Faery Fire had taken to mothering the Sensational Sword Saint Sailors like a bird to the sky, because birds know the difference between sky and ground while fish don’t know what water is. She ate with them, danced with them, sang with them, helped them with homework, tucked them in at night, and held Pink close when she slept to ward off bad dreams.

Gargoyle did all of this too, for tactical reasons.

Well, at the very least he was nearby for most of it. When Faery Fire told him to practice with the Sailors, she found that he couldn’t hold a note and had two left feet. When Faery Fire told him to help with homework, she found that Gargoyle’s highschool education had given him a tenuous grasp of the English language, and not much else. When Faery Fire asked for help in the kitchen, she found that Gargoyle’s cooking experience included grilling and only grilling, but at least he was good at it. There was no way Gargoyle was going to share a bed with a highschool girl, despite Faery Fire’s insistence, and stood outside when she tucked them in.

At the very least, Faery Fire was glad he was willing to be nearby, tactical reasons or not.

One morning, after breakfast, Blue asked Faery Fire if she wanted to escort them to school, given that the Sailors had recovered enough to go to school.

“Yes-” Faery Fire cheered.

“No-” Gargoyle growled, guessing at what Blue and Faery Fire were talking about.

“Yes!” Faery Fire insisted, “You keep going on about how we need to stick together in case of a Rider attack. We should escort them to school.”

“No,” Gargoyle repeated, “You have fairy wings and a tail. You’ll stick out like a sore thumb, and draw the enemy to us.”

Faery Fire cocked an eyebrow, and her tail and wings vanished in a sparkle of light, and her hair turned from golden blonde to brown.

“Since when have you been able to do that?” Gargoyle demanded.

“Since always,” Faery Fire answered, “Part of my manifestation. How do you think I hide my identity back home?”

“Then why haven’t you?” Gargoyle asked.

“I enjoy the attention,” Faery Fire said with a shrug, “Now, I’ll help the girls get dressed so get your shoes on.”

Riders didn’t attack on the walk from the Sailors’ studio to the subway station, or during the subway ride, or on the walk from the station to the Sailors’ school. There was, however, something Gargoyle noticed outside the gates of the school. A school boy looked at Blue, a blush crossed his face, and he looked away.

“Hey,” Gargoyle muttered to Faery Fire, “That’s that guy. Prom King Rider, I think?”

“The one with a crush on Sword Saint Blue?” Faery Fire said, focusing on the boy, “It is!” Faery Fire leaned over to whisper to Blue. “Blue, that kid’s a Rider.”

“Which one?” Blue asked.

“Prom King Rider,” Faery Fire said.

“Heikin? Prom King Rider?” Blue laughed, “Hah! He’s the most average boy in school!”

“Really?” Red said, “You think Heikin is a Rider? That he’s Prom King Rider? He’s not even in any clubs!”

“He doesn’t even have a part time job!” Green laughed.

“He’s not even in any sports teams!” Blue laughed.

“Or on the student council!” Red laughed.

“He doesn’t even get good grades!” Green said.

“And he definitely doesn’t have a girlfriend!” Red laughed.

“I hear he doesn’t even have a hobby!” Blue laughed.

“So this one kid, Heikin,” Faery Fire said, “Has a lot of free time and doesn’t spend it on studying, relationships, hobbies, or any kind of commitment. And he looks exactly like Prom King Rider, just without the mask and cape.”

“Prom King Rider is cool and handsome,” Blue said, putting a hand to her cheek as a smile forced its way into her face, “Heikin dull and boring!”

“So,” Faery Fire said, turning back to Gargoyle, “That boy is definitely Prom King Rider.”

“Should I shadow him?” Gargoyle asked.

“Gargoyle,” Faery Fire said, “I am not going to let you sneak around a school to creep on some kid.”

"He's a Rider," Gargoyle argued.

"He's a kid," Faery Fire retorted, "And he helped us."

"He could be a spy," Gargoyle said.

"Excuse me," a teacher said, "Are you meeting with a teacher?"

"Huh?" Faery Fire asked.

"If you're not here for a parent teacher meeting," the teacher said, "I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"What's she saying?" Gargoyle asked.

"Sorry, we'll be leaving," Faery Fire said, "Gargoyle, we're leaving. They don't want us creeping around outside their school."

"I could sneak in there," Gargoyle said, "Security looks light."

"You know, I heard that recently some guy broke into a nearby school and kidnapped two girls," Faery Fire said, "Probably best not to worry people."

Pink couldn't sleep.

She couldn't focus in school, she had barely eaten, she had trouble practicing, singing, dancing, her handwriting had gotten worse, she couldn't keep up with the other Sailors during combat practice.

And her hands. Her hands kept shaking.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Shonen Rider. She saw Shonen Rider, mutilated and bleeding, shambling after her. Wailing and screaming. Begging and pleading. She could hear Sailor Celestial betraying her, feel her sword burn her hands at her betrayal.

She had also seen how the rest of the Sailors had started looking at her. After the fight, all of the Sailors had been hurt and hurt badly. But Pink had been in perfect health! She should have gone with, from the very start she should have gone with them from the beginning. Fought to protect them no matter what it cost her. Should have made sure she was the one in a hospital bed.

Faery Fire held Pink in a tight snuggle as she slept. Her breathing was soft and rhythmic, occasionally murmuring in or sleep. It was a soft and tender cuddle, Faery Fire wrapped around Pink and holding the Sailor to her chest.

Faery Fire was smart, Pink knew, smart and beautiful, and strong, resilient. Pink had seen that the fight had barely affected Faery Fire compared to the rest of the Sailors. Faery Fire was so beautiful, but Pink felt disgusting. She didn't deserve this.

Gargoyle couldn't sleep.

The couch that he was trying to sleep on was great for sitting in, but the moment he tried to lay on it, Gargoyle felt metal panels digging into him. Another issue was that the seats were put close enough together to bend his spine in uncomfortable angles when he tried to lay on his side. Harsh neon lights came in from the studio's wide and tall windows, burning at Gargoyle’s eyes, and teaming up with the endless noise of Japan’s nightlife.

After what must have been hours spent with his head tucked into the couch, breathing with a soft, steady rhythm, and letting his mind wander as he tried to sleep, Gargoyle was snapped back to the waking world.

Pink flinched back as Gargoyle jerked around, a scowl on his face and a fist half raised. Gargoyle’s anger shifted to confusion, wondering what the Sailor could have woken him up for. Pink took Gargoyle’s hand and gave a single gentle, yet insistent, tug. Pink’s eyes were bloodshot and puffy, her hands trembled as they clutched a large plushie. Gargoyle sat up, and patted the seat next to him. Pink choked back sobs, trembling in her seat. Gargoyle took her hand. His hand dwarfed Pink’s, rough with calluses and thick with muscles compared to Pink’s slender, It was steady, powerful, reassuring.

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Pink held it for dear life.

“So, I really don’t know how to speak Japanese,” Gargoyle said, “But, I have seen what you’re going through in a lot of good men.” Gargoyle put his other hand around Pink’s shoulder and hugged her close. “And I don’t know how to tell you this, but all of them overcame it.” Tears ran hot down Pink’s cheeks as she leaned into Gargoyle. “I’ve heard from some of them that it’s good to try to think of what you did in a different way. And I and I don’t know how to say this in a language you can understand, but you did the right thing. I know it was hard, and I know it never gets any easier, but Shonen Rider was going to kill all of us.” Gargoyle nestled up to Pink. “It’s not right that you had to be the one to kill him, but you were right to kill him. Do you understand? It was a harsh, painful thing, but you were right in what you did. You know, I heard that gargoyles are supposed to ward off evil spirits, or something like that. So I’ll tell you what, anything that tries to get to you is going to have to go through me..”

Perhaps it was the work of Sailor Celestial, perhaps it was a harsh reality softening at the sight of Sailor Pink, perhaps it was some entity the adventurers had dragged with them. Perhaps Pink simply understood the idea that Gargoyle was stumbling to convey, taking in his emotions rather than his words. Regardless, Pink did understand Gargoyle. She wondered if this was what it was like to have a father. Not a motherly, affectionate, provider like Faery Fire, but a stoic, resolute, and strong defender.

It was nice.

Together, the two drifted off to sleep.

Gargoyle’s eyes snapped open. It was still night, maybe three hours had passed. Gargoyle’s time spent in the military had given him an incredible sense of paranoia, and Gargoyle assured himself that it wasn't paranoia if they actually were coming to get you.

Something, Gargoyle knew, was wrong. Pink was still fast asleep. All the lights were still on. Gargoyle slowly pulled himself up, careful to not wake the resting Sailor, and alarms rang in his head all the while. Gargoyle checked behind the couch, and found a few spare chairs. He checked the corners of the living room, but saw no lurking shadows.

Something was wrong, Gargoyle knew, yet everything seemed to be in order. Pink's sword floated in the air next to her, the door to the studio had no signs of forced entry, he couldn’t find anyone who had snuck in, and the sound of the city had been reduced to silence.

Silence, Gargoyle thought.

Gargoyle snapped his fingers. Nothing. He clapped his hands. Nothing.

Riders, Gargoyle knew. Pink had killed Shonen Rider, and it seemed like Ultimate Rider had had enough of the Sailors. At the very least, Sailor Pink would be deemed too much of a threat, Gargoyle thought, and would be swiftly eliminated. He hurried for the door to Pink’s bedroom.

As Gargoyle reached for the door handle, the door swung open. Gargoyle looked at three Riders. Thief Rider, Ninja Rider, and Agent Rider, looked at Gargoyle. Gargoyle punched Thief Rider square in the face. Anything that was going to hurt Pink was going to go through him first.

The fight was short. Gargoyle had healed quickly, but still wasn’t in the best shape, and the three Riders had good teamwork. Thief Rider staggered back from Gargoyle’s punch, but Agent Rider dove forward to grab Gargoyle’s arm. Ninja Rider ducked behind Gargoyle and pulled a cloth to his face, and instinctively Gargoyle held his breath. Gargoyle, fighting for air, hooked a punch into Agent Rider, slamming him into the wall hard enough to crack the plaster, only for Thief Rider to tackle Gargoyle and Ninja Rider to the ground. Ninja Rider tucked an arm under Gargoyle’s arm, wrenching it up as Thief Rider pinned one of Gargoyle’s legs against the hero’s chest. Gargoyle brought his other leg up and hooked it around Thief Rider, slowly pulling the Rider off him, only for Agent Rider to stomp Gargoyle in the chest. After the second kick from Agent Rider, Gargoyle’s hand lanced out, grabbing Agent Rider’s boot. Ninja Rider kicked Gargoyle’s hand away, and Agent Rider stomped on Gargoyle again, kicking the air from his lungs. Gargoyle took a single, choking breath, and then-

Blackness.

Gargoyle woke up, which he thought was a good thing because it meant he didn’t die. He was tied down to a chair, sitting in a cold, concrete room. Across the table from him was a man in white suit and the same angular, black masks of the Rider Gang.

“Gargoyle,” the man said, a bit of an accent creeping into his voice, “You’ve done some impressive work in a short time.”

“Who are you?” Gargoyle demanded.

“Ah, I suppose you wouldn’t know me,” the man said, “Not many people get a chance to see me in person. I am Ultimate Rider.”

Gargoyle spat at him.

"Ever the brave warrior," Ultimate Rider said, stepping behind Gargoyle.

"What do you want from me," Gargoyle demanded.

"Nothing," Ultimate Rider said, tilting Gargoyle’s chair back and dragging him, "I found your fights against my Riders quite fascinating. It will be a shame to lose someone with such a great capacity for violence."

"If you were going to kill me, you'd have done that already," Gargoyle said.

"Such insight!" Ultimate Rider laughed, "This is a special request from one of my lieutenants. He wanted you to know what was going to happen to you."

"And what is that?" Gargoyle asked.

"Ah, here we are," Ultimate Rider said, pushing a door open.

Inside was what Gargoyle could only describe as a costume, and an ugly one at that. It was bug eyed, thin lipped, a smile made of fangs, gangly arms and legs, spindly wings, and gray. A gargoyle costume, Gargoyle realized, made for the cartoons he used to watch on early Saturday mornings, breakfast cereal in hand. It was hung up on hooks, dangling in the middle of the room like some freakish marionette, and the back of it had been torn open. In the corner sat a man, covered in bandages, and glaring angrily at Gargoyle.

“That suit will consume your mind,” Ultimate Rider commented, “Turn you into a crazed, destructive, miserable monster waiting to be put down.”

“By the Sailors?” Gargoyle guessed.

“I certainly won’t be loosing you in my cities,” Ultimate Rider remarked.

“Why are you doing this?” Gargoyle demanded, “Tormenting young girls like this?”

“Ah, ever the question,” Ultimate Rider said, “In truth, I am not a violent man. I have no desire to harm or kill them-”

“Right,” Gargoyle muttered.

“I merely need to break their spirits,” Ultimate Rider explained, “They work against the natural order of the world! You see, not many realize this, but manifested have been among humanity since the dawn of history. And yet, in all that time, there has never been a nation run by a manifested. Always, out of some petty sense of duty, obligation, or maligned morality, the most powerful people in history have all bent their knees to mortal authority. On the the very cusp of greatness, they concede to mundanity,”

“So?” Gargoyle asked.

“So, I am developing the first ever manifested first nation the world has ever seen,” Ultimate Rider said, “My Rider’s provide service to their communities that common men and women could never hope to match, it is only natural that they be given preferential treatment. They are told they are better than other people solely on the grounds that they are better than other people. And what do the Sailors do?”

“Provide the same service, but-” Gargoyle said.

“They concede their power to mortal authority,” Ultimate Rider, “Useless! Fate deemed the manifested be the rightful rulers of all the Earth, I say it’s time to take fate up on the offer. But enough about that, this suit needs exactly one human body and I don't really care who walks out here. My lieutenant in the corner there has proven more trouble than he's met, and when he demanded you be suited I gave him the condition that he has to push you in there himself." Ultimate Rider released the restraints on Gargoyle’s chair. "Gentlemen, have a good day. I have a country to run."

Ultimate Rider strode out of the room and shut the door behind him.

A Rider mask flashed into existence across the face of the bandaged man, and he ripped away the bandages and casts that covered him.

“Bring it,” Gargoyle remarked, squaring himself for a fight.

Gargoyle could guess who the Rider was, but honestly didn’t care. Shonen Rider charged in with his fist pulled back for a devastating swing, only Gargoyle to step in, deflect Shonen Rider’s wild punch with one hand and smash Shonen Rider’s face against his elbow with the other hand. Shonen Rider staggered back, blood trailing from his broken nose, as Gargoyle cut across Shonen Rider’s brow with his fist.

It was clear to Gargoyle that Shonen Rider had still not fully recovered from the beating he and the Sailors had given the Rider, but realized that Shonen Rider was still incredibly dangerous. As Shonen Rider charged Gargoyle again, fury etched into the Rider’s face, Gargoyle fell backwards, placing a hand on the Rider’s shoulder to drag the villain with him. Tucking a foot under Shonen Rider, Gargoyle rolled when he landed and kicked Shonen Rider into the air. Shonen Rider landed cleanly in the open back of the costume, and despair quickly replaced anger. Gargoyle watched, partly out of curiosity and partly out of shock, as thin, fiber like tendrils wrapped around Shonen Rider. The Rider struggled, pulled and clawed at them, but for every thin line he broke ten more, and then fifty more, shot up from the suit to drag Shonen Rider in.

The suit shook and writhed as Shonen Rider was pulled into it, his muffled screams still clear in Gargoyle’s ears, and the back of the suit slowly closed itself, folding over Shonen Ride like a flower bud. Finally, the suit stopped moving. Gargoyle decided to leave before it started moving again.

Once again, he wasn’t sure where to go. Stepping onto the city streets, Gargoyle decided to simply follow some of the larger crowds until he found a subway station. Faery Fire had given him a map to help him navigate the subway, and hopefully it wouldn’t take him too long to get back to the studio.

Gargoyle’s phone rang. From an unknown number, no less.

“Who are you?” Gargoyle demanded, answering the phone.

“This is Stone Cutter,” Stone Cutter said, “You’re needed back home.”

“Which way to the airport?” Gargoyle asked.

“Just get in the car,” Stone Cutter instructed, a black car pulling up beside Gargoyle.

“I’ll need to make a call,” Gargoyle said, stepping into the car.

Faery Fire woke up to a wailing scream. The noise shocked her out of sleep and into a waking panic. She sprinted down the halls to find Pink crying and sobbing on the couch. Faery Fire pulled her into a hug, one that Pink tried to squirm out of. The other Sailors came running to comfort Pink, and Faery Fire pulled away when her phone rang.

“Where are you?” Faery Fire seethed, spitting words through clenched teeth.

“On a plane back to The States,” Gargoyle said, “You should join me.”

“Have you lost your mind!” Faery Fire screamed, “What did you promise me last night? Did you even care?”

“I did, but this is important,” Gargoyle said, “Trust me. Check the news. Oh, and tell Pink I’m not dead.”

Faery Fire punched the buttons on the T.V. remote, pulling whatever the Sailors had been watching to the local news station.

Faery Fire recognized the East coast of America, which confused her. Near the horizon of the windy shores was a red spot, and as the camera zoomed in Faery Fire saw it.

It was a blood red castle adorned with skulls, engines spewing fire to carry the castle through the air.

Atop a balcony, gesturing with grandiose intent, was Gorestrike.