn corrupt."
Serenity nodded. "I have heard that some refer to it as the 'Silver Galactica.'"
The ambassador's mint-green eyes widened in apprehension. The epithet was indeed being tossed around in the Lethean media, but she had hoped it had not reached Serenity's ears. "I assure you, Your Highness, that the reasonable citizens of Mnemosyne do not use that term. We trust you and the people of Earth, of course. But… if another Soldier of Destruction came to power…"
The look Serenity gave her was not of anger, but reassurance. "We completely understand your concerns," she said, her voice full of compassion. "I believe that if we all work together and learn to believe in one another, we will be able to prevent another tragedy like the Shadow Galactica Wars. It is for precisely this reason that the Millennium Stars Alliance is so important."
Like its spiritual predecessor, the United Nations (which had collapsed at the start of the 21st century during the conflict that led to the rise of Crystal Tokyo,) the Alliance was founded on the hope of peace, the hope that Galaxia's attempted conquest had been the war to end all wars and there would never be another such crisis. Also like its predecessor, the Alliance had yet to fully realize its vision. Squabbles often broke out between its members, occasionally escalating into armed combat in spite of their attempts at mediation. Even when they did resolve things peacefully, they were often criticized for interfering in affairs that were none of their business. How were these delegates in their ivory tower supposed to understand the cultural intricacies of a planet a hundred light-years away, a world whose surface they had never walked on, a people whose language their vocal cords likely weren't even capable of producing? Who did they think they were?
And yet, those same critics had been willing enough to accept aid from the Alliance during those first rough centuries after Galaxia was defeated. Thanks to their help, countless planets had been saved that would otherwise have been wiped out by war and famine. If they never accomplished anything else, if the wars never ended, that alone would have made the whole endeavor worthwhile. Serenity believed that, no matter what the cynics said.
The wars will not end, spoke a voice from her memory. A child's voice, hardened with desolate resolve that contradicted her youth. A child who was not young at all.
Even so, her heart replied.
They reached the end of the hall and paused before a pair of tall doors. Serenity pressed her palm to a panel in the frame, and they slid apart to reveal a spacious, well-lit chamber. Paintings hung in golden frames on the walls, and sculptures of every size were displayed on prismatic glass pedestals throughout.
"One of our art galleries," the queen said, making a sweeping gesture with her arm in true tour-guide fashion. "Usagi, if you would show our guest around?"
Usagi stepped forward on cue. Art was one of her favorite subjects, and the queen was giving her this chance to shine. She showed the ambassador several pieces by their own Princess Neptune, as well as gifts commissioned by foreign leaders as tokens of goodwill. Proudly on display among the masterpieces was a small, lumpy clay teacup made by Usagi when she was five years old. She tried to pass it by, but Serenity did not hesitate to point it out, making her blush up to her ears in humiliation. The ambassador laughed for the first time since the tour started, and the mood lightened considerably.
"And this one is called 'The Miracle.'" Usagi indicated a sculpture of bluish mineral that depicted an idealized, nondescript sailor senshi holding aloft a star-shaped wand. Highly polished, with flowing, graceful lines, the statue seemed to move as they walked around it. "It was a gift to us from the Larnian Planetary Council, in celebration of the many years of peace and friendship between our peoples."
The ambassador made an effort to smooth her features. "Ah, yes. The planets of the Larn System are also a members of the MSA, are they not?"
The inhabitants of that particular system (and particularly its fourth planet, Phidara) were not well liked by their neighbors. In fact, they were not well liked by anyone at all, with Earth as a tentative exception. Their inclusion in the Alliance had been controversial at best. Serenity did her best to exude wisdom and confidence. "The Alliance upholds the principle of extending a hand of fellowship to all systems who agree to abide by its rules."
The ambassador seemed to accept this, but all traces of laughter had vanished from her eyes. Usagi swallowed hard, suddenly feeling that she'd made a mistake. She should have been more tactful in her description of the statue, or maybe she should never have pointed it out.
But her mother gave her a dazzling smile that told her not to be afraid. "Thank you, Usagi. Moving right along…"
Serenity and the ambassador continued out of the gallery and on toward the king's Royal Planetarium, embroiled in discussion about just what the Alliance's rules were, but Usagi lingered, entranced by the statue. She was certain now that it was meant to be Sailor Moon. The artist had reconstructed her image from fragments of legend, ancient tales of the powerful, invincible soldier who long ago had sacrificed herself in the Galaxy Cauldron to save the universe. No one knew her name anymore. No one knew that she had once been a starry-eyed, clumsy schoolgirl from Azabu-Juuban. No one knew, though rumors whispered, that she was the very same Neo Queen Serenity who watched over the planet to this day.
The queen preferred it that way. If people knew, they might worship her (more than they did already), and she would rather have friends than followers. But every once in a while, her daughter wished she could share the whole story. She wanted to point up at the statue of the legendary "Messiah" and tell the world "That's my mom!"
Usagi was so lost in thought that at first she didn't notice when the light fled from the room. She didn't notice the cloaked form that materialized behind the statue. It was not until the doors snapped shut, plunging the room into pitch darkness, that she realized something was very wrong.
Terror gripped her and she froze in place. A soft glow caught her eye, dancing around the edges of the statue. Moments later, a man emerged. The flickering light seemed to emanate from him, throwing weird shadows on the folds of his violet cloak. His face was covered by a white silk mask, but she could see the pair of golden eyes behind it. She would know those eyes anywhere.
Aether. Immediately her hand flew to the transformation brooch hidden in the bodice of her gown. He saw her intention and held up a hand for her to stop—whether the gesture was supposed to be calming or commanding, she wasn't sure. She didn't feel obliged to honor either.
"There's no need. I'm only here to talk." He spoke in a whisper, but whatever magic produced the strange light also amplified the sound until it filled the chamber with a dreamlike echo. Surely her mother and the ambassador must hear it. Any minute they would come back to check on her, and then… what?
Logic told her that for the ambassador to witness a security breach in their palace would destroy any good impression they had made today. A deeper sense told her that she did in fact need to talk to Aether alone.
At the moment, however, Usagi only had one thing to say to him. "Give back my father's crystal."
With infuriating calm, he shook his head in refusal. "I don't have it with me," he replied. "As I said before, it will be returned to you in due time."
"What exactly does due time mean?" Usagi demanded to know.
Rather than answer, Aether turned to contemplate the statue. The uneven light made the figure appear to come to life once again, but this time instead of moving gracefully it seemed to writhe in a hellish dance.
"Let me tell you a story," he said at length.
He took her seething silence as an invitation to continue. And against her will, Usagi found herself drawn into his tale.
"Once upon a time, there was a fair maiden. She had a strong and virtuous will, and a heart overflowing with kindness, and everyone adored her. A certain man fell in love with this maiden. But their love was not meant to be, for their world was fated for destruction."
"I know a story like that…" Usagi breathed. She was, of course, speaking of the tragedy of Princess Serenity and Prince Endymion. She knew how that one ended: with betrayal, sorrow and a glorious kingdom reduced to rubble. And everyone died.
"However, there was one way to save the world," Aether went on, his voice rising, and Usagi's heart followed in a swell of desperate hope. He had ensnared her emotions.
He's an enemy, she reminded herself. She couldn't let him have any hold over her, even if it was just a story.
He had paused, waiting. This was part of his game, she realized, a way to keep her hanging on his every word, making her ask for more. But oh, the suspense was killing her. She had to know.
"How?" she asked.
"One of them, the man or the maiden, must die upon the other's sword."
The cruel pronouncement struck Usagi as if a blade had been shoved through her own heart. He had offered her hope that there was another way, that this legend might end better than the sad one she knew, but then, just when that glimmer of optimism had made her vulnerable, he had taken her heart and crushed it with one sentence. Instead, he presented her with something even more agonizing than loss: an impossible choice.
Aether's tone was bitter as he finished the story. "The man spent many sleepless nights wondering what he should do. But at last he decided that he loved the world more than he loved the maiden. And so, he became her enemy."
All this time, he had been gazing up at the nameless statue. Now he spun to face her, a sudden movement that made her jump. "Do you think that man was cruel?" he asked, abruptly emotionless. He reminded her of a literature teacher who, after finishing a reading of a dramatic passage, snapped back to calm detachment in an instant and asked her to analyze the text. He had all the answers, knew every line and passage and the significance of each. Most importantly, he knew the ending.
"No, I wouldn't call him cruel," she said, and was pleased to note that Aether's brows shot up in surprise. So she'd caught him off guard. Strengthened by that knowledge, she spoke louder. "Not cruel, but foolish, for thinking he had to make that choice."
"But he knew," Aether reminded her patiently. "One of them had to die in order to save the world. It would be foolish for him to love her, knowing that."
"How did he know? Who told him so?" Usagi challenged. The apprehension she had felt when she first saw him was gone, swept away in the hushed fervor of their debate.
"Fate decreed it," Aether said, growing addled.
Usagi drew herself up in defiance. "I refuse to believe that fate is more powerful than love." Her parents were living proof that love could conquer anything. Otherwise, she would never have been born.
A marked shift in power had taken place. Now she was the one with the answers, and Aether was growing defensive.
"She might not have returned his feelings," he pointed out. "If he was in a one-sided love, it would be better for him to die than to risk everyone else's lives."
Usagi was taken aback. It would be better for him to die? How could Aether say that so easily about anyone, even if that person was just a character in a story? Was he really that heartless?
She thought hard, and at last she replied, "It doesn't matter. Even if she didn't return his feelings, even if they couldn't change fate, if he really loved her, he should have told her the truth."
Aether backed away from her, eyes narrowed to golden slits.
"Prepare yourself, Sailor Moon," he warned. His voice was sharp and cold, but beneath the harsh edge was a hint of a tremor. "Next time we meet, it will be in battle."
The doors opened with a rush of air, the lights came on overhead, and the world was temporarily lost in a flash of light. When she looked again, Aether was gone.
~*~
The crowd at the Glass Hour was thinner than usual. Seresu, Atena, and Hotaru had no trouble finding privacy in an isolated booth along the far wall. The girls settled in and placed their orders. When they were sure no one was in earshot, they bent their heads together.
"So," said Seresu.
"So," said Hotaru.
Atena did not skirt the issue. "What do you guys think of Pegasus Kamen?"
"I don't trust him at all," Hotaru declared.
Seresu's response, though tempered with politeness, was similar.
"He shows up whenever he feels like it. He's always hiding behind that mask. We don't know his real name—he wouldn't even tell us his alias until we forced him." Hotaru crossed her arms, glaring at a mental image of the mysterious stranger.
"How do you know that's not his real name?" Atena pointed out.
Hotaru gave her a look. "Does 'Pegasus Kamen' sound like a real name to you?"
Atena shrugged. "People are naming their kids all kinds of weird stuff ever since they lifted the jinmeiyou kanji regulations."
"Which I think is ridiculous," Seresu huffed. "Did you know there was a couple who named their daughter 'concubine'? How completely inappropriate! Can you imagine what that's going to do to her self-esteem—"
"Let's focus, please," Hotaru reminded them.
Seresu cleared her throat. "Right. Pegasus Kamen. That name does make me wonder. Hotaru-chan, do you put any stock in the theory that he is the priest of Elysion in disguise?"
After a pause, Hotaru shook her head slowly. "Other than the obvious Pegasus connection, I don't see many similarities. From what I remember of Helios, he was a gentle, humble person. This guy is a cocky Tuxedo Kamen wannabe. And…" She hesitated, wondering if she should share her next thought. "I think Usagi doesn't see how suspicious he is because she's a little bit infatuated with him. She's seeing what she wants to see, and what she wants to see is her childhood sweetheart turned knight in shining armor. The name certainly isn't helping."
Seresu agreed. "It's understandable, really. On the surface, he fits the profile. He did come to our rescue last time…"
"Carnelian rescued us too, right before she tried to kill us. We can't let our guard down," Hotaru insisted. "I don't think we can treat him as an ally."
In a display of worldly wisdom that her friends had not expected, Atena nodded in agreement. "It's hard to trust him when he doesn't seem to want to work together."
"Then how do we treat him?" Seresu asked. "We have enough enemies without trying to make new ones."
"Let's call him a wild card," Atena suggested. "He's helping us now, so why not let him? If he turns against us, we'll deal with it when the time comes."
"I don't like this," Seresu sighed. "Not having a plan."
"Neither do I, but I think it's the best we can do for now," Hotaru said. Her purple eyes glinted dangerously. "But if that guy even thinks of laying a hand on Usagi—"
She broke off as a waiter glided over to the table. He set a tray of drinks before them with a flourish: an iced tea for Hotaru, a virgin daiquiri for Seresu, and a glass of chocolate milk for Atena.
Seresu regarded the drinks with a puzzled frown. "Pardon me, but I don't believe we ordered these."
The man gave her a glib smile. "They're gifts from the owner. Thanks for your frequent patronage." He was gone in a twinkling, before they could ask any questions.
While Atena sipped happily, Hotaru brooded over her glass. She looked across at Seresu and saw the same uneasiness on the other girl's face. Both sensed that this was not a simple courtesy, but a silent message. They were being watched.
~*~
Starlight sparkled through the translucent walls of the Crystal Palace, casting tiny rainbows on the meeting room below. The tour and banquet with the Mnemosynean diplomat had concluded without incident, and she was preparing to depart. Serenity invited her to stay the night in one of their guest rooms, but she declined. Accustomed as she was to her planet's 46-hour days, to her it still felt like mid-afternoon.
"Your Majesties are fair and generous. We cannot thank you enough for your hospitality," the purple-haired woman adulated during the round of compliments that followed dinner. Crossing one foot in front of the other, she bent her knees and dipped her head to Serenity and Endymion while sweeping one arm outward in a ballet-like pose, the traditional bow of her people. The pair of bodyguards that flanked her made a more subdued version of the motion.
"Were it up to me, we would join your Alliance without hesitation," she said. "As you know, we cannot act without approval from the Lethean consul, and that may be… difficult to obtain. However, I believe that after they hear everything you have told me today, we will be able to work something out."
Serenity smiled. "Then we will be looking forward to seeing you again."
A technician in a starched blue and white uniform entered the room. "We've resolved the teleport coordinates," he reported. "Whenever you're ready, Ma'am."
The ambassador thanked him and exchanged her final goodbyes with the king and queen. Bowing once more, she departed.
When she was gone, Usagi turned to her parents. The look on her face told them at a glance that there was a problem.
"Something happened today that I think you should know about," she began.
She told them about her encounter with Aether, how he had slipped through their defenses unnoticed and appeared to her in the gallery. She recounted the odd fairytale he had told her, though she skipped over the details of their conversation about love and fate.
"…And then he told me to prepare myself, because next time he's going to fight me," she finished.
Her parents exchanged worried glances. "This makes even less sense than his letter," the king mused.
The queen shook her head in puzzlement. "Maybe he's just a madman."
"I don't think so," Usagi said. "He's planning something. I don't know what it is, but…" She trailed off with an unconscious shiver. Her hand closed over her brooch. "What I do know is that he's an enemy, and this is the second time he's gotten away. If he comes looking for a fight, he's going to find one."
~*~
"Calomel! CR-900 Series, Kinematic testing phase two, report," Pyrolusite barked. The two strode across the padded mats of the combat training room. Before them, a long row of smooth-skinned, hairless female figures stood at rigid attention. He would add their wigs and individual facial features later, but for now, he wanted to be sure their movements and fighting styles were well calibrated.
They paused before a robot with a short, chubby frame. "We'll start with this one," Pyrolusite decided. "CR-900P 'Sailor Pallas.'"
Calomel glared by reflex at the mention of the hated name. "She seemed too calculating. Not clumsy enough. That brat may be good at hopping around, but she isn't the least bit graceful."
Nodding, Pyrolusite flipped open a panel on the android's shoulder to reveal a data port, to which he connected a handheld computer. After a few minutes of adjusting her programming, he was satisfied. "Next. CR-900C."
They continued this way for a few minutes, Calomel listing corrections and Pyrolusite adjusting controls, until they reached the end of the row.
"And the last one, CR-900M 'Sailor Moon.'"
"She's just right."
Pyrolusite zeroed in on that remark with sudden interest. "What was that, now?"
"I said she's just ri—" Calomel stopped short, realizing.
"So," Pyrolusite drawled. "She's a 'she' now? Not an 'it'?" A wicked smirk spread across his face. "Don't tell me you're like, you know, involved?"
His mocking laughter was cut short when an icicle buried itself in the wall inches from his head.
~*~
On a small balcony jutting out near the top of the Moirae's tower, two figures sat gazing up at the waning moon.
Aether lounged against the building wall, lost in his private melancholy. He had tossed his deep purple cloak aside, and his white and gold outfit gleamed in the moonlight. Hypnos, on the other hand, would be nearly invisible with his solid-black garb, if not for his wispy, pearlescent hair, which was currently swept back in a small ponytail. He dangled his legs over the edge and munched on mint candies from a small glass bowl.
"Hey, Aether," Hypnos spoke up, breaking the long silence between them. "Do you think Moros is on to us?"
"She probably doesn't know everything, but we should hurry to secure the silver crystal nonetheless," Aether replied. Nothing but his lips moved; the rest of his body seemed made of stone.
Hypnos studied him for a few seconds and found him, as usual, impossible to read.
"Why do you want the crystal?" he blurted out. "I know it's not for personal gain."
Silence. Hypnos wondered if Aether hadn't heard him, or had just chosen to ignore him. He was about to repeat the question when the other man said, in a barely audible voice, "It's my destiny."
Frowning, Hypnos grabbed the candies and scooted back to sit next to him. "You seem depressed. Here, have a mint," he offered, jingling the bowl under Aether's nose.
Aether shook his head. "No, thank you. I'm not very hungry." With a heavy sigh, he stretched and shifted his weight. He looked gloomy as ever, but at least Hypnos had managed to rouse him from his motionless trance.
"What are the sailor soldiers up to?" Aether asked.
"I can confirm that Juno has appeared. I don't know her civilian identity yet, but our Ginza contact should be able to find out soon enough." Hypnos belatedly sensed Aether's attempt to change the subject. "But hey, what do you mean, it's your destiny?"
Aether only looked at him sadly, then turned away.
Hypnos grew frustrated. "Why do you have to keep so many secrets from your own partner?"
"Some secrets have to be kept even from one's friends. I ask for your understanding."
Hypnos exhaled roughly and shot to his feet, running a hand through his bangs. He started pacing up and down the narrow balcony. Aether watched him in silence.
At last he calmed down and faced Aether. "All right. I understand. But not as well as I'd like."
A few more minutes passed without words. Hypnos shifted restlessly, then bid Aether good night and went inside.
Long after he was gone, Aether reached over and plucked a mint from the bowl. He held it between two fingers and examined it critically, as if he expected it to tell him the solution to all his unspoken problems. At length he shrugged and popped it in his mouth.
It was refreshing as a spring breeze, and sweet—not saccharine, but filled with the aching sweetness that accompanies the memory of childhood dreams. For a moment, it took him back to days when life had been more simple, and he smiled. It was tainted with sadness, but it was a smile nonetheless.
He lingered there until the stars went out and dawn rose over the crystal city.