The Galaxian Wars

Seiya stood in front of a white backdrop, wearing his Pegasus Cloth while in a studio booth. The humiliating reality of having to serve as promotional material for Saori's competition riled him up a bunch, but he made sure to vent his anger in small bits and pieces here and there, to better mess with the Kidos' reputation.

A photographer and a videographer shared space in front of him to get angles while avoiding the bright lighting setup. A director was right behind them, giving Seiya orders. "Good, now pose like you're ready to fight!" she said, and he brought his fists forward as if ready for a punch. "Angry face, like you hate me!" That wasn't hard for Seiya. "Perfect. Now pose for the camera however you want, let your personality shine through."

Perhaps that was a mistake from the director's part, or perhaps he gave her exactly what she wanted. The Saint pumped a closed hand up at both of the cameras as an apparent sign of courage. That was a bait, and he slowly unfolded a middle finger at them.

In another end of the studio, June was led by other crew members to sit on a small, visibly uncomfortable chair. The fact she wore her Chameleon Cloth made the matter worse. The bluish shade of the metal reflected the lights strongly, her breastplate flowing into a hypnotic ribbed abdomen on one end, and large shoulder pads covered in short, sturdy studs on the other. In hand she had a dangerous looking whip, its length seemingly covered by many thin plates of edged metal.

She awkwardly fixed her body on the chair and crossed her thighs, making sure her long hair wasn't in the way of the mask.

"Rolling!" the cameraman said.

An interviewer crouched out of the shot, holding a paper with questions they had prepared for the Chameleon Saint. "Alright, tell them which Saint you are."

She waved at the camera: "Hey, everyone! I'm June, and I'm the Chameleon Saint."

"And you are the only girl participating in the tournament, is that right?"

"It seems to be the case, yes."

"How do you feel about that?"

"Hmmm…" She motioned her hands, having nothing to say. "Am I supposed to feel some special way? I'll go in there and beat people up like everybody else."

"What about the mask? You refused to take it off all day. Why is that?"

June took a couple seconds to respond to that. It seemed the question made her exhausted at that point. "I can't."

"Why's that?"

"I'm… cursed. You must've heard the myth of the Medusa." With a fake sigh, she continued: "Anybody who ever caught a glimpse of my eyes turned into stone — lost a few friends like that!" The way she kicked off that story so gravely and then ended it so casually confused the interviewer.

"Wait…" he put the paper down for a second "… is that for real? That's not for real, is it?"

"Oh, want me to show it on camera? It's alright, I'll take it off," she said, threatening to pull off her mask by the chin.

"No, no! Please, keep it on!"

"Don't worry, I'll make sure your families get your statues!" Once again she threatened to pull off the mask.

The entire crew covered their eyes and looked away in fear. "I-is this woman crazy?"

Shun was somewhat far from the others, having make-up done while he wore the Andromeda Cloth, the pink, oversized sideways shoulder pads being its most characteristic pieces. Tatsumi and Saori were near the door of the studio watching the commotion. "How did the press react to the announcement?" she asked.

"They're ecstatic, albeit cynical. There's still a lot of doubt in the air," said Tatsumi.

"As I said, doubt is out the window once the first punch is thrown. It's the attention that I care about."

"This all feels wrong, Miss, do you get the same feeling?"

"In what way?"

"Pitting those mighty youth against each other, using the media to our advantage, trying to lure whoever it is we're luring with this Gold Cloth..."

"I see what you mean. If my grandfather's notes are correct, all we need is to catch irresponsible levels of attention and show off the Gold Cloth. They should come and try to take it soon, and then this circus will be over."

"The way you put it, it sounds like we won't even be able to finish the tournament."

"The tournament is only a tool. They could halt it at any moment, and we need to keep our eyes peeled for that."

"I'll be sure to stay alert at all times, Miss."

"Good," she finished. Tatsumi then left the studio while Saori stayed behind to take in the hard work of the production teams and the Saints, which were much more entertaining to watch than she imagined.

At the time when he was given his task, it was unclear to Mitsumasa Kido who was this enemy Aiolos referred to. To Saori, this was even less clear, and so there was no sense of which people would be attracted to the Sagittarius Cloth in the first place, let alone which they desired to come after it. The news spread indiscriminately without borders, and it reached ears beyond but also within Sanctuary, where the actual enemy supposedly resided. Unsurprisingly, the enemy began to mobilize before the tournament's first fights.

There was an orphan who trained in one of the coldest edges of the world, and who at that moment walked over a frozen patch of water, this at the edge of the East Siberian Sea. Despite the punishing temperatures, he took off his furred jacket down to a blue t-shirt, and took off the warm boots and socks to not wet them. He put a yellow six-petaled flower between the lips, an Altaic tulip. After a few seconds concentrating and silently rising his Cosmos, he struck the sea ice beneath with a single punch and opened way to the water.

The young man held his breath and dove into the gelid sea, swimming his way towards darker depths until he found a shipwreck. He opened a metal door to some given room and went in, floating to the face of an older woman placed against a bed. That was not the only tulip that the boy had brought her, seeing that other yellow petals graced the outline of what was now clearly a dead body, kept almost intact by extreme temperatures.

They shared an obvious resemblance, both with light, long strands of hair, hers longer and parted into two sides. Both were very pale and, seeing that the man's eyes were a deep blue, one could only assume the same of the woman, since hers were shut as if in a peaceful eternal rest. The youth left another flower and meditated beside her.

"Мама…" A mantra caressed the mourning in his thoughts. "Я навсегда о тебе подумаю. Мама…" [I'll forever think of you.]

With his usual rite over, he swam out and closed the door behind him, going for the surface before running out of breath. It was inhuman that someone could survive this feat, yet he did it every time, albeit with shivers upon reaching the dry air once more. The man pulled the wet strands of hair behind his ears and dried his feet and face with a towel he left behind.

A child ventured into the dangerous ice to reach him, dressed in a cream parka so tightly enveloping his head that it completely hid the hair, leaving only face exposed. "Hyoga!" said the boy. "Only you can stand swimming under this deadly ice every day."

"Good morning, Yakov," said Hyoga, his aloof tone seemingly unamused at the kid's presence. "I thought I had told you to no longer come here."

"I know, because this is a holy place for you, but don't blame me! This time it was Master Camus who sent me to find you. He says it's urgent."

As Hyoga had just finished putting on his socks and boots, rolling up the soaked pants, he grabbed his jacket and stood up. "Alright, then we'd better not leave him hanging."

"Yeah! I'll lead you to him, come on."

Yakov took Hyoga reasonably far from where they were, towards a wilderness of bluish glaciers. It was among them that they saw the image of Camus from that distance, which prompted Hyoga to excuse the child. "Thank you, Yakov. I can see him from here. It's best if you go home, or your mom will be mad that you were walking between the glaciers."

"Aw, alright. Then I'll see you later, Hyoga!" The boy waves and takes his leave, and the man nods at him, a grave expression returning him once reminded of his master's position.

"I'm not so sure you will, Yakov."

He continued his way to meet Camus, a somewhat older man with incredibly long copper hair tied into three ponytails: two to the front of his shoulders, and a bigger one on the back. With the approach, the master looked back, throwing a long robe behind him and leaving space to reveal the warm attire underneath. In his right hand, he held a folded piece of paper. That and the seriousness in his hazel eyes only worried Hyoga further.

"Yakov said it's urgent. What's the matter?"

"This letter has just arrived. It's as much of a letter for you as it is for me, and it comes from Sanctuary."

Hyoga frowned. "Sanctuary? What do they want from us?"

"It will do no justice to say it, so read it yourself," said Camus, handing him the paper. The apprentice unfolded it and read the contents.

It didn't take long to understand the message; the writing was short and to the point, yet undeniably from the command in Sanctuary, the one and only Pope. Finishing, he folded the letter back up, shut his eyes, and sighed. "So it has come to this."

Camus took back the paper. "It must be difficult for you, but you do understand the circumstances."

"If there is no other way, I will go to Japan and fulfill my duty as a Saint."

"Hyoga… you achieved Sainthood a while ago, yet you weren't allowed your Cloth. You do know why I picked this place out of all options, don't you?"

"Yes, Camus. You may stand aside," he said, and so his master gave way, a wind hitting his white robe as he lifted an arm to welcome Hyoga to the Cloth. It was within that perpetual glacier, deep in the tall ice, that one could see the vague shape of a metal box.

Hyoga let energy accumulate inside him and then emanate like a veil of stars from the surface of his cold skin, then went face to face with the ice itself. He let the jacket fall off his arm and prepared to destroy a substance many thought to be impervious. "HAAAAH!" One, two, three punches, sending shock waves that quaked the surface as far as where Yakov still was.

The perpetual glacier didn't stand a chance, crumbling into millions of rock-hard shards and exposing the box inside it, bearing the sign of a swan. The Saint swept some blue ice off it with an arm and took in its wonder. That was physical proof of his status.

Camus approached him once more. "Don your Cloth, Cygnus Saint!"

Pulling on the handle, a white light engulfed Hyoga's body, and so soon he had the pieces on, a circlet with the crest of a swan and great wings on each side; a bulky breastplate with depressions in the shape of feathers, transitioning into round pads that covered his shoulders entirely; icy gauntlets, one of which bore a small buckler on its outside; and boots with flowing corrugated decorations.

His master took in that image, almost unable to contain the pride. "Fighting for fame and personal gain… those are not the traits of a Saint, but grave sins. Be Athena's hand striking down on their lives! Have no mercy for the traitors, Cygnus," Camus ordered him and left. Overwhelmed by duty, Hyoga closed his fists and let the breeze calm his wrath — it was as if an enemy of Athena had become the same as a personal enemy his own.

A week passed after the announcement, much promotional material done to increase the reach and anticipation of the tournament. At that point, the amount of Saints who were set to fight grew from eight to ten, since two others had voluntarily decided to take part in it. The first day had finally come.

A large crowd gathered around the Colosseum, entering through many gates to populate the inside after showing their tickets. One by one the seats were filled until the place was at full capacity. The arena in the center was vast, and only a thick half wall followed by empty space separated the spectators from the fighting that was set to happen. The top was fully open, without protection against the rain, although what had been advertised is that the event would happen indoors, and that the Graad Colosseum had a closing dome for a ceiling.

In the structure underneath and around the Colosseum itself were many corridors, halls, rooms, and bathrooms, one of which was connected to a locker room for the Saints themselves, with benches to wait until they were called.

Seiya, Shun, and June stayed there already in their Cloths. "When I arrived, Tatsumi told me that two other Saints arrived to take part in the tournament this past week, but it seems they haven't done the press work we had to do," June said.

Seiya raised an eyebrow: "Eh, really? I didn't know that. Who do you think they are?"

"I don't know, but maybe we will find out soon."

Shun and Seiya stared at each other. "There's a chance one of them is Ikki."

"I sure hope so."

A crew member popped at the door, wearing all black and with headphones on his head. "There you all are," he said, "follow me. The opening ceremony is about to start." The three Saints nodded and were led down a largely empty corridor.

In the main body of the Colosseum, the audience was surprised when loud mechanical noises resonated from the perimeter of the walls, and four round plates of metal slid in the same direction until they touched, forming a dome that completely covered the venue. As if not enough, a series of lights and mirrors on the inner surface of the dome were switched on, gradually forming the image of a star-ridden sky. Foot lights turned on to lighten the stairs, bleachers, and the arena itself.

A spotlight descended from above and down to the center of the arena, revealing the image of Saori Kido dressed the same as she did for the announcement, only this time holding a long spear with an ornate golden tip. She spoke into a headset microphone, and the speakers placed all over the building amplified her otherwise serene voice: "For ages, humans have stared at the nightly sky and seen figures in the stars. We've come to call said figures constellations." The artificial stars on the dome lit faint lines amid them, illustrating the constellations of which she spoke. "Each Saint represents a constellation, and, in turn, is protected by it. What we're about to witness is a grand battle between those warriors of the stars and galaxies. Today marks the first day of the Galaxian Wars!"

Two large screens, each on an opposite side, showed the title of the competition, finally revealed. Enraptured, the attendees cheered, and an operatic song began to play as soundtrack while Saori called in fighters: "Andromeda! Bear! Chameleon!" For each name, a respective constellation lit up brighter in the sky; for Shun, it was Andromeda; for Geki it was Ursa Major; for June, it was Chameleon, and so on. With that also came the Saints themselves, oriented by production to walk in from the multiple entrances to the arena. "Cygnus! Dragon! Hydra! Lionet! Pegasus! Unicorn! And Wolf!"

The ten Saints stood in a line behind Saori, from right to left in the order that they had been called. "These are the Bronze Saints who will fight for glory and to attain the ultimate prize: the Gold Cloth of Sagittarius!" Smaller spotlights drew attention to the Cloth boxes placed as they were during the announcement, one specific light made solely for Sagittarius.

A crew member in a dress had walked in with a spinning metal basket, wherein spun ten numbered resin balls. "With ten competitors, the tournament will have a total of three stages before the final match," explained Saori. Each Saint grabbed a ball from the basket, and the pairings were set once they showed the results, which were communicated to screen operators through radio. Soon the tournament tree was made visible on the panels.

Seiya and Shun seemed surprised at the addition of Hyoga and Shiryu, however, neither of them were allowed to comment on it then, as they had to stand stiffly for the cameras and spectators. They surely also found out their opponents, and for Pegasus, that would be Bear Geki, a man stronger and taller than Cassios. Not only that, but theirs was set to be the first fight, which would start in a few minutes.