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Laurelite watched, taking in Warhol and Umber with an intensity barely hidden behind her smile. Her eyes lingered on Umber for a moment longer and she said, "When this is all over, rest." It was not a suggestion. "You tempt fate to attack the enemy when you are in such a state. I would be most distressed if we lost you to a senshi. You are too valuable to let fall so easily."

Her attention then moved to the senshi he had propped up.

"And you, dear. A murderer? You have such a sweet face, though."

Laurelite reached out to brush her hand across the girl's cheek. "But if a murderer you want to be, a murderer you shall be. I can blame no one for devotion to their cause. I can however, assure you that you will work twice as hard in retribution for the two lives you took. We will not let their sacrifices be in vain. Nor yours, Warhol."

Her hand moved from the girl's cheek down to her chest, resting only inches away from her starseed. "Because you have made such a grave mistake in taking the lives of my soldiers, I will not ask if this is the path you wish to take. I will make this decision for you, and you will appreciate it. You will learn from your mistakes and I will teach you what it means to be truly great."

Her hand plunged into the girl's chest, and she gripped the starseed fiercely as she pushed a surge of pure Chaos into her.

Though Laurelite was a compassionate soul, she was an Agent of Metallia all the same. If this senshi murdered to Lieutenants, then she had great potential, and Laurelite would see that she reached her fullest. The Negaverse had little need for weak soldiers, but a strong one?

They could always use a few more of those.

"Apologies, General-Queen." Umber blinked twice, taken aback by the remark handed down by his superior. He knew to an extent that he placed his own life in danger by running himself ragged, but not the specifics. 'Valuable' was accepted as a qualifier that fit all captains for the responsibilities they endured in the Negaverse.

He himself felt the chaos immediately - the first pulse met the edges of his fingers in a brilliant crackle that sped his heart. The energy mutilated the sickly aura she possessed, converting it into something far more palatable to both their senses. He offered no objections while she refrained to scream. Beneath the moonlight, it felt like nothing more than yet another star winking out from the vast sky. And, perhaps, that's all that it amounted to. But the intensity of it, as close as he was to the change, burned him by every point of contact he had with the senshi he held. And by the time that energy wicked away, leaving a blackened uniform and billowing hair that poured over Umber's arms, his skin still prickled and sparked with the sheer force of energy in his close proximity.

Laurelite's words hardly registered to him until after Warhol lay corrupted in his arms. He wondered, briefly, if Warhol would receive the same treatment as his brother. He wondered if she, too, would stay many nights in a cell until they could bring her up to speed.

No, for she was an enemy repurposed, and not a traitor.

The dead weight was hefted into a bridal-style carry, though no matter of puzzling over how best to hold her would keep the long, trailing hair from brushing against the ground. From prior corruptions he learned the necessity to show bare minimum respect for new allies, despite their treacherous past - he begrudged the task, but he bore it. Umber looked to Laurelite, for the first time in many nights finally not tired, and gave a nod. "I'll see that she has a place to recover. Thank you, General-Queen." At least it struck one soldier from their enemy's ranks.