Word Count: 552

She received a message from an unfamiliar cat.

Quote:
Hi All, 
This is Liryn. 
Sorry to message you out of the blue, but Athene and I are trying to find Ida. She went out on patrol but hasn't come back and she's not picking up her messages. 
If any of you have heard anything then please let either Athene or myself know - even if it's just to say that she's gone to Ida.


For a while she just stared at her phone, motionless on the swing in the park that had become her usual location. She thought of a girl with brown hair and warm eyes. Often Ganymede wondered if it was appropriate to call her a friend. She had so few of them. They had not encountered one another recently, and she could not pretend to know Ida well, but Ganymede still felt fondness. She felt protectiveness, because Ida showed her kindness and acceptance when Ganymede was unsure if she really deserved it.

That Ida seemed to be missing was alarming. Given the timing, Ganymede could not help but think it related to her time in captivity. It had been a year since then. What better way for the Negaverse to commemorate the anniversary than by doing it again. Ida had not been captured then, but she was still in danger of it. The Negaverse wanted to know why they glowed, why their starseeds could not be reached. Ganymede remembered agent after agent slipping their hands into her chest only to be forced away.

Sadness overcame her. And helplessness. She could not stop it now anymore than she'd been able to stop it then. The Negaverse was too strong, too cunning. They had abilities that the Senshi did not. Weapons to combat a Senshi's magic. Energy draining to combat a Senshi's strength. Ruthlessness that Ganymede did not believe was in a Senshi's true nature. Often it seemed as if the Senshi were powerless to stop the spread of Chaos.

They could not contain it. They could not destroy it. They could only watch it overtake the world. Ultimately, she feared their efforts meant nothing. That they fought did not matter. That they defied their enemies did not matter. It was useless to hope, she thought, though hope still burned within her. All they could do was try. And try. And try. So that when the end came they could at least say that they'd given it their all.

Ganymede read the message over and over again, until she could recite the words by heart. Eventually she sent her phone back to subspace. It offered her no comfort. She pushed the swing into motion and tipped her head back to stare at the night sky—at darkness speckled with stars and a silver moon. She thought it apropos. The darkness was all around them. They could only struggle to shine their light through it.

Soon she would search, but she would find nothing. Soon she would prowl the streets for officers to question, but she would receive no answer.

For now she sat on her swing and felt small and insignificant. She was paralyzed by fear and hopelessness.

Ganymede thought of Ida and her heart went out to her, wherever she might be.

She'd known the darkness would come again.

It always did.