Rex Nemorensis - the FFML is dead, long live the FFML...

Well, here I am. Who missed me? ^_~

First of all, this fic may look a bit familiar to some of you. That's
because it's the only chapter of DC that I was able to crank out in the
months that the FFML was down. Some of you got it from me personally, and a
few of you may have seen it haunting my webpage 
(over at http://dataraven_659.tripod.com/roninsummer.html) with all the
other parts of Ronin Summer. I'm posting it to the FFML in the hopes it will
reach anybody following my little tale who may not have read it yet. Fret
not, I am hard at work on Chapter 15, and hope to be done early next week. 

But enough about me. On with the story - assuming that the new FFML still
strips text attachments, that is...





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-- Attached file included as plaintext by Listar --
-- File: Crusade14.txt

OBLIGATORY LEGAL DISCLAIMER : Some of these guys aren't mine. The 
Sailor Senshi belong to DIC and Kodansha, while the Yoroiden are owned
by Sunrise and Graz Entertainment. Okay? So don't bother suing me. I'm 
a student. 

                   RONIN SUMMER VI : DARK CRUSADE

         A Sailor Moon / Yoroiden Samurai Troopers cross-over

             by Morgan Hudson (dataraven_659@excite.com)

Chapter Fourteen : Wolf Trap

	The pale glow of the full moon filtered softly down through 
the thick canopy of leaves and pine needles that hung over the forest 
in a vast labyrinth of branches and foliage. Shifting and dancing 
like light through water, the patterns waved and floated over the 
carpet of fallen leaves, decaying wood, and brush that lay upon the 
forest floor like a thick carpet. Through this pale, inconstant gloom  
a towering, fearsome figure moved, slipping from shadow to shadow. 
Although clad from head to toe in armour, the man made was as silent 
as the night breeze - only the pained, ragged sound of his breath 
impled that he was anything but a shadow himself as he loped through 
the underbrush with instinctive, almost lazy, grace. 

	He was doubled over at the waist, his fingers splayed and 
nearly brushing the earth with each step he took. On several occasions 
he stopped, dropping into a crouch and turning his helmeted head from 
one side to the other as he scanned the terrain. Behind the armoured 
mask of crimson enamel that covered his face, a pair of hard green 
eyes all but glowed in the dim light as he slowly and smoothly slid 
the six-foot-long sabre he had been carrying into the golden sheath 
that lay across his shoulders. The soft click of the no dachi's guard 
pressing against the edge of its scabbard seemed to echo throughout 
the forest forever, bouncing from tree to tree before settling down. 

	Anubis, Masho of Darkness, clutched his stomach with one arm 
and rested the other on the ground, the trio of steel blades that 
ended his gauntlet digging into the forest litter as he clenched his 
teeth and groaned softly. Closing his eyes, the man lowered his head 
and bit his bottom lip until blood flowed freely from his mouth, 
breathing quickly and erratically through his nose. He remained in that
pose for several minutes, before finally rising back to his feet. 
Tossing back the red satin cape he wore, the Masho glanced down at his 
hand and narrowed his eyes slightly. Blood coated his entire forearm, 
gleaming dark and wetly against the brighter crimson of his armour 
plate. The same wet darkness seeped unobtrusively from between the 
metal plates that covered his right side and abdomen, and he wisely 
draped his cape back over that shoulder before wiping his mouth with 
his fingers and straightening his spine. No weakness, he reminded 
himself. He could show no weakness. Shoulders squared and chin high, 
the Wolf Masho strode between an old, lightning-scarred oak and two 
elms which had sprouted too closely to each other and fused together 
as they grew. 

**********

	Kayura looked up as the armoured samurai pushed his way through
a small path of briars, stepping regally out into the clearing next to 
the old oak she was leaning against. Placing her elbow on a raised 
knee, the raven-haired young woman rested her head against her hand 
and looked over at the man expectantly. He scanned the small area for 
a moment before his eyes finally landed on her. Turning slightly, he 
dropped to one knee and bowed his head, cape falling forward to cloak 
his entire body as he genuflected. 

	"My Empress," he said in that warm, smoky voice that always 
made her spine shiver, "your loyal servant returns to your side."

	"Your Empress welcomes you, Anubis of the Masho," Kayura said 
with as regal a tone as she could manage while grinning. "You come 
most timely upon your hour. How fared you?" 

	Sitting nearby, Haruka Ten'ou leaned over and whispered into 
the ear of her partner, Michiru Kaioh. "Why is she talking like that? 
She usually doesn't act so stuck up..."

	"It's Uncle Kujuurou," Setsuna Meioh explained from where 
she stood in the lower branches of a towering pine tree. "He doesn't 
feel properly ruled if she's too informal during official reports. 
Poor dear pouts for days."

	Refusing to admit he had heard them, Anubis scowled slightly 
and glared at the grass beneath him. The grass promptly frosted over 
and died. "I fared as best as I could, Empress. Our enemy still lurks 
in this area, and, I am sure, search for us even now. I took it upon 
myself to slow their search as best I could, and hopefully misdirect 
them." 

	Kayura nodded calmly, her eyes flashing with interest. "Really?
And what did you do, my Masho?" 

	"I selected a small party of scouts and killed them. With luck,
whoever is leading this search will assume that they were destroyed 
for being too close to us. If such is the case, they will focus their 
search on an area thirty miles to the south of us, and head in the 
wrong direction." Anubis began to shrug, then stopped himself. "By the 
time they learn their error, we could have several days' headstart." 

	"Which would be fine, if we had the slightest idea where to 
go," Kayura sighed expressively, then looked back at the armoured man 
bowing to her. "Anubis," she asked curiously, "how did your battle 
with this search party fare? Were you injured?" 

	"I am perfectly able to serve, My Empress," Anubis said 
gruffly, still staring at the ground. The small bare patch of earth was
beginning to show signs of frost, as well. 

	"Then why," Kayura asked, in the same innocently inquisitive 
tone, "is there blood leaking out from under your helmet?" 

	The Wolf Masho reached up and pressed his fingers under the 
ridge of his helm's visor, staring at his hand as he pulled the digits 
free. Sure enough, they were covered with the same crimson fluid. "A 
mere scratch," he said quickly. "I barely even recall the injury. It 
is nothing to worry yourself over, My Empress, though you honour me 
with your concern." 

	"What about Hotaru?" Haruka suddenly interjected, raking back 
her short mop of blonde hair with one hand as she pushed herself off 
of the ground and rose to her feet. "Why are you two sitting there 
talking about all of this stuff when it doesn't matter? Where the 
hell is our KID?" 

	Anubis glanced over his shoulder at the tall, slender woman, 
and his usually sharp gaze softened a little bit. "I'm sorry," he said 
simply. "I searched every inch of that riverbank, but there was no 
sign of her. No sign of Rajura, either. I have no idea where they 
could have gone, or how they could have gotten there without leaving 
some kind of trail. It was as if they had both grown wings and flown 
away," Hanging his head, the Wolf Masho sighed gently.  "I am truly 
sorry, Sailor Uranus."

	"A lot of good that does Hotaru," Haruka shot back angrily. "I 
thought you were supposed to be some kind of super-hunter, or 
something. 'The best tracker in the Dynasty', right? How the hell did 
you get that title, if you can't even find one little girl in a forest?
Didn't you have any COMPETITION?" 

	"Haruka," Michiru said quickly, thrusting herself in front of 
the taller woman and placing her hands on her partner's shoulders, "you
need to calm down! You're not helping-"

	"Neither is HE!" Haruka yelled, pointing at the Wolf Masho as 
she turned to glare up at the emerald-haired Sailor Pluto. "Setsuna, 
you told me we should trust this guy. You said he could find Hotaru, 
and he didn't! Now, I don't care what you do, but I say if Anubis can't
help, then I'll look for her myself!" Grabbing her black jacket, Haruka
tossed it over one shoulder and walked away. 

	"I'd better go talk some sense into her," Michiru explained 
apologetically, brushing a few stray pine needles from the pleated 
skirt of her school uniform and giving a self-effacing shrug before 
heading after Haruka. 

	"Hold a moment, Sailor Neptune," Anubis said, rising to his 
feet and turning to look down at Kayura. "My Empress, may I have your 
leave?" 

	"But of course, Anu-kun. I'd never dream of keeping you." 

	The Masho of Darkness nodded curtly and glanced over at Michiru
as she waited patiently at the edge of the small clearing. "I will go 
with you," he said in a gruff tone. "Time is of the essence."

**********
	
	It was nearly time. 

	With a soft growl, the man reached out and gently ran his hands
over the various instruments spread before him on the coarse wooden 
table. Tools, to be sure, but more than that. They were the rungs on 
the ladder that would lift him from the despair he had been plunged 
into, and carry him back to where he belonged. They were the orchestra
he would conduct through his sonata of destruction. The brushes that 
would soon bring forth his art in all its terrible glory. 

	They were the brushes, and Anubis of the Masho would be his 
canvas. He had to select each one carefully, choosing the precise 
range and composition that would let his masterpiece take life. A 
single flute, badly timed or poorly tuned, could ruin a masterpiece. 
And that would not happen; he wouldn't LET it! He'd get his hands on 
that vile cur and bash, and rip, and tear until- 

	Thraw took a deep breath, inhaling through his nose and 
spreading his arms wide as he closed his eyes. It was vital that he not
be clouded by his rage: the time for that would come later. No matter 
how the thought of that mangy dog of a man made his blood boil, he 
had to maintain control. Think in stages. Forcing his heartbeat to 
slow back down, he let his breath leak slowly through his pursed lips, 
hissing as his eyes opened. 

	Stage one: he would defeat Anubis. Crush the Wolf Masho like 
the pathetic bug that miserable whelp was, and wash the stain from his 
own honour for all time. Stage two: capture the empress, and present 
her to Mother, earning back the privilege of serving in her glorious 
presence.

	Finally, and most importantly, he would take steps to ensure 
that privilege could never be lost again. Thraw smiled grimly as he 
hefted a massive sledgehammer with one hand and spun it like a 
cheerleader's baton. And if his dear brother Pedri wound up needing to 
be... coerced... a little, that was just fine with him. 

	"Oh, my," a silky voice purred, drifting from the shadows of 
his dimly-lit room, "look how big and strong you've gotten." 
	
	The voice's owner slid forward, allowing the light of his 
burning forge to glide over her form. Physically, she was dwarfed by 
her massive brother, a mere five feet tall compared to his seven, and 
deceptively slim while Thraw was gifted with the kind of physique that 
most professional bodybuilders would kill for. Her smile was 
suspiciously innocent, and sent chills down his spine. A pair of 
golden eyes burned into him, making him feel like a mouse trapped under
the paw of a bored cat. Long purple hair had been placed into pigtails,
tied on either side of her head with small golden bows. The pleated 
skirt she was wearing was several inches too short to even be called 
"indecent", and her white sweater was at least three sizes smaller 
than could possibly be comfortable. 

	"Tuls?" he asked, trying to hide his trembling. "Didn't we 
seal you in your room a few decades ago? I'm sure I laid the concrete
myself..."

	His sister laughed throatily, arching her head back and 
stretching her arms above her head. "I got some time off," she said 
with her usual wicked smile, "for good behaviour."

	"Good behaviour?" Thraw snorted nervously as he backed away 
from the advancing Tuls. "YOU?" 

	"Uh-huh." She nodded vigorously. "I promised up, down, and 
sideways that I was going to be a GOOD little girl." She smiled 
innocently again, and Thraw realised that it was somehow more 
disturbing than her normal, predatory smile. "Wanna see how good I am, 
Brother Thraw? I've been practising really hard..."

	"Leave me alone, you psychopath!" Thraw quickly dragged his 
anvil between them, a bit disappointed at how his voice had cracked. 
"Just stay the hell over there! Or better yet, LEAVE!" 

	Tuls held her hands behind her back, pouting expressively as 
she hung her head in mock shame. "Aww," she complained, "nobody wants 
to play with me! Well, don't you worry, Thraw baby - I know how I can 
fix that. Remember, hon?" Looking up at him through her bangs, the 
girl began advancing again. "Of course, the problem with fixing things 
is that sometimes you have to break them first..." 

	Thraw felt his broad back press against the coarse stone walls,
and slid down to cower in the corner of his room, forcing himself to 
breathe as his little sister loomed over him. With a start, he suddenly
remembered the sledgehammer he was holding, and hurled it at her. The 
heavy sledge hurtled through the air like a guided missile, passing 
through Tuls' head without even slowing down before bouncing off the 
far wall and clattering to the floor. 

	Tuls blinked. "Ooh," she moaned, closing her eyes as she rubbed
the bridge of her nose, "now why did you have to go and do THAT, you 
big spoilsport?" Staggering slightly, the violet-haired woman sat on 
the edge of his anvil. "You know that phasing makes me-" 

	Lunging off of the floor, Thraw darted forward and punched his 
sister in the stomach. As she doubled over, he slid on the brass 
knuckles that had been lying on the nearby table and slammed them 
into her face. "Stay BACK!" he roared, and grabbed a short sword with 
his empty hand. "Stay back, you blasted nymph, or so help me, I'll..."

	With a soft chuckle, Tuls looked up at Thraw as he pointed the 
blade at her face. The force of his blow had knocked her onto her back,
and she lay sprawled across the flat iron surface of the anvil. Blood 
slowly began to trickle from her mouth, then stopped and reversed, 
crawling back in as her split lip flowed back together. "My," she 
sighed regretfully, "I guess you wanted to play, after all. What a 
shame."

	"What?" Thraw's brow furrowed in confusion. 

	"Well," Tuls purred, playfully sliding her fingers along the 
edge of his sword, "Pedri sent me here to give you a job, and if I 
don't let you go, he might refuse to punish me for it later." 

	Thraw scowled. "You're not making any sense, Sister. Everybody 
knows that Holts is Pedri's little errand girl. Why would he send you?
And why send you here, to me? I am disowned. He would never send me 
anywhere: to do so would be to admit that I exist." 

	"Okay, babe, you're cute but you need to talk less. Nothing 
wrecks the mood like a guy who won't shut up and do his job. First of 
all, that adorable little Holts just got sent to deliver orders to our 
troops in the field. Vyne and Tytoung ARE the troops in the field, and 
if I knew where the ever-luscious Erdge was, believe me, I would NOT 
be here with you." 

	Thraw stepped back warily and slid his short sword into its 
scabbard, glaring at Tuls. He despised her -hell, he even FEARED her- 
but she was offering him a golden opportunity. There was really only 
one thing he could do.

	"Deliver my orders," he said gruffly. "I am yours to command."

	Tuls smiled wickedly again. "Now THAT," she said, with a 
strange light in her eyes, "was EXACTLY what I wanted to hear, babe..."

**********

	Anubis caught up to Haruka pretty quickly, all things 
considered. She had gone maybe thirty feet into the forest before 
collapsing alongside a gnarled and grizzled old maple tree, resting 
her forehead against the coarse bark of its trunk and burying her face 
in her hands. Turning to Michiru, the Wolf Masho lifted one hand and 
shook his head slightly. 

	"Stay back," he whispered softly. "She doesn't want you here."

	"What are you talking about?" Michiru whispered back angrily, 
craning her neck and trying to see over the taller man's shoulder. "How
do you know what Haruka wants?" 

	"I know," Anubis replied. "Trust me." 

	Michiru stared into the man's wild green eyes for a moment, 
then slowly nodded, the motion causing a ripple through her long 
seafoam-green hair. "All right," she said quietly. "But if you so 
much as look at her wrong, I'll show you levels of pain you can't 
even imagine."

	"You sound much like my Empress," the Masho noted with a 
crooked smile, and crossed the distance to where Haruka was crouched. 
Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that Michiru was still where he had 
left her, sitting next to a tree several feet away, and placed his 
hand on the blonde woman's shoulder. 

	"Why are you here?" the woman asked without lifting her head. 
"Go away."

	"You hide your injuries from those who rely on you," Anubis 
said softly. "It is most commendable." Slowly sinking to the ground 
next to her, the Wolf Masho tugged off his distinctive brown helmet 
with its tall, antelope-like horns of ebony and fearsome crimson mask, 
revealing the face of Kujuurou Sasaki. Dark hair flared in every 
direction, slicked with sweat and hanging around his head like a wild 
mane. A particularly thick forelock hung between his eyes, and nearly 
touched the angry red scar that stretched across his left cheek. He 
also, on this occasion, had a long gash running across his forehead, 
spilling blood down his face and encrusting his hair.

	"I'm not hiding anything," Haruka argued. "I'm perfectly fine."

	"Of course you are." Kujuurou chuckled ruefully and brushed 
his fingertips against his forehead. "People like you and I are always 
fine when someone bothers to ask us. We have more in common than you 
might think, Sailor Uranus."

	"You don't know that. You don't know anything about me."

	"Let me guess," Kujuurou said, scratching the back of his neck,
where the crimson material of his undergear armour was chafing the 
skin a bit. "You'll do whatever you're asked, won't you? Kill, steal, 
whatever you're told is for the greater good. You'll throw yourself 
into your missions wholeheartedly. You'll win, because you'd rather die
than fail. And you never complain to anybody, because they need you and
you know it. Because you know -and I know- that there are some things 
that are much greater than ourselves. Things that are worth sacrificing
for, and if you don't do it, someone you care for may have to do it in 
your place."

	"I'm not out of control," Haruka said, her voice muffled by 
her hands. "I'm fine. I can handle this on my own, okay? I don't need 
your help. Not yours, not anyone's."

	The Wolf Masho shook his head sadly, and grabbed one of 
Haruka's wrists with his hand. Tugging her hand away from her face, he 
pressed her fingers against his side and stared into the distance while
firmly holding her arm in place. Haruka slowly lowered her other hand 
and glanced over at the man as she felt the warm, sticky rush of blood 
pooling and trickling at her touch. 

	"Cannon fodder," he said gruffly, "are immeasurably harder to 
beat when not using a cannon." 

	The blonde Senshi wiped her eyes with her sleeve and stared 
down at the man's flank, where crimson rivulets were flowing between 
her fingers and trickling down towards her wrist. "Look," she said 
softly, "I'm no doctor, but I think this is serious. You're hurt bad. 
You need help." 

	"I'm not the only one." Kujuurou raised one eyebrow and 
gestured towards her face with his clawed gauntlet. "We may not be 
twins, Sailor Uranus, but we DO have a great deal in common. I've 
fought next to you, and against you, and I respect your ability. With 
a few more decades of training, I wouldn't be surprised if you became 
truly skilled. So, I'm going to be perfectly frank with you."

	"I'd appreciate it," Haruka said, swallowing thickly as she 
reclaimed her hand and wiped the blood off on a patch of grass. How 
long had he been walking around like that? At least all the way back 
to camp - had he said twenty, or thirty miles? And he respected HER 
ability? A man who could run thirty miles with serious injuries and 
act like it was no big deal? 

	"Right now, looking for your daughter would get you captured 
or killed; the search parties are too thick for you to avoid detection.
You have to trust that Rajura will keep the girl alive for a while, 
and do what you can to make sure you're still around to enjoy the 
reunion."

	Haruka shook her head adamantly. "I can't do that. For all we 
know, Rajura was the one who took Hotaru! I may not know exactly what 
that monster did to Setsuna before we met her, but I'm smart enough to 
figure out that it was pretty awful. What kind of parent would I be if 
I left my daughter in his clutches?" 

	"Rajura would only have taken the girl if he had some use for 
her. He won't harm a hair on her head until that use is up." The man 
grinned wolfishly and gave a dry chuckle. "He's too cold-blooded to 
hurt her out of anger or spite - or any other emotion, for that matter.
We're not sure he even HAS them, let alone acts on them." 

	"That doesn't really do much to make me feel better, Anubis." 

	"I said I'd be frank, not kind." The Wolf Masho's voice was 
utterly unapologetic, his gaze level and even as he looked over at the 
woman. "The most important thing to do right now is survive. It would 
be wisest for us to leave the forest entirely for now, go somewhere 
else until the search either dies down or moves on. We can come back 
after that and try to hunt down Rajura and Hotaru then. He's sure to 
be holed up somewhere until the danger passes, anyway." 

	"You sound like you've given this some thought," Haruka 
admitted resentfully. 

	Kujuurou nodded curtly. "I'm a hunter," he explained. "I know 
what I would do if the situation was reversed, and I know what I 
wouldn't want my prey doing. If we hide, they will probably be able to 
dig us up or smoke us out; our trail is too fresh to destroy 
effectively. There's too many of them for us to fight; it would be too 
easy for them to surround us. Even if we are stronger than most of 
their usual troops, enough would be able to overpower us." 

	"So when you can't hide, and you can't fight, you run," Haruka 
concluded grimly. "I wish it didn't, but it makes sense." 

	"We need supplies," Kujuurou continued, leaning his head back 
and staring into the upper branches of the tree. "Food, first of all, 
not to mention some new clothes. Setsuna and your friend only have 
high heels, and in this place that's almost begging a hole or stump to 
break one of their ankles. Kayura doesn't have any shoes at all. If 
they are tracking us, changing our footgear could give us an edge. 
Five people wearing sandals leave a much different trail than two 
people barefoot, one with shoes, and two more with high heels. New 
clothes would also let us avoid getting identified visually: being the 
only humans in the entire dimension makes us pretty easy to pick out 
of a crowd."

	"And, if we're going on a shopping trip," Haruka made sure to 
point out, "we may as well get some first-aid equipment. There's no 
reason you should be walking around wounded if you don't have to." She 
smiled weakly. "So, are we going to order this over the phone, or 
something?" 

	Kujuurou rubbed his chin thoughtfully and stared at his feet 
for a minute or two. "When we first arrived here," he said slowly, "I 
recall Sailor Lightstorm saying something to me about the nearby town 
being wiped out by some of Pedri's army. I'm not as familiar with this 
place as Rajura or Naaza might be, but I think the only town close to 
the castle was Shimekiri, a small village I visited once when I was 
meeting Shin Mouri and the Inner Senshi to... Well, that's besides the 
point. If the town really is deserted, then perhaps we could take 
shelter in one of the buildings there for a day or two, safely away 
from the brunt of the search. There would be enemy soldiers garrisoned 
there, to be sure, but it's unlikely they would be looking for us so 
far from where we were last seen."

	Haruka took a deep breath and sighed. "So, we're going to this 
town of - what was it called again?" 

	"Shimekiri." 

	"Shimekiri, right." The slender young woman sighed again, and 
her shoulders slumped noticeably. "And it's pretty unlikely that Hotaru
will be there, isn't it? I mean, if we do this, it means I'm not even 
trying to find her, huh?" She looked down at the ground for a moment, 
where she had scrawled a strange logo in the ground with her finger. 
The emblem looked like a mix between a cross and a letter 'h': the 
symbol of Saturn. With a glum expression, Haruka reached down and 
rubbed the etching out. "Well," she said, with a large and forced 
smile, "like you said; I have to make sure I'm still around for the 
reunion, right? Hotaru's a pretty tough kid - she'll be okay." 

	Kujuurou stared up at the stars and the moon, barely visible 
through the thick screen of foliage. "I'd say we still have about six 
or seven hours until sunrise," he said calmly. "We should be able to 
make it to Shimekiri from here by then, assuming we leave now and 
march at double time... I'd hate to be caught out on the barren plain 
between here and there when the sun came up. No cover, right under 
Pedri's nose; it wouldn't be pretty."

	The sound of tearing cloth echoed through the still of the 
night as Haruka gripped the thin white fabric of her shirt sleeve and 
tore it loose. "Take off your armour," she said brusquely, grabbing her
other sleeve and ripping it off as well. 

	"What in Shutendoji's name are you doing, woman?" 

	"Oh, I'm sorry. Were you expecting a petticoat?" Opening her 
school jacket and laying it flat on the ground, Haruka began to pick at
the stitches and remove the blazer's lining. "I'm not Scarlett O'Hara, 
okay? If I even OWNED a petticoat, I sure as hell wouldn't wear it in 
public. Now take off your armour," she snarled, gripping the coat 
lining with her teeth and tugging it in two different directions with 
her hands, rending the fabric into thinner strips. "And let me bandage 
you up with these things." 

	"Why?" the man asked, genuinely confused. 

	"Because if you don't, then I just ruined my shirt and jacket 
for nothing, and I'll have to smack you around for it." Gripping one 
of her sleeves, the blonde Senshi tugged it fiercely and tore the 
white cotton fabric along its seam. "Plus, you'll probably do something
stupid like try to carry that empress of yours, and there's no point 
in you bleeding all over her when you do it." Taking the torn sleeve, 
Haruka looped it around Kujuurou's forehead and began to bandage the 
wound on his brow. "See, I'm pretty sure that's what I would do in 
your place. And somebody once told me we had a few things in common." 

**********

	Thraw propped his boots on a battered old wooden desk and 
leaned back with a deep sigh, the chair creaking under his weight. 
Muscles rolled smoothly under skin marred and tattered from millennia 
of combat as he placed his hands behind his bald head, lacing his thick
fingers and biting his lower lip thoughtfully. He was a man scarred, 
to be sure, and he could still place each one of the seemingly endless 
web of marks that ran over his bare arms and torso, but he had been a 
man unbeaten. Outsmarted, perhaps, on one or two occasions he could 
think of, and outmanoeuvred, maybe, but never had he met his personal 
match on the field of battle. Never, that was, until recently. 

	Thunder rumbled in the distance, and Thraw cast his gaze out 
of the grimy and cracked window he sat near, squinting slightly as the 
rising sun shone in his eyes. Looked like a storm was brewing over on 
the eastern side of the castle, near the forest. Good. A predatory 
grin tugged at his lips, and Thraw granted himself the luxury of a 
full-blown smile. Anubis of the Masho, he thought to himself, wherever 
you are, may you be wet and miserable. 

	The thought gave him pause. Did wolves dislike being wet? He 
wasn't sure. He WAS sure that he hadn't wanted anything to do with 
that forest, even if it was where the Masho and their strange new 
companions had been seen last. Fight a wolf in the forest. Right. And 
while he was at it, he might as well ACT as stupid as most of his 
siblings thought he was. No, a wolf in a forest was at home, and Thraw 
was far too smart to battle warriors as experienced as Anubis of the 
Masho in their homes. Let Tytoung wallow in the mud like the useless 
lizard he was. And let 'dear' brother Vyne get his feathers soaked. Or 
better yet, be struck by lightning, the obnoxious prick. Brother Thraw 
was going to stay where it was safe, and let the wolf wear itself out 
a little before he tracked it down. Death was far too simple a revenge 
to sate Thraw's sense of injustice. That mangy, flea-bitten mongrel 
had dared to match Thraw's own skill: his suffering would have to be 
drawn out. 

	Secretly, Thraw was willing to admit that he was looking 
forward to a chance to cross steel with Anubis of the Masho again. 
Still enjoying the luxury of his grin, the bald, one-eared man picked 
up a half-empty bottle of sake and poured a bit into the small cup that
rested by his elbow. And again, he thought to himself as he drained the
cup in a single gulp. And again, and again, and again... He rather 
liked the idea of becoming the Masho of Darkness' own personal shadow. 
The sonata he had been planning was finally written; all that remained 
was to play it out. 

	"Come, Anubis of the Masho," he muttered. "Come to me, and 
bring that pretty little empress of yours. I'm waiting for you..."

	"Ooh," a voice moaned in his ear, "feel like sharing?"

	Thraw felt his spine stiffen and forced the last of the sake 
down his throat. His sister had changed her outfit once again, throwing
away the schoolgirl uniform in favour of a simple silk robe that hung 
off of her smooth shoulders and spilled about her feet in a thick pile 
of pastel blue fabric that he was amazed hadn't tripped her yet. The 
robe's belt was quite deliberately tied loosely, and was open just 
enough to reveal the pink lace trim of the daringly-cut corset she 
wore beneath. She had piled her hair on top of her head in a 
complicated affair of pins and pearls that left two long lavender locks
hanging down to frame her face. 

	"Weren't you trying to behave?" 

	"I got bored," Tuls whispered as she let the tip of her tongue 
trace the outer edge of his only remaining ear. Through great effort, 
Thraw fought the urge to leap to his feet - and out the window. With 
a swatting gesture, he waved his amorous sister away from him. 
Chuckling deep in her throat, Tuls slunk around the simple wooden desk 
and slid up onto its surface, taking the sake bottle in one hand and 
wagging her index finger at him. "Naughty boy," she said teasingly. 
"You're being very unhelpful. Pedri wants you doing your job, and I..."
she smiled. "Well, I want you doing something else entirely, but we'll 
have to discuss that later." With a predatory look in her strange 
golden eyes, Tuls slowly let her gaze wander up and down Thraw's form, 
licking her lips. "Honestly," she groaned, "the sacrifices I make for 
our great cause..." 

	"You poor dear," Thraw said dryly. "My heart bleeds." 

	The beautiful young woman smirked and leaned forward, resting 
her hands on the desk's surface to support herself as she rested her 
chin on the top of his head. "Well," she said, kissing his bald skull, 
"when this little mission is over, I'll make sure you show me." Leaning
back again, Tuls pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows in a highly 
mischievous expression. "I think I still have a few toys you aren't 
immune to yet; it ought to be fun." 

	Something knocked on the door, and Thraw exhaled in relief. He 
was beginning to wonder if sending Tuls after him was just a further 
punishment, one of Pedri's sadistic little tricks. Leaping to his feet,
the large man bounded across the room and threw the door open with such
force it came off of its hinges. "What is it?" he asked, cold sweat 
pouring down his face. 

	A vaguely humanoid figure swathed in black rags pointed 
emphatically down the stairs it had just climbed and Thraw ground his 
teeth. If these damned things had eyes, he thought, I'd just give them 
a blasted pen and a piece of paper and be done with it. Rubbing his 
throbbing temples with the thumb and fingers of one hand, he braced 
himself against the doorframe, which creaked ominously. "Okay," he 
growled, "there are two reasons why one of you is supposed to bother 
me. Does Pedri want a report?" 

	"That's why I'm here, sweetie," Tuls called out from inside his
impromptu office. 

	Thraw growled a bit louder. I can actually feel the veins 
pulsing in my head, he thought to himself. For an instant, he found 
himself struck with the mental image of his whole skull exploding like 
a volcano, wiping out the entire town in a molten wave of rage and 
stress. "Well then," he snarled between his clenched teeth, "there's 
only one other reason you should be here, unless you've decided to end 
your not-life prematurely. Have you seen the ones we seek?" 

	The black-garbed creature nodded the bundle of rags that served
as its head with enthusiasm. Thraw reached towards the back of his belt
and drew out a large dirk, a thick dagger with a serrated edge on one 
side. "And," he said with a sudden sense of calm, tossing the blade 
into the air and catching it again as it fell, "did you see them 
recently? Nearby, even?" 

	Again, the creature bobbed its head. Thraw smirked. "And you'd 
like me to follow you, no doubt," he said kindly. "Tag along behind 
you like a trusting little puppy, and wander right into some kind of 
trap, as I did last time." The dirk spun through the air, and Thraw 
caught it expertly by the blade. "Hold very still," he said, still in 
a friendly tone, as he snapped back the arm holding the knife. "I 
just want to check your qualifications." 

	The dirk flew through the air as though shot from a cannon, 
and the monster's head burst open, showering crimson slime and shards 
of bone across the corridor to splatter against the far wall. 

	Thraw wiped a fine mist of slime off of his face and smiled 
down at the pile of dark rags and rapidly spreading pool of red goo 
seeping from underneath them. "Thank you very much," he said. "You've 
done a good job, soldier; your sacrifice will be remembered." Stepping 
over the stinking pile of rotting fabric and putrid ooze, Thraw yanked 
the dirk free from where it had embedded in the wall and wiped it clean
on his leather pants before sliding it back into its scabbard. 

	"Tell Pedri," he said to Tuls, "that my mission will soon be 
complete. And that vengeance will be ours." Turning back into the 
hallway, he yelled down the stairs to another pair of the swathed, 
zombie-like creatures. "Summon the troops! Remember the plan, and for 
the sake of our beloved Mother, don't forget to bring your new 
equipment!" 

	His sonata was nigh; he could almost hear the musicians warming
up their instruments and preparing for the opening bridge.

**********

	Kujuurou rubbed his nose with his thumb and forefinger as 
Kayura tried to find a pair of sandals that would fit her. The girl's 
petite size was working against her yet again; the hooded cloak that 
they had thrown over the denim jeans and white shirt she had borrowed 
from Nasuti Yagyu ballooned about her slender form as she moved, 
billowing like a ship's sail in a strong breeze. The denim jacket she 
had once worn was packed securely away in the wicker basket she carried
over one shoulder, along with a few days' worth of supplies. It was 
all going off without a hitch. 

	And that was what worried him. They had crossed the plains 
easily enough, as expected; the night had concealed them, and as Masho 
of Darkness he had been able to use the power of his element to shield 
them further as they passed into the village. The smell of death had 
been so strong that even the Outer Senshi had noticed it, and Anubis 
himself had nearly gagged. It pervaded everything in the small village,
now reduced once more to the ghost town it had been the last time he 
visited it. 

	Haruka ducked into the small building - a school, according to 
the sign above the door - that he and Kayura had entered in a 
last-ditch gamble to find any kind of shoe that would be small enough 
for her to wear comfortably. Haruka's problem had been the opposite; in
the Dark Kingdom, most creatures her height seemed to have either 
hooves or feet shaped too oddly for any footgear she could wear. 
Finally, she had pulled the split-toed slippers from a youma that had 
been lying dead in the street and decreed them a good enough fit. They
went rather well with the baggy white trousers and black turtleneck 
sweater she had scrounged. Over this, she wore a thick V-shaped vest 
of sky blue that concealed her... figure... well enough for her to 
pass as male. Her hands -and fingernails- were safely hidden under 
leather gauntlets, and a harlequin's grinning porcelain mask rode atop 
her short shag of blonde hair, waiting to be pulled down over her 
features at a moment's warning. 

	"Come on!" she hissed from the doorway. "Setsuna and Michiru 
found a storm cellar attached to some tavern. Guess the place used to 
be a barn, or something. The barkeep was using it to store wine 
barrels. Setsuna says it's not too likely they'll check in there."

	Kujuurou scratched the top of his head. "That sounds good 
enough for a day or so," he said, sounding distracted. 

	Kayura looked from where she was tying on the thick geta 
sandals that had -finally!- fit her. "What's wrong, Anubis?" the young 
empress asked, pulling up the hood of her cloak and placing a floppy, 
wide-brimmed hat on top of it. "You seem a bit disturbed," her voice 
echoed from the deep shadows of the cowl as she shouldered the deep 
wicker basket with their pilfered supplies. 

	"Something feels wrong here," Kujuurou said gruffly, turning 
in a small circle and looking from side to side. "I can't explain it, 
but there's something off." He still wore the black pleated hakama that
he had thrown on before leaving his castle, but had tossed on a leather
shirt that had rectangular metal plates bolted to it at regular 
intervals. There were two holes in the back -for wings, he guessed- but
it did a good enough job of covering his torso. In his hands he carried
a helmet of some silverish material that matched the armour plates on 
his jerkin well enough. Two large bat wings rose from either side of 
the helm, and its visor was carved to resemble a snarling demon. Not 
what he would have chosen to be inconspicuous, but in the somewhat 
eclectic youma society, he would barely earn a second glance from most 
casual observers. Most importantly, it covered his face. 

	"Well, what is it?" Kayura placed her hands on hips, causing 
her cloak to part slightly in the front as her hood tilted to one side 
and the floppy hat almost fell off. 

	"I don't know. A smell of some kind, I think, but the stench 
of death is so strong I can barely make it out." Anubis donned the 
silver helmet, his voice immediately becoming more muffled. "And where 
are the troops? I know that they could have been sent to the forest to 
help search for us, but I was anticipating at least a token presence 
by Pedri's soldiers. Why bother attacking this town if they weren't 
going to claim it? It's like they just rushed in, killed everyone, and 
left. Nothing's been taken, and nobody's here. It makes no sense." 

	Kayura shrugged eloquently as she followed Haruka out of the 
door and ducked behind a water trough that had once been used to 
refresh horses that were tied to the railing running along the walkway.
Kujuurou stepped out as well, and stopped dead in his tracks as a 
flash of motion caught his eye. There, on the roof of the general store
across the road, a figure in black had ducked furtively out of sight. 

	"I think we may have found those troops I was wondering about,"
he mumbled under his breath to the two women, who glanced at him in 
confusion. "Get to Setsuna and Michiru," he continued, rising to his 
full height and peering intently at the tops of nearby buildings. A few
doors further down from the first one, he saw another figure ducking 
down. The same one? If it was just a single scout... "Tell them to 
watch the rooftops," he said quickly. "I'm going to see if I can cut 
off the one I saw before he gets back to report us." 

	"But, if we've got disguises-" Haruka began, before Kayura 
quickly stopped her short. 

	"In THIS town," the cloaked woman whispered, "it doesn't matter
what we look like. Every living thing is supposed to be dead, remember?
Even if they don't know who we are, they'll want us killed. And the 
last thing we want to do is expose ourselves here after all the trouble
Anubis went through to get us away from the search parties, so let's 
go!" Kayura grabbed Haruka's wrist, and the pair darted off down the 
street as Kujuurou hurried across the dirt road and used that walkway's
railing as a springboard to vault up to the second story of the shop. 
His hands caught the edge of a windowsill, and he flipped up onto the 
roof, deciding to ignore the sudden burning sensation in his side that 
told him he had just strained the wound in his side a little bit 
further than it was ready to be strained. 

	He hit the roof tiles with a loud clatter, metal plates ringing
off of the ceramic shingles as he scrambled to his feet and tried to 
see through the thin slit of his stupid helmet. Arms spread wide in an 
attempt to keep him balanced, the Wolf Masho stepped quickly and 
lightly on the loosely set shingles, crossing the rooftop at a run and 
dreading the mis-step that could send him back to the street the fast 
way. 

	Not so far away, that same black-garbed form popped up, angling
its head so that it appeared to be looking back down into the street. 
Watching for a few seconds, the figure then turned and began to dash 
across the rooftop. Kujuurou cursed silently and began to run faster, 
hurling himself across the gap between buildings and biting his lip 
as he felt a few of his toes crunch when he landed. Limping, he 
hobbled after the fleeing creature as quickly as he could. It had 
noticed him behind it, he realised, and was no longer trying to 
conceal itself from view as it ran. The blasted helmet was bouncing 
around uncontrollably, so the Wolf Masho knocked it off of his head 
and sent it spiralling down to the street as he leapt again, landing 
on his shoulder and rolling with the impact as he managed to close the 
gap between the monster and himself. 

	Raising his head, Kujuurou saw his shadowy prey standing on 
the edge of the very roof he was on. Staring first at him, and then 
over the side of the building, the creature almost seemed to shrug and 
leapt to the ground below. With a certain feeling that he just wasn't 
lucky enough for the creature to have fallen to its end, the Wolf Masho
thrust himself back onto his feet and staggered drunkenly after it, 
reaching the roof's edge and peering down into the town square. The 
place was a large, open area, likely used as a market place back before
the village was turned into a slaughterhouse. Surrounding by buildings 
on all sides, there was a large fire still burning in the middle of 
the square, and the smoke was filled with the stench of burning blood 
and flesh. 

	The one he had been following stood in front of the fire, 
swathed from head to toe in black rags and bandages. With a scowl, 
Kujuurou gripped the leather fabric of his jerkin and pulled, his 
clothes shredding like paper to reveal a form-fitting suit of crimson 
armour that covered him from the neck down. Clad in his undergear, 
the dark-haired man leapt down into the square with renewed vigour. He 
landed in a crouch, arms spread wide and knees touching his chest as 
he glared at the black-clad monster. 

	Which began to chuckle as it reached up and hooked its fingers 
into the mass of rags swaddling its head and pulled them free, 
revealing the grinning face of Thraw. "Hello, my little puppy," he 
said with relish, a sword seeming to appear in his other hand by magic.
"Tell me; how does it feel to fall for your own trick?" 

	"You," Kujuurou growled, his piercing green eyes narrowing. "I 
was hoping I'd get another chance with you. BUSSO, YAMI!" The smooth 
cobblestones beneath Kujuurou's feet suddenly exploded, hurtling into 
the air as a flurry of jagged black shadows burst from the earth and 
danced about his glowing form. Darkness swirled, forming a cocoon of 
crackling black energy around him before being split open by a trio of 
steel claws and flying away from the armoured form of Anubis, slowly 
changing red as it settled about his shoulders as a cape. 

	"Well done," Thraw commented as the ebony rags that had covered
him suddenly burst into flames and burned off of his body, leaving him 
clad in his usual leather pants and heavy boots. There were, as always,
enough weapons hanging from the studded belt he wore to supply a 
battalion. "I was actually hoping you would do that, Masho." Looking 
over the other man's shoulder, Thraw bellowed at the top of his lungs.

	"NOW!" 

	At his command, a veritable sea of the shadowy undead soldiers 
appeared on the rooftops of every single building, totally encircling 
the two men. As Anubis dropped into a fighting stance, his eyes 
flicking from one group of the creatures to another, they all moved in 
unison. Bending over, each of the warriors lifted a large metal plate 
and tilted it towards the town square. The Masho of Darkness cursed, 
covering his eyes with his forearm as the entire square was filled with
blinding light. 

	"Mirrors," Thraw explained pleasantly, seemingly unbothered by 
the sudden explosion of brilliance that surrounded them both. "To 
catch the rays of the sun, the light of this fire, and destroy every 
single shadow in this place." He smirked. "Last time, Masho of 
Darkness, we fought in a dark room. I'm afraid that this time your 
element won't be able to help you." 

**********

	"He should be here by now," Kayura said, staring up at the 
twin doors that were the only entrance to the cellar they were holed 
up in. It was only one creature: how long could it possibly take Anubis
to deal with one creature? She didn't like it. He should be back by 
now. Something was wrong. 

	"Calm down," Haruka said reassuringly. "Anubis is probably on 
his way here even as we speak. I'm sure he had no trouble taking care 
of that... whatever the hell those things are." She carefully bit her 
tongue before she could add anything about his injuries possibly 
slowing him down. He had revealed that to her in confidence, and she'd 
be damned before she gave away his secret. 

	"Still," Setsuna added quietly, her dark cloak of emerald hair 
and dusky skin making her all but invisible in the gloom of the cellar,
"Kayura has a point. He ought to have returned a while ago." She had 
changed her clothes as well, wearing calfskin boots and tight grey 
breeches, with a thick red scarf tied about her waist like a belt. The 
white silk blouse was still her own, but she had tossed a sleeveless 
black trenchcoat over it and turned up the collar to conceal her face 
better. Leave it to Setsuna, Haruka thought wryly, to find a disguise 
that was fashionable.

	"Well," Michiru asked calmly, tucking her long mane of seafoam 
hair under the peaked cap she wore, "what do you suggest? Should we 
all go and look for him, then?" Fidgeting slightly, the elegant Senshi 
of Neptune brushed at the front of her shirt. She had raided the same 
closet as Haruka, and came up with another black turtleneck sweater, 
over which she wore a white jacket with dark green sleeves that matched
her cap. 

	"Too risky," Setsuna replied, in that same quiet tone. "You 
and Haruka had better stay here. Kayura and I will try to track down 
Uncle Kujuurou."

	"Right," Haruka said, pushing open the cellar doors and 
gesturing up through them. "Well, go find the poor guy and get him back
here, then. He's probably just gotten turned around a little." 

	"I hope you're right," Kayura admitted, climbing out of the 
underground chamber with Setsuna following behind her. Still, though, 
with the way he ran off, I worry."

	"It's natural," Setsuna assured the shorter woman as they 
stepped out into the alleyway and Haruka began to ease the doors shut 
after them. 

	"I suppose you would know," Kayura replied with a smile. "You 
must have spent quite a few nights worrying about your-" 

	Whatever else the empress had to say was cut off as Haruka 
slammed home the thick bar that slid across the twin storm doors with 
a resounding thud. "Well," she said with a smile as she turned and 
sat on the stairs leading down into the cellar, "I guess it's just you 
and me now, Michiru." 

	"Oh, I don't know about that," a strange voice sighed, 
floating from somewhere deep in the shadows of the small chamber. 
"After all, I'll be MORE than happy to keep you company... By the way, 
has anyone ever told you two that you're sexy when you're surprised?"

**********

	Anubis hit the ground hard, and felt the breath rush out of him
as Thraw planted a heavy iron-soled boot in his stomach. Blood splurted
from between the curved plates of his yoroi, and spilled onto the 
stones in a pool of crimson. He slashed upwards with his claws, and 
Thraw batted the strike aside with one hand, as though it were a fly 
that was pestering him. 

	"I'd expected better from you, Anubis of the Masho," the huge 
man sneered, stepping off of his opponent and drawing an axe from his 
belt. The weapon hummed through the air as he paced away, staring down 
at his opponent mockingly. He wouldn't rush this, he told himself. It 
was something to savour.

	"It's been... a long day," Anubis gasped, rolling onto his 
knees and cradling one arm over his injured side. His entire right leg 
screamed in pain as he pushed himself back onto his feet and choked 
down the agony of his broken toes. Turning his body slightly towards 
the larger man, he let his cape drape forward and conceal his clawed 
gauntlet as he readied it to strike again. 

	"Give up," Thraw suggested with a vicious grin. Slowly circling
the armoured man, he let the axe swing back and forth like a pendulum 
at his side. "Every minute this fight drags on, the sun only gets 
higher in the sky." Almost casually, the bald man swung his weapon, 
clashing it against Anubis' shoulder and raising a fury of sparks. 
The axe whirled in a perfect circle, arcing around and sparking again 
against the man's chestplate. 

	Kujuurou reeled back from the sheer force behind the blows, 
glancing though they may have been. Thraw's heavy iron boot slammed 
into his stomach like a cannonball, sending him back to the ground. 
The one-eared man laughed, and hefted the axe once more. 

	"The shadows are gone, Masho. You don't have the power to 
defeat me."

	"I had everything I need to defeat your kind," Anubis growled, 
"when I was lying in my CRIB!" His no dachi flashed, and the head of 
Thraw's axe flew from its shaft. Pivoting with the momentum, the Wolf 
Masho rammed his claws deep into his opponent's chest. 

	Thraw threw his head back, shoulders shaking as he roared with 
laughter. "Masterful strike," he managed to choke out, "truly. Very 
masterful." 

	Anubis glanced down. His claws had gone straight through the 
other man's chest, but there was no blood. It didn't even look as if 
the blades had pierced the man's skin, but... they HAD to be in there! 

	"What the hell?" he muttered to himself, moving the claws out 
of the man a few inches and thrusting them back in. Thraw merely 
smiled and shrugged, still chortling softly. "What kind of trick IS 
this?"

	"It's the very best kind, you pathetic fool. By all means, 
draw your sword. Brandish your claws. They will do NOTHING. I have 
tasted your weapons' sting before - they cannot harm me now." With an 
air of disdain, Thraw backhanded the Wolf Masho. Anubis spun in a full 
circle and hit the ground again. Humiliation, Thraw decided, was the 
name of the game. Before he ended this worm's life, he wanted the fool 
to realise just how helplessly outclassed he was. 

	Kujuurou gasped for breath, his forehead resting against the 
cobblestones as he tightened his grip on his sword. It wasn't fair, he 
thought angrily. He knew he could kill this monster. It was just so 
bright, so hot... Slowly, he raised his head and squinted at the 
wavering form of his enemy. The dark form drew yet another weapon from 
his belt. A mace, Anubis thought - it looked somewhat like the one 
Rajura wore on his right gauntlet. 

	"Give up," Thraw repeated, tapping the mace against his free 
hand. "Why won't you give up? I have fought and won countless battles! 
I am BETTER than you are! Admit it, damn you!" 

	"Don't you ever stop talking?" Anubis asked tiredly. 
Inexorably, he drew his legs up under him, pushing himself up with his 
hands as his knees brushed his chestplate. "Honestly," he groaned, as 
he surreptitiously clenched his fingers around one of smaller of the 
sqaure's cobblestones, "it's not surprising that you've won so many 
fights. Your enemies probably surrended just to shut you up!"

	Thraw scowled and hefted the mace he held, striding forward. 
"You speak bravely," he sneered, "for a man on his knees. Can't you 
see that you've lost?" 

	Anubis twisted his wrist, and felt the stone under his hand 
give a little. Narrowing his eyes, the Masho of Darkness turned his 
head and looked up at the imposing mountain of muscle that was glaring 
down at him. "I guess I'm a bit slow," he said with a dry chuckle as 
the stone pulled loose and fitted into his palm. "Maybe I need a rock 
to fall on my head." 

	The projectile shot through the air like a small missile and 
smashed into Thraw's temple with the crack of a bat hitting a baseball.
With the sweetest bellow Anubis had ever heard, the bald man's head 
snapped backwards as the mace dropped from his nerveless fingers. A 
thick cloud of dust rose from the earth as the seven-foot tall monster 
went down like a modern-day Goliath. 

	Gathering his cape around him, Kujuurou dug the tip of his no 
dachi into the earth and used it to lever himself back onto his feet. 
Blood flowed freely from the wounds that had reopened in his stomach 
and side, and a sticky wetness under his helmet told him that the 
scratch on his forehead had pulled open again as well. Leaning heavily 
against his sword, the Wolf Masho gasped for breath and strained to 
see something through the thick, swirling dust that billowed in front
of him. 

	Lying still on the smooth stones of the town square, Thraw 
numbly reached up with his hand and touched the side of his head. Blood
coated the entire side of his face, and fireworks kept going off inside
his skull whenever he moved his eyes. He could feel his pulse quicken, 
and clenched his teeth in a quiet snarl, the veins in his neck 
springing quickly into bas-relief as the blood pounded in his temples. 
The fireworks were rapidly turning into pinwheels and bottle rockets, 
sparking and hissing in the corners of his vision. 

	Windows rattled in the nearby buildings as Thraw roared in 
pure, unadulterated rage. Anubis barely even had time to make out the 
shadowy form lunging towards him before the giant's shoulder rammed 
into his chest and sent him hurtling through the air. A hand the size 
of his face wrapped around the Wolf Masho's neck and caught him in 
mid-flight. Thraw's lips peeled back from his filed teeth as he dug his
fingers into the smaller man's throat and watched Anubis gagging for 
air. His other hand hand dipped once more to the thick leather belt 
he wore before swinging up into a fist. The omnipresent light gleamed 
off of metal as Thraw's fist flew forward, and Anubis was sent flying 
yet again. As he fell, Thraw's knee slammed into the small of his back,
lifting him higher. Leaping into the air above him, Thraw's lips 
twisted into a death's-head grin as his fist came down, catching the 
Wolf Masho directly where his helmet joined his neck. 

	Something made a snapping noise, and the ground rushed up to 
meet them both with bone-jarring force. Thraw rose to his feet and 
looked down at the prone form of Kujuurou Sasaki. Both the man's helmet
and the rock it had smashed into had cracked open from the force of 
the impact, and a pool of blood was gradually spreading from under him.
The bald man smiled visciously, shoulders heaving as he strained for 
breath. 

	"Don't bother getting up," he snarled down at the other man. 
"I think you need to lie there and meditate on things for a while. 
That's right; lie there in defeat. The record is straight: I am the 
victor. I am your superior. You may not say the words, Anubis of the 
Masho. Not yet. But I will hear them soon enough." Wiping the side of 
his face with the back of his hand, the monstrous one-eared man stared 
contemplatively at the blood coating his fingers. Looking down again, 
he spat on the fallen Masho and then spun on one heel, striding out of 
the town square. 

	"Keep watch," he called over his shoulder. "If he starts 
to twitch, fight him until he stops. I'll come back before dusk and 
move him to a nice, well-lit room. And cover those mirrors: they're 
giving me a migraine." 

**********

	Kayura knelt down and stared closely at the shattered piece 
of ceramic lying in the dirt of the alley. "Over here!" she called out,
and Setsuna quickly appeared, seeming to materialise at the woman's 
side. She wondered for a moment when Anubis had taught her friend to 
do that trick, then shook the thought off as something to ponder 
another time. 

	"What is it, Kayura?" Setsuna knelt down, brushing her thick 
curtain of emerald hair out of the way as she picked a large piece of 
the clay and examined it, turning the piece this way and that. "It 
looks like a piece of roofing tile."

	"Blue roofing tile," Kayura clarified, looking up. "I'm 
guessing it fell from this building over here." Shielding her eyes 
with one hand, the slim, raven-haired girl squinted slightly. "Yeah," 
she said, pointing, "You can see there where it came off. Someone must 
have jumped from a roof on the other side of the alley to this one."

	"I see," Setsuna said with a nod. "The way these pieces fell, 
the tile was broken before it hit the ground. No other tiles nearby, 
so it wouldn't have been blown loose in a storm. But if someone leapt 
from one rooftop, the force of their foot landing would crack the 
tile when it hit the other roof..."

	"And the scraping motion of their foot when they ran would 
push the pieces over the edge and into the alley," Kayura finished 
with a shrug. "I'd bet there's a whole trail of broken tiles up on 
those roofs; Anubis is hardly as light as a feather, and if he and 
the guy he was chasing were really running, their feet would be coming 
down pretty hard." 

	"Well," Setsuna concluded, "we can assume they came this way, 
then. Unless, of course, two other people were chasing each other over 
these rooftops recently." Placing her hands on her hips, the statuesque
woman pursed her lips thoughtfully. "When fleeing somebody," she 
murmured, "it usually isn't instinct to run in a straight line, but 
that would seem to be what's happening here. Those two went like an 
arrow from a bow, the second the chase started."

	"Maybe Anubis was following the guy too close for him to try 
changing direction," Kayura suggested. "Besides, unless that creature  
knew the exact layout of this place, it wouldn't make sense to risk 
running into a dead-end by accident. He probably wanted to get back to 
his base or the nearest reinforcements, as soon as possible. Whatever 
these things are, they're not stupid, believe me."

	Setsuna nodded as she marched out of the alley. "If they kept 
travelling in that direction," she said simply, "then we should do the 
same. That would mean down this street. And let's keep looking for any 
way to get up there, too." 

	"Yes, ma'am," the empress said good-naturedly, tossing in a 
sarcastic salute. 

	"Oh, I'm sorry," Setsuna replied with a smirk as the two women
walked down the street, "did you want to be in charge?" 

	"Well, I AM an empress..."

	"You're not MY empress," Setsuna reminded the shorter woman, 
who crossed her arms and pouted. 

	"Yeah, and you just love to rub that in, don't you?" Kayura's 
mouth twitched, then she finally let her smile break out. "It wouldn't 
kill you to at least visit us every once in while. You could get things
off the high shelves for me." 

	Setsuna smiled, and rubbed the back of her head uncomfortably. 
"It's not that I don't like you, Kayura, but... I don't exactly care 
for the company you keep."

	"Oh, HIM." Kayura waved one hand in a dismissive gesture. "He 
only stole your childhood and ruined your life because Arago TOLD him 
to! It's quite possible he's even sorry. Well, as sorry as he ever 
gets about anything." She sighed. "Which isn't much at all. I get your 
point." 

	"What's that?" Setsuna asked, pointing at a gleaming silver 
object lying in the street. 

	"That's Kujuurou's!" Kayura quickly ran over and picked up the 
badly dented metal helmet. One bat wing was crumpled, and the visor had
popped off one of its hinges, hanging open like a broken jaw. Cradling 
the headpiece in her arms, the sable-haired empress looked up and 
froze, her eyes widening as her jaw fell slack. Setsuna barely managed 
to duck in time to avoid the helmet as it flew over Kayura's shoulder, 
and the young woman raced down a side alley as fast as her legs could 
carry her. 

	"What?" Setsuna asked as she took off after the smaller woman. 
"What did you-" The words stopped, as her heart decided to block them 
off on its way to her throat. Kayura slid across the paved ground, her 
long cloak catching the air and billowing like a drag chute as she 
skidded to the side of the armoured figure lying next to the raging 
bonfire. Setsuna, exercising a bit more caution, merely ran to him, 
dropping to one knee and pressing her gloved hand against the side of 
his neck. 

	"He's still alive," she said breathlessly, "but there's no 
telling for how long - if you had any here, I'd guess he was hit by a 
very angry train." Setsuna sighed and shook her head, her long cloak 
of dark green hair rippling with the motion. "By the gods, Uncle; what 
did this to you?"

	Kujuurou's fingers twitched slightly, and he made a soft 
gurgling noise as his mouth opened. "S-Setsuna," he croaked. 

	"What?" Sweeping aside her hair, the elegant woman leaned 
closer, having to nearly place her ear against the other man's mouth 
to make out what he was trying to say. "What is it, Uncle?" 

	"Setsuna," Kayura said quietly, "I think you want to turn 
around, now. And for Shuten's own sake, don't make any sudden moves." 

	With a growing sense of unease, Setsuna rose to her feet and 
lifted her head, moving slowly and carefully. There, standing in 
utter silence on the rooftops in front of her, were dozens -no, even 
HUNDREDS- of creatures, all wrapped from head to toe in black, 
slime-soaked bandages and rags that glistened in the light of the fire.
It was impossible to distinguish their individual features, or even 
their genders, let alone whether or not they were human. Each carried 
an old, rusted katana, viscous crimson fluid trickling down the blades 
and drooling from between their rags like warm caramel. Every one of 
the creatures reeked of death, and seemed to radiate a sheer, mindless
malevolence.

	"I wasn't aware that Pedri HAD this many," Kayura said, 
fighting to resist the trembling in her voice. 

	"I have bad news," Setsuna responded, looking over her shoulder
at the empress. "There's even more of them over here." 

	"Do you suppose we could transform before they made it down 
to us, Setsuna, dear?" 

	"I'm not sure," Setsuna admitted, "but I vote we find out." 

	"BUSSO, ONI!" 

	"PLUTO PLANET POWER, MAKE UP!" 

	As if activated by the women's words, the entire swarm of 
warriors hurled themselves off of the roofs, plummeting to the ground 
and springing forward, blades whistling through the air. Sailor Pluto 
quickly raised her Time Key Staff, the large garnet embedded in its 
end flaring. 

	"GARNET ORB!" 

	The first wave of Pedri's silent soldiers slammed into the 
sparkling wall of Pluto's force field, fabric shredding and slime 
spraying everywhere in a fine mist as bones melted to jelly. Those 
a few feet behind halted their advance in time, hacking at the glowing 
globe that shielded the trio with their blades, slime hissing and 
sparks flying from their assault. 

	Setsuna winced and clutched her teeth, squinting as she fought 
off the ache she could feel spreading from the back of her skull and 
stabbing at her eyes. She couldn't hold it forever - every strike the 
shield took, it felt like someone was pounding her in the temple with 
a lead pipe. Sinking to her knees, she felt the field give slightly 
under their relentless assault, shrinking by a few inches. Encouraged, 
the creatures doubled their efforts, and Setsuna felt a wave of 
nausea. 

	"Kayura," she gagged, "what are you doing?"

	The young woman had dropped to her knees, clutching the ringed 
shakujo staff of Kauso in her hands and pressing her forehead against 
the smooth grain of the wood. "I'm praying," she responded firmly, "to
my ancestors. In the hope they shall deliver us. Seeing as how we can't
escape with these things surrounding us, and Anubis would never survive
if that force field goes down, I'm open to other suggestions." 

	"Pray harder," Setsuna said in a worried tone, as the field 
suddenly shrunk another inch. Clutching her forehead with one hand, 
the woman gasped in pain. Kayura squeezed her eyes shut and began to 
murmur under her breath, clutching the staff in her hands so tightly 
that her knuckles began to turn white. 

	The rings started to clang against each other. At first, it 
seemed to be merely because of Kayura's grip, but the chiming grew 
steadily louder, as the rings began to lift at impossible angles, 
whirling about faster and faster as they sang their musical tone. 
Kayura looked up with steadily widening eyes as the shakujo glowed with
a soft, golden light. Even Setsuna stared from where she lay, almost on
top of Anubis as her shield grew ever smaller. 

	"Toshitada?" the youthful empress asked in a small voice, as 
the shakujo gleamed like a beacon of hope. The expression on her face 
was one of childlike wonder as Setsuna screamed, the force field 
shattered, and the world dissolved into gold...

**********

	The first thing Sailor Pluto realised was that she wasn't 
nearly as dead as she had thought she would be. A fat raindrop 
splattered on top of her head, and several dozen of its friends chose 
to join the party. Thunder boomed somewhere in the distance, and the 
ground under her hands was surprisingly pliant, oozing between her 
fingers. 

	She sat up, and looked over at Kayura. The empress' long hair 
had already been slicked into a thick tail of ebony by the driving 
rain, and water run off of her armour in funnels, puddling on the 
shoulders of her leather overcoat before tricking down to the ground. 
The girl looked like a drowned mouse that had gotten its tail stuck 
in a wall socket, smears of black mud covering her armour and face. 

	"What was that?" Kayura asked in a hushed tone. "Did what I 
think happened just happen?" 

	"If it didn't," Setsuna replied, flipping back her thick cloak 
of drenched hair, "we're all dead and doing a very good job of 
pretending otherwise."

	Kayura looked down at the still form of Anubis. "Amazing," she 
muttered. "I never actually thought that it would work..." 

	"Maybe it didn't," Sailor Pluto said grimly as she looked over 
Kayura's head and pointed. 

	"What do you mean?" Kayura asked, turning to see what the other
woman was pointing at. 

	A single tower rose from the ground, dominating the landscape. 
It didn't look constructed, so much as carved from a single, giant 
piece of ebony and then thrust deep into the planet's heart. The wind 
howled about the towering edifice with a constanst wail of agony as 
the rain hammered down and lightning flashed, thunder rumbling like a 
wild beast. 

	"The Keep," Setsuna said simply. "I guess we did die. Welcome 
back to hell." 

**********

TO BE CONTINUED...


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