THE UNITY SAGA By Sherri-Lee Thornton Part 4 PG Here it is at last. The usual disclaimer applies (see part l). I hope there are those of you out there who are gaining some enjoyment from this story. It has been a lot of fun to write and it would be nice to think that it is just as much fun to read. Enjoy. ##### "The Mirror Has Two Faces" Sailor Moon edged forward, the cold stone damp and mossy beneath her fingertips. Poking her head into the intersecting hallway, she glanced up and down the passage. Empty. She stepped tentatively into the open, her head still darting about like that of a field mouse, waiting for an enormous owl to swoop down at any second. "Come _on_, Sailor Moon," a voice called from further along the passage. "We haven't got all day." Rei... didn't that girl ever give it a rest? There was nothing wrong with being cautious. "All right, I'm coming," Sailor Moon muttered. She dashed along the hall, a blue-white streak of nervous energy, and ducked into the alcove where Sailor Mars and Sailor Venus waited - both anxious to be away. A small dark shadow detached itself from the gloom that clung like black velvet to the walls and bounded towards them. Luna looked up at her young charges. "This whole area seems to be given over to holding cells." "One of them must have been Lena's," said Sailor Venus. "Yes, undoubtably, but it does pose a problem for us," Luna frowned. "What's that?" asked Sailor Moon. "Think about it, Meatball Brain," Sailor Mars drawled, her voice taking on the usual patronising tone she used when talking to Serena. "This place is a prison - which means there are guards posted at the main doors into, or in our case, out of here." "Oh, I see," Sailor Moon said, frowning thoughtfully. "But that wouldn't matter to us if Ami's being held in one of these rooms." "I doubt that she is, Sailor Moon. Artemis is checking now just to be sure, but I suspect that Pyrrhotite has her somewhere else at a more suitable location to spring his trap," said Luna. "What could be more suitable than a dungeon?" a puzzled Sailor Moon asked. "I don't know, Sailor Moon - I... oh just forget it," Luna grumbled, her head drooping. "So, how are we going to get out of here and find Ami before this trap is sprung?" posed Sailor Venus. "We'll just have to blast our way out," said Sailor Mars fiercely. "And let everyone know that we're here?" Sailor Moon questioned. "We wouldn't last ten minutes." "Hey, speak for yourself," Sailor Mars whispered harshly. "I'm afraid Sailor Moon is right, there's got to be another way," Luna said. There was silence as the three girls and their furry companion thought of and discarded several plans in their own thoughts. "I know," Sailor Moon announced. "We can use the Luna Disguise Pen." She spoke enthusiastically. "One of us can be a Negaforce soldier, and the others can be prisoners, we'll just walk right out of here." Rei looked stunned. "I do know how to think you know, Rei," Sailor Moon pouted, crossing her arms huffily. "Pity we don't see it more often then," her friend jibed back. Luna continued the previous conversation, ignoring them both. "It's risky, but it just might work," she mused. "Okay, who's going to be the Negaforce soldier?" asked Venus looking from one pouting friend to the other. "I vote Sailor Mars, she's the meanest," said Sailor Moon. "Hey!" Mars protested, scowling at her blonde friend. "I rest my case," Sailor Moon smiled prettily. "Fine, but will it work on me? It is your pen." "Luna?" Sailor Moon queried. "I don't see why not," the feline shrugged. ##### The young corporal looked up from his desk - more than a little surprised to see people approaching from the other side of the grille door that secured the prisoners' quarters. Two young females were being shepherded forward by a stern-looking officer. None of them were familiar to him. "You there! Guard! Open up immediately," the raven-haired woman ordered. The corporal hurried to his feet, dashing out from behind his desk to approach the bars. The two guards flanking the door glanced curiously at the newcomers and then to the corporal, but maintained a general air of indifference. "H-how did-? Wh-who are you?" he stammered. The woman glared at him over the heads of her subdued prisoners, the chains of their manacles rattling. "What's the problem, soldier? Don't you recognise an order when you hear one?" she drilled. "Sure... I mean, Yes -Sir- ah Madam, ah-." The corporal's left brow began to twitch, as it tended to do when he got too stressed. "Um- I mean, ah- I'll need proper clearance, the proper forms and..." The young man visibly cringed beneath the officer's icy glare. "I will not be questioned by a lackey," she said coldly. "My apologies, Sir," he effused, rushing over his words in his anxiety to please this superior. "It's just that I have to follow orders - Lord Pyrrhotite's orders. No-one is to leave or enter without proper documentation and.... and." The woman shoved her two charges into the corner between passage wall and grille door and stepped as close to the bars as was physically possible. She wrapped one fine hand around a bar and glared at the corporal. His gaze shifted to the floor, the corridor over her shoulder, the insignia pins on her lapel, anywhere but at those flinty eyes that were boring holes to the back of his skull. "How do you think I got in here? How do you think these prisoners got in here?" she asked quietly. "I..." "Have you been on duty for the entirety of the past twenty-four hours?" "No - I ..." "Well then, isn't it conceivable that clearance was given when you weren't here?" She continued in that same quiet, dangerous voice. "Well, yes... I guess - but I don't remember seeing anything about it on my desk," he pushed on bravely - or stupidly - depending on the outcome. Her grip on the bar tightened and he felt suddenly very glad that a solid iron gate separated them. "That's because, you simpleton, there was no written clearance given! Lord Pyrrhotite authorised it personally. These prisoners - ," she indicated the two girls in Sailor uniforms, "are playing a very important role in recapturing another prisoner - one you allowed to escape from this facility." The corporal gulped past the lump in his throat. That hadn't been entirely his fault. "Do you want me to tell him you were willing to let her escape again?" "No! No - ah - no need to do that." He looked nervously at the guards, they shrugged back at him, letting him know quite clearly that it was not their problem, he was on his own. He pulled at the ring of keys at his waist, almost tearing the fabric of his uniform in his haste to free them. "I - I'm sure everything is in order - afterall, there's no other way you could have gotten in there and - and, we don't want to keep Lord Pyrrhotite waiting," he said, trying to convince himself that he was making the right choice. The woman backed up a little as he fumbled at the lock, her eyes glinting with quiet satisfaction. The corporal looked up at her, there was something about her; he looked to the two prisoners, waiting like statues against the wall, tense. Nervous? He paused, his fingers hesitating, the key partially turned in the lock. Sensing his doubt, the female officer muttered several unintelligible words, raising her right hand, palm up. Flame danced into her cupped hand, licking at her fingertips. She smiled evilly at him, coaxing the flames into an incandescent globe of fire. The corporal winced. Taking the threat very seriously, he twisted the key in the lock and pulled back the heavy bolt, stepping back to let the grate swing open as he made way for the woman and her prisoners. She shoved them both forward, still brandishing the glowing red orb. As she passed the corporal she held the flame up close to his face, bathing his pallid features with its bloody hue. He shrank into the high collar of his uniform; beads of sweat collected on his forehead, trickled slowly down his hairline. With valiant effort he steadied himself, squaring his shoulders and lifting his chin. He might be an underling, but he'd be damned if he'd be a cowering one. The officer smiled suggestively, one corner of her mouth lifting slightly. "Well done, soldier," she cooed, her voice smooth, thick like warm treacle. "You just kept your head on your shoulders... and you passed Lord Pyrrhotite's little test with flying colours." "Test?" he swallowed. "Yes, he told me to test your devotion to duty - and you did just fine," she said with the soft tones of a demon temptress. She closed her fist abruptly, smothering the flame. "I'll make sure your superiors are informed of your performance." "Yes, Sir - thank you Sir," the corporal bowed, but she was already gone. Two small shadows darted through the prison door. Unseen and unheard they slunk along the chamber wall and disappeared into the corridor beyond. ##### Their small group marched down the hallway - two scowling prisoners and their supremely arrogant captor who did not deign to sully her eyesight with the likes of those who also walked the corridor. She strode confidently, her chin thrust forward, her nose lifted haughtily into the air, shepherding her prisoners down the seemingly endless length of busy thoroughfare. She turned them casually into a quieter passage at its far end, urging them into a deserted, dead end passage after a quick glance over her shoulder. Sailor Moon and Sailor Venus collapsed against the musty walls, shaking off their shackles. "Ha, I don't believe it, we made it," Sailor Moon breathed with relief. "Yeh, I thought we were gone for sure when he hesitated," Venus agreed. "That was a great trick you did Mars, with the flame. I thought he'd die on the spot," Sailor Moon grinned. Mars stood with hand on hip, a jaunty, superior expression on her face, her eyes dancing merrily. "But of course, was there ever a doubt? We Negaforce officers know how to treat our underlings," she said imperiously. The girls looked silently at each other for a moment. Sailor Moon clamped a hand over her mouth but could contain herself no longer. The three broke simultaneously into fits of giggles - releasing their shared tension in a display of girlish delight. They carried on for a minute or so until, finally spent, they regained enough sense to notice Luna and Artemis watching from the passage mouth. "Are you quite finished?" Luna inquired. "I dare say you've probably alerted the entire Stronghold to your presence by now." "Sorry Luna," Sailor Moon said sheepishly. "Yeh, sorry Luna," Venus and Mars echoed. "All right, then, shall we get on with it?" Artemis asked, a little mirth in his own voice. "Sure," said Sailor Mars. "Where to? We could be searching for hours, we have no idea how big this place is." It was a good question - one that Sailor Moon had secretly hoped would answer itself. Judging by the looks on everyone's faces they had held similar hopes. A shrill beep made them all jump - had they been spotted? The trill sounded again - in stereo. All three Scouts looked curiously at their wrist communicators which chirped a third time. "What's going on?" asked Sailor Moon. "It's Ami!" Sailor Venus cried - a little too loudly for Sailor Moon's liking. She glanced about nervously. "That clever girl," Luna purred. "She's signalling us." "Great, but what good is it?" said Sailor Mars. "We can't track it - can we?" "No," Luna replied, deflating somewhat. "Not unless one of you happens to have Sailor Mercury's mini-computer, and there's not much chance of that is there?" Sailor Moon gasped, jumping as if something had just bit her on the backside. She began fumbling with the folds of her skirt, searching for the cleverly hidden pocket at her right hip. She had always wondered what the point of it was, thinking she would never be able to get anything to sit right in a skirt this short. Her hand found the pocket and slipped inside. Why hadn't she remembered this earlier? "Sailor Moon, what are you doing?" Luna asked. "You got ants in ya pants or something?" Mars quipped. "Or something," Sailor Moon replied. "What? Serena you're talking in riddles," Sailor Venus complained. "I am? Gee - and I thought I was actually making sense." They all stared blankly at her. "Tah-dah," she sang, producing a pocket computer - Ami's pocket computer to be precise. "Where did you get that?" asked Artemis, stunned. "I picked it up at school, it was with Ami's books. I put it in my pocket for safekeeping - I thought Sailor Mercury might need it when we find her." "You 'put it in your pocket for safekeeping'? You've had it all this time and only just now thought it might be useful?!" Rei's fists clenched, her face turned an interesting shade of red. "I still can't understand how you got to be the leader. I can't believe how stupid you can be at times." "Settle down Rei," Sailor Venus chided. "We're lucky Sailor Moon thought to bring it along, you should be thanking her." "That's right! We haven't needed it before now anyway - so just lay of okay?" Sailor Moon demanded, fighting to keep her voice to a whisper. They were supposed to be friends - why did Rei always have to call her names and be so mean? Luna sighed, the heavy sigh born of a long-suffering association with two teenage girls who constantly found reasons to bicker. "Which way is the signal coming from?" she asked tiredly. Sailor Moon pushed a couple of keys, chewing on her bottom lip. "That way," she announced, pointing off to her right - straight at a wall. "Are you sure, Sailor Moon? I mean, the last time I checked I wasn't able to walk through walls," Sailor Mars remarked. "Fine then, why don't you do it, if you think you can do better?" "I'm sure I can." "Fine." "Fine." Sailor Venus lost patience. "Ohww stop it!" she hissed. "We don't have time for your silly games." She snatched the computer from Sailor Moon and examined the readout. "Well?" prompted Artemis. "Well - actually, Sailor Moon is right," she said. "She is?" Sailor Mars queried, the disbelieve plain on her face. "I am?" Sailor Moon said, equally amazed. "Yes - we will have to backtrack a little to get on the right path, but it's the right direction." "Right then, let's get going," Luna ordered, eager to get moving before Rei and Serena started up again. "Or it will be over before we get there." ##### Lena stepped lightly from the portal. Her eyes went everywhere, expecting danger - what she got was eerie silence. Moving quickly she sidestepped away from the portal, towards the edge of the chamber she had landed in, looking to put a solid wall at her back. The breeze of movement from behind and the soft snap of air caught beneath satin brought a smile to her lips. He had followed her through. She whirled about, the room was as empty as before - he was playing a careful game. Fine, he didn't have to show himself - yet. It was enough to know that he was there, that she was not alone. She surveyed the room again, more carefully - there were plenty of dark nooks to hide a monster or two. In this case however, she was certain that they hid only a man in a tuxedo. Where was everyone? What are you up too, Pyrrhotite? The portal winked out, denying her escape, not that it mattered, she wasn't leaving until a few things got settled. It also gave her a clear view of the opposite wall and the door that marked it. A last glance around the room assured her she really was alone - almost - and then she was darting across the open chamber, making a beeline for the door. The heavy door needed little effort to pull open, swinging quietly on well-oiled hinges. She opened it a crack, slipping into the hallway beyond, still waiting for the attack she wasn't supposed to see coming. Nothing - only a row of guttering torches casting ghoulish shadows on the otherwise unadorned walls. Lena shivered in the chill draft that blew from the left of the passage - the way right ended in solid stone. Left it is then, she concluded. Where are you leading me, Pyrrhotite? What game do you want me to play this time? She glided down the hall, a green wraith floating into the unknown. The passage intersected with another which, except for the wooden doors spaced evenly along the walls, was as empty and featureless as the last. Where to now? An agonised shriek echoed down the passage to her right. She jumped, heart thumping. From the left came only silence, not even a breeze disturbed its tomblike stillness. That's what this place was - a monolithic tomb erected to a decaying master whose stench had leached into every crevice, every pitted stone, every pore. The sooner they got this over with the better. But which way? The draft blew by again, this time from the right. For some reason it made sense to follow it - knowing Pyrrhotite, he had probably engineered it for that purpose. Lena hurried on, following the curve of the passage as it swung left. It was so damned quiet. She heard the soft scuff of boots on stone from behind. It was just a snatch of sound, gone as suddenly as it came, but it was enough to assure her that her shadow was still there. Somewhere in the massive complex a metal door slammed shut, the iron clang reverberating through thick masonry, echoing on for what seemed like forever. Lena flattened herself against the wall, imagining that it must be death knoll, tolling for her. 'Your time is up', it taunted. Swallowing back the bitter taste of fear in her mouth, she slunk on, her pace quickening. She had hoped never to return to this place, yet here she was, slinking around like some pathetic rodent. She hated Pyrrhotite for making her feel that low, that scared. She had been stupid to believe, to hope, that perhaps there was more to him, that maybe he was better than the others. She shook her head... stupid and idealistic. Why should she expect more from him than she did the rest of the Master's goons? No, it was becoming increasingly obvious that he was just as deserving of her contempt as the rest of them - and she despised him for it - despised him for making her come here, despised him for playing these stupid games and despised him for proving her wrong. And she hated this silence! Anger and indignation burned in her soul, scattering her fear like chaff before a summer wind. She latched on to it, to the fire, clenching a fist as if to close it inside. She would not give in to weak, paralysing fear. That was his game! That's what Pyrrhotite wanted! Get her alone, get her scared, wear away at her confidence - and then strike. Well it's not going to work you arrogant piece of dirt, she seethed. The passage opened out finally into another intersection. This hallway was larger than the rest, taller and wider, and sporting vicious trophies of war along its length. Shields, axes, swords, something with a lot of spikes and razor sharp blades and even more unfamiliar tools of a hideous trade that she would rather not think too long about. She started down the right passage, but stopped short at the sound of creaking hinges from behind. She spun quickly, flattening herself against the wall and searching the left passage for intruders. Nothing. But the metal squeal persisted. Edging back towards the intersection she soon caught sight of a set of large wooden doors that were swinging slowly inward of their own volition. How could she resist an invitation like that, how could anyone? It was about as subtle as a bolt between the eyes. Lena stepped carefully into the doorframe, brushing her fingertips over one of the pitted door panels. They had held a pattern once, but the wood was so old and weathered that the design had all but completely worn away. Lena traced the outline of what could have been a radiating sun, below it was a crescent moon. Traces of gold filigree still clung to the crescent while the dark side of the moon glinted dull obsidian. Someone had put a lot of work into these doors once, it suggested that the room they enclosed was of some importance. Her fear now gone, swallowed by her burgeoning curiosity, Lena entered the room, trailing her hand across the door as she went. She felt the heavy wood shudder and leapt forward as the doors swung shut, closing her in with a resounding thud. She dismissed the idea of trying to open them as pointless, knowing with certainty that they would not budge. He had her now, completely alone, with Tuxedo Mask locked safely on the other side. So with no other choice open to her, Lena walked further into the chamber, her steps slow and steady, giving her eyes time to adjust to the murky light. The chamber was enormous, easily the size of a grand hall, oval in shape. About a quarter of the distance to its centre a row of columns ran the circumference of the hall, their polished marble trunks soaring an impressive twenty odd feet to support a mezzanine floor. But the walls did not stop there, they continued upward, reaching a ceiling some fifty feet above floor level. The ceiling took over at that point, sloping gently upward to cover the chamber with a self-supporting dome of patterned tile. Even in the poor light, Lena could see that the tiles were richly coloured and intricately styled. A pulse of light brought her eyes back to ground level, to the chamber's centre. A raised platform that she had not noticed before was now bathed in soft light. The platform sat directly below the dome's apex and she cast a quick look upward, thinking the light must be shining from above, but the ceiling's peak was still lost in darkness. The light intensified, Lena blinked rapidly against the uncomfortable glare, resisting the temptation to shield her eyes, not willing to make any move that might be construed as weakness - he would be watching. The light settled into a swirling sphere of colour that ran from deep indigo through sapphire, emerald, yellow, burnt orange, garnet, and agate, and all the shades and hues between. The kaleidoscopic patterns were hypnotic. Lena found herself standing before the platform with little recollection of having actually crossed the marble floor, entranced by the dancing light. "Beautiful, isn't it?" She jumped. Startled beyond words, she spun about, searching for the speaker - eventually finding him above her at the balcony of the mezzanine floor. She bit back a sharp retort, steeling herself for any sudden moves. Pyrrhotite rested casually on one elbow, hands lightly clasped, long fingers intertwined. He stared at her, his gaze laconic, flicking over her with aristocratic disdain. "I see you managed to change outfits for our little meeting," he said, a droll hint of amusement in his voice. "How did you do it?" he asked. Lena shrugged casually, determined to play it cool, to maintain her silence - let him get his own damned information. But for all her nonchalance her eyes still threw daggers at him, she was sick and tired of the pretence. "There's no point in being cagey, my dear little bird. We might as well have a little chat before I destroy you. How did you transform?" "I used my powerstick, how else?" "That's highly unlikely, considering the fact that your powerstick is quite safely locked away in the Master's chambers." Thank you, Lena thought, now tell me where that is and I'll get out of here. "Where's Ami?" she asked instead. "Who?" Pyrrhotite replied, a picture of innocence. Lena's jaw tightened, her patience fraying. "The girl you took from Old Tokyo, where is she?" "Oh *her*. I imagine she's hanging around here somewhere." "You always were one for losing prisoners, Pyrrhotite. You should be more careful," Lena snapped. Pyrrhotite stiffened. "I don't think you quite appreciate the seriousness of your situation. You are trapped, there's no way out - no mirrors this time, no friends," he said harshly. "There's always a way out," Lena replied, a little smug, knowing just how to rile him. "Not this time!" he growled. With feline agility, Pyrrhotite vaulted over the balustrade, a sword of fire appearing in his hand. He dove for her, grey eyes flashing. Lena avoided him easily enough, leaping to the left at the last second and watching him land, roll and come up facing her, fire-sword spluttering. She knew she could not afford to give him time to strike again, nor could she get too close. The words had already been on her lips as he descended and now she gathered a sizzling ball of electricity in her hands. "....-clap.. ZAP!" She hurled the ball at Pyrrhotite who threw himself sideways to avoid it, but the hem of his cloak sparked and began to smoke, tiny blue flames dancing up the cloth. He tore the cloak loose, flinging it at Lena, trying to blind her - if only momentarily. She did not wait around to see what he would try, back-flipping several times across the room, away from the glowing orb into the shadows of the pillars - blasts of fire following her a fraction of a second behind each flip. At the last she flipped sideways and took refuge behind a pillar. "All those years in the exercise yard have paid off, Lena - very nice," Pyrrhotite snickered. Lena hit back. "Jupiter...Dragon... CRASH!" she screamed. Her blast roared towards its target, but halted several feet from him, stopped by the force of his own attack. The energies collided explosively, sparking against each other as they fought for supremacy. Neither won. They dissipated, leaving currents of superheated air, creating a heat haze that partially obscured Lena's view of her opponent - and his view of her. She scanned the wall, quickly locating the flight of stairs that lead to the mezzanine floor. She raced up the steps, gaining the top step before the haze cooled, and searched for a door- anything - that might lead to a way out. She had to find Ami and the others and get them out of here, that was her priority. There was only one set of double doors, halfway along the curving floor. She ran to them, reaching for a gold handle. Her fingers grasped the cold metal - and paused. Who was she trying to fool? She leant against the door, her forehead resting on the white and gold painted wood, eyes screwed tightly shut. Who was she trying to fool? She had known before she stepped through that portal that Ami would not be there. Pyrrhotite was too experienced to think that the Scouts would stay out of this and had probably organised a neat little rescue and escape for them somewhere else in the sprawling complex - they were probably rescuing Ami at this very moment, and a way out would be conveniently provided for them. Afterall, Pyrrhotite did not want Ami, or the Scouts, they belonged to his Master - he only wanted her. She opened her eyes. The faint swish of movement from behind her was all she needed to hear to know that Pyrrhotite had found her. She had a job to do, she was well aware of that; she had a responsibility to the Princess, but she was tired of running - so, so tired. She lifted her head from the door and released the handle. "What's this, given up already?" Pyrrhotite mocked. Lena turned slowly to face him. "Oh, just shut-up, Pyrrhotite!" she said, fed up. "Don't you ever get sick of the sound of your own voice? Or do you just talk all the time so you don't have to remember how empty your life is - it must get lonely not having any friends." Pyrrhotite scowled, only his eyes betraying his unease. He stepped lightly from the balcony guard-rail, taking several steps towards her, arms crossed. "If you're trying to stall for time until your friends arrive, I suggest you forget it - they're all much too busy," he said. So she was right, he had made 'arrangements' for them. Lena mirrored his steps so they stood facing each other, some fifteen feet of gleaming floor between them. "What do you want from me, Pyrrhotite?" she asked, her voice hard, betraying her irritation. "I would have thought that that was pretty obvious, even to you," he remarked. "I want you dead" he said simply. "Then why haven't you done it yet? Why all the games, why are you even talking to me? You could have killed me by now - it's not as if I'm defending myself at the moment," Lena said, crossing her arms loosely. "In fact, go right ahead, I don't care anymore." Pyrrhotite's scowl deepened. "What are you up to?" he said, eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Nothing, not a damned thing. Don't you get it? I've just had enough. You and the rest of the zombies around here have made my life a living hell for the past goodness knows how many years, and I just can't be bothered fighting anymore. I've been fighting all my life - just do me a favour and end it, will you?" Pyrrhotite's arms dropped to his sides, and although the scowl remained something new flickered in his eyes. ##### Pyrrhotite gazed steadily into those emerald eyes, looking for the tell-tale signs of deception, ready for the inevitable attack - a ruse to stall for time most likely. But he found her eyes unreadable, a locked door to the secret depths of her soul, and he suddenly found himself wanting to know more. In a tiny, almost forgotten corner of his hardened soul, a small door creaked open and long-unused emotion fought to work its way free. The words fell from his lips without preamble, and without thought. "Three," he said. "What?" Lena asked, perplexed. "Three.... you've been a prisoner for three Earth years." She stared at him - silent, thoughtful. "That long?" she said finally. "So why this sudden interest to kill me now? You've had three years to do it." The look on her face was mocking. Pyrrhotite's eyes hardened again, his fists clenching with renewed irritation. He pushed the unfamiliar and disturbing feelings that had begun to tug at his resolve aside "What difference does it make? You're still going to die," he said. "I know," Lena said quietly. "I would just like to know why." Pyrrhotite hesitated. She stood so still, so proudly, so much the warrior. How could the Master want to destroy something so magnificent? She had faced every challenge, every horror they had thrown at her - and won. She had beaten the maddening isolation of solitary confinement, faced off against innumerable brutes in the exercise yard, defied and defeated Taurid and Mercurag - two of his strongest warriors, and returned alone to the one place she probably hated more than anywhere else in the universe - all because she believed in the cause she fought for. He had to admire her for that. She was his equal, in ability and in dedication, she made a worthy opponent, she could make a valuable ally. And maybe... He looked again into those luminous eyes, fought against the urge to fall into them. A drowning man sinking beneath the glassy depths of a clear green ocean, he fought his way to the surface of a chaotic swirl of emotion that swept through him, suddenly finding himself floundering in unfamiliar waters, way out of his depth and sinking fast. His head shouted with cool reason - she's manipulating you, don't do anything stupid. But his soul whispered otherwise. A hazy memory beckoned to him, floating at the edge of his mind's eye, begging for his attention, but it swam away when he reached for it - refusing to surface. Pyrrhotite felt the beginning touches of panic grip his heart, constricting his chest. What is wrong with me?, he screamed silently. "I'm beginning to think that either you're a pathetic incompetent or you just can't bring yourself to kill me because you like me so much," she said, failing to hide her sarcasm. Like her?! LIKE HER?! Have feelings for a murdering Scout?! I'd sooner die!, his mind screeched. The door to that musty room slammed shut, sealing away feelings he had discarded a long time ago and sworn never to give in to again. They were a sign of weakness, they could be used by his enemies, by this girl, to manipulate and to control. He fell back on the one emotion he had always been able to rely on - anger - pulling it on like a well-worn cloak, its folds worn smooth and glossy by long and regular use. Anger was strength, anger was power.... and it smothered the pain that that little room in his soul held captive. It's all a trick, his anger cooed to him, she'll reel you in and then she'll suck you dry. She's just like her mother and her friends, and she'll destroy you just as willingly as they destroyed your life. Kill her! - the voice in his mind howled. Kill her! Now, damn it! NOW! Lena took a step towards him, her expression puzzled. As he stared into her eyes he saw the look he had seen at the amusement park - a look that filled him with revulsion and rage. Pity - pathetic, vile pity. He needed pity from on-one! Blind rage howled through his mind, strangling the small disquieting whispers of his soul, and twisted like a knife in his abused heart which had long since grown accustomed to such fury. He pounced at her, slamming his fist into her delicate white jaw. The blow threw her backwards, bouncing her against the door behind her. Her head snapped back, her skull cracking hard against the aged wood. She crumpled to the floor, a beautiful marionette - its strings severed. He strode towards her, reached down to grab a handful of soft curls at the nap of her neck and hauled her to her feet, twisting her left arm cruelly behind her back. He could see that she was fighting for consciousness, her eyes trying hard to focus. A thin line of bright blood trickled from her cut lip. But strangely, disturbingly, he felt no satisfaction at the sight, no heady rush that usually accompanied his battles. The rage dulled to a diseased taunt that still refused to relinquish its hold on him. She was still the enemy, the Master had convinced him of that, and she must be eliminated. "Why?" she croaked through bruised lips. What did she mean? Why kill her, or why thump her? "Humph," he grunted. Why did she insist on keeping up the 'innocent fighter for good' routine? Did she honestly think that he was so stupid as to fall for it? His anger stirred. "You're either monumentally stubborn or monumentally stupid," he hissed, his face only inches from hers. She stared blankly at him, her eyes closing briefly as she swallowed. He knew the strength of his own body and had certainly not held anything back from the punch - it was amazing that she was even conscious. Even now he could not help but admire her strength. She fixed her pain-filled eyes on him again. Her lips moved, but no words emerged. He tugged on her hair, making her gasp, her streaming eyes blinked rapidly. "What..." she stopped to swallow, then tried again, "What did I ever do to you that was so bad?" she whispered. "Do you still pretend to be ignorant of your crimes - the crimes of your precious Scouts?" "What?" Her face was pure puzzlement, it served only to enrage him further. "Fine then, why don't I just refresh your memory?" he growled. He dragged her across the mezzanine floor, cleared the balcony rail with an easy leap and plummeted with her to the chamber floor. ##### Tuxedo Mask sped towards the doors but reached them an instant too late. He put his shoulder to them and tried to barrel his way through, but the worn wood was deceptively strong - too strong even for him. He gave up, resting a palm against a door panel. What the hell was going on? He had just followed Sailor Jupiter into what appeared to be a Negaforce fortress, but she was most definitely not the Jupiter he knew. It was Lena, of that much he was sure. There was no mistaking the resemblance - no more than anyone with half a brain could mistake the resemblance between Serena and Sailor Moon, who else wore their hair in meatballs? Somehow these similarities continued to be lost on the world. But even the assurance that it was Lena raised several other questions. Such as what was she doing here, where exactly was here and more importantly - where was Lita? But equally important - how had Lena come to be dressed as Sailor Jupiter? His questioning took a sudden turn down a more sinister path. Why was she alone and where were the others? Had she done something to them and come here to meet with Negaforce allies? Which led him back to the questions that had plagued him for answers since he had first seen her - where did she come from and why was she here? He cast a quick look up both arms of the passage - he was allowing himself to become sidetracked, to ignore the real reason that had called him here. Somewhere in this rambling complex Sailor Moon was getting into trouble. He stepped to the right, down the passage Lena had chosen only a minute ago. If he concentrated, he could 'feel' Sailor Moon's presence, it set off a tingling at the base of his skull that developed into a full-blown headache on those occasions when she was particularly distressed. Unfortunately, that had been rather a lot lately. Tuxedo Mask broke into a run, making his way confidently through the twisting passages. The 'faux Jupiter' puzzle would have to wait. Besides, the greater danger always followed Serena anyway - the sooner he found her the better he would feel - literally. But then - if his presence was supposed to be so damned dangerous to her, maybe he should just back right off - let her fight her own battles. Nah, he dismissed the notion immediately. It was ludicrous, if not down-right impossible - he wouldn't be able to stand the headaches. Besides, the man in his dream had warned him to stay away from Serena - he said nothing about Sailor Moon. He was so caught up in his worries that he just barely escaped bumbling right into a group of Negaforce soldiers. He retreated hastily into a convenient shadow. When had the traffic picked up? How was he going to avoid being spotted? Sailor Moon was close now - the tingle had grown to a dull throb. Surely there had to be an easier way to locate her, he thought, rubbing his neck. Maybe he should get one of those communicators that the Scouts wore. Maybe he would ask Luna about it. A nearby explosion rocked the fortress to its foundations. "Yep," Tuxedo Mask sighed, "she's close by all right." ##### Sailor Moon blasted another negamonster with her Sceptre. "Gees, Sailor Moon, watch where you're pointing that thing," Sailor Mars protested, rising up from behind a pile of smoking monster ash. "Ya coulda fried me." "If I could be so lucky," Sailor Moon retorted. "Hey!" Sailor Mars protested, hands on hips. Sailor Moon flashed her a brilliant smile. "You asked for that one, Mars," she said. Sailor Mars grinned back. "Duck!" she yelled through her widest grin, flinging discs of fire straight at Sailor Moon without missing a beat. Sailor Moon's eyes grew to saucer proportions. She scramble out of the way, winding up falling unceremoniously on her butt. "Hey!" she cried, but further recriminations died on her tongue when she caught sight of the tentacled monster that now writhed within Rei's fire. "Tentacles - urghh!" Sailor Moon shuddered. "Why do they always have to have slimy tentacles?" "Get over it, Sailor Moon! We could use some help over here!" Sailor Moon looked over to Sailor Venus who stood watchdog over a prone Ami. Luna and Artemis ran and leapt amongst their attackers, teeth and claws slashing. Sailor Moon hurried to help her friend to be joined by Mars. The three girls formed a defensive circle around Ami - facing outwards. Sailor Moon threw a desperate look over her shoulder at Ami. "Oh - come on, Ami. Please wake up - we really need Mercury." She was concerned about her friend, especially seeing as it was her fault that Ami was unconscious. She had used her Sceptre to break the energy shackles that had bound Ami in the centre of this large chamber they had tracked her to. But the blast had created some sort of feedback - at least that's what Artemis had called it, and the ricochet had knocked Ami out cold. Now they were stuck in this room, just the three of them, no way out and all the monsters from every nightmare she had ever had, and was ever likely to have, out for their blood. Ami moaned. Luna bounded between Venus's legs to nuzzle at Ami's cheek. The petite girl moaned again, stirring. "Ami - wake up!" Luna insisted. "The Scouts need you." Sailor Moon glanced back again. So how come the furball could get away with it? Ami's eyes fluttered open, she sat up groggily, holding her head. "Uhh - what was that, Luna?" she asked vaguely. "I would not have thought that there would be such feedback," she said in her quiet, sweet voice, muttering to herself about ratios and quantum equations. "Analyse it later, Ami," Sailor Venus said. "We could use an Ice Storm about now." "Right," said Ami, catching on fast. She climbed to her feet. "Mercury Star Power!" Her powerstick materialised, transforming her with a rush of sound like the breaking of waves. Sailor Mercury joined the circle beside Sailor Moon who could not keep the smile of joy and relief off her face. "Mercury Icestorm BLAST!" Mercury cried with more gusto and attitude than her slender frame would suggest she possessed. Sailor Moon turned her attention back to the battle, satisfied that her friend was okay and immeasurably happy to have another Scout in the fight. "Now all we need to know is where Lena got to," Mars shouted above the din of screaming youmas and roaring energy. "Lena?" Sailor Mercury questioned. "Yes," said Luna, "she created the portal that got us in here." "Created the portal?" Mercury breathed. "She can do that? How? What was her energy source?" "Yes, she can; how, I don't know; and the energy source was Sailor Moon, now can we talk about this later?" Sailor Venus requested, her voice a little strained. "Start moving for the door," Artemis said. "Venus, Mars, concentrate your attacks on those blocking the path. Hopefully they'll give way." "Hopefully?" Sailor Venus said, her voice running up the scale. "We're fighting for our lives and that's the best you can come up with?" "Hey, nobody's perfect," Artemis defended. Sailor Moon ignored them, trying to block out the howls, screams and vicious faces of their attackers and just concentrate on moondusting. Quite frankly though, she was terrified - for herself, her friends, and more increasingly, for Lena. Where was she? Had something gone wrong? What if she was lying in some dingy cell somewhere wondering where 'they' were? Wondering why they hadn't come to rescue her? Sailor Moon's attention slipped, allowing a youma's whiplike appendage to get too close. It wrapped around her ankle, yanking her off her feet and out of the circle. "Iieeeeeee!" She fell hard, her teeth rattling. "Sailor Moon!" Mercury screamed. The monster dragged the panic- stricken Scout away from her friends, pulling her across the floor at alarming speed. Her arms flailing wildly, she fought to gain purchase on the slick floor to slow her progress toward the ugliest, hairiest monster she had ever seen. "Sailor Moon! Use you Sceptre!" Luna cried after her. Sailor Moon half sat up as she scooted across the floor and began bashing at the scaly grey tail with the Moon Sceptre. It was thick, leathery and... icky! "Eeow!" she screeched, "Help!" and went on bashing like a madwoman. "No, Sailor Moon, you ditz! 'Use' it, don't club with it!" Sailor Mars shouted, managing to sound urgent and exasperated simultaneously. "All right, all right," Sailor Moon called back, feeling just a little thick but not willing to let Mars know that. "I was just about to do that!" "Yeh - sure," came the faint reply. She did not get the opportunity however, because the creature decided at that moment to hoist her into the air, so she hung upside- down, long ponytails trailing on the floor. "Oh no, here we go again," Sailor Moon muttered. The monster brought her level with its rat-snouted face and screeched and chittered madly. "Oow - stop that!" Sailor Moon yelled, covering her ears. "What are you trying to do - deafen me to death?" She instantly wished that that was all it had in mind. Its tail glowed and she could feel it begin to siphon off her energy. Struggling vainly, she tried to lift her Sceptre, but the fact that the creature was swinging her roughly from side to side and that all the blood in her body was rushing to her head made it nigh impossible to aim straight. Her stomach lurched. "Oow - I think I'm gonna be sick," she moaned feebly, fighting to keep her eyes open as her energy levels dropped. She hung limply, unaware that the swinging had stopped momentarily. The Sceptre began to slip from her slack fingers. "No... mustn't loose Sceptre... Luna will... kill me." With gargantuan effort she tightened her grasp. "C'mon guys," she whispered. "I can't hold on... much longer." A small projectile whistled by overhead and buried itself deep in the monster's chest. Screeching insanely, it's ear-splitting scream dislodging dust and rubble from the ceiling, it swung its many arms and tail wildly, tossing Sailor Moon about like a rag doll. Sailor Moon focused her blurred vision briefly as she swung past the beast's torso. Another missile had lodged itself beside the first. Her vision scattered, she blinked, finding focus. It looks like - it couldn't be - a rose? But that's impossible. The monster roared and flung the cause of its pain as far from its body as it possibly could. Sailor Moon hurtled through the air, vaguely aware that it was going to hurt like hell when she finally stopped - seeing as the wall was the most likely choice to end her flight. She was more than a little surprised therefore, when she was halted by something much softer and a whole lot better looking - the one person in fact, that she never thought to see here. "Tuxedo Mask!" she gushed woozily when he caught her in midair. "How..." she trailed off. It was pointless to try to work it out - her head was much too foggy to put more than two words together, and everything was spinning so much she thought her head would fly off any second. Tuxedo Mask carried her safely to the ground, dropping to one knee to absorb the impact of their landing. Sailor Moon let her body go limp, resting her head on his shoulder. Tuxedo Mask straightened, hefting her slightly to reposition his hold on her. He certainly didn't seem to be in any hurry to put her down and she was going to be the last person to hurry him along. ##### Sailor Moon grew heavier in his arms and he wondered for a moment just how far she was going to take the 'damsel in distress' act. But there was too much going on around him to call her on it just yet. A few too many soldiers had decided to take an interest in them and were moving their way. The clatter of something solid striking the floor by his feet startled his eyes from the approaching Nega-soldiers. Frowning, he looked down at the girl nestled against his chest. "Sailor Moon?" he jostled her gently. Her head slipped from his shoulder and hung lifelessly. His heart skipped, his chest tightened fearfully. "Aarghh!" the shout came from a charging green-haired soldier. Tuxedo Mask slipped the toe of his boot beneath the Sceptre's shaft and flipped it into the air, catching it in Sailor Moon's lap. He ducked under the man's lunge and made for the exit. "Sailor Scouts!" he called. "Time we were out of here!" "Hurray! Someone with a bright idea!" he heard Mars quip. Sailors Mars, Mercury and Venus ducked, wove, punched and kicked their way through the throng, meeting him as he rushed out the door. "Which way?!" Venus shouted above the howling horde behind them. Rather than bother to answer, Tuxedo Mask just bolted to the left; and they all tore after him - three lithe females, two crescent marked felines, and all the hordes of Hades. ##### She came awake with a start, heart thumping, head pounding. The world had stopped spinning, but now there were three sets of enormous eyes staring at her. "Aah!" she yelled, and tried to scoot backwards. One pair of eyes grew arms that reached out to grab her shoulders. "Calm down, Serena," a tiny mouth said to her. "It's me, Ami." "Ami?..... Oh, Ami!" Sailor Moon gushed, throwing herself at her friend and squeezing her until her shoulder blades creaked. "Hey, not so hard!" Sailor Mercury complained, but could not keep the smile from her face. "Oh, Mercury - I just had the most horrible nightmare. You were kidnapped and there were all these terrible monsters and we were trapped and this rat thing got me and Tuxedo Mask came and.... and," she slowed, casting her eyes around the dimly lit alcove she and her friends were huddled in, felt the cold seeping from the stone at her back, smelt the faint tinge of musty air beneath the sharp tang of burning pitch. She traced the smell to the smokeless torch that lit the passage outside their alcove and cast flickering shadows on the dull stone wall. Her face crumpled. "Waaahhhh! It wasn't a dream! We're still here!" she wailed. The three Scouts rushed her. Mars sat on her stomach, pinning her to the floor, Venus clamped a hand over her mouth, while Mercury held a finger to her own lips for silence. "Keep it down, Dust Brain!" Sailor Mars hissed. "Do you want them to find us?" Her eyes wide and gleaming, Sailor Moon slowly shook her head. "If I take my hand away, do you promise not to say a word?" Venus asked. A silent nod from Sailor Moon. "All right then," said her blonde friend. The hand was removed. After a few seconds to reassure herself that their leader would indeed remain quiet, Sailor Mars released her shoulders and got off her. With an uncharacteristic burst of speed, Sailor Moon bolted upright, delivering a solid punch to Sailor Mars' arm. "Ow!" Mars exclaimed, as quietly as possible, grabbing her throbbing shoulder. "Why - you little-" "Mars, please - just drop it," Mercury pleaded, placing a restraining hand on her enraged friend's shoulder. Mars glared fiercely at Sailor Moon who glared back with equal vigour. "That was for trying to squash me to death," she pouted indignantly. "It's like having a grand piano fall on you." Sailor Mars growled and looked as though she were about to pick up the challenge of another quarrel. Sailor Moon set her jaw, chin lifted, offering her 'friend' the next jibe. "Ah! I give up," wailed Sailor Venus, throwing her hands in the air and walking as far away from them as was possible in the cramped alcove. "You two are never going to grow up." "Are too!" Mars and Sailor Moon chorused. "What's all the racket about?" an imperious voice demanded. All four Scouts jumped, but relaxed visibly when they saw Luna and Artemis pad silently into the alcove. "Don't do that, Luna," Sailor Moon pleaded. "You nearly gave me a heart attack." "The Negaforce will do a lot more than that if they catch you, which won't be that difficult to do if you keep up all that noise, Serena," Luna reprimanded. Sailor Moon prickled, why was it always 'her' fault - why not Rei's? She loved her friend dearly, but she was getting majorly peeved at being used as her personal punching bag - she was the butt of just about every joke that Rei ever uttered - and more than a few of everyone else's too for that matter. She leant back into a corner of the alcove, crossing her arms huffily and glared at Luna from beneath furrowed brows. "Oh, do try not to sulk, Sailor Moon, it's most unbecoming of a young lady," Luna said. Sailor Moon's poisoned look in Luna's direction spoke volumes. Soft footfalls in the passage grabbed everyone's attention. A second later, Tuxedo Mask leant around the corner. Sailor Moon's heart did a little jig at the sight of him. "Is everything all right back here, I thought I heard shouting?" Sailor Moon could have sworn that he was looking straight at her when he asked. Was that a flicker of relief she saw in his eyes, and concern - maybe... for her? "We're fine," Sailor Venus assured him. "What did you find?" The moment was gone, he was all business again. Sailor Moon sighed inwardly, her soul drooping. She had probably just imagined it anyway. "The way seems to be clear, and I think there's a portal room not far ahead. It's rather quiet actually - I think they must be searching in another section of the Stronghold." "Maybe we lost them at that junction," Artemis offered. "Maybe," Tuxedo Mask replied, a little doubtfully. "So how do we get out of here - without Lena to open the portal?" Mars asked. "We'll just have to go find her," Sailor Moon said, as if the answer were too obvious even to be asked. Everyone looked at her, silently. Luna and Artemis both looked doubtful, Venus gave her a look of sympathy, even Mercury looked worried, Mars avoided her eyes altogether. She looked to Tuxedo Mask, most of whose face was conveniently hidden in shadow - he really should take that silly hat off occasionally. "What? What did I say? What aren't you telling me?" she quizzed, feeling like the fifth wheel again, resigned to always being the last to know any of the interesting stuff. "Ah," Artemis began. "I don't think Lena is going to be able to give us much help to get out just at the moment," he said. "What? Why not?" Sailor Moon pressed. "Well, you see, Sailor Moon - Tuxedo Mask saw her a while back," Venus explained. "And ...it looked like she had other plans.. and well - then they got separated and...." "Oh just say it will you, Venus," Mars interjected. "She was dressed up like Sailor Jupiter, she must have done something to Lita and then gone in to meet with her Negaverse buddies, there was no-one there to stop her, no soldiers to fight her - she set us up," she finished, bitter disappointment tainting her words. "Excuse me?" Sailor Moon said, incredulous and a little confused. She sought out Sailor Mercury who could always be relied upon to have the right answers. Mercury only shrugged. "I don't know, Sailor Moon. What Tuxedo Mask described does sound a little suspicious... I guess. She did send you in a different way - which left her alone and...," she trailed off, not really willing to believe that their new friend might have betrayed them. "How else could Pyrrhotite have known to kidnap Ami?" Artemis piled on the condemnation. "How would he have known that she was a friend of the Scouts?" "Maybe because he's not an idiot and managed to figure it out!" Sailor Moon snapped. "Hey, take it easy," urged Mars. "We never really knew her that well, we took a big risk in trusting her. I mean - she knew we were Scouts and everything and she never gave us an explanation for anything. I say we just find the exit and book it out of here!" Sailor Moon stared at them, dumbfounded. Had they all gone completely insane?! "I hate to admit it, but Mars could be right, it does make a lot of sense," said Luna, in that maddening know-it-all tone of hers. "No!" Sailor Moon snapped again, "it makes no sense at all!" "Come on, Sailor Moon - I know it's hard to take, but let's just concentrate on getting out of here," said Venus quietly, placing a comforting hand on Sailor Moon's shoulder. They were doing it again - treating her like a total moron. Well she wasn't an idiot and she didn't leave her friends behind, not now - not ever. She pulled away from Sailor Venus' touch vehemently, looking at her closest friends as if they had all suddenly sprouted two heads and grown enormous fangs and pointed tails. "I can't believe I'm hearing this!" she exclaimed, surging to her feet. "I can't believe you would even think it, Mina! Lena is our friend and I will not leave her behind." Luna padded towards her. "I don't think you understand-" "No! I don't think 'you' understand, Luna, I'm not going. I know you all think that I'm an idiot-." They all shifted uncomfortably, Mercury started to protest but Sailor Moon cut her off - "but I'm not as stupid as you've all convinced yourselves that I am. At least I know a friend when I see one - and I will never, ever, desert them - which is obviously a lot more than I can say about any of you!" Her voice had almost risen to a shout by now. She could barely contain her anger and disappointment that her friends could be so quick to judge - especially Ami who, too her credit, did look uneasy with the idea. But Tuxedo Mask should know better! Tuxedo Mask nudged his way into the alcove so he could stand over her. "Keep it down!" he hissed. "You'll let everyone know where we are." Sailor Moon fixed him with a cold, hard stare, planting her feet and setting her hands firmly on her slender hips. "So what!" she hissed back. "Do you think they care? Do you think they'll come running? Take a look around, Tuxedo Mask, there's no-one here! You said yourself that it was quiet, why do you think this place isn't crawling with soldiers? Can you figure it out, or do I have to spell it out for you!" she shouted, her voice echoing down the passage. Mars and Venus took up defensive positions outside the alcove, looking for trouble, sure it would come any moment. Mars threw Tuxedo Mask a look that told him to deal with Sailor Moon and fast - before she clobbered her herself. He stepped closer to the diminutive teenager, taking a firm hold on her left arm. "This is neither the time, nor the place to be having this conversation. You're upset, we all are, but this tantrum isn't helping." She slapped his hand away. "Tantrum?! How dare you! Look at me, Darien Chiba. Look at me!" she screamed. "Serena, Moon Princess, not the silly girl who can't score past forty in math, not the whining ninth grader that you hate so much!" "I-" he stammered. "I'm telling you right now that these people couldn't care less about us, look how easily we got away. Why on Earth would they leave a Portal Room unguarded? Sure they put on a good show back there, but they didn't keep up the chase for very long-" "How would you know, I thought you were unconscious," "I phased in and out for while," Sailor Moon gushed. "But that's beside the point. The point is that this whole thing was never about us, it was never about Ami, it was only ever about Lena. Pyrrhotite doesn't want us, he never did, he only wants Lena, and now, thanks to you," she accused, stabbing his chest with her pointer finger for emphasise, "he's got her!" She paused for breath, chest heaving, face flushed. "And so what if she's dressed like Sailor Jupiter - how many bad guys do you see going around dressed as a Sailor Scout just for the fun of it? It couldn't have been to trick us, we were all miles away rescuing Ami - and if she 'were' siding with Pyrrhotite she would have known that. And I doubt that it was all just for your benefit! We've all got secrets, Tuxedo Mask, you should know that better than anyone, so give her the benefit of the doubt, you-you SANCTIMONIOUS ARSE!" Tuxedo Mask blinked, speechless. Silence descended as the last of Sailor Moons shouts died away on the still air. Mars and Venus had turned back to witness the astounding scene of their normally shrinking leader going ballistic, and together the group all stared, slack-jawed and wide-eyed, at a seething Moon Princess. Sailor Moon struggled to slow her pounding heart, sure the poor muscle would burst through her chest any second. She could not help but feel a measure of satisfaction at the reaction that her outburst had drawn. The look of open respect on Sailor Mars' face was extremely gratifying. They were shocked and amazed by the strength of her anger. The fact that she was Moon Princess whether she or anyone else liked it or not - due to the fact of family inheritance - did not lessen her indignation. "Who's got my Sceptre?" she demanded. There was a pause, then Tuxedo Mask started. "Oh-" he said vaguely, reaching into his cape. He must have some really big pockets in there, Sailor Moon mused. "Here," he said. She snatched it from him, gripping it firmly and letting the point drop marginally to rest against his chest. "Now take me to where you last saw Lena," she ordered. "The rest of you can do what you like, but I'm going to help a friend." They were still too stunned to respond. Tuxedo Mask looked to Luna out of the corner of his eye, turning his head just slightly to the left and down. Sailor Moon recognised the unspoken words in his eyes. Slowing, deliberately, she touched the crown of her Sceptre to his left check, forcing his head back to face her. "Do that again, and I'll show you just what I can really do with this thing," she smiled sweetly. ##### Every muscle in her already aching body tensed, expecting the jolt of impact and the painfully familiar sensation of her arm being pulled from its socket. But their descent slowed and Pyrrhotite guided them smoothly to the chamber floor. Lena's head was clearing, the agonising blow that had nearly knocked her out fading now to a dull ache in her jaw. She tasted blood, she longed to spit it in his face - the likely beating she would receive as a result would be worth it - but he did not give her the chance. Their feet had barely touched the marble before he pushed her forward to stand no more than three feet from the swirling orb. It still pulsated with its own light, its myopic patterns disappearing before they could be fathomed. "You want to know why I hate the Sailor Scouts, why I hate you, so much? Then take a look at this," Pyrrhotite snarled. He lifted his eyes to the globe, staring deep into the brightness. For several seconds nothing happened. There was only the sound of their breathing - his deep, hers rapid and wild. Lena made a conscious effort to slow her breaths, to take control of her body, of her whirring thoughts - as changing and unreliable as the patterns of light that played across her retina. She was beginning to wonder if he could see something that she could not and was about to say so when the roiling light at the orb's centre coalesced, solidifying to an iridescent ball of blue-green that expanded steadily outwards to encompass the entire globe with its unbroken colour. Pyrrhotite shoved her closer to the now solid ball of coloured light, holding her head a foot from its surface. "Watch!" he growled. The green parted, making way for an image that rose from the orb's depths. Lena stared hard at the scene, trying to make sense of it. The globe showed her a peaceful landscape - a quilt of rolling green hills, purple and yellow painted meadows, quiet stands of trees, and gently meandering streams. "What-?" "Just keep watching," Pyrrhotite insisted, twisting his handful of her hair. Lena bit back a cry, swinging rapidly from bewilderment to extreme irritation - he was really going to get a whacking if he kept that up. She let her curiosity win the internal argument though and returned her attention to the shifting scene before her, promising herself that she would thrash him later. The gentle green countryside muted to dull grey marble and stone the sorry remains of a once great city. Hollowed out buildings and piles of rubble were all that remained of palatial estates; black ash blanketed the ruins; a pall of thick, greasy smoke suffocated the air. "Where is this place, what happened?" Lena asked, still trying to draw a connection between this catastrophe and the Sailor Scouts. Pyrrhotite remained silent and stony at her back, but his grip on her forearm tightened until she thought the bones would snap. The picture swirled and faded, drawn back into the orb's centre like a fly sinking into honey as another image took its place. Shouts and cries of pain rose out of the mist, faint at first, but growing in intensity as the scene took shape. Lena gasped. "But- it can't be," she whispered. "Why not? Just because they deny it?!" "No-" She could not find the words to explain herself, to explain the gut-wrenching certainty she felt that told her that this was a lie. She watched, appalled, as the Sailor Scouts - *her* Sailor Scouts - rampaged through the city, destroying buildings, homes and families. Citizens fled before the onslaught, mothers sweeping up crying babies and dragging hysterical children down crumbling streets; fathers, brothers, sons turning to fight, but falling prey to the horrible onslaught. Lena shook her head - it couldn't be true, they wouldn't do such a thing. Pyrrhotite shook her roughly, releasing her hair to grip her shoulder. He pushed her closer to the scene playing itself out in front of them, so close that the orb's energy tingled against her nose. Spots formed across her vision as her eyes adjusted to focus on the moving images. She could see the writhing bodies, hear the screams, almost smell the acrid smoke and burning flesh. "Take a long, hard look, Sailor Jupiter! That's who your friends really are. Cold-blooded murderers who kill for sport! They had you twisted around their little fingers 'til the day they died. Your whole life is built on a lie!" < No! she screamed silently, it's not true, I refuse to believe it!> "Your mother lied to you!" he shouted in her ear, his breath hot and angry on her exposed neck. She struggled against him, volcanic rage threatening to consume her. But he was too strong for her, his grip too practiced, he held her, forced her to watch the five Sailor suited she-demons slaughter thousands of lives. "That was my home, my family. I am the -only- survivor. This room and I are all that are left. I have nothing but the memories that the Master gave to me in this orb!" he growled, his mouth close to her ear. "An entire world - wiped out by your precious Sailor Scouts - by your mother!" Pyrrhotite spat viciously. Lena growled - a low, primeval snarl that rumbled in her chest. She glared at the ball, at its lie, her body rigid with barely suppressed rage - all the time her mind whispering - 'five Scouts, five Scouts, five Scouts'. "You imbecile," she snarled. "You've been fooled, Pyrrhotite - you've lived -your- whole life on a lie," she flung the words at him, on the edge of hysteria. This is what it's all about?! This is why he is fighting her, fighting the Scouts - because of this - a poorly executed lie?! She snorted. It started low in her gut, a stray spasm that fought its way to her chest, surging upwards until her whole body shook and she could contain herself no longer. "Hah!" she laughed. "Hahhah hah!" Made weary with stress, numbed and beaten by pain, pushed beyond the realm of reason by her anger, Lena broke down into fits of laughter. Her clear, strong voice rang out through the domed chamber, echoing and reverberating around the vaulted ceiling, multiplied and thrown back at them until it seemed the whole world laughed with her. She was unable to stop herself and didn't care. She hardly even noticed when Pyrrhotite released her - she just barely noticed him back away from her. She let her bruised arm fall limply to her side where it joined the rest of her body in its insane spasms. He actually believes it! She roared at the ridiculousness of the whole situation, at the lunacy. What irony! The one person whose death had lead to this sorry mess was the very person who now exposed his lie. "Don't you know there were only _four_ Scouts, Pyrrhotite?" she giggled. "Only four, not five. There was no Sailor Moon - not then, not when that was supposed to have taken place. She-" Lena broke off, her words swallowed by another fit of hysterical laughter. She dropped to her knees, wrapping her arms around her convulsing torso, trying to hold herself together, fighting to form words through the pleasure-pain of full-bellied hilarity. She twisted to look at him, drawing shallow breaths, but the sight of him elicited another peel of laughter. He looked so serious, so mortified, his grey eyes hovering between anger and confusion, and he looked at her as if she were a rabid dog. "You twit!" she shouted hysterically. "Sailor Moon died a millennia ago! No- hang on a sec-" she frowned, her eyes rolling up to contemplate the ceiling, struggling with a thought like a drunk trying to remember his home address. "She died-dies- next week- or is it this week? Or was it supposed to be last week? Hah! I can't remember! Anyway," she drawled insanely, "she couldn't possibly have been around to butcher your family, because your Master bumped her off before you were even born." She looked back at him again, dizzy with laughter, beyond caring. "Someone's been telling fibs and it isn't me," she sang. "That lie," she indicated towards the orb with the tilt of her head, "was made for you, I doubt you were supposed to show it to me, because the Master would have known that I'd pick up the mistake." "What makes you think that the Master made the orb?" Pyrrhotite finally spoke, clenching and unclenching his fist. He still held his tall frame with poise and strength and more than its fair share of anger, but the look in his eyes was that of a desperate man. "Who else would be sick enough to torture an orphan with pictures that like," she replied, nodding towards the orb, noticing that the image had disappeared. Pyrrhotite held his arms rigidly by his sides, glaring at her through stormy eyes, and made his decision. "Stop perpetuating their lies," he growled. "The Master saved my life, why would he lie to me?" Man! What was it going to take to convince this guy that he was working for the wrong side? His stubborn insistence to adhere to the protection of a heartless murderer above and beyond the call of reason made her blood sing in her ears. Pyrrhotite was chilling evidence of the influence that the Master could exert over even the strongest of men. It was a sobering thought - sobering enough to calm her laughter which left a gaping hole for her anger to fill. "I don't get you, Pyrrhotite," she breathed, shaking her head. She stumbled to her feet, still hugging herself tightly with her right arm, and took a couple of unsteady steps towards him. "Why are you doing this? I can see you're obviously having trouble bringing yourself to kill me. Why? What are you looking for? Truth?" "Truth! Hah! You'd be the last person I'd come to for the truth!" "Yeh - that's the kind of response I'd expect from you, Pyrrhotite. What's wrong? Too scared to see the Master for what he is? Too scared to find out that your wonderful 'cause' is destroying the world, that universal domination isn't all that it's cranked up to be? Trying to maintain your grip on plausible deniability? - 'sorry people, I thought we were here to cleanse the world, didn't know he was going to butcher you.'," she imitated. She noted the slight widening of his eyes. "Oh, yeh," she pressed on, "I know what the Master is after - probably better than you do. He's a vicious, cold-blooded killer. He's taken over my world, my Earth, and it's my guess that he has taken yours as well. Where are you from, Pyrrhotite? The Nega Moon moon? Some backwater planet? You're definitely from my time - aren't you?" He said nothing, remaining stony eyed and rigid. Lena approached the quietly pulsating orb as she spoke, attracted by the complexity of its energy patterns, seeing an interesting possibility take shape in the recesses of her mind. "Let me paint you a picture," she said. "The Master likes power, he likes to control things, to own them. He decides he likes the thought of ruling the Universe so he forms an army and starts conquering worlds. Naturally the inhabitants resist and then they tend to get wiped out. Somewhere along the line he reaches your world, takes a disliking to it and destroys it - for sport." She paused, waiting for a response, but got none. He was a cool customer all right, disciplined, calculating - but hungry for information. "Surprisingly, he finds a survivor, a small boy - the sole survivor - young, impressionable, alone, frightened, angry. You must have made a fine addition to his armies. He would have been pleased to see you had talent, that you could control his troops - almost as well as he controls you." "No-one controls me!" he snapped, teeth clenched. "No? Then what do you call that?" she asked, pointing to the orb. "It looks like one big pacifier to me. A big pacifier for a big baby who should have dealt with his juvenile need for revenge years ago!" Pyrrhotite took a menacing step towards her. "What would you know about my needs!? What would you know about my life or my pain? You've never had to witness what I did-" "Never had to-" Lena gaped, incredulous. "Why- you self- absorbed-" she could not believe the depth of his insensitivity, was stunned by the extent of his emotional blindness. "Do you think you are the only person in the universe who's ever suffered lose?!" she screeched. Their eyes locked. Shining within those steel-grey eyes she saw the indomitable will that fueled the man, it was probably the only that held him together. Lena stood only an arm's length from the orb now, its humming energy singing to her, demanding her full attention. On a hunch, she opened her senses to it, allowing the small part of her mind that had been gently probing the nature of the orb's structure to reach out to it. She could manipulate energy, she could manipulate this - maybe. Her eyes still locked in silent battle with Pyrrhotite's, she raised her right arm from her side, palm out, bringing the hand to within an inch of the orb. Sparks zapped and crackled between her hand and the surface. "What are you doing?" Pyrrhotite frowned, his eyes flicking with concern to the orb's surface which had paled and begun to roil. She pushed further, touching the surface, then sinking in to the wrist. "Stop it!" Pyrrhotite insisted, edging closer. "What's this, General? Is that panic that I see?" she goaded, glaring wickedly from beneath arched brows. Oooh - she was going to enjoy this, and she pushed her arm in up to the elbow. The orb resumed it's rainbow swirl, the patterns whirled faster, spinning madly, a dizzying roulette of colour. "STOP!" Pyrrhotite yelled. He dove at her, arm outstretched. Her left hand whipped out, grabbing his wrist. She pulled him close. "You want misery, Pyrrhotite?" she hissed, their faces so close she could feel the moisture left by his warm breath on her anger-chilled lips, "I'll give you misery." She pushed sideways, her powerful legs carrying them both onto the platform - and into a sea of riotous colour. ****************** Sorry! Had to cut it there or you'd never get to read it! I've actually written past that but it's going into part 5 - so sit tight and I'll get back to you ASAP.