Chapter 1

The sun rose, its yellow orange glow slowly rolling across a ravaged land. Once, where life flourished, little remained. As the sun climbed higher in the aqua sky, it illuminated destruction on such a wide spread scale that it seemed unbelievable anything had survived. On the edge of what used to be a gilded road, four young females stood, trying to take it all in. In the distance, the wind whistled through the broken remains of what was once a magnificent castle, causing it to almost moan as if in pain. Kakyuu sagged against Fighter, unable to even fathom the destruction.

The Leader of the Starlights put an arm around the smaller woman's shoulders as the Princess of the Red Cerces Kingdom tried to digest what she saw. When Kakyuu had fled, the destruction had already been under way, but this was far worse than even the Starlights had left it. Fighter swallowed hard. What if they had stayed, she wondered, her soul screaming in pain. Would it have made a difference? Deep in her heart, she knew it would not have. Things had played out the way that they had for a reason. As much as it galled her to admit, the Princess had been right to go in search of the Light of Hope. The black haired Starlight only wished she'd have told them first, face to face, rather than leaving in the middle of the night, a note their only lead to where she had gone.

Healer took a shaky step forward, trembling. Gone. Everything. Gone. She knew what it would be like to return. They all had known. But nothing could have prepared them for this. Her vision blurred as she stood, mutely, staring at what amounted to a giant mountain of rubble. She dashed the back of her gloved hand across her eyes as she felt a hand fall on her shoulder. Turning, she felt Maker grip her shoulder harder, eyes dilated with internal pain. Healer gripped her hand and leaned back into her friend for support.

At least they had each other.

* * *

Fighter guided Kakyuu over to the remains of some marble stairs. "Stay here, Hime. We're going to scout around a bit." She placed her hand on her Princess’ shoulder and tried to look into her garnet-colored eyes. Kakyuu would not meet her gaze, however. She looked at her hands, which she had folded neatly in her lap. Heart aching, Fighter stood up and looked to the others. Healer looked away while Maker shrugged. "Let's see what we can find." With that, the trio split up, each heading to a different wing of the castle.

In its original design, Dankei was formed in an 'U' shape; the front of the structure was actually the bottom of the 'U'. It was made out a white material, akin to marble, which glowed with a soft, rosy inner light when the sun hit it just so. Dankei was old, far older than Fighter could remember. It had been lost on several occasions, when the magnificent forest around it swallowed it back up. This usually happened during times in which the Senshi hadn't been reborn in a timely manner.

Now it was rubble, and the forest around it was cinders.

Maker carefully picked her way across the debris, heading for what she hoped was the royal kitchens. In her logical mind, the first thing the group needed was provisions. Everything else could wait.

The rising sun illuminated far more than the tall Senshi would have liked. It glittered halfheartedly across the destruction, its bright rays bringing sharp contrasts to the eye. It almost seemed surreal. Some of the oddest things stuck out in Maker's mind; a column here, an intact window there, a broken staircase going up to a floor that no longer existed. Much of the debris was blackened; the once pristine white surfaces black with soot. Huge lumps of the stuff seemed to be clustered around near where the throne room had been. Maker could not imagine the intensity of the fire it would have taken to do that. Shivering despite the sun warming her fighting leathers, Maker moved on.

The rubble was thick about the kitchens, but the cooking area itself was clear. After a brief inspection, Maker was able to see why. Several of the cooking units were gas powered. Simply put, the stoves - and their gas lines- had exploded with tremendous force. If she had to hazard a guess, the brunette would have guessed that someone had deliberately filled the stoves with gas before setting them off. Standing at the blast radius, she could see exactly how the damage was done. The walls were destroyed from within, because of the gas pipes. In the kitchen itself, the explosion pressed outward in a half-hemisphere, blowing everything backwards. Against one far wall was a scorch mark. Something about it sent shivers down Maker’s spine. Then she realized what it was - it was in the shape of a human body. The brunette's stomach lurched as she noted that there was nothing left of whomever that was, just the outline of the body. Tearing her violet eyes away from the gruesome spectacle, she began to search through the debris for something useful.

* * *

Fighter shielded her eyes with a gloved hand. The sun had risen high in the eastern sky, beating down mercilessly on her dark hair and shoulders. It seemed hotter than usual; the fact that there were no living plants and trees to help regulate the temperatures worldwide might have something to do with that fact. Maker would know better than she, though Fighter was far from stupid. Her sole problem was her lack of attention in school. Or, worse, having her attention focused in areas that were not strictly academic. Sports, for instance...

'Speaking of academics,' Fighter thought to herself as she blinked in surprise, 'physics says that that tower should not be standing anymore.' One of the guard towers stood before her, its thin, needle-like spire thrusting up from the wreckage around it. The outer walls had more holes than Swiss cheese, and yet it still stood. It was from here, more than anywhere else, that the lonely, mourning sound was coming from. The wind was stronger here, blowing dust everywhere. As it struck the tower, the tower groaned, not so much from the structural damage but from the holes gaping in it. It was almost like a skeletal flute, Fighter thought with a shiver.

How in the world were they going to fix all this? And this was just Dankei. What about the rest of the planet?

Fighter took a deep breath, and did her best to push back the despair that was trying to crush her. It was hard, but she did it, fighting against her very nature. Someone had once called her "super-pessimistic", but that wasn't entirely true. She considered herself a "realistic optimist" - meaning, she liked to believe that everything would work out in the end. She just happened to know better. With that cheery thought in mind, the Leader of the Starlights started to shift through the debris to see what she might find.

A moment later, her headset phased in. Keying up the mic, she responded, "Fighter here."

"It's Maker. I think I found something."

Thank the Gods, Fighter thought to herself, standing and dusting herself off. "Where are you?"

"In the kitchens."

Healer joined in the com-link. "Do you want me to head over there?"

"No," Fighter responded, "I'll go ahead. If you find anything, radio in. If not, check on Hime, ok?"

"Acknowledged. Healer out."

"If you have trouble finding me, look for the huge melted slab," Maker directed. "That was the throne room. I'm about 200 yards or so to the west of that. Look for the stack of boulders."

Fighter sighed. "That pretty much describes everything I've seen so far. Fighter out." With that, she made her way through the devastation to where Maker should be.

* * *

The debris was thick here, as the ceiling had crashed down in places - where it was not obliterated outright. Fighter made her way over to where Maker stood, next to what appeared to be a partially intact wall. It stood about two feet high, laced with bits of debris, both large and small. Maker pointed to what appeared to be steps leading down. Unfortunately, a huge slab of some sort of stone had fallen in at an angle, blocking the way down. Behind the stone, the outlines of a door could be seen.

"What was this? The kitchens?" Fighter asked, getting down on one knee and peering into the darkness. The stairway was narrow, with stout walls on either side. The architecture here had been done quite well, at least well enough to withstand the destruction that had ravaged the rest of the castle, at any rate.

"Yes. Which means this should be a pantry or some sort of cellar." Maker and Fighter exchanged glances and thought the same thing: food. They were going to be in dire need of supplies. If they could find a food cache intact, it would ease their burden considerably. "Do you think you could cut your way through that?" the taller Senshi queried, nodding to the fallen slab.

Fighter's blue eyes narrowed as she studied the rubble critically. "I think so. I just don't want any of this stuff shifting and falling on me, though." She ran a gloved hand over the slab thoughtfully as Maker turned to examine the mess.

The tall woman picked her way carefully around the debris, studying it from all sides. It appeared as though the slab was simply resting there and not actually supporting any of the debris heaped above and around the doorway. She ducked her head under the opening, trying to see. Yes. Several thick cross-beams supported the rest of the rubble. Removing the slab shouldn't cause a problem, and she told Fighter this. "Think you can vaporize the whole slab?" she asked thoughtfully, moving back to where Fighter stood. With that object out of the way, it should be a simple matter of opening the door.

Fighter sucked in a deep breath. "Yeah, I think so," she said after a moment's consideration. It would take a lot of energy to vaporize a stone of that size. "*If* you promise to catch me when I pass out," she amended.

The brunette moved in position behind Fighter and knelt. "Of course, Mighty Leader," Maker replied sardonically. She resisted the urge to smirk as she saw Fighter's shoulders droop. The Leader of the Starlights hated with a passion the nickname Yaten had tagged to her.

"You've been hanging around the Pipsqueak too much," Fighter grumbled, a ruddy aura beginning to surround her athletic frame.

As the light coalesced, Maker shrugged. "I still owe you for decking me."

As Fighter reached out to place both hands firmly against the obstruction, she shrugged. "If you think you are getting an apology from me, don't hold your breath." Concentrating, she forced the glow from her into the stone. Beads of sweat formed on her brow from the strain of trying to destroy such a large amount of matter. The glow reached a peak, flared brilliant red for a moment, and then slab disappeared in a shower of dust. The aura disappeared from around Fighter, her energy spent. It left her feeling sick and hollow inside. Swooning from expending so much energy, she allowed the dizziness to claim her and fell back. Her head rang like a gong as it slammed into the marble floor. From somewhere above her she heard Maker's voice.

"You're right. I won't. But I still owe you."

As Fighter's head continued to swim, she lifted a shaking hand and waved it in the general direction of the door. "Fine. You just volunteered yourself to be the first to open the door. Enjoy."

Standing up and dusting off her leathers, Maker regarded her teammate. "And if the ceiling gives way and crushes me?"

Without opening her eyes, Fighter responded, "Then we'll see you in about 15 years."

Maker resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she headed down the stairs. "Thanks. Ever so reassuring, considering there's no one left currently to give birth to our next forms. Ever think of that, Mighty Leader?" she asked as she examined the door carefully. It looked solid enough.

"I guess that means we'd have to find out the answer to the question that kept nagging you back on Earth," Fighter said with some amusement.

Maker blanched and tried the door. It was stuck. "Whether or not our altered forms can procreate? I do *not* want you as my father, thank you very much." Giving it a firm tug, the door slid open approximately three inches.

Fighter struggled to sit up, the back of her head pounding. "Hey! Who said I'd be your father?" With a groan, she lay back down.

"Because," Maker answered wryly, "Kakyuu cannot, and Yaten will not. That's why." She looked around and found a long pipe lying amongst the debris. Hefting it thoughtfully she muttered "Lever" and set to work.

A bark of laughter escaped Fighter's lips before she thought the better of it. She groaned at the pain it caused. "I think you can call us even. Damn, Maker, that hurt!" Pushing herself into an upright position, she slowly opened her eyes. They immediately slammed shut when she realized what a mistake that was.

"And your fist didn't?" Maker asked rhetorically, pushing on the pipe she'd wedged between the door and the jam. The door slid reluctantly forward another few inches, scraping along the debris holding it shut and sending a shower of pebbles and dust raining down on Maker's head. Coughing, she readjusted her grip in the pipe.

Opening one blue eye experimentally, Fighter responded, "Well, what would you have done if you were me, hey?" The room slowly stopped spinning, so she opened her other eye.

"I would have never come up with such an asinine scheme to begin with," the tall woman snapped, giving the door one last, fierce shove. It opened wide enough so that either of the slender women could slip through with ease. "Your door is open, oh Mighty Leader." Turning, she gave Fighter a low bow, then straightened, regarding the look on her friend's face curiously.

Fighter stared at Maker, her jaw working soundlessly. What little color she'd been regaining drained away again. "But it worked, didn't it?" she asked quietly, almost defensively.

Maker shrugged and turned away. "I suppose." She left it at that. They'd had this argument before; when they first got to Earth, and a good portion of the time while they were there. Whether it worked or not really didn't matter. They were home now. Maker picked up a small rock and concentrated on it, causing it to glow with a soft, violet light. She stepped to the door, waiting for Fighter to follow. When she did not, the brunette turned to scowl back up the stairs.

Seeing the scowl, Fighter snapped her mouth shut and stood, albeit a little shakily at first. Carefully, she picked her way down the stairs to where the taller woman stood. With out a word, she took the light stone from Maker and slid past her into the storage room. Holding it high, she examined her surroundings.

Before her was what Earthians might term a "root cellar". It was quite large, roughly two hundred square feet wide and twice that long. In the gloom, Fighter could make out racks, shelves and boxes all thrown into complete disarray. Here and there, a fallen support beam jutted almost perpendicular to the floor, but the room seemed moderately intact - at least towards the front. The athletic woman stepped around a beam and felt her stomach lurch. "Oh, Gods weep..."

Maker step forward and then blanched. There were people down here. Or, more accurately - corpses. It appeared as if some of the kitchen staff had tried to make the root cellar a haven, thinking that its stout walls would keep them safe. One such person lay crushed under a shelf. From the condition of the body, Maker realized that she had died of dehydration after becoming trapped under the shelf. As Fighter moved forward, the illumination spread to show legs sticking out from under a particularly large chunk of ceiling, a river of dried blood pooling around it. Maker covered her mouth with a gloved hand, eyes widening in horror. There were sixteen bodies in all, most of whom the young women recognized. These were the women who worked so hard, day after day, to care for and feed Kakyuu and her Senshi. They were like family. With almost cold detachment, Maker realized she was trembling.

Fighter turned slowly, face blank. "Let's take what we can salvage and get out of here." There was no emotion in her tone. Nothing.

Maker nodded and the pair went about their grisly task. As they did so, Fighter's own words came back to haunt her:

"You'll never understand the pain of the survivors."

Indeed.

* * *

Healer crossed her arms over her chest and smirked. "Well I'll be damned." Of all the luck! It was a bloody, fricking miracle. Keying up her mic, she beeped in to the others. "You are not going to believe what I found," she relayed through the com-link.

"I hope it's better than what we found." Maker's voice sounded quite shaken, the petite senshi realized with a bit of apprehension. When she inquired about it, Maker brushed it aside with a simple "I'll tell you later."

Knowing she'd get no better, at least until later, Healer went back to the matter at hand. "Anyway, I thought you might be interested to know that our living room and most of Maker's room are still standing. Mostly." She could not stop the smug tone that creeped into her voice.

"My room?" Maker sounded astonished.

"Uh huh," Healer confirmed, walking around and examining the structure critically. "I thought you might like to know that your laptop survived, though I don't know where you keep the power cels for it."

"Yes!" Maker hissed, then asked eagerly, "And my spectral scanner?" Healer could almost picture the tall brunette practically salivating.

Healer ran a gloved hand through silvery hair and replied, "The main unit is flatter than a pancake, but I think one of the handhelds survived."

"I suppose it's asking too much to think one of the replicators survived..."

At that, Healer snorted. "Do you think we'd be so lucky? Hardly." With a sigh, she headed back out to the living room. "No such luck, my friend. And what little we *do* have is dusty, dirty, and broken. I need you to take a look at the structure, to tell me what I need to shore up to make this livable."

Surprisingly, it was Fighter who spoke next. "Maker, go help Healer. I'll finish up here." Healer almost stumbled when she heard her Leader's voice. It had never sounded so cold, emotionless. What in the Nine Hells had happened?

"But-" Maker started to protest, but Fighter cut her off.

"Go. I said I'll finish up here."

"But what about the bodies?" *That* made Healer's skin crawl, almost as much as Fighter's tone.

"I'll take care of them." Healer knew that meant Fighter would turn them to dust, after grabbing a bit to preserve for Maker to replicate later. No wonder those two sounded so odd. Healer couldn't help but feel cold all over. "Now go."

There was a long pause, then, "Fine. Maker out."

"Fighter out."

Healer keyed off her mic and leaned against a broken wall, shivering uncontrollably. It was only the beginning, she knew.

Sometimes she really hated being Senshi.

* * *

After recovering herself from her initial shock, Kakyuu forced herself to stand and look around. The wholesale destruction took her breath away. But for the sake of her people, she would look. She would remember. She would always remember.

It was the inconsistencies that really stood etched in her mind. Here, an intact statue. There, a slender spire reaching for the sky, like a drowning man throwing an arm up from a sea of rubble. The castle itself looked like a giant child had played hop-scotch across it, smashing flat most of it, but leaving one or two bits of it standing. Not necessarily intact, but standing. Turning east, her breath caught. The gardens! The hedge maze! They were...

Unable to stop herself, the petite Princess sprinted across the burnt lawns, unable to believe what she was seeing. There, in the midst of all that destruction was an island of peace. The Eastern Gardens still stood! Tears sprang into her garnet eyes as she ran closer. Hedges badly in need of a trimming stood as sentinels over the various natural wonders held within. Purple kalila vines ran amok amongst the tekla blossoms, but she didn't care. It was a miracle! Reaching out, she touched a blue-veined leaf from a kehora tree, needing to feel it as though to make it real. How was this possible? The Kinmokuans had flown briefly around the circumference of the globe before landing. All they had seen was destruction. Was it possible other islands of life could be found?

She sincerely hoped so.

A voice on the wind suddenly caught Kakyuu's attention. Turning, she saw Healer and Maker calling for her, close to where they had left her by the marble stairs. Emitting her fragrance, which was Kakyuu's way of getting her Senshi’s attention rather than yelling, the petite woman made her way back to the steps. As she approached, both Healer and Maker saluted her, bowing deeply from the waist, one arm back, the other crossing their breastplates to rest their hands, closed-fisted, above their hearts. The gesture was brief, and the Princess accepted it with a nod as the pair rose.

"We've found shelter and supplies," Maker stated, going directly to the heart of the matter. "With your permission, Healer will attempt to shore up the room, while I start transporting supplies." Seeing Kakyuu's delicate fiery eyebrow arch slightly, Maker continued. "Our old rooms are partially intact. However, we need to reinforce the structure in various points, just to be safe. With Healer's ability to bind and my ability to create, we should be able to make the apartments habitable."

Kakyuu nodded, quite pleased. Her Starlights were amazing and again she thanked the Heavens that these three capable women were her Senshi. She couldn't have asked for more. Garnet eyes scanned the distance, looking for the Head of her guard. Fighter's distinct black hair and black fighting leathers should have stuck out like a sore thumb in relation to the white and dust of the rubble, but the young woman was nowhere to be found. Turning to the pair beside her, she addressed this.

Healer shifted uncomfortably, and Maker looked at the ground as if she was choosing her words carefully. This gave Kakyuu pause. "Fighter is taking care of some... unpleasant business down in the cellars," the tall brunette answered slowly, her face carefully neutral. "She will be along shortly." From the choice of words and the quietness of her tone, Kakyuu realized that they must have found something dreadful. Leave it to her beloved guardians to try and shield her from it. Squaring her shoulders, she was about to speak until Maker shook her head briefly in the negative. "We will face enough hardships, by and by. All of us." A brief, haunted look spasmed across Maker's face, then it stilled. Extending a hand, the tall woman reached out to her Princess. "Come."

Kakyuu took the hand and was unsurprised to find it shaking. With Maker leading, the trio made their way across the rubble, heading for what would hopefully be a safe place to rest.

* * *

Steeling herself, Fighter went back down into the cellar, the glowstone clenched hard in her gloved fist. The Leader of the Starlights had sent Maker away to spare her what had to come. It would be very hard even for someone as clinical as Maker could be when necessary. Fighter had finally heard Taiki laugh for the first time in ages, and she didn't want to see her friend lose that. Perhaps she would anyway, Fighter thought cynically, considering all of the difficult work that remained, but she had to try and preserve it as long as possible. She walked over to a set of shelves and picked out what she'd need: a knife, some storage bags, and a box to carry it all in. Then, swallowing the lump that seemed to have formed in her throat, she moved to the first body and knelt.

Taryn. Jaw clenched, the Starlight reached out and gently stroked the long, ash blonde hair. Laughing eyes as blue as her own, now closed in death. Tears came unbidden as Fighter lifted a lock of that once luxurious hair, remembering. She used to tease Taryn to distraction; tripping her in the halls while she carried linens, tossing pebbles into her ample cleavage that her staff uniform revealed just to make her blush. Seiya couldn't help herself; the girl had been lovely, and the young Starlight had always been such an incorrigible flirt. Seeing Taryn like this, face constricted in pain, nearly broke the young Senshi's heart. With an animal-like snarl, she pulled the knife and cut a lock of hair, tossing it into one of the smaller storage bags, then putting it in the box. To have been trapped, slowly dying of dehydration; Fighter couldn't imagine what kind of Hell it had been like for her friend. To know others were dead or slowly dying around you; trapped in the dark amongst the dead. Tears fell like rain as Fighter laid her hands on Taryn's corpse, summoning her power. In less than a few heartbeats, she was gone. Only dust remained.

With a growl, Fighter stood, gathered her things, and moved to the next corpse. This time it was Brisa, Taryn's mother. It appeared as though her back had been broken by the same set of shelving as it fell. Where Taryn's lower torso had been trapped, the main beam had slammed into the center of Brisa's back, killing her instantly. The young Starlight said a prayer, thanking the Gods for their kindness. It was the least Brisa deserved. Up until the day she had caught a certain black-haired Senshi flirting outrageously with her daughter, Brisa had been like a second mother to Seiya. And even after, truth be told. Even then. Reaching out and unwinding Brisa's straw-like hair from its usual bun, Fighter sniffled. Ever the dutiful mother, Brisa had often bustled four beaten and bloody Senshi into their respective beds, cleaned them up and nursed them back to health - Healer's power notwithstanding. "We'll bring you back," Fighter whispered, cutting a length of hair and putting it in its own bag. "I promise." With that, the Destroyer did her work again.

The next body was the hardest. Fighter wasn't even sure who it had been, though by the size and dress, she would have to guess at Old Karu. How the old grandmother had made it down the stairs was beyond her. Rounding the large stone, she found the answer. Ryu must have carried her. When the stone fell, Fighter noted with a bit of detachment, it must have come from a large tremor. It looked like Ryu stumbled as the ceiling gave way, smashing him flat on one side and her on the other. A bit of Ryu's dark brown hair stuck out from under the slab, but Karu? Fighter felt bile rise in her throat when she realized she'd have to take another part of her to replicate. Maker could generate a new body from any part; Fighter preferred to gather hair because it was bloodless.

There were sixteen bodies in all. Each one carried its own set of memories. These were people who Fighter had had dealings with daily over the past few years. They were the people she'd sworn to protect.

And they were dead. Every last one of them.

The Kinmokuan Senshi had faced impossible odds before and persevered. Maybe not *survived*, but they persevered. But this? Who could stand up to such magnificent slaughter? Such wholesale madness? Such *power*?

Odango had.

It had taken a young, naive girl on the other side of the galaxy to stop the menace that was Galaxia. Fighter tried to console herself by reminding herself that she did the best she could, but in the end it seemed cold comfort. Uranus had taunted them about losing their Princess. What kind of Senshi were they to let the one most dear to them slip away? Then after finding her, to let her die?

Guilt, stronger than anything she'd ever felt before, flooded her being. What kind of Senshi was she? "I would have never come up with such an asinine scheme to begin with," Maker had said. A real leader would have come up with a better plan, is what Maker had implied. A real leader would have kept her mind on business, and not fallen in love.

Odango...

Fighter sat on the floor of the cellar, her box of grisly trophies clutched to her chest, rocking back and forth, lost in a sea of despair. Lost in the pain of being one of the survivors.

* * *

They surveyed the room together. The Starlights’ apartments comprised a large portion of the bottom level of the East wing, beneath the royal apartments. Each Starlight had their own room, with its own little private patio. (Many was the time that Fighter would throw flowers up on Kakyuu's balcony, occasionally showering the petite Princess with petals just to get her to smile.) The private rooms were reached via a spacious living area; this is where the trio would relax and unwind. The Americans on Earth would have called it a living room, but on a much grander scale. Like all of Dankei, the room was made out of a white, slightly iridescent, marble-like substance. However, over this was much dark paneling trimmed in gold. Fine, thick rugs covered the floors, of ancient weave and design.

As the pair had said, much of the main living area was intact, though everything was dirty and covered with a fine coat of dust and soot. Kakyuu's apartments overhead had been sheared clean off, as if someone were knocking over building blocks. Sadly, much of the debris had landed on Fighter’s, Healer’s and part of Maker's private rooms, crushing them flat. However, other than where some of the ceiling had given way and the cracks in various parts of the walls, the living area was inhabitable. Bits of fallen stone had damaged some of the furniture, but it was salvageable. All the glass was gone, Kakyuu noted, as if some violent storm had blown it out. Completely gone, she realized, as she didn't seem to see any telltale shards. Oh my...

"I want to remove the paneling," Healer was saying, stepping into the room to lay a hand on one of the marble pillars that was holding up the ceiling, "to see how far the damage has gone. There could be fractures under the paneling, and we'd never know it." Peridot eyes scanned the room, looking for flaws. There were many, but thankfully they were minor. "I propose shoring up there, there, and there," she added, pointing to various cracks, "and when I've rested, I'll try and seal up the door." The small woman hiked a thumb back at the door way, which was intact, but the doors were currently imbedded in the opposite wall.

For some reason, this struck Kakyuu as funny and she giggled. Both her Senshi gave her strange looks, but she couldn't help herself. The sight of those two, massive, gilded doors stuck firmly to the wall as if it had been made of clay made her want to laugh. Or cry. All of it made her want to laugh until she cried. Feeling the moisture gather in her eyes, the regal Princess forced herself to calm down. It would not do to frighten her friends like this, with this wild, slightly insane tittering. The worried look on Healer's face brought her back to herself; she inclined her head in acknowledgement, pulling her emotions firmly under rein.

"With your permission?" Healer asked after a moment, gesturing to the room. At Kakyuu's nod, the silver-haired Senshi approached the first crack and laid her hands on it, while Maker walked around and started pulling the paneling off the wall. Closing her eyes, she concentrated, calling upon her unique ability to bind and heal. She pulled from deep within herself, feeling the warmth and spark of her Star Seed, directing it and willing it to heal the wounds of this inanimate object. She knew without looking that a soft, green glow would surround her, then slowly leak into the wall as the magic did its work. When she felt that she could heal no more, she let go of the spark, drawing the left over energy within herself. She kept her eyes closed, knowing the room was going to spin worse if they were open. After the worst of the sickness left, she opened her eyes to see the results.

Maker was already inspecting the wall, running a black-gloved hand lightly over the surface as she walked along. Coming to one of the larger breaches, she paused long enough to pick up a stone. It was part of the wall itself, where it had broken. Carefully, she held the piece in her long, slender fingers, touching it to the inside of the crevice. Narrowing her eyes to slits, she gathered her own power and sent it spiraling into the fragment. The chip started to grow, and Maker directed it to fill the gap. Once it was of sufficient size and shape, she stepped back to let Healer mend the pieces together into an unblemished wall.

Kakyuu watched from the doorway, amazed as always, at how her team always worked in harmony together. At least when it counted, she amended, knowing full well that the personalities of these particular incarnations tended to fight a lot. However, the red-haired woman knew that behind the arguments, the bond ran strong - perhaps stronger than ever before. She hoped so, because she knew that in the months to come, the four of them would need every last advantage they had. Being reborn just might be easier, the Princess thought with a sigh, then pushed that morbid thought away.

No, she had decided, though she had not spoken with her friends of her decision. It would be so much easier for the four of them to pour out their unified light to heal the world. But at what cost? How long would their newly healed home be undefended? Fifteen years, at least before the next generation of Senshi would come of age - and only if they were reborn right away. That they would be reborn there was no doubt. But the regal Princess had no intention of going that route, the route of death and rebirth, unless absolutely necessary. She believed in her Senshi. Together, they would find a way to bring the world back without costing them their lives.

The click of a heel on stone behind her caused Kakyuu to turn around. Before her stood Fighter. How pale she looked against the black of her leathers, her face devoid of almost all color. Far worse were her eyes, which usually shown with a merry light. The eyes that regarded her were flat. No telltale red rimmed her eyes; no, she had not been crying. She then noticed the box under one arm, and the dust that clung to her fuku. "Fighter..." Kakyuu murmured softly, concerned.

Fighter blinked as if coming out of a trance; as if Kakyuu's soft voice had rousted her from a dream. Immediately, she dropped into a graceful bow, fist over heart, then stood just as smoothly. The brevity was almost impertinent, but Kakyuu knew Fighter well enough now that impertinence had nothing to do with it. She was simply a woman of action, and while the athletic woman would still herself for her Princess, and only for her Princess, her energy simply could not be contained.

There was something different about her now, Kakyuu noted, as Fighter moved into the room. Her gait wasn't as sure as it once was. Without words, she watched as Fighter's blue eyes roamed about the room, taking in everything with a neutral face. She seemed almost listless as she moved amongst the broken and dirty furnishings, drifting to set the box on a table.

Abruptly, she turned to face the others. "If this is to be our base of operations," she stated calmly, quietly, "then we need to start moving the supplies here. We need to see about clothing and blankets, and we need to see what is currently functioning, if anything. Do we have running water?" After Healer and Maker shook their heads in the negative, she continued. "What about the bathing and rest rooms?"

"Smashed flat," Healer answered sourly.

Fighter pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, trying to stem the headache budding behind her eyes. "What if we cleared the rubble? Do you think anything could be salvaged?"

Maker and Healer exchanged shrugs. "It's possible," the smaller woman replied slowly, "but I highly doubt it. Not unless we expend a great deal of energy."

At this, Kakyuu stepped forward. "Perhaps later, but not just yet." She looked at each of her Senshi in turn, collecting their gazes. "It is my thought that we will rebuild slowly, one area at a time. First, we must work on returning the flora in the immediate area, then insect life and small animals. We need to create small geo-systems before all else. We need to have the plants bring life to the atmosphere. Maker, you will instruct us in the proper order to bring each system back. We'll start with Dankei first, and then move outward. Once we have an ecosystem working in an area, then we will see about repairing the buildings and bringing back our loved ones."

The three Senshi exchanged glances, considering the wisdom in this. They had suspected a similar route, and they were not disappointed. Sacrifice was nothing new to them, and giving up their lives would be so easy in order to restore things to their proper form. However, as they all knew, the easy way was not always the best way. Leaving the world undefended, yet again, was to be done only as a last ditch effort.