Sailor Moon: Shades of Light and Darkness
Volume II: Perchance to Dream
Part 1: Lure
Author: David Kogan - dnk@cmu.edu
Editor: Odango - odango@usa.net


-Disclaimer
Sailor Moon and the characters and plotlines associated with that trademark are owned by large companies with which I have no wish to fight (because I would lose).  This piece of fanfiction, however and all the characters created within are mine.

Please visit the SLD web site at http://sld.home.ml.org for
information on the SLD universe and the fanfics in it.

For more information, see the readme file.



Sailor Moon: Shades of Light and Darkness
Volume II: Perchance to Dream



Prologue


Of armored generals do beware
Maraki blades will not compare
Their foolish wielder will despair
The folly of an ill-thought dare


_	_	_


Out of the mosaic of color, a sword came at Nakiad's head.

The blade cut silently through the air, a blur of gray sharply outlined against
the dark blotches of blood on the metal.  Around the moving weapon, time seemed
to slow as Nakiad felt his legs compress.  The armies of men faded into the
background, the cries of swords against each other and the screams of dying men
calming into the back of Nakiad's mind.

Only the sword mattered.

He felt his heart beat, slowly in the darkness, and his hands came up.  Metal
covered them, ancient steel that danced easily around his fingers.  The
attacking sword smashed into one steel palm.

A shower of sparks leapt into the air, and the attacker's eyes widened beneath
the iron helmet when the sword slipped aside.  And Nakiad did not hesitate.

His other hand, also covered with lethal metal, plunged forward, smashed into
the enemy's chest and through the flimsy armor.  The ancient gauntlets tore
through fabric and flesh in the same movement.

The attacker's eyes widened silently as he felt the steel deep inside his
chest, then he breathed out.  A single trickle of blood made its way down his
chin.

He slid back to the ground.

Around Nakiad, the battle sprang back into motion as he turned away, his eyes
lingering for a moment on the dead man.  Then the Chosen's eyes drifted down,
to the gauntlets.  Red covered the fingers of one hand, red that dripped slowly
down to the ground, red that was human blood.

A dark flame inside Nakiad flickered, and he turned back to his men, fighting
on the field.  Then his eyes moved back, and he leapt back into the battle.

His metal covered hands cut flesh easily.



Eight hundred years is a long time.

No time is long enough to forget.

_	_	_


The giants that hurled through space had been born with the Universe and would
die with it.  They had seen the rising of the sun over the Earth a billion
times, and they had seen the sun fall until the light blurred in their
memories.  To them, time moved quickly, too quickly to control.  Sometimes too
fast to even see what was going on.  And though the planets knew that something
was happening, they could not see deep enough, fast enough, to predict what the
future held.  And they could not help the ones chosen to represent them, the
planets could not help their avatars.

They could only look down upon the small blue planet and hope.

They watch a single person's course through life, a person who is not one of
their chosen fighters.  But he is one of very few who live long enough to be
noticed by the giant minds that float through space.

His name is Nakiad.

He is the last of the Chosen.


_	_	_



There are people on Earth, now, who do not sleep, ever.  They are perfectly
normal people who live their lives like everyone else, except that they never
get tired and they never sleep.  They live their lives in a strange combination
of normalcy and impossibility, and mostly, no one knows about them, 
although their cases are well documented.

Nakiad slept.

He merely did not dream.

He _remembered_.

In the darkness, his eyes slowly closed, and he was thinking back.

There was no blurring in the memories, no blank images.  Nakiad had lived for a
thousand years, and he remembered everything.

The gauntlets.

If Guardian had not come-  He forced his thoughts away.  There was no Guardian,
not any more.  No one to save him this time.

He remembered getting the necklace, the only thing truly remaining of his
previous lifetime.  He had to give it to Mina some time, if he could figure out
when.

If he had the right to do that to her, with the darkness that burned inside
him.

Then, destroying everything on the moon, erasing the past.

Only the past could not be erased.

Nakiad did not flinch at the images that assaulted his mind.  They were
memories, from his life and from the lives of countless others.  And the things
he remembered were rarely filled with beauty.

Then the worst.

The memories of the Dark Lord, attacking him from the darkness of his mind.
The Shadow had chosen to become one with the Chosen, had chosen of his own free
will.

The dark energy of the Shadow had made no such choice.

The pressure in Nakiad's skull began anew.


_	_	_



Deep below the planets' surfaces lay relics, remnants of civilizations long
gone.  Layers and layers of ended hopes lay deep below the giants, inside their
power.  The planets were the only ones who remembered those lost civilizations,
the only ones who cared.  For that past was their life, that which had gone
would come again.

The age of the giants had taught them that, that the answers to the future lay
in the past.

Perhaps that is so.

But even if the answers were there, even the planets could not interpret
them.

When the Universe had been young, it had been joined to another, the two
connected by a tiny string of energy.  Time and time again, the powers of one
universe would tear through the string, break through the barrier.  Most of the
time, the link had been closed when the damage had not yet become
irreparable.

But the link was strong now, and had been for as long as it took the Earth to
move once around the sun.  A split moment to planets, a long time to mortals.
It was too long for such a connection, the string of energy disturbed the peace
of both universes.

Something had to be done about the disturbance, but the planets knew that
crisis was far away.  Something far immediate was coming.

A short time before, something had passed through the string of energy.

Something had passed from the Negaverse to the Universe.


_	_	_



Part 1: Lure


Nakiad forced his lips straight with faked anger.  "Yes, I do look silly, so
leave me to my ultimate despair," he answered with a brief smile, shaking his
clothes once more.

Fortunately, there were not that many people on the street to see him.  It had
taken Mina a lot of work to convince him to come with her to the mall, but it
had had to be done, she thought with a smile.  He had clothes, of course, but
most of them were ones that he wore for training, or for exercise, completely
inappropriate for walking down the street, the orange scout thought.  His only
other clothes were several business suits, which he wore on the rare occasions
when he had to meet with someone.  And Mina did not want him to walk around in
a suit, certainly not in her company.  She stifled a smile.  Even he had
conceded that wearing one of those things was torture, and relaxing in one
impossible.  

"Admit it," she examined him once more, "these are not uncomfortable."

He glared at her.  "First I have to wear Darian's clothes in order to come into
the store in the first place.  Which is uncomfortable enough, since we are not
exactly built the same."  

He had her there, she admitted.  Although Darian's shirt had fitted him all
right, the pants had been uncomfortable.  The prince actually liked his clothes
to fit him, and Nakiad seemed to prefer floating in whatever he wore.

Nakiad transferred the bag with his new clothes and Darian's crumpled ones to
his other hand.  "And then," he continued, "I have to wear this.  I am used to
the hardships of training, but this is ridiculous."  

He gestured down, and she looked at him critically.  He was wearing pair of
black baggy jeans, the loosest ones they could find.  And a fleece sweater,
similarly relaxed, but appropriate given the lingering chill of winter.  It
also hid the scar she had noticed on his forearm. His regeneration would have
taken care of it unless he had received it a short time before, probably during
the time he had disappeared.  Mina wondered again where he had been for that
week.  Ever since he had come back, he had acted-

He moved slightly, distracting her, and she lost track of her thoughts.  The
orange scout shrugged and went back to thinking about his clothes.

Although he tried to look uncomfortable, his mental presence in her mind was
pretty relaxed.  Relatively relaxed, at least, she thought, remembering what
had been worrying her before.  Nakiad interrupted her thoughts again, as if on
purpose, looking down at himself once more. 

"All right." He said. "They are not _that_ bad."  He sighed, and bowed to her,
smiling. "You are an excellent chooser of clothing, my lady."

She smiled back and curtseyed, then looked at him once more.  Something was
still wrong, something that made him look peculiar on the street.  After a
moment she had it. "Stop it."

He raised an eyebrow. "Stop what?"

"The way you walk."

He examined his own feet critically.  "I _think_ they both touch the ground
when my foot comes down.  How do I walk?"

"You walk like a-" she searched her mind for something similar for a brief
instant.  "Like a cat."

"A cat?"  He was smiling a little.

"Yes, like a giant overgrown cat."

"Artemis would take that as an insult, you know?"

She grinned, then remembered the time.  "Come on!  I have to get home before my
parents kill me."  His van was waiting near her house, as they had elected to
walk the short distance to the mall.  Mina glanced at her watch. "I think we'll
have to take a shortcut, this way," she said, turning toward an alley.  A
somewhat less than friendly alley, she told herself, unworried.  She was not
exactly without protection.

"Um.. Mina," he stopped her about half way through. "Maybe that was not one 
of your better ideas."

"Hm?"  She said, distracted. "What wasn't? Oh," she added, suddenly seeing
them.

Several figures melted out of the texture of the walls to either side, blocking
their way out of the alley.  A glance back assured Mina that similar figures
were behind them, and that they were trapped.

"Nakiad?"  She asked.

He sighed slightly, seeming to wilt a bit. "I don't suppose we are going to
have much of a choice."

The leader of the gang in front was closing in rather rapidly, and she
shrugged. "Guess not."

The leader's voice was surprisingly calm. "Going on a little shopping spree,
are we?" He was obviously the leader of the gang, a row of people standing
protectively in front of him.  "Now then, you see, you happen to be on our
turf.  And I'm afraid that I can't let you get away with that," he glanced at
Mina, "as much as I'd hate to see such perfect beauty marred."

Mina could feel Nakiad beginning to tense next to her, his strength coming
through their link, and she tried to relax so as to make him do so as well.
The thoughts that had annoyed her before came back, and she wondered why he
felt so strange lately.

Nakiad shrugged. "And I'm afraid you are going to have to let us pass."  There
was no tension in his voice, Mina noticed with a surprising degree of
detachment, the stress was only in his mind.

The leader frowned. "All right then."  He gestured slightly to the men in front
of him. "Have it your way."

The man closest to the two grinned and swung a baseball bat at Nakiad as hard
as he could.  

The Chosen did not even bother to move.

With a crack, the wooden bat smashed into Nakiad's arm, and a thunderclap
echoed through the alley.   The goon gaped as he jerked the club back and
stared at the half of the bat that was left in his arm.  The rest of the wooden
club clattered loudly on the asphalt as the attacker started backing.  Next 
to him, his two partners faded back a little.

"Are you quite sure you still wish to continue?" Nakiad asked with a slight
smile.

It was fate, perhaps, that the alley was dark, and it was hard to see.  One of
the men behind Mina and Nakiad was not quite sure what had happened, but was
determined not to fail like his counterpart.  Gripping an iron bar with both
hands, he swung it as hard as he could against the Chosen.

Nakiad turned like a drop of water.  The iron bar missed him completely when he
closed in on the attacker.  The next thing the assailant saw was a brick wall
coming to meet his head.  For a moment, nobody moved.  

Then body slumped slowly to the ground.  The gang started to fade back,
suddenly unsure of their wish to threaten this particular couple, and the
leader felt his control of his men slipping through his fingers.

The Chosen felt the hostility, but he could only read emotions, not thoughts.
Though he felt the leader's hate toward him, he did not know what the man was
thinking.  And Nakiad assumed automatically that the leader would attack him
personally.

A foolish mistake from one with eons of experience.

Nakiad took half a second to turn around.

And Mina, still staring at him, was not ready.  She felt movement behind her,
but too late.  Despite her training, she never had a chance to move away before
cold steel made contact with her neck.

Nakiad turned around to see his true love with a knife to her throat.

He flickered.  

Literally.

His whole body glimmered, balanced between light and dark.  Mina stared at him,
feeling his emotions reach a boil.  As if a cage inside him had burst, a
blackness overtook him, a shadow that covered his features, making him even
darker than the alley.  Then everything in Mina's mind blurred as the black
figure sprung into motion.

She was free, on the ground, looking up.  Somewhere above her, Nakiad was
holding the leader by his throat.  Neither of the man's shoes were touching the
ground as he grasped at the black hand, trying to break the grip.   Slowly, the
man's motions became slower, more feeble as oxygen was denied to her brain.

"No," Mina gasped, recovering from the experience.  She forced her body to
move, standing up. "Nakiad, no!"  He did not seem to hear her, his entire being
focused on his target, hatred burning in his eyes. She hammered at his arm,
wincing when her hands seemed to strike rock. "_Stop_!" She yelled as hard as
she could.

He flinched.  

The blackness around him flickered, the shadow fled somewhere deep inside.  The
leader of the gang collapsed to the ground, and for a moment Mina was sure that
the man was dead.  Then he drew in an obviously painful lungful of air, looking
up with wide eyes at the figures over him.  A glance to either side assured him
that his followers had abandoned him, and he started crawling backward, very
slowly.

Nakiad shivered, and looked at the attacker.  The other man froze as the Chosen
opened his mouth.  "Go," Nakiad said, his voice unnatural. "While you still
can."

The man scrambled to his feet and ran off, holding his throat as he disappeared
at the other end of the alley.

For a long moment, Nakiad did not look at Mina, then she forced him to meet her
eyes.

"Nakiad?"  She asked quietly.

He wilted.



The gang leader, Curt Russell, continued running, gasping for his life.  His
head was swimming in an ocean of red, his legs pounded with the strength he
forced into him.  He never saw the man he smashed into, never remembered
collapsing in the policeman's arms, unconscious.


_	_	_



"Then find him!"  Kaneth allowed anger to enter his voice.

The emotion was justified.  Somehow, the creature had managed to mindwipe half
the people in the army, and it had taken an Earth month before his
disappearance had been noticed.

A month!

The servant cringed a bit, but did not flee. "Sir, he has been able gather
seven crawns to him, and has left with them.  According to-"

Kaneth sighed, interrupting. "Yes, I know.  According to Negaverse law, if he
is able to gather that much support, he has the right to go." He paused for
a long moment. "Very well then.  Leave me."  The other bowed and exited, doing
his best not to show any haste.

Kaneth damned the old laws silently.  Managing the shadows had been difficult
enough.  Now with this mad creature on the loose- he paused in his thoughts.
The only way the other could have gathered so much support would have been to
do what Kaneth had refused.  To attack the Universe.

Impatiently, Kaneth put a hand on the crystal that summoned the guard.  The
other appeared immediately.

"Yes, sir?"  

Kaneth smiled a bit at that.  One of the few things he had been successful in
was changing the mode of address, for it had annoyed him to the extreme to be
addressed the same way as Beryl had been or the Dark Lord had been.  Not that
he had anything against the Dark Lord, Kaneth thought hastily.  Without the
Shadow, Kaneth's rule might have never been established.

"How much energy would it take to make a link through to the Universe?" he
asked the guard.

The guard seemed surprised.  "A gateway?  I thought you had said you would not
make any assault-"

"Not a gateway," Kaneth interrupted. "Merely.. a link.  Whatever would be
required for me to converse with someone on the other side."

The guard thought for a few moments. "I am not sure, sir.  But I think the
technology ward could come up with something relatively easily.  The
information we have about the Universe tells us that they already have an
extensive communications network, maybe we could use that somehow."

"Good.  Find out how difficult it would be."

"Yes sir."  The guard left immediately, leaving Kaneth alone once more with his
own thoughts.  He got up slowly, walking around the rather large chamber, then
sighed. "Things were so much easier when I was just a warrior," he said
quietly, then passed a hand over the light crystal to extinguish it.


_	_	_



"Sure, Amy, I'll meet you.  Did Mina say what was the matter?"  Serena asked
anxiously.

The blue scout shook her head, her voice coming in clear through the
communicator. "No, but she sounded really worried."

"I'll be there," Serena promised, unusually serious, and broke the
connection.

"Ahhh....  What is it Serena?"  Luna opened her eyes, stretching.

Serena grinned, hiding the communicator as if it could give anything away. "You
were sleeping _again_, Luna?"

The cat merely sighed and turned serious. "Yeah, yeah.  So what's up?"

Serena shrugged. "I'm not sure.  Amy said that Mina and Nakiad had a strange
experience, and that I should come over right away.  Darian will be waiting
with a car at Amy's," the princess giggled, "as far from my dad as possible.

"This is no time for amusement, Serena," the cat admonished. "It must be
something serious for Nakiad to get worried.  Well, at least there will not be
any problems with your parents."




"Leaving early for class?"  Serena's mother raised her head away from the stove
for a moment.

"Yeah, mom.  Didn't I tell you?" The girl asked innocently.

"You need a ride?"

"No mom, I got one.  Thaaanks!  Byeee," she yelled, already outside.

"Teenagers," her mother said quietly, looking outside.  Serena already out of
sight, and her mother closed the door, shaking her head. Still, ever since the
girl had started taking the karate classes, she had been a lot less
airheaded, the parent thought.


_	_	_



"Pete?"  

The man raised his head at the shout and looked at the other.

His friend, Mike, smiled. "I bumped into El Provoro half an hour ago.  He's in
the interrogation room now."

"So?"

"Well, you might want to talk to him.  His story, or what I got of it on the
way to the station, is that he was attacked by someone with inhuman strength,
someone who turned very, very black.  Jeez, Pete, you should have seen the guy,
I'm telling you, _something_ scared the hell out of him."  Mike shrugged. "I
just thought you might want to know, seeing as you were interested in that sort
of thing."  Mike's name was called by the sergeant and he shrugged. "Gotta go.
See you around."

Williams sat back in his chair, his face betraying none of the excitement he
felt.  It took him only a few moments to gather himself, and he walked quickly
out of the room.




Detective Peter Williams had no extraordinary powers.  He was not, and would
never be, a warrior against the Negaverse in the way that the Sailor Scouts
were.  He was, and would always remain human.

But he had a distinguishing trait that involved him with some of the greatest
powers of the Universe.  That trait, although not unique to him, was very
strongly expressed in his genes.

He was curious.

Despite what the public may think, working for the police department was not at
all glorious.  It was dirty and dangerous and often boring, and it was
virtually impossible for a person to continue with the job just for the police
work.  Most cops have ulterior motives, or dreams, ones they often keep buried
deep within them, things that keep them going.  Often these motives were
obsessions, with certain types of crimes for example.  Peter Williams had such
an obsession, but it was a rather unusual one.

He hunted creatures.  

Not literally hunted, of course, not the way a poacher thinks of the concept.
But for a while now, his city, his neighborhood as he thought of it, had been
attacked by _somethings_.  And he was determined to find out what they were.

There were hundreds of small incidents and large ones, all interwoven into a
complex tapestry, a mystery which he had learned about carefully, piece by
piece.  But there were just too many questions.  Both the attacker and the
defenders, the self named Sailor Scouts, were unknown.  And both factions
appeared and disappeared like the wind.

And even more importantly, Williams thought as he walked down the corridor, was
the fact that someone was trying to keep the knowledge of all of these
incidents hidden.

For he knew someone was trying to block him.  Every time he made a request for
certain reports, the requests got lost or forgotten.  Even when he was able to
get a request through, the information arrived a long time after it should have
had, and the information was sparse.  A month ago, he had sent a request for
any reports connected with the last several sightings, and had heard nothing
since.

The most frustrating thing was the lack of proof.  He frowned to himself as he
walked down the corridor.  Not only did witnesses almost always become
unconscious during an incident, but their memories afterwards were very foggy.
Especially lately, it seemed like every possible spectator he questioned could
not remember certain things.  The overall picture, that they had been attacked
and saved, _that_ they remembered.  But very rarely did anyone recall anything
about the attacker or the savior.

Williams sighed to himself as he rounded another bend in the corridor.  This
was going to be another wild goose chase.  Still, it was just barely possible
that the one who had attacked the crook was-  He paused in his thoughts.  He
did not really know what he wanted the creature to be.

He opened the door and walked quietly into the darkened room, nodding to the
others present.  On the other side of the glass three men sat at a table.  One
was the prisoner, called El Provoro by the cops for his ability to get out of
any situations.  His real name was Curt Russell, and he was the leader of a
small but annoying gang in the neighborhood.

Quietly, Peter sat down, for the interview had already begun.

"-that right?"

Provoro sighed. "I told you, yes."

"Please stick to the answers.  All right then, describe what happened to you
today."

A fleeting shiver passed over the prisoner. "Look, all I was doing-  Me and the
gang- the one that I hang around with-"  He stumbled for a few moments, then
looked up. "Look, I don't care what you do to me, just keep me away from that
thing."

"Relax," the interrogator replied with a slight smile.  "We are not about to
let you get torn to shreds, not after you gave yourself up after all the
trouble you've caused."

Provoro did not even flinch. "All right.  We were going to shake down this guy
and his girl, nothing special.  We weren't gonna hurt them if they'd just give
us the money, but the guy just told us that he wouldn't.  And y'know, I can't
let stuff like that go, 'cause then all 'll think I'm some kind of punk, so we
attacked.  And-"  He paused, breathing quickly. "I never saw anything like that
in my life.  I mean, he just stood there, y'know, just let himself get hit with
the club- and it broke, I'm telling ya, it broke in two.  Scared the friggin-"
He seemed to realize he was being recorded and did not finish the sentence.
"Scared Blade to hell- that's the guy he that tried to hit him w'the bat.  Then
behind him, Sting, he pro'bly didn't see too well what hapen'd and he swung a'
iron bar at the guy.  Then.... then.. I'm not sure what happened then, but
Sting smashed into the wall, and I sud'nly realized that the girl weren't doing
nothing, so I grab her and I hold this knife to her throat, see?  So's he can't
do notin'.  Only.."  He paused, his eyes wide.

"Yes," the interviewer prompted gently.

"I'm not sure.  I really don't know," he threw up his hands, "next thing I
remember is my knife's on the ground, so's the girl, and I'm hanging in midair
by my neck."  He rubbed it with one hand subconsciously. "Just grabbed me by
the throat and lifted me off the ground.. but it wasn't even that which really
scared me.. it..  I.. "  He stalled. "No.  Look...  Isn't what I said enough?"  
His voice had an honest frightened edge in it, and Williams shifted in his seat.  
So far, there had been nothing to suggest anything supernatural, except maybe 
the club shattering.  But that could be exaggeration.  So far, it seemed like 
a chance encounter with a very strong guy skilled in martial arts.

"Please continue," the interviewer said, glancing briefly at the glass of water
in front of him.

"When I was hanging there.. everything going black.. it was.. I.. I looked at
him.  I mean, I really looked at him.  Before, he'd been wearin' this sweater,
and jeans, I think.. no.. I'm not sure..  But then, when he grabbed me, he was
black.. I mean, completely black, like he was standing in the shadows.  And he
was standing in the sun too, no kidding.  Then..  then I looked into his eyes."
Provoro paused. "No, I can't.  Too much.  I.. they were not just black.. more
than that.. like deep wells of hatred.. evil, just radiating from it.  I don't
know.  I don't _know_!"

"All right, all right," the interrogator soothed. "It's OK.  Look, go back to
the part where you saw them first.  Do you remember what they looked like?"

The prisoner nodded, slowly calming. "Um.. they walked through a patch of
sunlight, so I got a good look at them.  The girl.. like.. I don't know, maybe
fifteen or sixteen.  I'm not sure.  Long blonde hair, though, very pretty."

"Anything else?"  When Provoro shook his head, he nodded.  "What about the
guy?"

The prisoner's breathing quickened once more. "Yeah, I got a good look at him.
He was.."  Provoro paused. "His hair..."  He paused again, for a long time.

"Yes?"

"I... I.. "  Provoro's voice dropped to a whisper, barely loud enough to be
picked up by a microphone. "I don't remember.. I swear I saw him.. but I don't
remember.. like someone wiped everything away I.. I.. I don't know!"  He
screamed suddenly.

To William's side, an officer motioned to him as he walked out, and the
detective followed, closing the door quietly, though the room was soundproof.

"Well, what do you think?"

"I don't know," the detective answered, subconsciously repeating Curt 
Russell's last phrase.

The other looked at Williams, obviously surprised. "Seems like an obvious
exaggeration to me.  Black eyes?  Can't remember?  The guy got frightened and
now he's making up stories to cover up.  It was probably just some guy
defending his girlfriend- good for him.  And good for us- now we've got this
guy in jail, where he can't harass people any more.  Nothing interesting."  He
shrugged and walked away.

For a long time, Peter remained in the corridor. Finally, he moved, slowly
walking toward his office, then glanced back to the room. "I'm not so sure," he
said to empty air.


_	_	_



"I wonder why he did not pick us up?"

Artemis jumped out of the car, shaking off his usual car sickness and allowing
the rather cramped company to pile out.  "I don't know, Lita, but something
must be wrong for him to break the usual routine like that."  The white cat
tried not to show the scouts his concern as he led the way to the house, but he
looked with worry at the black shape that fell in to one side.  "Luna?" He
asked quietly.

The black cat shrugged. "I have no idea.  You know him better than I."

Artemis sighed.  "Or I should anyway."  Once more he wondered why Mina had
refused to say anything on the way over.  "Lately, he has been acting-"  They
walked into the house and stopped, seeing Nakiad.  The Chosen's face was calm,
but something in his eyes made the white cat shiver and look away.

"So what's this all about?"  Lita asked.

Nakiad looked at the group, then turned and motioned them to follow him. "I
think you had better see this."  No tremor showed in his voice, but the white
cat had known him far too long.  Something was wrong.

Wrong enough to scare the last of the Chosen.


_	_	_



The blade came out of the darkness with no warning, the gray blurring toward
Nakiad's face.  He reacted instantly, avoiding the edge, facing his attackers.
There were two of them, dressed in black, their faces covered, both wielding
long swords.  Nakiad carried no weapons and was dressed in torn gray coveralls,
not his usual gi.  

Soundlessly one of the attackers swung at him, eyes staring malevolently from
beyond the mask, but Nakiad avoided the thrust easily, melting back into
darkness, almost merging with the shadows.  The other creature stayed back,
unable to attack effectively within the narrow passageway and Nakiad moved
underneath the next strike. The Chosen flashed sharply forward, smashing the
creature's arm, numbing it, then striking with full force at the attacker's
neck.

Mina breathed in sharply, looking at the screen.  On it, the creature collapsed
to the ground, obviously dead, and Nakiad raised his arms once more, ready for
the next attacker.  

Dead, just like that.

"Nakiad," she managed to say, and the playback paused.

"Yes?"  His eyes were still dark, his face impassive, but it was becoming more
and more obvious that the expression was a mask to hide his feelings.  

She looked at the screen once more, the second creature frozen in the middle of
an attack.  She paused, looking closely, and saw a wound running across the
raised forearm of the Nakiad on the screen.  Mina's eyes dropped involuntarily
to the real Nakiad as he stood next to her.  His forearm was hidden, but she
had already seen the scar.  "Just how realistic is this simulation?" she asked
quietly.

He was obviously prepared for the question. "You have all seen the virtual
reality combat simulators, and the gyms."  He glanced at a blank wall and it
lit up into another oversized screen.  A gray ball appeared on it, then the
dull color disappeared, leaving the wireframe of a sphere. "This is a
representation of my house.  The top of the sphere is at surface level, where
the main access is.  Around there is the garage, the living quarters, and
various other rooms.  Most of what you have seen so far is this-" again, the
screen changed.  The sphere remained, but a segment of it was highlighted, a
wedge going from the upper portion to the center.

Raye interrupted sharply. "You said that you had given us full access to the
house and everything in it.

Nakiad's lips twitched. "If you had gone exploring, you would have eventually
discovered the rest of the complex, but the upper levels were built over a long
period of time, with no definite plan.  You never had a good chance to find
your way through the maze of passageways.  Lower, things are more 
organized."  The screen changed once more, this time a large portion 
of the sphere accented.  Perhaps two thirds of the ball were shown, 
wrapped around the middle and extending all the way to all sides of the
sphere.  The new area looked like a large distorted doughnut.  However, it left
a lot of space in the center, the bottom, and the top.  "This is the area in
question."

Darian sat forward. "In question how?"

"Well, technically speaking, this-" Nakiad looked back at the frozen screen,
"is as close as I can get to actual combat.  Virtual reality is useful, but it
trains the mind only, not the body.  And it is not real, no matter how
realistic it may seem.  At the same time, gym exercises are just that,
exercises." He paused, gesturing to the screen showing the wireframe. "This
area, the torus, is a combination of the two, an actual live battleground, with
enemies that are created out of a combination of new age and Silver Millennium
technology.  And the fighting is quite real."

Nakiad paused, and the highlight disappeared, leaving the full ball displayed.
"The diameter of the whole sphere is slightly less than one kilometer."
Everyone sat up at that, surprised.  They had all suspected that he had a vast
underground complex, but nothing that large.  "The torus is more than one half
of its full volume, giving me a large area to work with.  It is also extremely
malleable, it changes each time I use it, the computer randomly creating series
of obstacles for me to go through.  Some of those obstacles are longer than
others." He lowered his eyes.

"Nakiad," Serena looked around almost as if she were surprised at herself for
speaking. "Um.. just out of curiosity, how long have you been in this..
obstacle course, at the time of this recording.  No offense, but you look kind
of wild."

He looked darkly at her. "Perceptive.  In order to simulate actual combat as
well as possible, I have to at least partly forget that this is a simulation.
The computer takes certain precautions to assure that my chances of dying are
not as great as I think they are, but the whole exercise is useless if I know I
am in no danger.  And although mental techniques sometimes allow me to
selectively 'forget' certain things, ignoring what is real and what is not is
difficult.  It requires a mind in less than top condition.  Therefore some of
these things go on for quite a while.  I am sure you all wondered where I was
last week, and that is your answer."  He looked at the movie screen, and a
series of statistics lit up at the top of the display. "The counter on the very
left is the time elapsed since the beginning of the exercise."  

It said 151 : 32 : 57.92

Luna looked at him quietly. "Over six days. With no food or sleep, I bet."

"But no one can survive without sleep," Lita said slowly.

Amy raised an eyebrow. "Actually, that is not true.  No one knows what sleep
is, or what it is really for."  She seemed to be talking on automatic, her mind
thinking of something else. "There is a lot of evidence, for example, for REM
sleep being the time for the mind to file information, whatever that means.
But that is not an explanation, there are too many contradictions.  For
example, there are a very few cases of ordinary people who simply do not sleep,
at all.  And even for normal people, actual rules do not seem to exist.  In
times of stress, people can go without sleeping for extremely long periods of
times.  There are many reports of people in combat situations who have gone for
weeks without sleeping.  Also, the reverse is true, people in dull
circumstances tend to fall asleep almost immediately.  Then there is the way
the natural human cycle of sleep is actually closer to a thirty six hour cycle,
with twenty four hours of wakefulness followed by twelve hours of-"

"Amy," Nakiad interrupted.

The blue scout looked at him. "Sorry.  It's just that-" She glanced at the
screen, her face pale.

He nodded. "You're correct, no one really understands sleep.  If you wish, you
may add me to the list of inconsistencies, for I do not ever truly sleep.  I
merely rest.  But I do need that rest, and a week of constant combat is a lot
to go through.  After a while, the reality of the situation deteriorates
because of the lack of energy, and it becomes difficult for me to tell what is
real from what is not."

Amy looked at him, her eyes hard. "Barbaric," she whispered.

Raye glanced at her, then back at Nakiad. "But effective."

"Q. E. D.," the Chosen said calmly, then turned to Amy. "It is also the only
way to simulate combat completely," he said softly.

Artemis cleared his throat. "You did not call us here to tell us about your
system."

Nakiad's eyes flickered.  "No, I did not."  His voice was tired, Mina suddenly
realized, more tired than she remembered it to have ever been. The movie
flickered, then continued.

Incredibly, Nakiad blocked the second attacker's blade, catching it flat with
his bare hands, then he twisted it, sending it flying out of the creature's
grip.  In a split second, this attacker was dead as well, its throat crushed by
a hard fist.  The Chosen glanced around fleetingly, the picked up the blade
from the ground.  Effortlessly, he brought it smashing down against a pipe
running down the length of the corridor.  The blade rang true, unbroken, Nakiad
looked at it for a moment before tucking it into the harness on his back.

A moment later he was out of the corridor, into a larger room filled with
pipes.  The darkness was still there, however, and his feet bent even further,
his center of mass shifting down toward the ground, toward stability.  A faint
mechanical sound came from one side, and instantly, he whirled, flowing to face
the new threat.  A blast of white energy lanced out at him, briefly
illuminating a creature with a gun.  Nakiad ducked, flowing away from the white
fire, but another blast followed.  Noiselessly, the sword was in his hands and
the white energy smashed into the mirror-like surface.  A brief discharge of
white later the attacker was on the ground, a hole from its own weapon seared
into its chest, and Nakiad was turning, evading yet another creature with a
sword.

The blow smashed into Nakiad's sword, which had gone up instantly, but the
resulting sound was dull, off pitch.  The Chosen's blade shattered at the point
where the blast had hit, and he was left holding a short broken-off end of the
sword.  This end flashed and became embedded in the silent enemy's throat,
almost magically.

The creature went down, but the Chosen was already moving, avoiding another
slash at him.  The attack slammed into a pipe, Nakiad, no longer there.  Then
he came out of the shadows from behind, smashing into the new attacker.  The
other whirled and a trap door opened under both of them.  

They dropped into blackness, Nakiad grappling for the creature, seemingly
unsurprised.

The view switched again, to another corridor, this one a lot brighter.  From
above, Nakiad and the creature dropped to the ground.  The Chosen landed in
silent balance without any obvious injuries.  The creature smashed into the
ground and crumpled into a heap, its throat having been cut on the way down.
Nakiad made the short knife in his hand disappear, then glanced at the fallen
opponent before turning away.

He briefly glanced up and down his path, then ran silently toward the brighter 
end of the corridor.  Mina swallowed as yet another shape charged him from a 
shadowed spot, but he flowed out of its way, almost automatically.  She 
wondered how he knew that these things were coming, then remembered the 
lack of sleep.  At this point, she realized suddenly, he could not possibly have 
been completely aware, he had to have been running on instinct alone.  She 
remembered how he had told them of his first escape from the knight, when 
he had been unconscious and his body had reacted automatically to save 
him.  She looked at the screen in silent horror.  No wonder he was acting 
like an animal, she thought silently, and glanced across at Amy.  The other 
girl's face reflected Mina's own feelings, but the orange scout forced herself 
to watch.  There had to be a reason for his showing this.

Nakiad had dodged the first attack, but the creature came back once more.  It
carried no weapons, but it did not need them.  It radiated hatred and strength,
its stance almost a mirror image of Nakiad's as they faced each other, moving
slowly in a circle.

The creature struck out first, one clawed hand blocked by the Chosen, the other
reaching for his throat and one limber leg striking for his stomach.  It was
impossible to avoid all three strikes.

He avoided them, flowing around the strikes like inky water.  But the other
creature snarled and retained its grasp on one arm.  Nakiad reversed his
motion, throwing himself against the opponent, striking it before it could
react, then shifted his weight, using its grip against it and throwing it into
the ground.

It held on and a clawed foot snaked out, tripping him so he fell on top of the
creature.  They grappled, and Nakiad's face hardened and became more
animalistic as it became obvious that the enemy was stronger, far too strong
for Nakiad to win such a fight.  Slowly, his hands were forced down, and the
two rolled over so the enemy was on top.  The attacker's face came closer to
Nakiad's, and the Chosen could do nothing, their bodies now almost overlapping,
the creature covering him.

Nakiad shifted suddenly, changing his grip, one hand encircling the attacker's
side, and it snarled suddenly.  Mina wondered what was going on, then saw what
looked like steam rising from each side and realized that Nakiad was freezing
the creature's skin, absorbing energy through his hands.  But without the power 
of the Chosen, the natural talent was undeveloped.

The creature snarled once more and raised a razor clawed hand, preparing to
strike.  Then something flashed between them and it was thrown away, clear of
the Chosen.  Nakiad got to his feet smoothly but he was leaning to one side a
bit, his clothes torn in several new places, blood showing in several places.
The wounds would heal almost immediately, but they would also make it difficult
for him to fight there and then.

The attacker had landed on its feet, and snarled again.  It seemed unharmed,
Mina thought with astonishment.  Nakiad could drain a lot of energy in a short
time, and he had had several seconds.  No creature ought to be have been able
to stand after that and the discharge, yet it did not even seem hampered.
Whatever it was, it was resistant to that power, Mina realized, and that meant
Nakiad was in serious trouble.  She frowned suddenly, noticing her detachment
and swore at her love silently for teaching them so much tactics that she could
not help evaluating the situation.

They came together once more, but the creature was unstoppable, it forced
Nakiad back.  Step by step he moved backward, toward the source of the light in
the tunnel, toward its mouth.  All the time, he was retreating, almost within
reach yet somehow staying out of the other's grip, not submitting to its
power.

Then the camera view changed, and Mina gasped.  She had gotten used to the
angles changing to keep the action in plain view, but this time the shift was
extreme.  Before, she had seen the corridor leading into just white light, but
now she was seeing the opening from the other side, and she saw what it led out
onto.

It was a sheer drop-off.  The corridor opened up in the middle of a cliff, with
vertical walls rising to all sides, blocking off all directions of movement
except for down.  A hundred, two hundred meters below an ocean smashed itself
against sharp rocks, spires that would kill anyone who dropped from the tunnel.
And that was the direction the creature was forcing Nakiad, the Chosen
obviously unaware of the fall.

A step, another, another.  Nakiad suddenly shifted his movement, his motions
more direct, quick as he avoided the others attacks.  Then one of the rocks
under his feet moved and he stumbled, too tired or hurt to recover instantly as
she had seen him do a thousand times before in their training.  In a lightning
motion, the creature grasped his arms, clenching its fists, and threw itself at
Nakiad.  They collapsed with the creature on top and the upper half of Nakiad's
body sticking out over nothingness.  For arduous seconds they fought, the
Chosen's fury plainly visible on his face as he put every ounce of strength he
had into getting the creature off.

It did not even move aside.  Slowly, Nakiad was moved backward, further onto
the cliff.  Another minute and he would be over the edge.  Light flashed
between them once more and Mina realized he had used his draining power again.
But the creature had been ready this time, it merely absorbed the blow and
snarled, then continued pressing, Nakiad never getting any advantage.

Mina breathed in as Nakiad began to slide backward faster, to fall off the
cliff.  And at the last moment he sprang into motion.  One foot came down on
the edge of the cliff as he began to fall, and he thrust.

Down, into the canyon.  

His legs threw him out into nothingness, and the creature never had a chance to
let go.  Both began the fall, almost in slow motion.

As he went over the edge Nakiad curled into a ball, then sprang out again,
facing in a new direction, and his bent feet touched the smooth wall.  He
straightened his legs, kicking out as hard as he could against the cliff,
shoving himself forward, away from the rocks directly below.

The creature made no sound as it smashed into the rocks.

To one side, Nakiad turned a patch of water into fine mist spreading out into
the air as his form disappeared under the heaving surface.

The camera switched again, to an underwater view.  The Chosen's tunic was off,
and his gills were plainly visible.  He was gasping, running water over them as
quickly as he could to oxygenate his body so he could recover from the close
escape when a shadowy movement made him spin around, facing a new enemy.

A second later gaping jaws passed through the water where he would have been.
An instant before, he had leapt forward through the water, swimming as well as
any fish.  

The image dissolved into flashes of dark bodies in murky water, and Mina could
not longer tell what was going on.  For long moments, the dark motion
continued, and she felt her fingers tensing with dread.  She forced herself to
look at Nakiad next to her and relax.

Then the camera view went above water as Nakiad surfaced, gasping for air.
Though his gills were open, they did not seem to be enough to fuel his body for
underwater combat.  Mina wondered again what creature the jaws belonged to.

He waded to shore a few moments later, struggling to remain above the water and
collapsed on the ground.  A shallow cut went across his chest, already closed.
He had lost the blade in the water, and the fight had been clearly knocked out
of him.  He did not seem to have the strength to get up.

He moved.  With obvious pain, he forced his body upright, standing up, and for
a moment his eyes were looking directly at the camera, and Mina saw them.

So did the other scouts, for her gasp was echoed by at least some of them.  All
of Mina's senses were focused on those eyes.  They were animal, not resembling
anything human at all as they stared directly at her.  The creature standing
there was not Nakiad, that was impossible, she thought.  It was smart and
cunning, and could fight impossibly well, but that creature was not human.  A
wave of disgust washed over Mina, then something made her turn to one side.

Nakiad stood there, forgotten by the rest, blending into the shadows.  And he
was looking back at Mina, pain written clearly on his face.  With a new type of
horror, Mina remembered their link, that he could feel her own strong emotions
in the same way she could sometimes feel his.  She swallowed, ashamed of her
feelings, hoping he forgave her, then realized that those feelings were not
just her own, they were being echoed by him.  He, too was ashamed of that
creature on the screen and he looked down, avoiding her eyes.  

She sobbed internally, almost crying, wishing to say that he had no reason to
be afraid, that the creature on the screen was not, could not be he.  He looked
up at her once more, and she wondered if he had understood her emotions, then
he looked at her directly and dragged his eyes across to the screen.  And a
wave of pain washed over her, mental pain that was almost physical.  

She forced herself to look, though she knew that there was worse to come.  With
that single pained glance, he had told her that.

He was in another corridor, one half full of water, a tunnel he had entered
from the shore.  Slowly, it inclined up, hiding the daylight behind it, and the
water receded, but Mina could feel the dampness even through the screen, the
utterly cold feel of the air.  But Nakiad continued, his motions firm despite
his injuries, his movement as stealthy as ever in the slowly gathering
darkness.  Mina blinked as he started to fade into the blackness despite the
gray clothes, then she saw something in the darkness.

A shadow flashed out at him, a creature with its arms raised to attack, but
Nakiad did not even try to avoid the rush.  In one liquid movement, his arm
flashed out at the other's throat, and the attacker collapsed.  Mina shivered a
little at the sheer reflexiveness of it all.  He had seen and killed in one
smooth motion, not bothering with any preliminaries, never even identifying the
attacker.  Like a wild animal, he reacted instantly and lethally, then ignored
that object unless it had something of value to him.  Something else flickered
at the edges of the screen, interrupting her thoughts.

Nakiad had seen it too, for he went down once more, getting into a fighting
stance, scanning the surroundings.  The tunnel had widened as he went, and now
its walls were no longer visible.  Again, that flash of color, white.  And an
image sprang into Mina's mind as the partially visible image assembled itself
in her imagination into something too familiar to bear.

"No," she breathed, but Nakiad did not hear, could not hear.  Slowly, he
started forward again, his movements completely silent.

A shadow of a whisper started in one corner of the cave, and Mina swallowed
with difficulty, suddenly sure she knew what was to come.

"Mercury."  The word came out of the darkness, spoken in a quiet, confident
voice, and Nakiad flinched from it as if it were a physical blow.

"Bubbles  Blast."

Nakiad whirled toward the source of that cry, and Mina saw his face straight
on.  He gaped in horror and surprise as a blast of fog surrounded him, making
the darkness even more impenetrable, though somehow he remained visible.  He
screamed suddenly, an inhuman cry of rage and pain, and Mina flinched back,
surprised.  Until then he had been completely silent, methodical, never
attracting any more attention than necessary.  And he had been composed, 
while now he whirled in the same place, not even trying to avoid any attack 
that might come.

Out of the fog another voice came, hard and cruel.  As if the words were
physical blows, Nakiad flinched, his animal eyes wide open. "Jupiter thunder
CRASH!"  He never tried to dodge the bolt of lightning that came out of the
darkness and it sent him to one side, screaming in pain.  But still he did not
react, still he stood, unmoving, completely astonished.

Then another voice attacked him, and this time it was Mina who flinched.  

It was her own voice, hardened and without any humanity in it. 

"Venus," it said, and Mina mouthed the words unconsciously, repeating what her
imitation was saying. "Crescent Beam SMASH!"  

Horrified, Mina remembered the last time that attack had been directed at
Nakiad.  She had almost killed him.

The lance of light came out of the darkness, and something inside Nakiad
snapped as it hit.  

He turned black.

The darkest black the orange scout had ever seen washed over his body,
and he roared.  But this time the roar was one of hatred, not surprise, 
as the blast hit his midnight form.

He did not flinch away from the impact, he did not turn aside from the blast.
He allowed it to hit him, and the blast vanished into the darkness completely,
absorbed by the shadowed flesh.  Eyes as black as night turned as he moved,
flashing into the darkness.

The camera view followed him as he smashed into a white suited figure.  The
imitation green scout never had a chance as his hand lashed out, hitting her in
the chest with a killing blow.  But he did not stop as she started to collapse
backwards.  Again he slashed at her, and again, pure hatred rising from his
form, visible even through the screen.  Jupiter's face turned red, blood
stained Nakiad's hands as he literally tore into her.  

A blast of fire crashed into his back, and he stopped, recovering his
balance instantly.

He turned, hatred flashing from those eyes, his hands splashed with red, the
green scout lying emotionlessly on the floor, most of her front torn apart, the
green uniform and fair flesh obscured completely by the flow of crimson.

The blast of fire burned through him without changing his darkness. He raised
his arms, absorbing the flames into himself, erasing the fire with his touch.
Then, as the attack died around him, he snarled and leapt forward, one foot
extended.  The foot slammed into the red scout's throat, hurling her backward,
then he hit her again, and again.  Suddenly he ducked, as a blast of ice came
at him, and he rolled away.  The cold attack slammed into the fake scout of
mars, freezing pain and surprise on her dead face.

He snarled as a blast of pure energy came toward him, but leapt aside from the
attack of the moon, avoiding the strike of the scepter.  Then he leapt forward
at the dim shape, but another figure slammed into him from behind, an
orange-clad scout, Sailor Venus.

He threw her aside with a single lunge, tossing her to the ground in front of
him, and flowed forward as she got up, his rush unstoppable.  His fist blurred
toward her throat.

And his frame flickered suddenly, changed from shadowed black to normal,
then back.  His movement slowed slightly, as something in his eyes flashed.

But he did not stop.

His fist crushed into her throat, the larynx collapsing under the blow.  She 
crumpled to the ground, and he stopped suddenly, the flickering of his body 
becoming quicker, more pronounced.  

His stance flickered slightly, and he held up his hands in front of him,
staring at the blood that covered his fingers.  His legs seemed to give out, 
and he moved slightly, then collapsed to the cround in a crumpled
heap.

His hands leapt up to his head, grasping his face, and he recoiled as if
struck.  He roared like a crazed animal, and spun in a circle on the ground, 
unable to get any bearings.

A blast of pure white light slammed into him, a blast of energy that was not
any of the scouts' powers, that was a pure white beam.  He allowed the 
energy to strike.  Slowly, almost imperceptibly, his frame lightened as he
sank deeper to the ground.  The power of those beams held on to his frame, not
allowing him to get up.  His head hit the ground hard, and he continued to lie
there.  Slowly, the lights extinguished.

He did not move, his frame frozen, his body at rest.

The blood on his hands had rubbed off on his face, and the red flashed
ominously in the darkness.

The picture faded out.



No one said anything.  No one was sure what should be said, but slowly, they
all turned away from the blank screen, forcing themselves to move, and they
looked at Nakiad.

He said nothing for a moment, staring at the floor, then he looked up, his eyes
flashing with pain.

"And I thought it was over."  His voice was old, tired.  "I thought the
prophesy had been fulfilled, that the plight of the Chosen was finally over.
But although I could see that which none of the Chosen had seen-"  He did not
finish the sentence, pausing for a few moments.

He glanced at the screen. "I was not sure what had happened to me there, when I
went through that training course.  I thought it would be like any other.  The
computer designs new obstacles for me every time, picking certain elements from
its memory.  It was designed to train me to defend myself against any threat,
and obviously you could be a threat if you were to turn against me.  It was
programmed to take that into account.  But my reaction was not what it expected
so-" He stopped.

"I was not sure if I was going to tell you this, or show you the video.  I
thought-"  His voice grew soft. "I thought maybe, it was just a shadow from the
past, something that would not happen again."  He paused, and it was obvious
that Nakiad had never believed that. "But today, when I was walking with Mina,
several fools tried to rob us, and I reacted-" Again, he paused. "I'm not sure
what happened, but I reacted like an animal, I could not stop myself, I could
not control myself.  I could see myself doing what I was doing, but it was as
if every rational part of me had shut down and turned itself hatred.  Only
Mina's interference saved the life of one of the people who attacked us.

His eyes flashed. "And I am not sure what is happening to me.  Once before-"
He shook his head. "The powers of good and evil inside me are too strong, they
can not exist in the same place.  For now, the good, the white power is
dominant.  But a month ago, I felt-  The imbalance suddenly increased then, and
the two powers are fighting for control, and I do not know how much longer I
can contain it.  And when-"

His eyes flashed.

"When I lose control, I am not sure I will get it back again.  The first time,
the computer seemed to realize that my actions were not normal, and it attacked
me with those rays, forcing me to stop.  But the first transformation seemed to
make me more vulnerable to the next, with Mina.  I fear that now, even a
smaller stimulus will be required, and the consequences would be disastrous.  I
do not know how little it will take to free the dark side again.  But I know
that I will have no control over that dark creature if it breaks loose.  Each
time, it is harder to turn back, and I do not know if I can do so again, if
this happens again."

He fell silent, for several long minutes, and the others began to emerge from a
sort of hypnotic state induced by the information.  They, too, had thought that
the fight with the darkness was over, and now they were facing another problem,
only a short time after they finally started to relax.  For a long time, none
of them said anything.

Darian sat forward. "All right.  What can we do?"

Nakiad shook his head softly. "I do not know.  I do not know what caused the
sudden increase in the imbalance.  I do know how to guide it, but my control is
simply not good enough.  The first time it took a lot, but then the next it was
a far smaller thing.  The next time- I do not know."  He was repeating himself,
but did not seem aware of it.

The prince sighed. "What do you remember?"  He seemed the least affected by the
video, not having attacked Nakiad in it.

"I-" Nakiad paused. "I am not sure.  I remember the darkness overflowing me,
and I remember-  If you have ever really lost your temper, that is how it was.
The things I did had reason behind them, but the control was not there, the
sanity was gone.  As if no emotion existed in me except for anger and
darkness."

"Then how did you get back?"

The Chosen shook his head. "I have no clue.  The first time, when I woke up
after those blasts," Amy stirred at that for some reason but remained silent,
"I was already back.  And the second time-" He was thinking, obviously trying
to remember. "When Mina was yelling at me, it was as if it was coming from a
great distance, and I suddenly just realized what I was doing.  But I am not
sure."

Amy breathed out, then joined the two.  "Wait, I remember." She paused, trying
to gather her thoughts. "When you were training, right after you hit the
simulation of Sailor Venus, you looked at your hands as if you were shocked at
the sight of blood. Then you started turning back."

He nodded. "Yes.  It was like something hit me across my face, like a shock
that stops hysterics in some people.  I realized what I was doing.." He trailed
off, realizing how similar this was to the other incident, then looked at Mina.
"And both times, you were involved."

Mina did not reply, merely looking at him.

"When-" He paused, flinching slightly under her stare, but continued. "When the
pseudo scouts attacked me, I did not become truly dark until the beam hit me.
Then later, it was when I killed the orange scout that I stopped.  And later,
in the street, Mina-" He stopped. "I do not know.  All the things I know about
the Chosen seem so far away now.  I can not remember."  He laughed sadly.
"'History teaches us that people have never learned anything from history.'"

"Hegel," Amy said automatically, identifying the quote.

Luna glanced at both of them, slightly irritated. "This is serious, scouts."
Nakiad glanced at her with dark humor at the understatement, but did not
interrupt the black cat. "We know what may be a cause of this, and how it is
triggered.  But we do not know how to deal with it or-"

"Anything else," Artemis finished for her.  There was a strange look in the
white cat's eyes. "Look, maybe this is enough for today.  I think we could all
use a bit of time to think about this, and recover.  We should meet again
tomorrow and see what we can figure out.  I don't see what we can do about this
anyway."

Listlessly, the scouts stirred, slowly getting up, Darian among them.  Nakiad,
too got up.

"Darian?"  He asked quietly.

"Yes?"  The prince looked at him calmly, disguising his emotions.

"Can you take the others home?  I need to think."

"Sure.  And Nakiad-"

The other looked up.

"It'll work out." Darian glanced at Serena, who was almost at the door. "If we
worked out," he said, nodding at the princess, "anything can."

Nakiad nodded gratefully. "Perhaps it will."

For a few moments, Nakiad remained alone with his thoughts, then a touch at his
elbow woke him up.  Surprised at not having heard anyone approach, he looked
up.

It was Amy.  A far away rational part of Nakiad's mind wondered if perhaps the
computer was right to think the scouts were a threat, if one could come up to
him without his notice.  No, he thought, he was distracted.  That was why he
had not felt her. "Amy?" He asked as normally as he could manage.

"I'll catch up to the others in a moment, but I have a question for you.  The
thing with the computer.  It kind of bothers me.  Well, you never told us what
kind of computer you have, or at least never explained how it works.  How did
it know that you were not behaving normally?  And why did it react the way it
did?"

Nakiad just looked at her for a second. "I don't know." He sighed. "Seems to be
an overused phrase today, but I do not."

"I was just thinking," Amy continued, "if it is possible that someone could be
controlling it from the outside, someone who has breached your security.  That
might also explain the strange increase in the unbalance, if they were messing
with some kind of environment factors here."

Nakiad frowned. "It does not make sense.  Why would someone make the problem,
then fix it when it finally reached it's peak?  And I do not think anyone could
breach the security of the system anyway, there are not that many links to the
outside."

Amy nodded quietly. "I was just wondering.  I have to go and catch up to the
others."  She turned, then stopped. "And Nakiad.  That creature that killed the
scouts."

"Yes?"

"He wasn't you."  She looked down. "Just remember that, all right?"  She ran to
catch up to her friends.
 
Nakiad stared after her, and after she was gone, he sighed.  "But wasn't he?"
the Chosen asked the empty room.

His thoughts turned to Amy's idea about the computer.  No, he thought, there is
no reason for anyone to mess with my mind, then undo the damage.  He blinked, a
sudden idea coming into his mind.  There was no reason for anyone to do what
seemed to have been done.

Unless they were testing how well they could manipulate him.

For a while, he sat alone in the darkness, thinking over the idea, but he could
not make it out.  Nothing could be controlling the computer from the outside,
it was secure.  Nothing could be influencing the environment in a way that
would affect his mind.

He forgot about that problem, his thoughts drifting into the past.

He was wrong.

_	_	_


"Yes, detective?"

Peter Williams smiled at the secretary.  He had repeated this ritual every day
for almost a year, and he had learned that when she started being coy, she had
information for him. "Did I get any mail?"  He asked, wondering how old this
particular report was.  Generally, he got information at least several months
after it was current, because of the interference of his opposition.

She pretended to look through the neat piles of papers on her desk. "I don't
think so."  He grinned inwardly, waiting.  She pretended to be surprised. "Ah,
yes, here's something.  A file from-"

He took it from her and bowed before she finished. "Thank you," he said,
walking away.  She smiled at his back, then turned back to her own work.



Somewhat suspiciously, he examined the rather large envelope.  The return
address was to another police division on the other side of the city, which was
somewhat strange.  That one dealt mostly with more technological issues, like
satellite imaging and global positioning satellites.  And the request he had
sent was-  He halted in his thoughts, having reached his desk, and got the
letter opener out of his desk.  One neat slice sent the contents sprawling
across his relatively clean desk, and he batted aside other papers to make more
room.

Inside the envelope was a file and a separate sheet of paper, a letter.  Dated
from- he sighed.  The report was six months old, and had been sent off two 
months earlier, to three incorrect locations before reaching him.  Whoever 
was trying to keep him in the dark was certainly doing a good job.  He scanned 
down the page.  Return address, target address, return phone number, name 
of detective-  He sighed and started at the top of the actual report.

'This information is being brought to you in response to your request for any
reports connected with the abnormal activities in Tokyo, such as supernormal
creatures attacking and disappearing for no apparent reason.  The information
is eyes only-'  Peter scanned down the rest of the page, his mind having
absorbed with what the letter had really said.  He had sent for that report 
three months earlier, and it had only come now.

He opened the folder, and started reading it.



I came across this information quite by accident, when taking inventory of
satellite images of the western part of Tokyo after having read several
articles on the strange attacks on the city by unnatural creatures.  This
information and any conclusions made in the document are classified.  All the
information in the report is to be considered still under investigation, and
none is to be taken as fact.

Several satellites focus on Tokyo, weather satellites and communication
satellites, and others. Several of these scan other spectra than the visible
one, and a certain house has been a mystery in this department for some time.
Since the first photographs of the first satellite put into orbit over the
city, the house and the surrounding region have had very strong signatures in
several areas of the electromagnetic spectrum.  Although it is impossible, the
overall signature corresponds to a low level hydrogen explosion carried out
under considerable shielding.  Current tests of fusion as a possible source of
energy have led me to hypothesize that this power signature results from a
hydrogen fusion plant.  However, because many scientists say that this is
impossible and because of the lack of evidence, I reserve my judgment.

The house in question is otherwise also a mystery.  It, and a very large area
around it has been in the hands of an extremely reclusive family for as far
back as accurate ownership records exist.  The family is the Shaws family, but
few people have seen members of it.  Over the past several years, all
transactions having to do with the house and its property, such as taxes, have
been done by a Nick Shaws, who is assumed to be the current leader of the
family.  Further information is restricted.

The power signature of the house varies considerably over time.  Over the past
several years, in particular, there have been several very large fluctuations.
While glancing at the dates of these fluctuations, I realized that they
corresponded to other, seemingly unrelated events.  Without making things too
complex technologically, there is a certain signature, a flash of sorts, that
corresponds with extraordinary accuracy to the unexplained phenomena that have
been observed over the world and particularly in and around Tokyo.

Generally, the flash occurs within several minutes of the first sign of such an
occurrence, although there have been several times when either  flash or an
attack have occurred separately.  However, the frequency of these coincidences
is enough to base a further investigation.  I am awaiting orders on how to
proceed now.

George Ostenberg



Williams sat back with a slight sigh.  Quickly, he flipped through the rest of
the information in the folder.  It was a mix of reports of the incidents, most
of which the detective had already had seen, and the false color satellite
images that corresponded to those incidents.  Then there was a map of the
property, with the center of the emissions carefully labeled.  The center was
almost directly beneath the house, but that was not what made the detective sit
back and whistle, the scale of the map did that.  According to it, the property
occupied at least twenty square kilometers.  It was at the edge of Tokyo's
suburbs.  The amount of money that plot of land would cost-  His mind boggled
as he remembered what he had paid for his tiny apartment.

Shaking his head, he turned back to the report and frowned.  He was a detective
and knew what a normal report looked like, and this was not it.

First of all, it was an obvious rough draft.  The language was uneven, the
person speaking had not really proofread, had not worked on the information.
Even the format was incorrect, and the writer's emotions showed clearly through
where they were not supposed to.  So either the person had filed the wrong
report by accident, in which case the report would not have been sent.  Or
Williams had been sent the wrong report by the person who was trying to tell
him to keep away.  Which was also unlikely because the very roughness of the
report gave away valuable information.  The detective paused, thinking it
through.  The other option was that the officer never had a chance to redo the
report.

Now where had that thought come from? he asked himself, shaking his head, then
turned to the other problem.

The problem was the way the report was obviously unsupported.  There was no
explanation of the technology of the satellite images.  There was no
information on the house beyond the one paragraph summary.  There was
practically nothing.  

Williams blinked, thinking how he felt about being balked.  Ostenberg sounded
exactly like that.  Someone else who felt the same way, someone else who was
being kept from his duties.

The detective reached for the phone almost automatically, without thinking 
and picked it up, pressing the number for the secretary.

"Could you give me the west division, please?"  The secretary made a
noncommittal sound and the phone clicked.

"Yes?"  The voice was cordial, though not exactly overflowing with
friendliness.

"This is detective Peter Williams.  I received a report from your division, and
I need to know some more information.  Could I talk to the person who wrote
it?"

"Certainly.  Who was the report by?"

He picked up the folder, looking at the name to get the spelling. "A George
Ostenburg.  That's O-s-"

"I'm afraid that's not going to be possible."  The detective almost dropped the
phone at the sudden change in tone when the person at the other end
interrupted.  The voice had turned from cordial to openly hostile.

"Um.. "  Peter stumbled. "Why not?"

"Mr. Ostenburg is no longer with this division.  He went into early
retirement."

"Wha-" He paused, trying to get his thoughts straight. "When?"

"Six months ago."

Six months ago?  the detective asked himself, astonished.  The report he had
been reading was six months old.  Could it be possible?

"Is there anything else I can help you with?"  The voice had turned cordial
once more, but the coldness was still there.

"I don't think so.  I mean, yes, there is.  His report, could you see if any
information has been added to it?  It's dated six months ago, about the strange
attacks in the city."

"Certainly."  Williams listened to the blank phone for a few moments, then the
voice came back. "I am afraid that all further information is classified."  The
detective blinked, suddenly sure that the person at the other end had not had
the time to check anything, that he had been ready with the answer.  "Is there
anything else?"

"I.. I guess not."

The voice paused. "Detective Williams?"

"Yes?"

The voice was calm now. "Drop it."  

Two words.

Williams continued to listen to the blank silence until the dialing tone came
on, his mind still whirling with astonishment.  Slowly, almost automatically,
his hand went down, hanging up the phone.

For a long time, he stared out into thin air, still not sure of what to think.
It took a while for another idea to come to him.

He turned to his computer, turning it on and typing in the commands to send him
to the personnel database.  At the prompt, he typed in George Ostenburg.

For a moment, the screen was blank while the computer was accessing the
database through its phone line, then the information came up.

George Ostenburg was a married man with two kids.  He was thirty five years
old.

Thirty five?  According to the man Williams had spoken to, Ostenburg had gone
into early retirement.  Retired at thirty five, right after making that report?
Never even having the time to redo the final draft?  Somehow that did not seem
like a coincidence, the detective thought calmly, then pressed the key that
should have brought up a police history file on Ostenburg.

Instead, the screen was almost all blank.  At the very top was his name, his
rank, and current status, 'early retirement'.  The rest of the screen, which
should have contained data from all of his career, had only one word on it.

Classified.

Dumbly, Williams stared at the screen, shocked once more.  Whatever he had
stumbled over was big.  And it was not just an external matter, whoever was
doing this had access to their system, to someone high up.

Suddenly excited, the detective went back to the previous page.  He had seen
something that had not caught his attention at first, but something that was
there in the database for every person in Tokyo.  The home phone number was lit
up reassuringly.

He picked up the phone, dialing the extension for direct calls to the outside,
then dialed the number.  The phone rang several times, then someone picked it
up.

"Hello."  Calm male voice, Williams thought with detachment.  Then why do the
detective feel that speaker were afraid of something?

"Um.  Could I speak to a George Ostenberg?"

"He is I."

Williams smiled at the annoying but correct grammar. "I wanted to talk to you
about your report-"  He never had a chance to finish.

"Dammit, I've told you people to leave me alone!  I've already said everything
I intend to."

"Wait," again, Williams's mind froze at the unexpected change from politeness
to hostility. "I don't think you understand.  I'm a detective from-"

"You are not media?"  The hostility in the voice stepped away for a moment, but
was still there, ready to jump.

"No, of course not.  I'm a detective, Peter Williams.  I was reading your
report about the incidents and their correspondence to-"

"Look kid, you want a piece of advice?"

The detective would have bridled at the use of 'kid', since he was as old as
the other, but the retired policeman's voice was suddenly filled with age, so
Williams just nodded. Then he remembered he was talking on the phone. "What?"

"Leave it alone.  You can not do anything.  He controls everything."

"What?  Who controls everything?"

"I thought you said you read the report?"

"You mean this Nick Shaws."

"Leave it _alone_."

For the second time in ten minutes, someone hung up on Williams.  He did not
even realize he was simply sitting there staring into space until a hand jerked
him awake.

"Hey, Pete, you all right?"

"What?"  Williams turned around to see his friend. "Oh.  Yes, sure.  Fine.
What is it?"

"Well, I was listening to the recording of the report, you know, from the guy
who said he had been attacked by the black thing.  Curt Russell, remember?"

"And?"

"Most of it just goes on and on about blackness and pain and age, and mumbo
jumbo like that, but there is this one thing.  He says he remembers the girl
call the other man by his name."

Williams felt his eyes snap open. "What was it?"

"The kid said it was kind of blurred, since he was hanging by his neck at the
time, but he was almost positive that the girl had yelled out-" Michael
paused.

"Well?"

"He said it sounded like 'Nickyaht.'"  Mike pronounced the word carefully.
"Just like that, like it was one word."  His friend seemed completely unaware
of the astonishment Williams was sure was on his face. "Just thought you should
know.  Look, I have to go, see you around, OK?"

Williams managed to mumble something, then stared down at the report.

Nick Shaws.

Nickyaht.

Nick Yaht.

No _way_ that was a coincidence.

_	_	_


Amy sighed with no small relief.  It had taken hours of careful persuasion to
get Mina to finally relax.  It had taken even more time to get Nakiad to come
out of his house.  Fortunately, at least Raye had not required any persuasion
to get her to come with them.  The red scout seemed eager to supervise, and Amy
sincerely hoped that Raye would not go too far in that capacity.

Actually, Nakiad had seemed almost completely relaxed when Amy had called him.
After a week's passing, the shock was fading from Amy's mind, but she had still
been surprised when he had agreed to come with them.

Now he seemed to honestly enjoy finishing his meal at the cafe, flanked by Mina
and Amy on two sides, and Raye right across the rather small table.  The sun
shone on their outdoor seating, and the shadow of the building behind them did
not even come close to ruining the almost spring weather.  Only a tremor of
cold remained in the wind, and trees around them were beginning to bud in
preparation for summer.

Amy sighed with relief when Mina actually smiled, to the blue scout's delight.
A week ago, the orange scout had been almost catatonic with distress and
horror, but time and Amy's gentle arguments had made a lot of progress.  Their
walk had added to that, for in the sunlight, almost none of Nakiad's danger
showed, and Mina was obviously still in love.

"How's school, Amy?"  The blue scout blinked at the mundane question.  Normally
Nakiad was not one for small talk.

"Well, since now I have no shortage of private tutors, I'm doing fine."  She
smiled. "And you?"

He hummed more or less affirmatively, nodding to the waiter as the man took
away their plates and replaced them with rather large dishes of ice-cream.
Raye and Mina started in immediately with relish as Nakiad smiled slightly.  

He glanced at Amy. "'If a little knowledge is dangerous, where is the man who
has so much as to be out of danger?'"

Amy frowned and shook her head, not knowing the quote.

He almost smiled "Thomas Henry Huxley, I believe."  It had become a game of
sorts for them, one the other scouts were obviously getting annoyed with.

The blue scout shrugged and started on her ice cream, and for a time, all of
them were occupied.  Raye finished first, raising her head and looking sharply
at the Chosen. "All right, Nakiad.  Since no one else will bring it up, I will.
How do you feel?"

The table tensed almost visibly, but Nakiad did not flinch. "All right,
considering."  He sighed. "The pressure is still there, but it is diminished a
great deal.  Almost as if the source of the imbalance is tired, does not have
the same sort of strength.  Keeping it in control is relatively easy."

A new voice interrupted before Raye could reply. "Hey, guys!"

Amy turned to face the passerby. "Oh, hi Andrew."

"Amy, Raye, Mina."  He looked at Nakiad questioningly, but without concern.  In
street clothes, the Chosen looked pretty ordinary as long as he did not stare
anyone in the eyes.

Mina smiled. "Um, this is-" she faltered. "Er."  Amy suddenly saw the problem.
They had never had to introduce Nakiad to anyone else, and he probably would
not want anyone to know his real name.

Fortunately, the Chosen was already ahead of them, as he rose and extended his
hand. "Nick.  Nick Shaws."

Andrew shook the hand easily. "Nice to meet you, Nick.  I'm Andrew.  Say,
haven't I've seen you with Darian a few times?"  The arcade manager suddenly
became vague, almost as if he had forgotten what he was doing. "Anyway, I have
to go.  Later, guys!"

Nakiad sat down, and silently started on the remainder of his ice cream.

Mina looked at him strangely. "Is it just me, or was Andrew acting kind of
strangely at the end there?  I mean, he did not ask who Nakiad was or
anything."

"Actually," the Chosen said with another slight smile, "it was I."  He did not
elaborate.

Raye frowned suddenly, looking at the cafe behind Nakiad.

Amy put another teaspoon of delicious ice cream in her mouth. "Nick Shaws?"

"Hmm.  It's the name I generally go by on the rare occasions I appear in
public.  Makes a sort of sense.  Nakiad Chosen.  Devil in a thicket."  Nakiad
finished the last spoonful of ice cream and leaned back, but they never got a
chance to ask him about the last two words, because Raye suddenly sat
forward.

"Guys, I feel something."

Nakiad frowned and concentrated.

"Evil," Raye finished for him. "Someone, or something."

She was getting up when the cafe turned into a fountain of fire.



All four of them were thrown into the air by the blast.  Nakiad tucked himself
into a ball in the air and landed in a fighting stance, on his feet, facing the
explosion.  Amy and Raye landed on the ground, although Raye managed to tuck
herself into a roll and got up into a crouch relatively quickly.  Mina was also
thrown into the air, but she encountered the table halfway into her trajectory
and ended up somehow in Nakiad's arms, clutching at his frame for support.  He
held her up her easily, but his eyes were focused on the explosion and the
fire.

"Planets above," he whispered.

Acrid smoke washed over them, and fragments of burning degrees showered
the ground around them.

Raye got up painfully and helped Amy to her feet.  The blue scout was bruised
but mostly all right.  "What happened?" she asked shakily, recovering her
equilibrium with difficulty.

Mina glanced at Nakiad gratefully as he helped her stand on her own, then
turned to answer Amy. Before she had a chance to, sudden horror flickered
through her eyes.  "There," she started, her voice catching.  "There are people
in there.  "She started toward what was left of the building, then her legs
gave out and she started to fall.

Nakiad caught her without looking, his eyes consumed by the flames. "There were
people in there," he replied.

Approaching sirens wailed mournfully.



The police arrived as the scouts and Nakiad were helping the survivors of the
explosion.  But only those sitting at the outside tables had ever had a
chance.

Amy glanced up from a woman whose head had been badly cut by a fragment of
glass, and looked at Nakiad and Mina as the two worked together. Well, the blue
scout thought sadly, at least the conflict between them seemed solved.  At
least for now.

She allowed the careful hands of a doctor to move her aside as he took her
place.  Another person in white glanced at Amy and pronounced the scout all
right.  Then someone in blue started asking Amy questions.

_	_	_


Nakiad sighed, staring at the screen.  He had managed to avoid most of the
questions the policeman had asked, but he had been forced to give his name and
a phone number where he could be reached.  Fake ones, of course.  Fortunately,
he had managed to blur the immediate memories of the people who had seen his
reaction to the blast.  It would not do to have someone reporting his being on
his feet so soon after the bomb.  Nakiad had also done his best to influence
the policeman who had interviewed him, and it would be unlikely that he would
be bothered.

He winced again at the memory of the blast.  

All because of him.  He knew it was because of him, for he had felt the
presence of hatred at the site.  And the loathing had been directed at him, the
wish to kill had been directed at him.  And Nakiad knew Raye had felt that
too.

After being released, he had found that Mina was already at home, and had
decided that it was not a good idea to try to get through the parental defense
that was established around her.  Doing his absolute best to keep his mental
surface calm and impart some of that feeling to her, he had returned home.

Yet again, he wondered what he was waiting for.

Sighing, he looked away from the computer screen and thought of the explosion.
He had not turned to darkness, despite the obvious threat to Mina.  

Not quite.

The flicker of the old rage, of the dark rising had been there. Only because he
had felt Mina during the blast had he been able to pull himself away.

Whatever the hatred was, it was still there.  And he no longer had any doubt
that someone was causing that pressure.  Having malevolence directed at him
just as the building next to them exploded could not have been a coincidence.

He had not changed that time.  But luck never played favorites, he had learned
that.

He closed his eyes with old pain, remembering his foolishness so many centuries
before.  He had thought himself to be strong, strong enough to-  He forced his
mind to another track.

Even through the distance, he felt Mina's mind, and although it was still
convoluted with turmoil, it was smoother now, more relaxed.  A little more, and
she would be calm, he told himself, reminding himself to visit her once her
parents were away.  Even now he could feel them through her, their presence
spreading calmness and annoyance into her mind at the same time.

"Nakiad."

He woke from his thoughts, sitting up straight.  The computer had been
programmed to alert him to many things, but this time the voice almost sounded
human.  Once again, he rejected the idea that anything was controlling it from
the outside.  It was isolated as well as a computer could be.  There were
various methods of communication with the outside world, of course, but all of
them were heavily filtered.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Video transmission coming in."

"Really?  Where from?"

He frowned when the computer did not reply immediately, for it had been
programmed to recognize the rhetoric nature of the first question and the
somewhat reversed order of the second.  The computer was also programmed to
pause before replying to a question to make it seem more human, but this time
the wait seemed longer than the usual second.

"Unknown," the machine replied.

He frowned, thinking about it. "Where is it coming from?"  He realized a moment
later that he was repeating the same question.

"Unknown."

"Put it through on the screen."  How on Earth had he known a video transmission
was coming?  he asked himself.  

Why else had he felt compelled to wait?

The image focused itself, revealing a strange man.  Gray was the best color to
describe him.  His skin was somewhat gray, his hair was gray.  Even his uniform
was gray, but there was only one such type of uniform that Nakiad knew of.

A Negaverse uniform.

"Nakiad," the humanoid said.

Something in the other's face gave him away, a certain rigidness of features,
an absence of motion.

"Kaneth," the Chosen answered, identifying him. "I see you have decided to
adapt the human form of your predecessors.  Last I saw you, you were-"

"I know.  The army is used to looking up to a humanoid, and this makes things
somewhat easier for command purposes.  I've gotten used to it, although my
natural form is easier for fighting."  Kaneth glanced to one side, looking at
something outside the image, then looked back.  "I lack time.  This
transmission does not cost a lot in energy, but there is a large chance of
being discovered, a chance that increases with time.  And this might not look
too good to some under my command."

Nakiad nodded. "What does the leader of the force opposing mine want with
me?"

Kaneth frowned, somewhat unnaturally, his human form only marginally more
mobile than his natural face. "A faction of my troops has broken off under the
leadership of another creature."

"Seems normal enough for the Negaverse- why not just destroy them?"  He tested
Kaneth.

The leader of the one of the deadliest armies in existence frowned. "It's not
that easy.  The faction that has broken off is large enough that by law I am
required to let them go."

"By law?"

"I don't have much time.  Ordinarily, I would just forget about that, I have
broken enough promises. This I owe you.   The creature who is leading the
faction is extremely dangerous.  I believe that he has the ability to influence
minds."

"In what way?"  Nakiad was instantly alert.

"I do not know."  The video image flickered. "All I know is that my telepaths
would have discovered that faction long ago if he had not been stronger than
them.  And if he is that strong, his abilities might be-"  Kaneth paused.
"Unpredictable.  From the scattered reports I do have, I believe that he can
control other minds.  He can also make things appear to be different from what
they are, such as making an enemy's power appear to be that of a friend, or
vice versa. But given the sparseness of the reports, I do not doubt that the
actual powers are much greater."

Nakiad felt his own eyes grow old as he stared at the negaversal.  "Can you do
anything about this?"

Kaneth sighed.  "Like I said, the faction that has broken off is large enough
that they have their own jurisdiction.  I can not interfere with them unless
their actions are endangering the Negaverse as a whole.  There are some escape
clauses, but none of them seem to apply.  I can not interfere. Not by the laws
which I must follow.  He is mounting a direct, personal attack against the
Universe, something that has long been accepted by our society.  Even if I were
willing to break our laws, even my most loyal subjects would not follow me."

"I understand."  Nakiad nodded. "Thank you for warning me.  Any debt you though
you might have to me is over.  Thank you."

Kaneth nodded calmly. "Be careful, Chosen.  The planets will watch over you,
but their powers are limited."  His image flickered once more and faded out.

Nakiad stared at the blank screen for a few moments before turning his head. So
he had been right after all.

"Computer?" 

_	_	_


"Serena, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that-"

"I knew it, you don't like me!  I knew it!"  The princess yelled in his face,
then stormed out of his apartment.

Darian sighed and collapsed to the couch, rising a moment later to go to the
balcony.  From it, he saw Serena storming angrily down the street.  The
prince's arms folded automatically on the balcony's rails, letting his head
down slightly.  He stared out at the city.  At night, the view from his
apartment was beautiful.  Now, with the sun setting just at the edge of water,
it was far more than that, it was breathtaking.  That and the fresh air had
always calmed him down, and now was no different from any other time.

Above, he heard slight screeching, movement of heavy furniture.  The tenants in
the apartment above his were moving out, he remembered, and he forced himself
to relax.

"Spectacular, isn't it?"  Darian jerked at the sudden voice, then relaxed when
he realized it was Nakiad.  

The prince looked back at the city and sighed, watching the last ray of the sun
disappear. "Yes, that it is."

Nakiad fell silent and Darian knew better than to pry.

The Chosen, too, leaned on the railing. "Trouble with the fairer sex?" Nakiad
asked quietly.

Darian forced himself from jerking.  He responded just as quietly and just as
calmly. "You were listening?"  It had been a foolish argument really.

Nakiad moved his head marginally from side to side.  "No.  I saw her leaving
here in a foul mood, and it wasn't too difficult to figure out what had upset
her, even without the empathy."

Of course, Darian thought, cursing himself for his doubts.  He tried to
suppress the annoyance, well aware that Nakiad could pick up surface emotions
when he chose to.  The prince suspected that Nakiad did not do it often, but
Serena's anger had been obvious, and the Chosen would naturally want to find
out what the problem was, in case it was dangerous.  Darian could not fault
Nakiad for that.  

The prince sighed. "Sometimes I wonder if we are truly meant to be together.
All I said was that I had to work tomorrow and could not come with her
shopping.  So she yelled that I thought my work more important than she is, and
stormed out."

Nakiad paused a moment before replying.  "We have all been under strain."
Darian raised an internal eyebrow, surprised that the other had seen fit to
include himself in the observation. "Do not worry, prince, you and she are
meant to be together.  She loves you, and you obviously love her.  It will work
out."

Darian frowned. "Wouldn't it be the same between you and Mina?"

Nakiad did not answer at first, staring at the slowly appearing stars.  "Will
that day healing bring for all," he whispered.

Darian blinked. "What-"

"No," Nakiad said suddenly, looking at Darian.  "It is not the same.  I can not
change, not after all this time.   The choices you make, they do not matter 
now, but you will have to live with them-"  The Chosen slowed. "Live
with them for long than you may think."

Nakiad turned back to look at the sky. "So old," the Chosen whispered.  "Too
many memories."  He sighed, and words came out of his throat, quiet words
offered to the stars.

"'From too much love of living.
From hope and fear set free.
We thank with brief thanksgiving
Whatever gods may be
That no life lives forever:
That dead men rise up never:
That even the weariest river
Winds somewhere safe to sea.'"

The Nakiad turned back. "Only they do not."  Very calmly, he pulled out an
empty bottle.  "I tried to get drunk."  His eyes stared into the night as he
put the bottle on the railing.  The glass container sat precariously on the
narrow support as Nakiad continued. "Only it did not work.  Once before, it
did, but not any more, not again.  Once before, it had helped me forget.  Funny
thing, my metabolism.  Adjusts to any toxin almost immediately."  He sighed
slowly. "Still, once it had worked.  I should be grateful for that."  Then
Nakiad's eyes flickered with pain.  "Only I remember anyway."

Nakiad's voice echoed slowly in the darkness. "Almost two hundred years ago.
Yes, the year 1815.  The volcano Tambora exploded in what is accepted to be the
largest eruption in the last ten thousand years."  He breathed out softly.
"1816 was known as the year with no summer.  The ash that the volcano had
tossed into the atmosphere blocked out the sun, destroyed all warmth.   It
snowed in the middle of July in Europe that summer, I know, I was _there_."  He
turned to Darian. "One gets used to the alternation of seasons, it is one of
the few things a person can rely on.  The year after the eruption, it was as if
all of nature had been destroyed forever, and though I knew that the ash would
settle-   For a human, now, it is hard to imagine- perpetual darkness.  No
stars at night, dim light when the sun should have been shining.  It is hard to
imagine, but I can remember if I just close my eyes, I remember it perfectly.

The Chosen looked back outside. "That is how I feel now," he said softly. "Like
summer will never come again.  All I am is fighting, all I know is that.
Knowledge can not be undone, I can not go back."

Sometimes, Darian thought, it seemed as if Nakiad had been born old.

The Chosen whirled, his eyes plunging into the prince.  "No one.  No one is
ever _born_ old."

Darian stumbled back at the sudden vehemence, and the shock of having his mind
so easily read.  The thought had been on the surface, yet-  He saw Nakiad's
face become sad once more.

"I'm sorry," the Chosen whispered, turning away turned away. "Sometimes, the
thought is so obvious, so predictable, that I see it whether I try to or not."
He paused, sighing once more.  "Everything seems so precarious now.  Only a few
months back, I thought that I had finally reached peace, and now-"  Nakiad's
eyes focused on the bottle on the railing, and the Chosen gestured slightly
toward it.

The glass bottle shook slightly with the gesture, then moved.  Ever so slowly,
it toppled off the edge of the balcony and disappeared into the night.

Nakiad did not follow it to the ground, his eyes were staring some place else,
somewhere far away. "I wish it were that easy," he said softly.

Then he shook his head violently, and a trace of a smile touched his lips. "I
don't make a very pretty drunk, do I?  Hemingway would have never approved."

For a long moment, Nakiad stared outside, then he turned back.  "I have to go.
There is someone else I have to visit tonight." He jumped silently up to the
railing, glancing back for a moment. "Thanks, Darian."

The prince wondered what for, staring at the black patch of night which the
Chosen had been blocking a moment before..

_	_	_


He moved noiselessly through the city, like a shadow slipping in and out of
darkness, moving unseen through dark alleys.  Those few who saw him never felt
the slight pressure in their mind that left their eyes blind, making them
ignore the rapidly moving figure.  They were not really looking for anything
unusual, and did not wish to see anything like Nakiad, so making them disregard
him was simple.  Even without outside influence, human minds see what they want
to see rather than what is real.

It did not take long for him to reach Mina's house, not at the rate he was
going at.  He came up to the single tree in the small patch of land and leaned
against the ancient trunk, feeling its age, so similar to his own.

Well, Nakiad thought, sliding down until he was sitting on the ground against
the wood, at least his mental abilities seemed to have profited from the past
experiences.  He had been able to keep anyone from noticing him with
frightening ease.  Frowning, then forcing his mind blank, he closed his eyes
and cast his perception out.

Mina was asleep.  He had been aware of that for a while, her presence always a
small factor in his mind.  He had intended to talk to her, but he did not wish
to wake her up.  Instead, he sent his own feelings out at her, doing his best
to smooth her erratic sleep, calm her mind from the day's happenings.  Added to
his previous mental influence, this was enough, and he let her lapse into
deeper, healthier dreams.

He smiled a bit, then felt for another very familiar mental presence, finding
it also asleep.  He did not hesitate this time, sending a mental push.
Artemis's mind blurred as the guardian woke up.

Moments later, a lithe shape, stark white against the night, landed easily next
to Nakiad.  The white cat yawned and looked accusingly at the Chosen.  "I don't
suppose you could have woken me up in a less abrupt manner?"

Nakiad managed a smile. "Perhaps.  But I need to talk."

Artemis settled down beside him, lying down and resting his head on his front
paws.  "Feels like old times?  The cat asked.

"Almost," Nakiad answered. "If you don't count the pressure inside my head."

The white cat frowned.  "Tell me."

The Chosen sighed. "Kaneth called me."

"Really?  How?"

Nakiad shook his head. "I do not know."  It was irrelevant. "He showed me where
my problem might come from.  Someone deserted from his army, taking a large
group with him.  And Kaneth is sure that the person in question had great
mental powers, otherwise he would have been detected."

"And you think that creature is attacking you mentally, _trying_ to get you to
lose control? What's the motive?"

"What is ever the motive?  He must know that he can not attack the Universe
until I am out of the way, so he has to get rid of me."  Nakiad paused. "But it
does not make sense.  The fight in my head started when I first joined with the
Dark Lord and Guardian.  Then, a few weeks back, the new pressure started."

"Which would correspond to the time when this deserter came here." Artemis
finished. "It fits.  So what does not make sense?"

Nakiad looked at the cat seriously. "Why did the pressure lessen?  If this
creature truly wants me to be destroyed, why not hit me with everything it has,
why not keep up the tension until I collapse?  After the two episodes, right
after I showed you the tape, the pressure went away. Why?"

Artemis was silent for a minute, thinking. "All right.  I can think of three
reasons.  One, the creature might be tired.  Or it might have thought that you
could resist it since you came back both times.  So it might think that it can
not defeat you directly.  Either way, he will probably start to attack again."
The white cat paused, looking up at the sky.  "If I were he, I would either
try to force you over the edge all at once, or I would try the gradual pressure
again."

"Possibly.  But that's two reasons, what is the third?"

Artemis sighed. "Or your hypothesis may be altogether incorrect."

"What do you mean?"

The white cat smiled, his face ghostly against the night. "This hypothetical
creature might not be your problem, if Kaneth was not lying, or did not know
what he was talking about.  But given that he was correct, how do you know this
creature _wants_ you to be dark?  When you turned that way, you were impossible
to control, completely wild, useless to the Sailor Scouts- but also useless to
anyone else."

Nakiad did not reply, he did not need to.  Both knew what the other were
thinking, and none of the thoughts were good.  Finally, the Chosen spoke. "All
right, what do I do, then?"

Artemis sighed. "I think there is nothing you can do.  You might try to trace
this creature down, but I doubt you will meet with much success.  He could be
anywhere, any time.  He might not even be on Earth, or in this Universe.  And
neither you nor Raye have the mental powers to find someone who does not want
to be found.  But-" the guardian paused.

"Yes?"

"I think we need to know how susceptible you are to this thing at the moment,
when the pressure is small.  The explosion did not alter you, but the attack on
Mina did.  We have to know how much of a conflict you can withstand.  At the
same time, it would be nice for you to train your control a little."

"All right."  Nakiad thought for a moment. "I was going to arrange a training
exercise anyway, and it seems like we can use that.  I will just have to change
the teams around a little.  Put Darian and me on one, and the scouts on the
other as defending."  He paused, thinking it over. "Yes, that might work."

Artemis did not reply, obviously not sure what Nakiad was talking about, and
the Chosen smiled.

"Don't worry, you'll find out.  I think you and Luna will be the judges- and
the designers.  Along with the computer, of course."

Artemis nodded, then just stared at Nakiad for long moments.

"What is it?"

The guardian's eyes narrowed. "After you showed them the video, I felt
something from you, through the link between us.  I think Mina did, too, but
she was too mixed up in her own emotions."

Nakiad sighed slowly. "So that is why you cut the questions short."  He looked
at the stars gently. "I wondered about that."

Artemis nodded. "You know something about this darkness, something you are not
telling."

Nakiad jerked his head up and down, a bare motion.

He felt the white cat's eyes on him. "Has this happened before?"

Nakiad felt the old pain, then slowly, deliberately, he shook his head. "It
does not matter," he said.  His own voice sounded exhausted. "It was a long
time ago, it does not matter any more."

He did not turn to face Artemis when the guardian replied. "You know that is
not true.  The past-"

"The past is gone," Nakiad cut the cat off.  He turned to look at his old
mentor. "I have tried to forget for too long to remember."

He swallowed hard.  He had remembered for too long to ever forget.

Somehow, the irony was not funny at all.

Artemis shrugged slowly.  "All right.  You know what you are doing." The
guardian got up.  "Get some rest," the cat said, his voice rough.  A few smooth
bounds up the tree took him to Mina's window, then he was inside.

Did he know?  Nakiad wondered.  Somehow, everyone expected him to.

Slowly, forcefully, he made his body relax, his eyes to close, and he drifted
off to sleep.

But he never dreamt.

_	_	_


"Master?"  The voice echoed in the dark hall.

"Yes?" Eurtholl asked calmly.  He rather liked the throne.

"The explosion failed."  The voice was fearful now.

He smiled. "Of course it did, Fluctra.  It was meant to."

"I do not understand."

"Of course not."  He did not get angry at her for the subtle challenge,.

Briefly, he tried to remember the last time he had lost his temper, and could
not.  It had certainly been before this millennium.  He smiled once more.  Only
by blending in was he able to keep Beryl, then the Dark Lord, and even Kaneth
from noticing him.  No, he did not get angry, he had learned control over time.
And he had learned patience.

Those traits made him far more dangerous than Beryl's four generals had ever
been.  And because of his ruthlessness, he was far more of a threat than even
Kaneth, despite the other's huge army.

Eurtholl smiled slightly, suddenly realizing the pompousness of his own
thoughts.  He was not ruler of the Universe yet, he reminded himself, and he
turned to Fluctra. "I suppose I should explain it to you, but there is no real
need to.  

Fluctra bowed slightly. "But master, it seems obvious that if you want Nakiad's
darkness to take over, all you have to do is resume the pressure and threaten
Mina severely.  After enough time, he would surely break."

He smiled once more at her foolishness.  "I do want Nakiad's darkness to take
over.  But it will do so on my terms.  Like a rat in a human lab maze, he will
seem to have choices.  But all of those choices will be made by me."  He
stopped, turning to business. "Have you sent the message to the human?"

"Yes, but I do not understand it.  It just seems to be pointless
conversation."

"The real message is encoded, of course."

"But master, of what possible use could a human be to us?"

This time, his smile was full, revealing brilliantly white teeth. "You'd be
surprised."

_	_	_


The surveillance officer was supposed to be monitoring the account, and he did
his job well.  Though the anonymous e-mail message seemed to be simple talk
about family problems, and though the account was only suspected of belonging
to their man, the officer copied it.  Half an hour later, his monitor blinked,
alerting him.  Anonymous user number forty two had logged on to the computer
and logged off a second later.  The message had disappeared.

The computer would record the logging on automatically, so the officer simply
went back to his book.  Spy novels were much more interesting than the real
thing, he thought for the hundredth time as he absorbed the words.

_	_	_


On another computer, miles away, the message blurred as the automatic decoder
was activated.  A moment later, all the misinformation was gone, leaving the
clear text.

And Norge Sicar bent over the message from Eurtholl.

_	_	_


"Hmmm?"

"Here you go." His secretary handed him the folder.

Williams frowned, annoyed.  "What is that?"

She sighed.  "The cafe bombing two days ago?"  The detective nodded. "Well, you
asked for anything that appears to be strange, or without reason, and this
qualifies.  No one important was killed, no one important was near, no one
important was even supposed to be near.  Why would someone just blow up a cafe
for no reason, then not come forward or anything?"

He sighed, glad for something to distract him from the assassination case he
was supposed to be working at. "Well, it could just be a random act of
violence."

She smiled grimly. "You said yourself that there's no such thing as a random
act of violence.  Besides-" She paused.

"What?"

"Read the report," she answered, and walked away.

He sat back down, holding the folder, then shrugged and opened it, pushing the
assassin documents to one side.

It seemed like an ordinary bombing, if there was such a thing.  Hundreds of
cops going over every minute detail, talking with everyone.  He scanned down
the list of names, then stopped suddenly.

John Smith, it said.  But he was not looking at the name, but at the phone
number.  There was no such area code in japan, and the interviewing policeman
would have asked for a local number.

It took Williams a minute to verify that the area code did not exist, but he
almost filed the information away, forgetting about it and treating it as a bad
report.  Still, the officer who had been interviewing would have surely been
competent, for a case like this.  Williams shrugged, his curiosity getting the
better of him, and grabbed his coffee on the way out.



Forty minutes later he was completely confused and absolutely sure that he was
on the trail of something.

The policemen who had interviewed John Smith did not remember him.  Not his
clothes, not his face, nothing.  They remembered the conversation, but only
vaguely.  In addition, the tape that they had of the interview was corrupted by
some sort of interference, and the things the cops remembered about the
conversation were inane things that had nothing to do with either the witness
or the crime.

John Smith had been at the site of an large explosion, had been thoroughly
interrogated, and had disappeared without anything being known about him.

Peter sat down on a bench next to the bus stop.  He had a grim suspicion that
John Smith was also Nick Yacht and Nick Shaws.

_	_	_


"OK.  Here is the game."

"Game?"  Darian asked, surprised after the serious manner of his arrival.  

He had been told nothing about the day's workout, and had assumed that they
would be practicing some sort of combat as usual.  Instead, Nakiad had led him
alone to the rather fast elevator and they had descended to the depths of the
Chosen's complex.  Now they were in a computer room, though not one of the ones
Darian had seen before.

Nakiad almost smiled. "A combat exercise.  Luna, Artemis, and the computer
designed the rules, more or less.  We two are one team, and the scouts are the
other team.  Our goal is to do something against them.  The goal is supposed to
somewhat lifelike, although precautions have been taken to assure that the risk
to anyone's life is minimal.

The computer's voice interrupted him. "The exercise is now beginning."

A slot opened in the wall Darian had been leaning against and he moved away,
surprised.  Then he blinked, realizing that he had moved his center of weight
back and down, into a correct fighting stance. He glanced at Nakiad, but the
other seemed oblivious to the prince's slight triumph.

The prince smiled to himself.  Nakiad was never oblivious to the actions of
those around him.

Meanwhile Nakiad was beginning to scan the sheets of paper that had popped out
of the slot.  It only took the Chosen a minute or so to go through several 
pages, and he turned to the prince.

"Our objective is to destroy a crystal.  The crystal had been moved to a
relatively insecure area, a factory, in the hopes that no one would think about
looking there."

"But?"

Nakiad shrugged. "Naturally, the information leaked.  The factory is a biotech
plant, one that creates materials by making genetically altered creatures
produce the rare materials.  Most of the stuff is at the level of bacteria.
The largest creature they are using is a small arachnid."

Darian nodded, suddenly realizing that he should be paying attention.  "Um-" He
processed the information. "Got it.  Do we know anything else?"

"Yes.  The factory was designed by my computer as a normal factory, with low
security.  Which is good, because the opposing team, the scouts, had only had
two simulated weeks to increase defenses.  And they could not disrupt the
normal working of the planet, which would have compromised the secrecy.  For
the modifications, they were given specific materials, including weapons and
armor of several types, and one other shipment the identity of which was not
discovered by our side.  We also have a sketchy plan of the facility, generated
from satellite imagery.  Because the crystal lets off a specific radiation
signature, we know its last position, and will be able to follow it." Nakiad
handed the prince a small pad with a plan of sorts on it and a flashing dot
showing the location of the crystal.

"What else?" Nakiad asked himself, scanning the pages. "We have a choice of
whatever weapons we like, but not energy weapons.  Energy guns would be
dangerous unless they were specifically calibrated not to interfere with the
radiation from the crystal.  Apparently, interfering with said radiation could
cause severe distortions in the fabric of something or other."  Nakiad looked
up. "In other words, the computer and the two cats thought us having weapons
would be an unfair advantage, so we are being handicapped.  Though from my
experience, weapons often cause more problems than they solve."  He looked up.
"That's it."

Darian nodded.  "All right, so where do we start."

"Weapons," Nakiad said, ignoring the contradiction with his previous 
statement.  "Follow me."

They stepped back into the elevator and Darian's stomach floated up to his
throat as they plummeted down.  A few seconds later they came to a halt and the
elevator opened on one of the most incredible rooms the prince had ever seen.

The length and depth of the chamber were only slightly larger than average.
But the room stretched out to either side, curving gently inward, away from
Darian, so the walls slid out of sight.  The prince realized that the room was
shaped like a giant doughnut, probably wrapped around the center of the
complex.  If so, it was a very large doughnut, for the curvature of the walls
was slight. 

But that was not the truly astonishing thing about the room.  What grabbed
Darian's eyes immediately and just would not let go were the things in the
room.

It was a weapons gallery.

An amazing weapons gallery.

Nakiad smiled inwardly at the other's expression.  "Welcome to my armory."

Darian let out his breath, beginning to classify what he was seeing.  The room
was full of weapons of all types.  Indirect light reflected off metal
everywhere.  Just in front of him, he could see several different types of
swords, a knight's armor, a mace, a rocket launcher of some sort, several old
style rifles.  To either side of that narrow section, other, unbelievable
weapons stretched out until the corridor's curve cut off Darian's eyes.

"Most of these are not really useful weapons," Nakiad was continuing. "A lot of
them are antiques, things I keep around out of sentimentality.  I have not even
used all of them, though I know how to use each type.  But there are more-" he
paused for a split instant, as if to choose the correct word "-practical tools
ahead.  Follow me."

He set off at a light jog down the curving corridor, and Darian followed,
staring with astonishment at the things they passed, the almost buried prince
side of him coming out, evaluating each weapon for what it could do and what it
was worth.  Despite their obvious age and antiquity, all the weapons were in
good shape, properly cleaned and often under glass.  The prince was wondering
if vacuum was kept under those glass cases when Nakiad stopped.  Darian snapped
out of his thoughts, braking so as not to bump into the Chosen.

Nakiad turned around without seeming to notice Darian's clumsiness. "Feel free
to take what you wish."

The Chosen walked a few steps forward to a relatively clear area.  In the
middle was a large glass case under which a pair of small axes lay crossed.  At
Nakiad's approach, the glass slid silently away, revealing the pair of blades,
and the man lifted the two out with a sort of reverence, examining the perfect
edges critically.

Darian came forward, a little wary of the blades. "You aren't going to be using
your swords?"

Something very much like pain flickered in Nakiad's eyes.  Thinking back,
Darian realized that the Chosen had not used his own weapons for several
training session. 

Nakiad answered after a second, his voice reassuring.  "For this exercise, I'll
work with these.  It is dangerous to get used to the same weapons.  Since we
know our opponents are prepared for us, I'd like to try using these, they are
more effective in close quarters, more brutal.  The swords I use are more of a
connoisseur's weapon.  Besides, there are a few tricks-"  He gestured suddenly
to Darian. "Attack me with your sword."

The prince shrugged, well used to being beaten in all types of combat.  His
frame flickered as he changed into his prince form, and he pulled out the sword
at his hip with one practiced move.

Nakiad smiled, and gestured with his weapons.  "Now, see how the edges curve in
to the handle?"

Darian examined the axes closely for the first time.  They were not small,
actually, it was only their handles that were short.  Nakiad's hands gripped
the wood almost at the same height as the lower edges of the crescent blades.
The blades themselves were fairly large, and were attached to the handle some
inches up from Nakiad's hand.  The metal then curved out in a fan, and the ends
curved a little, creating a sort of dead space where the metal and wood blocked
off more than three fourth of the space around them.

"Now strike at me."  

The prince grinned and struck instantly, at Nakiad's seemingly unprotected
head, not at the axe.  Darian met one of the other's blades with a loud clang.
Then something strange happened.

Nakiad shifted the axe in a strange way, moving it sharply, and Darian's sword
jerked out of his grasp, flying directly up.  The Chosen caught the sword by
the handle on its way down.  His other hand was holding the other axe a
millimeter away from Darian's throat.

Nakiad withdrew easily, returning the blade to the prince.

Darian accepted his sword back.  "How did you do that?"

The Chosen shrugged.  "Again, slowly."  Nakiad put the other axe down 
in the case for the moment, leaving one hand free.  As Darian slowly slid
in, the Chosen parried with the axe, then slid it up a little and hooked the
curved part of the metal edge over Darian's sword.  The blade got caught in the
dead space, and Nakiad twisted the axe in a fluid surge of strength.

This time, Darian had plenty of time to feel the power of the jerking motion
that ripped the sword from his hands.

"Well then," Nakiad continued, picking up the other axe.  From under the
cabinet, he took out a harness that he put on across his back and under his
arms.  The material of it, virtually identical to his gi, seemed to melt into
his frame, and became indistinguishable from the rest of the clothes.  With
easy motions, Nakiad slid the axes into the harness, firmly against his back.
The two handles were crossed and protruding slightly over his back for easier
access.  "Do you want anything from this section?"

Darian looked around, but there was nothing particularly interesting there.
Then his eyes caught.

It was a sword on a stand in the middle of the passageway, much as the axes had
been.  The weapon itself was similar to Darian's, but slender, and seemed more
carefully made.  The prince walked over to the sword, strangely fascinated.

Cunningly inscribed runes ran the length of the blade, giving it a strange,
mystic quality.  The handle was beautifully cut, and the whole weapon had an
air of perfection.  Slowly, Darian reached out for the sword, then he stopped
and looked at Nakiad.  The Chosen nodded.

At the touch of Darian's finger, the blade seemed to almost hum, and a pale
blue light ran the length of the lethal edge.  The prince snatched his hand
back and saw Nakiad smiling slightly.

"Another day, perhaps, Darian," the Chosen said.

Nodding, the prince withdrew his hand, looking around again.  There was nothing
else that caught his interest, and he preferred to go with the sword he knew
rather than taking on a new blade.  "I'll go with my roses."  Then Darian saw
the handles of the axes, and had a sudden thought.  "If those blades are not
yours, how can you count on their strength?"

Nakiad seemed to have his answer ready.  "It's an alloy that includes a small
part of maraki, not quite as hard as my own swords, but stronger than almost
anything on the planet."  He was already walking away.

As they passed through the room, the weapons changed slowly, becoming more
modern. Darian stared around himself, fascinated, almost hypnotized as the
reflections off steel burred in his eyes.  After a while, the ancient artifacts
disappeared, replaced by modern small guns and other hand weapons.

Several times, Nakiad stopped to grab something.  At one point, it was a pair
of smooth spheres, about the size of Chinese hand balls.  Nakiad grasped a
patch of gi, and literally peeled it, the material easily stretched by his
fingers.  Yet Darian had fought with the Chosen often, and knew that the gi was
extraordinarily strong, much stronger than it looked.  Not noticing the
attention, the Chosen put the balls into the fold, and patted it closed.  The
material flexed and melted back into the surrounding gi, only a slight bulge in
the fabric showing where the spheres were hidden.

Another time, Nakiad grabbed something and made it disappear one sleeve, then
he repeated the strange procedure with the other arm, too fast for Darian to
make out.  They passed a few doors, and Darian figured that they had gone
through about a quarter of a full circle when Nakiad stopped in the middle of
the room.

"Ready?" the Chosen asked.

"Certainly."  With a thought, he changed to Tuxedo Mask, the form he felt most
comfortable in.  The relaxation and new strength that came with the form
reminded him of something, and he glanced back.  They had passed several doors
on the outside wall, but none that led to the middle of the complex.

A door opened into another elevator, on the outside of the armory, and Darian
wiped his thoughts away as he stepped inside.  They were about to fight, and
having an occupied mind interfered with combat.

"We are starting within the complex, having just entered it from the outside."
Darian pulled out the rectangle map, and saw two new dots flashing on the maze
of partly drawn rooms and passageways.  One dot was black and one red, showing
the positions of Nakiad and himself, respectively.  The prince nodded and put
the map away into an inner pocket.  With a brief smile, he remembered how long
it had taken to find a place on his uniform which did not disappear with his
clothes when he transformed.  The pocket had since proven very useful.

He gestured to the Chosen. "Lead on."

The other nodded and melted into the corridor.



"So, when do you think they will come?"

Serena's voice was actually serious, so Amy answered . "I'm not sure.  I doubt
they will start right away, though, that is too obvious.  We'll know when the
lasers are tripped, anyway.  I doubt they will be able to sneak by them."

Mina sat down with a sigh. "So when should we get to our posts?"

The blue scout sat back in the chair.  "Our positions were designed to be
adjustable, so we shouldn't start until we know where they are."  Amy glanced
at the crystal in passing, then at the three corridors coming into the room.
This had been one of the few places equipped to hold the crystal, the one with
the best security.  All of the corridors had been adjusted accordingly.  The
blue scouts tapped a few keys on the large computer bank that took up the
entire wall, then turned to chat with her friends.



"Where do you think they are?"

Nakiad stopped moving for a moment to reply. "Their best move is to stay close
to the crystal until they find out where we are.  The complex is very
extensive, and if they split up across it, it might take them a while to get to
any particular place."

"That's what I thought.  In other words-"

"They probably have some way to detect us, yes.  I'm watching out for that sort
of thing, and there are traces of ozone in the air.  It might be part of normal
operations, but," Nakiad gestured down the corridor, "a facility like this has
pretty tight control over the environment.  Bioengeneered creatures are often
made not to be able to survive in the wild."

"So you think the smell is coming from something the scouts added."  Darian
himself did not smell a thing.

"Yes.  And the smell corresponds to something newly installed, something that
has not had time to adjust to the environment. Perhaps a security camera or
some such object, though placing those everywhere would be prohibitively
expensive, and the computer surely put a price limit on their equipment.  More
likely-"  He paused, looking forward.

"What is it?"

Nakiad was already moving ahead, stopping after a dozen meters. "Come here, but
don't go further than I have."  He took out a pouch of something from one of
his pockets as Darian came up.

"Why not?"

By way of reply, Nakiad opened the small pouch and poured out a handful of very
fine dust.  A gentle breath sent it into the corridor just ahead.

Darian flinched away from the red line the dust painted across the hallway.
"Laser trip mine?"

"Too dangerous, the computer would have probably forbidden it.  It is probably
just a tripwire, connected to an alarm at their control room."  Nakiad stepped
carefully over the again invisible line.

"How did you know about the laser?"

Nakiad shrugged. "Long story."

Darian nodded with annoyance and stepped over the invisible beam as well.  He
was used to that sort of answer.



"Anything?"

"Nope.  None of the tripwires have been triggered," Amy answered.

Lita sighed.  "Is it possible that they could have avoided them?"

Amy sighed.  "Anything is possible.  That's why I've placed the smaller
sentries on the inner perimeter, so they can alert us in case Nakiad has some
way of identifying laser beams."

"But you still have nothing."

"No, not-" Amy paused because one of her screens flashed.  "A sentry just came
out of sleep mode.  It sees something."



The tunnel had widened rapidly, turning into a relatively large chamber.  It
was dark and damp, and Darian was beginning to shiver.  It was cold and
unpleasant and miserable.

A sun's light smashed into the backs of his eyes.

He stifled a yell, throwing his hands over his face and dropping to a crouch,
trying to blink away the afterimages on his retina.

With an inward smile, he realized he would rather be cold and miserable
again.



"Got them!" Amy exclaimed excitedly.  "They are in tunnel two three seven F,
which means that we should deploy according to pattern omega three.  Um.."
Well aware that her friends would have no reason to remember every plan, she
called up the screen with their locations.  "Got it?"

Raye stared at the screen, nodded calmly and left.

Lita hesitated for a moment. "Should I go?"

Amy frowned. "I'll join you in if it's necessary, if they get that far.  If the
defenses work at all as said, that should not be too likely.  I think you
should go, though, just in case."

The green scout grinned and ran off.

Amy bent over the computer bank, a joystick rising out of the table.  The
sentries and brawlers both had rudimentary artificial intelligence, but she
preferred to take matters into her own hands.  With practiced strokes, she
ordered all brawlers in the perimeter to go to the aid of the small sentry, and
got ready to take control of one of the heavier defenders.  For a moment,
however, she watched the screen.  The brawlers, scattered over the base, would
take a while to arrive, and it would be interesting to see how Nakiad handled
the sentry.



"It's a robot."

Nakiad gave him a pained glance. "You think?"

It was not very impressive, really.  Just a pair of thin spidery legs with a
sphere on top with several protrusions.  It seemed to stare at them, then a
blast of energy came out of a protrusion in what would have been its nose.

They scattered and the greenish blast hit the wall, scorching it slightly.  A
moment later, the robot was on the floor, a bright rose embedded in its head
sphere.

Darian walked toward it cautiously, but it did not move again.  Several sparks
came out of the point of impact, but that was all.  The prince glanced at
Nakiad. "Well, that was anticlimactic."

Nakiad looked around carefully, he seemed to be feeling for something. "I would
not be so hasty."

Darian's stance lowered. "What?"

"Feel that?"

The prince did not feel anything at first, then felt something that he could
not identify, then it came to him in a flash.  He had been feeling for
something spiritual, but this was a purely physical sensation.  The floor as
vibrating, just a little.

Like something big was coming their way.

Darian turned slowly to face the direction from which the footsteps came, a
blank wall. "I really don't see how Amy could have gotten a T-Rex to defend
this place."

He could feel Nakiad smile slightly, then the Chosen tensed slightly. "Oh, I
wouldn't worry.  At least, not about that."

The wall exploded into a shower of sparks.

"I'd worry about getting out of the way," Nakiad yelled over the noise as he
dove to one side, both axes in his hands.

The robot was big.  At least it seemed to be, from a single look.  Although it
was not much over two meters tall, its shape was impressive.  The two spidery
thin legs of the smaller robot were replaced by huge metallic supports which
seemed perfectly capable of kicking down a major wall.  Directly on top sat the
body, an oblong bullet shape about a meter wide and twice as long.  Although
there were several bulges in the gray metallic skin, nowhere was the surface
broken.  There was no place that seemed vulnerable, no holes, no seams to
attack.  Just the unbroken metallic shape that exhumed malevolence.

A blast of green struck the ground where Nakiad and Darian had been a moment
ago, shattering the floor into a thousand pieces.  A split moment later, four
roses struck the skin of the hulk and bounced off as if they were made of
rubber.  The robot turned, reacting instantly, and fired a blast at the source
of those roses.  Only a desperate leap saved the prince from becoming so much
cooked plasma.

The robot whirled to confront a new threat as Nakiad melted out of a wall.  One
of the axes whirled through the air and launched with incredible speed directly
at the center of the machine's head.  The full strength of the Chosen and a
maraki enhanced alloy were behind that strike, and no industrial metal could
have withstood the full impact of that axe.

At the last moment, the robot shifted its weight and turned away from the
threat, altering the angle of impact.  The blade struck the skin obliquely with
a dull clang and bounced off to one side, leaving a shallow gash in the opaque
gray surface.

Nakiad landed next to Darian and the prince glanced at him breathlessly. "Now
what?" He managed to pant as the robot started turning toward them.

The Chosen hefted the remaining axe thoughtfully. "It's not invulnerable," he
pointed with the blade toward the scratch on the surface," but we have to get
closer to strike."  He looked at Darian critically. "Change to the prince," he
shouted as he leapt clear of another of the deadly blasts.

The robot was powerful but slow, it took a moment to follow Nakiad's motion and
neglected Darian for a moment, allowing the prince to change.  The weight of
his sword gave Darian a measure of confidence and he leapt forward.  The robot
started turning back, but was not quick enough as the prince landed beside
it.

He swung his sword as hard as he could against the front of the leg joint,
hoping to find a weak spot, and a moment later the full power of an ancient
magically enhanced sword struck across the unyielding metal.

The impact almost wrenched Darian's arms out of their sockets, but also
generated a shower of sparks from the robot.  Its legs were bent backward at
the joint, much like a bird's, and it could not bring its strength to bear
against the strike.  The blade penetrated slightly and the robot lurched.

The prince landed several feet away, his weapon wrenched out of his hand and
the robot began to turn.  But a black shape landed directly on top of it, and
two axes slammed directly into the top of the gray dome.

This time, the impacts were not in any way glancing, and both blades penetrated
with a shriek.  The robot spun around, hurling Nakiad away, one axe still
embedded in the metal, then the robotic hulk shrieked.

And collapsed.

A few sparks of electricity were all that was left of its power.  Slowly,
Darian got up from the ground to retrieve his sword, on guard against any
motion.  Nakiad, having landed on his feet, had both axes back in their
harness.

"Nice," the Chosen observed, staring down at the vanquished robot.

Darian looked at him with surprise, but Nakiad's look was completely admiring,
without a hint of malice. "Nice?"  The prince asked. "I thought you said this
was supposed to be safe?"

"Oh, I'm sure it was," Nakiad replied, his voice unworried. "The blasts would
not have killed me, and your clothes would have probably protected you from
most of the impact.  What I'm surprised at is the speed with which Amy was able
to design a radio interface that is this good."

"This was remote controlled?"

"You saw the way it moved away from the axe, when I first threw it.  No way you
could program that kind of artificial intelligence in two weeks.  Besides, the
move is too similar to the first move of every karate technique I taught- shift
your weight and turn to get out of the way, or at least make the impact
oblique.  That wasn't a coincidence."

Darian nodded. "Maybe.  How many of those things do you think she has?



Amy had plenty, but she had been surprised at the ease with which they had
defeated the one.  She was surprised at Nakiad's weapons, and was not sure 
what else he had in store.  She had been very ready for either his swords or their
alternate form, the staff, or the sword of the Dark Lord.  His axes were an
unknown quantity, which was probably why he was using them, she decided with
annoyance.

So instead of taking control of one of the other approaching brawlers, she
severed the neural link, turning off the web of wires on her head.  The robots
reverted to standby mode automatically.

"What is it, Amy?" Mina asked.

"I think we better stick to the plan."  Amy pressed a few keys, sending the
robots inward, toward the place where their crystal was, toward the scouts'
location.  There were only a few routes toward the middle of the complex.  If
Nakiad and Darian were heading in, they had to pass several places. And they
were going to meet with some surprises.

The five brawlers that still remained reached their destination within minutes.
Amy almost called the sentries in as well, but they would not have been of much
use.  They were too fragile to use in combat.

She shrugged slightly.  She did not think the two attackers could get past her
personal trap anyway.  She had locked on to them with heat monitors as soon as
she had found their location, and they were getting close to the site.



Darian turned, sudden motion attracting him, but it was only Nakiad, getting
down a little more. "What is it?"  The prince asked.

"I'm not quite sure."  The Chosen's hands strayed toward the axe handles. "But
something is not right."

Something white suddenly flashed at Darian, and he threw both his arms up
reflexively.

An incredible sticky mass smashed into both of them, and Darian writhed 
as he felt the substance wrapping around his limbs.  Next to him, Nakiad had
had only enough time to get down slightly, and the Chosen never had a chance to
get his axes out.

"What the-?"  Darian struggled, wrapped by a white mess of glue.  He had never
seen the mass coming, and still was not sure what it was.  Like a rug, it had
wrapped around him, adhering to him instantly, binding him.  It was not glue,
he realized, seeing the tiny strands that kept him from moving.  Every part of
his body was wrapped up in tiny white strings, effectively turning him into a
mummy.  He struggled.

It took him a few moments to realize that trying to get loose was only
worsening the situation.  With each moment, the white wormed closer in to him,
into his joints and pockets of air.  Like a living creature, it tightened about
his chest and mouth, making breathing difficult.  Darian froze finally,
realizing the futility of movement, and tried to examine his position.

The stuff allowed air to pass through, so he could breathe.  But movement
beyond that was virtually impossible.  The white strands across his eyes made
him effectively blind for the moment, though he could see blotches of stuff
between the white.

"Well, at least it is not lethal," he said, wincing in pain as his lips were
stretched by the thousands of sticky ropes. "How are you doing?" He asked
Nakiad as calmly as possible, feeling completely vulnerable in his position.
The last thing he had seen was the white mass flying toward them and he knew
that Nakiad had not had time to get clear either.

The other's voice offered him some relief. "All right, relatively," Nakiad
answered, his voice as calm as ever. "Don't struggle, it only makes it
worse."

"Too late," the prince groaned. "What is this stuff, and can you get free of
it?"

The prince felt something move behind him, a sort of straining, then decided
that he needed to see.  In the next few seconds, he did his best to flip
himself over, only succeeding partially.  Most of his body was adhered to the
floor, but he managed to turn his head far enough to see patches of Nakiad.

The Chosen was wrapped up in the same white sticky mess, but seemed slightly
better off.  He had managed to wrap himself in a sort of ball before the stuff
had hit, and was almost upright in a crouching position.  But he, too was
obviously unable to break free.

"The answer to your question," Nakiad replied with none of the tension Darian
was feeling, "is that no, I can not get free.  This seems to be some sort of
enhanced spiderweb, which would explain its strength."  Darian suddenly got the
distinct impression that the Chosen was smiling. "Kind of ironic, since my own
clothes are made of similar stuff.  But very clever, for it was obviously
synthesized from local products.  Those small arachnids I was telling you
about."  The prince could feel the power of the Chosen as the other strained
once more. "Effective stuff.  I can't reach anything."

Darian thought wildly. "What about your draining power?"

"I tried it, but the stuff seems to have a natural resistance.  Wait a
moment."



Nakiad struggled again, forcing his mind to center, to focus, shoving it into
the ground.  His draining power was concentrated at his hands, focused best at
the fingertips . He might not be able to get the rest of himself free that way,
but he had a few other ideas.  He concentrated once more, sending his mind
outward this time, at his hands, forcing the air around them to become the
ultimate cold.  He had lost much of his power when he had melted with the Dark
Lord, for he no longer had the enhancement of the Chosen's strength, but his
abilities might be enough for this.

He felt the strands around his hands become hard, brittle, and he twisted them
as hard as he could.

Strands of web shattered, leaving his fingers free and he sighed as the small
cool blades slid into his fingers at a flick of a wrist.  The footsteps he had
felt before were approaching, and they were human footsteps.

"Hold it right there!" Raye cried out.  Nakiad smiled, holding his body in
check as the blades cut through the stronger strands.  Just a little bit more
and- he suddenly felt the power holding him begin to give.

He also felt Raye's mind grinning with triumph and held his own smile inside.
"Well, guys," the green scout began smugly, "looks like you're kind of sunk!"

Nakiad forced every ounce of strength he had into his muscles and the blades
tore through the web as he launched up, fragments of white flying around him.

Raye gasped. "What the?..  Mars fire IGNITE!"

Nakiad had just enough time to thank her silently for her predictability.  If
she had held off just for a few seconds, she would have realized that he was in
no way ready for battle. The blades had only cut a few of the stronger threads,
and he was tangled in the rest.

Feeling the fire lash out, he concentrated, closing his eyes and forcing his
mind to the point of impact, not flinching as the flames struck him.

The force of it was incredible, it tore through his nerves, through his system,
but he did not let it burn.  He forced his system to absorb the power, drain
it, channel it to his inside.  Even with his eyes closed, he could feel the air
around him darkening with the focused draining.

The flames around him flickered and died.

With a single wrenching thought, he forced the power trapped in his body
to move.

His nerves exploded into energy.



Raye gasped as Nakiad straightened up, both arms holding some sort of knives.
Before she knew what she was doing, she yelled out the command for fire, trying
to knock him out before he had a chance to free himself completely.

It did not work.  Instead of being knocked back by the blast, Nakiad had seemed
to absorb it, the point of impact turning a midnight black.  As the fire
stopped, the red scout stepped back, wondering what was going to happen.

And she threw both arms over her eyes as a sun ignited in front of her.  The
Chosen turned into a column of brilliant red fire, flames blasting out of him,
burning him.  But the column of red did not strike out at Raye as the scout
expected it to.  Instead, it burnt itself out like a flashbulb, and Nakiad
turned black once more.

Raye forced her arms away from her eyes, blinking rapidly to recover.  Darian
was still in the ground, wrapped in Amy's web.  And, surprisingly, Nakiad had
not moved, he was just standing there, his black-clad chest rising and falling
visibly as shivers passed over him.  Yet something about him was not right,
almost as if he were moving without moving, his frame melting.

The red scout's mind screamed at her, and she realized what was wrong.  The
white web that had encircled Nakiad from head to toe was gone.  From every part
of his body, fine black ash was streaming down to the ground, piling around his
feet.

The fine ash was all that was left of the web.

"Oh damn," Raye began, backing away.

The sentiment was very appropriate.

Nakiad rose into the air in a cloud of black ink, and the last thing Raye
remembered was the soft material of Nakiad's shoe striking her jaw, and her
surprise at how hard the foot underneath was.



The Chosen breathed out painfully, every movement torture.  He had not been
able to take up that kind of power without considerable damage to his cells,
and every movement brought fresh agony.  He glanced carefully at Raye, making
sure she was all right, then looked down at himself.  It had worked remarkably
well, actually, he thought, brushing at his uniform.  Not one strand of web had
remained on him, and he was sure the flashbulb radiation had been pretty
spectacular.

He turned to Darian as the other moaned. "You all right?" He asked, the small
blades slipping into his hands again as he went over to examine the prince.

Darian nodded slightly, his movements hampered by the cocoon. "How did you do
that?" The trapped man asked incredulously. "And can you please get me out of
this thing?"

Nakiad nodded with a slight smile.  "I did that with difficulty," he answered.
"And I do not think I could absorb that kind of attack again, certainly not
soon.  As for freeing you-" He started toward the prince, then halted. "Try
changing into Tuxedo Mask."

Darian raised both eyebrows as far as they would go, but seemed to concentrate,
but nothing happened.

"I don't think I can," he explained after a moment, "without having some
freedom of movement."

Several minutes later, he was standing up, much of the web cut up by the small
but efficient blades.  Unfortunately, the web had been designed well.  Most of
it was impossible to rip off, since it adhered to anything that touched it.
Even when cut it, the strands remained, hampering the prince's movement.

Nakiad sighed, making the two blades disappear.

"I don't think I'm going to be of much use like this," the prince sighed. "We
have got to get this stuff off."

The Chosen smiled slightly. "The scouts are creative, you have to give them
that.  Try transforming now."

Darian nodded, suddenly understanding, and shifted his focus.  In a moment, he
was Tuxedo Mask.

And he was clean.  The fragments of web that had adhered to him had vanished
into the same place as his uniform, gone forever.  With another thought, he 
changed back to the prince, and found himself still free.  He glanced at Nakiad.

The other just shrugged. "Interesting.  Come on, I don't want to stay here any
more than necessary."  He knelt over Raye and felt her pulse. "She will be out
for about half an hour- we have that much time to get to the crystal."

Darian shrugged once more and followed the other down the corridor. "Where'd
those knives come from, anyway?"

Nakiad flicked his wrists and the small blades reappeared.  There were two of
them in each hand, the clean metal flashing in the corridor. "Magic," the
Chosen answered, making the weapons disappear into his sleeves again.

The two walked around a bend in the hallway, their voices fading in the
distance.



Amy sighed.  "Damn," she said quietly, then frowned at her own language.
Still, the camera did not lie, and it irked her that a bunch of mistakes made
her plan a disaster.  Well, she still had a few cards up her sleeves.

"Mina," she called softly.  The other scout came up.

"How do you think Nakiad would react to being constantly harassed by weak
robots?"

The orange scout seemed to consider. "He wouldn't care much one way or the
other, as far as what he could do."

"That's what I thought.  What about Darian?"  Amy turned further. "Serena?"

The other scout shook herself. "What?  Eh?  Oh.  I think he'd be pretty bugged.
I mean, I would be in his place.  Those sentry things are pesky."

"Mina."

"Yes?"

"You better try to wake up Raye.  If you can not do it quickly, come back to
the trap.

"Gotcha."  The orange scout went into one of the tunnels.

Amy smiled and pressed keys.  Sentry robots she had no lack of.



"Not again."  Darian sighed as yet another of the small spidery robots jumped
at them, and crashed to the floor with a rose embedded in it.  Nakiad had not
even flinched.

"Relax, Darian.  They are trying to get us upset so we will make a mistake."

"Well, they are succeeding," the prince answered with annoyance, staying as
Tuxedo Mask for the moment.

Nakiad shrugged. "We could try to avoid them."  They had been going in an
almost straight path toward the location of the crystal, the corridor going
into the center of the complex. The Chosen looked around and pointed at a
ventilation shaft. "I'm almost certain that the robots' legs are not flexible
enough to pass through there.  But we might be vulnerable to more of the larger
ones if we come out in a closed space, or a trap."

Darian shook his head. "At this point, anything is preferable to fighting our
way through hundreds of those things."  Hundreds was an exaggeration, but not a
vast one.  They had been attacked by over a dozen in a matter of minutes."

The Chosen nodded. "All right."  He carefully grasped the grating and moved it
aside, opening a latch to do so. "Behind you," he said calmly over his
shoulder.

Darian sighed and impaled another robot on a rose.  It was times like those
that he was grateful for having a supply of roses limited only by his powers, a
limit he had never been able to reach.  Once Nakiad had made him try to, making
him generate rose after rose, but the prince had never run out.

Five minutes later, they were inside the shaft, bent over so as not to hit the
ceiling, and Darian was getting more and more annoyed at the scouts'
strategies.



Amy smiled as they turned off the main corridor.  She had been trying to get
them into a ventilation shaft, and had finally succeeded.  The shafts, built
for the delicate balance of a theoretical biotech company, were easily
controllable.  The way Amy had them heading now, there was only one exit they
could possibly want to take.

Directly above the trap.



"This must be the place," Darian said.   Nakiad glanced at him with slight
annoyance and the prince grinned. "Sorry."

They had passed several offshoots in the ventilation system, but those passages
had not been in the direction of the crystal, so the two had passed by them.
At every intersection like that, the shaft had gotten slightly smaller, and now
was rather uncomfortable.  But they seemed to have reached the end of it.

It opened down, not to either side, and the drop below it was about ten meters.
There was a slight overhang from one wall that hid a fairly sizable patch of
the floor.  The overhang looked like it was not nearly as old as the rest of
the room, and somehow the prince did not think that was an accident.

"Nakiad."  He gestured at the overhang.

"I noticed."  Nakiad frowned for a moment, then got a coil of rope out of one
of the strange pouches. "You can fly down, correct?"

Darian nodded.

"Good."



Amy smiled to herself, leaving the robot on automatic.  It did not matter, she
knew they were coming, and they knew the robot was there.  The brawler was not
the trap, it was too obvious.

She activated the neural link.

But not to the robot under the overhang.



The brawler was on standby mode when a double shape dropped to the floor from
the ceiling, some ten meters up.  It took the robot a second to see the
infrared heat signature and activate itself, then another second to figure out
why the signature did not match any in its memory bank.

Nakiad was swinging the rope in a circle even as he absorbed the drop neatly
with his legs.  Directly behind him was Darian in prince form, his body heat
overlapping with Nakiad's, confusing the robot.

The rope the Chosen was swinging had a weight on it, a small metal sphere.  In
the moment before the robot decided to open fire, Nakiad lashed out with one
hand, and the line swung against the robot's legs, entangling them.  The small
metal sphere suddenly changed, four hooks emerging from it, and the barbs
tightened in the loops of rope.

The robot was about to fire when the shape before it suddenly doubled as Darian
launched himself up and over Nakiad's head, in a high arc at the robot.  For an
instant, the brawler followed the center of the heat mass, and its first two
blasts passed between the two targets, then the rope went tight as the Chosen
pulled with his full power at it.  The robot lurched, and its next shot, at
Nakiad, missed as well.

Then Darian came down at the brawler's head, slamming into it with both feet.
At the same time, Nakiad doubled to pull on the rope, and the robot collapsed
backward, its balance compromised. A moment later, Darian's sword slammed
directly through the top of the domed head and the brawler stopped twitching.

Darian smiled, looking down at the metal shape. "Well, that worked."

Heavy metal doors slammed down, closing off the exits, and four doors on other
walls opened, letting four more of the hard robots into the room.



Nakiad slammed into Darian, bearing the prince down to the floor, away from the
first blast.  In one hand, the Chosen was holding a small sphere, one of the
ones Darian had noticed him taking before.

"Flash."  Nakiad's voice was terse as he leapt away from Darian, and they
scattered to avoid the green blasts that suddenly filled the air.  This
occupied the prince's mind for a few moments, and he almost missed what the
Chosen had said until it was too late.

Nakiad threw the sphere directly at the dome of one of the robots as Darian
screwed both eyes tight and threw his cape over his face.

The room ignited into pure white light.



The flares had been designed and made by Nakiad, he knew exactly how they
worked.  Unlike an ordinary flash grenade, these did not burn themselves out in
one burst.  Instead, they released radiation with the same brightness
consistently for several minutes.

Even though he had closed his irises to mere points and covered his eyes for
the initial flash, he was almost blind.  There were some shadows, but that
would not help him with the robots.

It did not matter, Nakiad thought calmly, he had never depended on sight
alone.

Suspecting that the robot in front, hit directly, would be in no condition to
fight, he launched himself sideways.



Amy flinched back involuntarily against the sudden explosion of light, and
turned off the neural net.  A quick glance at the crystal behind her showed
that no foreign energy weapon was being used.  If it had been, then the crystal
would have flared, in theory ending the match.  That the game was still in
progress meant that the flare had not been powerful enough to interfere with
anything.  Amy smiled, turning back to the computer.  The blast had been
designed to blind, not to destroy.

She glanced at the panel, and sat back, again surprised.  Though the attack
seemed to have been designed to blind, the blast had fried every circuit in the
robot it had hit.  Much the way a human eyes can be destroyed by ultraviolet
radiation, the blast that had been intended merely to blind had overloaded the
sensitive circuits.

But she still had three robots left.  They were blind for the moment, but so
were Darian and Nakiad.  She suddenly paused in her thoughts, wondering about
that, but the answer came far too soon.

One of the three robots suddenly showed damage.  A dozen seconds later, the
transmission from it got cut off.

Hurrying, she turned on the neural link, settling into one of the other two
robots.



I am not blind, he yelled at himself, trying to convince his shaking body as he
attempted to figure out which way to go.  He had turned around when the light
had turned on, so there had to be a robot in front of him.  Resolved not to
just sit there, he pulled out his sword and lurched forward, his eyes tightly
closed.

Behind him and to one side, there was some metallic noise, and blasts were
fired.  He continued forward, sword held carefully, listening for anything.



Amy blinked rapidly and typed on the keyboard in front of her.  She might not
be able to see much, for the flare's radiation stretched well into the
infrared, which the robots used.  However, she might be able to use the light
itself, if she could cancel most of it out.  The blue scout frowned, punching
keys in front of her.

She got it.

The range was only a few meters, and a white background was painful to look at,
but if anyone came close she would be ready. 

Out of the light, Darian lurched forward, sword ready.

And obviously completely blind.

She smiled slightly, adjusting the beam for a prefect stun, and twisted the
robot to fire.



Darian heard the metallic motion just barely in time, and flattened himself on
the ground as the blast went off.  He saw nothing, but a heat wave passed over
him, and he assumed the miss had been close.  Cursing the brightness, the
prince grasped at the sword and rolled away to the side, into more
brightness.

Getting to his feet, he moved aside as another heatwave passed, and another.



Amy never noticed the sudden damage to the third robot.  She was too busy
finding Darian in the brightness, for he had rolled away out of her immediate
range.  She tried blasting into the light in the direction which he had taken,
but that did nothing.  Slowly, she advanced, wishing the brawlers made less
noise.



The noise.

Darian suddenly heard it over the brightness of the room.  That could only be
the robot.

He almost took a step away from it, but forced himself to stand straight.  As
soon as it passed him, he leapt forward at its position and struck out blindly
with his sword.



The robot suddenly lurched, and she turned the head around instantly.  Darian
was just standing there, ready to attack.  The sword slammed into the bullet
shaped body once more, weakly, and she moved the robot slightly.

Darian looked very foolish when his sword scattered away into the light.

She took careful aim.



For several heartbeats, Darian just stood there, having no clue where the robot
was, the wrench of the sword destroying his sense of direction.  The metal hulk
was near, but he had no clue in which direction to run.

Then he clutched at his eyes in sudden fear as the light vanished, leaving both
him and the robot blind.

The human eye is the best camera in the world.  

The prince's adjustment was a few seconds ahead of Amy's frantic commands, and
he flipped himself away from the hulk, out of its line of sight.

A moment later, he almost impaled himself on his own sword, held by Nakiad.
Blinking and grasping the weapon gratefully, he turned toward the robot.



Mina rushed through the corridors as fast as she could, avoiding the obstacles
placed in them.  She had been unable to wake up Raye, but the red scout was all
right, merely sleeping.  Nakiad had been at work there.

Mina almost slammed head on into the door.

"Whooh," she gasped, recoiling.  That meant that the trap had already been
sprang.  She glanced at the panel, and realized that the passageway had been
blocked five minutes before.  By this time, it should be over, she thought.

Still, she was ready for a fight when she pressed the keys that allowed the
door to rise up into the ceiling.

She was not ready to see Nakiad and Darian together, facing a single robot.
One other robot was standing, but it seemed disabled somehow, and another three
lay in various stages of disassembly on the large floor.

"Venus crescent beam SMASH!" She yelled out, and the two scattered away from
the beam.

Mina rushed up to the machine, sure that Amy was in control, surprised that it
was not doing anything.  Suddenly, the metal hulk moved and a cannon started
the whine before a blast.

As if it were in slow motion, Mina heard Nakiad yell something.  The words
reached her slowly somehow.

"Encore!" He had said.

She flinched away from the ball that was thrown toward them, and that saved her
eyes from unnecessary medical treatment.



"Jeez!"  Darian yelled as Nakiad pulled him along.

"Come on!" The Chosen yelled. "When Mina opened the one door, the others opened
as well."

Darian followed the Chosen's pull, trusting the other's sense of direction, and
a moment later the light vanished, cut off by a heavy door.

Rubbing his eyes, the prince turned to see Nakiad smashing the control panel to
the entrance.

"That ought to keep those two away."  The Chosen sighed, and Darian noticed
that one shoulder of the gi was torn, and an axe was missing.

"What happened?"

Nakiad shook himself. "Bad luck.  We have to go, that door won't stop them
forever.  And we are getting close."



Amy groaned, realizing they were cut off, and set the robot for automatic
refire at full power, trying to blast through the door.  She did not think it
would have much success, having designed the barrier herself to withstand
anything Nakiad could throw at it.  Amy had told Mina to try to go around
meanwhile, but there were only three passages into the middle of the complex.
The other two were minutes away, it would take too long.

"OK, Serena, you are on your own," Amy said calmly.

The scout of the moon nodded, composed for once.  She had already transformed,
and stood to one side of the corridor.

"Remember, Serena, all you have to do is take out Darian.  The corridor will
get rid of Nakiad, if we do not stop them, which we probably will."  Better
plan for the worst, the blue scout thought, then smiled at her own seriousness.
In a way, having her own traps put to the test made the exercise seem almost
real. "Also, remember that the barrier is double, so Darian will have to
actually get there to blast through, he won't be able to just throw a rose,
since he won't get all the way through."  At least not with one rose, Amy
thought ruefully, running out, hoping the intruders had not reached the next
defense.

Serena gulped in anticipation of having to hurt her love, but she knew it would
not harm him in the long term, and she knew she had to do this.

She was ready.

And surprisingly, she would succeed.



"What do you think so far?"  Darian asked as they rushed down the corridor.
His eyes felt almost recovered, and he had suffered only slight bruises so far.
But he was also extraordinarily tired.

"I think Amy's seen way too many Robocop movies," Nakiad answered, his lips
unsmiling.  

Darian felt a mental grin. "You should see the programming of her computer."

Nakiad paused, then shrugged. "So far, they've shown a lot of initiative and 
originality.  The spiderweb thing, the robot trap.  They managed to get rid of 
all of my power, when I had to absorb that bolt of fire, so I won't be able to 
do that again.  And I lost an axe."

"How much more do you think we have to go?"

They had just rounded another corner in the corridor, and continued for a few
seconds. The corridor just ahead narrowed slightly, and they started down the
smaller passage.

"I'd say one or two traps," Nakiad answered as the fog hit them.  Both stopped
short as everything around them disappeared in a white haze and Nakiad grasped
the prince's arm sharply. "Watch out."  He yanked them both back as something
began to whine ahead.

The blasts that followed were continuous and unstopping, but not one of them
hit.  The very air pulsed with the energy pulses that filled it, and green
flashes hurled at the two men.

Darian flattened himself against the wall even more as a blast passed him.
They were standing side by side right next to the narrowing of the corridor,
the sudden bend in the wall protecting them from the blast.  They were safe.

But they could not move.

"Now what?" He asked, trying to remain calm as another greenish blast passed an
inch away from his chest, disappearing into the milky white it came from.  An
idle part of his brain wondered why all the energy weapons were green tinted,
and decided that it was a manifestation of their supposed noninterference with
the crystal.

"You do realize," he continued to Nakiad, "that all they have to do is advance,
and they have us?"

The other did not seem to be listening.  He had taken the position closest to
the narrowing, so was slightly more protected.  From this relative safety he
was staring at the ceiling.  Suddenly he took out the axe.

"What are you doing?" Darian asked, annoyed.  He always seemed to be one step
behind the Chosen.

Nakiad smiled slightly as the axe passed cleanly through the ceiling, and he
began cutting out a square large enough to pass through.  Beyond, there was
only darkness.

"Where are you going?"

"To the last refuge of the incompetent, where else?" Nakiad asked quietly, and
pulled himself into the blackness in one lithe move.

Darian positioned himself under the opening, and was about to try to follow
when the Chosen's face reappeared. "On my signal, attack."

"What signal?" Darian asked the empty shaft.



Lita felt great.

The exoskeletal battle suit fairly pulsed with power as it sprayed out the
deadly green barrage of energy.  Slowly, she advanced, ready for any trickery.
Behind her, Amy was protected by the frame of Lita's heavy suit.  It would not
take much longer before the two men were taken.

She never saw the black shape that dropped out of the ceiling behind the blue
scout, never saw Amy collapse to the floor.  The hum of power that resulted
from the green stun pulses deafened her to the blue scout's fall.



Behind her, Nakiad took out the remaining axe, frowning in disapproval at the
cumbersome metallic suit.  He had told them time and time again that skill was
more important than brutal strength.  He would have to show them the other
suits he had been working on, he thought quietly.  With a fluid motion, he
brought the axe down hard and jerked his hand away from the bolts of
electricity that blasted out of the damaged power cell.

The blasts ceased and the suit began to fold, flexing just before it collapsed
to the floor. In that movement of motion, Lita was spit out onto the floor.

Lita came out quickly, her eyes blazing as she turned to face Nakiad.  A small
bolt of lightning began to form in her hands, and she could not miss in the
narrow corridor.  Nakiad started to move, realizing that for once, he had
underestimated his opposition.  He had not expected Lita to come out of the
suit so quickly.

Darian slammed both hands into the base of the green scout's neck and she went
down.

"Thanks," Nakiad said. "I don't think I could have withstood that blast, not
after Raye's fire."  He checked the green scout's pulse. "She'll be all right.
That was harder than necessary."

"Sorry," Darian answered apologetically.  He had not exactly had much choice.

Nakiad was already looking at the map. "Only a hundred meters or so ahead,
let's go."

The corridor jagged, and they suddenly saw it.  It was under a hemispherical
sphere of glass, a large transparent crystal.  It was also stunningly
beautiful, its facets reflecting  the lights of the interior room.

"Something is wrong."  Nakiad paused suddenly.  "Something.  In the corridor."
Only ten meters from the entrance, he stopped, and Darian suddenly felt the
walls charge with power.  He was not too great at detecting energy, that was
Raye's department, but something was about to happen.

"Run!"

Around them, flashes of electricity covered the walls. Nakiad grasped the
handle of the axe as he started running, and threw it forward as hard as he
could just as the lightning hit him.  Thousands of volts of electricity slammed
into him, dove into his body, to his heart.  He fought against the incredible
pain, but it was too much.  His mind darkened slowly, giving in to the torture,
unable to absorb or reflect the sudden attack.  If he had not been hit by Raye
before, he might have won.  But not now.

In slow motion, Nakiad collapsed to the floor at the edge of the entrance.



Inside, Serena gasped as the axe smashed into the protective dome, shattering
it into a cloud of glassy dust.  The blade went wild, missing the crystal
completely, but the stone was now alone, unprotected.  The double defense was
the best they could do because of the rules that had been given to them, and
now the shield was gone.

A moment later, the top half of Nakiad's body collapsed across the entrance,
then Darian appeared.

Sailor Moon was ready.  Without a second thought, holding her fears back, she
released her powers, allowed them to lash out at a level that would stun but
not kill.  The blast hit Darian directly, and he slammed into the floor only
meters away from the crystal.

Concentrating only on him, Serena did not see his sword's gently ark.

The blade flashed softly through the air.

It slammed into the crystal a second later, and the room seemed to explode.

_	_	_


He came out of the blackness painfully, his whole body screaming.  Even before
his eyes had opened he recognized that the scouts were standing over him, all
of them, and he was in one of his med rooms.

"Hold on, I think he's coming to."  Amy's voice, he identified, almost proud of
that achievement because his mind was still swimming in a red haze of pain.

"I told you that it was set too high," Mina replied sharply to someone he could
not hear. Then he felt her bent over him. "Are you all right?"

He groaned and opened his eyes. "Never been better," he lied somewhat
unconvincingly, the tried to sit up.  He managed to do it on the second
attempt, with Mina's help.

Darian was on the next bed, looking somewhat out of it, and the scouts were
gathered around the two.

"Who won?" Nakiad asked aloud.

The computer paused for a fraction of a second. "Black team."

The scouts did not react for a moment, then Serena frowned. "Say what?  I mean,
we trashed you!  Neither one of you was conscious at the end, and it has taken
you like an hour to come to."

Nakiad blinked, surprised. "Really?"

Amy sighed. "Seventeen minutes for you, six for Darian.  Was that setting too
high?  I tried to make it powerful enough to stop you no matter what, but not
powerful enough to kill you.  As if that wasn't hard enough, considering how
little I know of your physiology, I also had to make it so Darian wouldn't get
hit, because the same setting would have killed him instantly."

"Hey!" Darian said, wincing in pain as Raye looked at his back critically.  It
was somewhat burnt, but he seemed all right otherwise.

"Wait a second, guys," Serena interrupted, "how come they won?"

Raye sighed and slapped Darian on the shoulder a little, ignoring the pained
look he gave her. "You'll be fine."  The red scout turned to Serena. "Their
objective was to destroy the crystal, which they did-" she paused "-barely.
Their survival was not being tested, only their ability to complete the
mission."

"Oh."  Serena nodded. "Isn't that sort of stupid?  I mean, suicidal
missions?"

Nakiad echoed Raye's sigh, getting up.  Though his nervous system was still
buzzing with the damage from the shock, he remained more or less erect, leaning
only slightly on Mina. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you.  Shall we go
examine the data?"

Everyone in the room groaned.  He had made them look at the recordings from
exercises in the past, and it had been exhaustive.  And they had never had
anything approaching the length or complexity of this, so they knew that this
would take a long time.

"I've told you before-" he began, but they finished for him.

"Yeah, yeah.  There's no point to practice if you don't learn from your
mistakes."

He smiled. "In that case, why the sighs?  Come."

They went, well aware that he was right.  And he had never asked them to like
it.

_	_	_


Three hours later they were exhausted mentally as well as physically, but not
nearly finished.  Finally, Nakiad relented.

"All right, all right."  He sighed, and the computer screens that had been
active for hours turned off.  I guess you should get some rest.  We will
continue next time."

Gratefully, the scouts started to get up, but he stopped them. "First, I want
to show you something.  I wasn't sure if I was going to, but seeing the way
Lita had an exoskeletal suit, I'd better admit my own hubris."

"Your own what?" Serena asked, yawning.



Darian was surprised to see that they went back to the armory, but this time
Nakiad passed through it quickly.  Surprisingly, the scouts did not seem
particularly interested in the amazing range of weapons.  The prince smiled to
himself, remembering that they had been working at the compound for several
weeks, making the fake factory, and they would have been at the armory before.
Actually, Darian thought, it was surprising that he himself had not seen it
until the exercise.

Nakiad stopped in front of a patch of wall that was occupied by modern guns of
various styles.  Selecting an automatic pistol, he grasped a clip of bullets,
seemingly at random, and motioned for the scouts to follow him.

"I am impressed that you came up with a working suit in the short time you
had," the Chosen began, walking toward one of the doors in the armory, "but I
assure you that it is not as good an idea as it may seem."  They walked into a
long room that looked a little like a target range.  On the far side were
several objects in shadows, impossible to see well in the darkness of the
chamber.

"I have given the idea of external enhancement some thought over the past
couple of hundred years, but it did not particularly appeal to Nakiad as he was
then.  Besides, it would have been extraordinarily difficult, if not
impossible, to create an external suit that would be more helpful to a Chosen
than it was harmful.  So I filed the idea for future use, partially because of
lack of motivation, partially because it was not practical.

"I did not completely ignore it, however."  He pinched a fold of his suit
between two fingers. "My gi is a unique living creature, something that had
never existed on this planet.  It has the strength and resilience of a
spiderweb, and I can control it with my mind because it is part of me."

He shrugged. "Unfortunately, making it was also horrendously difficult.  It
took a very large amount of time, and experiments with my own DNA which you
might not want to know about.  Suffice it to say that conducting the same
experiments on others," it was obvious that he was talking about the scouts,
Darian thought, "would make their continued survival be- doubtful."  A brief
flash of pain came out of the Chosen's eyes, and the prince looked away. "It
was not particularly pleasant for me, either," Nakiad said quietly.

"Fortunately, only making the original blueprint is difficult, generating many
copies of the cells involved is relatively easy.  I was able to regenerate the
whole suit from a few stored cells, after I lost the gi in the last fight with
the Dark Lord."

Then he looked up, calm again. "However, there are other, less extreme
enhancements that are possible, and those are relatively easy to do.  When
Nakiad absorbed all of the people in Guardian, he gained an incredible amount
of knowledge of Silver Millennium technology.  So, without continuing to bore
you with speeches, here is what I wanted to show you."

He did not move, but the far side of the room lit up.  There, in a row, stood
six suits, five white and one black.  The five white suits looked identical
other than for several bands of color each had.  They looked somewhat like thin
battle armor, the prince realized after more examination.  Although nothing but
the white showed on the surface, Darian was somehow sure that there was a lot
of machinery under the surface.  Each of the five suits also had a white helmet
with a large, clear visor that would give the wearer an unobstructed view of
the surroundings.

The other suit was strange.  It looked almost as if Nakiad had stopped building
it after a while.  There were fairly large portions in several places, but the
wearer would not be nearly as well covered as one wearing a white suit.  All of
the joints were left uncovered, and there was no helmet.

Nakiad walked forward a little, gesturing at the suits. "I started on a few
projects a while ago, and this is one of them.  It took a long time to
complete, and even a longer time to realize how usel-"  He paused. "Perhaps I
should start at the beginning," he said, with the merest suggestion of a smile.

"The five suits I made first, one for each Sailor Scout.  They are a
combination of armor and muscle enhancement. The defensive aspect is pretty
good-" Nakiad took out the gun he had brought and aimed it. "Good enough to
withstand even armor piercing rounds."

Darian flinched as the gun's noise smashed into his ears.  On the other side of
the room, the visor of one of the white suits flashed as the bullet rebounded
off it.  Nakiad fired several more times, at different parts of the suits, and
none of the bullets penetrated.

"After I finished those, I decided to build a suit for Darian, but
experimentation proved that his own clothes can withstand as much punishment as
anything I can build.  The prince outfit in particular can not be pierced by
even large caliber rounds.  Also, Darian, your flying ability and the strength
of both your forms make muscle enhancement unnecessary.  At the same time, I
was doing some tests on the scout's suits, and found them unsatisfactory, so I
decided to experiment on myself first.  So I built the last suit, which is the
black one.  As you can easily see, it does not provide nearly as much
protection.  But it does have experimental rocket boosters on the legs which,
in theory, could allow very large jumps.  The rockets are not, however, as
effective as I have hoped, and they have several bugs which make them useless
for actual flight.  The suit also has a complete uplink to my computer,
connecting through satellites so I can be anywhere on the planet and use it.
And all six suits come complete with neutron rifles, which are extremely potent
against anything organic.  I've only figured out how to get a high enough
concentration of particles a short time ago, but now, these things are
extremely deadly."  He smiled slightly. "Very nice, right?"

Lita looked at the white suit with green bands of color, obviously intended for
her. "Right," she answered.

"Wrong," Nakiad said calmly.  "This is why I wanted to show you these.  Yes,
for a human, they would create an extraordinary advantage in fighting, giving
that person great strength and speed.  But I tested them, and they will not
provide any help at all to Sailor Scouts.  Their strength is nothing compared
to yours, and any advantage in defense they can provide is taken away by the
way they would hamper your movement.  And the armor would be useless against
the kind of threat that you have to face as Sailor Scouts."

"Oh," Lita said quietly.

Next to Darian, Raye blinked. "Then why show them to us?"

Nakiad looked at her calmly. "Two reasons.  One, it is a demonstration that no
one is without fault.  I thought I could design something more effective than
the Sailor Scouts, which is as clear an example of arrogance, of hubris, as
anything else.  The other reason is to remind you that you are, in fact, the
best.  As Sailor Scouts, no weapon can match your power, no external
enhancement will aid you.  Your own abilities as defenders of this universe are
your best asset, and once you learn to use those abilities completely, you will
be unstoppable."

No one spoke for several seconds. "What about you?" Serena finally asked.

Nakiad's eyes lowered to the ground. "My fight was finished when I melted with
the Dark Lord."  A brief expression of pain washed over his face at that
statement, but the expression was gone instantly. "It is you who are the true
defenders of Earth, you must remember that always."

Slowly, Serena nodded, and the others followed.  Nakiad stared them down until
they did, then he sighed. "Good, then.  We will continue going over the data
tomorrow night."

Mina looked up. "Nakiad?"

"Yes?"

"Um.. we are all going shopping tomorrow," she started, and he steeled himself,
"you want to come with us?"

Nakiad gave a sigh. "Love, you know how I hate-"

She looked at him, and he felt his certainty wobble. "Please?" She asked. "It
would really mean a lot to us.  Lately, it almost seems like you are avoiding
us."

He sighed again, well aware that in the end, he would lose to those eyes.  He
might as well give up graciously, he thought with an internal smile. "All
right.  When should I meet you?"

"I'll call you," she said brightly, turning and smiling when she thought he
could no longer see her.

"Mina?"

"Yes?"  She turned, quickly hiding the smile.

"I might not see your smile, but I can feel your emotions just fine," he said,
keeping a straight face.

"Uh.  Oops."  She grinned and waved. "See you tomorrow."

He watched silently as she left, then told the computer to send the van up so
they could take it if the need arose.  

Her recovery had been amazing, he thought silently.  Less than two weeks had
passed since he had shown them the video, less than two weeks since the
incident in the alley, and she had forgiven him.  She loved him, he knew.

That, more than anything else, made hiding the truth hard.

He sighed, wondering why Amy was standing behind him.

"Nakiad."

He turned slowly. "Speaking."

"I need to talk to you about something."

He smiled a little, his emotions strained. "I've never had anything against
talking before, have I?"

"No.  But this is-"  The blue scout paused. "Kind of delicate."

Nakiad shook his head. "I do not get bruised feelings easily."

"All right."  He felt her gather all the courage she had, then she let it out
on one breath. "You've been lying to us," the blue scout said. She looked down
immediately. "I'm sorry, that's not the way I wanted to say it."

He felt an internal smile but he forced his face to remain impassive.  "But 
that is what you think.  How so?"  Actually, in several ways, but he was 
not about to admit it.  Mostly they were omissions, not direct lies.

Not that that made them any easier to bear.

She sighed and sat down at one of the chairs in the control room. "You told us
a while ago that you have granted us full access to this whole facility."

The Chosen shrugged. "Not exactly.  You asked me for it, and afterward, you
found it to be so.  I do not believe I ever said that you had access to the
whole facility."

Amy looked sad. "How are we supposed to trust you if we have to think about
every word you say, constantly wonder if you are telling the whole truth?"

Her words echoed in his mind.  

Trust.  

"The answer is obvious, Amy."  He sat down. "You can not."

She smiled slightly at that and looked even further down.

"So why do you think that I've been lying?"

She turned to one of the screens. "Computer.  Bring up the schematic of this
facility.  There was no discernible pause before the screen lit up.  As before,
the upper areas and the vast changeable training area came up lit.  But a large
portion at the center did not come up, it remained blank.  "See that center
area?" Amy asked rhetorically. "On the map, it reads solid, and I thought at
first that it was for support, understandable in something this large.  I also
guessed it might be a power source of some sort, since you obviously need an
enormous amount of energy to run this place."

"But?"

Amy looked at him calmly. "I'm not sure what made me curious about this at
first, but there are several things that do not compute.  For example, when I
was working with the biotechnology, working with the spiders and the glue
web-"

"Nice idea, by the way."

The blue scout blushed, obviously flattered.  Nakiad wondered how much of the
comment was sincere and how much designed to distract Amy.  Some part deep
inside cringed at his own thoughts.  Frowning at himself for such methods, he
looked back at the girl.

"So you said."  She refused to get sidetracked, though her words came out with
less coherence as she continued.  He had long noticed that confrontations were
difficult for her. "And there were at least several references in the log to a
storage room I could not find.  Also, there is a patch of wall that looks like
a door, but the computer denies it.  And although I have gone through all the
labs you have, the number and variety of which are stunning, there were several
that it seems like you should have but do not."

"Like what?"

"Well, you do not seem to have an advanced biotechnology lab, for modifying
larger creatures.  There is a small storage room for biologically altered
creatures, but everything there is almost completely harmless, strains of
bacteria that make a substitute for human blood, human insulin, things that are
useful but could hardly be used in a dangerous way.  And somehow, it would seem
that in tinkering with creatures' DNA, you would come up with some things that
are less than safe."

Nakiad nodded, forcing his face to remain calm.  "I could have just destroyed
anything that I thought could cause damage.  Is that all?"

"No."  She was more determined now. "There are also chemicals missing, files
missing. The weapons room does not contain your swords, or the Knight's mace,
which I believe you recovered."  Amy stumbled, blushing. "Seems rather far
fetched, doesn't it?"  Then she shook his head, obviously forcing herself to
continue. "But there is something else.  In almost every room around that
center part of the complex, there is a patch of inner wall that resembles a
door.  And the computer denies those things are doors."

For a minute, he sat there, looking at her, then sighed. "You are far too
clever for your own good, do you know that, Sailor Mercury."

"I'm right, aren't I?"

He shrugged. "Of course.  I'm surprised that you had the courage to confront me
about it."

"Thanks," she whispered. "It was not exactly easy." She leaned forward.
"Nakiad, we are your friends.  But you are always hiding things from us, there
are always dark things about you.  What is it that you do not wish us to know?"
Her eyes were pleading.

It was not that easy.  Then he shook his thoughts aside.  That was true, things
were never as simple as they seemed, but that would not have been an answer.

He trusted Amy, he trusted all of the scouts, he believed that.

But his past hid in dark corners of his mind, lashing out against him.  There
were things he would not have done the same if he had to do them over again.
He felt a bitter twist to his mind.  He did not regret anything, he could not
afford to.

Still, there were things he would not have done.

Gauntlets-  He forced them out of his thoughts.

He owed the scouts at least part of the truth, so he got up. "My past," he
answered, and motioned for her to follow him.



"Actually," he began slowly, "all three of your hypotheses were correct.  The
center acts like a support column, with incredibly strong alloys running the
full height of the structure.  And my power plant is there, at the center of
the compound. But that is not all that there is inside."

He turned toward the panel on the elevator. "Computer, grant the scouts full
access to the complex.  Authorization Nemesis one."

The computer hesitated. "Are you sure?"

Amy was surprised to see Nakiad falter at that, but his face was still mostly
under control. "Yes."  But he seemed surprised.

"Is something wrong?" She asked.

"No," he replied slowly, but he did not seem sure.

"I thought you didn't want to lie to us."  She tried to make her voice come out
teasing.  It did not come out that way, it came out petty and accusing.

He sighed. "It just is not the typical response for the computer."

"You mean I might have been right about it being controlled."

He shook his head. "No.  That's impossible."  He turned back to the panel.
"Silo."

Amy raised an eyebrow as they started into motion.  It took only a moment for
them to arrive.

Silently, the doors opened on one of the cleanest rooms Amy had ever seen.  The
blue scout blinked, stepping out of the elevator.  The room was similar to the
armory in that it seemed to be in the shape of a torus, a doughnut curving
around the center of the complex.  But in this room, the curvature of the walls
was far more obvious. Amy estimated that the center the room was build
around was less than a dozen meters behind the inner wall.

The far side, away from the center, was covered with terminals, screens and
keyboards of various complexities and sizes.  But all of them were dark and
silent.  At irregular intervals, doors broke the pattern of the instruments,
doors similar to the ones Amy had stepped through to get out of the elevator a
second before.

But it was the inner wall that attracted the most attention.  Although it
looked somewhat like metal, a pearly hue suggested that the surface was far
stronger than industrial materials.  The wall seemed to be somehow separate
from the rest of the room, as if the chamber had been built around it.  
Blinking, the blue scout realized that the inner surface was also curved 
from the floor to the ceiling, which suggested that it was part of a larger 
sphere.

Amy turned to see a very strange expression on Nakiad's face.  The Chosen was
staring at the inner wall with a mixture of opposite emotions.  He looked like
he was facing an ultimate evil, yet one that he was attracted to at the same
time.  The blue scout watched, fascinated, for Nakiad rarely showed any emotion
at all.  To have this sort of conflict plainly visible was rare indeed.

Then he seemed to snap out of his trance, and his face was calm once more.
"About-" He began, then stopped. "This room is as close to the center of my
complex as it is humanly possible to get at this time.  Ten meters in from the
place where we are standing is, for its size, the most powerful reactor that
exists in the world today.  Though there are ones that are more powerful, they
are also much larger."

Amy blinked, drawing the ramifications. "You mean it is nuclear?"  She was
surprised to see him flinch slightly at the word. "What is it?"

His voice was slow. "Just old dreams."

But he had told her once that he did not dream, had not for many hundreds of
years.  After centuries of training, he had lost that ability to his fighting,
to the preparation for combat. 

Amy swallowed.  That meant that it was unlikely that the reason for his
flinching was a dream.  And whatever had happened had to have caused incredible
pain to make Nakiad visibly react at a reminder of that happening.  The only
thing Amy could think of that was that deadly was being near a nuclear
explosion, and she doubted that he was stupid enough to come close to a testing
site.  Or to be unaware of a testing site.

Which meant that it had not been a test.

The blue scout felt herself shiver, and forced her mind back to the present.
"Fission?" She asked quietly.

He was under control once more, impassive. "No."

Amy turned her head back to the wall, stunned.  Scientists had been trying to
carry out controlled nuclear fusion for decades, and had met with very limited
success.  And if Nakiad was telling the truth, which she did not doubt, then he
had done it.  Only a few meters away from her was a beating, burning piece of
the sun, thrust into some sort of containment, generating enough energy to
power a city.  And screaming to get out.  She shuddered again.

"How?" She whispered. "Cold fusion?"

He seemed to have relaxed slightly.  "Of course not.  That was just a foolish
dream, a hoax, I suspect.  No, this is the old fashioned way."

"But how do you keep it contained?"

"I use the power generated by the reaction, and force it back on itself.  A
trick from the Silver Millennium, and from myself.  The energy fights itself,
keeping the reaction contained, and I merely take a small fraction of the power
off.  It is enough for my needs."

Amy nodded, her mind still whirling.  She had suspected something of the sort,
but the reality was incredible.  But still, it did not explain why he had been
so loath to tell the scouts of the power planet.  She felt her subconscious
searching for the answer.

A free part of her mind remembered something, most of her attention still taken
up by the larger question. "Why didn't you use this to power your jump to the
Negaverse?" she asked, stalling for time to think.

He answered quietly. "Several reasons.  The most important is that the Dark
Lord could have calculated the source of that jump precisely, and I did not
want him to know where this was."  He shrugged, obviously aware of the irony.
"The point is moot, now."

She suddenly had it, and she swallowed.  His secretiveness fell into place, the
hidden rooms, their location near the central power plant.

The blue scout turned to Nakiad. "What would happen if you released the energy
feedback loop?"

He smiled slightly, though a flicker of pain showed in his eyes.  Then he made
a fist and smashed it into the palm of his other hand with a crack.

She nodded. "In how long?"

His eyes flickered.  "Unless there was a countdown, the explosion would happen
to quickly to escape it."

"And what exactly would happen?"

He sighed. "The explosion in question will release approximately one times ten
to the nineteenth joules of energy, and will spread at a speed marginally less
than light.  The entire spherical complex is covered with a twenty-foot layer
of concrete, which will absorb almost all of the impact, stopping the
destruction there, and most of the primary radiation.  Since this would be a
fusion explosion, any escaping radiation will be negligible.  The secondary
radiation will not be a problem."

"What about the building?"

"The explosion will vaporize or liquefy everything within the sphere."

Amy blinked. "No way that is an accident," she whispered.

"No," he answered quietly. "No, it is not.  I designed everything almost
perfectly.  The explosion will bounce off the concrete, resulting in an
implosion, and the resulting reversed wave of energy will enhance the effect.
The concrete directly above this point has a designed weak point, the house,
and it will start collapsing as the secondary wave bounces off.  The collapse
will spread rather rapidly, burying what is left of this installation under a
rather large amount of concrete."

She swallowed. "You speak as if it will happen."

His eyes were hard. "Yes."

Yes, he did speak that way, or yes, it would happen? Amy wondered.  And if the
latter, then how could he know?

"What would happen to the immediate surroundings?"  To the blank areas on the
map, she did not have to add.

He did not pause. "Most of the immediate surroundings will be turned into
plasma by the initial blast.  Everything else will be vaporized."

She sat down against a console, suddenly very tired. "Well, that explains why
the blank spots are at the center, not at the bottom as I would have expected.
You do not wish them to be hidden, you wish them to be destroyed in case
anything happens.  What is it?"  She suddenly got angry. "What is so dangerous
that it must be destroyed?"

He looked at her with pain. "Come."  He led the way back to the lift. "Gen," he
said to the panel.

The lift moved down slightly, then moved sideways, and Amy's stomach sank as
she realized that they were going underneath the fusion reactor.  She could
almost feel the power over her head, threatening to come down.

The got out into a gloomily lit room dark green tones.  There were two doors on
either side of them, and Amy realized that the place was a sort of entrance
hallway.  The blue scout pointed to the outer door.  "Open."

The computer responded instantly. "One moment, please."

Amy turned to Nakiad.

"It's all right.  The room is kept at negative pressure, so the computer has to
change it.  The pressure in the elevator is easier to do, and the process is
almost unnoticeable."

Amy almost shivered as the door opened.  She had heard of a building that was
kept under negative pressure.  It was the CDC, the center for disease control
of the United States of America.  The doors opened, and she saw the biotech lab
she had worked at during the exercise, preparing the spiderweb.

"Close."  Nakiad ordered.

Amy noticed how heavy the doors were as they swung inward and locked.  This
time she was feeling for the atmosphere change and felt it, a slight pressure
inside her ears that disappeared almost immediately.  Nakiad turned around,
toward the entrance opposite the one that had just opened.

She got into the suit without protest, now sure of what was ahead.  But she had
to see it.



The room at the center was dark, gloomy, painted in the same dull green.  The
air was chilly, lending even more to the gloomy atmosphere than the lights.
But the ceiling was noticeably curved, and although it too was painted green,
the texture was unmistakable.

It was the fusion power plant, directly overhead, and only her will allowed her
to ignore the power she knew was there, hanging over her, pressing down.

Row after row of shelves stretched out in the large room.  On each shelf were
hundreds of  canisters, small cylinders on the surfaces of which frost had
drawn its impossibly complex patterns.

Nakiad tapped her on the shoulder.  He, too was dressed in one of the suits,
although he had explained that for him it was not necessary, since nothing
there could hurt him.  'Almost nothing', he had added, and Amy shivered at the
memory.

"The things in here are coded," he said, his voice hollow through the suit.
"The colored strips on the canisters show what each object is designed for.
Most of the things are generally harmless."

"But not all of them," Amy whispered. "Otherwise, why would you have this room
be in the deadliest position, directly under the power plant?  If it were to
destruct, this place would be vaporized, turned into plasma, then driven all
the way to the bottom of the wreckage, buried under tons of molten steel and
concrete."

"Yes," he breathed.

A cylinder caught her eye, and she changed direction.  For a moment, she tried
to wipe away the moisture on the inside of her visor with her fingers,
scratching ineffectively against the plastic surface, then remembered to turn
on the conditioning in her suit.

The cylinders were in a row, covered with a secondary layer of plastic, in
addition to the metal canisters.  "Incurable," she read aloud the sign on the
long shelf, the started reading off the labels off individual cylinders.
"Ebola."  She looked further down the row, her emotions sinking as she
remembered what she knew about the deadly virus. " Ebola, airborne variety."
She frowned. "I did not know that a deadly version of the airborne type
existed."

His voice was dull. "It doesn't."

"Oh," she whispered.  She continued down the shelf, recognizing some names, but
not others, missing a lot of them.  Some, she was sure, did not exist in the
world outside of this room.  Finally, she forced her morbid curiosity away from
that string of shelves.  Her breath caught in her throat as she saw once more
the endless number of rows, fading into darkness as the room curved upward.
The green atmosphere started pressing in on her as she imagined the things
contained in those metallic cylinders.  Most of them were probably just altered
bacteria, perhaps enormously useful. But a few, a very few could kill her if
she were just in the same room.  A few could kill every human on the planet.

The blue scout sighed, turning to Nakiad, then away, walking among the rows,
her mind wishing more and more to go somewhere else.  A strangely colored
series of cylinders caught her eye and she turned to another shelf.

The canister's color code was strange strips of peaceful blue alternating with
sharp red.  The label of the first one was OVP, with a further explanation in
smaller letters.  But like many of the labels, the explanation was not in
Japanese, it looked like English.

"What does that mean?  So far, the blue stands for something good, like the
antigens. But the tint of red is for incurable diseases."

"Yes.  He smiled sadly.  It was a good idea, while it lasted.  Someone else
actually had thought of something very similar a while back, but they had the
same problem."

She shook her head in annoyance. "Yes, but what is it?"

"OVP stands for Omni Virophage.  It is- basically, it is a virus that, if
released, will kill just about every other virus in the world."

Amy's eyes fairly lit up as she looked at the cylinder. "Then why the red?"

"Think about it."

She looked at it for a few seconds then shook her head. "I don't get it.  All
viruses, all diseases will be dead.  No more HIV, no more of any of the viruses
that cause immense suffering."

"Yes.  That is what I thought, too, made blind by the thing I had created.
Then I had run a simulation of the action of OVP on the world.  First, every
dangerous virus in the world was destroyed.  Then, in every single simulation,
as few as two and as many as twenty years, every single human on the planet is
dead."

She jerked back from the canister. "How?"

His voice remained hollow, almost apathetic. "Mutation.  Viruses would always
survive, and they come back, changed.  Unfortunately, the mutations would be
such that the viruses will no longer be viable, compatible with the world.  And
human defense systems will not be able to deal with them.  Everyone will die,
in the end.  Even the viruses themselves."  Dark humor flashed behind his
faceplate.  "Might not be such a bad idea, too."

She swallowed hard and got up, her eyes attracted to the steel ceiling,
pressing in on her. "All right.  Can we go?"  Her nerves were practically
screaming at her.

Nakiad nodded sadly.



Shed sighed, finally out of the ridiculous suit.  It had taken them half an
hour to go through the cumbersome sterilization routine, but she had made no
complaint.  This was one time she definitely did not wish to depend on luck.

"Come on," Nakiad said heavily. "There is one more room I want to show you.
Everything else is just average stuff- the weapons room, some offshoots of
that, toxic chemicals, things that would normally need to be destroyed.  But
this-"  He paused, and turned toward the lift.

Amy followed, sincerely wishing she could just go home and forget about all of
this.  For once, even her scientific curiosity was slightly more that she
wanted to have.

The room they entered was dark.

Amy breathed in the slightly cooler air, looking around the gloominess. Behind
them, the lift doors closed completely, and they were trapped in the blackness.
From the way the air moved freely, and some general impressions, the blue scout
decided that the room was large, but something within it was hiding all light.
She could see the space in front of her for a meter or so, but the very air
seemed to absorb her sight, and anything beyond that was black.

Her voice came out in an involuntary whisper in the cool darkness. "What is
this place?"

He, too, seemed somehow awed. "This place, princess Mercury," she wondered at
the use of her long forgotten title, "is my home."  He paused as if gathering
strength.  "When I am not training, when I am not in a fight for my life, I am
often here."

"I- but what is it?"  She could still see almost nothing.

"It is-" he paused, "-a sanctuary of sorts, a temple perhaps.  Come."  He moved
into the night, and she hurried to keep up, aware of how easily his form
blended in with the shadows.

They reached a slight brightening in the room a moment later.  A simple black
bed, mere inches above the ground was there.  Next to it were several shapes,
almost hidden by the darkness, and Nakiad led her toward them.

The first was a wooden stand on which a pair of swords rested.  Amy breathed in
softly.  They were two of the most powerful weapons in existence, the alternate
form of the Chosen's staff.  They lay easily on the wooden support, their
strange blades glistening in a light that did not seem to exist.

"Watch," he whispered tightly, then extended one hand toward a handle.

As it got close, the weapons suddenly glowed with a white light, and a slight
hum emanated from them.  Nakiad ignored it and continued to extend his fingers,
one finally touching the smooth handle.

A flash of energy hurled his hand away, an a crack of thunder dulled Amy's
hearing.

"What happened?" she asked.

He winced slightly, rubbing the damaged arm with his other hand. "I do not
know, really."  His voice was tired again.  "Apparently, the blades will no
longer accept me as one of the Chosen.  I dare not try to overcome them, for
then I would not know whom they belonged to."

Amy tried to figure out the last sentence.  When she looked up, Nakiad was
already on his way further into the darkness.

Another shape loomed, another stand.  This time it was a single sword, broad,
long and straight, very much like Prince Darian's weapon.  But the blue scout
knew it for what it was, for the Dark Lord' sword.  Despite the integration of
its master into the Chosen, it still gleamed with evil in the darkness, and she
felt the darkness it radiated.

Nakiad did not hesitate, grabbing the handle of it with the same hand, but once
more a flash of energy hurled him away before he could hold on.  He looked
sadly at Amy.

She sighed. "Why?"

He echoed her. "I do not know, simply."

"And the less simple answer?"

"The less simple answer-"  He sighed, trailing off. "I guess I wanted you to
ask that."  He smiled bitterly. "The more complex answer is that I am not the
Chosen.  But nor am I am not Guardian nor the Dark Lord."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean-"  He visibly forced himself to calm. "The weapons were created to be
used by the Chosen and the Shadow, specifically made to fit them, to be wielded
by them and them alone.  And lately, I am neither."

"Then what are you?"

He paused, looking into the darkness.  "Did I tell you that Kaneth called a few
days ago?  He said-" Nakiad paused, then continued, determined. "He said that a
creature with great mental powers had broken off from his army and is going
here, to the Universe.  Going to attack me.  I believe it is this creature who
has increased the pressure on me, who is making the unbalance greater.  So much
more so that even my weapons do not recognize me."  His eyes flashed darkly.
"No, Amy,  I am not sure what I am, and I do not know where this is heading."
He was vehement now. "But I do know that whatever it is, it is not going to be
human."

She looked at him while her mind processed the information.  Then something
inside her smiled bitterly.  Well, at least he seemed to think that he was
human now, she thought.

She finally looked down. "What is going to happen?"

He sighed brokenly. "I do not know.  For now-"  The Chosen sighed, extending
his hand toward the sword and pulling it back when it hummed warningly. "I do
not know.  You should tell the other scouts."

Amy looked around in the gloominess and saw another shape in the darkness.
Needing something to distract her, she moved toward it.

It was another stand, she saw without surprise.  This one held a gray mace.
The blue scout recognized it with a gasp.  It was the Knight's mace.

"I was almost certain that you had this."

"I could not very well leave it for the police."  He shrugged, then motioned
for her to watch and grasped the mace in one hand, lifting the hefty weapon
easily. "As you can see," he said with a slight smile, "I don't have the same
problem with all weapons."

She nodded, then continued on into the darkness, walking slowly while her mind
whirled.

"What about this?"  She whispered, looking at the next stand.

They were gauntlets.

Not the metal gloves of old, nothing like the jointed, movement-hampering
manacles that knights had once worn.  These seemed to be made out of a whole
piece of metal, with facets of steel reflecting cold light.  They looked almost
crystalline as they pointed up into the air, grasping for something with sharp,
lethal edges.  And though they had no joints to allow for movement, somehow Amy
knew that they would flow around a person's hand like liquid, adjusting to
every move.

And she knew in the depth of her mind that the edges would remain sharp and
lethal throughout.

Nakiad moved forward into her line of sight, toward the gauntlets, and her eyes
widened when she saw the pain flickering in his eyes.  For a moment, his face
twisted.

The expression vanished when he looked back toward her. "This," he whispered
slowly, "is a potent tool indeed.  Over five hundred years, I have had these,
ever since the previous owner died.  He had been bent on destroying the world,
and I had been forced to stop him."  

Nakiad's voice was still a whisper, and flickers of black flame burned behind
his eyes. "They are one of the few things remaining from the Silver Millennium,
and the one who had discovered them had known little their power.  He paid
the price."  The Chosen paused for long seconds. "If steel could carry karma,
then these would be the last thing one would wish to have."

Amy nodded, looking at the strange weapons.  Somehow, she knew that he was
telling the truth.  The lethal facets of metal almost radiated danger and
hatred.  As Nakiad reached out to touch one of the edges, she noticed the
strange hue of the metal.  "Are they maraki?"  She noticed that he did not put
them on.

He sighed, pulling his hand back.  "No.  But they are magic, and their strength
is great.  They also focus power like very little else can.  With them-" his
eyes flickered toward the gloves once more, then he seemed to drag his glance
away.  "With them, I could focus my attacking powers to the same extent as with
the staff."

Amy looked at the two gauntlets with even greater respect. "Then why do you not
use them?"

The pain behind his eyes flickered again, then the dark flames were gone,
replaced by calmness once more. "Dark memories," he answered in a whisper.

Amy felt the chill in her spine, and decided that for once, her curiosity could
not win over her fears.  Slowly, she continued through the darkness, forcing
herself away from the weapons.  

Another glass case was there.  It held a gray cloak that looked millennia old.
Amy needed no reminder of the origin of it.  It was the Dark Lord's cloak, the
clothes Nakiad had returned in after the final battle with the Shadow.   She
continued into the black.  For a few moments, nothing was there, then another
shape loomed.  It was a cabinet, and it extended far into the darkness.

She walked around it, frowning. "What is in here?"

His voice was hollow, as it had been through the suit, when they had been in
the biological storage room. "It is a reminder."

She looked at him sharply, tired of all the games he seemed to be playing.

He sighed. "They are weapons that would have killed me if not for my healing
powers.  At least, all the ones I was able to retrieve.  I keep it around  a
reminder of my mortality, and of the closeness of death."

Amy fought the heaviness in his voice as she looked at the cabinet.  The first
shelf held a gun and several misshapen bullets under glass.  Slowly, she
continued walking, past more guns, swords, axes, every possible weapon from all
times.  Most of the edges were broken, many of the bullets were deformed.  And
all of them had a sinister feeling about them which made the blue scout
shiver.

She turned away, and for once her curiosity made no protest.  There was
probably an incredible number of fascinating things in the darkness, but she
realized that for once, she just did not want to know.  Certainly not this day,
not after everything that had happened.  She swallowed, remembering how
reluctant he had been to show her his secrets.  And he had been right, she
thought in the darkness.  They were not ready.  He was too old, he had seen too
much, had felt too much pain.

And the scouts were too young.

Amy stared into the darkness, mentally fighting to release the weight on her
heart.

Nakiad seemed to feel her thoughts.  "Perhaps you should go," he suggested, his
voice gentle and old. "Your mom is home I believe, and she will be worried."

"Yes," Amy sighed slowly, "yes, I should."  She started to turn.

The Chosen looked up for a moment. "The others went in Darian's car, so you can
take the van.  The computer will drive, if you wish."

"Yes, thank you."  She walked toward where she remembered the lift to be, and
Nakiad did not follow.

Thankfully, Amy surrendered to the silence of the lift as it moved up.

She turned to the door, closing her eyes.  Not for the first time, she wondered
what exactly her feelings toward Nakiad were.  She searched her heart for the
same thing she felt toward Greg, but the fire was not there.  She and the
Chosen were friends.  Good friends, she generally thought.

But he still scared her at times.

She sighed as the lift opened, inside the house proper.  As she got into the
van and allowed the computer take over the driving, she remembered what Nakiad
had said about telling the others.  She took out the communicator.



Nakiad stared for a while at the lift, then turned. "She is gone," he said
calmly.

Artemis appeared easily out of the darkness. "Well, now she knows.  And soon
the other scouts will, too."

Nakiad sighed. "About time, I suppose.  I do not like keeping my past from
them, I still do not.  But some things-"  The Chosen hesitated. "Perhaps I fear
to tell because then I will have to remember as well."

The white cat waked over to him. "Do you fear to tell me for the same
reason?"

"They are so young," Nakiad whispered, ignoring the question.

"Yes," Artemis said, "but they fight well.  The test worked."

"Yes," Nakiad agreed. "I did not change when Mina attacked us, nor when I was
fighting the scouts.  But for how long-"

Artemis frowned around the crescent moon on his forehead. "I thought you were
the one who believed in not fighting fate?"

"I believe in not believing in fate.  Still, I do not wish the darkness to take
me, even as I feel the need to fight."

The white cat sighed. "Have you made any progress in finding who your attacker
is?"

"No."  Nakiad did not seem to even be listening.

"I thought you had told me that your network was extensive."

"It is.  I have only had one week."

"True," the guardian sighed. "It seems longer than that."  For a while, Artemis
remained silent, then he looked up. "One more thing, about your computer.
First, it stopped you when you changed to darkness the first time.  And you
said that it had been acting strangely lately.  Is it possible that Amy is on
to something?"

Nakiad shrugged. "I have taken some steps to make sure that that is not
happening, but-" he sighed. "You know that fundamentally I'm a warrior, not a
scientist.  I know much, but I lack the same problem solving ability that Amy
has.  After a thousand years, I have learned a lot, and the combination of
modern and Silver Millennium technology can create incredible results.  But
when I made the computer I relied heavily on the information provided by
Guardian, and although now Guardian is part of me-"  He paused, his voice
tired. "In the end, I do not know enough about what I have created to know how
easily it could be controlled. I know a lot about the interface, but the
primary core, what creates all the levels for my practice battles-" He sighed.
"I know not."

Artemis sighed. "You admit what you do not know."

"Why would I not?"

The white cat sighed, slowly, deliberately. "You are a lot smarter than you
know, Chosen."

Nakiad looked at the cat gratefully. "Thanks, Artemis," he answered. "You know
how much your opinion means to me."

The white cat grinned. "Yes, I do, and I guess that means you still think you
are stupid."

Nakiad smiled fully, a rarity for him.  His friendship with this small white
cat had lasted for two millennia and three lifetimes.  It was a closer bond
than most humans have ever known.

_	_	_


"Hi Greg."

"Hey Amy, I was just about to call you."  As usual, Greg's voice had a somber
note in it, because of his visions of the future.  Fate took its toll on
everyone who could see it.

The blue scout smiled. "You predicted that I would call?":

"No.  I was actually really about to call you."

"So it is a coincidence.  Great."

"Maybe not.  It wasn't going to be social.  I feel something-"

Am sighed.  She knew what he was going to tell her, but he was already
continuing, oblivious of her thoughts. 

"I've told you before that my predictions are not always particularly clear,
nor even entirely accurate.  It all depends on how you interpret them.  Like
all predictions such as these, the very actions which people may take to avoid
the future may bring that future about."

Amy smiled sadly. "You have read far too many Greek myths.  Just tell me what
you saw."

She could feel him nod, even at the other end of the phone. "Something bad is
going to happen, something evil.  And the worst part is that it is all planned
by someone, all specifically made out with each possible direction outlined.
But-"

"But what?"

"I do not know.  The whole thing is incredibly vague, much more so than usual.
It is like trying to make things out in this incredibly dark mist-" Amy
shivered, reminded of the darkness in Nakiad's room, "-and I can not see any of
it.  Amy, even my visions are usually clearer than that.  The only other time
something was this vague, and with this feeling of importance was almost
exactly one year ago."

"With the Chosen," the blue scout finished.

"I am afraid so."



Grandpa forced himself into a deeper level of meditation with a vengeance, but
he just would not get into it, his mind was too unbalanced with its thoughts.
No matter how much he tried, he could not stop thinking about Raye.  He knew
little of the so called karate classes she was taking, except that they were
somehow linked to her being a Sailor Scout.  He smiled to himself once more,
glad he had kept that secret from her at least.  Although it worried him that
she often came back with various minor injuries, he could also feel the
increase in her fighting ability and overall general balance.  Whoever was
teaching her was a better instructor than Grandpa was, the old priest forced
himself to admit.  And that training was good for her, that did not worry
him.

His visions did.  Almost as if time were repeating itself, the things that had
gone one with the fire a year before were back.  All the barely hidden
glimpses, morphing shadows deep in the flames returned, and danced gleefully
out of his comprehension.  But they were there, and they were linked to Raye
somehow, and they worried him.

He sighed, well aware of his granddaughter's fate, knowing that he could do
nothing to help her through whatever challenge lay ahead.  But he wished he
could.

Somewhere deep inside, a voice screamed not to let her go with her friends to
the mall the next day, but the voice went unheard and unheeded, silenced by a
thousand other concerns.

He was a priest, he knew what the world meant, the way it worked.

And he knew his granddaughter was a Sailor Scout.

_	_	_


"Hey there, kitty cat."

Luna did not flinch away, but did make room on Serena's window sill. "You never
change, Artemis, do you?"

The white cat did not reply.  If he had, it would be losing a sort of game they
had developed long ago, when Luna had still been young, in the Silver 
Millennium. Once more, Artemis wondered just how much of their past 
they were missing.

The black cat frowned, looking at her partner. "What is it?"

"Life," Artemis answered with a sigh.


_	_	_



New hope comes into most hearts with the rising of the sun.  People get up, get
on with their lives, begin anew.  And business blooms in the light of the day.
Firms open for their employees, people build and design technology for the
future.  Stores and malls allow people inside, welcoming their business.

Not even the Chosen felt the invisible darkness that hung around the day.


_	_	_



Nakiad did not flinch away from the noise, he had been trained too well for
that.  But he did go down marginally in his stance, a portion of his mind
wishing for familiar clothes.  He continued mostly on automatic, listening to
the girls' laughter and replying if needed, smiling when it was appropriate.
But an instinct inside him knew that something was wrong.  He swept out with
his mind, feeling for any hostility, but the clamor of people was making it
difficult.  There was hostility, naturally, and anger, and upset, every emotion
ranging from hatred to adoration, but none of it seemed to be directed at their
group.  And so, not finding anything hostile, he relaxed slightly, telling
himself that the feeling was just his dislike of shopping, and the feeling of
his strange clothes.

Even if he had continued sweeping constantly for hostility against the group,
he would have found nothing, for there was none.  After a millennium of
training, after eons of experience, the Chosen had ignored one crucial fact
that any fighter should remember.

A person does not have to hate you to do you harm.



The mall was roughly rectangular in shape, with four stories of people
advertising their products as loudly as they could.  In the middle of the
rectangle, as in many malls, there was a large open space from the ground to
the glass-covered ceiling.  People on the other floors looked at this space
from balconies, staring at the shoppers below and resting until the bying urge
took hold of them once more.

There was no particular reason for a part of the fourth floor being largely
deserted on that day.  But serious shopaholics take their time to work up from
the lower levels of such a mall to the upper levels, and it was too early in
the morning for the crowd to be on the top floor.  And the last store entrance
was some distance in toward the center of the mall, so the very corner of the
fourth floor was empty.  And perfect for Norge Sicar.

He sat down on the bench that stood there, and half closed his eyes, blending
into the environment.  To anyone else, he would seem to be a shopper tired from
walking, not unusual even early in the day.  In the morning chill, the gloves
would go unnoticed, and the slightly bulky jacket kept bulges well hidden.

His eyes did not stare at any particular spot, but their circles concentrated
on one point in the very middle of the mall, where many people milled as if
confused.  If his information was correct, as he had been assured it was, they
would show up there sooner or later.  If the information was incorrect he got
paid anyway, but he was diligent enough so that he kept his attention
focused.

He had that sort of job.



"Having fun?"  Mina asked brightly, depositing yet another bag in his arm.

Nakiad groaned theatrically, and thanked his genes and centuries of training
for the ability to carry weights for a long time without tiring.  They were in
the approximate center of the mall, close to a large fountain.



They were there.  Norge did not get up from his seat, but one hand moved inside
the heavy coat, grasping the object within.  His eye, like a camera, focused in
to the expected party.  Five foolish giggling girls and a man, all dressed in
an ordinary fashion, all oblivious to his presence.

His eyes focused on the man.



Nakiad frowned, suddenly aware that he was being examined by someone.  He felt
outward with his mind, but the crowd around them distracted him, and Mina was
saying something.  He still felt no hostility, and the attention vanished a
moment later.



Sicar wondered if he had imagined the man growing alert when being examined,
but put that off to normal human awareness of being watched.  Easily, he
shifted his attention.

The contract was a strange one, he had to admit, especially since he was not
supposed to carry out his job as he understood it.  But the pay was incredible
to say the least, and he was already considering retiring after he got the
other half of the money.

His eyes finished focusing with camera-like precision, and he got up smoothly,
without hurrying.  The hand grasping the custom-made silenced gun came out of
the jacket, the other arm opening the coat slightly to disguise the weapon
slightly from anyone close by.  He aimed.



Nakiad looked up, suddenly feeling something wrong, and his eyes met Raye's.
But the enemy was a professional, completely detached, and the absence of any
animosity toward them confused him for a split moment more.



A red dot appeared on Nakiad's chest, then moved swiftly to one side, and his
eyes widened as he saw it on someone else.

On Mina.

The silenced puff of the gun should have been inaudible at this distance.

Nakiad felt it echo through him as if it were the blast of a cannon.  As if in
a dream, he turned.



Norge twisted away swiftly, the gun suddenly covered by a paper bag.  In the
next heartbeat, the bag was in the trash can next to the bench, then the pair
of gloves followed.  Only a second had passed since he had squeezed the
trigger.



Raye blinked at the red dot that had appeared on Mina's chest, then opened her
mouth to yell out a warning, modern movies having made her well aware of laser
targeting.  One corner of her eye caught Nakiad already in motion, his reflexes
faster than hers.

The dot suddenly widened into a red patch and Mina started collapsing
backward, never having screamed.  Raye did not remember what happened next, did
not know if she had screamed herself.

"Mina!"  Nakiad was not yelling, but his voice was as full of anguish as any
Raye had ever heard as he caught the orange scout on her way down, easily
supporting her weight.  The priestess wondered why she was staring at the
shopping bags the Chosen had dropped, her mind unable to face her friend.

Nakiad bent toward the orange scout's face. "Mina."  He whispered with
anguish.

Then he flickered, and was black, immersed in shadows.



Raye caught Mina as he turned, letting her go, and he got up suddenly, facing
one side of the mall.  Raye followed his gaze, feeling the other scouts begin
to react, come to her aid, and the crowd around them was starting into motion,
but Raye's eyes were focused on the same place as the Chosen's.

There was nothing there, merely a fourth story balcony, a bench, and a waste
basket.

Nakiad shrieked and one hand lanced out, covered with darkness.  The air
shimmered.

And the edge of the balcony exploded into a white hail of glass and parquet.



Norge Sicar gaped at the explosion, then back at the man.  He had blended in
with the crowd immediately, and had hurried to the point over the group, where
everyone else was standing, watching.  Around him, people suddenly sprang into
motion, mob instinct guiding them away from the destruction, and he started to
follow, but his eyes were attracted to the man once more.

The other was staring straight at him, and Norge made the mistake of meeting
that dark gaze.  All of a sudden, his footing vanished, he grasped for support
from the balcony, almost pitching over it to the floor, three stories down.
With an effort of will unknown to most, he forced himself to look away, then
backed quickly, away from the balcony, toward the rest of the crowd.



Nakiad saw nothing, heard nothing but the anger.  The burning hatred for the
other man flamed through his body, and his muscles responded immediately.
Without reason to guide him, without conscience, he was just a killing machine,
locked on to a target, a cunning and deadly animal.

One impossible jump carried him to the third floor balcony.  A crowd of people
scattered away from the incredible leap, one that should have been impossible
even for him.

A second jump, from the edge of that balcony, carried him to the top, and he
grasped the rail, swinging himself over it.  There, not twenty meters away, was
his target.

"Nakiad."  The cry echoed through his mind and he snarled at it, trying to
ignore it.



"Nakiad," Mina murmured once more in Raye's arms, and the red scout raised her
head to meet Amy's eyes.

The blue scout was typed busily on her computer, then shook her head. "It's
bad.  One of her lungs has been hit, and she's losing a lot of blood."  Raye
forced herself to ignore the red on her hands while Amy continued. "We need to
get her to a hospital, _now_."

"Nakiad," Mina whispered, moving slightly.

Serena was sobbing next to them, tears running down her cheeks as she looked
around. "Where is he?"

Raye forced herself to remain calm. "It happened again, the darkness."  Then
she felt the floor thump under her, and Mina's weight vanished.

Looking up, she found herself staring at Nakiad's face, contorted by a mixture
of emotions.  Shadows were flickering over him, moving over his frame, but he
seemed to be in control once more.

He held Mina up to his face. "I'm here. It's all right," he whispered
desperately.

She seemed to relax as Nakiad turned to one side, then Amy grabbed his
shoulder.

He turned, almost snarling, but Amy did not flinch back. "Nakiad.  Listen to
me.  The facilities at your house are good, but they are not made for treating
normal humans, nor scouts.  If this were you, you would merely heal, you did
not anticipate this situation.  And the hospital is closer."

He shivered, as if restraining himself, then nodded and turned into a blur of
black.

The glass doors exploded outward in front of him.

"Come on!"  Raye yelled to the other scouts, motioning for them to follow.  The
crowd parted before them as they left the scene.



He had to save her, that thought alone kept him sane, that she was still alive
and needed him.  Nakiad did not pant as he ran, not now.  His body was strained
to its limit, the road blurring under his feet, people moving aside frantically
at his charge.  At one point he leapt from the sidewalk to the pavement,
ignoring the cars as he outran them on the small road. Blurred the same way he
remembered dreams to be, so many centuries before, the hospital appeared in
front.

He concentrated against the sudden assault, against the blackness that was in
his mind.  The unbalance had hit at the same time as the bullet, the enemy
having slammed on Nakiad's mind hard.  Only crystal-hard concentration and the
need for Mina to live kept him from yielding to it.

He ran.

_	_	_


"Where is she?!"

The nurse jerked back from the onslaught, then examined the four girls
critically.  The older woman's hand jerked toward the button that would summon
a security guard, with good reason.  The girl who had made the demand had black
hair and flashing eyes.  But the nurse was not looking at the girl's face, but
at her hands, which were covered with blood.  Behind her was a girl with twin
blonde pigtails and a face red from crying.  To one side, standing protectively
over her was a girl with a brown ponytail and a look like she wanted to punch
something.  The only one who was at all presentable was the girl at the rear,
with blue hair and a calm, professional look that seemed to be hiding inner
turmoil.

The nurse's hand touched the button but did not press. "Who are you?"

The first girl answered angrily. "Look, our friend was taken here a few moments
ago."

"How do you know?"  The nurse sighed, she was very tired.  She had just been
called to replace the previous nurse who had been taken away.

The rear girl moved between the others to the front.  Her voice was calm.
"Look, our friend was shot at the mall.  Someone else brought her here, and we
know that this happened."  The girl gestured easily at the doors, which were
nonexistent.

The nurse pressed the button. "You mean that man who brought her in is with
you?"

"Sort of."  the girl looked confused. "We don't really know him."

The guard arrived. "Can I help you?"

"Yes," the nurse answered calmly, noting the way the girls turned to the guard
as if he were an enemy. "Can you show these girls to the waiting room with the
man, and tell the doctor that they are here."

"Certainly.  This way, please."  The girls moved off cautiously.



"No, you can not see her!"  The doctor sighed impatiently, doing his best to
stand up to the crazed man. "Look, if you want her to stay alive, you have to
let us take care of her.  She's in surgery now, and we think she will be all
right, if you only stay calm."

The man snarled, and the doctor wondered once more about the flickering shadows
that seemed to surround him.

The bursting in of the five girls served as a distraction, as the man turned.



The doctor sighed. "Who are you?"

Fortunately for all concerned, two things happened.  The guard, who was behind
the girls walked in and the doctor relaxed slightly.  At the same time, Nakiad
also loosened, and the flickering of darkness over his features lessened
somewhat.

The guard turned to the doctor first. "Hey, doc, you will probably want to talk
to these girls.  They say they were with the other girl when she was shot."

The doctor whirled.  "Really?  OK, she's being prepped for surgery now, and one
of my colleagues is with her.  Do you know if she has any allergies?"

Amy started to speak but Raye beat her. "I don't know."

The blue scout frowned. "I do.  No, she doesn't.  Have you contacted her
parents yet?"

"No."  The doctor was obviously in a rush. "She didn't have any ID on her, and
he-" he glanced at Nakiad, "-was less than cooperative."

Lita extended Mina's purse. "Here, this belongs to her.  You should-"

The doctor snatched it out of her hand. "I know my job.  Brad?"  He extended it
to the guard, and the other took it and faded out of the door.  The doctor
looked back at Nakiad. "Do you know him?"

Raye stomped hard on Serena's foot as the blonde girl started to reply. "Not
exactly," the red scout replied. "They seemed to know each other when they met,
but we do not know him."

The doctor nodded, not really listening. "Just do what you can, and keep him
here, understand?"  Raye nodded. "I have to go."  He paused for a moment. "Did
she hit her head when she was shot?"

Lita answered, frowning. "I don't think so.  No, we caught her before she hit
the ground."

The doctor blinked. "Interesting."  But he did not seem to be particularly
fascinated as he swallowed, glanced at the clock, and vanished into an inner
room.

For several moments, everyone was still, then Amy moved out of the paralysis.
"Nakiad?"  She asked him gently. "How are you doing?"

He grasped his head in both hands, as if trying to hold it together.  His voice
was rough and the words came out short, choppy. "It's in here- black, dark.
Trying to get out.  I don't know."  The flickering began to intensify.

Serena walked past them to the inner door. "Guys, what's going to happen to
Mina?"  She was clutching the locket containing her crystal tightly.

Lita suddenly looked up. "Say, what about the crystal?  Serena, your healing
powers!"

Everyone in the room looked toward the stunned scout as her pigtails bobbed
once and one hand went up to her mouth. "Oh.  I never thought of that."

She pushed against the door and squealed slightly as someone grasped her wrist.
Another nurse pushed her away from the entrance.

"I'm sorry, you can't go in there now."  The harsh male voice of the nurse
allowed no contradiction, and Amy grasped at both of Nakiad's arms to keep him
from moving.

"I'm sorry," Raye began calmly, "but could you tell me what is going on?"

The man sighed. "Look, I am not sure if I should be telling you."

"Please?"

The nurse relented. "The bullet is lodged at the base of one of her lungs, and
the doctor has to get it out if she is to survive.  However-" he raised both
hands, "-this is not yet life threatening, and she is in surgery now.  What no
one can understand is why she is in a coma.  Do you remember if she had hit her
head at some point?"

Raye frowned. "No, we said we didn't already.  Why?"

The nurse shrugged. "We just don't see any reason for her being in a coma right
now, unless it is shock.  Do you know if she was vulnerable to fainting,
anything like that?"

Lita smiled bitterly. "She had more guts than most of the people I know."

The nurse nodded. "All right.  Look, you can not go in there.  But Doctor
Straus is one of our best surgeons, he will get her through this."  He glanced
at his watch. "It should not be long now."



The clock on the wall moved with agonizing slowness and Amy's glances at
Nakiad's standing form became more and more frequent and more concerned.
Finally, she turned toward the other scouts, dropping her voice as much as
possible. "Guys, I am not sure how long Nakiad can stay like this.  The
flickering is growing darker and darker."

His voice interrupted her and the scouts jerked back, surprised by the sheer
vehemence of it. "I not-" he drew in ragged breaths. "I do not know either.
It's too powerful."  He clutched at his head with both hands once more.
"Whoever was destabilizing the balance before is putting on the full pressure
now, and with the shock-" he paused. Then he looked up, and his voice was heavy
and certain. "If Mina does not make it, I won't either."

Raye swallowed. "You have to hold it together."

His reply was almost a scream. "I'm trying!  Do you think I want to become that
thing?"  He shuddered. "It's just so-  I can't."  For a full second he remained
black, and the scouts were sure he was going to go, then he glimmered and
turned normal once more.

The inner door opened, and the doctor, doctor Straus, Amy reminder herself,
came out.  He was peeling off a pair of transparent gloves, but his face was
worried.

Amy jerked forward, but the doctor did not get out of her way.  He sighed. "You
can't see her yet.  Look, the good news is that I got the bullet out of her
lung, and patched her up.  As far as that goes, she would be fine within a
month or so."

Amy swallowed. "But?"

"But she is still in the coma."

Nakiad jerked forward, shoving Amy aside. "When is she going to be out of
it?"

The doctor jerked away from the animal tones. "Look, I still don't know who you
are, and what your relation to her is.  So-"

Nakiad snarled and leapt forward, changing into blackness for a second, then
into clearness once more, but his features were screwed into anger.  He grasped
the white-clad man with one hand, jerking him up by the lapels of his coat.
Thrusting his face into the doctor's, Nakiad snarled.

The man had a doctorate, but this was beyond him.  He swallowed hard, but his
voice was surprisingly strong. "Look, we don't even know _why_ she is in the
coma, and we just _do_ _not_  _know_!"  He landed on his feet when Nakiad
dropped him

The Chosen shivered, blackness washing over him, then started for the door.
The doctor, gathering all the courage he had, came in his way. 

Doctor Straus was surprisingly calm as he watched the wall approach his face.



The nurses scattered as the door blasted in, showering them with plastic
splinters.  Nakiad drew in ragged breaths, his features almost completely
black, but he was resisting with every piece of will he had.  For a long
moment, his dark eyes stared at Mina.

She was lying on a hospital bed, an IV needle running into one of her arms, the
clear plastic bag hanging to one side.  A bandage covered her midsection, but
her face was clean, unmarred.  The last of the Chosen shuddered, looking at
that perfect face.

"Mina."  It came out as a whisper.  He closed his eyes, sending every mental
fiber he had at her, trying to wake her.  Then he snarled as he met darkness, a
black band that surrounded Mina's mind, an fog impossible to penetrate.

The pain rose in his throat, tore through his mind. "MINA!"  He howled her name
out to the world.

Then, deliberately, he let himself relax.

The black tornado within him surged and rallied, grasping at him.  There was no
pain, he was not resisting any more.  Strained beyond any human endurance, he
let the darkness take him.

With an animal shriek, he sprang into motion.



People on the sidewalk scattered as the wall of the second floor of the
hospital shattered into dust, and a midnight black shape erupted from the
debris.  The shape slammed down on a car parked below, bending the roof, then
turned into a black blur.

Above, Amy stared breathlessly at the torn hole in the wall.

"My god," she whispered quietly.

The other two scouts merely stared.

.
.
.
.
.
.
Thus ends Lure, part one of volume two of Sailor Moon: Shades of Light and
Darkness.


To be continued..............


Send all comments/questions/flames to dnk@cmu.edu

Please visit the SLD web site at http://sld.home.ml.org for
information on the SLD universe and the fanfics in it.

For more information, see the readme file.

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