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Charonite kicked the comatose child to roll over into the gutter, and knelt beside his Lieutenant instead. He grasped Hematite's wrist, which made Hematite's balancing act even more impressive than before, and said: "Get it tight in your fingers. Don't let go, not even ******** once. Focus. Focus on everything I god damn do. You're the conductor here -- and remember what this feels like."

His hand closed around Hematite's wrist more firmly. It all looked a little ridiculous (and was probably a good workout for muscle groups of Hematite that he previously hadn't really known existed). His brow furrowed: and then, suddenly, black ripples arced down from his hand to Hematite's wrist to Hematite's palm to Hematite's fingers and it was electric.

The star seed had previously sparkled in his grip like static, but now he was pumping something else into it. The energy coursed from Charonite into Hematite's hand, oily and overwhelming, and his fingers involuntarily squeezed over the starseed -- pumped everything he could into it. Tisiphone's fair skin suddenly turned glassy and transparent, shining; a pale, shining apple green colour, shining out from within her, as though it was her entire make-up showing itself to the two of them. And there was black seepage from Hematite's hand moving up -- moving through her, with black steamy wisps coming from where his hand was dug into her ribcage.

The black was spread out all over her, devouring the green. And he could feel the starseed falter, then change.

When the black had swallowed her whole -- ending in a point at her forehead where the black star mark was -- the world was suddenly a blizzard of black feathers, settling everywhere, peeling off what had previously been Sailor Tisiphone. There was now a girl in a short black frock, pale hair spread out underneath her like a blanket, and she reeked so much of Negaverse energy it was almost overpowering.



Charonite slid Hematite's hand out of her chest. It closed up, leaving a ripped-out mark in her bodice.

"Finally," he said. "You did something ******** right."

A short nod was about the only response Hematite could give without losing his grip or accidentally yanking the star seed out. He tried to stay steady, even with the addition of one more obstacle in the way of doing so. Charonite was grabbing his wrist? He didn't need to be shown how to remove a star seed! What the-

Hematite had always been aware that Charonite had power. But power was a vague concept, something seemingly acknowledged without a careful glance. Power over his lieutenants, authoritative or brute force power? Power like a force of nature, like the senshi wielded? Apparently, power was both. It was like Hematite had been jolted with a live wire. He looked down and saw the dark energy coursing over the little of his hand was visible. His fingers spasmed involuntarily, clenching the star seed as though to crush it. Squeezing any tighter would cut his fingers to ribbons. But his fingers survived - something else was happening. The energy was seeping into the star seed.

The green light of Tisiphone in her struggle against the corruption lit everything around her in a sickly glow. Dimmer and dimmer it grew while Hematite looked on. The black energy seemed to be drowning it and eating away at the shimmering form until it was like looking into a humanoid pool of oil. The lieutenant paid no heed to the smoke that licked at his arm, watching as the senshi lost not just the fight, but her purity. And it was so easy.

It was the nameless thing he'd always wanted, finally given form. Hematite craved authority. The universe owed it to him, as far as he was concerned; he'd suffered plenty under Charonite's rule and long imagined himself more capable of keeping the Negaverse in line, despite having no real proof of it (Hematite generally didn't do enough overall for his ability to be measured in anything but potential energy). And then there was getting the chance to take Charonite down a peg or ten that certainly didn't hurt. It was about the control, the knowledge, the careful clockwork of human reaction laid bare only to those who bore the right title and carried the right weapon. He wanted to be respected and unchallenged, to be free of the fear that there would always come another harsh word or action directed at him. But for the longest time he did not know what it was he wanted as anything but an abstract. Revenge against those who wronged him? In retrospect, that goal he'd followed for a year was such a petty dream in comparison to this. With something, anything like the dark energy he was being graced with the chance to wield here, there would not need to be revenge. He would stop betrayal before it ever began.

This was power. Hell, this was worth following orders if he had any chance at such power for himself. Was that why Charonite had told him to remember this? That b*****d. Hematite knew he'd never be able to forget. Maybe he really did owe Charonite for something, though not everything. That was just an exaggeration.

The burst of feathers surprised Hematite, but still he couldn't move. They were raking across his face and he had to squeeze his eyes shut. He felt something hit him in the leg, but it didn't seem focused enough to do anything more than confuse. Tisiphone looked... different. She felt different - exuding that magical energy he'd helped to funnel into her heart. Hematite night never have let go had Charonite not pulled his hand away.

"You make it sound like you doubted I could, sir," he joked, tentatively, a nervous smile on his face. There was too much to take in. He'd won. He'd won everything. Even that most elusive of beasts, a not-entirely-contemptuous remark form the General-King. It was surreal.