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 Posted: Sat Aug 22, 2026 6:13 pm
“Greetings, General, or should I say, General Sovereign?” Zinkenite called in greeting to see Jet, once General, capable, clever, loyal… now promoted and thriving.
“I’d hoped to run into you, or at least, I hoped that in seeking you out, I might catch you when you weren’t drowning in work.”
He hesitated and then summoned forth a pair of thermoses and a box of baked goods. “Might I entice you to take a small break and reminisce with me? I’ve read several reports, but I rather thought there were things I’d like to hear from a less professionally curated source. Something more casual? I can offer a spar if you’d prefer that to tea, but it would be a shame if the scones went stale.”
He lowered his arms, bearing the treats to his sides and added.
“I also apologize for my long absence; duty called me elsewhere. I don’t think I congratulated you properly on your promotion, so that, I fear, is overdue.”
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Posted: Sat Aug 22, 2026 6:25 pm
Jet looked up from the book spread open across one of the castle's surviving tables, one hand still resting against the yellowed page to keep it from curling back in on itself.
The room had likely served some greater purpose once. Now, like so much of the castle, it existed somewhere between ruin and repair. Cracked stone had been reinforced where necessary, mismatched furniture had been brought in to replace whatever had been lost, and the lighting came from a combination of old magic and newer figures that didn't exactly agree with each other. It was functional, though. Quiet, too, which was all Jet had needed.
He recognized Zinkenite immediately.
There had been a time when that alone would have made Jet straighten sharply and start mentally reviewing everything he might have done wrong. Even now, the old instinct was there — the automatic respect given to someone who had earned the title of General Sovereign long before Jet had imagined it might ever belong to him.
But he was not the teenager Zinkenite had briefly encountered in the Rift years ago. The respect remained, but Jet no longer felt compelled to prove he deserved to stand in the same room.
"Jet is appropriate enough among colleagues," he said, closing the book carefully before rising to greet him. "General King works too, if you're trying to make me feel old."
His expression remained composed, though the corner of his mouth twitched faintly. His gaze dropped to the thermoses and box when Zinkenite summoned them, and a quiet laugh escaped him before he could stop it.
"Of course there're baked goods," he said, more amused than surprised. "Axinite has led me to believe this is a requirement of the rank. I was beginning to worry I'd missed part of the promotion process."
Jet gestured toward the nearby chairs, shifting the book aside to make room on the table. A spar genuinely did sound appealing, but the offer of conversation held more weight than he thought Zinkenite intended. Jet remembered seeking him out once, however briefly, during the chaos of that mission in the Rift. He had been eager then — desperate, perhaps — to prove himself useful enough to be remembered.
He could not blame Zinkenite if he had not been.
"I wouldn't say I'm drowning," he added, glancing down at the old book. "Not today, at least. Queen Laurelite suggested I look into some of the older research on crystals. She has considerably more experience with them than I do, so I thought it'd be wise to learn what I can."
He rested a hand against the book's cover, careful with it even though its condition suggested it had survived worse treatment over the years.
"And there's no need to apologize for your absence," Jet continued. "Whatever work you were doing, I'm sure it benefited the Negaverse and Metallia. That's more important than whether you were here to congratulate me."
The words came easily because he meant them. Jet had never believed recognition mattered as much as results. The promotion had been an honor, but it had not been his alone. Too many agents had trusted him, worked beside him, and carried out the responsibilities that allowed any of them to succeed. He had only been the one receiving the title.
Still, he inclined his head respectfully.
"But thank you. I appreciate it."
His attention shifted again to the box of scones, then back to Zinkenite.
"I'd be happy to talk. Reports have their uses, but they don't always tell you much about the people behind them." His mouth curved with restrained amusement. "And after the scones are no longer at risk of going stale, I wouldn't object to that spar."
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Posted: Sat Aug 22, 2026 6:26 pm
Zinkenite ducked his head in a small laugh, a slightly embarrassed sound as he found a spot to place the ‘goodies’ that he had brought with him. The heavy thumps of the thermos and the weight of the cardboard box of scones breaking the moment up further, brushing away some of the potential for discomfort.
“I can still wish I’d been here to see you take your first steps on a well-deserved path. I missed a great deal, and the records only do it so much justice. As for the snacks, well… a bad habit of mine, I suppose. Nothing so grand as Axenite and his home baking, but I have served tea to senshi as I convince them to join the right side of the war.” He admitted.
“Tea or coffee?” He added, pulling his mask down around his neck as he tapped the top of each thermos respectively.
“Or should I worry that you’ll be more powerful with coffee in your system for our eventual spar?”
He started towards a chair, then, pausing to glance at the old book, added, with intrigue in his voice. “I’d be curious to hear as well about this Crystal research. I caught up with Benitonite about his plants, but this is new to me, I believe.”
“I was hoping to hear your perspective and experiences on the… Calametous Hollow as well, though if you’re comfortable sharing.”
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Posted: Sat Aug 22, 2026 6:26 pm
Jet watched Zinkenite set everything down, his expression easing slightly at the embarrassed laugh.
"Perhaps," he allowed when Zinkenite insisted he had missed something worth seeing. "Although I suspect the reports make it sound much more impressive than it was."
There had been no single moment that felt like taking the first step onto some grand, deserved path. Mostly there had been work, followed by more work, and the persistent awareness that every decision he made could affect far more people than himself. Jet had never needed recognition, only to know he was useful.
Jet's mouth twitched at the mention of using tea to recruit Senshi. "Effective habits are difficult to call bad ones," he hummed. "Although now I'm curious how many were persuaded by the Negaverse and how many were persuaded by the refreshments."
His attention shifted between the thermoses before settling decisively on one.
"Coffee, please." Jet glanced back at Zinkenite with restrained amusement. "You're giving me a presumed advantage before our spar?" he asked. "That's generous."
He paused, as though reconsidering. "Although with your experience, perhaps you've decided I'll need it."
The modesty was convincing enough, even if Jet had every confidence in his own ability. Zinkenite had been a General King long before Jet, but experience alone would not determine how their spar ended. Jet was content to let him discover that later.
His gaze followed Zinkenite's toward the book. "There isn't much to tell yet," he admitted. "I've only just started researching them."
That was true, at least as far as the book was concerned.
"The Rift is full of crystals, and we've seen enough unexpected threats lately that it seemed wise to understand every resource available to us. If something like the Hollow happens again, I'd rather we weren't caught unprepared."
At the mention of the Calamitous Hollow itself, Jet gave a quiet laugh. "The reports may honestly be more useful. They're certainly better organized than my memories of it."
He reached for the coffee once it was ready for him, still looking faintly amused. "But I'm comfortable discussing it. Where would you like me to start?"
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Posted: Sat Aug 22, 2026 6:27 pm
“The beginning is always a good start,” Zinkenite said with a small tease in his tone. “And don’t worry… if you asked me about the events of, say, the black or the white phoenix, I’d be hard-pressed even now to make the telling as clear as the reports I made. Sometimes I even wonder if I had a disembodied experience to write them as… calmly as I did. That and I have no intention of letting them forget that the Blood Moon Court happened.”
He rolled his shoulders in a small shrug and unscrewed the lid of one of the thermoses before summoning a mug and offering it. “I fear it is black… I tend to drink most of my tea that way, save Chai.”
Pouring a mug, he slid it gently to Jet.
“I wonder if we ever feel like we deserve the uniform we now wear. I wonder if I’d fully trust anyone who was utterly convinced they deserved it.”
It was an idle thought perhaps, but one that chased in his own mind frequently, and now chased the faintest hint of a thought in Jet’s own eyes.
But really, who dealt with compliments well anyhow?
“And, perhaps I am giving you Coffee in the hopes you’ll be too jittery to deal with my bombs.” He grinned. “Some of us weren’t blessed with weapons that do well in mid to short quarters.”
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Posted: Sat Aug 22, 2026 6:27 pm
"The Blood Moon Court was before my time," Jet admitted, accepting the mug with a quiet word of thanks. He took a drink without hesitation, apparently unbothered by the lack of cream or sugar.
Black coffee had become familiar during the Hollow crisis, when sleep had seemed inconvenient at best and dangerously irresponsible at worse.
"I've heard very little about them," he continued carefully. "Most of those who might have spoken about it have moved on to other assignments, and there always seems to be some new threat demanding attention."
His tone remained respectful, without any suggestion that Zinkenite's history was unimportant.
"But failed courts still have lessons to offer, I'm sure. No offense intended."
Jet glanced down at his uniform when Zinkenite mentioned deserving it. He understood the sentiment more than he intended to admit, though he suspected too much confidence could be dangerous in any leader.
"I think wondering about it is probably healthier than assuming there was never any question," he said simply.
His gaze lifted again at the mention of bombs, interest sharpening behind his amusement.
"Bombs?" he repeated. "You might want to explain those before we spar. For safety, of course."
The faint curve of his mouth suggested concern for his own safety was not his only motivation. Any advantage freely offered was still an advantage, and Jet had no intention of discouraging Zinkenite from revealing more.
"As for the Hollow…. the beginning was a prison," he continued, settling back with the coffee between his hands. "We were taken there without warning after the creature imprisoned inside had already escaped."
Even that description felt too… simple. There had been too many people, too many conflicting impressions, and too little information about whatever had decided to involve them.
"The reports may still paint a better picture. Everyone seemed to come away with a slightly different understanding of what happened." Jet paused briefly. "What stood out to me was that it brought the Negaverse and the White Moon there together. Not as separate forces, but as one group."
His expression turned thoughtful. "That seems like a very deliberate choice for something powerful enough to pull all of us there."
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Posted: Sat Aug 22, 2026 6:27 pm
“No offence taken at all; I admit to simply ruminating.”
He nodded in solidarity, though, about wondering if a uniform was deserved. Perhaps he should have wondered that sort of thing back when he was a Lieutenant too; certainly he’d wondered many times at General.
“A little healthy speculation keeps us on our toes, I think. The minute we start thinking this was owed us, I feel like the actual purpose of it starts slipping from our grasp.”
He ran a hand through his bangs and then laughed softly at the piqued interest in his explosive weaponry.
“Smoke is their primary danger; it’s… tear gas. Irritates all mucous membranes; even the most resolute person is likely to find themselves throwing up from how irritating it can be. Watering eyes, difficulty breathing. My mask and goggles come in quite handy, though it does also reduce visibility.”
He looked thoughtful for a moment and then added. “The concussive element is less a concern at our degree of resilience, but a lieutenant might find themselves incapacitated.”
His voice trailed off, however, as the recount of the calamitous event began. His chair creaked as he leaned forward to catch each word and intonation.
“A prison…” He repeated in fascination. “And it gave no concern who’s side of the war people were on? That rather begs the question who imprisoned it… and when.” He mused.
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Posted: Sat Aug 22, 2026 6:27 pm
Jet listened closely as Zinkenite explained, his expression remaining politely interested even as he began working through the implications.
Tear gas was useful if the target stayed within the cloud long enough for it to do something. Visibility would be compromised for both of them, but Zinkenite had already accounted for that with his mask and goggles. Jet would need to do the same — or make sure he never gave the bombs the opportunity to become a problem in the first place.
He was mildly surprised by how readily Zinkenite offered the information. Perhaps he was simply that confident in his ability to use it regardless. Perhaps he trusted Jet because they held the same rank. Or perhaps the explanation was bait, intended to make Jet prepare for one threat while overlooking another.
Whatever the reason, Jet gave no indication that his thoughts had gone any further than simple curiosity.
"Useful," he said, taking another drink of coffee. "Especially against someone caught in the cloud before they realize what it is."
His mouth curved slightly in vague amusement. "I appreciate the warning. I'll try not to make you regret giving it."
At Zinkenite's question about the prison, Jet leaned back slightly in his chair.
"It was old," he said. "Old enough that whatever history surrounded it was probably lost long before most of us were born."
There were exceptions, of course. People whose lives and memories stretched back farther than Jet's own understanding of the war. But Zinkenite was capable of reading the same reports Jet had, and Jet saw no reason to volunteer names or theories before he knew what Zinkenite already understood.
"There may be a few who know more," he continued. "Or who could recognize something the rest of us missed."
His gaze lowered briefly to the dark surface of his coffee.
"But the Hollow didn't seem concerned with our war. Whatever imprisoned it, and whatever it wanted afterward, the division between the Negaverse and the White Moon either meant nothing to them or was deliberately ignored." He glanced back up at Zinkenite, thoughtful. "I'm not sure which possibility is more concerning."
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Posted: Sat Aug 22, 2026 6:28 pm
Zinkenite leaned back in the chair, steepling his hands together under his chin, elbows on the arms of the chair as he leaned back and considered.
“Yes, and it seemed like there was a threat of its return.” He murmured. “I thought the Zodiac were trouble. Or the fact that the Moon has knights now… that they can visit the moon, the ‘Code’ for the knights. Everything has changed; it feels like.” He exhaled and rubbed a temple.
“Great serpents descending from the sky to eat worlds- sounds like old mythology, but even if it was related, it would have been an echo of something so far back that it’s left only a primal fear.” He mused.
“Aquamarine did an excellent report. I heard a few interesting things regarding Faustite, but his descriptions of the murals were valuable. Do you have… further impressions you’d like to share? People I might talk to?”
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Posted: Sat Aug 22, 2026 6:28 pm
Jet watched him quietly over the rim of his mug.
"A great deal has changed," he agreed. "Although aliens and survivors from other worlds aren't entirely theoretical anymore, either. Some of them live among us now."
He kept the observation mild. Zinkenite had returned to a war that had continued evolving without him; there was little benefit in emphasizing how far behind the old reports might leave him.
"The prison was approximately thirteen hundred years old, based on the material recovered from it. The Hollow itself may have been known even earlier than that, although apparently not well. One record described a world vanishing into a debris field with residual electrical activity twelve hundred years ago."
Jet paused, taking another drink of coffee.
"My impression was that it was intelligent enough to make deliberate choices once it became aware of those around it. But whatever transported both sides to the prison seemed to be a separate force — one apparently intent on warning us, or at least ensuring we found the clues left behind."
Jet paused, taking another drink of coffee.
"The Hollow itself appeared capable of interacting with people's minds, and it had an obvious interest in Earth. Whether that interest went beyond hunger is harder to say."
The reports had captured the facts well enough. His own impressions were less orderly — sleepless nights, contingencies, and the persistent awareness that they had been preparing to fight something capable of consuming entire worlds. None of that needed to be included.
"As for who to speak with…" Jet considered the question carefully. "Queen Laurelite probably knows the most, but I wouldn't bother her unless you had something specific to ask. Axinite keeps good records. He'd probably know who could help."
His gaze settled on Zinkenite again.
"The people named in the reports might have more to say, but I can't promise they'll all want to talk. Some of the White Moon shared information because they didn't want the Earth destroyed, either. That doesn't make them our friends."
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Posted: Sat Aug 22, 2026 6:28 pm
“No, unfortunately that only accounts for shared interest, and they might now consider it too far in the past to share even information and impressions beyond the report. Good to note that there seems to be another force at work; however, I don’t recall seeing anyone mentioning such an impression in the reports.”
Shame that it seemed one of the sources had suffered severe memory loss, who might otherwise have been counted upon.
He rubbed at his brow for a moment and took a deep breath.
“Thank you so much for your time. I will ask you at some point in the future for a spar. Though I suspect you will outdo me. I am rusty and ill-prepared, I admit.”
He stood and nodded his respect to the other. Peers though they might be, he still felt it owed to someone who had been so active and present while he’d been sent away for so long.
“Another time, and thank you.”
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