Stubborn stubborn men, Molly thought as she walked up the hill to the Sanjoin manor; considering that its owner, or former owner, had few if any need to walk around the city, it was a pretty long way to get there. She sighed. Neflyte and his…privacy! And Kelvin and his… obsession with coming up here, the redhead cursed as she wiped some sweat from her forehead. It was almost noon and the heat was almost unbearable, so much that Molly was glad when the road ended and the long path of forest that surrounded the house darkened her environment. If one thing she could say about Neflyte was that the man certainly had a thing for seclusion.

She decide to cut her way through the trees instead of following the dirt path from where, she supposed, the car was driven to the main door. What if he’s alive? What if he wants me to be with him? she wondered; for the first time in four years, Molly felt butterflies in her stomach, the ones that only he could give her. In all the time that passed since that night, when he disappeared in her arms, the red-haired girl never had, actually, stopped dreaming of the things that might have happened if she had been able to get the thorns out from his shoulder; all childish naïve dreams at first: A white wedding, a loving family. Then, as she grew older, her fantasies also changed; suddenly she was more interested in finding the truth about that man, in discovering the real person hidden behind the image of Masato Sanjoin and his alter-ego, Neflyte.

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a flash of light coming from behind the trees, some kind of putrid smell filled the atmosphere inside the forest, and the loud screams of Kelvin could be heard not far from where she was standing. Molly tried to run, but her body seemed to be stuck to the ground, she couldn’t take a step forward or a step back. She wrapped her arms around her body, trying to protect herself from the strange energy floating around the forest, and waited.

* * * * * * * *

Neflyte braced himself against a nearby wall; a strange feeling of nausea was slowly taking over his body. The entity… he thought just a second before fainting.

When he woke up, his whole body was covered in cold sweat. What the…? He got back on his feet and walked out of the house; from what he had felt, the entity must have been awfully close, probably somewhere in the forest. His energy had been drained somehow, in that condition, he wouldn’t stand a chance against it. He went out, though, determined and a little bit stubborn in doing everything himself.

He walked a few steps from the door, and almost gasped at the disturbing image before him: The boy, Molly’s boyfriend, laid on the ground bleeding. He’s as good as dead, by now, Neflyte deducted, his mind still cold from years of training. The second General walked to Kelvin’s body and kneeled beside him. The boy was still alive.

“You…” he said in a faint voice. “You’re alive…”

Neflyte placed a hand over his wounds, checking if there was anything left to do.

“Please…” Kelvin’s eyes, that looked quite thoughtful without his glasses, suddenly filled with strength and met with Neflyte’s. “I know I won’t live much longer, so listen well, you moron. She still loves you… Prove yourself worth that love.”

The auburn-haired man was caught off guard by these last words. His competitor was slowly expiring in his arms, the one he had looked down to so often, considering him nothing but a sleazy boy. But, you’re right; it’s me who can’t measure up to you… he thought.

“I swear, I’ll do anything for her,” Neflyte whispered, intimidated by the courage he hadn’t been able to show four years earlier, and was now displayed to him by this dying boy.

Kelvin just nodded and closed his eyes for the last time.

“HOW COULD YOU???” The crying voice of a girl made him look up.

A cold shiver went up his spine when he realized it was Molly standing right before him.

“You bastard…” A rage he had never seen before filled her voice. “How could you? First my sister… then my boyfriend…”

Neflyte just stared back at her, unable to defend himself; knowing that she wouldn’t listen to him anyways. I didn’t… Please believe me… please forgive me… “Molly…” he whispered.

“I WISH YOU HAD STAYED DEAD!!!!!!!!” she cried, slapping him on the face.

“Call an ambulance…” he said and teleported away.

* * * * * * * *

Darien paced around in his room; he had been awake all night just thinking about the last words Malachite had said to him that time in the Negaverse, I do not believe in absolute destiny. He had gone to the conclusion that all of his present life was only an interlude between his past in the Silver Millennium and his future in Crystal Tokyo. That, no matter what he did, in the end it will all amount the same. He was Prince Endymion, Tuxedo Mask and Neo King Endymion; all in all it was fine, the problem was that those three personalities left him with little time to be Darien Chiba. And it was allright, it was bloody fantastic, he would gladly sacrifice his own life for Serena and Rini, and Crystal Tokyo, and the Sailor Scouts; the only goddamn problem was that there were these guys, supposedly his personal guard, supposedly the Guardians of the Sailors, supposedly the ‘Four Heavenly Kings,' who had not only proved them all wrong by having one of them reborn as a woman, but also had the nerve to tell him they didn’t believe in absolute destiny.

And it all made him feel pretty stupid; for being the only one who had, actually, sacrificed his own freedom to pursue a greater good; even if he wasn’t exactly sure how it worked. Why couldn’t he admit that, sometimes, he got extremely bored of being surrounded by Serena and her friends only? Why couldn’t he say that it had also freaked the hell out of him when Rini appeared out of the sky? Couldn’t they know that, even if Neo King Endymion was, he, Darien Chiba wasn’t ready to become a parent? Wasn’t he supposed to become a great doctor and focus on his career for a change? Should marrying Serena be the only thing in his life? Had he any opinion on the matter or was it all part of Queen Serenity’s plan?

He stopped and looked in the mirror. I’m through with this, he said to himself, the past is gone, the future’s way too far, I’m living my own life. And he knew just where to start.

* * * * * * * *

Jedite was sweeping the stairs of the temple, while, on the doorway, his dear friend was drawing in her sketch book. He had known better than to ask anything when she showed up the night before, looking for a place to stay. Dressed in his clothes, Zoycite somehow acquired a boyish look; come to think of it, it hadn’t been such a shock to find out that she had been a man in her past life; all in all, it had always been her charm. Even if she was a woman, Zoycite certainly knew how to be more of a man that the three of them together: she could perform the roughest tasks and wouldn’t back down on anything just because she was female. I can’t even recall the last time I saw her in a skirt. Jedite smiled.

She looked at him and smiled back, making some quick movements with her pencil on the paper and turning it to reveal quite a good drawing of him in temple clothes.

“You’re pretty good, did you know that?” he said, walking closer to take a better look at her drawing. “Definitely talented.”

“I used to dream about studying art in Pont Aven before I joined the Negaverse.” She sighed.

“Do you regret it?” Jedite asked.

“No.” She smiled sadly. “Given my circumstances, it was my only chance to ever leave Dijon.”

“I know what you mean.” He looked at her, a little overwhelmed. “I really don’t want to go back to Mumbai… especially not to that place.” Jedite felt his lungs on the verge of closing and quickly grabbed his inhaler out from his pocket, relieved that the only person nearby was one he trusted enough.

“Relax,” she said, and wrapped a friendly arm around his shoulder. “Don’t let it bring you down, it was a long time ago.”

Jedite just shook his head. “I often felt like out of all four, I’m the one who got stuck with the worst,” he whispered. “Look at me, first the thing with my f***ing parents and then my goddamn asthma, not to mention I’m like the only one without a 20/20 eyesight.”

“Big deal.” Zoycite smirked at their stories. “I never had a chance to do what I wanted and the only time I did it...” She just rolled her eyes. “Never knew who my father was, my mother abandoned me and my sister. It’s been no fun and games for me either.”

“I guess not one of us four had it easy,” Jedite sighed.

* * * * * * * *

They were sitting in the coffee shop they had their first date four years ago; back then she had almost dragged him in, and now it was him who called her. She just sipped her coffee in silence, her purple eyes had grown darker and most of her teenage temper had turned into a woman’s strength.

“It’s been a long time since we were here,” Darien said, breaking their silence.

“Really?” Raye asked, turning her face to look outside the window. “I forgot it completely.”

“Yeah, you invited me that time.” He smiled softly “Then we went to the park… it was four years ago, when Neflyte was in town.”

“Nope, I just can’t remember it.” Darien knew, by the way she said those words, Raye had never really forgiven him.

“I really enjoyed our dates,” he admitted, and this returned her eyes to his. “I never wanted it to end the way it did.”

Raye smirked at him, in a way she never did to anyone. You must really resent me, he thought and reached out his hand to touch hers. She withdrew it immediately.

“It was your decision.” She frowned. “Your destiny is with Serena… that’s the way it’s meant to be.”

“I know, I know.” He sighed, a little bit overwhelmed. “But sometimes I wonder how it could have been if only…”

There was a small change in Raye’s eyes, almost unnoticeable but definitely there; her mouth turned into a half smile as she said: “Sometimes, Darien, I think about it myself.”

* * * * * * * *

Thick tresses of blood stained white porcelain as he leaned forward once again, when another rush of the red fluid escaped from his mouth. Vomiting blood…this has to be more serious than I thought, Malachite said in his mind as he leaned his head against the bathroom wall; the pain in his stomach had grown sharper during the last hour and he knew he should have eaten something, yet he couldn’t even think about food. His vision began to cloud and the world went black for a moment; he would have slammed his head against the toilet if a hand hadn’t pulled him by the hair the last minute.

The first General regained consciousness laying on his bed, with a bottle of milk being pressed to his mouth by a blood-crusted hand. He immediately recognized the arm it was attached to and acknowledged the blood covering it wasn’t his... it couldn’t be from its owner either, for it was common red blood and not the strange green substance that, Malachite knew, flowed through the veins of that arm. He raised his hand and yanked the bottle away from his face.

“You have to get something in your stomach,” Neflyte protested. “In case you haven’t noticed, you look like shit.”

“Well, my dear,” Malachite turned his face to meet his comrade’s eyes, “you are definitely not doing much better yourself.”

“Just drink this,” the auburn-haired man insisted with the milk. He just sighed and grabbed the bottle, the white liquid felt somehow soothing as it poured down his throat; of course he wasn’t about to admit it. He placed the bottle on the bedside table and turned his gaze back to Neflyte.

“What happened? Whose blood is that?” he asked, still feeling a bit dizzy.

“The boy… Molly’s boyfriend… He’s dead.” There was a small tremor in the voice of the second General. “I found him outside the manor and he died in my arms.”

A sharp pain assaulted him once again, and he bent over trying to hold back another rush of blood coming out from his mouth. He regained composure in what seemed to be an unbelievable small amount of time. “Did you kill him?” Malachite asked through gritted teeth.

“No.” Neflyte shook his head. “I swear I didn’t, the entity is to blame for that one as well.”

Malachite nodded and, with a great effort, raised himself from the bed. “We must call the others, if that is the case, he will be rising again soon,” he said “And we must be around when it happens.”

* * * * * * * *

He watched her as he buttoned up her blouse with her back turned to him. Needless to say, the whole experience had left him even more confused. Did she know it was my first time as well? he asked to himself, with his eyes still fixed on the ebony cascade of her hair. “How do you feel?” he asked, trying to sound as if he was more concerned about her than about himself.

“Just like I did two hours ago,” she answered, and fixed her long hair before turning around to face him. “I have to go now.”

“This will not happen again, will it?” He lowered his gaze to the carpet, a bit too ashamed to look her in the eye.

“Of course it won’t!” Raye scoffed. “Serena is my friend, you know... But this one, well, she owed it to me.”

“So did I,” Darien sighed as she walked out from his apartment.

He lay back on his bed, feeling the softness of the comforter against his naked skin. A soft cry surprised him as he rose to find a blond haired girl staring at him. The look in her big blue eyes was as infinite and unspeakable as the whole universe.

“I met Raye while I was walking out of the elevator…” she whispered. “She told me your door was unlocked.”

“Serena…” Darien whispered, for the first time not knowing what to say to her.

“What’s wrong, Darien?” she asked, and he realized she wasn’t angry but concerned.

“Serena.” He looked into her eyes, finally realizing the magnitude of their depth; and, for the first time, he admitted: “Serena, I’m scared.”

The blond girl took a step closer and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Darien hid his face on her belly and breathed in the cherry scent of her skin. “It will be alright,” she said, running her fingers through his hair, soothing him with her loving hands. “Everything will be alright.”

“You think so, my love?” he asked, speaking these last words more sincerely than ever.

She took his face in her hands and, softly, tilted it for him to look at her.

“When have I ever failed you?” she asked with a smile.

* * * * * * * *

She paced around the hall, outside from where the members of the Parliament, along with Queen Beryl, had been discussing for over three hours. The heavy coat made her look a bit smaller than she was; but the temperature of the Negaverse had decreased so badly that it was barely impossible to stay warm without many layers of clothes. She lighted up a smoke and, along with many other Generals, awaited for a resolution.

She was not too much to look at: barely reaching the minimal required height to become a General, her long violet hair constantly getting in the way of her face and her big purple eyes were surrounded by faint lines that revealed her true age. Her thin lips were frowned in anguish as she turned to look at the man standing beside her.

He didn’t look as if he was doing any better than her: his blue eyes revealed no emotion, but she could tell he was nervous for the way he ran a hand through his hair. He was staring at the closed doors of the closed hall.

“Things are getting worse than we expected,” he said and wrapped an arm around her waist. “We must get out of here, do something.”

“Azurite…” Carbonite looked at her husband. “I trust Malachite will find us a solution quite soon.”

“As much faith as I have on my brother’s skills,” Azurite shook his head, “I’m afraid he’s not being himself lately.”

The violet haired woman nodded slightly, she could also recall noticing the shade that, during the past months, had been extinguishing the silver halo of the ’Ice King’.

* * * * * * * *

Jedite stared in silence at his superior officers, holding Zoycite’s hand between his. They had called an urgent meeting, and it was plain obvious why; both men looked like they had been through hell: Malachite appeared like he could barely stand up by himself and Neflyte was covered in blood and staring into space.

“I have called you to this urgent meeting, because there happens to be an issue we must get rid of before we take our separate ways to find the stones.” The silver haired general spoke with great effort. “Apparently, the Tokyo PD has some evidence that could get one of us convicted for murder.”

Zoycite released herself from Jedite’s grip and took a step forward; it was clearly visible that she was still mad at Malachite and her temper always blocked her judgement. The moonlight was the only source of illumination over that hidden spot outside the temple; and it reflected on her golden hair and made it look like she had a strange sort of halo. “I think he’s guilty,” she said, and Jedite shuddered a bit when he noticed her words were tinted with a faint French accent.

“I didn’t kill anybody, Zoycite.” Neflyte’s voice came out in such an anxious tone, that the blond man immediately realized he wasn’t lying.

“He is telling the truth,” Malachite stated, more to silence Zoycite’s tantrum than to reinforce Neflyte’s position.

Jedite sighed. He knew Neflyte was innocent; being the most social of the four, there was little, if any, chance that the auburn haired General would just go and kill civilians. Besides it was obvious, at least for those who knew about the entity, what the real murderer was. But Zoycite was too angry, and the female General was capable of throwing her best friend to a certain death when overwhelmed by her temper. And Malachite looked like he was about to have a breakdown any second.

“NO! YOU KNOW HE ISN’T!” she said, taking another step and pushing Malachite against a wall. “YOU ONLY DEFEND HIM BECAUSE HE’S YOUR FRIEND!”

Holy… Jedite thought, and exchanged a quick look with Neflyte.

“Zoycite…” the silver haired General whispered.

“And you’re just going to sell us out, again, just like Endymion did a thousand years ago,” she said, her voice filled with rage. “YOU BASTARD!”

What happened next, neither Jedite nor Neflyte had seen it coming: As Zoycite tried to shove him once again, Malachite held her wrist with one hand and slapped her hard on the face with the other. Her lighter body bent from the blow, and she fell on her knees as he released his grip on her hand. Zoycite cried silently and covered her injured face. Malachite took a step backwards and looked at her with something that appeared to be fear. Jedite rushed to her side and held her close; while Neflyte just placed a hand on the shoulder of the older man.

“What have I done?” the silver haired man whispered, staring at his hand in despair.

“Let’s get out of here.” Neflyte wrapped an arm around his friend’s waist. “We’ll talk this over when we come back, let’s give all of us time to cool down a bit.”

Malachite just nodded, and allowed his second in command to lead him away.

Jedite didn’t say a word; he just lifted Zoycite in his arms and headed for the temple.

“It’s over, Jed,” she said. “I’m never going back to him, we’re completely over.”