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No matter how soothing his tone was, Zinkenite was right: whatever reasoning of his she might have listened to or believed was out of the question now that she knew he and the youma were on the same side.

"I don't care," she snapped, her body shaking with rage. "I don't care about some stupid Moon Princess, and I don't care about space! You say those youma were people? You don't want to see more of them? Then you should fight them too, and stop them from hurting people instead of defending their reasons!"

He's lying, Euanthe decided. He'd say anything to make her believe what he was doing was right, that he was somehow justified in trying to chase the Senshi away. He's on their side. God, how could he? "And I sure as hell don't need 'Senshi school' to tell me that you're wrong. As long as you'll stand by and let youma hurt people, you're an enemy. And I'll fight even-" another human being? But- She strengthened her resolve, her voice falling low and quiet. "I'll fight you, if I have to."

A strangled, frustrated little cry pushed forth from her lips, and it was all Euanthe could do to keep from straight up yelling at him that he just wasn't goddamn listening- But it was too late for talking, clearly. If she insisted on saving people - the ones who were actually people - then he insisted that she was a killer. And damn it, she wasn't going to stand for that.

Except that she didn't make a move, though her body had tensed into some kind of mockery of a fighting position. After all that talk she was finally trying to figure out how best to approach him and in doing so had paid attention to that energy a bit more. She'd been so focused on how different it was, how unknown, that Euanthe hadn't paid any attention to its force and power. For the first time in their conversation she realized that she was really, desperately outranked and well and truly screwed. But like hell was she going to back down and run with her tail between her legs after all that she'd told him.

"I'm not going to kill you, I wouldn't even try," she spat, and it was the truth. Honestly, Euanthe wasn't sure what she was really going to try and accomplish in a fight. Rough 'em up for some intimidation? She'd never even pretended to punch someone before. She wasn't sure she even knew how. "But your words have already shown you to be a hypocrite and a liar."

That was satisfying, even if it just meant that she knew he would be willing to kill her. Which... no, it was not satisfying at all, actually. If she wanted to live through this then she would have to think. Warily she eyed those strange crystals. She had no idea what they could do to her, she wasn't sure her attack would even work on him, and up on her balcony Euanthe only hoped she was out of their range.

Honestly, Euanthe wished she could tell him they'd told her anything. The anger he had roused in her was also being turned unjustly toward ********* and Iris. They had been there for her awakening, ********* had obviously awakened many Senshi, and Iris was Eternal... they had known about this. About people like Zinkenite. 'Is there anything else I should know?' Her own words were a distant echo but she knew she'd asked. They'd said nothing.

She was pretty damn sure this qualified as 'something she should know.'

And the teleporting. The teleporting as terrifying. He was vanishing and reappearing like a magician and she was the alien? There a moment, gone the next. Then beside her, closer than she ever wanted him to be. Her heart jumped painfully and she swung one arm at him, desperate and scared. It might have started out as a rather shoddy punch, but even if he hadn't vanished a second later the worst he would have received was some kind of half-slap. Euanthe stumbled into the empty space he left behind, not even noticing the crystals until he mentioned them himself. It was too late already.

She backed away from them, already beginning to cough, the railing of the little balcony biting into her back. If Zinkenite was a teacher then Euanthe was learning a painful lesson.

To be honest, she wasn't even really listening at that point. Something about ruling and attacking... mostly she was just thinking about how she couldn't see for s**t. God, it stung so badly, and she could hardly hear herself thinking over the sound of her own coughs. She wanted to run blindly out of it, into clear air where she could actually breathe. But in spite of her desperation to break free of the gas some part of herself still had the sense to remember that she was on a fire escape. Running blindly would mean falling off and dying.

Groping ahead of herself, eyes squeezed shut, her hands searched the air for the railing. If she could just find it she'd know how close she was to the edge... instead she found one of the rungs on the ladder leading up to the next level of the fire escape. Slowly, her feet kicking in the empty air in front of her before they finally found the bottom rung of the ladder, she tried to climb her way out of the gas. Euanthe only managed to get herself halfway up the ladder before another fit of coughing seized her and she was forced to stop, arms wrapped tightly around the cold metal.

'You need a hand down there?' Euanthe heard between coughs. She was sure the cat was playing with its food now. "Very-" a cough "-funny."

"Don't," she barely squeaked out, her voice a hoarse whisper. Sure, it was a non-lethal attack. But for silly, tragically untested Euanthe it was nearly torture. Any more of that horrid smoke and she really would start to retch. Her eyes, shut tightly as they were, burned all the same. Euanthe clung miserably to the ladder, her body shook just as when she'd thrown her convictions at him with strong, unyielding words... though it was shivering fear that held her now, not anger.

So, she thought bitterly, you told him you would fight him. This is your glorious battle. You deserve this. Euanthe was more than scared, she was humiliated. All that talk... only to be reduced to a cowering wreck by smoke bombs. She ought to scream at him, to hold fast to her pride and tell him off. Linnea would have. Linnea was some kind of silly stubborn pitbull when it came to an argument. But Linnea got into arguments about stupid things, the most hurtful things she ever endured were petty insults. Nobody had ever lobbed tear gas at Linnea over something she'd said.

Say something snarky, said the Linnea part of her. You don't need to see to talk. You're being pathetic.

"Don't," Euanthe pleaded softly.

For a while Euanthe just held on tight, breathing (as best she could), considering. She held onto his words, better to think about them than the horrible burning in her throat. He understood, and that was strange. It was strange because she expected, after what he said, for him to not care or to throw on his own blinders and just continue to be cruel. Suddenly she wanted to ask him a thousand more questions. Would that her throat hadn't felt so dry and cracked.

Blinders... He was right, she knew, but she hated to think about it that way. If she was going to participate in this bloody game then she'd need to ignore the catch 22s and barrel on ahead, despite who got hurt. Zinkenite put on blinders too, she decided, when he defended the youma. She supposed that the catch 22 he decided to ignore were the civilian casualties at the hands - or claws, rather - of monsters, a bitter price that had to be paid to make the senshi leave.

He told her to keep going up. Slowly she eased open her sore, inflamed eyes. They turned on him high above her, red and tearing and uncertain. Does it have to be this way? There's no way to win, and there's no justice in a grey war. 'Keep climbing.' She brought up one hesitant hand and wrapped her fingers around the next wrung of the ladder, just letting go of the bar was the hardest part. But he told her to keep going, so she climbed the rest of the way up.

Euanthe stood, her feet on the last step of the ladder, and stared at the waiting hand just a short ways above her. An arm's reach in front of her. She reached out her own hand, her fingers hovering indecisively over his.

"I don't... want to hurt anyone," she admitted with averted eyes, her voice raspy, "even though I said I'd fight. I don't think I can follow through, not against a person. I was tossed into this with no preparation, and I don't know anything. And I do want to learn more. If the Prince is really that bad, if the Princess is really the cause of these things then I don't want to help them... but I cannot take the side of monsters, whatever or whoever they once were, when that means more innocent people will get hurt."

Her brown eyes looked up into his unreadable face, trying to penetrate the impenetrable, to decipher the impossible puzzle of his expression. She wondered if he would kick her down the ladder for her answer. "I'm sorry," she continued, "I'm sorry, because you're no monster, so we shouldn't have to stand on opposite sides like this. It's so stupidly complicated and I can't-" she took in a sharp breath and shut her eyes tightly - they'd started to burn again - but when she opened them again she closed her hand into a fist and drew it back in the same moment. Euanthe helped herself up the rest of the ladder and stood in front of him.

"Please understand," she pleaded. She hoped with all her being that he would. Some small part of her liked Zinkenite (though she really didn't appreciate the smoke bombs). He'd taught her a lesson and he'd given her a choice. For that, Euanthe was grateful.

"I promise," she said quietly. "I will never take someone from you. No matter what happens or who I become, I will never kill."

Though knowing that Zinkenite wasn't going to shove her off the building filled Euanthe with relief, her words were solemn and heavy with the weight of her vow. That much Euanthe could be sure - she was here to save lives, not to take them. No matter who asked her to, or who she was confronting, she would not. Negaverse or senshi or civilian. This promise she made to not only the blue haired general but also herself.

The release of tension she felt at his words of praise - teasing though they were - somehow washed all the strength out of her as well. She looked at him wearily now, her hands folded into one another in front of her. Her breathing was still ragged from the assault of the tear gas and she longed to fall into her bed at home, back to where she was just Linnea, safe and removed from all this madness. When he bowed she did the same, an exhausted but sincere motion without the same grand flourish of a hand across her chest. "Pegasus. I'll remember," she murmured.

"Zinkenite," Euanthe said, "thank you."