"Neptune... My freakin' replacement's called Neptune?" The words came from the shadowed figure sitting atop the stone throne. Unmoving, yet clearly alive, its unholy presence froze the air around it.

"Yeah. Neptune, Purple Heart of Planeptune." Those words triggered a spasm of anger in the seated figure. Minor enough to be unnoticeable, but strong enough to shock the world around it into submission.

Croire wasn't even sure this was worth it. Hunting down an old CPU just to stir up trouble? Pfft. The last time she did that, in some other barely notable dimension, it was a boring affair that was quickly shut down through the power of friendship.

But this world was different. Friendship was rare here, and tension was brewing. What better, then, than to give this world a push? A very angry, ancient, vengeful push.

The figure was unmoving. Silent. Yet still intimidating. The air was still, the tomb was quiet, and the only source of light being a tiny flame in the center of the room.

Thump.

Croire looked around for the source of the noise, yet there was nothing to see. Was someone else here with her?

Thump. Another one, this time shaking the foundation of the tomb.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Increasing in frequency and intensity, Croire had to cling to her book to stay upright.

The tiny flame sparked once, sending a rising aura of flame throughout the room. It was a dark flame, a red flame. Pulsating and sparking with rage, the flames were alive with anger.

Reaching out to the figure, and enveloping her like a gentle mother, the figure slowly came into view.

Long red pigtails, tied in knots. Fingerless gloves over black sleeves. A white shirt unbuttoned except for the top, hiding beneath an orange tie with a familiar symbol. Green shorts held up by suspenders. Black boots with orange socks.

The figure almost looked to be asleep, for a moment Croire had assumed they'd died in the 10 minute wait.

As if sensing her doubt, the figure's eyes opened in an instant.

Deep red eyes, bearing the weight of centuries of fury.

Rising from the throne, the CPU gazed around the now lit tomb. Adorned with murals and tapestries, this tomb was a monument to her sins and to her victories. None of them mattered now, though. Forcing her glance back to Croire, the CPU spoke the words that would signal the reckoning of Planeptune:

"I am Uzume Tennouboshi, Orange Heart of Planeptune. I'm gonna beat the CRAP out of my replace, and I will bring about-"

Uzume's dramatic speech was interrupted by the sound of laughing and clapping. Croire was, somehow, having the time of her life.

"Oh man, you ancient CPUs are so dramatic, I swear you probably would've went off for an hour if I let you. But whatever, I came here for fun, not speeches, and I got a present for ya."

Extending her hand, Croire summoned forth a large, powerful looking blade from nowhere.

"I swiped this from some dimension that was going kablam. Some whiny little kid had it, killed all her friends. It was hilarious, you should've been there." Croire let out an oddly satisfied laugh upon recalling that sight.
"I think it's called the Valhaburn or something, I don't care."

Croire held the sword in front of her, offering it up to the newly returned Uzume.

Grabbing hold of the hilt, Uzume could feel the power within it. The power that felt eerily similar to many CPUs congregated in the one source. As soon as it met her hand, power flowed into her body, almost completely restoring her to her former state.

Once it had taken hold, a satisfied grin took over Uzume's face. Making for the door, she paid little attention to the oracle behind her that was desperately attempting to keep up.

"Alright Oracle, think it's about time I get my nation back!"

Uzume struck a dramatic pose, drawing an irritated sigh from Croire.

"You're ridiculous" she said, irritation obvious in her tone.

"I'm still cool, right?" Uzume said, like a hopeful child.

"Nope."

"Oh." Uzume visibly deflated. "Well whatever, let's get out of here already!"