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The Negaverse Captain had never actually killed someone before. Well, that wasn't entirely true, but she had never done it directly before. That was the key. True enough, some civilians had died in her traps and for her devious plots, but that was simply their duty as fodder. She had joined the Negaverse after the focus had shifted from starseeds to energy, and though she knew how to, she had never actually taken one before.

So watching the General Queen take them without effort or even much apparent thought in the matter was fairly fascinating. She wondered if she would become so used to killing, or if there would always be that moment of inner justification she had to go through before she could string them up in her good guy traps.

At least with senshi or knights it was much different. She wanted to kill them, and the Spirit of Mr. Saddles certainly tried to. She'd get them next time, always next time. They all seemed blessed with the insanely annoying habit of escaping just when things were going Painite's way.

"That's him," Painite grinned, nodding her head respectfully and then focusing on the human on the screen. She looked at Tanzanite at her next question, though, laughing. She had met Ilmenite, and she hadn't thought him too chatty. Maybe because he was busy playing bodyguard for Lyra, which she at least understood and didn't give him too much grief for. "Maybe not, but then, I guess his whole draw is for his talking."

A fellow reporter, Gently Ponsonby was stuck to the world of print media, which was slowly giving way to the internet. The television reporters, on the other hand, could keep up with the media changes far more gracefully, and their messages spread quickly. Mostly without fact checking or news value and all for shock value and ratings, but that was a gripe for another time and place.

Tanzanite did not watch the news. Partially because the Rift didn't have great satellite reception, but mostly because she thought everything on it to be nothing more than distractions. What was a war in some foreign country when their entire planet hung on the brink of slavery? What little she did see, though, forced her to take notice of the solution Painite had brought up. Having a prominent member of the media on their side would be an asset in keeping their names and faces off of the nightly news.

Things were getting to the point where people could no longer easily explain away the pictures of magical battles that had surfaced here and there. It was harder to believe that it was all an elaborate joke, or perhaps some kind of viral marketing for some upcoming summer blockbuster. When entire city blocks lay in ruin, it was becoming almost impossible to keep Destiny City out of national interest. This, perhaps, would at least stall the day where the National Guard became another thing for the Negaverse to work around.

And they were not immune to bullets.

Tag's footsteps betrayed him only moments before his voice did. Plenty of women had probably swooned at that smile, and a younger Aree certainly might have. There was no flutter in Tanzanite's chest as she returned the smile with her own.

The sharp molars made it significantly less charming.

“Well, would you look at that. Painite, he called me a lady,” Tanzanite drew out the word, and even her usually flat voice could not cover the mocking tone, “Maybe we won't have to kill him after all.”

In a normal situation, Tag would suggest a large list of things that the two women could do with him. In fact, he had an entire checklist of things he would like. But his basic senses informed him that he wasn't going to get laid tonight. Well. Not by these two at any rate. No, it seemed they had something much more sinister and far less kinky in mind.

Besides, the looming evil wings, monstrous arm, and hollow evil voice weren't exactly a turn on. Okay. Maybe a little.

"Kill me?" he swallowed. "Now why would you ever want to kill me? I mean, slap me, tie me up, spank me, but don't kill me." His legs quivered. He was walking a thin and dangerous line between trying to charm and giving a death wish, but he had confidence in himself that he'd get through the experience as frightening as it was.

"Killing me would just make the world sad. There must be something that can be done with me where I live, no?"

"Talents might be a stretch," Painite said wistfully, but she nodded her head, watching the older man keenly. She was only 24, but the age differences never bothered her. Her Captain, when she first joined the Negaverse, had been a teenager.

Ages were just numbers. It was the person, the mind in the body, that was most important.

She smiled at him pleasantly, hands on her hips, cocked slightly to the side. She had to look up at Tanzanite, another victim of the short Nega curse.

"The terrorists, right," she sauntered over to Tag. He had introduced himself with flattery and flirtation, however driven by the urge to not die that it was. She got closer to him, but stood to the side or circled around behind him, never directly in front.

"Those terrorists the news media just love to hate are more than trouble makers and girls in short skirts. They are our enemies, trying to take our planet from us. They're invaders from space, a plague that spreads quickly and we have to combat them with the best the Earth has to offer to aid us. That, it seems, would include you, Mister Swagger. You're influential, affluent, and you're already fighting our cause. You can do more than just smile for a camera, however debonair, and read a teleprompter. With us."

Tanzanite smiled proudly as Painite spoke, like a deacon listening to a student recite a perfect scripture. This was the cause around which the Negaverse had finally rallied. No longer did they blindly follow any Queen or General-King, throwing their lives into the fray for some ancient obsession. Now, they fought for their planet, and it was only to Earth and Metallia that their loyalty was bound.

Tanzanite could see apprehension in the way he looked at her. It was such a familiar thing by now. The way eyes always rested a bit too long upon that blackened arm, and all too briefly upon her face. Usually, there was no need to explain it. Most of them were not meant to live much longer. Now, she quietly spread her hands, as though to put on display the very deformities that might make him question their cause.

“Only a few years ago, I was a dancer on scholarship at Crystal Academy. I had a home. A family. I, like most people, knew nothing about this war until the day I was recruited to fight in it. Within six months, I lost my arm. Within twelve, my family. Within eighteen... everything. This,” she flexed the fingers of her arm, and the mouth set into the palm yawned widely, baring rows of serrated teeth, “is because of them, and far worse will happen to anyone left alive if they should win."

A few steps brought her to a halt just in front of him, wings stretching wide. It was almost strange to look at someone who was on eye-level. Her human hand lifted, and rested quietly upon his chest just above his heart. His starseed hummed quietly, a slowly beating beacon of energy. Dark energy hummed around her fingertips, and his starseed would hum in resonance.

In a way, Tag Swagger had been corrupted long before the Negaverse ever set eyes on him. Tanzanite tilted her head slightly to one side as she studied his features. It was the look of a researcher examining a strange new specimen; intrigued, but wary.

"We have a message, Mr. Swagger, and you have the voice we need to make it heard. You will learn more than you can imagine about them. Who they are. Why they're here. And if you live long enough... the power to change the world. All you have to do is say yes.”

Painite watched with interest as the process began. She had not been present for something like this before, and was eager to see how it went down.

She held on to Tag, lost in thought. Thoughts of the future, of plans that were already beginning to coil in her mind.

This was a good choice.

"What a good boy," she cooed softly, completely absorbed in the process and not really paying attention to much else. She could almost feel the energy as it began to build, and she wanted a good view of Tanzanite's hand moving into Tag's chest, and the corruption as it took place.

After all, some day, she would be doing it herself.

Tag tried his best to muster a smile as he went through the excruciating process of transforming into Lieutenant Osumilite, but even a smile as well-rehearsed as his own was not prepared for pain like this. The two women's hands were inside of his chest, their forearms crossing through his sternum like air. His heart pounded against their palms like a ticking time bomb ready to blow as the corruption pumped into his veins. His bones rattled with an blistering icy sensation as his tendons grew weak and fiery-hot until his muscles seemed disconnected. Every hair on his body rose and his limbs trembled and twitched as the process flowed through his body, taking it over as its new vessel. It was an indescribable pain like no other. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes as he stood motionless, unable to breathe other than a soft restrained exhale that felt like it could have been his very last breath.

In many ways, it was his last breath. Tag Swagger was never the same again - he was Lieutenant Osumilite; a new and better man than before. With his corruption his life had total meaning, he had gone from a great man to a man of awesome power.

And the process was complete. He inhaled at last, then exhaled slow. His first breaths as a new man, Lieutenant Osumilite of the Negaverse. He was winded, keeling over as he panted, taking in the new sensation. His familiar smile was then able to reemerge - genuine, this time - as he felt the power he now held. He looked up at the two women responsible for his new glory, stood up straight and asked with anticipation and delight, "What's next?"