IC Date: 05/25/2026

“So…this place is cheery.” Sailor Bacchus scanned the crumbling ruins that stood before them. Glancing at his companion, he wondered how exactly the boy would fix all of this. He definitely didn’t have the muscle mass to lift, well, anything here.

“I don’t think ancient ruins are supposed to be cheery.” Somniorum interjected, slightly amused by the deep space senshi’s flippancy.

“Never been to Earth’s moon before. Not even when those Silver shits were in charge.” The senshi knew next to nothing about the kingdom that had left decrepit stone scattered across the barren landscape, just that they seemed to like keeping people from knowing about them. They were probably dull and self-righteous, thinking they were too good for the rest of the galaxy. Probably inbred too, there couldn’t be all that many people who weren’t related in a place like that. But in the end they were just as dead as everyone else, superiority complex or not. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they had something to do with everything going silent. They were supposed to be pretty powerful anyway.”

“I don’t know about that. I actually don’t know much about anything. When it comes to them. The Silver Millennium people. The Code probably knows, or I’d hope it does. It’s ancient, and it had to have been paying attention during all of that.” The page began to idly twist a lock of his long black hair as he thought. “I don’t know how much it’d be willing to tell me about that though. I just got here. Into the magic thing anyway.”

“That outfit is what the humans call ‘snappy?’ Is that what it is?” Bacchus frowned slightly as he tried to remember. “Snappiness” wasn’t exactly how he would describe clothing, but it was fun to say at least. “Can’t say the same about that thing though. The Code wasn’t doing you any favors there.” He gestured teasingly at the paper lantern the younger man carried. “Are you supposed to poke people in the eye with the handle?”

Ronan raised his eyebrows at his friend’s comment. He could hardly disagree on the matter of his “weapon”, he’d had many of the same thoughts after all. But “snappy?” That was hardly how he would describe the uniform that clung far too close to almost every inch of his skin and even dared to invade his hair with its pearly machinations. It might look nice to someone else, part of him even hoped that it looked nice to at least one or two someones else, but he would take something comfortable over something that might be more fashionable.

“I might poke certain parties in the eye with the handle if they drove me to it.” A flicker of a playful smile twitched the corners of his mouth upwards as he spoke.

“Oh, the clíatha has fangs!” Bacchus crowed, delighted at the reaction his ribbing had drawn forth.

“The what?”

“Clíatha, the only proper steed for a true Tuath. Beautiful animals.” His voice grew wistful, his gaze distant. “Kind of like your…your cats.” He pantomimed kitty paws as he felt around for the words. “But they were huge. Had wings. Couldn’t fly, but they had wings.” He shook his head. They were among the first to vanish.

“Vanish” was a fun euphemism. No point in filling the boy’s head with nightmares, he had enough going on.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be, I don’t think you had anything to do with all of that. Unless you’re quite a lot older than you look.” Considering the insane s**t the Galaxy Cauldron or whatever else had pulled he wouldn’t be entirely surprised if someone he knew was involved in any of that mess, but Ronan definitely didn’t have the stomach for it. He chuckled softly, “Who knows, you could be more devious than you look.”

“Pretty sure that’s an amphitheatre.” Somniorum gestured at an mass of white stone directly to the south of the Palatium. “I haven’t been in there yet.”

“Well that sounds like a good ******** reason to go in there now.” A grin crossed the deep space senshi’s face.

Without waiting for a response Bacchus trotted toward the marble clad arches that marked the entrance and with a sigh of affected exasperation, Somniorum followed.

Despite Bacchus’ cavalier attitude, and the fact that he’d first encountered the man while he was refusing to stop snacking on Snow White style knockout apples, he found the deep space senshi’s presence comforting. Maybe something about his stream of attempts to lighten the mood was effective, maybe it was the fact that he was a full foot taller than him and could probably throw any moon threats that showed up. Not that he’d gotten the impression that there was anything more dangerous than the potential for falling rubble, but he welcomed the presence of someone able to dig him out in that scenario. Reassured by that thought, his pace quickened to keep up with the other man’s long strides.

The amphitheatre somehow loomed larger that the page had imagined from a distance and he felt an uneasy tightening in his chest as they grew closer to the neglected marble. This wasn’t safe. It couldn’t be safe. It was too old and too untended and too large to be left for this long. He glanced over at Bacchus who ambled through the nearest entryway with no apparent fear of what could be inside. As the younger man’s boot made contact with the dusty stone within the rounded structure a sharp pain lanced through his head, robbing in a whirlwind of guilt and shame.

Disbelief as crimson spread across grey and green.

His chest constricted, a thousand threads within tangling as his abandoned him as violent spasms wracked his body.

“s**t. s**t!” Bacchus swore loudly as the page doubled over, collapsing to the stone.

“s**t!

Bacchus crouched beside the fallen page, putting a careful hand on his shoulder.

The careful approach was a dismal failure, one he was determined to rectify with a vigorous shaking of the younger man’s shoulders.

Somniorum’s innards churned, narrow frame heaving as Bacchus’ face swam into view. He could feel his face burning with the tears he refused to let fall.

“Sorry. Sorry.”

“The fu- you’re sorry?” Bacchus stared at his young companion in disbelief. “For what? Getting sick?”

“I’m not sick.” The page struggled to catch his breath as he spoke. “I’m not sick. It was. A hallucination or something.” He rotated the grimmer possibility in his head. “Might have been a memory. An old one. It was an amphitheatre. Not this one, but an amphitheatre. There was…blood everywhere. Shouting. Everyone shouting all around me but it was dull. Everything was slow. And it hurt. My chest. My mind. Everything.” His voice was flat as he spoke, shaking his head as though to knock loose the memories.
An unpleasant sensation prickled at the back of Bacchus’ mind as Somniorum spoke. Deaths on proving grounds were to be expected, not that he found any comfort in that knowledge. “Try not to dwell on it if you want to stay sane. Some things are better left behind.” He held out his hand to the knight.

Somniorum wordlessly took the senshi’s hand, allowing the alien to help him to his feet. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll try not to dwell on it. Let’s go.”