The Lord of Nightmares coasted across depthless space, growing more irritated by the minute.
Xellos was nowhere to be found, the son-of-a-Beast. He had quite simply vanished from all the planes; there was only a very faint trace near Zelas' domain, but it was somewhat cold.
Of course, being the Golden Lord and Mother of All Things, she had been able to sense, as Zelas had not, that his trace had crossed over. He had been pulled from the sphere of her influence and knowledge by some equally powerful force--a force which, naturally, left behind quite a considerable trace.
Well, considerable if you were a fellow Goddess, anyways.
L-Sama took a moment to suspend time in her own world, so that no mischief would be done in her absence--there was just no trusting the Hellmaster--then reached forward a golden hand and parted dimensions.
"DAMMIT!"
It wasn't fair. It just wasn't. The teleport hadn't worked--Xellos was still surrounded by the same bleak planetscape, the same windswept silence. No Zelas.
He took a moment to swear furiously, swinging the Glaive a little for effect, before regaining his composure with an embarrassed cough.
Well. This presented a problem. If he couldn't bend space, then... what? He was stuck here until he solved Sailor Majesty's problem, that's what. But then, if he couldn't teleport, he might not be able to use any of his other magic... meaning that magic in this realm worked on a completely different principle... meaning that he couldn't even advise Sweetness-And-Light on how to create the weapon she needed.
Unless...
His fingers tightened around the Silence Glaive. No. There was absolutely no way he was giving up his own weapon for the sake of some--
"Excuse me?"
He turned.
First Xellos saw a flash of silver and garnet--were his eyes working properly, or was it in the shape of a key?--and then the elegant fountain of dark-green hair, the sad, wise ruby-red eyes, the curve of a perfect, golden-tanned neck. Actually, more curves than just the neck. All of them hugged by a flowing, satiny black dress, which spilled and clung to the body beneath like darkness itself...
Well, hell, Zelas could wait.
"And who might you be?" he purred.
