Author's Note: This is the first fanfic I have ever submitted but I'm not new to writing so please be honest and don't use the kid gloves OK? ^-^ This story hit me at 1AM one night and it just simply won't let go of me, so I'll probably be making weekly or bi-weekly additions. Hope you like it and feel free to make suggestions!

Background: Just as there must be both light and darkness, night and day, Metallia truly can never be fully destroyed. She lies dorman, whispering her dark thoughts until someone listens and opens the pathway. What if, far in the future, the Shitennou and even Beryl were out of reach, and Metallia found an unlikely ear in someone unexpected? In a rebellious uprising to declare independence from the Moon kingdom and its vestiges on earth, a great weaponwas designed to obliterate the Moon, and eliminate not only her dominating light, but also even its pull on the tides. it is set in the far future after a rebel group managed to gain control of the Earth and built a weapon to destroy the Moon and break the chain between Earth and the Moon forever but with harsh consequences. But is it really forever? With Endymion and the Shittenou reborn in this semi-apocalyptic world, hope may lie within a young blonde girl's heart. Can they return things to the way they should have been? Read and find out.

Mini spoiler - Expect some interesting guests to show up, including certain members of the Black Moon Clan and maybe even Professor Tomoe! ^-^

Chapter 1 - Part 1 - Nephrite

The stars were misty tonight, shrouded in the drifting dust cloud that sometimes followed the moon about the sky like the tail of a comet. But the moon made a strange looking comet drifting dead across the night sky with a jagged hole through its center. Nathaniel always felt a bit unsettled when the sky was clouded like this. He liked to see the stars, their small lights crossing the darkness like beacons. The desert always seemed less vacant and lonely when there were stars out, ever since he was a boy. He laughed softly out loud, remembering how his father had given him his Native name, roughly translated as "boy who chases stars". He remembered protesting as a boy, saying he wanted something strong and powerful like "running buffalo" or something, and his father had laughed and tousled his hair. Those had been good days and reminiscing brought a small smile to his lips.

His boots crunched on the dry barren ground, echoing into the silent distance as he made the rounds, checking on the small homemade chicken coop, the vegetable garden, and Polaris. The brown mare who snorted lazily at him when he poked his head into the stall. Coyotes sometimes got brave enough to try to take a chicken or two and rodents targeted the garden, so Nate made nightly rounds around his small property. True, it wasn't much but it was enough to live off of and trade some more besides for things he needed, and it was his father's home. And it was more than a day's travel away from New Detroit City. The lights of the hulking city did not dim the stars out here, and its iron fisted rules did not reach the deserted wasteland this far out. He liked it just that way.

Reaching the water basin he checked the level of his remaining water and grimaced, cursing under his breath. It was barely enough for him to use, much less to provide for the chickens and the horse. Lately it seemed that the water rations were becoming smaller and smaller. Soon Nate could imagine making the long trek to the city only to return with a thimbleful to last him a month. Perhaps it was an exaggeration, but he wondered silently just how small the rations could get in time. It was coming to a crisis he thought, and people's lives were in the balance.

With a sigh he glanced up at the broken, dustclouded moon once more before turning in to his cabin. His father had told him at one time the moon was whole and round, and made the water tides move in the oceans, but it was before his time. The idea of the small white moon moving the oceans was a strange one, but somehow, his father said, the balance had been interrupted and all of nature went out of whack. That at least was certainly true, he thought as he kicked off his boots and retired for the night with his thoughts.

Chapter 1 - Part 2 - Kunzite

Kiral pushed the curtains aside to peer out of the window. Over the streetlights the moon was peeking over the tallest rooftops. It reminded him of just how late it was, and just how much more work he had to do. Sighing he grabbed for his pen again and forced tired eyes to once again scan the columns of transaction entries. He could just hear his father's voice in his head and anger made his grip on the pen tighten. "You'll have to do better than that if you're going to take over the business and bring honor to the Naziri family name. I won't allow it to be shamed by half-assed shoddy work!"

Nothing seemed to satisfy the man, even though his grades under the private tutors his father hired were top notch. There was always something to find fault in, some little oversight or mistake. Though he almost never lost his temper, and tried to bear it patiently, sometimes it just made Kiral want to scream. "Maybe I don't want to take over the family business. Did you ever think of that father?", he whispered aloud but immediately felt a wave of remorse.

It wasn't so much that he didn't want to keep up the family name and flourishing trade business. It was just that sometimes, he felt that there was something else out there for him, something that called to him, but remained as elusive as mist on the mountains. Next summer he would be 18, and then Kiral would have to decide. The minutes clicked past like death knells and he was no closer to an answer.

The sound of rustling sheets made Kiral turn to the second bed in the room. Matai was having one of his weird dreams again, his brow dotted with sweat as he tossed and turned. When Matai was little Kiral remembered him having nightmares about his parents, who died in the earthquake that took out most of Los Angeles. Kiral's father and mother had been on a business trip out there and had surprised him with his new refugee brother on their return. He was only a boy of two then and Kiral only five. His mother had called him Matai, which means "gift from God" because she had been trying to have another son and had been unable to. And so they had grown up as brothers in this very room all these years.

The nightmares had stopped after a year or two, but after all this time weird dreams started to plague Matai again. It was a mystery to him but sometimes Matai would mumble nonsense in his sleep. He wondered what the dream was about. It didn't seem to be about his parents this time. As if on cue, Nami, Kiral's mother poked her head in, her hair wrapped carefully as always under her burka. Even half asleep she managed to look put-together, and she always had a kind smile for all the scowls his father could dole out.

"Another nightmare?", she asked him, her soft tones hushed as she crossed the room. Reaching out a hand she smoothed the sweat from Matai's brow as she whispered, "May Allah bring you sweet dreams Matai." As his tossing seemed to calm somewhat. Her raven eyes looked up at Kiral then. "Still studying Kiral? It is late. Surely you'll have a clearer head for it in the morning.", she said as she stood and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Go to sleep Kiral. Tomorrow is another day." Silently she swept out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Chapter 1 - Part 3 - Jadeite

The broken moon also shined its dim light over the Chinatown section of New Detroit City. It was a slum comprised of ramshackle homemade dwellings nearly stacked on top of each other, separated by tiny winding alleyways across which Asian lanterns were strung. New Detroit City, being one of the few surviving metropolises in the entire world, was by necessity a melting pot of nations. But it didn't always melt smoothly.

In the center of the bustling village stood the Chinatown water reserve where all the rations for that district were held to be doled out. It was this very cistern that was the source of a heated argument out in the moonlit alley. Jian Je, or Jay, as his Americanized friends called him, stood with his hands on his hips, trying to look tall enough for more than his twelve years. "Uncle Xian, please let me stand guard tonight. You should rest. I can do it! Trust me!" Worry and sincerity beamed from his earnest eyes, as silly as he looked in the too-big guardsman's jacket and hat that tipped down over his eyes every few seconds. Jian's uncle was one of the guards whose rotating job it was to watch over the water reserves which were often a target for thieves. But he had been ill recently and it was bad luck that his shift came up just as the elderly man was starting to get well again.

Xian Zheng smiled his aged face lighting up with amusement though he made a monumental effort not to laugh, as it would only hurt Jian's feelings. He stopped down and took the hat from Jian's head and placed it on his own, the other hand resting on the young man's shoulders. He had raised Jian Je since his father had been killed trying to intervene in a gang war between the Red Sash and the Bones gangs. And so far, the boy hadn't been affected by the immorality and violence these gangs seemed to pump into Chinatown. He was proud of that. Jian might turn out OK after all. "I am sure you could with all that enthusiasm," he said kindly to the boy, "But I'm feeling fine and it is my job. What would they say if I didn't show up to my post huh? But I tell you what. Why don't you come with me and we can guard it together tonight. I think you're old enough. How about it?" If it were even possible, young Jian's face lit up even more as the pair set out together.

In the shadowy alleys leading to the cistern, a completely different pair was approaching, with water skins on their backs, and guns at hand. In their eyes were hunger and malice, and tonight they would get what they wanted for once. Keeping watch from the shadows edge they surveyed the guards that they would face, and nearly laughed to see an old man and a young boy. Assured of an easy take they moved in one from each side.

"Hold it old man.", said one of the thugs emerging from the alley with a knife in his hand. "Just step aside and let us get some water. You're no match for me.", he said as his partner crept quietly around the other side. Xian's eyes quickly became serious as he shoved Jian behind him. He made a darting move and grabbed for the man's wrist, twisting the arm with the blade behind him in a tight hold. "Jian, go call the guards. Hurry!", he said.

"But uncle…", he stammered out, unwilling to leave his uncle, even though it looked like he had the situation in hand. "Go!", came the stern command and Jian took off running only to be grabbed from behind by a second man and thrown to the ground. "You're not going anywhere boy." said a second man with a sneer. The man approached the cistern and began to open the hatch. "No!", Jian yelled, pushing up from the ground and running at the man full speed despite yelled warnings from his uncle. "We have to share that water. I'm not letting you steal it! He launched himself at the man's legs, the man's roaring laughter making Jian's anger boil. Everyone always said he was too young, too small to be of help but he would show them. Jian launched punch after punch at the man's face and stomach but all he did was laugh and shove him away at arm's length, towering over the boy with arms bulging muscle. "You know, I'm getting tired of this.", the man said as he withdrew something metallic from his belt. There was a brief flash of light and smoke, and Jian watched in horror as his uncle slipped to the ground, and the other man, now freed, began to approach.

A primal cry escaped Jian's lips, tears making it hard to see as he leapt for the silver gun, trying to wrench it out of the man's hands. Something struck his head hard, making dots dance across his vision as he suddenly went limp and he found himself falling down next to his uncle. The last thing he remembered seeing before he passed out was blood staining the jacket of his uncle's uniform. When he came to, face down in the dust with dried tears staining his face, it was a different Jian that stared up at the lifeless moon. He walked quietly down the streets like a wraith in the moonlight. Everyone knew where the Red Sash kept their hangout but no one in their right mind went there on purpose. As Jian's feet crossed the threshold, many faces looked up at the young boy with lost eyes as he whispered only one thing. "Teach me how to fight."

Chapter 1 - Part 4 - Zoisite - (I borrwed a bit from PGSM here. ^^)

Zachary Brennan stood on the fourth floor balcony of the crumbling apartment building, the warm stale night air blowing stray hair from his ponytail into his eyes. He had always liked the view from high up places, but this view offered nothing spectacular. It was just the same crumbling gray buildings, under-grown trees, and cement as far as the eye could see. The night was quiet. There was barely as much as a cricket call in the muggy air. It was an uneasy stillness.

The quiet was broken by the sound of a door slamming open behind him and Zachary's eyebrow rose in irritation at the sudden interruption from his thoughts. He turned and came in from the balcony to see Connor and Pete rushing in the door with all of the enthusiasm a few drinks will put into a man.

"Oi Zach you bugger, are we goin' or not?", Connor asked, dumping a knapsack onto an empty chair before putting his dirty boot onto another one to fix his laces, leaving a boot print on the fabric that nearly made Zach twitch. But he'd long since gotten used to the pair and their habits by now. He, Connor, and Pete had grown up in Dublin before the evacuation to the refugee camp on Salisbury Plains. Tired of the meager living there and itching with hot young blood to see more of the world, the three had taken off for America a few years ago eventually coming to New Detroit City. New Detroit City wasn't what they had originally thought it to be, but it was far more interesting than where they had come from.

"Yeah, I'm coming." Zach answered, hastily throwing a few things into a knapsack of his own. Tonight they were going scavenging again, delving into remnants of the city below; into remnants of old Detroit to find things of value that could be sold. Last week they had found a working manual typewriter that some professor had bought for a pretty sum. It was sometimes dangerous but usually worth it in the end.

Throwing in some rope and two flashlights he zipped up the bag and the three boys from Dublin crept down the stairs into the night. In order to make it into the underbelly ruins of the city on which New Detroit was built, you had to first get by the droid guards. The three boys crouched silently which Zachary watched their movements with eager eyes, searching for the pattern in their patrol paths. After a few moments, a smirk crept up one side of his face. Tonight would be easy. "There see. We go on one…two….three!" Zach had always been somewhat wiry, and not the strongest of the three but what he may have lacked in brawn and boisterousness, he made up for in times like this. His eyes lit up with mischievous glee as they made it to safety at the tunnel entrance just as the next guard passed by.

With the stairs long gone, it was necessary to descend the first few stories into the underground by rope. The darkness seemed to wrap around them as the climbed down. The silence and the seeming weight of ages weighing heavily in the air. They landed with a crunch on dusty marble floors. A sign reading "Sunri_e M_ll" with letters missing flickered weakly overhead. The floor tilted at a sickly angle towards a crumbling wall. Beneath the rotting Mall was something called a "subway station", where fast electric trains used to zip people from neighborhood to neighborhood. He'd seen it in a book, and on the map of the mall, but they had never gone far enough down to see it.

"All right, where are ya off to then?", Connor asked as the three began to split up and forage. During the Detroit fire, everyone left everything as it was, so the mostly undamaged parts of the mall were a smorgasbord for scavengers, mostly young kids living alone and trying to make a living to care for themselves.

Pete had an eager look in his face as he held up a sketch he had made of the mall map once. "I've been studying this map. There's a jewelry store just under the gap. I'm gonna go for it. The gap was a break in the floor, an open hole leading don several stories that seemed to get larger and larger as the floor crumbled away into it. It was probably the most unstable place in the mall.

"No Pete, you eejit! That area's a desperate mess. Hang the jewelry. Let's go this way!", Zach tried to call out to Pete, but he was soon gone over the edge, one end of his rope lashed around a supporting post. His feet were already running towards Pete's location before he even thought about it. Before he reached the edge there came the sound of rumbling and a crash of broken glass followed by a frightened yell and more crashing sounds followed by silence.

Both boys held their breath as Zach threw Connor the other end of his rope to fasten, which he did with trembling fingers. Both knew Zach was faster at climbing down, and the natural choice to get to Pete first, though both feared the worst. "Pete!", he called out, his voice echoing through the gap. His hands shook slightly as he slid down the rope until he could see the jewelry store and the hole Pete had fallen into beneath that level. Landing on the jewelry room floor he jumped down into the jagged hole and was met with a muffled "Oof, man, get off of me!" Scrambling off of the oddly soft surface he had landed on he adjusted his head lamp to see a somewhat stunned Pete sprawled on a couch. It was an unbelievable save made from crazy luck. "Pete you bugger, you had us scared half to death!", he said, crossing his arms over his chest. And then his eyes adjusted and Zachary saw for the first time the room they had fallen into. Velvet drapes covered one wall in front of which a fully intact piano stood on a mahogany carpet. All around were display cases and shelves with various instruments and reams of sheet music. It was the fanciest room he had ever seen, even covered with a layer of dust.

"Hey Connor, Pete's alright. But you're going to want to come down here!", he called up, cupping his mouth in his hands for more volume. When all three had their lights aimed on the room they could only utter a simultaneous "ohhh" as they slowly explored the room running their hands upon the instruments, some strange and some familiar. It was Connor who came up with the idea. "Hey Zach, why don't you play us something from home? I haven't heard a good old Irish tune since I was a kid.", he said, barely realizing that he was still quite a few years from the title of adult himself at age 14.

His father had been a piano tuner and repairman back when people actually cared about whether their piano was in tune. Or rather had had been an out of work repairman for some time. But he had taught his son to play and to know the inside and out of every ivory and black key. "No, I couldn't. I haven't played in years." He stammered out, taking a step away from the piano. He couldn't take his gaze off of it though, and at the urging of his friends soon found himself smoothing the dust off of the cushioned bench.

He touched the keys hesitatingly at first, almost afraid memories of home and family far away would overwhelm him. But at the first few notes of Paddy's Jig, the laughter of his friends was contagious as they jumped around behind him to the merry tune. From there he played Spancil Hill, and then Danny Boy which was a song close to the heart of every Irishman, and the three became still, all lost in thinking of home. He fell into the music, hardly thinking anymore about where he was placing his hands and what notes he was playing. It all seemed to start to flow from one tune to the next.

Somewhere in the middle of Spancil Hill, Zachary suddenly found himself in a different place, filled with bright sun and thick green grass where he sat with a book in hand. A young boy with raven black hair came running toward him. "Will you practice with me? Kunzite's too busy.", he said with a pout, holding some sort of wooden sword in his hands. And then suddenly the scene faded into something else entirely. "No! We're too late!", a pained voice called out as a flash of bright light lit up the room making him completely blind for a moment. The light flare soared into the sky and straight for what looked like the moon, only it was whole and round. There was another bright blinding flash and the moon seemed to just disintegrate. And then he was there, standing protectively over someone important as he felt something pierce his body and the scene became blurry, and then seemed to pop like a balloon, leaving him suddenly back in the music room. His fingers missed a note, struggling to find his place again with his mind in such a jumble.

When he was young sometimes he would imagine things when working on his piano lessons, but it was only a young boy's flight of fancy and an overactive imagination. Surely this was more of the same. Just a figment of thought brought on my thoughts of home and familiar things. It certainly wasn't real….was it?