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(( And another, after surviving the first. ))

The last thing that Regina Faith Hopewell could clearly remember had been the reassuring feeling of Jocelyn's hand on her shoulder. Although the other girl was younger she had a firm grasp and a solid amount of determination. She made it seem like things had a chance of being okay if only because she was there... Even if things would never ever be okay again.

That feeling was torn from Regina the moment the cries could be heard from above. Her heart stopped and for a moment she thought that would be the end of her. It wasn't, of course. It wasn't even close to the end and soon her pulse picked up, the former steady cadence speeding into a thunder in her ears and the knowledge that she had few options available to her.

The greatest of all of those; the most base instinct, given the situation, was to run.

See Regina run. Regina runs fast. Run, Regina, run.

She didn't run nearly fast enough, couldn't. Wherever she managed to duck or dart there was trouble; a skirmish going on here, a panicked civilian there. No place seemed safe. Hell, no place was safe and the movements of the Great Beast were proof of that as the road began to crumble beneath her.

This, at least, was a game that Regina had played before. The Rainbow Road had collapsed beneath their feet the first day they had arrived. Day, night, they had all run together... But she could still remember the feeling; remember the reactions. Jocelyn had been there then. Jocelyn and Amy, her unlikely friends, waiting to defend a stranger; rescue her from her stupid, clumsy self.

Regina couldn't rely on either of them now. She had run away from Jocelyn and she couldn't remember how long it had been since either of them had seen Amy. The scrawny young woman scrambled to the side as the ground beneath her began to crumble, frantically scanning the area around her. "Joce!" Why had she been so stupid?

"Joce..." Regina whimpered as she struggled to regain her footing completely before making a dash back in the way she had come from. It wasn't because she'd suddenly managed to make sense of things. No, her actions now came from something far more base than common sense; the need to be protected, the desire to feel safe.

The young woman froze again as the Great One began to suck a part of everyone present away through the inhalation of what seemed to be the world's longest breath. It took all thought from her, leaving her with nothing but a bit of fear growing slowly in her stomach... Or maybe not so slowly, considering how frightened she already was. This was different, though. This was like the fear she had felt when she was younger, much younger. It was the same fear that had started small as soon as the lights were turned out, growing bit by bit with every twitch of the shadows on the wall, every sound made by the old, creaky house she had grown up in.

It was the fear that had reduced her more than once to a trembling mass beneath the covers that she had sworn would protect her, somehow from everything on the outside.

Regina stood there in that fear, making herself an easy enough target... And maybe she would have made a better one had others around her not been effected by the same emotions, or even others. It would almost be a welcome thing to give herself completely over to one of the attackers, screaming in complete terror, just to make it end...

Ms. Hopewell had never been that lucky. Why would things ever change now?

When she 'woke' from the paralyzing fear it was from a fetal position on the ground; curled up as tightly as she could be amongst some rubble. Trying to become one with it? Maybe. Probably. Most likely.

The battle had picked up around her by the time she could shake the worst of the 'nightmare' from her head. Well, the nightmare that her head had created, at least. She was still living the Deep Space Odyssey Nightmare in real time... But for how much longer with how fiercely everyone was fighting? Anything touched by the darkness, it seemed, had gotten a second wind, attacking with a ferocity that Regina wasn't sure she had ever seen before, and hoped that she would never see again.

And then the locusts arrived.

Regina ran. She scrambled quickly out of her hiding place just as a swarm blew past her, only a handful of the creatures actually spotting her to take chase. Her hands swatted them away, stinging where her fingers struck their exoskeletons as they buzzed towards her. "Joce!" God, why had she ever run away from her in the first place?

Her eyes caught sight of the young woman who had been her protective shield; the mother duck of the little musketeers group that they had formed on day one. It was too late, though. She couldn't save her... Couldn't return the favor... Couldn't even thank her for everything.

There were tears glistening in her eyes as she dove to the ground, scrambling as quickly as she could towards Jocelyn, reaching one hand out to the younger woman. If she could touch her she could at least let her know that she was there. That whatever happened next, at least they wouldn't die alone.

Her fingers never reached that far; never made it to their intended resting place on Jocelyn's shoulder. Dust to dust... She thought vaguely as she began to fade, shed tears glistening as they slid down her face. This wasn't how she had wanted to die...

She hadn't even had a chance to say goodbye...

Or thank you.

She'd been there. She'd heard it all, seen it all, and was keeping herself remote and removed because of it. Lina Knight moved through the wounded to look at them all with her scouter, relieved that none of them would truly require the medical attention they wouldn't be able to give. There was some talk about Virgo vanishing through a hole in the Surrounding; the bluenette refused to think anything about it because there was nothing that could stop Sailor Virgo. She was indomitable in the most innocent, brilliant of ways. Everything would be fine.

It had to be.

For once in a very long time the thing Lina Knight wanted more than anything was quiet and solitude to sort her mind together. The blue screen was down over her right eye, showing the power levels of the barrier were beyond anything she had seen before. They were also wildly fluctuating up and down, rippling in places. Perhaps the souls moving from place to place? She couldn't think much of it.

Stepping up to the barrier, she pushed her hand in lightly. Further and further, amazed, until a shock of pain caused the young woman to yelp and snatch her hand out like she'd been burnt. It was the most terrifying thing to watch the flesh of her hand repair itself magically in less than ten seconds. Almost as terrifying as it was to watch it break down. They were well and truly trapped.

Movement on the other side caught her vision so she looked up jerkily; the scanner caught the level of power on the other side clearly, reading it back to her ear almost dimly. She knew what he was. "Are you alright Zink?"

Her smile quirked but it was drawn, pale, haunted. It looked as waifish as she did standing there like a ghost that didn't quite belong. The almost unrelieved black made her look paler somehow, tired from the efforts of a battle they didn't quite understand why they were all fighting. That Castor had gone for Zinkenite after promising her he would try to help was breaking her heart slowly all over again. She was almost getting used to the feeling.

"I'll live. This is the worst of it." Her hair was brushed back to reveal a long and ugly rake down the side of her neck from where someone's weapon had made contact, shoulders shrugging it away like it was nothing. Compared to previous injuries she'd received, it was. Physically anyway.

Her sad, tired eyes swept Zinkenite the General-King from head to toe. There was so much to be said, her fears were mounting that she would slowly lose everyone on that side of the line she had ever cared about, simply because they danced into the darkness without ever looking back. Didn't they realize how poisonous it was? How dangerous? Did they even care?! "Everything I wanted? There is no such thing." Again that sad, wraith-like smile. "Thank you for keeping your word, General-King."

Her head turned slightly, looking around, before her attention focused on him with a fervent intensity, hands clasped in front of her. She wanted to reach through that gold wall and strangle Zink, slap sense into him, drag him through the barrier and make Princess Chronos purify him then and there. If she could. Instead all she could do was speak in a firm, quiet, impassioned tone.

"I am going to save you. You and Tanz. I promise I can do it and everything will be okay. I just have to..have to figure it out. Then everything will be okay." Did it sound like she was trying to convince herself? Maybe. Just a little.

“One of us will save the other.” He nodded his agreement for that, the small but careful change of wording. One way or the other they would ‘save’ each other, or something would kill them. Likely Castor would kill him, or Tanzanite would end Castor.

“Zinkenite.” He said suddenly and firmly. “I find I have little patience for titles these days.” The irony of the statement was not lost on him, but the idea of her Calling him General King left a bitter taste in his mouth, a twist in his stomach of how very backwards it was for the person who trained him to use that title.

“Was he all you expected then, was he all you hoped for? Was he worth it?” For all that Chaos had taken hold and reshaped him, there was still a deep sadness in his voice, a very human voice, unlike glorious and dangerous Tanzanite with her dual tone voice and monstrous attributes.

Wolframite had been resuming the battle with the rest of them, trying to protect the very creature they had fought and worked hard to bring back from the ashes, only to be thrown back with the rest. It was a wave of power that divided them, sorting them all to their fractions into piles like someone with OCD but without the care of sorting them nicely in rows. He had landed on someone's back but pushed up immediately, luckily not one of the ones that were being crushed under someone else.

Rising, he looked around, taking stock of everyone. It didn't seem everyone was too bad off aside from being injured in whatever fray they had been in. Cuts, bruises, and a few eyes already swelling. Still, if there were some that were too far gone to fight, they would have to stay back. "Everyone, check yourselves. Get up and sorted. Tend to your comrades." The fight wasn't over. They brought through a barrier before and they could do so again. It wasn't like the Negaverse was going anywhere and they could stay here for a century if need be. Wolframite had not worked to gain the respect of the youma back in the Rift to come back because they didn't want to wait around.

Turning, he started to head back to the barrier, wanting to check with the signature he felt was Zinkenite to see what his orders and thoughts were on the matter. He was the one leading this operation after all, and as Tanzanite's appointed, he would follow his command.

As he approached however, he stopped dead in his tracks. He had at no point had seen Lina in her new form. He had only heard about her, having been out of commission and far too occupied after thinking that Tanzanite had died back when the BMC clashed with the Negaverse rescue party. At first, he wondered who Zink was speaking to on the other side, but it was that hair, that expression, certainly not that uniform, that stopped him.

Was this the Lina that had changed? Was this how she looked now? It was indeed her face, but he had a hard time seeing her on the other side of the barrier only because it put into place how divided they now were.He looked to the General Queen and "Knight" as they seemed to call themselves, and wondered why they seemed relaxed in each other's company when all he could feel was as sick anger.

“Patience is sometimes all we have.” He said quietly, a flicker of a frown that creased his brows. If she had just been a little more patient, he was sure she would never have left. He turned on one heel and walked away as she had, the dark look still coloring his expression.

His gaze turned to Wolframite, brooding, a bland and emotionless opening to talk, to challenge, or to demand to know what had just transpired.