A silver haired man with distinctive gold streaks smiled and nodded at an unseen accomplice in a small, red cushioned seat. He blinked, adjusted the well fitting grey sports coat, dark blue vest, and informally worn formal white shirt, coughed, then proceeded to break the forth wall.
"Welcome to the 'Anime Niche Review'," he offered with an unmistakably congenial smile. "I'm your host, Randy Hayworth of the 'Coalition Authorized Newsletter'."
Abruptly, another, slimmer fellow appeared. He smiled as well, his short black dark hair gleaming healthily. His trademark black turtleneck sweater ended at a pair of loose khaki slacks, one leg of which he pulled up to rest on the opposing knee.
"And I'm Mamoru Chiba, of the 'Moonlight Night Times.' Tonight we're going to re-review a recent film that has met a great deal of controversy since it's release not one month ago."
The attention swapped to the other fellow, on cue.
"This is a film is based on the Japanese television series called 'Pretty Soldier Sailor Moon.' For those of you not familiar with the plot, it's about five schoolgirls, who at one point defended Tokyo from an evil force known as the 'NegaForce.' The famed television series was translated into nearly a dozen languages, and until its recent resurgence, was incomplete. With fewer than fifty of the two hundred episodes released in Japan, it's not hard to understand why the completion of it has been met with such a positive response. As for this movie, which is an odd thing in itself, the idea stems around a "what-if" concept: A being from the 'NegaVerse' dimension sends them to a violent world where World War Three is just an unpleasant memory. Let me say now that if you haven't followed the television series, that it will dramatically affect how much you can both enjoy the movie and understand it. The fact of the matter is that it stands out strongly against the other movies based on this series."
Mamoru blinked as attention was routed to him.
"It's groundbreaking P.A.C. - Petaflop Artificial Cast - technology seems to have been lost in the wake of the media circle which has sprung up around it. While their acting is without peer, as they bring the script to its finest rendition, they are limited by their code. The interest of seeing unique individuals portray characters with which we are already very familiar is almost lost. As they literally become the character, using script generated digital profiles. There is certainly no lack of controversy here, on any scale."
Mamoru nodded, then took a breath before opening his own monologue.
"So why did you give it a thumbs up then?"
"Well, as mentioned, the acting was without peer."
"I find that description annoyingly vague. Well, given the situation, and having read the novels from which this movie was adapted, I was impressed. I felt it did a decent job of connecting point A to point B, even with all the time shifting involved. The loss of minor characters, that could have been fascinating, did not dissuade my enthusiastic thumbs up. I recommend it to any fan of the already expansive franchise. Especially when one considers the first time use of P.A.C. actors, even in the midst of legal battles rivalling the recently settled Clone Agenda."
Randy answered a hefty nod. "I agree, the main problem with this film lies in the narrow band of audience it focuses on. I would have to limit my recommendation to fans of the series and those who seek to enjoy the technical prowess this film displays. Not that I didn't enjoy this film."
Mamoru smiled. "At least there's a common point of agreement. After the break, we'll explore in depth the explicit violence and moral issues surrounding the P.A.C. actors that have had this film banned in twenty countries around the globe."
There was a rapid darkening, which was reverted by the appearance of a blond haired woman sitting back upon a khaki couch. The male voice prodded earnestly and carelessly, yet with most pleasant tones: "As I understand it, P.A.C. actors are submitted to the digital equivalent of the actual violence to maximize the realism. Being digital yourself, that would make it as real as if I were to die of a heart attack right now." Dramatic Pause. "I also understand that you recall each violent experience you had playing the role of Usagi Tsukino."
She nodded curtly. "Yes. In a sense I was her. You see, instead of make up, I merely have to accept a digital profile, and instantly,' she flickered, her semi formal blue blouse and dry cleaned black skirt altering to the angelic blue kimono accented with blue and golden elaborate detailing, her hair assuming the form of the appropriate odango atama. As she spoke, her voice had seemed to brighten by two and a half notes, gaining a slightly melodic quality.
"And I can keep several hundred characters on file at any given time. Of course I have to fill in any blanks - like body language nuances and other behaviours, like any 'real' actor. I'm not just spouting code," she chuckled.
"So you code yourself. That is, rewrite yourself to suit the character?"
"Um, sort of. I don't see it like that, like the actual ones and zeros, but I understand what you mean. Really I just act like anyone else." There was a brief spout of giggling and an embarrassing snort. "Oh dear," she giggled. "I'll have to have a purge. Um…" a blush washed onto her lovely face, and she sputtered for a moment until regaining her composure, thus enabling her to continue. "As for the events in the movie that I portrayed? I remember each one with perfect clarity."
"So what is your psychologist bill like?" the voice laughed.
She chuckled softly. "Well I can store the memories, keeping them out of my active memory, uh… what I mean is, I put them away, so I don't actually have to deal with them all the time. Not good to have a wacko on the set, you know," she smiled. "Unless it's in the script."
There was some congenial laughter. "Okay, so I have to ask; what was it like to experience the various stages of decapitation and disembowelment you suffered in the final battle?"
The young woman pursed her lips in consideration. "Truthfully? All that wasn't so bad. It was the rape that really got to me. For some reason, I'm not able to store those kinds of memories, so they stay with me. Even the purge won't do it…"
'No!' Usagi sat up out of bed, the word sour on her frowning lips. She was sweating, a cold, urgent perspiration. The clarity was frightening.
Being alone failed to help the matter. Mamoru had elected to watch the healing girls, who had been so terribly ravaged. It had taken so long, and so much power to heal them, being almost slaughtered by the mystic forces they had been thrown against. Images swam in Usagi's mind, the finest details of falling crimson, of rent flesh, of slashed minds. The mental damage itself had been nearly enough to undo Ayla entirely. Usagi had spoken at length with the shaken young woman:
'We would be dead,' she whispered, red eyes trailing over a strange, yet familiar Usagi Tsukino. 'Are you sure we…' her voice fell. That wasn't right. Was she sure they would make it? She was the leader of the Neo Senshi, after all. But she wasn't. Not after this.
'Yes Ayla? You know what is stake. You must not forget that.'
'You know I haven't. How could I? It's only our entire world we're fighting for in the long run,' was the fatigued reply. She took several staggered, catching breaths. 'I know why helped me, instead of someone else.'
Usagi nodded slightly. 'It's more than being the leader of the Neo Senshi, though. It's about you, Ayla-chan. I know it's not easy to ask them to risk death for you,' her eyebrows reached for each other doubtfully. 'My friends have died once already, and now we face it again. It takes a lot of strength to do this.'
She had closed her eyes slowly in lieu of a nod for which she had not the strength. 'What about Xalia?' she asked with some hesitation, vindictively fearful of the answer. "I've seen the message. Do you know what's happened to her?'
Usagi had gazed directly into her eyes. 'Uraki-Ayo discovered her ploy. What they have done to her,' her voice darkened. 'I do not know exactly. She is in grave pain.'
Ayla merely shook her head, emotions a stirred, boiling pot in her being.
They would be dead if Phate had not made me the angel of the Moon, she thought, both comforted and ho
rrified by this revelation. There was no escaping the terminating point; battling Uraki-Ayo, the Earth hanging again in the balance. Yet, for everything she stood for, and was, the last daughter of Queen Serenity, the final heiress of a kingdom that existed in no more than her heart, it had to end differently. There would be no second chance, no rebirth, and no saviour to cull them from the razored grasp of Death's silvery scythe. Either they, or Uraki-Ayo would perish. She bowed her head in silence.
Where was the end of the movie? she wondered. Her dream, still vivid, spoke lucidly. The idea she might die so gruesomely made her shudder, and balk. She was not infinite. Death could indeed claim her. Uraki-Ayo would surely turn to the NegaForce for such power. It was inconceivable that he would not. That led to a darker strain she feared more greatly than even loss.
'Usagi-san?' issued comforting female tones. Gradually, feeling the vacant ebb of tears, she glanced upwards at the warm, sharp presence of Nasura. She was shrouded in nightgown and housecoat of grey and white. 'I'm sorry for putting you through all of this.'
'Through all of what?' she replied in what might have been clear, crisp Japanese, if not for the rending turmoil. 'You have saved us… we owe you our lives.'
'No,' she negated ineffectively. 'Not really. I know I've opened the door to your freedom, but I haven't done it out of generosity.'
Usagi blinked, and listened quietly, her mind a shut, jewelled box. Nasura frowned vaguely, then her face became winsome again.
'I did it because I was losing it. After Takari and the kids died, I turned to what always made be forget: All-consuming research. In college I ran did small time investigation firm to cover tuition…' she offered a feeble grin and chuckle. 'It came so naturally…'
'I understand, Nasura-san.' She gave her an uncertain look, but felt that she truly did.
'I had a couple of friends who came to me… it just happened that you disappeared when you did.' She offered a faint frown. 'I could be chasing down a cure for a water curse in China right now…'
Usagi nodded gently, pulling her knees up to her body and knotting her arms about them. Her wings shifted and flexed slightly.
'I guess what it comes down to is, I feel responsible for everything that's happened. I've been watching you since Luna first chose you. When Uraki-Ayo replaced Beryl, I had a notion - even if it was nebulous - of what was coming. I could have done something. Saved you from all this pain.'
Usagi glanced up at her, face softly blank, a startlingly innocent regard holding her. 'Nasura, why are you here?'
She flagged. 'I wanted…' she paused. 'You know, I've been a KnightsMage for twenty years, and I still don't know why they made me elect trainer of the squires.'
'You're strong. A survivor,' she chimed pleasantly. 'Like your senshi. And mine.'
'If only by the slip of pinfeathers,' she half smiled, the fleeting humour dropping wounded between them. 'I guess after watching you all along, and helping you behind the thick red curtain… I wanted to know you better, Tsukino Usagi.'
She smiled at that.
'Hai…' Usagi's brows furrowed. 'How are the girls?'
Nasura caught herself amidst relief and sorrow. 'They will have healed by tomorrow… incredibly enough,' she offered, clearly awed. She shook her head with a distinct frown. 'It's been such a trial by fire for them. The moment they - well no - much before they were even Knighted, it's been non-stop contention. He's made things very difficult.'
'Hai,' she agreed wistfully. 'And what about you? What will you do?'
'I've decided to remain. Ayla is blossoming as I expected she would, but they will need my power here.'
Usagi nodded.
Chapter 44
A Brief Respite