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There was no longer a click, click, click of heels upon the stone as Tanzanite approached the throne room, though she walked with no less confidence than she had before. Or... she tried, at least. Without her other arm, walking was an experience she was still adjusting to. She leaned on one of two wolf-like youma and passed through the wide doors leading to the throne room, but the bonded creatures did not. They stopped suddenly outside of the entrance, flanking either side of the door and leaving Tanzanite to awkwardly stumble forward. The pair laid down obediently just as they had after Howlite had buried her starseed, as they always had at the foot of the former General-Queen's throne.

Except... she had given them no orders. She was no longer capable of giving them orders, and their sudden halt had been unexpected.

Confused, Tanzanite continued on her own, albeit a bit more slowly. She turned her single eye to the stone pathway before her, darkness to either side, to the rising throne, and... Laurelite?!

Tanzanite stumbled, but managed to catch and straighten herself with a barely concealed curse.

As long as one considered a loud, agitated, “God damnit!” to be barely concealed. She was still getting used to her new legs, and almost falling down and then yelling at herself was not exactly how she planned to present herself to their newest monarch.

Thankfully, there was some familiarity between Tanzanite and the woman she would now presumably be serving. It was Laurelite who had helped her betray Beryl, and their carefully wrought plan had been executed so beautifully. Zinkenite's life had been saved in the process and a new General-King had been created, but it was the beginning of the end for his monstrous counterpart. In that moment, Metallia had made note of Tanzanite's progress, decided it was time for the next step of her grand experiment, and manipulated her loyal servant down a path that would lead to her destruction.

And reconstruction, whether she liked it or not.

Tanzanite's overzealous loyalty to the Negaverse had always been beyond question, though her body showed just how loyal the Negaverse had been in return. Tanzanite met Laurelite's gaze and stopped before the throne with an inclination of her head and nothing more. Close, but far enough away that she could pose no threat.

Of course, this Tanzanite could be sitting directly in Laurelite's lap and the only potential threat would be her breath.

This Tanzanite was something quite different than the one Queen Laurelite had known before. The last time the two had seen each other, the former General-Queen had been a beacon of power. A carefully designed weapon. Metallia's loyal servant, now fallen from grace.

The sight of Laurelite on the throne stirred... feelings. Feelings that surprised the pale shell that housed Tanzanite's irreparably splintered starseed. Beryl had once referred to Tanzanite as a mongrel dog, lamenting that she had not been put down long ago. A mutt. Abomination. Crossbreed. Tanzanite's brief rule over the Negaverse had been disastrous, setting in stone that she had never been meant to lead. Regardless of her genuine care for the Negaverse, Tanzanite had been designed as their attack dog, not their master. She was always meant to serve.

In return, all she'd ever wanted was a Queen worth serving.

“Laurelite.”

Perhaps now she might have one.

The youma within Tanzanite was too busy holding her broken starseed together and repairing her inner organs to physically present much of itself, but Tanzanite could feel a hum of dark energy at her core in Laurelite's presence. The knotted black veins concealed beneath the wrapping of her shoulder pulsed with the rhythm of a heartbeat she didn't actually have. Patches of gray skin paused in slowly knitting themselves back together, covered by the simple dress that Alkaid brought her because, 'You can't just walk around naked, Tanz. Put the stupid thing on.'

And since Alkaid was somewhat frightening when annoyed, Tanzanite had finally put the stupid thing on.

All too suddenly, Laurelite was there, just as fast as Tanzanite remembered. Faster, even, now that she had taken on the power that accompanied her title. Tanzanite didn't bother to conceal the fear in her eye, recalling the last time she'd seen the Queen move with such speed. Throughout both the planning and execution of their revolution, Laurelite had remained calm and precise, just as deadly as the intensely dramatic Youma Queen had ever been. For a brief moment, Tanzanite was very certain that she was finally going to die, though she didn't seem disappointed by the prospect. Metallia could do far worse than death, and the recently reanimated woman just wasn't feeling another round of being dissolved while begging for her life.

It wasn't something she wanted to make a hobby of.

When fascination greeted her rather than the violent end she expected, Tanzanite froze, staring at her superior in bewilderment. The former leader was no longer the same powerful woman. No weapon. No strength. No power, and the loyal youma laying outside were too weak to even attempt protection after their six years of guardianship. Against Laurelite, they wouldn't have even tried. The Queen could destroy them, and what remained of Tanzanite, with a flick of her wrist. Even when Laurelite reached for her, Tanzanite was entirely certain that it was to snap her disobedient neck.

Only when Laurelite's hand rested on her cheek did Tanzanite feel her fear, for only a moment, wither away. Despite herself, Tanzanite leaned her cheek against her Queen's hand and simply... sighed. Laurelite didn't seem to care that the cheek was deeply scarred from where Ares had once shoved a molten rod through it. There wasn't enough energy available in the far reaches of the rift for anything but the essentials. As far as the youma was concerned, Tanzanite had approximately three quarters of a face, and that was good enough thank you very much.

Tanzanite held no illusions that Laurelite's touch was one of affection, but it comforted her nonetheless. With that fearless fascination came confirmation of something Tanzanite had known for many years. The Queen's reaction was not to kill her. Not to punish her. Not to return her to her crystal prison, but to study her. Tanzanite understood what she was, and it was not a dedicated warrior who had been mutilated in a last-ditch effort to save her life. It had not been by coincidence that the loyal and resilient Tanzanite, then a young and ambitious lieutenant, had been the one to fall under Kunzite's blade.

She was, and always had been, an experiment.

Now it seemed she had leaned into that role as surely as she leaned into Laurelite's touch, taking an unexpected turn as experiments were wont to do. Without Metallia's attention and influence focused on them, the sad remains of the once mighty youma did what it was made to do. What it was specifically paired with the overzealous Tanzanite to accomplish.

It kept her alive... or something like it.

It pulled in the ashes of its host and wrapped itself protectively around the vile black hole that was Tanzanite's starseed. Unobserved for so long, seemingly forgotten, the amalgamation of energy and material had taken on this strange new life, with Tanzanite's ashes offering the only blueprint it had to rebuild her, particle by particle. Only by sheer luck had Alkaid been lured in to break her free in time, where she would wander back to the most powerful energy signal she could sense in an attempt to find... something.

There was uncertainty in her raspy whisper as she managed the unexpected words, “I'm sorry...”

Her voice shook, as her thoughts moved faster than she could process them, words vanishing as she tried to snatch them from the whirlwind.

“I tried to rebuild it, but... I couldn't. There was,” Tanzanite shook her head with an aggravated growl as she struggled to explain a process she barely even recalled, much less actually understood.

“There was no energy down there, they invaded and then.. then there was nothing and I had no... no,” Tanzanite shut her eyes tightly for a moment, “I had...”

Tanzanite seemed to struggle for breath between words, weak lungs unaccustomed to trying and failing at complex explanations. Her remaining hand wrapped around the bandaged stump, hiding the carefully wrapped remains of it as though ashamed by the failure to rebuild herself in full, to return as the same proud General-Queen she had once been. Tanzanite remained unaware that this was Metallia's ideal outcome. A chance for a new attempt at a more stable hybrid, but she simply hadn't had the time or resources to continue her experiment at the time.

Apparently, it had decided to just... continue itself.

There was still volatility, parts not yet synchronized, pieces not yet built. She gathered herself up like so many pieces of glass and forced them back into some semblance of a person. Tanzanite straightened to her full six foot height and tried to stand like a soldier should stand. Chin up, back straight, eyes ahead. There was an unpleasant sound of skin ripping beneath her dress, a grimace, and her posture slipped back into the slightly hunched, weakened thing she had come to be.

The knit of her brow barely concealed the anger and frustration. She could not, however, hide the mix of trepidation and confusion on the side of her face that was still strangely, delicately human in appearance.

“Laurelite...” Tanzanite’s eye locked with those of her monarch, and her voice steadied by sheer force of will. “I'm sorry."

For what, exactly, she was not entirely sure.

Tanzanite had failed.

In the Negaverse, there was simply no room for failure, and Tanzanite's inability to fully restore herself to her previous form was a failure for which she expected immediate reprimand. A death from which she could not return. Finally. Instead, she found... whatever this was.

Compassion? Concern? Fascination?

If there were a list of things typically unbecoming of Tanzanite, physical contact and vulnerability would be at the top of it.

But this was not a typical moment, and Laurelite... well, there was nothing typical about dainty little Laurelite. At best, Tanzanite had been a conduit for Metallia, a body strong enough to withstand the redirection of her power. Laurelite, however, knew their goddess in a way Tanzanite never had. Never would. Laurelite was her confidant, not her tool. Not her guinea pig. The stable ruler that the Negaverse needed, and one Tanzanite never could've been.

Such a heavy burden had been lifted from Tanzanite's shoulders, and yet she still sank to her knees at Laurelite's unspoken command. Despite a decade of slow decline into physical and mental destruction, peppered here and there with bouts of mass murder, Tanzanite remained unconditionally loyal. Obedient. How could she not? Her mangled starseed was held together by the powers of chaos alone, and without them she was nothing.

Now, even with them... she was nothing.

The thought caused her stomach to knot, or perhaps that was simply her youma-fused organs reacting to the thought of eating. Tanzanite silently shook her head in response to the question and wrapped her remaining arm across her stomach, bending forward to press her forehead against the cold stone. It was not a gesture of deference, nor exhaustion. While that bone-deep tiredness kept her dark-ringed eye shut, the far more comfortable position was assumed for a much more prudent reason.

Examination.

The ongoing process was usually hidden beneath her long, tangled nest of hair, but it was indeed a sight to behold... as long as one had a very strong stomach.

Her upper spine jutted out abnormally, pale skin stretched too tightly across the protruding black vertebrae. Muscles subtly squirmed and shifted beneath large patches of nearly translucent skin, where tiny nodules moved beneath the surface like worker ants. They emerged from and dove into her muscles in seemingly random patterns, working diligently to rearrange the existing matter of her body into its proper place.

A living puzzle, slowly being pieced back together.

“I should have been here,” she seethed out the words, unable to stomach the idea that their home had been tainted. It was their invasion that caused the necessity of Metallia focusing her efforts elsewhere. Somehow, everything always came back to the forces that dared call themselves good. Losing her arm. The torture of her soldiers. Turning into a giant god damn fire bird monster. It was always their fault. Senshi. Knights. It didn't matter.

And so the ever loyal Tanzanite had come there with two offerings for her queen. An apology, and a promise.

“I will take back,” she could stop neither her voice nor her body from trembling with anger, “everything they stole.”

It was quite a grand promise, and Tanzanite intended to keep it.

This was why Beryl had to go.

The Negaverse was an army, and Tanzanite still held fast to her belief in their chain of command. When the top of that chain was selfish and harmful to their own forces, using the Negaverse as a personal extension of themselves instead of Metallia... a changed had to be made. There was, perhaps, also an element of vengeance. The executed queen had taken something very precious to her, something she could never take back, no matter how hard she tried. No matter how many people she killed.

Tanzanite followed that chain right up until their leader betrayed her entire people, and she was still basking in the knowledge that the wicked b***h was dead. The Negaverse needed a better sovereign, neither too indifferent nor too passionate. Beryl had been the former, Tanzanite the latter, and Laurelite seemed to have found a comfortable balance between them.

The former General-Queen trusted their new queen for many reasons beyond her blind faith, and she rested her clawed hand upon Laurelite's and held it to her shoulder as in brushed across. Few people had ever dared touch Tanzanite since she became the first hybrid, and none in her time as a General-Queen. It was generally known that she had a preference to keep physical contact limited to direct combat or promotion.

The broken woman felt... different, and yet undeniably the same. It would take time and work and Metallia's blessing, but Tanzanite felt a deep certainty that she would find herself again. She had no other choice. Resilience and determination blazed brightly as Tanzanite lifted her head and looked up at her queen.

“I will remind them.”