It was the slyest of looks that told her everything.
Neptune didn’t have to ask her partner what she was thinking. Since the first day they had faced one another as Neptune and Uranus, known the spine-tingling joy and righteousness of their powers thrilling through their bodies, they could read one another like books. What looked to the unobservant as a mere smirk from her sandy-blonde lover was a wealth of meaning to her; the lightest touch, the skating of gloved fingers across the back of her hand, told her more than a verbal conversation.
She knew when they had left on their foolhardy quest to confront Galaxia that it was quite possible that they could fail. The walk from the shrine to Ginga TV had been in absolute silence, broken only when they were stopped by Setsuna and Hotaru. What would they have discussed? Their undying love and devotion for one another that was second only to their loyalty to their princess? For them, it was like describing how water is always wet. To everyone else, it was like describing how water and oil could neither separate nor sink, but continually mix.
Seeing the four guardian soldiers rather brutally and suddenly die, their seeds taken by Galaxia, had been startling. The woman was a maniac and obviously insane. None of the enemies they had faced so far had been so cleverly brutal; even Nehellenia had chosen to simply capture instead of kill, despite the maximum emotional impact she could have extracted from Usagi in revenge. She didn’t even seem to care about the consequences of pissing off someone who held almost untold power in her hands.
Ruthless and efficient; yes, Galaxia was far different from their previous enemies. Where power had eventually won – even if in the form of Usagi’s almost damnable compassion – Galaxia was a different sort of fly. This fly would have to be caught by honey.
In a way, she was just like Neptune and Uranus; when had they ever let a little thing like emotion get in the way of their mission?
When had the threat of death ever stopped them from carrying through?
Galaxia had brushed off the strike of the space sword without even blinking. She slapped them around like wayward children, and would have killed them right then and there had Saturn and Pluto not intervened. But they, too, could do nothing. None of them had even scratched the damn luster of her golden throne.
And then she had insulted them further by implying that she had tricked Saturn into awakening by freeing Nehellenia. It was ridiculously absurd; even as they all expressed their shock, Neptune thought back to the dead moon queen and her narcissism, replaying the scenario she had witnessed in the throne room from her crystal cage. What had Nehellenia done, necessarily, besides attack in anger like a petulant child denied her sweets? Mamoru’s capture had been sheer dumb luck. The woman had obviously planned to hold the city hostage and lure Usagi, but when she had captured them all, she had done nothing more than kick her heels. Usagi’s compassion did her in simply because she was a needy grown brat who wanted attention.
She had also attacked the city before Galaxia woke her up; Saturn had not bothered to stir once during those months, nor had Michiru and Haruka felt the urge to join them in their fight. The mirror had been silent, except for flashes of shadow. Nothing that the others had not finally dealt with.
Galaxia was obviously lying through her teeth, but why? Did she not want to admit that she was such a devastating force, triggering the latent powers of a child to bring her down? Or did she simply find it amusing to play with them? Either way, she needed Saturn’s star seed, which had been a dormant spark within Hotaru until she had begun to grow. Perhaps it suited her to manipulate events to her liking.
As she crowed over them, proclaiming her status as queen of the galaxy, Neptune had stared at what could be called a ceiling of the chamber, watching the spiral swirl of a nebula far above the reach of her fingers. Did Galaxia truly control so much space? It was immense; enormous; all of their previous enemies had dealt in small fish such as planets, not entire star systems. The tiniest flare of despair had burned her breast at the realization that their powers, strong as they were, might not be enough this one last time. They would fail, and their princess would die.
It burned hot, until Galaxia offered them another way.
The smile had been sharp and confident as Uranus looked her way, after considering Galaxia’s offer. At first, Neptune hadn’t been able to grasp the possibility of her lover betraying her, or their allies. But then Uranus turned to her, smiling that devil-may-care smirk, saying, “Working under Galaxia and becoming wild doesn’t seem too bad. If I can be with you, I won’t hesitate to sell my soul to the devil.”
Allowing Galaxia to take their star seeds and slapping those manacles on them?
Those manacles…
Of course.
Neptune’s shocked stare had turned into a smile. That look told her everything. It was far easier to trap flies with honey, after all. “You’re right.” Surrender their souls, allow Galaxia to imprison them with bracelets imbued with her powers, bracelets that could rip the very power of a sailor soldier from their bodies…..sometimes, her lover was a certified genius. None of the others would have considered it, but they were also tender hearted fools – even Saturn and Pluto.
When the bracelets closed around their wrists, the rush of power had been more intense than the first time they had transformed into sailor soldiers. Neptune also likened it to the first time she had finally won a song from the strings of her violin after so much hard work, to the first time Haruka’s tongue had brought a shrill cry of pleasure and heady sensation from her body. It was the taste of extreme power, more possibly than even Eternal Sailor Moon wielded.
She wasn’t sure if that first thought of greed had been her own, or that of the bracelet’s influence. If asked directly, she would have blamed them. But there was no one around anymore to ask her, and they wouldn’t have bothered if they were still alive to know the tale. She had made sure of it.
Atop the roof, facing the princess and her brave and foolhardy defenders, Neptune had stood proudly next to Uranus. Galaxia wanted them to take their star seeds, and the power coursing through their bodies, keeping them alive, sang a siren’s song of obedience. Had her previous lackeys felt the same way? Constantly drugged on a never-ending supply of energy and influence, unsure finally as to what thoughts were their own and which ones were Galaxia’s insinuations? If so, Neptune pitied them. It was a sad thing to have so much power in your hands and be unable to control yourself. To be a victim at someone else’s mercy.
She had been a victim to someone else’s heart as well. It was time she stopped.
They had turned as one, raising their wrists to strike. Galaxia’s eyes went wide with shock at their defection, their obvious strength and devotion, their foolhardy scheme to take her down by playing right into her hands; until the beams of light lanced from only one set of hands to strike her dead on.
Uranus looked from the golden queen to her partner, still standing there. “Neptune?”
The blow knocked her off her feet and through the air. Neptune watched her fly away with an expression that couldn’t be accurately summed up as pity; more, perhaps, disinterest. Galaxia’s laughter rang through the air as Uranus landed, her star seed bright above her heart as her body faded away to nothing. Eternal Sailor Moon was screaming her name; the three Starlights were struck dumb.
But what was she supposed to have done? In the last few seconds before raising her wrists, she had realized that Galaxia wasn’t an idiot. The bracelets wouldn’t work against their owner. Perhaps she had no star seed, though how she could be a soldier without a seed was a patent absurdity; perhaps she simply charmed them not to work at all when turned on her. Whatever the case might have been, she had given them what amounted to big golden baubles with lots of power that were utterly useless in their plans.
Once before, they had promised not to save one another at the expense of the mission.
Neptune considered it merely keeping her promise.
She struck down the Starlights before they could even think of turning on her, ripping the source of their power from their chests like a greedy Aztec priest, gathering them in her hands. They glowed with their own unique lights, colours she couldn’t have properly described if she tried, and she relinquished them to her new queen before setting her eyes on the old.
It was an interesting contrast; she had given up a silver princess for a golden queen. And all the silly girl could ask her was, “Why? Neptune, why?”
“Because I chose this path. Because we were friends, I’ll let you close your eyes. Think of Mamoru-san; you’ll be with him shortly.” She knew Galaxia’s smile was whip-sharp and mocking behind her back as she lifted her wrists. In Eternal Sailor Moon’s arms, the little brat she called Chibi-Chibi was struggling to get free. She kicked free just as Neptune’s energy impacted and disappeared like a beam of sunlight covered by the clouds.
The Ginzuishou produced its own light, but it was cold.
Once they were done with the Earth, they moved on.
The universe was a large and immense place, and Neptune met creatures she never had the chance to properly name nor identify. Every planet with life forms or some kind of previous sentience had a sailor soldier guarding it; in almost all cases, they died in battle, fighting to protect their home. Neptune took a perverse thrill in being stronger than them, of not being the equal half of a whole, of being her own strong soldier who could do anything. She had no lover to hold her hand, no friends to cripple her blows. Only a queen. A cruel, demanding, maniacal queen who thought her utterly loyal thanks to her treachery.
It was years before another soldier joined them, a meek, whining girl from a planet Neptune couldn’t have properly pronounced without a second tongue, with a similar name; she took to calling her Koitachi, the weasel child. She had two tongues and lied and sniveled with both of them equally as well; four eyes that never blinked and were the colour of topaz; skin that was mottled and warty beneath her bodice; and an uninteresting mind. If she even bothered to talk, Neptune ignored her. Often she cursed the fact she couldn’t even plead ignorance of her language, since their transformation gave them the knowledge of any language they came in contact with.
After a while, the throne room was so full of star seeds Galaxia was sitting on them. She took to giving them orders while pacing in front of her collection, though the crown jewel was always close at hand; the Ginzuishou had been strung on a chain around her neck, though Neptune wasn’t sure if was to taunt her, or merely to remind herself of the battle she had won.
Neptune never gave it much thought.
She didn’t honestly think of very much anymore, outside of her battles. The sound of the violin beneath her cheek, the soft sibilance of Haruka’s voice in her ear; she had forgotten them. She forgot the sound of the ocean. She forgot even her name, having been called ‘Sailor Neptune,’ and ‘Oy! You!’ for so long. If she was given writing tools, all she did was stare at them. The knowledge of her school years was all but gone, the brilliant mind wasted through disuse.
It was a strange thing to have forgotten the reason she had entered Galaxia’s service to begin with, though she knew in the back of her mind that she hadn’t done so out of loyalty to the bitch. No, she intended to destroy her. How or when or why, she didn’t know, but that was her plan. It was a good plan. Never mind that she no longer remembered that sly smile, and those meaningful words; like oil and water, they had finally separated.
She finally found the little red-haired brat near what Galaxia called the Galaxy Cauldron; the place where stars are born. But she no longer wore her small body, instead opting for an older, more mature form, with the same ridiculous hairstyle. In her hands was a broadsword; on her face was indecision. “Don’t do this,” she pleaded.
“I have to,” Neptune answered simply, as she did in all things, as she raised her wrists.
“But why? Why have you done all of this? For the love of that girl, you could have stopped this evil!”
“That girl….” She could barely see her in her memory anymore. Just a name. Not even a voice or a face. The owner of the crystal around Galaxia’s neck, that thrummed with power only slightly less intense than the power that Galaxia herself literally shone with.
The same power that the girl in front of her had. Galaxia had derided her as ‘the light of hope,’ a silly attempt at prophecy to defeat her. But there was no hiding the unmistakable signature to someone who had been kept alive by that very same power for years untold. The same power that thought her to be harmless to its owner, when in reality she was merely baiting her with sweetness.
With a gesture, she destroyed the girl who had no real name. Ripped out her star seed, and held it in her hand. It was golden in colour, and entirely unsurprising. She took it back to Galaxia, who held out her own hand eagerly. “The light of hope,” she whispered with glee, waiting to receive it.
Did she even know the truth? Neptune couldn’t even puzzle it out herself. If the woman had no star seed, she was being powered by something else. Although, there was a simple and expedient way to find out the truth.
She crushed it within her hands.
It crumbled easier than she expected. Galaxia’s face faltered. As if she were underwater, her transformation left her, leaving her a young girl in a pretty dress with masses of long hair that flowed from gold to copper to red down her back. Something dark snapped within her eyes, fighting to take back control. “How….how dare you….I spared your…..life….!”
Neptune plucked her own star seed from the millions of glittering crystals. As the girl who had been Galaxia struggled to stand, a dark cloud animating her limbs and trying to transform her into something new, Neptune reached forward and snapped her neck. The bracelets fell off her wrists and her star seed disappeared back into her body as she replied, too late to be heard, “You should have expected this.”
As she sat down in her new throne, she relished the feeling of freedom. Would her distant memories have applauded her act of rebellion at the very end? She doubted it. They had been crippled in the end by their subservience.
But she was no longer bound by their terms, or that of her golden queen. Not half of anyone, but whole. She had caught the fly with honey, and swatted her without a hint of remorse, breaking every one of her chains.
Rubbing her wrists where the bonds had chafed for so very long, she admired the golden gleam of her new throne. It was a tacky colour, she decided, but not entirely preferable over silver. Neither one suited her well at all.
She got up; strung the Ginzuishou ‘round her own neck; and left to explore the birthplace of the stars. As a distant memory once told her, she always had time.
Fin.
