AN: Another pre-series thinger. Seems to be the only safe place to write stories until I've seen Rebellion, which I have not yet. I'm a daft moron waiting for it to be released in American first (=GASP!=) because I've grown too lazy to read subs over the years. Sue me. Spoilers is… not something I'd say is on hold. I just got writer's block and I need to get away from it for a bit. This is my solution. No, I haven't read Oriko yet either. Okay, so maybe this era isn't the safest place to write in, but I don't care anymore. Read and review!

Disclaimer: Dear Coobie, please do not sue my ass off. I do not own Meduka Meguca and I never will. I could own a copy of the DVD's, but obviously, that's not the same as owning the intellectual property of the thing. One day, I will have to come up with something just as awesome. Because you have inspired me, you nasty little cabbit. You've inspired me.

A BIT OF IMPERATIVE

A MEDUKA FIC

BY FIZZY 13

PROLOGUE: YOU STOLE MY WITCH!

One, two, three.

Yes, three. This was the third witch this week. Kyoko Sakura smirked to herself as she twirled in the air, amidst a backdrop of psychedelic images, sounds, and colours. One sweep from her spear, and the familiars screaming toward her were destroyed.

Though to most, they would have looked like some kind of badly animated mushroom with exaggerated smiling features, she couldn't care what they looked like anymore, really. If you've seen one, you've seen them all. To this professional, it was all in a day's work, with an excellent reward waiting in the end.

"What, is that all ya got, punk?" The crimson magical girl shouted at the witch sitting at the centre of the lair. Kyoko never could tell whether her taunts actually had any effect. Sometimes they seemed to work and the witch would get aggravated. Other times, they wouldn't even seem to notice what she just said.

She wasn't particularly the deeply thinking type – not that she didn't think, of course – but there was this little idea in the back of her mind that maybe, just maybe, it depended on their personality. Even animals had different personalities, so why not witches? Maybe it was expressed by their lair, all that magical despair, used in what? Decorations, of course!

Kyoko snorted and shooed the thought away as she leapt up onto a twisted fairy tale tree and dispatched the angry looking birds that were perched on its branches. It was a cute and entertaining idea, and it was certainly something she could mull over afterwards, but it wasn't going to get her a grief seed, and now wasn't the time to humanize something she needed to kill.

Not that having a personality made it any more human-like, of course. This was the equivalent of thinking about the personality of an angry bear that was chasing after you. A pointless exercise. Hell, it even sounded like something best discussed over tea and cakes.

Ah, yes. Dumb that blonde might have been, but she definitely made the best cakes. She'd have to at least approach her again. If not to kiss and make up – she snorted at the thought – then at least to get the recipe of that decadent tiramisu. Kyoko continued to systematically close in on the witch, slashing, stabbing, and generally killing whatever happened to get in the way.

There was really nothing special about that witch. It was just a witch like any other, and at the end of the day, regardless of whatever its hypothetical personality was, it was going to end up as nothing more than fuel for Kyoko's soul gem, just another drop of oil onto the clockwork that kept her going. Why exactly did she keep on going? It was hard to say at this point.

Maybe she wanted to prove a point to her long gone father. Maybe she didn't want to end up doing what he did to the family. Or maybe, just maybe, she just wanted to keep living for its own sake. Ideals could come and go, but if the textbooks were to be taken seriously, then the only absolute idea in this life was the survival of the fittest.

In which case one might say that if Kyoko continued to survive, then she was fit to do so, and therefore she had earned the right to continue doing so. It was a simple philosophy, but if it kept her asleep at night, why not? It was certainly a lot better than endlessly tossing and turning in bed, haunted by the question of why. Why did she survive? Why did her dad flip out when he discovered the truth about her? And a host of other pointless questions.

Better to throw away everything else, and keep the principles simple. Even that dumb blonde adhered to it in a way. Right and wrong, good and evil, hope and despair, magical girls and witches. It was a naïve black and white principle, the kind you only saw on the stupid magical girl anime of yesteryear.

And maybe that was the point. Whether following the pitiless indifference of Darwin or the moronic self-sacrifice of Eins Justica, they were simple ideas that even idiots could comprehend. And a lot of magical girls were idiots.

Kyoko found a perfect vantage point, right above that witch's eye – well, the biggest one, at any rate. There might have been a ton of them all over its doll-like form, but the one peeking out from under its skirt was probably the most important, on the simple virtue that it was the biggest.

Casually stabbing the last familiar that stood in the way, she took her stance, poised to strike and finish this fight, one that had gone on for so long that she had already caught herself waxing philosophical about something that she had long ago settled.

"Sorry, kid. Ya been entertaining this whole time and all, but the curtain drops here!" She sprang like a panther pouncing on her prey, spear leading the flying lunge at that gigantic eye. For a brief moment, it seemed like it was over. But maybe she shouldn't have called out to it in such a fashion – amusing habit that might have been.

Because Kyoko suddenly found that same eye staring directly at her with its piercing inhuman gaze, unblinking. In less than a second, all the other eyes were doing the same. Worse, they all burst out of the witch – apparently connected to the main body by snail-like eye stalks – and rushed to crush her under their collective force.

"Crap." Kyoko stabbed the first and most eager eye, using it as a springboard to jump over and outmaneuver the rest. The eye-tipped tentacles continued to swarm in an intricate weave, attempting to close her off. But Kyoko had fought too many witches already. This was nothing new.

A quick slash decapitated half of them, just enough to let her squeeze out through the opening and make another lunge for the main eye. She was unstoppable. No eyes, no tentacles, no crazy smurfed up mushroom familiars were going to keep her from her target.

With a final cry of excitement, she made her move. Stepping over the last tentac-eye, Kyoko jumped the tiny gap that remained between her and the main eye, spear outstretched and ready to thrust into that gelatinous witchy blob. That grief seed was as good as hers.

And then, the chain struck.

One moment she was about to stab that witch in its biggest eye. The next, she was suspended in midair by a thick silver chain. "The hell?" What was this? Kyoko glared at the witch, struggling in her new binds. "So ya still had a trump card! Whoda thought? Well this ain't gonna hold me for long!"

"No, but it will hold you for long enough."

Her head snapped in the direction of the unfamiliar voice. Now had it come from the direction of the witch, Kyoko would have possibly entertained the idea that witches could talk. Maybe. But since it clearly came from behind her, then that obviously wasn't the case.

Out from the shadow of one of the silly giant smurfy mushroom houses walked a girl in sunglasses and a black trench coat. "Heh. Nice costume. What, did Kyubey run out of ideas and turn you into a Matrix reject?"

The girl ignored the quip and stopped a good distance from Kyoko, looking up at the red lancer. "We'll be taking this witch."

Kyoko sneered. "Like hell ya will. I found it first, and I sure as hell won't let some upstart Matrix reject take my hard-earned grief seed!"

The girl reached into one of her coat pockets and retrieved a grief seed, casually tossing it at the space under Kyoko. "It's fresh. No different than if you killed this one."

"Of course there's a difference! I earned this one!" The tentac-eyes chose that moment to attack, understandably prioritizing their original antagonist. Kyoko could, in her bindings, only glare at the approaching doom. "Yeah, thanks for nothing, Matrix."

After all, that allegedly fresh grief seed wasn't going to be doing her any good if she was dead, and of course the fact that she preferred to get the seed she worked for, rather than some easily thrown give-away. In response, the girl – now officially called "Matrix" in Kyoko's book – snapped her fingers and the mass of tentac-eyes vanished in a barrage of fiery explosions.

It wasn't over yet, though. Another wave of doom shrooms had spawned and was heading in their direction. Another snap. "Take them. The witch is mine."

"No, you take them! The witch is mine!" Kyoko continued to wiggle, trying to break free from the blasted silver chain. "Hey! You expect me to fight them while tied up, or what? Hey!"

"Matrix" simply ignored her like she didn't exist, or at least didn't care that she was still tied up and unable to follow her instructions. Instead, she calmly strode up to the witch. What was her deal, anyway? The first gunshots answered Kyoko's question.

Turning to face the fire, she realized that she wasn't even the one being told to take the familiars. About a dozen military-looking types in black armor had somehow stormed onto the scene and were dishing out the pain, gunning down the angry mushrooms like they would any other Viet Cong or Terrorist that happened to be on the business end of their weapons, completely unfazed by the brain-screwy scenery of the lair. Who were these guys?

And "Matrix"? Was now looking up at the witch, muttering something briefly before snapping her fingers. More explosions struck the creature, destroying most of its eyes and leaving it barely alive. With another snap, it was the witch's turn to be assailed by lengths as over a dozen chains strangled it at many key points, including the giant main eye.

It almost looked pitiful as it struggled against its new binds in vain, not unlike the red lancer who hung suspended by a single silver thread… or well, chain. With one last groan, the witch finally collapsed into a heap, still bound by chains as it abruptly disappeared.

Not in the typical way that would spawn a grief seed, though. No, the witch disappeared entirely, along with the chains that bound it. At around this same time, the CoD goons finished up with the familiars, disappearing back into the shadows from whence they came, doing so in a "tactical-looking" way.

"Matrix" began to stroll away from the scene as well, her task apparently accomplished.

"Hey! We're not finished here!"

"We are." "Matrix" continued to walk.

"Hell no! Write this down, "Matrix"! You stole my witch! Your ass is mine!"

The girl stopped in her tracks, as if finally challenged, turning around in a single fluid step to face the chained up red lancer. "You don't know who you're messing with."

"I don't need to know who I'm messing with, because they'll be dead when I'm through with them!" Kyoko's voice reeked of defiant vengeance. Nobody casually ties her up then steals her witch and gets away with it. So what if she got a free grief seed? It was nothing but alms, considering the circumstances in which it was given, nothing that would make up for the frustration of having her prey stolen from underneath her feet.

"We are the Imperative. We will not be stopped. Especially not by someone like you." With that, the girl faced about, dark ponytail flowing behind her as she walked away.

The chain keeping Kyoko in check finally disappeared, and she landed feet first, ready to run. The only thing stopping her from doing so was the fact that the target she had meant to chase had simply vanished, apparently in the brief moment she fell, considering that was the only time her eyes were not on the girl. A low growl escaped her gritted teeth as she grudgingly picked up the grief seed and cleansed her soul gem.

Regardless of what that pompous Marix reject said, they were far from finished. She was going on a different kind of hunt now. It didn't matter who they were, how many, or how puffed up. She was going to get them back for stealing her kill. But for any hunt, a good hunter would first consult the experts on the local wildlife.

The crimson warrior stepped out of the lair and out into the park, coming face to face with that very expert, who was apparently conveniently just waiting for her, enjoying his spare time by licking his paws…

"Kyubey," procuring an apple to munch, she reclined against the railing, "We need to talk."

AN: Teaser, more than anything else. As you can tell, the mood is… not entirely too serious. So don't take it too seriously.

So who are the Imperative? What happened to the witch? What's with all the BDSM? Find out next time! Maybe. Just read and review. Guesses that might potentially spoil the story can be PMed to me instead.