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At first Biela was terribly confused. There was some gorgeous, scary chick in a black fuku yelling at her. Something about that Biela herself was the one at fault for recruiting the chibis? "I'm in charge of recruitment?"

Why is her hair so lo-

Then it was a lot like gym class when someone hit a line drive right for her face at third base. Everything got really slow, and the chick looked like a tealess version of Epic Tea Time with Alan Rickman. Acid -slowly-coming-closer-now-its-spreading-turn-your-face-don't-look-NO

Biela gave a shriek like a banshee, only turning halfway as the attack hit her right in the side of the face. Her left eye felt like it burning out of her skull and the rest of her cheek, mouth and neck was like she'd been rolling around in battery acid. "CRAPSOCKSBUTTWAGONBOTTOMBAG-"

The little scout reeled back a few steps, word vomiting whatever, and grabbing her butt-bow tails to wipe hard at the skin. It wasn't like the battle was over just because she couldn't see out half her face! She needed to get it back together. My faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaace it buuuuuurnssss, I can't see a thing this way, how am I gonna fight her!

Persephone started backing away, trying to put distance between herself and Azurite. Her eyes flicked to the back of the warehouse, and she grinned. There was very definitely a door back there - half-rusted, which would mean Senshi strength would easily destroy it.

"Cornucopia! Fall back as best you can!" Her eyes flicked over to Sisyphus, who she very well hoped would be able to get away from Xenotime. She wasn't going to lose a teammate in this.




Natron spun, eyes going wide. Was Bischofite really going to do that? Go after kids who, by rights, couldn't be older than fourteen? Not even in high ********>, he had underestimated exactly how depraved the Lieutenant was. But Bischofite was right. Every Senshi here was an enemy, and there was only one way to deal with them.

"Kill them all," he said, and he was surprised how loud his voice was and how little it shook. He would just have to pray that these Senshi had it together better than they'd shown so far, and that maybe they could get the kids out before one of his officers had the chance to kill.

It was working!

Her triumph was short lived when Aludra realised that she had no idea what to do next. The Negaverse Agent now had her in his sights and he was… he was laughing. Not to mention he had a huge spear that she knew couldn’t be for any good purpose. The path faltered.

She heard him and her eyes widened. The chibi wanted to believe him, but how could she, when surrounded by so many desperate struggles? They had attacked first!

Kill everyone. Everyone included her.

Aludra stopped walking and her attack stopped completely, the path disappearing and her chest rising and falling with quick, panicked breaths. She lifted her hands as if to ward him away. "Please don’t."

Silver met gold, and Xenotime watched the once-general's hand come up and curling into a loose fist, thumb extending out to the side. She grinned at him, licking his lips as that hand turned, condemning the senshi in her hands, as she knew he would. "The votes against you," she purred into Sisyphus' ear, dragging her cheek along his before brushing her lips against soft skin as she began to pull at the pulsing starseed held gently at her hand. "Don't worry, it'll be quick."

Or it would have been, had something not come up behind her to slam tiny fists into her back. It didn't hurt, but it did startle the Captain into hesitating. She turned enough to look down at the child, and a single purple brow arched in amazement. "Oh baby, that wasn't wise." The softness in her voice was betrayed by the darkness in sleet eyes. She slid her hand from the other other senshi's chest, and gave him a pat on the cheek. She'd been interrupted, the moment was over. "I'll come back to you, don't you worry, but I have something I need to take care of first." Another ghost of a kiss on his cheek, cruelly tender before she threw him away from her.

And then the chibi had her undivided attention, and what hope did a child have against a captain, against a trained fighter, against someone that was every bit the weapon her general was molding her to be.

She grabbed the child's wrist, jerking his arm up until she had actually picked him up off the ground and those sandaled feet were left kicking at air. Those blonde curls, those round cheeks. He was so young. What was he doing in this war? What was the silver kingdom doing recruiting children? She stared at those bright, angry eyes, and she felt herself smile, slow and unpleasant, as she reached for that round little chin.

Sisyphus fell from Xenotime's grasp and was left gasping on the floor, a hand on his chest. Everything was back where it was supposed to be but -- that had hurt, there were bruises around his throat, and his head was still spinning.

Rescue surrounded him, but no one strong enough to hoist him to his feet and help him escape. Except --

Laoise, on the other end of the room, lost her grasp on Cinnabar's wrist and let herself slip free to land, graceful as ever, on the floor at her feet. She was there to help and, perhaps, she'd done her job -- in their way, her claws had left tears even in leather, had perhaps gone deep enough to draw blood beneath. So, with one last hiss, she took off to check on her charge.

When she saw Sisyphus on the ground, saw the stupid child fumbling with a much-larger officer, Laoise hissed again. It was the matter of a moment for her to jump in the air and kick something into Sisyphus's reach.

He, at last, had the sense to do something, picking it up and blinking at it for a moment before lifting it up:

"Sisyphus Asteroid Power --"

His form shifted. Adjusted. His uniform melted and his blip of sailor grew to that of super.

He only needed a moment to breathe, and then [at a whispered direction from Laoise] he pointed at Xenotime, Alois and Azurite, clustered close enough together to hit all at once.

"Sisyphean labor!"



So it came out a bit hoarse, a bit fumbling, a hand against his throat. It would still, hopefully, catch them -- and give Dionysus a bit of a reprieve, to wriggle free so that both of them could fall back and follow Persephone's orders.

Thanks to her own flailing around, she didn't have a bootprint in the face. It did mean that she got a thigh to the ear, and was knocked over to tumble a few rotations into some of the crates. She thought, dismally, she heard the coffee spilling. What a sad, sad waste.

Her one good eye was too teary to make out more than blobs as she got to her feet again. Her head was swimming. The girl with the acid fingers she thought was the one black blob, and the other corrupted guy was the nearer one making noises kinda like she had. Maybe he'd gotten some magic love, too. "Thunder thighs."

She was a little bitter at how much her head hurt, and couldn't come up with better. Everything else in the room was hazy slenderman wobbles moving around. Persephone's voice rang out calling the retreat. Where was GilbertGrape? She couldn't find him or RedRidingHood. She opted for the enemies she could kinda make out, backing along the crates with her heel dragging along them like a blind-cane, putting her hands together like a gun and shouting her magic, "Biela Magic Blast!"

Persephone felt the bloom of a new Super signature, and she turned and her expression lit up. Sisyphus was stronger now, and his new magic had both her attacker and the two nearby Negas very occupied.

Unfortunately, it didn't hold all the Negas in its grip. The wet squelch of someone being stabbed might have gone missed in the din of general battle, except there was no missing the General in purple and gold and black holding Biela up on the end of her spear.

"Biela! NO!" The scream tore from her throat without realizing it. Azurite and Xenotime and Bischofite were forgotten, and the tiny Senshi pushed off, running to catch her comrade as she fell to the ground. "Biela, no, no, I'm so sorry," she gasped, gathering the girl up in her arms. She needed a few moments, needed to at least stop the bleeding long enough to get them all out. Her hands scrabbled at the end of her own skirt, tearing off a strip of cloth to press over the injury. Her eyes flashed coldly at the General who had done this.

She would remember that face forever.

"You're a monster!" She shouted after her.

This was her fault - entirely her fault. Biela was dying and there was nothing she could do. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I'm so sorry."