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Lieutenant Marcasite

Her calf hurt, blood seeping from the bite marks for a good chunk of the trek back to the castle. It had, at some point, stopped bleeding and the stain of red was nearly invisible against the dark of her pants. Still, she let Xenotime support her because she knew resisting would cause more trouble than it was worth.

They both sustained injuries in the fight but they were still standing and strong.

Marcasite hoped that they'd be able to celebrate a little after, if their mistress didn't have more for them to do. Of course, like all the rest, she was curious what all these pieces had to do with one another.

A ritual would be commencing, that much was clear but what did it mean?

Her grip on Xenotime seemed to tighten with anticipation.

Lieutenant Reinerite

Hydra had been followed by a woman with blue-black hair (Moonstone) carrying a crystalline bone.

The woman looked like kind of like she had been through the wars, however she approached the alter in silence and left the bone neatly down next to the crystal that Hydra had set down prior, its purple glow a contrast to the crystal's starlight sparkle her words to Metallia respectful before she stepped away.

Next and last to approach had been a pair, a pink-haired woman (Serandite) and a blond haired man (Amethyst), with the blond carrying a box in his gloved hands.

The box was carefully set down next to the other items and then the pair too stepped backwards to rejoin those gathered to wait.

Standing where she was, Reinerite was close enough to hear the man with the dark-grey hair's (Bloodstone) quiet exchange with Hydra and whilst she didn't verbalise anything, Reinerite did shift her position slightly, stepping forward deliberately far enough that her new position somewhat blocked the view of anyone looking in the two's general direction.

She continued to look forward towards the stone and to Metallia as she waited to see what the Shadow Lady would do now that all the items were on the stone - well at least she was assuming that all the items were on the stone given that no one else had stepped forward.

Lieutenant Prehnite

Quietly following in behind the rest, content to hang back and watch the goings on from a distance. It was interesting to see what the gathered items actually looked like, and he was more than happy to see someone else handing them over. The spotlight was no place he wanted to find himself in, especially not with Metallias shadowy figure watching. The seeming tangibility of the shadows eerie enough without the added weight of 'her' excited energy filling the room. The look of the alters combined with the items placed atop them didn't inspire joy in him, so much as it did caution. Sacrificial magicy looking things were not, ever, going to be on his 'good vibes' list.

Still he was proud that they'd managed to retrieve everything, hopefully with only a small loss. No loss would have been best, but...the Rift was what it was. He felt they were lucky to have gotten in and out with as few injuries as they had, and could only hope the other two groups had fared better than the group that went out into the graveyard.

Captain Quartz

Quartz expressed no pleasure or enthusiasm at being given this new mission by Schörl. It was a task, a job, an order -- and he had no option of refusing. He simply said, "I'll look into it," to acknowledge that he'd heard her command -- then waited, tense, as the general slipped her hand around his waist and teleported the three of them back to where Metallia waited.

He didn't apolologize for the remnants of paint that she might have gotten on her clothes in doing so. He didn't thank her for expending her energy to move the three of them. Quartz was not a full person, a peer, an independent being -- so he didn't have to be sorry or grateful. He just had to be obedient to the best of his ability. He just had to be more useful to her alive and human than he was dead or a youma.

Despite himself, Quartz's attention was caught by Ceraskia, holding the starseed Schörl had given her in his hand. He remembered his own training -- so much harsher in his eyes, so much less indulgent -- and stared at her as she seemed to spare scarcely any contemplation for what she was being asked to do.

Someone's eternal life shattered between Ceraskia's teeth as easily as if she were crunching down on the last of a breath mint.

For a moment, he watched her with a look of unbridled disgust on his face, and she was just like all the other women Schörl took under her wing and into her bed: brainless. Thoughtless. Unhindered by human decency.

None of them were any more human than he was, really -- but Quartz was not the same as Schörl's gaggle of sycophants, no more so than a horse might be the same as a pack of dogs.

Dogs, after all, were trained to obedience. Horses were broken to it.

Little wonder he and they never seemed to understand each other. Quartz waited with manufactured idleness until Schörl removed her hand. He raised his own two, still streaky and drying, and began wringing paint and water out of his hair, his clothes. The excess moisture made the faintest of splatters as it hit the ground.

Now they'd find out what Metallia had sent them all needlessly racing through Apatite's labyrinth to retrieve.

Captain Zircon

Zircon felt exhaustion in every bit of her, from the numb sensations in her arms to the pins and needles headache beginning to dig into her scalp, to the bruises and bumps and the smell of dust chalked up in her nose. She could feel the coming crash following the adrenaline high earned from their fight against the youma, and for the majority of their march back to Metallia she leaned into Moonstone for support, letting herself rest when she didn't see eyes on her. But tired as she was, she still felt a pleasant thrum of excitement that carried her through consciousness all the way through the rift.

They had succeeded. They had won. In the Negaverse, that was a rare and fleeting feeling to experience.

She slid off Wasgo with little ceremony and less grace, but managed to do so without falling, keeping her distance as Moonstone gave thanks to the great beast. It still felt strange to Zircon that some of the officers could keep youma as pets or even companions, but it would be pig-headed of her to not at least recognize the utility that Moonstone's had wrought in their struggles. It made her wonder what might be lurking in the Rift for her, should she take up the pursuit again.

The walk back towards the throne room felt twice as long, gruelling in its own way, but Zircon refused to relent, even as she felt her muscles ache and burn. She was so close to finishing the mission, but even still her eyes would glance over to Labyrinthite every so often, at the youma captain beside him, or to Titanlavenite standing tall over the others. It was bitter pride alone that kept her from asking for assistance--the rest of her begged for rest, even if just for a step, two steps. But there were other officers returning from their missions as well, and it would not do to seem like they had been any more taxed. She held her head high, even as she limped into the main assembly, taking note of the paint on some of the officers, the scuffs and bruises they'd brought back. If the others could look so nonplussed, then so would she.

She stayed towards the back of the group, watching with tired pride as Moonstone offered up their prize. At the right angle, she could see through the crowd as to what was going on, and if nothing else, if she had to sit down or pass out it would be out of view of the general assembly. It was reasonable thinking, if tired thinking.

Metallia's energy flashed once more, only now it seemed almost soothing. She was pleased.

"Excellent," she purred. "I could not be prouder of you."

She was not speaking to only the four in front of her, but to the group as a whole.

Her ghastly form compacted into that of a woman once more, and she reached down a cloudy hand to ghost her fingers over each of the items they offered.

"Yes. This is everything. We should have done this ages ago. I had not anticipated the need to expend so much energy in this war." She seemed to sigh, but no breath left her false lips. "So let us hasten things."

The items she had been presented with seemed to glow; the box glowed brighter than the rest until it trembled and shook and popped open.

Its contents were not immediately identifiable, but the moment the box snapped open, a very strange, familiar energy signature sparked.

Beryl.

The shattered remains of a charred, broken starseed had been locked away in the box, and hidden from the world. Where it would have remained, if times were not desperate.

The three ingredients hovered into the air.

"There is but one thing missing," Metallia said, and in another spark of Chaos energy, a shadowed figure appeared in front of the group.

They were not trying to hide who she was, and though Laurelite suffered extreme burns and scarring, she walked proud. Her body was still recovering; even with Metallia's power it had been slow and painful. Laurelite did not speak; instead, she moved towards the altar. Not quite visible to the rest of the crowd, there was a single block—a makeshift step—between the floor and the altar, and the moment she stepped on it, Metallia's dark energy collected and a pillar of Chaos, dark and swirling and sparking, shot down from the ceiling and right down to the pillar.

But Laurelite was not afraid, and steeled herself. She stepped into the pillar.

The Chaos swarmed like a cloud of purple smoke, completely obscuring the items, and Laurelite. A few seconds passed, and then the tornado of energy whirled faster, shooting sparks of dark lightning across the room and above everyone's head.

Suddenly, the smoke shot across the room, blinding everyone for but a second.

When they opened their eyes, they would see her. Healed, fully, and radiating a power befitting her rank.

Their new Queen, dark and beautiful.

General Ascendant Alkaid

The moment Metallica began to speak, Alkaid fell to silence and watched the scene unfold before her as if she were watching history being written. Her bright eyes traced the path of their broken General Queen and locked onto her as she stepped into the swirling darkness.

She was as fearless and accepting of her fate as the leaders before her had been - all of them, from the first to the last.

As the darkness parted and revealed their Queen, Alkaid felt the call deep in her tattered starseed. This was her queen, a power source that called her loyalty as effortlessly as Metallia herself. The room around her felt alive with fire, like the shadows themselves had come alive to celebrate the coronation of Laurelite.

Like the shadows around her, Alkaid shifted. The cracked plate in her leg made a screech of protest, but she lowered herself to a kneeling bow with her cape pooling in a shimmering puddle around her.

As her head bowed, a single, broken hand pressed itself above the stars end in her breast.

All hail the Queen.

Captain Raite

The feeling that these proceedings should end quickly hadn't diminished.. until he heard the sound of familiar footsteps. Lt. Raite couldn't help but jerk out of his unaffected position. He knew those footsteps. Laurelite, the general queen who had personally recruited him was coming towards the altar. She had suffered greatly -- he had heard rumors, but had been unable to confirm them for himself. Still, as long as she was alive, he would have been fine. After all, deaths of their general ings and queens reached down the grapevine quickly no matter how involved one chose to be with the negaverse.

Dread filled his being, having an inkling of suspicion, with a vague idea of what might happen. The smoke blinded him though, and he looked through slightly watery eyes. Laurelite's frame remained. At first glance, relief surged through him at the fact that her disastrous wounds were healed, but that relief was replaced by the knowledge of what it meant. He had been around when Nealite had become a vessel the last time. Anything he once knew of the young women.. was irrelevant. Her personality, her memories, her former feelings would no longer be truly hers. Even though the body and personality would resemble her original, he would never know if her intention was truly her own or influenced, or commanded by their queen.

His former feelings for the general queen, his attachment to her was responsible for the look of anguish on the Captain's face, not of victory or gladness. He should have been glad, as their ranks were filled with renewed power under the guise of their general queen, but his feelings were very conflicted.

With a bow that Raite didn't know was a facade or a truth, he slipped down to one knee with his gaze cast downwards. But his gaze quickly moved to the side where he looked over to General Obsidian; one of the few who had been there throughout Nealite's transformation. How would he feel about the rise of their queen, now in a different host..? Grateful? Or otherwise..?