Word Count: 1542

e been so busy fightin with getting herself to teleport, when it actually happened, Oumuamua hadn't been expecting it. For just a moment, anyhow, she felt the common 'wind' of trying, but then a light chill tickled her skin, and for a moment she had thought it to be another failure. But only for a moment. At last, Oumuamua looked up, and was greeted by a swathe of unfamiliar stars. No moon greeted her sight; no indication of a star on some other side of her world - for there was no doubt it was a sizeable world, but stars? Yes. Stars the twinkled and danced in the endless skies that Oumuamua stared at in silent awe several long minutyes before her gaze lowered. Light seemed almost magic; simpler glows of light that hung suspended over set pointys, nourishing plants huddled below them for light; moving and roiling like the flames they reminded her of; Oumuamua glanced one direction and spied a line of buildings, lights blazing inside, but no sign of any life. Oumuamua was quiet. Still. Beyond the plants, dead. The sight was almost haunting and eerie, aunting.

Even a graveyard had sound, after all.

The city sat in-situ, perhaps crumbling, but slowly and somehow seemed as if Oumuamua might pass in and out safely and unaccosted by such things as crumbling stone -- but while indecipherable signs and lights indicated that there had simply been life, the way it presented itself suggested life unlike Oumuamua might've expected. Light was cast not as lanterns, lamps, or ne'er-ending candle melt, but as simple, inexplicable lights tht defied science -- and pjusics. Sigils and symbology accompanied the writing she knew would be impossible even for the best codebreakers on Earth to decipher; gemstones and precious metals known and, she suspected, unknown decorated sights and all of it met her eyes as if a silent presentation, unspoken, and, perhaps, prepared. But, perhaps not. There had been fear and discord here. Homes and livelihoods abandoned, precious treasures left behind, cast off as if the owners expected to return -- until Oumuamua spied the small black granules remaining deep in an item and took a tiny pinch, feeling it. Smelling it. At last, planning to spit it out, she put one granule on the tip of her tongue and immediately spat it out and away, returning the black granules to the object and pulling out a water bottle she ptrolled with, drinking a moment before wrinkling her nose.

"Salt? Black salt?" She asked noone, and shook her head in disdain, standing again to look around. Black salt, deep in objects clearly not for cooking -- had some kind of cleansing ritual happened here? Oumuamua frowned, shaking her head before looking up, and spying an enourmous structure resembling a cathjedral, oretenatural light emanating from within like a beacon -- a sign, perhaps, to those long decomposed to dust and forgotten, and slowly, Oumuamua decided to make her way towards it. There were more than pot shards here, no simple structures, no nearly-disintergrated structures. Something in the air preserved this place, powered the strange light, filled the air with a latyent, static psychological energy that hung well over her head, as if something waited in expectation and at last, instead of approaching a thing, Oumuamua began approaching the cathedral. Perhaps there she could learn something about this world, a place her soul once dwelled perhaps in another life. On some level it was sad too -- another family, other people to love and lose, and Oumuamua felt a pang of sorrow for that, but as she walked, there was how things responded to her passing. The way cleared, as if something made sure her approach was clear. The senshi walked towards the cathedral as lights moved away, and only the odd cast-ouit and black-salted item was in her path as she walked along cobblestones. At last' at last she reached impossibly giant double doors and, experimentally, she pressed upon them, pushing them open with surprising ease before stepping in. Stained glass filled the walls, lights bordering each like candle sconces. A deep purple carpet led down an aisle between seats and for a moment she was surprised when a nearby fountain triggered, filling a small basic with surprisingly clean looking water, a quick glance telling her there had been an expectation of purification upon entering this place. Unsure what might happen if she left the water standing long, she reached, feeling mildly uneasy as it was with the world she walked, and rinsed her hands, a brush of the edge tipping the spent water into a grate and tunnel into the unseen. Hoping to habe evadfed some trap or penalty, she approached the massive altar slowly, and respectfully. Someone had worshipped here once, and they knew tricks she did not. The sanctuary was dark and unlit, and Oumuamua looked upon the altar curiously, amazed by the darkness of it and lightly placed an exploratory hand upon it. Something almost told her to press, a fleeting feeling, but she tried.

Amber cloudy liquid poured from one side of a channel, and on the right, another channel flowed with a clear darker liquid, but both smelled familiar -- alcoholic. Somehow, even eons later, she could see their ability to preserve this was impressive, but all the same, she dared not taste, and was glad not to reach when suddenly the mixing liquors ignited in a brilliant flame that climbed, reaching towards the distant cieling as it reaching to the gods themselves; a sight, she realized, holy. Sacred. The sanctuary now lit, she spied coins and gems upon the altar - offerings left behind as fragiule papers likely containing prayers were pressed into the altar itself, as if there was desperation in the final days of this place, too. She felt... Badly. As if somehow, she were responsible, and then looked up to see another sigil, if familiar, and more sculptural. It was golden, and pale wood. A humanoid being, similar, perhaps, to her fuku, and also differemt amd a;oem./ Amethysts were set in the eyes and firelight gleamed off... The brooch area. Barley, matching the symbology on her brooch enough not to be confusion, and her eyes went wide in a terrified panic, fearful, and suddenly, unsettled.

Did they -- did they worship their senshi? The thought frightened her. Senshi weren't gods -- they were people. She wasn't divine, just a complete nerd with magic, but to these people... To them, she might well be their god, a protector... Divinity.

"Lady Helios!" The man that approached moved brisky, glasses set on his nose neatly, and Helios turned, blinking deepo blue eyes at her childhood friend before smiling, affording him a giggle.

"You don't need titles with me, old friend. Please. It's... A lot already." She sighed, drawing a hand to her chest, and the man paused, then relaxed, nodding beore miing kindly. They'd groqwn up together, and when Helios became Oumuamua, became... Known as Them, she'd kept him close. A comfort. A companion. He understood why she feared the title between them because he knew her as Helios first, and despite their people demanding she take a position as... Her, she knew her best friend wouldn't let religion destroy their friendship.

"The people are asking what you plan to do, now that your training's over, Helios." He responded softly. The senshi set the world path, and so far, Oumuamua led them in trade, in saving their world after the death of it's star, in healing... Helios smiled, however, and looked skyward.

"Do you remember the Mauvians? The other worlds, how they always send someone to treat with us? Their emissaries?" Sge asked. Her childhood companion perked, nodding.

"Yes. Are you planning to meet them formally? As... As --"

"Not quite." Helios cut him off. "I want... To be my people's Emissary. We roam. Our route was set. But we can send new beacons, old friend! Meet new peoples, add to our path! And maybe someday..."

"...Rest by another star?" He breathed. "Then you would be... The Emissary? A servant?"

"Those with power should protect those whom cannot, old friend." Helios laughed with mirth, before reaching, taking his hanfds. "Like the ancient tales. With my Dear Companion."

He started, drawing back in surprise as her phrasing, and blinked.

"The Dearest Companion? But -- they can't be conclusively found. Not like Her. I... There's a chance I'm not..."

"That's okay. I'm still... Helios. Her name is in title alone, and I can choose a Dearest Companion for a friend, even if I wed. And... You were always there. Always with me. I choose you. I can trust you. Please... Will you join my travels as Emissary?" Helios looked pleadingly upon him, and he swallowed tightly before smiling, and then, he noidded.

"Yes."

"AHHHH. NOPE. NOPE SUPERNATURAL -- NOPE NOT TODAY." Oumuamua started from the memory in alarm, stepping back in fear as she turned on one heel to step back, looking again. Idols sat on the altar of a man remarkably like her memory, if the face was cut free of it -- identityless. Like Amarna on Earth, they wanted this man forgotted and black salt caked his idols. Something terrible had happened, and Oumuamua did not ask what for now. Instead, she fumbled with her phone in a panic, before disappearing in an instant for Earth, fearful of what she had learned.