It is coming. It is so near that it makes my back itch between my shoulder blades as if someone with ill intent was looming behind me, so close that if I turned around I could reach out and touch it. What is ‘it’, you may ask. It is War. A war unlike any that has bloomed upon this world since the Fall of the Silver Millennium. In a way, this war is far worse than the Fall for it stretches across time and space. But, perhaps that is merely my nerves talking. We have anticipated war, this War for so long. Waiting, waiting for the other shoe to fall has been hard, harder than even I could have expected. I cannot imagine how difficult it has been for the others, for I am used to waiting, used to keeping secrets.

I see the questions in your eyes, the confusion. Who is this woman sitting before you, sipping tea and rambling on so drearily? I am Susan Meiou. You do not recognize the name? I would not expect you to for my name is rarely mentioned outside of the inner circle. Perhaps you would know me by my title: Sailor Pluto.

Oh, I see recognition in your eyes, along with embarrassment and a touch of fear. You need not be embarrassed. I am not like the others Scouts. I have been successful in staying out of the limelight, away from the media. There are no pictures of me plastered in history books or across the TV screen. You could not have known who I am by merely looking upon me. There is no need, either, for the fear I see in you. I can be fearsome and deadly if needs be, but not this night. This night I feel the need to sit here at this table in a roof top café and look upon what my Queen has built. Yes, to look upon the glittering splendor of Crystal Tokyo. To look and to spill my heart to a stranger. For, you see, even one who has seen the ages go by, seen empires rise and fall, needs on occasion to talk to a sympathetic ear.

Why have I chosen you, you wonder. It is because I know you will tell no one of what you learn this warm summer night. No, this is not a threat. It is a simple truth. You will listen, you will ponder, and perhaps one day you will write of this night and fill in future historians’ questions.

May you take notes? Of course, child, you may do as you wish. I merely ask that you listen without speaking. Your turn to talk will come on another day, another night. This night is mine, mine to fill with my words and my silences.

I see this city of crystal and light before me and I remember another city, one built of gleaming marble, one centered on a palace with gently curving towers and onion domes. That city lies in ruins now. Tumbled pillars and dry fountains are all that remain of the Moon Palace. Where laughter and light once reigned, nightmares and empty, brooding silence hold sway. Many have blamed me for the Fall of the Silver Millennium. Their arguments hold some truth beneath their bitter rhetoric. I knew that the end of an age was upon us. I had known that since I first laid hands upon the Garnet Orb as a child. No matter what rumors says I am not all knowing, all seeing. I know some of what is to come; that is true. I can travel through time to see with my physical eyes events that have not yet happened, but the use of such power has great cost. I chose not to use that power. I chose not to look too closely upon the future, for I knew that I would be tempted to intervene. I took my oaths very seriously. As Time Guardress, I was forbidden to attempt to change the path of the wheel of destiny. I knew that war was coming, that death was sharpening his scythe for a great harvest, but I said nothing. I did nothing. I did not warn my fellow Scouts, my High Queen, or even my own family.

War came, born of betrayal and lust. It trampled through the Sol System, destroying all it touched. After Serenity had banished it for time, I looked upon its bloody trail and wept. Athena was gone; only a litter of rocks and dust remained. The Great Spells were failing without the guiding light of the true Star Seeds. The only universe I knew was broken beyond reclamation. And I was trapped at the Gates of Time: my source of power, my home, my prison.

My only comfort was that I was not alone. Charleston was there, by my side as he had promised. Together we gazed upon devastation and made a decision. I took the final step, the only option left to me if I was to fulfill my oath to Queen Serenity. I had no real choice, but I would have released Charleston if he had asked. Once the mystic backlash of Athena’s destruction had faded, he could have gone to Earth, helped the survivors try to build something out of the ashes, but he refused. He would not leave me. For that I am eternally grateful. I do not know what would have become of me had I faced those endless years alone.

We have changed over the millennia; we are different people from that young couple who chose immortality and servitude. We had to change or go mad as years turned into decades, into centuries. I know that I am distant, unreachable, untouchable. My duties allow me nothing else. I have perfected the ability to stand away, to look upon humanity as an outside observer. If I did not armor myself, madness would have taken me long ago. Charles has handled eternity better than I in some ways. He is still human inside as well as without. He has not become ‘other’ as I have and because of that he is more approachable. He may walk through shadow, but the shadow has not yet claimed him. I, I am the emptiness between that which is and that which will be.

That which will be. It is the future that weighs upon me now. It is a cold dark hand pressing upon my shoulder. Some people crave foreknowledge, but they know not what of what they speak. There is no gain, no happiness to be found with in that surety. I know so much, I sense so much of what will be, but the details evade me. And it is the details upon which lives are built and lives are torn down.

And War is the greatest of destroyers, rivaling even Time herself. These crystalline towers are as nothing before his rumbling stride.

I see you doubt me. Who would dare attack Crystal Japan? Who would risk coming against her protectors: the Scouts, the Knights, the Guardians? Trust me on this. They are waiting, watching, plotting from within their wasteland. Hatred and spite and darkness wrapped in a cape has gone to these forgotten ones. He has beguiled them with cunning words and promises of power. Like willing sacrifices, they follow his lead, reaching for the prize but never seeing the knife at their throat. I could almost pity them if I did not know the consequences of their foolishness. And in the end, it is those who would destroy who will be destroyed.

Have I confounded you enough, youngling? Do my twisting riddles chase themselves within your mind like a snake biting its tail? I can offer only this condolence. Watch what is happening around you. Keep your eye upon those around whom history pivots. And one day, you will understand.

Until that day, return here when the mood strikes you. Perhaps you will find a green haired lady sipping her tea and watching the sunset. If you are lucky, she might be willing to answer a few questions.

But don’t hold your breath.