TheAloofBunny is, apparently, not dead. Yay.

So... Basically, I got really, really tired with forcing myself to write humorously, and it probably shows in that last few chapters of Tarnished Gold. Sorry, if you liked it, but I'm sorta...putting it up for adoption (PM me!). :'-(

But yeah, REVIEW ANYWAYS!

*Edit: I rewrote this and changed the ending. For those of you who read my first draft, this is pretty different later on...

**Edit: I rewrote this AGAIN! Sorry...

Prologue

Footsteps clicked against the cracked concrete sidewalk softly, almost unnoticeably. Then again, who was there to notice? There were certainly more pertinent occurrences that night; one only had to look around at the crumbling skyscrapers, the piles of ruined bodies, the flicker of a thousand flames swallowing the left side of the city, to assume that footsteps couldn't possibly be important at a time like this.

Of course, under these circumstances, one was usually wrong.

The man who called himself Nisshoku leaned against a crumbled wall, inhaling the rather invigorating scent of blood lingering in the twilight sky. To the untrained eye, he would have been a picture of casual indifference.

"Show yourself." His voice was a deep, rich timbre edged with a hint of insanity that became only more terrifying when paired with a single amber eye. More footsteps, softer, less rhythmic, come from somewhere off to his right. A flash of pale orange light from the fire below illuminated the new arrival's face: oddly pale, topped by prematurely white hair, an exotic three-pronged birthmark on high cheekbones, thin lips curled in a cheerful grin that barely reached violet eyes.

"Byakuran," the first man murmured respectfully, saluting with a fist over his chest.

The Millefiore boss cocked his head. "Hmm? Another city sympathetic towards the Vongola down? Excellent, Tsunayoshi-kun."

"Don't call me that, Byakuran. Sama."

"Mm. But I want to."

The man who called himself Nisshoku scowled, fists clenching behind the unadorned black gloves he wore. Byakuran smirked at his lieutenant's reaction and popped a large white marshmallow into his mouth.

He chewed contemplatively and swallowed, before remarking, "Let's go back, shall we, Tsunayoshi-kun?" The man who called himself Nisshoku didn't react. He knew better than to. After all, he was reminded every second that his Boss owned him completely, every time he saw Byakuran's ever-triumphant face, every morning when he looked into the mirror and saw not the Tsuna Sawada, Decimo of the Vongola, but Nero Nisshoku, Right Hand of the Primo of the Millefiore.

Ropes of dark orange flame spiraled down from the fingers of his gloves, quickly thickening and strengthening. The man who had once led the Vongola leapt into the night, not even bothering to check if his Master was following.

Tokyo burned below him.

Footsteps slapped against reinforced steel as the man who had once been Storm Guardian of the Vongola Family paced.

"I don't understand, dammit! How the hell did that bastard brainwash the Tenth into this...this monster! Mukuro, you're our mental specialist - tell me how he did it."

The blue-haired man let out a chuckle that seemed more than a little strained. "Kufufufu... Actually, Byakuran may have done nothing involving mental control. All evidence suggests that Tsunayoshi may be cooperating with him of his own free will."

"THE TENTH WOULD NEVER BETRAY US!" Gokudera stopped pacing and slammed his hands onto the map near the former Mist Guardian, glaring at Mukuro, the table, the floor, anything.

Mukuro shrugged, coils of indigo smoke curling around his body. His customary laugh sounded hollow as he left abruptly.

Gokudera growled something unintelligibly under his breath, then raised his voice. "What about you, Baseball Freak? Sasagawa? Even the Stupid Cow?"

"I EXTREMELY DON'T HAVE A CLUE!"

"Lambo-sama knows nothing."

"Nope! Maybe Hibari does, though... He knows everything right?"

At that last suggestion, the Vongola's impromptu leader paused. "That stupid Cloud Bastard? Where the hell is he?"

Silence.

"Che. None of you idiots know? Useless, useless."

"Haha, last I saw him, he was saying something about the vet? Maybe Hibird's sick..." Yamamoto cheerfully volunteered. Gokudera groaned, though even he knew better than to disturb the strongest of them all - especially if he was doing something in relation to his adorable (though he would never admit it) pet.

A quick knock shattered the uncomfortable silence. The sandy-haired head of the External Advisor appeared in the meeting room's door frame, looking years older than it should have.

"Gokudera-dono, there's going to be an attack on the Paris base tomorrow, according to Hibari-dono!"

"You know the drill. Take anything valuable, bring it back here. Che."

"But Gokudera-dono! The message says that Tsuna-dono is going to be there!"

Suddenly, a pregnant silence filled the room, all four former Guardians in the room squirming uncomfortably and looking at each other.

"Prepare the Vongola Jet. I'll be going at once." Gokudera stood up suddenly.

"Me too," added Yamamoto.

"Gahahaha, and me!"

"ADD ME IN, EXTREMELY! I'M GIVING SAWADA AN EXTREME PIECE OF MY MIND!"

"Kufufu, you didn't think you could leave me out of this little party, did you?" added Mukuro's voice from somewhere. "The skylark will want to go as well, I presume."

Gokudera smirked savagely. "We'll get back the Tenth and avenge Reborn-sama. Huh, that Millefiore bastard's gonna be sorry he messed with us!"

An ocean away, Nisshoku smirked exactly the way his dear deceased tutor always had. If Kyoya had delivered the message...

It was all just too perfect.

For those ignorant peons who don't speak Japanese... Nisshoku means Eclipse. Just kidding... I used Google Translate. Does that make me an ignorant peon? Ughh... Forget this part except for the second scentence/phrasethingythingythingy...

That's it for now!

And remember, REVIEW!

=D