First of all, don't blame me for this one.  I may have wrote it, but the
idea came from Ragabash, a friend of mine here at A&M.  We were talking
about some things concerning Evangelion.... when this idea came up.  

Enjoi!


Misato Katsuragi looked at the screen in the NERV headquarters, her
stomach twisted in knots.  The children under her command - her children
- were facing down an Angel... and failing miserably.  Rei's unit had
been literally ripped in two, and Shinji's had an arm demolished.  Asuka
was fighting in almost berserker fashion, but the toll of the battle was
wearing on her, too.  Soon, the third of the Evas would fall, leaving
nothing left... save Third Impact.  

Was it all for nothing?  Was fifteen years of preparation, followed by
battle after battle, the final testament to humanity's will?  Perhaps,
in time, some visiting beings would see the ruins of cities, and know
that humanity had existed - the only mark left after the heat of flames
and crash of waves.  

*no battle is for nothing*  

She blinked, and looked to the bridge crew.  None of them had said it;
most were either frantically trying to get the EVAs out of the mess, or,
like her, stared dumbfounded at the screen.  Who had said it, then?  

*the time of struggle has begun again*  

Misato looked out at the battle once more.  For the first time, it
seemed... well... wrong to her.  The mechanical monstrosities they had
worked so hard to create _couldn't_ contain the invaders forever; the
world needed a magic far beyond this world to combat the angels.  

A magic of another time, another place...

*good, my child... you remember after all*  

She held a hand to her forehead and grimaced, as memories flooded back
to her.  How she had fought these demons before Second Impact, and their
final loss in the Arctic.  How she felt the pain of defeat, and the
horror and guilt that came with survival.  Then, other things came to
her... the twisting of her memories, as SEELE made her their toy to play
with.

No more.  She'd seen the world destroyed once; she'd be DAMNED if she
let it happen again.  

She looked down, at the object formed in her hand from nothing, and
marveled at its brightness.  In its sparkle, she saw a life long
forgotten, and friends waiting to be reborn.  She raised the item to the
air and shouted words of power, a promise of fire and blood and magic.

The black dye in her hair faded away, to be replaced by her natural
golden strands.  She could feel the tendrils of energy around her,
reshaping her clothes, reshaping HER, making her into the warrior she
was meant to be, the warrior she was born to be.  The light around her
faded, leaving her standing in front of a wide-eyed crew.  

Sailor Moon was back.  And this time, there was hell to pay.  

-- Nick