Queen Beryl was angry. She was more agitated than she had been when she chose to freeze her first commander in ice rather than endure one more of his ridiculous failures. More furious than she had been when his successor ignored her summons and pursued his own endeavors, ultimately winding up dead. And far more irate than she had been when _his_ successor started to reveal his impetuous nature. No, she could not think of a day when she had felt more desire to kill someone. Today she was more enraged at Zoisite than she had been at Queen Serenity during the attack on the Silver Millenium. She had allowed Zoisite to generally do as he pleased as long as he got the job done, which he did more often than not, unlike his predecessors. He had even come to please her with his ability to deliver. But after the time when he challenged her direct orders to retreat from battle, she had rethought her way of treating him and realized that she would have to put a tighter leash on him, lest he become dangerous.

Beryl was no idiot, or so she thought. She could tell that Zoisite would thoroughly enjoy the chance to do away with Tuxedo Kamen. Little did he know that Kamen was in fact the reincarnated Prince Endymion, whom Beryl had discovered while planning her attack on Earth. She had long been determined to lure Endymion to her kingdom, to her side by the throne, to her bedchambers... Now that she had found him again, she aimed to make certain that nothing would get in her way of accomplishing all three goals. Thus, when Zoisite had come to her with five of the seven nijizuishou and promised her that he could take the remaining two from Kamen, she had anticipated his intentions and instructed him that he could act as he saw fit as long as he stuck to her one rule: Tuxedo Kamen must be brought to the Dark Kingdom _alive_.

She should never have expected him to follow her commands. Not someone like Zoisite. She noticed the many times he had tried in vain to suppress his obviously inflated ego when in conferences with her. But Zoisite's desire for self-advancement had a propulsion beyond his own sake alone. Beryl's top commander Kunzite was apparently completely unaware that she had figured out how to pass her spies through the wards protecting his bedchambers. She was quite familiar with exactly what kind of relationship existed between him and his headstrong pupil. Even before she had resumed a careful watch over Kunzite, she had noticed the glances that passed from mentor to student. Yet she had not fully considered how much of a threat Zoisite's devotion to Kunzite might be to her power.

But today would be the end of it all. She would accept no more insubordination from Zoisite, nor would she let Kunzite think that she tolerated such practices as his severely disappointing performance that day. And after she had resolved their problems, she would return to Prince Endymion and complete his brainwashing. With Zoisite gone and Kunzite left to pursue the ginzuishou and thus correct his mistake of allowing the Sailor Senshi to take it, she would be alone with her prince...

Beryl rose from the throne. She had not yet called the youma to assemble. If she chose to let the throne room remain empty, it would ruin her intention of terrifying the masses into stricter obedience by doing away with Zoisite before their eyes. But her patience was gone, and she chose to act now, scare later. In fact, as she took a few steps down, it occured to her that her new plan of having one of her spies broadcast Zoisite's death after the fact would give her the opportunity to witness the reaction of the rabble. The thought lightened her mood just a fraction enough to mask the true height of her anger from the pair that stood before her.

Although Zoisite was not exactly standing. With an expression of weary sadness settled on his face, he was leaning very slightly against the man whom Beryl knew to be his lover. This act alone was nearly enough to inspire Beryl to blast him right away without a word. How dare he continue to disrespect her, she thought, refusing to even stand at attention in her presence! Still, she maintained her control.

Addressing them both, she began harshly, "The Moon Princess has awakened, and we have lost the ginzuishou to the enemy side. You have performed very disgracefully."

"Forgive me," Kunzite replied, further irritating Beryl by his exclusion of Zoisite's fault in the matter. "However, the Princess is hardly prepared to utilize the ginzuishou to the full extent of its power and so it is not a threat to the Dark Kingdom. I beg you for your patience."

Eager to carry out Zoisite's punishment, Beryl spat at him, "Very well. Do whatever it takes." She then fixed her deadly glare on his injured student. "Now, Zoisite. Are you prepared?"

Zoisite's emerald green eyes flew up as though he had just detected that Beryl was in the room. "Please, give me one more chance," he implored in a pained voice.

"You have attempted to kill Tuxedo Kamen against my orders," she responded with an unforgiving tone, then added with bitterness, "Did you think I would not notice?" She raised her hand, fingers arched like claws, and was quite pleased at the sudden terror that glinted in Zoisite's eyes and paled his complexion. Indeed, the sensation of pleasure began to rush through her entire body while she formed the intense ball of energy in her hand, ready to discharge a fatal blast. As it overcame her completely, she barely heard a word of Kunzite's contentions that he was to blame, that he was responsible for training Zoisite improperly. She released the energy.

For one second, there was nothing but blinding light.

Then darkness.

And then the sound of Zoisite's scream.

The room returned to focus, but Beryl was at first certain her eyes were being deceived. She had expected to see Zoisite's body crumpled to the ground. Instead she was met by the sight of Kunzite, half-doubled over, clutching his chest. Right behind him, Zoisite screamed again, an agonized, shrill cry. Then Kunzite's knees buckled, and he fell back against Zoisite, who toppled to the ground under his weight, but recovered himself, kneeling and wrapping his arms around his mentor's body, clutching Kunzite's back tightly against his chest. Tears overflowed his eyes, and in a voice thick with anguish, he sobbed, "Kunzaito-sama, no!!"

Beryl was far too stunned to react, other than to stumble backwards to her throne and gape with astonishment.

Kunzite looked painfully up at Zoisite, who cried, "Why, Kunzaito-sama, why?!"

"Because I could do nothing else," was all he managed to answer.

Zoisite swept his arms repeatedly across Kunzite's breast and nuzzled up against his neck, wailing into his shoulder. "That was meant for me! For me!! Oh, no, no, please don't die! Please!! Don't die, Kunzaito-sama...!"

Kunzite struggled to lift his hands up and clasp them over Zoisite's. "How could I live, Zoisite?" he asked with great strain. "How could I live, and let you die?"

Zoisite choked out, "But Queen Beryl..."

"Hush! I know," Kunzite whispered, "but I saw that my duty was to you first. To my beloved one."

"Don't go, koibito," Zoisite sobbed.

Beryl continued to do nothing. She was floored by the lovers' pointed disregard of her proximity to them. Her highest and most powerful commander was sprawled on the ground with a fatal injury, one that she had no time to remedy, and the man who was intended to receive her attack was now passionately kissing him as the life energy rapidly drained from his body.

Zoisite raised his lips from his lover's just enough to gasp out, "I loved you, Kunzaito-sama."

"Forgive me, Zoisite," Kunzite pleaded.

"You are not at fault, my dearest, dearest love," Zoisite assured him, and met his lips again, holding his upper body in a delicate embrace even as it began to fade slowly away.

Without so much as a hint of an idea on how to proceed, all that Beryl could perceive was how disgusting their lavish display of love was, and how ill it was making her feel. She decided to rush to Queen Metallia, not only to seek her advice, but also to avoid having to stomach any more of the intimate exchange. A shadow enveloped her, and she disappeared from the throne room.

Now kneeling some feet beyond Endymion's holding place, Beryl addressed Metallia respectfully, and tried to explain her situation, then concluded by declaring, "I was a fool for not predicting such a move on Kunzite's part. But what was done cannot be reversed, and now I am left only with Zoisite. And he was meant to die. However, if I kill him despite Kunzite's actions, then Endymion will be the sole top ranking commander."

"Are you asking me for advice? For assistance?" Metallia hissed. "This problem is one that you have created for yourself, and thus you must deal with it by yourself. I have no intention of wasting needed energy to empower some second-class youma to assist you in accomplishing the tasks I have given you, because if you hadn't been acting so idiotic all this time, the Earth would have been ours long ago!"

"Thank you, my Queen," Beryl growled. With her anger only increased once more, she transported back to the throne room.

Zoisite was standing so close to her she could nearly feel his quick breath. His eyes were so fixed on her that the thorough hatred in his stare seared into her pupils like beams of pure flame. "For Kunzaito-sama," he spoke sharply.

Then Beryl felt the thick shard of ice thrust through her torso, ripping out of her back. She caught the barest glimpse of the satisfaction that overtook the enmity twisting his beautiful features. It was to be her last sight, for as she fell to the ground at his feet, her eyes, still wide open from shock, beheld nothing but the black void of death.

Queen Metallia had given Beryl immeasurable power. She had practically breathed her own life into the weak sourceress in order to enable her to assume the lead of the Dark Kingdom forces. It had originally seemed to Metallia to be the sensible thing to do: create a pawn for herself rather than take Beryl's body and spend effort soiling its hands running all the little errands. And that was indeed how she viewed the tasks she had doled out to Beryl: Gather up energy. Get the ginzuishou. Kill the Sailor Senshi. Such simple assignments, thought Metallia, especially when one was granted an army with which to carry them out.

Apparently, the old adage rang true: If you want something done right, do it yourself. For Metallia knew instantly when her pawn made her final blunder in allowing herself to be killed. Beryl's death was felt by Metallia as though she had an earthly form and her arms were suddenly amputated. The combination of the discombobulation resulting from the loss and her fury at Beryl for being so careless---and disappointment with herself for not dethroning the imbecile long ago---caused such an interference that she temporarily ignored all other matters which had been occupying her concentration.

And so Chiba Mamoru found himself fully conscious on a stone slab in a huge cavern, with barely any recollection of exactly who he was or how he got there, expect for a bizarre sense of having felt as lost before. He stood shakily on his feet just long enough to remember the sensation of pain and collapse to his knees. It was then that he looked up and noticed the great throbbing manifestation of some alarmingly omnipotent force. The energy waves originating from it that pulsed through his body sent him one clear message---it was dangerous to remain. With what strength he could manage to muster, he struggled down the long stone pathway, tripping and crawling part of the way, until he came to a door, and forced his way through it. It shut behind him, and he was made the unfortunate witness to a scene of fantastic tragedy.

There stood a man with flowing light chestnut hair clad in a dark uniform, smiling grimly down at the body of a woman, his boots partially immersed in a pool of her miscolored blood. Failing to notice or pay any heed to Mamoru, he turned from her and strode to another form on the ground, which was as transparent as an apparition. "I have avenged you, Kunzaito-sama," he spoke softly, lowering himself to kneel by the other's side, "and now, my love... I shall join you." He reached his left hand out gently to the spirit's cheek, touching it lightly as though it might disappear completely at the brush of his fingertips. A forlorn shade had covered the guilt and anger and regret in his visage, but now all such sentiments slipped away, overcome by an expression of pure love.

Mamoru staggered back. In but an instant the man's right hand had flown to his heart, cupped in a circle, and given issue to a long, sharp blade of ice that exploded into his chest. The man gasped with pain, but thereafter made no sound, and dropped onto the cold stone, resting beside his beloved.

Quickly Mamoru rushed to him, but it was obvious that nothing could save the man. He thought of the woman, struggled to her, swept her massive hair from her torso, and found that she too was beyond help. He did not feel he would have the strength to assist either one even if something could be done to prevent them from dying. The woman was surely dead already, and the man had ceased to breathe.

"Queen Beryl-sama!!" Mamoru jumped at the voice that called from across the great chamber. Terror filled his every vein as he saw a great mass of monsters emerge from the darkness at the perimeter of the cavern and approach the center with speed. Although he barely recalled his own name, it did not take him long to realize what kind of part the mob appeared to believe he had played in the brief drama that had just been performed before him. Around him, three bodies were vanishing, and he had blood on his hands.

The youma came from all sides, calling out the names of these three whom he now understood to be their leaders. What horrible crime had he perpetrated in their eyes, and what tortures would they subject him to for committing so terrible an act---he could not think of such things and yet could think of nothing else. No plea he could ever make would penetrate their minds, for they had written him into the equation of the catastrophe as soon as they had seen him there, alive, bending over the carcasses of their masters.

They descended upon him in a great swelling mass, with breath hot as fire, all claws, teeth, and horns. He had no time for a last thought.

Some months later, a little fourteen-year-old schoolgirl was so absorbed in her lamentation over a lost love that she failed to protect the Earth from a vast dark army which spread from the north and swallowed the whole of the world up with its terrible shadow.