Another day where the moon successfully set and the sun rose.

In recent years, Sekani could not endorse the passage of time much more than that simple observation. He would watch it rise, just to be sure it was real, even if he continued to lay in bed for hours until it was a reasonable hour. There was no nightlife to speak of for him anymore; his routine consisted of working part-time at the donut shop near his old college and continued making online videos, all of it accomplished strictly during daylight hours. The sight of the moon – once a beacon of goodness and hope – shredded his innards and stole his breath. It was one thing to be hollowed out, but it was another to hear the echoes against the walls and be reminded that there was once something there. He had failed the moon; they all had. How it still hung in the sky with their heavy guilt pulling it down to the sick, infected Earth, he didn't know. The physics major in him said that nothing had changed the balance of gravity, nothing really could or should, but so very much has changed. At any length, the slight neurosis made it easier to pass as a simple civilian, and that kept him positive.

As such, he was only really of use to The Watchers now. He kept up appearances for them. He did not speak out against their new overlords, sliding into a careful balance between handing them control freely and keeping his starseed in his chest. It was perhaps a bit ironic, the mix of apparent friendliness and maintaining everyone at a necessary distance, given that Krishna had turned out to be one of them.

He hadn't known what to do after losing his good friend. (His heart protested quietly to this term, as only a dying, mewling thing could.) Ultimately, the revelation of his identity as General Serpentine had been the blow that shattered Sekani's outlook and, in some ways, his faith. Krishna was a sourpuss sometimes, but evil? So evil as to enslave the human race under a monster? Sekani could never fully accept it, which caused problems when the rainbow-haired man paraded the fact down the street. There were no senshi or knights or cats he could ask for personal advice, since the support network had been blown apart when the Negaverse emerged from the shadows and brought the Rift with it. They have since regrouped, been reformed under more strict guidelines and teams as demand for caution outgrew the warm, friendly, and individualized atmosphere of a former Order. There is no place for Sekani's relatively small battle of losing friends initially, losing hope along the way, and eventually losing himself. It's what he tells himself, partially because the thought of the lot of them dragging on under the same premise certainly did not help his attitude. For the most part, he became a lonely island behind his computer.

He observed and reported, tying down no strong moors to anyone for the safety of his position and information. Well, there was the little old lady next door who yelled quite vehemently at The Price Is Right whom he regularly ate lunch with, but she wasn't very threatening unless you mentioned the state of young people or traffic. Or the state of young people in traffic. Sekani guessed that she hadn't been allowed to drive in at least ten years, but he wasn't going to stop her relatively ranting. He fed at her conviction like a hummingbird to nectar. Old people really had a way of keeping things in perspective. She had seen some s**t.

This afternoon, his belly full of the soup and sandwiches he had made for both of them at lunch, Sekani found an odd moment of contentment. Purple eyes wandered around his messy apartment, past the computer station and past the door to the bedroom. Some older pastime was calling him - he found it settled in a corner, near the lacrosse equipment. It had seen some idle use around the apartment, but it was probably going on a year that it had tasted grass and dirt and sweat. It made him think too much of the old times, of living, of Krishna. Perhaps, though, the thoughts would remain at bay today. It was bright enough to pretend that there was no moon.