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“Cybele?”

Ganymede had not gone out that night with the intention of finding her. While it was true that, ever since the incident downtown, Ganymede checked on every powerful Corrupt aura that flared to life on her radar, hoping that it might be Cybele, she knew better than to expect it. She had no idea where Cybele had gone, whether she would be punished for what the Negaverse might see as a weakness, or captured if she tried to leave.

But the hope, always present, remained difficult to suppress.

When Ganymede heard Cybele’s voice in the night, she could only sigh in relief.

“It’s me,” she said, drawing closer, but coming to a stop before she could invade Cybele’s personal space, holding her hands up in what she hoped was a placating fashion. “Are you alright? Have you been hurt?”

Benitoite’s threats still rang in her mind. Ganymede knew better than to dismiss them.

That the Negaverse hadn’t found her already must be some sort of miracle. Ganymede knew they had their ways; with some effort, they could hunt Cybele down easily enough. Perhaps they would lure her back, tempt her with darkness and power and all manner of seductive things. Perhaps they would threaten her, use what information they’d gained to force her into compliance. Or perhaps they would simply dispose of her, deem her unfit for duty and be done with it, and add her starseed to their collection.

Ganymede was not willing to accept any of those options — not as long as she had the power to help.

For now, Cybele was alive, and relatively uninjured, if a little tired and thin.

“What can I do?” Ganymede asked, nearly as calm as she’d been at the incident downtown, but with an edge of concern in her voice, of caution, because Cybele was in danger out here.

She was in danger everywhere.

“If you want to leave the Negaverse, I can power up and summon my crystal right now,” she offered, “but if you’re not ready, if you haven’t made up your mind, if you still need time, tell me what would help you, and I’ll whatever I can.”

With complete honesty, Ganymede said, “No. I can’t guarantee what would happen to you.”

She only had a handful of purifications under her belt, and two of that number were rescues from incomplete corruptions. She did not have enough experience or enough information to make any sort of factual claim about Cybele’s situation. The only circumstance she had to compare it to was Cyllene, but Cybele and Cyllene were different people with different identities, different thoughts and emotions, different opinions, different starseeds. The results could be similar, or distinct from one another.

“There’s no way to know until the purification is complete,” she explained. “You might only lose some of your memories. You might lose everything. You might remember things from your life before this, you might not. I don’t know. Purification is healing, but healing can be difficult.”

Ganymede could not blame Cybele for having doubts. There were too many unknowns. It was often easier and safer to remain on a path that offered some sort of familiarity, hollow as it might be.

That Cybele was considering it at all fueled the fire of hope in Ganymede’s heart.

“But no matter what happens, you will have my help,” she said. “You will have the help of everyone who supports me. My family. My friends. My allies. You won’t have to hide anymore. You can live how you want, fight how you want, sacrifice what you’re willing to sacrifice and protect what you want to protect.”

Hesitantly, worried that her next statement might backfire on her, Ganymede continued, “The last time we saw one another before your corruption, we spoke of worlds beyond this city. You told me at the time that you didn’t want your asteroid to become more important to you than Destiny City, and I respect that wholeheartedly. Destiny City is our home. But the part of me that's grown attached to Ganymede, that remembers things beyond this life, likes to think that the forests and the purple skies of Cybele are waiting for you.”

Years ago, the thought of any of her allies committing the sort of atrocities the Negaverse engaged in would have angered her, would have set her off on some self-righteous tangent about good and evil. At the very least, she would have been disappointed, perhaps tried to sway them from that violence.

But she’d learned over the years that some things could not be avoided. In Cybele’s case, she’d been doing what was expected of her, taking starseeds whenever opportunity allowed. That she was not bothered by it was no great surprise. This was war, fantastical as it always seemed. War was darkness and brutality, no matter where or how it took place.

Even if it had bothered Cybele, the Chaos might have compelled her to do it anyway. Perhaps it was better that she didn’t mind. Guilt could be a terrible burden.

“You can have a family,” Ganymede assured her. “Friends can be a family, regardless of blood. You won’t be alone, Cybele.”

Ganymede offered a smile in return, small and tentative, overjoyed to reach this moment, but cautious still.

“It will be an honor to fight by your side again,” she continued, “and it will be my privilege to help you acclimate to a new life. Whatever that life becomes. I’ll do whatever I can to help you thrive.”

Life, in spite of all the evil in the world, could be so beautiful.

Stepping forward, Ganymede offered her hand, then paused, thinking the gesture too formal. She smiled again, encouraging, and held her arms just open enough to offer a hug, if Cybele would accept one.

“I’ll always fight for you.”

Ganymede held her, not so tight as to be suffocating, but enough to convey her support, to bear some of the heavy weight that came with loneliness and fear. Eyes welling, Ganymede allowed herself time to revel in relief. Stubbornly, she held back the tears. This was Cybele’s moment, not hers.

When Cybele stepped back again, Ganymede released her slowly, keeping her hands on Cybele’s shoulders long enough to ensure that Cybele had recovered.

“I do,” she said, summoning her phone upon request. “I’m not sure I’ve ever met an Alya before, but it shouldn’t be too hard to get a message to him.”

Ganymede was unsurprised to see that Alya was not in her contacts. She patrolled less than she used to, and met less people than she used to as a result. These days, most of her contacts were allies from over half a decade ago, many of whom she hadn’t seen in years.

But the connections app proved beneficial. She found Alya’s profile, skimmed it quickly, and attempted to get in touch. If she had to leave a message then she’d leave a message, but for Cybele’s sake, she hoped for a more expedient outcome.

“Hi, Alya, my name’s Ganymede. Sorry to get all stalkery and hunt you down through the app, but I’m here with Cybele and she’d like to talk, if possible. It looks like we’ve got a purification on our hands.” She paused, eyes on Cybele again, and asked, "Did you want him here? I can text our location. Or..." She offered Cybele her phone.

Alya was not always the most diligent Senshi, and his penchant for self preservation meant that he didn’t really like to patrol alone, or anywhere that might get him into a fight.

It might have been a fluke that he was powered up tonight, or it might have been fate. There had never been any urgency when it came to answering his phone before, and it was absentmindedly that he drew it out at all.

There was a call from someone he didn’t know, which was strange in itself, but not so much that he was in any way alarmed--until he heard what she was saying. Until he heard Cybele.

“--Cybele?” he blurted, because certainly Ganymede was important for connecting them, but he’d had Cybele on his mind for so long that it felt like this was either a joke or a dream. He pressed his phone tightly to his face, like he was afraid of missing something if he didn’t. “Yes, tell me where you are. I’m out right now, but if you give me a few minutes, I can be anywhere. I’ve been worried sick.”

Ganymede had said purification. He’d heard enough of Cybele’s softer voice to know that she’d seemed to want him to know where they were--and he wanted to be there, badly.

Now.

Cybele had not completely softened, even at Ganymede's embrace or the sound of Alya's voice over the phone, but she felt secure enough about the situation to turn her back to Ganymede while she sent out a few more texts. She needed to keep an eye on her surroundings. It was a habit she'd picked up over the last week while she'd been half-waiting for one trap or another to spring.

The question had her whirling back around, staring at Ganymede with the same intense, indecisive gaze that she'd worn in their previous encounters.

"Sylvite," she said after a moment.

Traitor, said a voice in the back of her head, although it was a voice that was possible to push past.

Sylvite gave empty compliments and always expected things in return. The Negaverse claimed to have saved her, but what they had done to her had happened against her will.

On the other hand, Alya must have dropped everything to come and be there for her. She could feel his aura drawing closer and closer, already. Ganymede was working tirelessly to ensure her safety, even though her dress was still black. They'd both offered her kindness on the field of battle, when they would have had every right to turn against her. They'd both asked what she wanted.

It was clear, now, who her friends were. It was clear who her friends had always been.

"I don't remember any of it, but I've heard the story from a few sources," she said, her tone even again, although her voice was quiet. "I was running a training event at the end of last summer. It was ambushed. Sylvite was targeting me, all though I'm not sure why." It was one of those times where she felt like something might have happened, but it was lost at the edge of her memories.

"She was the one leading the attack, and I woke up with her hand in my chest. General-King Axinite gave her the power for the corruption."

Cybele might have said more, but her train of thought was cut off by the Order aura growing very close. She glanced over her shoulder once more, this time looking for the other Eternal.