(word count -- 1292)

There was nothing like shooting hoops to give a man the mental space to ponder the universe. At least if the man's name was Emory Counsel. Basketball was muscle memory by this point, so he didn't have to put any brain power into it, especially since he was just playing by himself. He could relax and let his mind wander.

Dribbling the ball on the concrete driveway, he set himself and lofted the basketball toward the hoop hung over the garage door of his family home. Swish, nothing but net. That was how he played basketball, and that was how he lived his other life as Chrysotile, Lieutenant of the Negaverse. The move to Destiny City had definitely been good for him. Nobody knew about his true nature, not even -- especially not -- his mother and little sister. And he intended to keep it that way. It was easy enough to get out of the house in the evenings to go on patrols by saying he was going out to play basketball with some teammates or going off for practice. A little lie kept his family safe.

He was making good progress in the Negaverse, too, he thought as he shot another basket. Patrolling on his own and with others, including that cute corrupted senshi Amphitrite, gathering energy and making his quota easily, even answering General Painite's call to battle. He smiled to himself. He had sure come a long way from that evening back in Chicago, when everything changed...

It was August of last year, a warm clear Chicago summer evening, about a week before Emory was to return to college. He had been shooting hoops, much like today, only at a municipal basketball court not far from his family's apartment. And now he was on his way home to his mother and little sister, taking his customary short-cut down an alley. It was a familiar, routine walk, and most of the time he encountered no-one.

This time was different.

At the far end of the alley, a robed figure bent over something. As Emory drew closer, he could see it was another person on the ground. Apparently the robed person was too wrapped up in what they were doing to notice his approach. "Hey!" he finally called out. "Everything okay? Do you need help?"

The robed figure straightened and turned toward him. It was a man, nearly as tall as he was, in some sort of uniform, a long black cloak draped over his shoulders. "I'd turn around and leave if I were you," the man warned. "This is not your affair."

"Excuse me? The hell it ain't." The man's words pissed Emory off. This was his neighborhood!

The man's eyes narrowed as Emory approached, studying him. Then a smile appeared on his lips. "Well well. Isn't this something? You are the last person I ever expected to see again." He turned and fully faced the basketball player. "I wonder if you'd remember me."

What was this guy talking about? "Look, I don't care who you are. You need to get lost before I call the cops."

"Oh, no. I have some unfinished business with you." The man spread his arms, and with a shimmer the uniform and cloak were gone and he was standing there in normal clothing. "Emory. How have you been? You've grown so tall -- I always figured you would. Still playing basketball too, I see. Good."

Emory dropped his basketball and his eyes widened in shock. "D- Dad?"

Terrence Counsel nodded. "Yes, son, it's really me."

"But… It's been twelve years!" Emory was furious. "What the hell happened to you, Dad?"

"I'm not your dad any longer." Another shimmer as Emory's father powered up, and the uniform and cloak returned. "I'm called General Ruizite now."

"Ruizite? What is this 'general' s**t?"

"I've been fighting a war, Emory. A war that's been going on for millennia all around us." Ruizite approached the young man. "I serve a higher purpose now."

"Higher than your own family?" Emory snarled. "You abandoned us! Do you know what that did to my mother? To your daughter? Hell, to ME?"

"I'm sorry for that," Ruizite spread his arms in apology. "But it was a sacrifice I had to make. A relatively small sacrifice for the greater good of all." He glanced over his shoulder at the body on the ground behind him. "You and your mother and sister would have been in grave danger if you'd known about the war."

"What do you mean? You keep talking about this war. What war?" Emory demanded.

"The war between Earth and the forces of the Silver Millennium. You see, long long ago, the alien Moon Princess seduced our Prince, coveting the wonder and beauty and peace of Earth for her own. Our Queen Beryl, aided by the power given to her by Metallia, defeated her… but they are not done with us, nor we with them. The war goes on. But the Negaverse will prevail."

Emory stared at Ruizite, then burst out laughing. "You have GOT to be kidding me! Princesses and princes and a war for the planet?"

"I assure you it's all true. All real." Ruizite drew closer to Emory. "I joined the Negaverse so I could protect you and your mother and sister -- and the earth -- from the alien threat of the White Moon Court. Isn't that what you want for your family, Emory? Safety, protection?"

"Of course! I'd do anything to protect them!"

"Then you must be prepared to make that sacrifice as well." Ruizite smiled. It was not a pleasant smile. "Are you?"

Emory blinked. "Of course," he replied automatically, without thought.

Ruizite nodded in approval. "Then let this be my parting gift to you. I love you, son, whether you believe that or not. And I love your mother and sister. Trust me, it will all be worth it. This is going to only hurt a little…"

And Ruizite's smile went vicious and he plunged his hand into Emory's chest, his fingers grasping his son's starseed.

Gasping in surprise, Emory tried to scream but couldn't -- the pain from what his father was doing was unimaginable; all he could manage was a strained whimper. Tears sprang to his eyes as the agony twisted through his soul like a searing dagger, white-hot and ice-cold at the same time. Just when he thought he couldn't take any more, Ruizite withdrew his hand, leaving Emory changed. Rather than exhausted from the ordeal of corruption, he felt invigorated, like he could take on the entire world. And win.

"There," the general sighed with a slight touch of weariness. "Now you can truly protect our family, Lieutenant Chrysotile."

"Emory!"

The sound of his little sister's voice broke his reverie. Shooting one more basket, he turned with a grin to see Bethany running up the driveway, arms spread for the anticipated hug. "How you doing, B-Bug?" he said, scooping her up in his arms. She was getting big; soon she'd be a teenager. He wondered how much longer he'd have moments like this with her.

Bethany wriggled herself out of his grasp, not even objecting to the baby pet-name. "I was over at Melissa's house -- you know she just got a puppy? It's sooooooo cute ohmigawd! D'you think Mom would let us have a puppy? I wonder if she would -- we have a backyard now, and I would totally walk it and feed it and clean up after it…"

Emory let his sister ramble on, a distant smile on his face. This was why he did what he did. His father was right. It was all worth it.