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Jarosite is on the stairs between the second and third floors

"ARE YOU SHITTING ME RIGHT NOW?!" he hadn't exactly meant to say that outloud, as Serp's voice came over the crystal. He'd been, deceived this whole <******** time because someone wanted to open a second rift!? By the Rift the hell was going on with his own side?! He snapped his head back down the stairs, turning, and snarled, fully ready to teleport his a** down there and slam his boots into that knaiving, traitorous, zeolot a*****e of a general.

He gave a glance at the Lt next to him and spat something about "Get your a** out of here" just as someone grabbed the back of his coat and yanked him out of the stairwell. And towards the flames.

"ARE YOU ******** MENTAL!?" he yelled, stumbling half a dozen steps back before slamming his elbow into Themiscrya's ribs. He turned, silver eyes hard and full of anger. He grabbed her by the leather tunic and held her up (as best he could with the Uranus page holding on to her who he only noticed after the fact), fully ready to slam a fist into her chest and just end her now. "There is a god damn second rift being opened downstairs and YOU'RE. WORRIED. ABOUT. ME?! " His voice rose, and he bared his teeth at her. This little b***h was going to get herself killed simply because she had it out for him. Because she was delusional, because she was a righteous whore who thought being a knight of Mars meant something.

Mars was the god of fire, wasn't he? Perhaps she should burn instead.

It was at that moment, as he was contemplating throwing her into the flames, that a huge aura of power erupted from the basement and he caught the barest glimpse of a rainbow outside the window.

Searing pain surged through his starseed and he dropped her with a gasp. He clutched his chest and crumpled to his knees. The hell, the hell was this. It never felt like this when he'd been raised to the next level, or when he'd been corrupted those years ago. It was hot, it burned and it felt like he was going to die, here and now.

He gasped again, glaring up at Themiscrya. Damn b***h... now she had the upper hand...





---
Bifrost is on the third floor

Bifrost followed after them, unweaving her right chain gauntlet. The chain whip dangled by her side, and she folded it up in her hands to keep from tripping herself or anyone else with it. When they spilled out onto the third floor, her eyes widened. Just what were they trying to do!? She watched officers scramble around, all targetting one person in the middle. She saw DMC run around. Everyone was yelling.

Then there was Iris in the middle, who went Princess and suddenly she felt loads better. Bifrost wormed her way in front of Virgo and Neso and held her chain whip in front of her, in a horizontal line. She figured Babylon could fend for himself.

'If your magic can work from here, I can create a barrier to keep them off of us for a while. Or, I can use it to help evacuate people. Just tell me where you want me, Miss Virgo." The words of power that created her shield was on the tip of her tongue.

Virgo only need tell her to use it.

Auriga is on the third floor.

The hands around her wrists brought Auriga down on the ground immediately, falling in a heap on top of Cyllene. She took the opportunity when the acid senshi recoiled to land a heel kick to her ribs. "If you're purified, maybe! But you're evil! YOU'RE the bad guy!" She brought her other booted foot up and brought down another kick, aiming for the heel.

There were 1000 questions in her head. Why didn't Ganymede attack her? This was one of those dark people, the ones with black starseeds, the ones that they couldn't be friends with. "You can try to trick other people with your pretty words, but I know better. Your soul is black." Auriga spoke the words with such emphasis that she spit a little (gross).

Crawling to her knees, Auriga felt a sudden coolness rush over her. Her tired limb softened. It was like something was healing her? Weird! She took the opportunity of Cyllene's state to take advantage of her. With a firm grasp, she pulled the bare flesh on the girl's arm to her mouth and bit her. It was gross -- her skin tasted like sweat -- but it was the only way that she could spread her attack.

The world around him blurred with activity, far beyond the quick recognition intrinsic to a general.

The first announcement of his name in tones of an executioner came with a voice far too familiar to Bischofite - one learnt in captaincy, memorized as a lieutenant and sought as a general. Thraen, he thought in immediate response, as his gaze tracked the eternal sprinting toward him at a dangerous clip.Gold eyes narrowed, breathless; the time spent on his approach spanned lesser than what cost him to draw a gasp. In a rare boon of fortune and shift of stance, Thraen's collision course with the general met the newly-rendered blonde within his grasp.

She shrieked as all did when lives came under threat, and it felt fairly routine to Bschofite. His hand slipped past blood and bone easily enough, a practiced trait now second nature to one who only dreamt of such occurrences a year ago. He only offered a grin in response. "Must we test your instincts so, cat? You needn't react so abhorrently toward loss of life - 'for deas' is no more zan a turning of us over from time to eternity. An inevitability." His grip tightened on the pulsing starseed in his hand, warmth embedding itself in his grasp, before a sharp shock to his side jolted him off-kilter.

Buschofite grunted through his teeth, his hand effectively jerked free of the cat's chest. Now with starseed in hand, he rounded toward his attacker - Avalon. Those among us are impassioned for reasons of defense: threats to the home, the family, the constancy pervading their lives. The Negaverse... It's a tool for maintaining the earth prior to the advent of senshi. I don't belong here. Her anger rang clear, concise as the crippling throb that pervaded his side. Soon another fist sought his face, one narrowly blocked with the body of the human-feline whose starseed was separated from her body.

But more soon came upon him, and Bischofite found little more to discourage the continued assault by the White Moon than to toss Cora's starseed just beyond the crowd. I can't deal with them. In moments I'll die at their hands. If I can just ward them off a little longer...

And Leto. There she stood, laughing - mocking him for his abject failures, in typical fashion of half-measures. As always, the Dark Mirror render themselves impotent to action. Leto, have you seen drive before? Have you seen passion? I could've shown you the meaning of the words, far beyond what lengths I wrought for this slim chance to bring the Rift to this plane. But... Feverish gold eyes met red, and Bischofite offered a snarl half-born from panic tied with exhaustion. "I would die for zis cause, Leto! Ze beginnings of ze rift built upon my corpse is a wors'y price to pay for my efforts!"

But Thraen called a familiar phrase, one met with the seething memories burnt as fingers into the flesh of his throat. Wings spread, flanking his larynx, each traced in black ruts from fingernails in a time long passed. He drew a heavy breath toward the end of the phrase, just before flowers bloomed beneath his feet.

Then came the vines.

Bischofite memorized the magic from countless nights of rumination, and a chakram aimed toward the thick of a vine severed it from its potential grasp. Yet, as a pastel green senshi (Cybele) rained strange light down on Thraen and Cora, the distraction proved enough for a single vine to catch hold of his ankle. He only truly registered its grasp when a redheaded senshi (Penthesilea) recognized from the meeting against the Dark Mirror approached with a loosed attack of her own.

All attempts to recoil in a dodge met with impervious resistance from the plant. s**t, he cursed inwardly, watching in steeled anticipation as the red-rendered broadsword swung directly for him. The force of the blade struck through his core, rending flesh without so much as spilling blood. While the general bit back a yelp of agony, a quick glance down revealed no clothing shredded, no injury incurred - no damage beyond pain relayed through his nervous system. Senshi magic... Nothing more than a deterrent. Half-measures.

Distantly he recognized Persephone's voice, but paid it little heed beyond Avalon who stood nearest, wielding a sword with the intent to kill. Persephone reigned queen of inaction - a negligible threat among a throng of malice.

The lights grew bright, and for the moment Bischofite suspected the roof finally caved beneath the weight of twisting flame. Yet, in his peripherals, every color recognizable arced over his head - a harbinger of a roiling ache that burst from his starseed to an initially paralyzing extent, earning a harsh groan from the general who now sustained significant mental wear from pain alone. No words found freedom from his throat anymore; between the myriad of mixed auric energies bearing down on him and the pressing need to defend Malicious, Bischofite managed nothing more than meager attempts to hold his own against a force far greater than he.

"Almost done..." Malicious hummed aloud, mostly to herself. Finally she absorbed the last of the energy in the once brimming crystals. Now she stood practically glowing with borrowed vibrance, every fiber of her body burning with the presence of energy far beyond her capacity. Now she need only bide her time...

And what better way than to sever the last of her general's desperate ties to hope?

"I'm finished, General. Don't you see the energies from the Rift wafting through our little abode here? Don't you feel the call of youma? Don't you see the cliffs rising in the distance? No? Oh, that's too bad." Smiling, she pressed a finger to her lower lip. "The truth is, General, no one knows how to bring the Rift to this earth. No one can coax the crystals up through the ground. All this talk of using crystals to power some medieval ritual like batteries... I'm surprised you bought it. Surprised, but delighted." An echo of a laugh passed through her lips as silvery eyes focused on his deteriorating form.

"Now, be a dear and die, will you?" And her prayers found fruition in the form of a rainbow, though its span beyond the youma's lithe form brought a pain so great and crippling she knew she would've perished without the presence of superfluous energy. The shriek loosed from the myriad of mouths dotting her back both curdled blood and petrified the bones of those not yet exposed to the deep horrors of the earth.

In the back of her mind, Leda knew she held no more attacks to her name. Her mind spoke of exhaustion, her limbs weary from countless battles incurred earlier that night. The pot hung as a lead weight in her hand, though she readied with the last of her strength. Maybe it was foolish to go down this road, to try to stop the general that claimed the life of that older woman some time ago, but... Ever since that night, Leda lost her purpose.

Her only measure of grace was the thin, jaundiced light through the storms, provided by revenge alone. or was it? Could she call it justice when she was so far wrapped up in the man's potential demise?

No.

Leda knew she couldn't kill him - didn't want to, didn't need another death on her hands. But what, then? Why did this obsession with tracking him down crawl under her skin? "You killed her!" She shouted above the din. "You tried to steal her energy away, and then you killed her for nothing!" And the senselessness behind that alone was enough. To know that a wholly unnecessary death occurred before her eyes... She yearned to right it far more than the cacophony surrounding her, the talk of portals and rifts and matters so far beyond her comprehension that it faded as white noise to her tunnel vision.

Inwardly she recognized she couldn't win this fight. But even as Nemesis said some time ago... the fact that she still tries is enough. Her effort meant something in the end. Maybe it was stupid of her to consider the battle a loss before it even began, but she wasn't sure what else to think. Her mind swirled with a mix of memories and emotions, and her grip on the pot faltered with a shudder born from exhaustion.

Still, she had to try.

Finally Leda set off toward the general at a sprint, pot poised over her shoulder just before she swung in a great arc toward the general's face.

Virgo is on the bottom floor!

Virgo mostly didn't punch Neso in the arm for his bawdy comment because she was too busy trying to make sure no one got hurt on their trip down the stairs. Once they surfaced into the much-cooler, substantially less engulfed-by-flame area of the lowest floor of the warehouse, however, she had to take a moment to be calm. Babylon's words washed over her like so much noise as she handed the lantern she'd been carrying back to him, and she thought: How am I supposed to protect them all?

She was the Guard, and protecting them was her duty. A thousand years ago and millions of miles away, she had been born for that express purpose: dying for the sake of the galaxy. No Zodiac lived to old age. But there were too many, and the allies she had on hand were not warriors. Neso was, at best, a meat shield, a waste of his abilities. Bifrost was, like Virgo, a literal shield. She took a deep breath, noticed it came easier than it had only moments ago, and--there was a Princess, channeling something. Of course. Virgo missed Chronos, bitterly.

No time to focus on that. "Bifrost," she said, ignoring--for the moment--Neso's dramatics. "People will come this way. If you see anything, anything, flying towards you, Neso, or Babylon, use your shield." She caught sight of a familiar head of green hair, flashed back to the park on a clear starlit light, and felt--betrayed. "If you need further protection, shout," she said, rounding the Squire. She was small, and it let her duck through the chaos, ignoring senshi that looked like those who had advocated shattering the mirrors on the Surrounding years ago, the arrows of Negaverse agents and the shouting. Just as the vines began to fade away, Virgo grabbed her and hauled her away.

Persephone's eyes were just opening when Virgo slammed her against the nearest vertical surface--a high stack of pallets. "You said you weren't like them," she said, "You promised me that you didn't want to fight!" Never trust the Negaverse, never never never. The back of Virgo's head, where the memories of her first awakening at the grand old age of twelve rested, replayed for her the scene of Chronos tied to a chair, a bomb ticking merrily beneath her feet. Her princess begging them to run, and how Virgo had not been fast enough to save Chronos or Aly.

"You owe me an explanation," she said, slamming Persephone against the pallets and boxes again. "Explain!"

Chalcanthite was filled with excitement as his arrow hit his target (Thraen), stopping the progression of the senshi towards Bischofite. He scanned the senshi as he spoke, taking notes mentally of the magic used. Being above the floor was seeming to give him a large advantage as nobody had manage to notice him or attempt to use the magic against him. So much chaos was going on though, it disgusted him and fueled the fire to find answers. It was then that he saw Leda being approached by one of the Generals, he worried about her but he would have to plan how after trying to make sense of all the fighting and magic going around.

It was then that he notice a pain in his chest as well as one of the senshi transforming into a different outfit (Iris). She had to be the cause of the pain and so he let her be the target of his next arrow before he doubled over carefully as to avoid falling to the cold concrete floor below. If she did not dodge it, it would likely hit her in the knee or shin. If he could just stop the burning pain in his starseed, maybe he could get a plan in motion. Especially since Bischofite was quickly being surrounded. He would have to try and teleport the crazed general out of the building or he may not last against the mob who wanted to harm him or even kill him perhaps. That youma near him was making some sort of hellish noise that almost made him cringe just on its own. If he could find an opening, he would make his way down there next to get Bischofite out and maybe come back for Leda after. He was torn though, between who he could get out of there and who may not make it out of there without assistance. He would fire at the senshi who was charging at Bischofite after, even if he could draw his bow right now. There was no way he could take a clear shot at the moving senshi with this pain.

Avalon is exactly where you think she is!!

The Princess's magic ******** hurt, but she could ignore it--for the cause, for the Lieutenants and corrupted senshi whom Bischofite chose to sacrifice. Even if it never would have come to pass, he had known, and that made him too untrustworthy for her to ever be comfortable working alongside. Let Zinkenite punish her if he had to; Avalon simply did not care. Her actions were defensible. She would not accept any punishment that the General-King cared to offer. He could try. Avalon would only laugh in his face.

The chakram thrown by Bischofite sliced along Avalon's outer thigh, ripping a hole in her coat and the uniform blouse beneath it. It was a clean pain, though, one that gave her something better to concentrate on than the pain emanating out from her starseed; and it was that clean pain that let her recognize that Bischofite was down on his knees.

She hefted the obsidian sword in her hand, and drove it down two-handed into Bischofite's back, twisted the blade. He wouldn't get up from this, she hoped. He couldn't.