(Notice: I haven't read or played any of the PSP game, so while writing this, I was unaware of the existence of Albertine. Regardless, it's a trivial element.)
"The body of Mitakihara Public Middle School 2nd-year student, Sayaka Miki, who had been missing since the 12th of this month, was discovered today in a room at a downtown hotel…" Madoka Kaname had already grieved, already spent the nights following that fateful incident crying herself to sleep. She should've been prepared for the reports when they finally aired. They shouldn't have sent a chill down her spine and caused a pit in her stomach upon hearing them, yet she still broke down upon hearing the 'news'. Memories began to haunt her, recent and old—her first meeting with Sayaka in grade school, how Sayaka saved her from the witch, even nearly be killed by the witch that had overtaken Sayaka's soul.
Sayaka Miki was dead. Kyouko Sakura likewise was dead as well, though she didn't get a news report or a funeral. It was a depressing situation on all fronts. Madoka recalled how she once asked how many people Homura had seen die. She felt like she was beginning to understand the cold disposition.
The funeral was somber. Somewhere that damn Incubator was probably lamenting the wasted grief that could be turned into energy for the universe. It was the first time in a few days that Madoka had seen Hitomi. Not surprisingly, she was equally racked with guilt. "I wish I had known," she murmured, sitting next to her friend after the service, her voice weak as she tried to hold back her sobs. Before long she covered her face with her hands and began to sob. "I feel like a monster! This is all my fault!" she wailed. Madoka leaned over and hugged her friend tightly, tears in her own eyes. The sobs continued, but gradually began to die down. "I'm so sorry, Sayaka..." was all Hitomi could whimper, beneath her heaving and her gasps for air.
There wasn't much Madoka felt she could do to comfort Hitomi aside from simply understanding on what common ground they had left. They had lost their childhood friend. Homura had told her again and again not to blame herself for what happened, yet, she couldn't bring herself to say the same to Hitomi. Before long, they parted, heading home.
Walpurgisnacht was still coming. Madoka wanted to believe that Homura alone could repel it, yet the following days were weighed down by a mixture of grief and unease. She didn't try to get close to Hitomi again. Hitomi was likewise in pain, yet she didn't understand the true story of Sayaka Miki—at the very least, Madoka felt she could spare her that grief.
As a result, she often would walk home by herself. Each day was the same: head down, steps a depressed shuffle, a frown on her face, thoughts of sadness and unrest polluting her mind. "What's the point…?" she asked herself. "Homura's lying… She won't be able to stop Walpurgisnacht…"
"It's all futile."
She paused in her pace, looking up. Were those her own thoughts?
"Everyone is going to die."
She was standing by an abandoned corner store. Her home was just a ways further down the block. Yet, she didn't want to move. She looked around.
Madoka suddenly dropped her school bag, a look of panic spreading over her face. Sitting right behind the window of the empty store as a grief seed, runes pulsing about it, agitated.
Thinking fast, she reached into her bag, grabbing for her phone. Frantically, she dialed Homura's phone number.
"Hurry, pick up, please…" she pleaded to herself as it rang. Soon there was a click on the other end. "Homura—!"
She was suddenly cut off. The grief seed gave off a vibrant glow as she was suddenly pulled into the labyrinth. When the light faded, Madoka's phone lay cracked on the ground, with its owner no where in sight.
"Madoka?" Homura's voice was on the other end, buzzing through the damaged speaker. "Madoka, what happened? Say something!"
The witch's lair appeared playful. Everything was made of crayon. Its surfaces were drawn and scribbled down, creating a series of structures that seemed to defy perspective. Giant, lettered blocks littered the area, as did some scribbled rubber balls, as planes, likewise made of crayon, flew about overhead. Its pilots were made of scribbles, cackling like young children.
Madoka recognized the familiars—they were the same as the familiar Sayaka had found her first night witch hunting. The escapee must've grown into a full witch by now.
Most of the familiars were ignoring her, keeping to themselves, having pretend dog-fights in the skies. Other familiars scurried along the ground, resembling dolls. Almost innocently, they surrounded Madoka, and began tugging at her arms, pressuring her to meet their master.
"No!" Madoka cried, pulling back. She flailed her arms and kicked, knocking the dolls away, as she began to pull back.
Her resistance was noted as she backed her way against a crayon house drawn on a wall. The familiars all stopped. They stared. She doesn't want to play. She must play. They began advancing on her, the planes buzzing around her head.
She wanted to scream, but her voice escaped her throat. "I'm going to die here…" she murmured to herself, hearing the grinding of wheels.
The witch made her appearance, now fully evolved. It seemed to be sitting in a giant car or truck, the lower half of its body fanning out into a crudely drawn vehicle, as if it were driving. Unlike the plane familiars, it had two arms that came to a dull tip, resembling chalk or crayons—one had a series of vibrant shades coursing through it, the other was pitch black. These were the only parts of it that didn't look like a child's drawing, and even then, each one had a series of poorly drawn fingers protruding from it. The witch's orange face had no eyes, perhaps hidden behind the green bangs on its head. Its wails and cries sounded like a distorted form of children laughing.
The headlights of its vehicle base turned on, illuminating Madoka, restrained by the lesser familiars, as the monster gave off another round of laughter.
The sound of an engine roaring began, as the back wheels began to spin. The monster suddenly released its brakes, charging at Madoka, prepared to run her down. Madoka closed her eyes, ready to face her end.
Suddenly, something caught the witch's axle, causing it to flip over, crashing into the ground inches before Madoka. A flash of silver metal whisked by Madoka's face and limbs, as she saw a series of cutlasses pierce the nearby familiars. Those that missed her spun through the air and came back around, diving at her from the front, narrowly missing her to slay several of the lesser familiars and scare the rest away.
Madoka blinked, stunned. She recognized those swords. "S-Sayaka…?"
Someone landed before her, taking her hand. Blue hair, white cape, a hairpin of a fortessimo in her bangs. "Come on," she commanded, grabbing Madoka's arm before leaping away from the recovering witch.
"Sayaka, you should be dead!" Madoka cried out. Sayaka landed a safe distance away from the witch, setting her friend down.
"Where's Kyouko?" she immediately demanded. Madoka blinked, confused. "She saved my life. Where is she?"
"Sayaka, look out!" Madoka shouted. Sayaka spun around to see a toy block flying at her, thrown by the witch. She drew her sword and cleaved the block in two, crashing it on either side of her and Madoka.
"What happened to Kyouko, Madoka!?" Sayaka yelled. There was a level of anger in her voice that startled her friend.
"S-she… She's dead." Was that the right thing to say? Sayaka's expression immediately shifted, changing from anger to disbelief. She suddenly looked very weak.
The witch was back up. Its goofy smile was replaced by a gaping, angry maw, and its wails were now furious, rather than manic. It prepared to charge at Sayaka once more.
Sayaka stood her ground as best she could. "Get back…" she muttered. Madoka ran as far back as she could. She could see a tear streak down Sayaka's face. Her knees shook, yet she kept her sword raised, ready to defend against the witch.
The witch collided with her. Her guard remained only for a moment, causing nothing but a brief hesitation in the witch's advance, as she was soon lifted off her feet by the charge and plowed into the nearest wall.