Homura Akemi, or rather Akuma Homura, sashayed down the hall of the nearly empty middle school. She wasn't quite sure why, but she had a feeling evil people did not simply walk. As the self-proclaimed devil of this universe, it was up to her to maintain standards.
Sunlight poured in through the windows, but she could feel no warmth. That didn't bother the group of friends sitting outside though. Laughter floated up to her as her eyes focused on a girl with pink hair pulled up in pigtails. A crimson ribbon bound each pigtail and waved merrily in the breeze as if beckoning to Homura. The girl looked up and locked eyes with Homura. A smile lit up her face as she waved at her, gesturing to the group of friends surrounding her, inviting Homura to join her.
Homura forced a smile on her lips as she shook her head and backed away from the window. Madoka was with her friends, her real friends. Homura would only be intruding if she went down. It wouldn't be right. As she pulled back from the window, a flash of gold around Madoka's eyes made Homura gasp. She pushed forward again, hands on the window pane. Not yet, she thought, You can't remember, not yet! But as she watched Madoka turn to the blue-haired Sayaka Miki, her eyes remained their normal gentle pink. Breathing a sigh of relief, Homura pushed away from the window again and closed her eyes.
Wind blew around her and when she opened her eyes again, she found she had moved to a field above Mitakihara. Looking down, she could see the shops and businesses lit up for the night like an endless field of stars before her. Homura frowned as she turned around. She had not meant to come here. Her hands clenched as she stalked down the field towards where it ended in a sheer drop. Could she do nothing right? Even with all the power in the universe, she couldn't manage a simple spatial jump?
Something juicy and squishy slapped her cheek. She could feel it dripping down the side of her face and falling onto her chest. Looking down she saw chunks of tomato spattering her clothes, glowing a vivid red in the twilight. ″No more than I deserve,″ she whispered as she came to the edge of the drop. Shoes littered the area in front of her, and she found herself kicking off her own.
Homura leaned over the edge of the drop looking down. It was a pitch black seemingly endless drop. Homura knew how nonsensical this was. She was looking down over the city but she wasn't that high up. She should easily be able to see the bottom. But she didn't want to see the bottom and so she didn't. If only she could cast herself into the void and just let it all stop... But who would protect Madoka then?
More tomatoes began to pelt her as she stood, unmoving, gazing into the abyss. She could hear laughter now and she caught glimpses of black and white dancing around her. Her Clara Dolls, the familiars she had had as a Witch. She had kept them. She needed them to remind her of how unworthy she was, even when she had finally achieved her desire to protect Madoka.
At first it was just a couple, but soon more and more poured into the field, forming a ring around her. They joined hands and danced around her, laughing and pointing. The rotten tomatoes continued to fall on her and she fell to her knees and let them pelt her. Perhaps it is time she thought. If I can't even control where I teleport how can I hope to control this world? So useless. The Dolls parted before her as she moved towards the cliff again.
″I think that's enough,″ a gentle voice called behind her.
Homura froze as did the Dolls. Slowly she stood back up and turned to face the voice. Her eyes momentarily teared as she found a gold-eyed Madoka standing behind her, smiling gently at Homura. She braced her shoulders and threw her head back. Homura knew it would come to this one day. Madoka was far too strong, far too giving, to allow herself to live in the world Homura created for her. But she would fight, she would fight the person she loved most in the world, to keep her here though. Madoka had sacrificed everything for the people she loved. Could Homura do no less?
″So, it is time then?″ Homura asked. She felt her eyes widening and growing black. Wings sprouted from her back, black and spindly as her middle-schooler uniform morphed into a black backless dress. Again, she wasn't sure why she took this form, but from what she understood evil people wore a lot of black and were very seductive. Since Homura was The Premiere Evil of this universe it felt appropriate. She smiled as she hooded her eyes. ″Don't expect me to go easy on you.″
To her surprise Madoka laughed. It wasn't a mocking laugh. She sounded genuinely amused, as if Homura had just told a funny joke. ″Homura, why don't you stop being evil for a second and come talk with me?″ She sat down in the grass and patted the spot next to her.
Homura froze again. Was this a trick? Was Madoka trying to get her to let her guard down? As Homura gazed into Madoka's eyes, she found something she wasn't expecting. Love. The same love Madoka had shown the first time they met and she had taken pity on a shy transfer student. The same love when she had gone to her doom against Walpurgisnacht. The same love she had shown when she transformed herself into Hope itself to save magical girls from the their doom as Witches.
The same love she had shown when she had come to save Homura from the Incubators and Homura had literally ripped her apart from her goddess form and trapped her here...
Homura began to breathe more quickly. It was a trick. It wasn't possible for Madoka to love her after that. She had betrayed her and hurt her and there was nothing Homura could ever do to make up for it. Homura's Clara Dolls crowded in on her, shouting and hitting and punching her, edging her ever closer to the cliff behind her.
″I believe I said that was enough,″ Madoka said again, lifting her head and gazing at the Clara Dolls. She didn't raise her voice, but there was hint of steel behind it. The Clara Dolls stopped, and then wavered, literally. Homura watched as they faded from the field around them, as if they had never been there.
Homura fell to her knees and stared at the ground beneath her blankly. Madoka had just dismissed her familiars with no problem, even though Homura had wanted them to stay. She hadn't even had to try! Homura felt herself began to shake. ″You never really forgot, did you?″ she said quietly. ″You were never trapped here.″
″No,″ she heard Madoka say.
Still shaking, fear and despair and a wild hope ripping through her in alternate waves, she looked up and met Madoka's gaze again. ″Why?″ she asked. ″Why did you pretend?″
Madoka cocked her head, as if considering Homura. Then she looked up at the sky. Back behind the stars, barely discernible, the otherworldly light of Homura's Witch Barrier surrounding the universe danced in the night sky like a perpetual aurora borealis. ″Did you know why I didn't bring Sayaka back to life?″ she asked, still looking up.
Homura gaped at her. What did Sayaka Miki have to do with anything? ″No,″ she said.
Madoka smiled as she continued to look up. ″It was because no matter what timeline I looked in, Sayaka always died when she made her wish to heal Kyosuke. And if she was given the opportunity to make that wish, she always made it.″ Her gaze turned back to Homura and Homura felt like a deer in a hunter's headlights, unable to look away. ″It was Sayaka's choice. If I were to take that choice away it would be untrue to who Sayaka was. I wouldn't be giving Sayaka what she wanted. I would be giving her what I wanted.″
Homura nodded then, understanding. ″Just like me,″ she whispered, looking down again. As if she needed another reminder of how much better than her Madoka was. She squeezed her eyes shut. Couldn't Madoka just finish this? If she could dismiss Homura's familiars so handily, surely there was nothing stopping her from breaking Homura's barriers.
Homura heard the sound of rustling grass and then a soft touch at her cheek. She opened her eyes again as Madoka slowly cupped Homura's face in her hands. ″Silly, Homura,″ she said as she leaned her head against Homura's. ″You have been selfish, but I didn't come here to punish you. I let you make your barrier because I realized I made a mistake.″
Homura began to cry in earnest. ″What mistake? You made everything turn out perfectly.″ She found herself grasping at Madoka as she began to sob. ″You saved all those girls, and you gave the Incubators what they needed.″
″But I forgot something,″ Madoka said, stroking her hair. ″I forgot all about your wish. I forgot to honor it, your wish to protect me. Even with the new system in affect, your time powers from the old held over and you remembered me and remembered your wish. It drove you to a point of despair and joy where I couldn't help you. You despaired because you couldn't see me and you were overjoyed at the prospect of seeing me when I came to save you, keeping you perfectly balanced on the edge.″ Madoka sighed. ″I had put you in a living Hell and I couldn't see a way out.″ Madoka suddenly grew very still. ″Except for one.″
Homura looked up at Madoka, horror growing within her. ″You helped the Incubators trap me?″ she asked, all her strength leaving her.
Madoka nodded. ″In a way. After you accidentally gave them the idea, I pretended their field made it so I couldn't see inside it.″
Homura's insides froze. ″But why?″ she asked quietly. Even as the thought of Madoka working even tangentially with the Incubators made her quail inside, her confidence that it was all her own fault anyway washed over her.
″I needed a situation where you thought you would never see me again. Only then would your truly despair and only then could I rescue you,″ Madoka said. Regret dripped off her voice as Madoka looked away from Homura. ″But again, I forgot all about you and what you wanted. Your wish. And when you grabbed my hands I felt the power of it whipping through you, coiled like a snake ready to strike. Even if I were to take you, to be with me and the others forever, the memory of your wish would follow, a constant reminder of despair of failure.″ She looked at Homura again and hugged her. ″So I had to find another way. I let you make your barriers and I observed. If I wanted to really save you, I had to understand you better.″
Homura sighed and pulled away from Madoka. ″Then there is no saving me,″ she said, curling into a ball and turning away. ″If you save me, it means I have failed to protect you, yet again.″ She let out a shuddering breath. ″So just make it stop,″ she whispered.
″No,″ Madoka said. ″Because I think I know what you need now. Your love, while beautiful, is too narrow. Right now, you don't know me any better than I knew you at first. I think you need to live again and start over with us from the beginning.″
Homura bolted up at that, hand grasping for a shield that was not on her arm. ″No!″ she said backing away. ″You can't make me do that again! I can't stand to lose you like that again! Over and over.″ She held her head in her hands as she remembered the seemingly endless cycle of the month she had lived trying to save Madoka. She remembered the countless deaths with Madoka's form still and lifeless before her. Even worse, she remembered the cycles where Madoka didn't die, but where she succumbed to despair, each cycle worse than the last, each wicked Witch becoming larger and more unstoppable.
Madoka lay down on the grass and propped herself up on one elbow. Her school uniform began to glow and fade, beige skirt and shirt seeming to melt around her into a long white dress. The dress of the goddess. It extended far longer than Madoka's actual body and seemed to whip in a wind that only it could feel. ″I would never do that to you again, Homura,″ she said. Her voice was steady and there was no hint of whimsy in it. ″I want to send you to a timeline where the Incubators never contacted us. No magic and no Witches.″
Homura abruptly sat down. ″No magic, no witches,″she said softly. Her eyes narrowed. ″And no Incubators.″ Her gaze flashed to a white ball of fluff that lay on the ground about twenty feet behind Madoka. It looked like just a random bit of fur at first, unless you looked more closely. Just barely, you could make out the movement of breathing. The fur was ruffled and matted and it waved gently in the breeze. She bit her lip. ″But my wish...″
″I'm in the timeline I want to send you to,″ Madoka said. ″You can become my friend, and protect me if you feel you have too.″ She smiled, widely. ″But become friends with my friends too. And other people you don't even know. There are so many people worth knowing Homura. I have come to know and appreciate so many I never would have looked at before. Could you try? For me?″
Homura ran a hand through the grass, considering. ″But it wouldn't be my Madoka. It wouldn't be you.″
Madoka cocked her head. ″Just like the other ninety-nine Madokas weren't me?″ she asked.
Homura's brow furrowed and she frowned looking up at Madoka. ″What do you mean?″
″Homura, every time you looped back, you created a new timeline. You looped one hundred times. That's a hundred different time lines, with a hundred different mes, and a hundred different Sayaka's, and a hundred different Mami's...″ She waved her hands up a the skies. ″As countless as the stars you could say.″
″I- you mean, you aren't the first Madoka,″ she stammered, looking aghast.
Madoka laughed and hugged Homura again. ″For someone who's powers involve time travel, you don't seem to understand it very well.″ She shook her head. ″No, I am not the first. The first still died in her timeline to save everyone from Walpurgisnacht.″
″I-uh,″ Homura said, swaying on her feet. How many Madoka's had she condemned to death? To witchood?
As if reading her thoughts, Madoka gave her a little shake. ″Yes I did die many times,″ she said quietly, ″but I am technically the goddess of Magical Girls in all the timelines you created. Your time traveling led all their fate lines to me. So, no, I didn't stay dead in all of them after I rebooted the universe,″ she said, with a small laugh. ″And I definitely didn't stay as a Witch in any of them. Though I have to say, saving yourself from despair is a very odd experience.″
Homura steadied her breathing. ″Okay,″ she said as Madoka patted her back. She closed her eyes as she teetered on the edge of a decision. ″Would I have magic?″ she asked, not sure how she felt about losing her powers. Or keeping them for that matter.
″I don't know,″ Madoka said as she shrugged. ″What we are about to do, if you say yes, it hasn't been done before as far as I know. You may keep your powers, you may not, or they may just become inactive in a timeline where no magical magic exists.″
Homura looked up at her barrier in the sky. ″Alright,″ she said after a long moment. ″Let's try. One more cycle. The last cycle.″ She locked eyes with Madoka, her back straightening again, the air around her shimmering as she pulled her power to herself. ″But if this doesn't work, magic or no magic, I will find a way to come for you again. I will protect you,″ and her voice lowered, ″whether you want it or not.″
″I know,″ Madoka said quietly. The shadows behind Madoka danced for a moment, and Homura swore she saw something in them them. Something darker than the shadows, with red slits that resembled eyes. She blinked and it was gone. Homura shook her head and looked away from the shadows and back to Madoka.
″So, where to?″ she asked.
Madoka began to glow. ″To the beginning,″ she said. ″Your normal start point as you just leave the hospital. I'll make sure you heart and eyes are okay so you won't have to worry about them, whether you have magic or not.″
Homura nodded once. ″Do it.″
The glow around Madoka expanded and flooded over Homura. She closed her eyes as she felt herself moving away, as if drifting out to sea. She allowed herself to sink into a dream, knowing that when she awoke her final chance at redemption would begin.
Madoka stood alone in the field except for the ball of barely moving fur. But only for a moment. ″A hundred Madokas and a hundred Sayaka's, but only one Homura. I see you failed to mention that,″ a voice said behind her.
Madoka turned. Behind her stood what could have been a mirror reflection of herself save for one thing, a black band around her arm. A mourning band. Her reflection sniffled and wiped away a tear. ″You said we would go away if you could steer her off her current path.″
″I said I thought you might,″ Madoka said, her eyes now worried.
″Well obviously that didn't happen,″ a much harsher voice said. Madoka turned and saw another reflection of herself, this time with a dress spattered in blood that was always fresh and covered in wounds that were always flowing. ″This is a mistake. She can never learn.″
″We never gave her the chance,″ the arm-banded Madoka wailed, wiping away tears.
″It doesn't matter,″ a quiet voice said from behind the three. The three Madokas turned to see an entirely gray-scaled Madoka lying in the grass and staring at the sky. ″We were all doomed once the Incubators became involved with humanity. There were always going to suck us dry.″
The main Madoka opened her mouth to counter when the shadows around her seemed to blend and meld together. Rising high into the air, a vaguely humanoid figure with red flashing eyes floated above them, black tendrils waving out around her at odd angles. The figure seemed to fade into and out of existence, and, more disturbingly, the area around her began to do so as well, as if reality itself could not support this being. It hissed at the four Madokas below it, low and sibilant. Most of what it was saying was unclear, but one word rang like a chorus through the hisses. Destroy.
The blood spattered reflection and the arm-banded one backed away from the being while the gray-scaled one didn't even blink. The main Madoka looked up, for once angry. ″No,″ she said, ″I am the Prime. You are a Potential. I will decide how to proceed. You need to leave now before you hurt this reality any further.″
The black figure bent over, as if laughing. Slowly it slinked down from the sky and melted into the field, slipping away. As it did, unnoticed by the other Madokas, one lone tendril gently pulled over the white ball of fur. A head looked up and a red eye moved ever so slightly, following the path of the tendril. And then it was gone.
The Prime Madoka turned to her three Potentials. ″She didn't force a fight. Not yet. There is still hope.″
″I thought that once too,″ the blood-spattered Potential muttered. ″You'll see.″
″What about the Incubators?″ the arm-banded Potential said with a sniffle.
Prime Madoka looked to the ball of fluff. ″They will be freed once I break the barrier here. Whether they can recover I don't know. They aren't magical girls, so they don't fall under my main provenance.″
″And you don't care even if they do,″ the blood-spattered Madoka said knowingly, throwing a glare at the Incubator in the grass.
Madoka frowned at her but said nothing. ″I think the rest of you should go now too. Things are going to be a little hectic while I put this timeline back in order.″
The arm-banded Madoka disappeared with a final sniffle and the gray-scaled one melted into the grass. The blood-spattered one fixed Prime Madoka with a fierce stare. ″We'll leave for now, but we'll be back in some form later. You know we will.″ She shuddered. ″And you better hope for everyone's sake that shadowy one isn't the final one left.″
Madoka was silent as the Potential faded into the night leaving her alone on the hill with only an Incubator for company as she re-ordered the cosmos.