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It was an unusually muggy winter night. Storm clouds had hung low over Destiny City all day and the strangely green tinted sky led to speculation that bad storms were on the way. The stillness of the day had been unusual, but by nightfall, the winds had finally begun to pick up.

There was a heaviness in the air, too dense to be humidity alone. The city lights could have been to blame for the shift to purple clouds, clearly visible when lightning flashed through them. Sharp, jagged bursts of white seemed to carve through the night sky, and purple shadows lingered for a few seconds after each new sparking light.

By ten that night, there were maybe twenty seconds between each flash. Then, ten. Five. One.

Then, no break at all.

The lightning split from the sky, from the clouds, and it struck Destiny City.

The light was constant, blinding, and then–

Darkness.

The lightning had not only split the sky, it had torn open a hole in the fabric of reality along the way–

And it sent a few people tumbling through it:

General King Faustite, Corrupted Eternal Sailor Heliodor, General Benitoite, General Chalcanthite, General Aquamarine, General King Jet, Eternal Sailor Murikabushi, Transcended Eternal Sailor Kerberos, Super Sailor Solaris, and Transcended Eternal Sailor Encke.

The room they arrived in was in stark contrast to bright, humid Destiny City. It was dark and dry, but it was cold, and the same suffocating air felt like it was closing in on them. There was an overwhelming energy signature, and though its power was prominent there was little else to decipher from it.

There were no other energy signatures–not theirs, or each other's. It was too dark to see anything when they first arrived but the ground and walls were icy stone and the sounds of their arrival echoed. The room smelled stale but not necessarily unpleasant.

Wherever they were was simply untouched, and had been for quite some time.

Somewhere far away, a strange wind whistled.

“Well, it’s not the worst way I’ve ever ended up on my knees,” Muri quipped out into the darkness without remotely pausing to consider whether or not that was a good idea.

On the list of things that made a b***h (Muri) feel distinctly uneasy, crash-landing into some unknown location where he could hardly see anything ranked……not quite around the middle? Higher than normal discomforting situations like forgetting someone else’s name when they remembered his, but lower than getting called out in stereo about how it was hypocritical as ******** on his part to insist that Faustite manhandling his starseed in a busy combat situation was super fine actually because Muri had lived, when he never would have let someone else say the same. Still, the sense of unknown power overwhelming Muri’s aura senses, and the fact that he could barely see Kerberos beside him, left Muri’s nerves itching with anxiety.

Hence, the impulse to be snarky without knowing who or what could hypothetically hear him.

Kerberos, at least, was easy to find. They’d been together near his bench in North End Park when everything had gone a bit tits up. Made sense, then, that Muri didn’t need to struggle or look too far to find his friend as his eyes slowly started adjusting to the darkness around them. Rocking back—so that he was sitting seiza, rather than doubled over and bracing himself with his palms on the cold, hard floor—Murikabushi kept focused on his friend, on the current source of more or less stability-adjacent feelings in an uncertain and potentially volatile situation. Paying so much attention to Kerberos, though, soon made Murikabushi frown. Offhand, he couldn’t say if Kerberos was or wasn’t injured, not without more evidence that showed or spoke to how Kerberos felt after that unexpected trip and rough landing. Yet, all the same……

“Blossom,” Murikabushi said, lowering his voice somewhat, “the ******** is up with your sparkly glowies?”

Insofar as the marks of Kerberos’s Transcendence could so be called at the moment, when they neither glowed nor sparkled. Rather than clearly showcasing how much Kerberos had made his home-world love him, they looked no different from his normal tattoos—which really didn’t help ease Muri’s nerves about the situation.

Looking away from Kerberos, Murikabushi found his eyes drawn to Faustite next, which almost made him roll his eyes at how predictable he was. He’d probably get some kind of earful about it later, from Yuki when he heard about this if not from Kerberos, who was already here to witness everything that might or might not happen. Under normal circumstances, Murikabushi might have tried to point out that Faustite was literally on fire as a means of getting out of criticism for his extremely questionable taste and how much arguable bullshit he tolerated from Faustite (for example, the choice to rough-manhandle Muri’s starseed in a volatile combat situation, which Yuki had yet to calm down about). At the moment, though, something seemed distinctly off about Faustite’s flames.

Sure, they still existed more or less normally, as far as Murikabushi could tell. But they didn’t feel nearly as bright as they usually did in the middle of darkness. Hardly anything was illuminated, and even with his eyes getting more used to where they’d all found themselves, Muri couldn’t tell very much about where they were or who else was here from Faustite’s flames.

His sense of smell was giving him what felt like the best clue, at the moment, and even that didn’t really count for much. Taking a deep breath filled Murikabushi with a strange sensation. Distantly, it reminded him of Kyoto—or, more specifically, of his maternal family’s estate with its old rooms full of old curiosities, eons of unspoken histories lurking around every corner, waiting to catch you off your guard because talking about them would’ve been impolite, so nobody could prepare themselves for anything. Further specifically, Murikabushi felt the same poignant heaviness he’d always felt when, prior to purifying and losing all official right to access that place, managing to find some room or other at the estate that no one had wanted him to find. Like the room with all the letters his grandparents had traded while young, horny, separated by circumstances, and generally acting like the complete opposite of the prim, proper, perfectly composed public image that his grandmother had cultivated for them.

Somewhere old and probably untouched, then. Very possibly somewhere that nobody was meant to be (though that was, admittedly, just based on Murikabushi projecting his own feelings onto the situation, and as with most instances of him doing so, there was likely a good chance that he was wrong). But if Muri was right, then he and Kerberos had found themselves here with at least one agent of the Negaverse. While Muri couldn’t feel any other auras—he couldn’t feel any magic aside from the overwhelming presence that, as yet, didn’t feel like Order, Chaos, or anything but powerful—it seemed irresponsible and silly to think that nobody else was here.

“Who all’s here,” Murikabushi spoke into the darkness, his tone earnest and concerned as he pushed himself up to his feet. They’d all have to deal with each other sooner or later, he figured. Better to approach the situation with an open mind, in good faith, and a willingness to cooperate regardless of who all was here. “Is everyone alright after that? Is anybody hurt?”

Not that Muri could actually do anything to help them if they were, given his total lack of healing magic. Still, if Faustite was here, then there might have been other Negas around as well. Maybe expressing genuine concern for their wellbeing would help show that Muri didn’t have any ill intentions or blame them for the situation. The possibility that they might have had something to do with this did occur to him, but he banished the thought, intent on ignoring it because unfairly casting aspersions wouldn’t help anybody right now.

It hadn’t looked good out, something that had him on edge not just for his own patrol but for any of the lieutenants on his team if they were out tonight. Partway through Chalcanthite pulled his tablet to let his team know to be careful if they were out, letting them know it was better to be safe than to meet quota this evening.

When the strikes of lightning came more rapidly, he thought to let his fiance know that he’d be turning in early. But then something had happened and he didn’t have any time to really process it before he found himself surrounded in darkness.

The first knee-jerk response was to reach out to Liam through the earring but it didn’t feel the same, nothing felt the same. It was like he was cut off and the thought didn’t settle with him very well even as he heard at least two recognizable voices. Was one of them the hostage? That senshi he could remember being nearby Faustite at some point during that mission at the house? Maybe he could make out a few others but it wasn’t easy with how dark it was and he knew it took more time than he liked for his eyes to adjust.

But he couldn’t feel any signatures and more troubling was the fact he couldn’t call for Voce or his bow. It was oppressive in here, that other energy source, but it wasn’t one he could recognize.

Staying with his back against one of the walls, he thought for a moment before speaking up.

“Disoriented but otherwise fine. Just a captain, I was on my way home truth be told.” He wasn’t quite ready to provide a name but he was relieved that if there was an order member here, they couldn’t feel him.

There was that feeling his medallion might not work if the earrings didn’t but it wouldn’t matter for now if there wasn’t a signature to be felt. Still, he had it tucked in his breast pocket from his patrol.

Getting pulled to strange new places, Kerberos supposed, was just a fact of magical life. Sometimes, some mysterious thing needed assistance, or you got unlucky and tripped into a rip in reality, or....

Well. At least he and Murikabushi weren't alone. On the flipside, they were Not Alone in a dark place with an alarming number of Negaverse officers. And they were no longer in a storm, but the weight of humidity still seemed to bear down. And so did some strange kind of power.

He'd landed on his a**, which was not the most dignified position, but dignity could go to hell in a place like this. He narrowed his eyes at his own, glowing arms--the gloom seemed to swallow the light from his Transcendence markings, and he could just barely make out Muri next to him, never mind anything beyond that. The darkness was complete, and beyond the weight of the air and the strange aura, it was its own kind of pressing.

There was a voice--a Captain, apparently, which meant the Negaverse was here. But hopefully, no one wanted to pick a fight. Particularly because generally, if one found themselves yote into a weird magical dimension with such a motley gathering of people from both sides, that meant something very weird was going to happen.

Especially with that lightning storm.

He remembered what he'd sene outside Almadel's museum, in those moments he'd floated in space. Remembered how uneasy it had left him. If this was connected to that....

"None of us are here on purpose, yeah?" He called into the darkness. "Think we can call a truce for the sake of figuring out what's going on?"

Aquamarine heard the other voices.

He very purposefully did not answer.

There were White Moon there. A few of them, at least, judging by the number of voices. They were the only ones stupid enough to call out, the only ones naïve enough to think their current circumstances should necessitate an immediate truce, or the appearance of one. There would be no truce, as far as Aquamarine was concerned. Nothing about a strange, dark room called for one. If he got his hands around any of their throats they’d be dead here the same as they’d’ve been dead in Destiny City. The only difference was they’d have to die slower.

One Captain responded, but he gave few other details so Aquamarine didn’t feel the need to stumble through the dark to shut him up.

He shuffled closer to Jet instead, feeling around until he located Jet’s face—and, more importantly, his ear. Aquamarine leaned close enough to whisper directly to him, conscious of his voice traveling now that he had a rough idea of their company.

“I already want to stab them all.”

Alas, a second attempt to summon his weapons offered the same results as before.

Aquamarine stepped back, urging Jet along with him, until he found a cold stone wall. He could see next to nothing in the dark and only knew where anyone was if they decided to speak out; at least with the wall at their backs no one would be able to sneak up behind them. He had no idea where they'd appeared; nothing about the room felt immediately familiar, but he thought it likely they were no longer in the city. Their weapons were missing. They couldn’t call their youma to them, couldn’t communicate via earring or tablet. Aquamarine didn’t even bother trying to teleport since it seemed unlikely that would be the one thing that actually worked.

Even as he became more aware of their numbers, Aquamarine could still only sense the one overwhelming aura. That he couldn’t even sense Jet, who should be overwhelming in his own right, unnerved him.

There! A voice he knew and to hear them call themselves a captain...how amusing. It would work, for now, since no one could see who was speaking and no one could sense what energy signatures were in this room. But Chalcanthite would be family, if his sister had her way, and so Benitoite would keep his mouth closed and not call out to the other by name. He'd look for him, search for the 'captain' but he was going to try and refraine from speaking himself.

He had an idea of which direction the voice had come from and shuffled that way, moving slowly as he gave time for himself to sense if anything was too close. He still couldn't see well, couldn't see what was in front of him, but he wanted to get close to his fellow general. He didn't know who else was here, aside from a certain general king, but he was looking to be near the one he knew well and could depend on once hit inevitably hit the fan.

He knew it wasn't smart moving about this room, not knowing what else might be in the room with them, but he took his time and took shuffling steps in case the floor was weak and couldn't hold his slight weight. He reached out every so often to check for anything within reach of him. So someone wanted a truce...how interesting, and it wasn't a voice he knew though that didn't say a whole lot, he did wonder if it wasn't some senshi or knight. It sounded like something one of them might very well say, he didn't know any officers or corrupt senshi who would say such a thing.

While working together might be a good idea, as it might benefit them all, he didn't see that as happening. He could see how it might be a good idea up front but he also knew it would fail, he wasn't interested in working with order really himself. If he wasn't interested in it he doubted other officers would be either, especially a certain general king. Now if only someone, or something, would turn on the lights and they could all see each other...and whatever enclosure they were in.

In the darkness, Jet snaked his arm around Aquamarine’s waist when he moved closer. Close enough to lean up to Jet’s ear and whisper his bloodlust desires. Jet couldn’t quite help the small smirk that tugged at his lip. He gave Aquamarine a squeeze of… approval? Reassurance? Whatever Aquamarine wanted it to mean, really.

While Jet was still guarded and cautious in the face of the unknown, he had confidence in his and Aquamarine’s abilities, if no one else.

There were obviously others there. A voice he recognized as Heliodor spoke out through the silence. The company Heliodor kept (Faustite) likely fed his boldness.

It didn’t seem as though everyone (Encke) agreed to a truce. Some were clearly more on edge than others, and for good reason. Some of them had more reason to be afraid.

“It’s okay!” he called out into the darkness, his voice soft and clearly with the intention of easing any confusion or upset. “You’re right. It seems as though none of us are here on purpose. We can figure things out and return home. We can help each other with teleporting back, too. That’s an excellent idea,” he said in response to the two who had called out to the others (Kerberos and Solaris).

Under the shroud of darkness, he pressed his hand against Aquamarine’s chest. There was a slight give, where his fingers pressed into him. Just for a few moments. Just testing the limits. It was more difficult than normal but… when he pulled his hand back he gave Aquamarine’s chest a gentle, affectionate pat.

“We should all gather closer, just to be safe. When we escape, it should be together,” he offered warmly, straining his ears for any response. And the location of the response.

Most of the voices Muri could hear, besides his own and Kerb’s, he either didn’t recognize (Solaris, Chalcanthite) or didn’t mind (Heliodor). What he did mind, however, was how quickly the ranks of the Negas were adding up. Faustite and Heliodor would probably vouch for him at least—or anyway, Muri really hoped that they would, after Muri had done what he could, first to help Tama last summer and then to help Heliodor back in December—but there wasn’t any guarantee that people would listen.

In addition to those two, there was the self-professed Captain (who apparently just wanted to go home, which was a #Mood), and for all Muri knew, very possibly the first person who’d called out to agree to Kerberos’s truce (Solaris). However many people were hypothetically here but not speaking, all of them might well have been with the Negaverse. (Maybe a Mirror senshi had snuck in too, but statistically, Muri doubted it. Plus, if any of them had, there wasn’t really reason to fear. Plus, most of them would’ve either cooperated by way of following the path of least resistance—Muri thought of Remarque, and how he had kids to get home to, and would never abandon them to be stuck in this place until TBD o’clock—or sat on the sidelines to eat popcorn and be obnoxiously unhelpful.)

But then came the second voice agreeing to a truce, and……oh.

Oh, no.

In the back of his mind, Muri felt a twist of relief that (hopefully) nobody could see him cringe as he realized that Jet was here with them.

Which he did feel guilty about (both the expression and the relief), since in his own personal experience? Muri had only known Jet to be intelligent, reasonable, devoted to his work, and (at least ostensibly) deeply concerned with the mission of intra-Negaverse harm-reduction, trying to prevent junior officers and senshi who probably looked up to him from being exploited and abused like Faustite and Kerberos had both been. Maybe it had only been the one conversation, but Jet had left a distinctly positive impression. He seemed, to Murikabushi, like the sort of leader whom the Negaverse needed. He could only hope that the other General-Sovereigns and the Witch Queen of Rift-Space (or whoever she thought she was) would see that and reward Jet with a promotion to General-Sovereign like Faustite had gotten.

(Murikabushi didn’t know how General-Sovereign promotions worked aside from what had gone down for Faustite. Or who the General-Sovereigns actually were other than Faustite. He just felt like Jet probably would have made a good one.)

One problem: all of Muri’s experience with Jet had happened when he’d still been with the Mirror.

Without really thinking about the present circumstances—beyond a brief thought that he didn’t mind if Faustite hypothetically saw anything (if anything, Faustite might have been glad for Muri displaying a semblance of self-preservation instinct)—Muri edged closer to Kerberos and started moving his hands through different Signs. All of them circled around the general point of “Look, I trust Jet to be reasonable but that doesn’t mean I’m not afraid”……and all of them were about as useful as a bicycle to a deep sea jellyfish.

Only after a moment, when Muri realized that he could barely see his own hands, did he remember that Kerberos probably couldn’t either.…… Also, he didn’t know if Kerberos actually knew any ASL (and considering Muri had learned primarily for the sake of helping make his old family-friendly drag shows more accessible to (D/d)eaf kids, there was a not insignificant chance that at least some of his Signs had been muddled).

Trying to push into his subspace for a little notebook, Muri quickly abandoned. That idea wasn’t idea-ing tonight—or at least, the effort that subspace wanted in order to pry it open felt like more than Muri wanted to spend on such a task—and……right. Reading in the middle of Advanced Darkness™ like this. Probably not the most happening thing.

Finally, he worked himself around to the idea of using his senshi phone. Letting his inner monologue drift away from coherent thoughts and into Chappell Roan lyrics, Murikabushi pulled up his ongoing chat with Kerberos (the most recent message being a photo he’d sent Blossom of some more technicolor teacup pigs he’d found up on his home-world, these ones taking naps inside of literal teacups). After tapping out one message, Murikabushi hit the button to send it……and nothing happened.

Great. So they were in some messed up and probably deeply unfabulous Hell-pit and they couldn’t even text each other to avoid exorcising messy feelings in ways that might have jeopardized the truce being discussed. Time then, Muri supposed, to write down all of said feelings and to then hand Kerberos his phone.


While the light from Muri’s phone follows the same lighting rules as listed above (dimmer than normal, doesn’t illuminate very much, etc.), other characters can still notice it in the darkness!