Disclaimer: I don't own Warhammer 40k or Puella Magi Madoka Magica


The thrum of focused energy filled the air as hundreds upon hundreds of boots pounded against the hardened ground. Men and women of the Imperium, their eyes focused with a fervent energy, set about repairing the damage that had been inflicted across the scope of the sprawling Hive. Far on the other side of the city, those that had wrought the destruction in the first place were making preparations of a very different kind.

The greenskins had been ruined. Well over ninety percent of their ground troops had been obliterated in the purifying flame of the Ascendant, and those in the stars above had been mercilessly torn apart by the reinforcing fleet. What ragged few remained of the once mighty Ork WAAAAGH huddled in bombed out buildings for shelter, stranded and hopelessly outgunned by the planet's defenders. Morale was all but nonexistent, and even the most vicious and bloodthirsty of the green beasts could recognize that they'd been well and truly beaten.

But for one Ork in particular, the crushing defeat brought with it something far, far, more important.

He understood now. After chasing her across the galaxy, following the prophecy of his mad assistant, Mag'den TufSkraga finally understood the nature of his prey in a manner that only an Ork could truly hope to comprehend. He'd felt her true self. He'd been near the epicenter of her grand transformation. He'd witnessed with his beady, savage, eyes, the dual-persona of her impossible nature. Salvation through destruction. Destruction in the name of salvation. She was everything he'd hoped she would be, and so much more.

He had not been alone in the experience, but he'd been the only one to escape unscathed. His Weirdboy, Zurdad, had undergone an explosive backlash as his unshielded mind had taken the full brunt of Madoka's transformation. Said mind was now plastered halfway across the planet's surface, courtesy of his skull having erupted in a massive blast of Warp energy.

But not even the death of his guide could foil the Warboss' good mood. He grinned as he strode through the pitiful remnants of his army. He grinned as his own boyz shrank back from the sight of him, worried that the boss had "well an' truly lozt iz brain bitz".

None of that mattered anymore. He'd felt the conflict that was waiting for them. The incredible, endless struggle. The true and ultimate fight. In his primordial soul, he'd felt the way reality had quaked in the birth-throes of the monster Kriemhild. The way everything, mortal, immortal, and all things in between, had been touched for just a brief moment, by a power that threatened to swallow them all. This girl was no mere child, but a sleeping behemoth, encased in a prison of flesh and waiting for the one to set her free.

And when she woke, her cries would shatter the heavens, and bring the Gods themselves to their knees. The spiky gitz that called for endless blood. The panzy Gods what broke into a whole bunch of pieces. The runty Empra' on his shiny chair. Even the mighty Green Gods, Gork and Mork, would be dragged into a conflict unlike any other.

And he, Mag'den, would be at the center of it all. The Big WAAAAGH! A battle to end all battles. A war that would rewrite reality itself.

With such a glorious prospect, how could he feel anything but ferocious anticipation?

His metal claw snapped shut, cleaving through the walls of an Imperial building as the rush of energy flowed through him. His blood sang. His heart raced. countless souls had died for this, Ork and human alike, but that was nothing at all in his eyes. Once he got his hands on the girl, the apocalypse could begin in earnest.

With a wordless cry of ecstatic fury, Mag'den gave the order to move out.


Madoka held her arms out straight, doing her best to keep her breathing even as straps were tightened around her body. By request of Mami Tomoe, Lord Inquisitor Octavian had seen to it that his personal operatives had found a proper suit of armor to give her for the coming confrontation. Where they'd managed to acquire something in her size on such short notice she could only guess, but the feeling of flack armor plating sliding against her chest brought with it both a sense of security as well as a lingering unease.

She took a deep breath, sucking in her midsection as the front and rear sections were fastened around her waist. The design wasn't quite what the Cadians or Mami's escorts had worn, but Octavian's men had assured her that it would hold together as well as any guardsman's body gear.

Admittedly, that promise only brought with it a mild reassurance. She'd seen first-hand how little protection those kits offered against some of the things they were up against.

Even so, long overdue or not, there was a level of wonder in her mind as she felt the odd sensation of armored plates sliding against her clothing. It was almost like a reward for her silent oath. Here. The world seemed to say. Take this, and go forth into battle like the others. This is your chance to prove yourself.

"How does that feel?" Mami asked, watching over her fitting. "Try moving around. Make sure you shift your joints in all directions, and note if it catches or pinches in any area. Protection is important, but limiting your ability to move can be just as fatal as going without in some cases."

Madoka did, twisting and turning her limbs experimentally, shifting her torso back and forth, and rotating her hands and feet in small circles until she was satisfied.

"It's nice!" She remarked, honestly happy. After what she'd experienced so far of Imperial technology, she'd expected something clunky and confining, much like the transports she'd been made to endure, but the body gear made for a surprisingly smooth fit. With one final piece, a helmet was fitted over her head, the straps tucked under her chin to hold it in place so that it could be tested for final fitting.

Mami gave her own nod of approval which caused the one taking her measurements, a tiny bespectacled woman of advanced age, to smile and murmur in gratitude for the compliment, bowing several times before scurrying away with her final tally. The pause gave Madoka a chance to take a breathe, and look her reflection over in the mirror.

She almost didn't recognize herself. She didn't see the bright-eyed youth smiling back at her through a messy morning's bout of bedhead. Neither did she see the studious daughter, inspired by her mother's charisma and tempered by her father's patience. What she saw was… something else.

Her posture didn't carry the confidence or defiant air of supremacy that the Imperials and the Eldar had, but there was a steel in it she knew hadn't been there originally. Her face was thinner, time and trail having burned away much of the baby fat that had given her such rounded features. Her eyes, though still carrying the soul of the child she was meant to be, were no longer so small and helpless.

She wasn't a soldier. That didn't feel like the right word, but neither was she a civilian anymore. She still felt the same fear she'd known, but it was held at arm's length by her determination. She was someone who was prepared to fight, both for her friends and for herself. She was someone who would oppose the darkness for the sake of the light.

For the first time since she'd made that tragic mistake of a wish, she felt like a true Puella Magi.

A hand slipped onto her shoulder, and she looked up to find Mami standing next to her. They made a peculiar pair. One standing tall, looking ahead with an even, calculated, gaze and wreathed in armor black as night. The other, still working to find herself in a battle garment that carried all the markings and decoration of the rank and file.

Something about it sent a thrill of nervous anticipation through her system.

"It suits you." The Inquisitor told her, which was something she knew her own Mami would likely never have said. "If there's no problems or issues with the size, deposit your items in the basket by the door before we leave. It's important that you learn how to fit the pieces together, so do what you can on your own. If you have serious trouble, the assistant will be available to help, but I would prefer you try to manage by yourself."

"I think I'll be okay." Madoka replied, mentally going over all the steps that they'd taken in her head. There weren't all that many, but the unfamiliar routine still demanded her attention.

"That's what I like to hear." Mami said with a smile, giving her a pat on the shoulder before turning towards the door. "When you're finished, come find me. I want to organize a meeting."

"Another one?" Madoka asked. "Didn't we already go over the plan?"

"Not a meeting for battle strategy." The Inquisitor answered with a shake of her head. "A meeting of just the four of us. With battle looming, I want to take this chance to connect with each other at least once more before we deploy."


By the time Madoka had put away her armor and tracked down the others, Mami, Sayaka, and Kyoko had already organized themselves in the same room where the Inquisitor had shared her story of warning. Whatever scribe owned the room, assuming they had made it through the battle, likely wouldn't appreciate the reorganization of their abode, but it made for the perfect gathering place.

Four chairs had been pulled up around a small wooden table, the books and papers that had once rested on top of it having been placed neatly to the side of the room. Kyoko and Sayaka sat together, the former wearing a bored expression while the latter had her face hidden behind her newly repaired mask. Mami was positioned across from them, cradling a cup of tea in her lap and looking up expectantly as Madoka strode in the doorway.

"And there she is!" Sayaka chimed happily, sitting up straighter as the pink haired girl entered. "Only twenty minutes. You owe me a drink!"

Kyoko merely rolled her eyes, grumbling something under her breath before gesturing towards the remaining seat.

"C'mon then, don't stand there all day." She said, nodding in Madoka's direction. "Get over 'ere. We've been waiting on the full house."

The younger girl couldn't help but feel a bubbling sense of warmth at the meeting. She was immensely grateful that Mami had the foresight to get them together, regardless of whether it was for her sake or not. That said…

Madoka's hand drifted lightly to the Soul Gem resting at her throat as she made her way to the offered chair. Despite what the others might think, they weren't all gathered. Homura wasn't here. Even so, Madoka knew that her friend was still watching out for her in her own distant way, working in the background against impossible odds for her sake. Someday soon, she vowed to have another face to face meeting with the Time Magi and tell her just how much she meant to her, but for the moment, her spiritual support would have to do.

There was also her alternate self. Madoka didn't know what had become of her body double, or even what to make of her. Was she an enemy under the allegiance of Inquisitor Heidric, or just an unfortunate soul caught in a web of intrigue beyond her control? Somehow, it didn't feel right to dismiss her. In some cosmic way, they could almost be considered sisters after all.

Setting those thoughts aside, she took her seat with a smile, determined to embrace this moment of peace before it was carried away by the tides of war. No matter how small, simply being able to see her friends together held a feeling she cherished more than any gift or award.

"Thank you." Madoka said as she took her seat, meaning it with all her heart.

Mami simply smiled, understanding the meaning behind her words was more than just gratitude for saving her a spot.

"So then." Sayaka started once everyone was in their place. "What order of business do we have prepared for today, madam Inquisitor? A grand speech? Some secretive exchange of knowledge? Maybe a board game or two?"

"I think I've had my fill of speeches for the moment, thank you." Mami replied, shaking her head. "Your kind may be skilled in the art of wordplay, but I've found that most of my encouraging words tend to be rehashed versions of what has been said numerous times in the past."

"Ain't that the truth." Kyoko chuckled. "Once you stop listenin' to all their preachy high-strung nonsense, you can see pretty clear that most big speakers are just telling you all the same stuff over and over again."

"But there's an art to it!" Sayaka insisted, leaning over the table. "It's not the words that matter, but the message behind them, and how you get that across to the people listening. No two individuals will see it in the exact same way, so convincing them in large numbers is a masterful skill in its own right!"

"True enough, but that's not why we're here." Mami replied, taking it upon herself to steer them back on track. "We've had enough of those things already. Right now, I wanted all of us to simply have a moment to share with one another. The idea was not mine alone."

She gave a meaningful nod to Madoka, who blushed lightly in embarrassment.

"I thought it would be a good idea since we might not get much chances to talk during the fight…" She offered bashfully.

"Careful there." Sayaka warned, pointing a finger across the table. "Don't you know anything about dramatic narrative? What you're doing right now is called raising death flags. Everyone has to be careful about what they say now, because any dramatic statement or promise will exponentially raise the chance that we all die horribly. It's a proven fact of nature."

Kyoko just rolled her eyes, falling back into her chair as Mami hid her amused grin behind her teacup.

"I see that the wisdom of the Eldar race rings true." The Inquisitor remarked, taking a sip. "But I don't believe we'll need to worry about that at the moment. So long as we don't get carried away into something like a promise to be married 'after the battle has finished' our tenacity should help balance out the rest."

"Will you both can it with that crap?" Kyoko interrupted, glaring accusing at them. "The more you bring it up, the worse it sounds."

"Just trying to lighten the mood is all. Really now." Sayaka remarked. "With how gloomy things have gotten, you'd think the battle was taking place in a morgue. Well… maybe that's a bad example given how battles tend to go, but you get the point."

Madoka leaned down on the table lightly, feeling a kind of anxious tightness in her chest. She could tell. They all could. Despite their best efforts to act casual, there was a hint of worry in the air. Kyoko's subtle tension, manifesting in a tapping foot and limited eye contact. Sayaka's overly emphasized boisterousness, putting more energy than necessary into her brand of humor. Mami's detached distance, putting up her usual wall of control despite the friendly nature of their meeting.

In their own ways, they were each nervous about the way the battle would go, and Madoka was no exception. If anything, she was probably the most concerned, even after her recent spike in resolve.

But that was why she'd wanted this in the first place. To be reminded of their humanity, metaphorically speaking given present company, before being thrust back into the open battlefield. In a paradoxical sense, the lingering doubts they all held actually helped to calm the fears that were present in the back of her mind.

Her smile didn't appear suddenly on her face. It grew, slowly but steadily, as they spoke back and forth about small things, jokes and jests, or nothing at all. It kept growing as she saw the banter exchanged between Sayaka and Kyoko, the two seemingly having formed some sort of unspoken bond after the assault. Though there was a hint of sadness at the thought of their incomplete arrangement, it still grew at the memory of Homura's oath, and her assurance that she would be watching over throughout the course of the event.

After some time, her smile grew large enough to take notice, and Mami turned in her direction.

"Something you want to share with us, Madoka?" She asked, causing Sayaka and Kyoko to pause their debate over the merits of tact versus fire power.

"Mmm mm." The younger girl muttered, still smiling. "It's a secret. One that I want to keep to myself."

"The feck's that supposed to mean?" Kyoko questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"It means she's learning how to be an Inquisitor." Sayaka replied, stepping in. "First comes secret keeping, then the torture of problem individuals, and finally the extermination of planets you don't like anymore. Right?"

"You're missing a few steps in the process…" Mami said, giving her a dry look. "But I should warn against trying to keep secrets from members of the Ordos. We are somewhat notorious for our… curiosity."

Madoka simply giggled lightly into her hands, shaking her head.

"I can't say it." She explained. "If I say it, then it won't come true, and this is something I want to protect no matter what."

The Inquisitor nodded at the remark, her expression softening into a gentle smile as she said "In that case, I suppose it can be forgiven this time. For right now, everyone should simply take what time they can to savor the moment. Action will come for us soon enough, so let's resolve to enjoy the calm before the storm."

"Aye to that!" Sayaka agreed heartily, raising an invisible glass. "To the moment and the future it leads towards!"

A round of voices came as answer, before the four of them settled back into their seats and found comfort in the familiar feeling of one another's presence.

For Madoka, it was more than she could have asked for.


The Techpriests had done their jobs well. It was a fact that, somehow, only made Kyoko's irritation deepen as she meticulously went over the work they'd done to patch up Ophelia's battle damage.

She wasn't back up to full strength. Given the horrid state she'd been left in, and the fact that they were strapped for time, there was no chance of returning to full fighting strength, but she was far better off than the Knight Pilot would have thought possible. All major gashes and wounds were welded over, her rocket pods had been reloaded, and her gatling arm had been reattached for the most part and stocked with enough ammunition to ruin a small army's day. The work wasn't pretty or painted up, and she was mildly concerned about the state of the severed limb's stability, but Kyoko was grudgingly forced to admit that Uzzaiel and his men had done a damned good job of it.

Not that she would ever say that to his tin-plated face. If he'd been there watching over her shoulder, she'd probably have been cussing up a storm over minor imperfections just to ensure he remembered where the two of them stood.

The crunching of feet on pavement momentarily distracted her from surveying her war machine.

"If that's you Daedy, you owe me money." She called back over her shoulder. "Last I checked, I killed a hell of a lot more than you did in the last battle."

"Is it really fair to compare the killing power of a single Kasrkin with that of a Knight Warden?"

Kyoko turned in mild surprise to find that the figure drawing up to her was not the Cadian soldier, but Sayaka Miki. The Harlequin was looking over Ophelia's scars with open interest, and though Kyoko highly doubted she knew the intricacies that went into machine repair, she seemed to drink in the details all the same.

"The feck are you doin' here?" The Freeblade questioned when she approached. "I thought you an' your Troupe were getting ready to hunt the last of the Ork bastards."

"We are." Sayaka replied, choosing to keep her eyes focused on the towering Knight as one of her feet tapped against the ground in a soft patter. "As soon as the Rangers report back with their scouting information, we're to move out and slay the Warboss before he can threaten the battle plan. I thought I'd stop by first though."

Kyoko grunted, not particularly liking the somewhat solemn tone that was taking shape. She'd gotten enough sappy unspoken exchanges in their earlier meeting, and she wasn't much one for throwing those notions around at will.

"Yeah well, I hope you enjoy your little hunting party." She said offhandedly. "While you're at it, Ophelia and I will be watching over the little pinky and her bodyguards. You'd better make sure to show up when the action starts, or she might start crying or some shit. You know how that kid is."

"She's stronger than she looks." Sayaka replied quietly. Kyoko had no real answer for that. All evidence she'd personally seen pointed to the contrary, or so she chose to believe, but there was no denying that the girl had some serious tenacity. "But I'll be there. You'll have to work harder than that to keep me out of this fight."

The two lapsed into a comfortable silence after that, simply standing in each other's presence. It was an odd feeling for Kyoko. She was used to loudmouthed, boisterous company. The kind who did lots of fighting and very little thinking. Those were the people she knew, and she rarely had patience for any other kind. Even then, she never truly relaxed unless she was in the cockpit. The last time she'd really felt at ease around someone was back when…

"You know, you never explained where her name came from." Sayaka remarked, causing her to give a small start in surprise.

"What're you talking about?" Kyoko replied.

"Ophelia. Her name." The Harlequin explained, gazing up at the pipes which fed her burning crown. "I remember you saying a while back that you weren't the one who named her, but you never mentioned who did. Is there a secret behind giving a Knight its name that your family practiced, or was it a present from someone else?"

There was a pause, and the Freeblade's eyes took on a distant air. The strangely still posture she adopted left Sayaka with the impression that she'd stumbled upon a difficult question, but before she could think up a casual way to dismiss her own inquiry, Kyoko spoke.

"My ma named her." She said quietly. Her voice had become lower, lacking the aggressive edge it normally held. The Eldar girl didn't dare interrupt. "Back before I was born, it was hers. Then she died a little while after my sis was born, and Ophelia sat in her own little corner of nowhere, collectin' dust."

There was something small, almost approaching a wistful smile, crossing her face.

"Momo. That was my sister's name. She was gonna be the one to inherit Ophelia. See, I didn't have the patience or the temperament to pilot a Warden. I was supposed to have a Gallant. Those were the kind of hot-blooded close range fighters that I fit in with. Wardens, they're meant to be strategic minded. As a Gallant pilot, all I was supposed to worry about was making the enemy's big guns dead before they shot at me, and chopping up whatever slags were still left standing afterwards.

"But that wasn't what happened. My dad… wasn't the best at what he did. Wasn't his fault really. House Sakura was never a really big House, and when mom kicked it, he was left to manage pretty much everything on his own. Wasn't good for his mental health. He started drinking a lot after that. I saw a long while back that the pressure ate away at him, so I tried to do what I could to help him."

She stopped to collect herself, looking to Sayaka with a pale and humorless grin.

"Won't bore ya with the details. We'd be here all day if I did. Long story short, I heard some bloke was offering his support to us. Turns out, he was a Techpriest serving a rival House who got it in his head that the relics of House Sakura were too good for us or somethin' like that. And I, being the dumbass kid that I was, thought it'd be a good idea to take him and his pals up on his offer.

"Several days later, almost all our stuff is missing. Our wealth is gone, our House is in shambles, and my dad just kinda… breaks. S'my fault, but I don't think he was even thinking at that point. He starts heading towards his Knight with this dark fire in his eyes, screaming that he was going to kill them all for this. Everyone. Momo tries to stop him, cryin' an all that as she clings to his leg begging him not to do it, cuz she was a smart kid an she knew what would happen if he got into a rampage.

"He shot her. Plain and simple. He was that far gone. Pulled his pistol out of its holster and put a bullet in her head like she was some rabid dog and not his own flesh and blood. I lost it after that. Can't rightly say how it went down, but there was a lot of screaming, a lot of pain, and by the end of it, he was dead and I was left standing in the middle of a pile of nothing. I didn't know shit about managing a household, and there wasn't anything to pay any of the servants or workers with after that mess anyway. It's cowardly, but I turned tail and ran.

"I tried taking Momo with me at first. Got it in my head that maybe someone might be able to save her. I'd heard that some people made it through after getting shot in the head. That didn't last long. I mighta been pretty out of it at that point, but I wasn't blind. I could tell the difference between a live person an a dead one. I was sick to my stomach with guilt, knowing all the while that I'd caused this, but all I could offer her was a shoddy burial with a hand-dug grave.

"You're probably asking what this has to do with the Knight, ain't ya? Why I'm talking about this at all? Well, like I said, Momo was supposed to inherit our mom's Knight when she got big enough. I was going to leave Ophelia here at first, but it felt wrong. Like I'd be abandoning my sister's future or something. I'm not good at putting this kinda thing into words, but I didn't want to leave her behind, because that would be like leaving her behind. So instead, I took Ophelia myself, bullied my way into the first ship that would take me off-world, and went from there. I don't really know why. Maybe I saw it as a way of keeping Momo's memory alive, or apologizing for robbing her of a future because I was too stupid to prevent this from happening. Whatever it was, I ended up with Ophelia, and lived from one battle to the next. Before long, I found my way to the Imperial Guard, who were more than willing to take on a Knight, and ended up serving alongside the Cadians."

She paused, taking a breath as the information sunk in.

"As for why I'm telling you, I guess because I thought you might be worth telling. I dunno what's gonna happen in the war, but… well, I'd feel better if you knew. You don't have to look too closely at it or anything like that. Anyway… since you asked and all, just thought I'd share."

Sayaka was at a loss. To be tongue tied when trying to create some witty response was one thing, but in this instance, she genuinely didn't know what to say. Didn't know if there was anything she could say. To apologize would have been empty, and to offer her sympathies would likely cheapen the meaning behind the moment. So, instead, she responded in the only way she could think to.

"Thank you." She said, gripping her hands together in front of herself. "For sharing that. I know it's probably not worth much to say this, but I lost my family as well. My mother and father were killed fighting the forces of Chaos on a far off world as part of a Guardian force while I was a child. Even after they were returned to the Infinity Circuit, I wasn't permitted to see them. To force the dead into wakefulness for something as trivial as saying goodbye would have been cruel, they said…"

She trailed off, choosing to emulate Kyoko by looking up at the Knight Titan rather than at the one she spoke with. It was an odd feeling the two of them shared, neither truly grief nor acceptance. Both had borne scars in their own ways, yet sharing them had created a sort of mixed awkwardness in the air rather than shaping the unspoken bond that Sayaka had heard tales of.

That was when Kyoko started laughing.

A small, self-depreciating noise bubbled up from the Pilot's chest, giving way to a fit of chuckling as she shook her head in exasperation.

"The galaxy fecking sucks, don't it?" She asked, sounding far more tired, and several years older than she normally did. "An' we got off pretty light from what I've heard of others out there. Lemme ask you something. Do you really think she can make a difference in all of it?"

There was no need for her to specify who she referred to.

"Yes." Sayaka responded with conviction. "Madoka can make a difference. I don't know what form that difference might take, or how potent it will be, but I know for certain that she's capable of forming a miracle."

Kyoko grinned at her, though not in the sardonic humoring manner she'd been expecting.

"Oh yeah?" She questioned, her voice taking on a more competitive edge as though to seek further proof of her faith. "Well, if a bunch of pissed off Orks can make a pile of scrap into a fecking battle tank just by believing hard enough, maybe your ideas will make a difference after all."

Sayaka could feel a smile tugging at her lips as she took the opportunity to push for a question she'd been wondering at for a while now.

"Say then, Freeblade." She began. "In the event we don't get torn apart in an apocalypse level catastrophe in the coming days, do you think you might-"

"Ease up." Kyoko interrupted, giving her a stern look. "You were the one giving little miss pinky flack for raising death flags, weren't you? Don't go startin' on em yourself."

The Eldar girl blinked, paused, and then laughed quietly to herself, nodding along with her companion's assessment.

"Good call." She said, a touch of lightness entering her tone. "It would be tempting fate, and given the ones who weave such things, it may be best left for another time. So then, how about this? At an indeterminate point in the future, the two of us may or may not reconvene to discuss matters of small, middling, or great importance should the mood so strike us. How does that sound?"

"Stupidly pompous and needlessly wordy." Kyoko responded. "So yea. Fits right in with you lot."

Sayaka merely giggled under her breath, falling back into the verbal sparring that she'd grown so used to. She'd neither particularly loved nor loathed humanity prior to setting out on her journey, but with the company she kept nowadays, she was starting to grow a greater appreciation for them.

If nothing else, they made certain that the days were always entertaining.


Far away, hidden in the darkened back streets and winding corridors all but forgotten by even the oldest inhabitants of the city, a single figure could be seen peering out across the industrial horizon. Her raven-black hair practically melded in with the darkness, giving the illusion that she herself was part of the looming shadows stretched high across the marbled pathways.

She was not alone for long.

Tiny pittering steps echoed across the otherwise silent street as a streak of pure white trotted along in total defiance of the blackened atmosphere. It's fur shone with unnatural radiance in the lightless cavern, seeming to exude an aura of shimmering energy around itself as it tapped its way across the ground.

The creature drew close to the shrouded figure, tracing the line of her vision high above to the open sky.

"Such a peaceful sight." Kyubey remarked, idly swishing his tail back and forth behind him. "A pity it won't last."

The girl slowly turned her gaze downwards, giving him a look of detached curiosity.

"Did I hear that right?" Homura questioned. "For a moment, it sounded as if you were lamenting change. Surely that can't be correct."

The albino feline creature merely gave her a sidelong glance that carried all the playful feeling of a tiger on the hunt.

"My dear, just because I welcome a shift in paradigm doesn't mean I can't appreciate the moment." He commented offhandedly. "There is a certain tragic beauty in peace. A fleeting moment that can never last, and yet, so many cling to it with every fiber of their being."

She chose not to pursue the topic any further, returning her eyes to the sky as she waited for him to reveal the reason he'd come.

"Beleth has withdrawn into his own thoughts." Kyubey said, licking his paw. "He seems rather perturbed by the fact that the battle has taken such an… unforeseen turn. With the loss of the ship and so many soldiers, our position has become far less stable. It may not be long before he begins to question whether some other force may be tampering with his visions."

"I understand." Homura replied simply.

"And what of your plans, dare I ask? You seemed so confident about them a short while ago, and yet, you've been so quiet recently. I hope you're not feeling doubts after coming this far."

"I am not." She stated. "I am simply taking it in. I have not lived for centuries like your other puppets. The feeling of a decades-long idea coming together is not one I'm intimately familiar with, and I must ensure that everything goes according to plan."

Kyubey gave a sound which might have been amusement had he been anything resembling human, rolling over onto his back to observe the skyline from another perspective.

"Ah, but is that not why I'm here?" He questioned, flicking his gaze to the back of her head. "Surely you should know that you can trust me to see this brought to fruition, yes?"

"I know you too well to trust you."

The impassive grin that was fixed to his features seemed to shift ever so slightly, resembling something closer to a smirk.

"A wise outlook." He commended, returning to his feet and turning back towards the way he'd come. "Oh, and be sure that you don't spend too long playing with your new toy now. It would be dangerous to expose yourself to such a thing any more than what is needed…"

She didn't reply, simply cradling the weight of a jet-black jewel in her palm and rubbing her thumb across the almost solidified miasma of darkness that lurked beneath its surface. Seeing no response was coming, Kyubey turned his back with a flick of his tail and departed.

Once again, Homura was left alone in the lightless avenue.