FROM THE CREATOR OF "EARTH*LING",
		  "THE PARADISE ARMY"
					   AND "1101"



	Dawn came to Crystal Tokyo, and Yurei watched it 
bloody a dark and starry sky as he soaked his body in a 
hot bath. The beginnings of what would be a blue morning 
poured through his picture windows. It crept along the 
wooden ceiling and down wooden beams. 
	Yurei's eyes opened as he felt the warmth of the 
dawn against his skin. The sunrise was as completed as 
it could be. Soon the last tendrils of dark would be 
driven away, and a blue, cloudless morning would greet 
the people of the last city left upon the earth. His 
bath was finished, as were his meditations. With the 
dawn having come, the palace would now be expecting him. 
There were many things to discuss.
	Yurei rose from the warm water, and it flowed off 
the scars adorning his body. He wore them upon his back, 
some from swords, some from claws. He wore them upon his 
arms and legs. His chest had not fared the tests of time 
any better. The only marking upon his body that was not 
a scar was the black tattoo upon the back of his left 
shoulder. It bore a full moon and six outstretched wings 
reaching out from it, two stretching up, two stretching 
out, and two folding in to wrap the moon safely in their 
embrace: the mark of an Archangel.



   OUT OF THE ASHES OF THE END, COMES A NEW BEGINNING.


	Yurei clasped the glass of Scotch in his palm and 
took a cautionary swallow.
	"How is it?" Shingo asked.
	"Passable."
	Shingo grinned and spread his arms out across the 
back of his chair. "You're just jaded since you get to 
drink Scotch that's almost a century old."
	"This coming from the man who will only drink Sake 
if it's Tsukasa Botan brand?" Yurei retorted.
	"What can I say? Archangels have exclusive tastes." 
Shingo took another drink of his coffee. "Comes with the 
territory. Then again, I'd be inclined to say that we 
deserve some of them, considering our line of work. Two 
hundred years of facing off against innumerable youma, 
and we've got the scars to prove it."
	Shingo raised his cup. "To our lost comrades, the 
fallen Archangels and silent guardians of Crystal Tokyo. 
May they find the peace in death that our destinies 
could not afford us in life."
	Yurei raised his glass and tapped its end against 
Shingo's cup. "To the fallen."



    OUT OF THE ARMS OF DEATH, COMES A CITY OF PARADISE.


	The crimson glow bathed the faces of Yurei and 
Yuichiro as they stood across the street from the club's 
entrance. A line-up had already formed, a snake of 
people worming its way along the front of the warehouse 
and disappearing around the corner. They were all 
patient, and eager. At the doors, three large bouncers 
ensured order and barricaded the way inside.
	The road shivered to the bass beat of a melody 
masked by the walls of the club. Yurei could feel it 
through his boots. His ears could catch fragments of a 
song and technotronic chords, but they seemed nothing 
more than a dully cacophony.
	"It's loud," he said to Yuichiro.
	Yuichiro grinned. "It's supposed to be. It's what a 
rave is all about: you lose yourself from the world. All 
your worries, all your fears, all your inhibitions."
	"It's nothing more than a feeding frenzy of 
euphoria and forced forgetfulness."
	"Spoken like someone who has never gone to a rave."



	OUT OF CHAOS, HOPE EMERGES IN THE FORM 
		   OF THE SAILOR SENSHI.


	"Why do you think only girls can become Sailor 
Senshi?" asked the Enforcer. His tone was softer, 
without the jealous and possibly justified frustration 
his words had possessed earlier.
	Yurei shook his head. "I do not know."
	"There has never been a male Candidate to enter the 
Academy," the Enforcer said. "Not one. Not ever. Every 
year five or six more girls are accepted, and then they 
train endlessly." He sighed and shook his head. "Not 
that it really seems to matter all that much. They 
haven't even chosen Senshi to fill in the openings that 
we already have."
	"They are more than openings," Yurei said. "They 
are callings." The corners of Yurei's mouth were pulled 
into a smile that was the keeper of a secret no one else 
seemed to know. "We might call it destiny."
	The Enforcer looked at him, a little incredulous. 
"What? Are you saying they don't choose which one 
becomes the next Sailor Senshi?"
	Yurei shook his head. "I don't believe they have a 
final say in the matter, no. All they can do is find the 
young women who show potential, who have the gift and 
exhibit the signs and powers of a Candidate, and hope."



		  ARE YOU AFRAID OF THE FUTURE?

			    YOU SHOULD BE.


	Yurei walked down the hall, coming to the stairs. 
The stair second from the top creaked when his weight 
settled upon it. There were four doors lining the 
upstairs hall: three closed, one left open. Yurei moved 
towards the open one. He stopped at the doorway and 
instinctively winced when he saw the Candidate.
	She looked as if she was sitting on the floor, her 
back braced against the side of her bed. She was staring 
up at the ceiling, her eyes wide in surprise or fear, 
her mouth agape. Something black and blasphemous 
trickled out from both. It bubbled and pooled on the 
floor around her, soaked into her white pyjamas and 
stained the Keroppe doll sitting in her lap. Her hands 
lay at her sides. Each wrist had been slashed, and the 
black blasphemy was still dripping onto the floor.
	Yurei didn't look back as Shingo drew up behind him 
and looked inside the room. The air became charged with 
Shingo's cold rage.
	Shingo knelt down as close to the girl as he dared 
to get. "Serenity have mercy. I don't care how upset she 
was when we last saw her. A suicide sure as hell can't 
explain what that black stuff is." 
	"We're being sent a message," Yurei stated. "She 
should have killed herself while she had the chance."



			   SUSPICION...


	"Even in a utopia, death remains," Hotaru replied. 
She remained unimpressed. "The Ginzuisho may have 
extended all our lives, but we all still bleed. We all 
still die. Sooner or later, it comes for us all."
	"This time it's different," Yurei said.
	Hotaru regarded his words with newfound interest. 
The corner of her mouth twitched. "A youma attack?"
	Yurei nodded his head. "It appears so, yes. A 
Candidate was killed."
	The twitch on the corner of Hotaru's mouth became a 
damning smirk. "My my," she said, her voice chiding and 
matronly. "A murder in paradise. And what did our 
shadowy little youma take as a memento from her?"
	Yurei's perfect memory flashed the tangle of dark 
hair fallen over the girl's pale, gaunt face. It had 
once been a beautiful face. "It took her blood."
	"Blood? Is that all?" Hotaru gave an indignant huff 
and lay down on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. "You 
get my hopes up of a good Armageddon, and all you have 
to offer me is a petty vampire?"
	She made a tsk-tsk noise, and wagged her index 
finger at him. "For shame, Yu-chan. You'll have to do 
better than that."



			   BETRAYAL...


	"Look, nothing has changed," Shingo said. "We still 
have a killer we know nothing about, save that it moves 
fast and can escape any of our detection. It can breach 
our defences. It selects victims for reasons we don't 
yet fully know, and kills with a weapon we can't even 
pinpoint."
	They all could hear Sailor Jupiter mutter something 
vicious under her breath. "What's next?" she asked.
	"Whatever it decides to do, it'll be more 
personal," Shingo said. "This thing is taunting us as it 
draws ever closer to whatever it ultimately wants."  
	"There's something else too," Yurei said. "There is 
something too ritual about all of this. The first 
Candidate was left in a place she would be easily found. 
The second was the same way. And the last girl's body 
could not have been left in any a more obvious spot. It 
wants these girls to be found. And I think this Ripper 
wants us to be the ones to find them first." 
	"Why us?" Yuichiro said. "Why does it want us to 
find them? Regular people finding the bodies would 
generate a better hysteria."
	"That is what escapes me," Yurei said. 
	Sailor Jupiter scowled, and in a quiet voice asked, 
"Is it being thrown in our faces that we can't even 
protect the next generation of protectors?"
	No one could give her an answer.



			    EVIL...


	"I already know this," Yurei said. "They're being 
attacked because they're Candidates."
	Hotaru rolled her eyes at him. "No, they're being 
attacked because they're bad Candidates. Someone doesn't 
think them deserving to wear those happy little tiaras. 
They're being punished, and it's quite the spanking 
they're getting. But what you should be asking yourself 
is not simply why, but why in this fashion?"
	Hotaru performed another pirouette and flopped down 
on her bed. In the dimming light Yurei could still see 
the viciousness of her smile.
	"It's getting closer to them," she said in but a 
malevolent whisper. "From a Candidate outside the 
Academy, to a Candidate inside her family's home, and 
now inside the Academy itself. Our dear Ripper is 
demonstrating how no one is safe from judgement, how no 
one is safe from that holy wrath. I expect you'll find 
the next girl dead in her dorm room, killed by someone 
she would not have expected."



	  HIS LORDSHIP CHAOS INVITES YOU TO ENTER

		    "THE PARANOIA GROOVE"


	"You may not realise this," Sailor Mars said, "but 
Crystal Tokyo is a city fuelled by trust--trust in its 
Queen, and in the Sailor Senshi. For them to know that 
even we can be undermined or corrupted, it would cause 
that trust to crumble. The Sailor Senshi are their 
champions and their soldiers."
	"The Sailor Senshi are like everyone else," Yurei 
said. "They share the same flesh and blood, the same 
humanity and weakness."
	Sailor Mars glared at him with unabashed rage. "And 
what about you, Yurei? What darkness hides behind your 
eyes?"
	"I know what you would say," Yurei said. "Because 
of my past, I become the most likely suspect." 
	She nodded in agreement; the idea had already 
tempted her. "I could arrest you now."
	The cold reality of her words slowed Yurei's 
heartbeat. The ice returned to his eyes. "And when 
another Candidate dies, what would you do then?" he 
asked. "Still keep me locked away?" 
	Something he said caused an abrupt change in Sailor 
Mars. The vulnerability was washed away, and her full, 
imposing stance returned. Her eyes were still bloodshot, 
but Yurei could not deny the authority she projected. 
	"I do not want any mention of this sort made," she 
stated. Her voice and her terms were non-negotiable. 
"Not to the Senshi, not to the Candidates, not even to 
the other Archangels. I will not tolerate you spreading 
such lies and fear."
	"Fear will spread, with or without my help," Yurei 
told her. "It already has."



			TRUST YOUR INSTINCT.
			  TRUST YOUR EYES.
			TRUST NOTHING ELSE.


	Yurei kept his hands resting comfortably in his 
coat pockets. His eyes watched the walls, and not the 
Candidate sitting next to him. "Being chosen as a 
Candidate is considered one of the greatest possible 
honours."
	"No. Being chosen as a Sailor Senshi is," Sakura 
countered. There was a growing hostility in her voice. 
"Becoming a Candidate is only a step bringing you closer 
to that honour. But it's only a hope. I was accepted 
into the Academy when I was twelve; I have been here for 
six years, and in that time I have not seen anyone 
selected to become a new Sailor Senshi."
	She let out a shout of anger and kicked the heel of 
her foot against the stairs. "There are three openings, 
and a new invasion! In our time of need, why has no one 
been chosen?"
	"I think," Yurei said evenly, "that you should not 
believe everything you are taught."
	The look he was given by Sakura bordered on 
incredulous. He had expected it. 
	"You may be a Candidate," he told her, "but you 
have no true concept of what it means to be a soldier in 
this war. You stare at me with eyes that think they can 
handle it, with eyes that show no fear. Believe me, 
Sakura-san, if you knew what your calling was, you would 
be afraid."







		THE FUTURE GETS INTO THE GROOVE

			  OCTOBER, 2004.