Posted: 25/08/2007

Pre-StrikerS story, slightly spoiler-ish. Main characters at age...well, between age sixteen to nineteen. Your choice. A dark AU one-shot. Song below can be found in LJ for the moment (of posting date).

Small translation from japanese to english -
Sou: I see.


Ode To Darkness

"Beach of Nothingness,"
- Yasunori Mitsuda, Xenosaga OST.

Laugh, little ones. Laugh!
Sing a song for the fallen angels,
For the Grim Reapers are here...


No mercy.

He shrank back, knees shaking, and his back hit the wall.

A black gloved hand touched his forehead.

Burgundy eyes, a deep shade of wine so dark they seemed black, rested on him.

"No," he whispered, begged. Fear gripped him tightly, coldly. His breathing was haggard, and he couldn't move; not when those eyes were on him. Dark and emotionless; they scared him as much as they awed him, that cold, beautiful gleam of red...

The hand on his head was gentle and cool to the touch, lightly brushing over fringes of grey hair.

Long, silky golden hair - made a shade lighter by the moonlight - ruffled with the wind. The window by the wall creaked, made rusty by age.

"...Thunder." A bare whisper.

A flash of yellow.

Electricity shot through his veins before he even realized, sharp, cackling, burning. It didn't hurt at first, then a split second later he felt ants crawl all over him, inside him; before they grew sharper, harder, jabbing like hot, scalding needles, and it hurt. He couldn't think, couldn't move, couldn't suppress the cry - the howl - of pain; then it was over as soon as it begun. A second of relief, before darkness claimed his vision.

Then he just stopped breathing, body slumping to the ground.

There was a faint scent of burnt skin filling the air.

The hand left from his head, and the slender figure stepped back.

She spied a shadow moving from the corner of her eyes, but made no movement aside from a slight glance.


And she spoke.



Slate blue eyes moved from her to the fallen figure, and a soft sigh escaped.

"...Your method is still as painful as ever." A quiet, almost unreadable tone. A hint of teasing. But it wasn't mocking.

"I could care less."



Burgundy pierced equally cold blue.

Once upon a time, the reply would have been an outburst of disbelief; and betrayal would so clearly show itself, and vibrate so strongly in the air.

But that was then.

This was now.


She wasn't surprised by the reply.


Her gaze wondered downwards, to that hand caked with drying blood; tip of fingers dripping dark liquid.

"And you are still as reckless." It wasn't an accusation.

"...Ah." A pause. There was no denial. "I didn't notice."

She stepped closer, and took the bleeding hand gently.

The blood soaked into her black glove as she lifted the hand to her lips.

Coppery, metallic saltiness.

She drank.

Tongue grazed lightly against the open wound.

The other did not move. Did not flinch.

Dark, cold blue eyes were fixed on her.

Soft, yellow light flickered from her own hand, before it brightened.

She leaned back, slightly - the faint tang of copper still on her tongue, blood dribbling to the side of her lips - and watched the jagged cut close into a faint scar under the warm glow.

The dried, caked blood was disappearing; washed away by threads of magic.

When she was, at last, satisfied, the one source of light faded.

Moonlight soaked into their skins, and she released that hand.

The brunette leaned closer then, that healed hand reaching up to caress her cheek.

She did not react when the other tilted her head slightly, and licked the side of her lips; cleaning away stains of crimson blood.

A hand was wrapped around the brunette's waist.

They stopped breathing.

Their noses were touching, their eyes were closed.

Then they parted.

Their breathing was heavy.

Smoldering blue, husky red.

The brunette was the first to look away, glancing up.

"It's time."

She did not respond.

The other looked back at her again, this time a slight smile on her lips.

"I will try to be more careful next time."

How much more is 'more'?

"Just more." The smile grew a fraction.

She almost raised an eyebrow, but she wasn't surprised at the mind reading.

They were far more in-tune with each other than in the past.

And this was a game of cat and mouse that they had played many times.

She abided by it, however, slipping into her role.

"Is that so?"

"Mm." An acknowledgement.

But not a promise.



Blue eyes turned to the burnt corpse.

"You're going to leave it like this?" It, not he. It.

She gave it a moment's thought.

"I suppose."

A pause.

"What happened to yours?" Your prey, she almost said.

A smile quirked on those lips, but there was no response.

The silence spoke volumes.

"...And she says my method is painful," the blonde said after a moment, a wry hint of humor in her voice.

"Maa." A dismissive shrug. "They deserved it."

She did not disagree.


"We should leave."


The brunette raised her staff. Red orb gleamed in the moonlight.

A pink, glowing circle formed underneath her.

"Starlight Breaker."

"Begin count down."

"All right. Count nine, eight, seven..."

Increasingly rapid footsteps.

Moving shadows.

A black gloved hand lifted towards the shadows. A yellow magic circle blinked into existence.

Lightning cackled.

"...Six, five, four..."

Bright yellow light, mingled with pink, soaked their skins.

A round, golden ball blinked.

"Photon Lancer."

The shadows stopped.

"...Three, two, one..."




Two simultaneous explosions, one at the far end of the dark alley, the other in the sky, shook the ground.

The cries of surprise and pain reached her ears, but her mind was already on the next task.

"Dimensional Transfer." The monotone male voice of her device resounded.

Moments before they disappeared, burgundy eyes spied the symbol of TSAB on a shadow's burnt clothes.

Her eyebrows creased.


Time-Space Administration Bureau.

The very organization that turned their lives upside down.

They should have noticed it earlier.

When had the seed of evil been planted?




So many times, she had questioned herself.

By the time Chrono, Amy and Lindy had been branded traitors and executed on the spot, Arf killed when she tried to protect them, it was already too late. The seed was in too deep, and she was scarred far too much to care.

Her naivety was gone.

She became more powerful, with no familiar as a burden to her magic supply.

But there was still one thing that held her back, and it was the brunette.

That, however, was only until the other's family had been used as a tool against her. Them.

Innocence was ripped away.

Then when the news of four deaths reached their ears...

Warmth disappeared.

They grew hard, when the greedy fools tried to manipulate the remaining fragment from the Book of Darkness; and failing that, corrupted the programs and destroyed the master.

And with the last of their ties severed, they became merciless.

She felt like laughing.

Blue eyes regarded her again, an eyebrow quirked.

She hadn't even smiled, but the other had noticed.

"Just thinking about the past," she said.


They were in an alley again, but there were bright lights at the end this time, and noises that only a multitude of humans could make. Bardiche was pocketed in her jeans, Raising Heart hung around the other's neck.

Before she might have wanted to cry. Despair. Lash out in rage.

Now, she only wanted to laugh.

The other seemed to share her sentiments when another smile grew on those lips.

She offered a hand.

"Shall we?"

The brunette took it.


And they stepped into the light, hand in hand.

Their dark, tainted shadows remained in the alley.



Yep, I killed a bunch of characters. :D Some of which are my favourite too, but, well. I think these two make really cool characters when (if) they fall to the dark side. And I mean really, really cool, badass chars. So.

Let me emphasis, however. This is a one-shot, not a multi-chapter fic.Not that I'm not curious about what could happen if above events really happen, but it's near impossible to create a dark story like this without going to great lengths for a good, not cheesy nor cliche, logical plot. Cliche isn't too bad, but I still try to avoid it. I like dramatic stuff too, but not if it goes over to the cheesy line. So I have this thing about perfectionism. Sue me.

And I probably should have mentioned this before, but notices on fics status can always be found in the bio - and sometimes my LJ - though not daily, but it will be updated on a frequent basis.

All in all, hope this was enjoyable, and feedbacks (in spades, preferrably, for inspirational purposes) are always appreciated.