Les Fleurs du Mal – Always Left Behind
Disclaimer: In case you haven't figured it out yet, I don't own Puella Magi Madoka Magica. All Madoka-related characters, settings, etc. are the intellectual property of Studio SHAFT and Gen Urobuchi.
[-]
This was, quite possibly, the most agonizing moment of Homura Akemi's long, long life. And that was a category that wasn't short on competition.
Because every single fiber of her body was aching to intervene right now.
She knew that this was something Madoka had to do herself. That she needed to master the impulse to treat the girl she loved as a frail little flower, helpless to do anything without Homura swooping to the rescue.
But that didn't make it any easier to watch her stand against her own Witch-self, who could obliterate her with a single word.
"Talk?" Gretchen repeated, frowning. "What is there to 'talk' about? Surely you aren't deluded enough to think we can come to an agreement."
"Doesn't mean I won't at least try," said Madoka. "You…came from me. If anyone can understand the pain you've had to go through, I would."
"Don't make me laugh, Origin," spat the Witch. "You cast me aside the very moment you had the chance. Eradicated me from the past, present, and future. If it wasn't for your Devil's folly, I would still be a lost soul, consigned to nothingness."
Homura felt her cheeks burn with fresh shame.
The pink-haired girl, however, only looked sad. "And maybe that was my mistake from the beginning," she responded. "I asked something of my Messengers that I wasn't prepared to do myself. To look inside the darkest parts of my heart…and accept them as part of me."
Madoka slowly stepped forward and spread her arms, as if offering an embrace.
"I want to change that. If you'll let me," she added quietly. "If you're willing…then we can be one again. You don't have to be alone anymore."
Whatever Gretchen had been expecting, it hadn't been that. She seized up, her body ramrod straight and her crimson eyes bulging, as if she couldn't believe Madoka would even dare make such a proposal.
Finally she bellowed, "I don't know what's more galling. Your shortsightedness, or your naivety. Do you truly think my motives so simple?"
She gestured wildly at one of the Witches floating above – a whalelike beast with long, spindly whiskers.
"I am far more than these mindless creatures, driven by sorrow or guilt or rage," she said viciously. "I embody precisely the same thing as you, my Origin. The mission, the purpose, to save every last soul in existence."
"Yeah, I ain't really seein' how this counts as savin'," Kyoko was the first of their group brave enough to interrupt this exchange, pointing a thumb toward the nearest Witch as well.
"Only because you think so small," hissed the Witch of Salvation. "In life, that poor soul was wracked with so many problems. Poverty, violence, heartache. I thought that I could cure them all, simply by absorbing them into my Barrier…but you three proved that even that isn't foolproof."
A scowl formed over Sayaka's features. "Not gonna apologize for breaking out of your happy little prisons," she shot back.
"Don't ask me to explain why your kind insists on rejecting literal paradise," Gretchen went on, as if she hadn't been interrupted. "But the fact remains that you do. So…I simply removed the option to choose. They're all so much happier now."
Madoka, however, had been staring at the whale Witch this whole time, her face falling little by little.
"I don't recognize this one," she murmured. "How can there be a Magical Girl I don't know?"
"Oh, that isn't a Magical Girl," said Gretchen, letting out a brief, spine-chilling chuckle. "It's a forty-year-old garbageman from New York City."
Now it was the Quintet's turn to feel their hearts fall into their stomachs. Homura certainly did.
Because if the Salvation Witch was telling the truth, then…then…
"You've been Contracting them. This whole time," Mami couldn't keep from voicing the horrific revelation aloud, hands over her mouth. "You've been Contracting ordinary people, and then turning them straight into Witches."
"There's nothing inherently special about pubescent females. The Incubators chose them as sources of emotional energy solely for efficiency's sake," Gretchen explained, as if this was the only logical conclusion. "But they were constrained by limited resources, and I am not. So I see no reason…why this gift should not be shared with every member of the human race."
Homura took another slow, nauseated look around her.
There were Witches everywhere. Hundreds, thousands of wretched souls, writhing in the throes of Despair. They came in every shape and size and color imaginable, some resembling paper mâché craft projects and others badly rendered CGI models.
Homura had seen more Witches than she could count in her endless repeated months. Killed more. And at a certain point, she'd stopped caring.
On an intellectual level, she always knew that the Witches were young girls on the inside, just like her. But she didn't let that stay her trigger finger. In the end, they were obstacles that stood in the way of Madoka's safety – nothing more.
Now, however? It was a sickening thing to say, but this almost made her long for the days of the Incubators.
At least they'd only consigned a fraction of the population to this cursed existence. Not considered it a reward to be doled out like candy.
Now that she was really looking, she could start to see the horrifying truth for herself. Witches often visually reflected their originators to a degree, albeit twisted. Homulilly shared her straight black hair and general color scheme, as well as less…obvious commonalities.
Similarly, when she squinted hard at the flood of Witches arrayed around them, certain elements stood in stark contrast. The angular border on that sphinx-like Witch's face had likely been a man's beard in life. Another Witch walked with a hunched gait and cane that clashed noticeably with her tropical island theme – likely a reflection of her true age.
So many poor souls, who never asked to be a part of this world of magic and monsters.
"The sad thing is, you don't even see what you've done," she said in a low voice. "You can't, because you're the same. Take it from someone who's gone through it herself. Being a Witch…changes you. Makes it impossible to see the world clearly."
"On the contrary. I am the ONLY one who sees this blighted world for what it is," hissed Gretchen, her voice briefly taking on that rough, distorted quality. "Because I have stood on its outskirts. Witnessed a thousand eternities rise and fall. And seen for myself, that no matter how much its 'heroes' may try…"
Her features tightened, and her next words came out as frustrated growls.
"Someone is always left behind. ALWAYS forgotten. And the masses just accept it, as a sacrifice for the greater good. What does the suffering of one poor soul matter, when it means a billion will live in comfort?" she continued on, voice vibrating with emotion.
The Witch splayed her arms out dramatically, as if presenting on a stage.
"But I reject that false choice!" she exclaimed, glaring daggers at her counterpart. "I have done what you failed to, Origin! I have found the solution that saves EVERYONE!"
Sayaka balled her hands into fists, face twisted in disgust.
"Where do they even think they are right now?" she demanded.
"The same place they were before. Their own, personally tailored Eden," said Gretchen. "The only difference is that they can no longer be tempted by snakes. Witches are incapable of such things."
"Only because they're trapped in an endless cycle of Despair!" Mami cried out. "You must see the hypocrisy of what you're trying to do! Offering them happiness…by locking them into a state where they can never experience it again…"
"Untrue," uttered the Salvation Witch, her crimson eyes flashing dangerously. "Ordinarily, you would be correct. The existence of most Witches is an agonizing one, because they are forced to constantly relive the worst memories of their past. The very apex of their misery and loneliness, stretched out without end."
She formed a fist with her left hand, knuckles cracking from the force of it. Clearly, their inability to see the elegance of her grand design was infuriating the pink-haired Witch.
"But remove all of those memories, and a Witch is like a hollow vessel," she finally continued. "One that I can fill up with the bliss of my Barrier. Suddenly, their nature is reversed. And the Witch becomes an entity that will never feel anything BUT joy and pleasure. For all eternity."
"Sounds like a peachy deal," replied Kyoko dryly. "So long as they ain't picky 'bout things like…oh, I dunno. Freedom?"
Gretchen's expression tightened even further.
"Freedom…is an empty promise. The enemy to Salvation," she said. "A free person may choose their own destruction. May choose violence, and bloodshed, and strife. Even the most virtuous soul is not immune. You speak of the merits of freedom…but what has it brought your species? Trillions of pointless wars and senseless deaths. Famine and plague in worlds of plenty. I look into the hearts of these poor, lost lambs, and I see a ceaseless parade of Despair, brought on by 'freedom.' All of it so, so avoidable. You expect me to bear witness to these tragedies, and NOT do everything in my power to help?"
"I don't," Madoka cut in, speaking for the first time since her Witch had revealed her horrific endgame. "Because I wouldn't be able to either. And in the end, underneath all the darkness and hate…we're the same person."
Gretchen looked like her counterpart had just spoken the most hideous insult imaginable.
"WE ARE NOT THE SAME!" she shrieked, so loud and ferocious that the girls were forced to cover their ears. "I AM WHAT YOU ONLY DREAMED OF BEING! THE SAVIOR, THE GODDESS, YOUR WORSHIPPERS TRULY DESERVE! I WILL SAVE THEM ALL!"
"You're right. You aren't like Madoka at all," Homura stated sharply. "Because Madoka never cared one bit about being a 'goddess.' About being recognized for her good deeds. She just did them. Because it was the right thing to do."
Gretchen suddenly rounded on the time-traveler, corrupted mana flowing from her body in waves, so that her dress and pigtails looked like they were caught in a fierce wind.
"You would dare speak to me so, little Devil? You, who needs my Salvation more than anyone?" she asked in a cold, cold voice. "I am DONE waiting. I have been separated from my beloved through the endless abyss of time and space. Now, that ends. You will become the Nutcracker Witch, for now and all eternity. And I promise you this. You will be happier than you EVER were as a poor, pathetic Magical Girl."
"I'm not going to let that happen," said Madoka, stepping between them with an uncharacteristically fierce glare.
"You don't face one of us. You face us all," Mami added, as she and her fellow Messengers joined their friends at either shoulder. "The Puella Magi Holy Quintet."
The Witch of Salvation hovered there for a moment, regarding the girls with a cruel sneer.
"Oh, I am certainly not going to underestimate the force that stands before me. United, you five wield a strength that is nearly without peer," she murmured. "But I…am beyond strength. Allow me to demonstrate."
She raised a hand – small and dainty, just like Madoka's, sharing even the same nicks and scrapes from years of mishaps in the crafts club – and waved it in the air once. As if making a summons.
The atmosphere around them shifted in an instant. No longer were the gathered Witches floating aimlessly, lost in their own little worlds. Suddenly they were surrounding the quintet on all sides, bearing down like ravenous beasts.
And, at the head of their procession…
Sayaka winced, averting her eyes. Mami's hands flew over her chest, her mouth wide in horror.
For all of them could easily recognize the Sweets Witch, saliva running down her gleaming white fangs.
"Keep those ones occupied, my dear Charlotte," said Gretchen, advancing once more on the former goddess and devil, so that they had nowhere left to run. "It is time for me to end things, once and for all."
[-]
It was the fiercest battle any of them had ever faced.
Usually, the advantage to fighting a Witch over a Magical Girl was that they weren't very careful planners. Their flailing, Despair-fueled death throes didn't lend well to long-term strategy or tactics. So long as you made sure not to fall victim to their "gimmick," even the most powerful Witch could be outsmarted.
These Witches, however, seemed to be little more than puppets – extensions of Gretchen's will. And the Salvation Witch was more than clever enough to make up for her "children."
More to the point, Witches typically didn't team up, for precisely the same reason. Caught in their own, personal nightmares, they were more likely to get in each other's way than anything else.
Gretchen coordinated them like limbs of the same body, filling the air with fire and acid and razor-sharp confetti. And more were arriving by the second. At their Savior's command, a billion Witches were en-route to punish the unbelievers.
Even Mami, the most veteran among them, had only ever faced two or three Witches at once. It was all she, Sayaka, and Kyoko could do to simply stay alive, as the throngs of transformed humans descended like vultures to carrion.
And none fit that description better than Charlotte, the Sweets Witch.
"Nagisa, this isn't you!" Sayaka called out to her fellow Messenger. "Remember who you used to be!"
"You're like a little sister to me! You gave me light, when I was trapped in nothing but darkness!" said Mami, begging through hot tears as the Witch gnashed at her with jaws like a steel trap. "If you come back to us, Nagisa-chan, I promise you'll have cheese for the rest of your life!"
But it was all to no avail. It simply wasn't in a Witch's nature to hear the pleas of those outside their Labyrinth.
Or to disobey the one who'd taken the place of that Labyrinth's siren song.
So with little choice, the three Messengers were forced to unload every last bit of mana they had remaining. To meet the overwhelming maelstrom of attacks with an equal number of sword, lances, and bullets.
The fury of the chaos was unyielding. Unceasing. It stung their eyes and roared in their ears, until it was only the unspoken bond between them that ensured they could determine friend from foe. They lost count of the number of times they came within centimeters of death.
And all along, they fought off that same song from snaking its way into their heads. A seductive whisper that promised an end to all the fighting, all the strife, if they simply joined their sisters in blissful ignorance.
If they simply gave in.
It didn't work, thankfully. They were all united now in pursuing the future, not burying the heads in the sand of some imagined past. But it was very distracting.
"I dunno how we win this. Every time we take down one Witch, two more come ta take its place," said Kyoko, frowning as she summoned an extra-long spear to catch a hippo-like Witch in her jaws. "Even with supped-up Messenger powers, we're gonna be runnin' on empty soon!"
"We simply must hold them off as long as we can!" Mami exclaimed, over the din of three consecutive Tiro Finales. "Long enough to buy time for Madoka-san and Homura-san! Their plan is the only chance we have left!"
"Right, the plan they never got 'round ta tellin' us?" the redhead shot back.
Sayaka landed on her other side, standing back-to-back with her partner as she summoned a blade to replace the last – which was jutting out the side of a Witch resembling a plastic version of the Eiffel Tower.
"We just have to trust them," she told Kyoko, blinking her eyes through sparks kicked up from parrying the charge of another trio of Witches.
Her eyes briefly glanced to the girl who had been her best friend since toddlerhood, and the girl to whom she had pledged her absolute heart.
"Because I don't think there's a damn thing those two can't do, as long as they have each other."
[-]
Kriemhild Gretchen, meanwhile, seemed quite intent on testing that theory.
Under cover of all the chaos, she'd continued to close in on her quarry, her advance slow and methodical. To all outside appearances, she looked like a predator toying with its meal – secure in the knowledge that they had no way to escape.
But it'd been several minutes now, and the Witch still hadn't completely closed the distance between them. Homura realized that she saw something different in Gretchen's cautious approach; in the slight hesitation of her every movement.
"You're scared, aren't you?" she said quietly. "To come into contact with Madoka. At least before you can transform me into Homulilly. You know what we're able to do together."
"You speak of the little 'hack' you found in my magic. I admit, you exceeded my expectations there," replied the Witch of Salvation, scarlet eyes narrowing. "But it doesn't change the simple fact that I AM the Law of Cycles. You cannot vanquish me, using the very Concept I now embody."
"She's right about that," Madoka spoke up, with a brief bite of her lip. "This isn't as simple as waving a finger and saying some magic words. She isn't 'a power that threatens mine.' She is my power. Just…in a different form."
Gretchen sneered at this apparent admission of defeat – but it fell away in an instant at what her counterpart said next.
"But what we can break through…" she continued, her voice growing firmer and more determined. "Is the blocks she placed on our magic. They only exist as long as we think they do. No matter how powerful she gets, she can't take away what we are."
Madoka slowly pointed a single finger at her own chest, and then Homura's.
"The avatar of Hope," she said. "And of…"
"Despair," the once-devil finished for her, averting her eyes out of shame.
But Madoka shook her head, her lips forming a tiny smile.
"Far deeper than that," she whispered back. "You're the embodiment of Love, Homura-chan. No one else could ever compare."
It was only the second time the girl she cherished had used the cutesy honorific since regaining her memories as a Goddess. And that, more than anything else, gave Homura the strength to do what she needed to do next.
"Stay with me, Madoka," she asked in a small voice, reaching out to take the other girl's hand in hers.
She didn't have to wait for a reply. She knew there was no chance of Madoka doing anything but.
"What are you doing?" Gretchen demanded harshly, as Homura began to march forward, one purposeful step at a time. "Stay back!"
It no longer took an expert Witch-hunter to see the tiny sparks of panic in her crimson eyes.
"I'm giving you exactly what you asked for," said Homura, fighting to keep her voice level. Even with Madoka's support, what she was about to do terrified her beyond belief. "I'm reaching down into my core…to find the Witch inside."
Suddenly, their positions were reversed. Now it was Kriemhild Gretchen trapped by the maelstrom of battle, unable to escape Homura's other hand as it reached steadily forward.
"My name is Homura Akemi," she murmured. "And right now, the power that threatens Madoka most of all…"
"CEASE THIS NOW!" the Witch bellowed.
But it did nothing to prevent Homura's palm from closing over her breast – directly where the living Madoka's Soul Gem would've been.
"…Is mine."
Then everything went black.
[-]
It was a remarkably familiar sensation.
By all accounts, it shouldn't have been. This type of experience was one most people would've found completely surreal, even to go through once.
But there was no getting around the fact that, for the second time in less than twenty-four hours, Homura Akemi found herself standing in a timeless void…
And facing a doppelganger of herself.
To be fair, unlike "Glasses Homura," this double wasn't a perfect copy of her body, at any point in her life. She had a shimmering black outline, not unlike the smoke-like grief that clouded Soul Gems, and her eyes were completely hidden by untamed, wild hair. She was clad in the same black dress that Homura had worn inside the Isolation Field, which honestly seemed a bit on the nose.
Regardless, there was no way to mistake who this must be.
"Hello, Homulilly," she said quietly.
The Nutcracker Witch slowly opened her mouth, twisting it into a crooked, rictus grin. Doing so made a ghastly creaking sound, like her jaw was a rusted hinge.
SO…WE MEET AT LAST.
Homura grimaced at the sound. She could still understand Runes, of course, but this could become quite tedious if they were forced to communicate solely in them.
As if responding to her irritation, however, she felt a sudden swooping sensation in her stomach, as if the whole world had just…reoriented itself around them. And when her Witch spoke again, it was in clear, if roughly pronounced, Japanese.
I, FOR ONE, DON'T UNDERSTAND WHY YOU ARE SO DEAD SET ON OPPOSING HER.
IT'S QUITE A LOVELY DEAL, FROM WHERE I STAND.
"A fellow Witch would certainly think that," responded Homura. "But that's not what I'm here to discuss. I think we've been due for a reckoning for a long time."
Homulilly's head tilted a few degrees to the side.
THAT IS CERTAINLY ONE WAY TO PUT IT.
Homura chewed on her lip, marshaling her strength. Even though she'd trusted in Madoka's plan – taking advantage of the unique magical confluence amongst them to "hijack" the link between their Witches – it didn't make actually doing it any easier.
She was in entirely uncharted territory now, without any powers…and facing off against the darkest parts of her deeply stained soul.
Oh, and the fate of the entire multiverse depended on her success.
So no pressure.
"I should probably start with this," she said at last. "How long have you been buried inside my heart like this? Since the moment I became the Devil?"
THAT ISN'T AN EASY QUESTION TO ANSWER, MY ORIGIN.
I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN WITH YOU, IN SOME FORM OR ANOTHER. WATCHING, WAITING. EYEWITNESS TO YOUR DESPERATE STRUGGLE. PATIENTLY COUNTING THE NIGHTS UNTIL MY EMERGENCE.
DEPENDING ON YOUR DEFINITION, IT COULD BE SAID THAT I EXISTED LONG BEFORE YOU EVEN MADE THE CONTRACT.
That information threw Homura for a loop. "What do you mean by that?" she asked.
DID YOU THINK WITCHES TO BE AN INVENTION OF THE MAGICAL GIRL SYSTEM ALONE?
NO, IT MERELY GAVE US FORM. FROM THE MOMENT HUMANITY DEVELOPED EMOTIONS, THEY HAVE NECESSARILY BEEN MATCHED BY THEIR OPPOSITES.
HAPPINESS MUST BE BALANCED BY SORROW. COURAGE BY FEAR. AND OF COURSE…HOPE BY DESPAIR.
IN EVERY HUMAN HEART, WHERE THERE IS EVEN A SLIVER OF MISERY OR RAGE OR HATE, LIES THE SEED OF A WITCH.
WAITING TO BLOOM.
"That…explains a lot, honestly," said Homura in a low voice. "The feelings you represent – they certainly didn't start the day an Incubator sent me back in time. They were there from the beginning."
Her double folded her shadowed hands across one another.
OH? INTERESTING.
AND WHAT IS IT YOU BELIEVE I 'REPRESENT'?
Homura stared down at her feet as she pondered this question. She'd been going through quite a bit of self-reflection over the past fortnight. This, she supposed, was where it naturally had to end.
"Before I met Madoka, I was…I was barely even alive," she told the Witch. "I just shuffled from one day to the next, keeping my head down. Convinced I'd never be anything more than the sickly girl who was a burden to everyone."
Her fists clenched on the hems of her skirt.
"I've always hated myself. As far back as I can remember," she continued to whisper. "I hated that I was weak, and frail, and useless. I hated that I needed help to do…anything, but no one ever wanted help from me. I hated my face and my body and my stupid, stupid heart…"
BUT MEETING MADOKA DIDN'T CHANGE THAT, DID IT?
IT ONLY MADE IT WORSE.
"It did. At least at the start," Homura admitted with a sigh. "She was everything I…I wasn't. Not because she didn't experience the same demons I did. But because she was strong enough to rise above them. She considered her role as a Magical Girl to be a calling. Something that let her rise above the petty fears and insecurities that had me drowning in the muck."
The former devil shook her head once, marshalling herself. "At first I thought…if I could become like her, then maybe the rest would follow," she said. "But of course, it wasn't that simple. Even with magic, I was powerless to do the one thing I truly wanted. The one thing I Wished for. I lost her over, and over, and over…"
She placed her hands over her face and let it rest there for a few moments, breathing hard. This was even more difficult than she'd anticipated.
"Sometimes I wonder if these journeys through time would've broken anyone…or if it was just me," Homura gasped out. "I do know that every toxic, nasty, negative thought I ever had – they just buried themselves deeper and deeper, the more I went back to the past. The more I failed. Until I couldn't see anything else."
AND THOSE THOUGHTS TURNED INTO ME…
IS THAT WHAT YOU MEAN TO SAY?
"It's more complicated than that," answered the black-haired girl. "If you were a normal Witch, then…maybe. But you're not. Because I…stole from you. Stole what you were meant to be."
The Nutcracker Witch's shadowy lips twisted into the barest hint of a frown.
EXPLAIN YOURSELF.
"It goes back to what the Incubators did, I think. What they did to both of us," she said. "By trapping me in their Isolation Field, I was given a chance that, in the world of the Law of Cycles, no other Magical Girl has ever had. I got to…become you. Without even realizing it."
Fingers drummed along her arms in nervous agitation.
"I've been observing her Messengers. And they've made it clear that that was the true genius of her Wish," muttered Homura. "Just look at Sayaka Miki. At how much she's grown, simply by connecting with the Mermaid Witch. By making peace with the part of her soul she represents."
AND THAT'S WHY YOU'RE HERE? TO FOLLOW THAT FOOL'S LEAD?
A SUITABLE ENOUGH PLAN, IF NOT FOR ONE THING…
I HAVE NO INTEREST IN 'MAKING PEACE.'
"Of course you don't. Because your Nature is Self-Sufficient. You embody my stubbornness. My refusal to rely on anyone else – even if the alternative is my own destruction," spoke the once-demon. "But I'm…trying to grow from that. Which means you can too."
Homulilly leaned forward, her ire palpable even if Homura still couldn't see her full face.
YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT ISN'T HOW WITCHES WORK.
I CAN NO MORE CHANGE MY NATURE THAN A TIGER MAY CHANGE ITS STRIPES.
EVEN IF I WANTED TO.
"That's not true, and we both know it," said Homura sharply. "Because I know you. I am the only Magical Girl to ever hold the mantle of 'Devil.' But I claimed that mantle…by denying your natural birth. I stole your magic, and your Familiars, and your very Nature. Fused them into something new and strange and frightening."
Her breaths were growing deeper and heavier now. This was it. The moment this had all been leading toward.
"Which brings us to why I truly wanted to meet you. More than anything else," her words came out in a clipped whisper. "I want…to apologize. For being so selfish. For denying you the salvation you deserve."
Even as a mere shadow, she could sense the Nutcracker Witch tensing rigidly.
WHAT…WHAT IS THIS FARCE?
THIS IS…UTTERLY ABSURD…
"Perhaps. But that's really nothing new for us, is it?" Homura asked coolly, before turning her head to the side. "I think she's ready."
Homulilly didn't have time to guess whom she might be addressing. Not before a great flash of pink light surged through the darkness, and rendered the question moot.
"Hi, Homulilly," said Madoka, as she stepped slowly out of the beam. "I'm sorry I took so long."
[-]
Being here felt simultaneously familiar and alien.
One consequence of being a timeless entity was that any return to its normal flow seemed to last a lifetime. Even though, objectively, Madoka knew that only a few weeks had passed since she was removed from the Law of Cycles, her time back on the mortal plane had…changed her. So that her memories of divinity felt like ancient history, belonging to another.
Yet at the same time, simply being here carried…understanding. It felt right. Maybe there was truth in that saying about bicycles after all.
(Mind, as a human, she'd never actually gotten the hang of riding one herself.)
She'd been banking on that; staked the entire future of the multiverse on a hunch. Hoping, in her heart of hearts, that forcing a situation where she was face-to-face with a Witch in need of her helping hand would reignite the flames of her Wish.
But she also somehow knew that it couldn't be just any Witch. This wouldn't work the same way if she was trying to save Sayaka, or Kyoko, or Mami, or Nagisa, or any of those poor souls who'd just been transformed.
Or even herself.
No, this had all began with the righteous Rebellion of a single, lonely girl. And so…
That was where it needed to end.
Homulilly shuffled backward through the void. Madoka hadn't known it was possible for a being without a face to look so panicked.
I WON'T BE DESTROYED…
I REFUSE!
"We're not here to destroy you. At least…not in the way you think," she said carefully.
Even as she spoke the words, however, she could feel the power coursing through her. Like it'd never left. In that moment, she knew that she could. A mere gesture, and the Nutcracker Witch would be no more.
But that wouldn't solve anything.
"I…I've been thinking a lot about this, ever since my memories were restored," Madoka whispered. "I thought I knew how much you were hurting. That simply joining me in my Heaven would be enough to…to fix everything. God, I was a fool. Omniscient and yet so, so blind."
She was talking to both of them now, and Homura seemed to realize it. "Madoka…" she began, only for the once-goddess to cut her off with a raised hand.
"There are no easy solutions in this world. Not even with magic," she declared. "It takes work, real work, to get there. Work I didn't do before I tried to save you. Work I didn't do…for myself."
Homulilly's voice came out a strangled, desperate hiss.
WHAT IS THIS NONSENSE?
"It's not like it's a coincidence that our ultimate enemy is my own Witch," said Madoka. "That's the other thing I've been trying to come to grips with. Gretchen didn't just come from nowhere. She isn't this powerful just because I made such a huge Wish. She reflects…what I was hiding, buried deep down. Even from myself."
As if acting on instinct, Homura swept forward, pulling her into a searing embrace. Madoka welcomed it, nuzzling her cheek into the crook of the other girl's neck.
"We were a Goddess, and a Devil. But before that, we were so, so human," she breathed out. "And we were broken, in the way only humans can be. All the power we gained…didn't change that. It only deepened the wounds."
WHICH IS WHY YOU NEED TO LEAVE THE REST TO US!
YOU'VE DONE NOTHING BUT MAKE A MESS OF THINGS. WE WITCHES ARE THE RESULT!
STAND ASIDE, AND ALLOW US TO SAVE THIS WRETCHED WORLD!
"Why would you care about that?" Homura asked quietly, without breaking away from their hug. "It's not in your Nature, is it?"
I CARE ABOUT HER.
Homulilly's fury burned white-hot around that last word. Enough for Madoka to be certain of her sincerity – as if there was ever any doubt.
"Of course you do. Nothing born of Homura Akemi's soul could ever be otherwise," she said. "That's why I'm asking you to do the right thing for the one you love. Help me heal her. The way I want to heal you."
The very nature of Madoka's existence meant that, even if she couldn't read the Witch's expression, they shared an intimate connection. The sheer depth of her hostility was like a dark ocean, vast enough to drown in.
But Madoka stood her ground, not letting go of the girl she loved.
"Our hearts have always beat as one. All four of us," she continued to tell the Nutcracker Witch. "Our paths are tied together so tightly, that it's hard to know where they begin or end. It's…agony, Homulilly. Knowing that she's in pain. Knowing that you're in pain."
YOU SIMPLY WANT TO ERASE US.
TO ABSORB US INTO YOUR BODIES, LIKE SCRAPS OF A MEAL. UNTIL WE ARE NOTHING.
"No. I want to learn from you," Madoka responded. "Everyone has more than one side. I can't be the Law the world deserves…while I'm denying one of mine. You taught me that."
That last statement, she directed toward the girl in her arms. She watched Homura tear up, as if in slow-motion, certain of what she must be thinking.
Because ever since she'd accepted the folly of her Rebellion, she knew the black-haired girl had been overflowing with guilt. Feeling that every tragedy that followed was all her fault.
But the truth was, as awful as some of her actions as the Devil had been…she'd done a lot of good, too.
As the Law of Cycles, everything about her had been so…limited. Constrained by the nature of her being.
For it was impossible for a god to grow or change. Those were gifts exclusive to humanity.
These brief weeks of freedom – the restoration of her bonds with her family and friends, the simple pleasures of a cool breeze and hot ramen – had been like a reset switch. Granting her perspective that even divinity never could.
Even if she needed to reclaim her mantle, if only for the sake of preventing Gretchen from misusing it…
In her heart, Madoka knew that it wouldn't be the same as it once was. It couldn't be.
"This is a journey for all four of us. The Goddess, the Devil, and both of our Witches," she said. "And I'm not saying it'll be easy. But it'll be right. We'll create a system better than any of us could make alone."
"Madoka…" Homura choked out. It seemed she'd finally realized exactly what the pink-haired girl intended. "You…You can't mean…You can't really want me to…"
"I can't do this alone. Not anymore," Madoka interjected, her voice gentle but firm. If nothing else, she needed to make sure the other girl understood at least this much. "You saw what happened with those girls Gretchen sent after us. I…could've never reached them, all on my own. I need someone else, to be my anchor. My balance."
Fairy-light lips ghosted softly over much firmer ones. "And I can't imagine that ever being anyone else," she murmured, without pulling away. "I need you, Homura-chan. I need all of you."
And with that, she returned to addressing the Nutcracker Witch, who'd been watching this all with a shadowy grimace.
NO MATTER WHAT YOU SAY, I WON'T BE CONVINCED. AND NEITHER WILL SHE.
WE DON'T NEED YOU ANY LONGER. WE ARE GREATER THAN YOU HAVE EVER BEEN. WHEN THIS IS A WORLD MADE SOLELY OF WITCHES…
IT WILL BE A KINDER, GENTLER ONE.
"Maybe, in some ways," Madoka admitted. "But at what cost? If you truly represent the darkness in Homura's heart, then you should know better than anyone that there's more to life than…survival. Than the empty peace she promises. I look at you, and I can see you're motivated by the same thing your Origin is. The one thing that won't exist in Gretchen's world."
She shared a glance with the black-haired girl, and then they spoke it in unison.
"Love."
Homulilly was fidgeting anxiously now, as if she was putting concerted effort into forcing herself not to listen to their words. Her shadowed head turned from one direction to the next, like a cornered animal about to flee.
But there was no running in this place. This was the core of Homura Akemi. And no matter how their Witches might try to pretend otherwise…
You couldn't separate one from the other. Two sides to the same coin.
I…
I WILL NOT BETRAY HER.
It was the first time Madoka had heard true hesitancy in the Nutcracker Witch's tones.
OUR DESTINY IS TO BE TOGETHER. TO RULE OVER THE COSMOS AS ITS TWIN QUEENS.
A COSMOS SHE HAD MADE PERFECT.
"If you really believe that…" said Homura. "Then you have nothing to fear from merging with me. If your love is the stronger one, you'll have no trouble being the one in control. It's what she wants, right? For you to be on the outside, standing at her shoulder. Instead of trapped in here, a mere shadow of my sins."
Those words had Homulilly frozen stiff. Which meant it was finally time for Madoka to deal the finishing blow – the one she'd been holding close to her chest all this time.
"I know that, in the end…there's only one thing you really want," she told the Witch softly. "And it isn't conquest, or glory, or anything like that. If you are truly a piece of Homura Akemi's soul…and Gretchen a piece of mine…"
The girl who was once a goddess swallowed, hard. Mustering courage that didn't come to her naturally, and yet so many people depended on her reclaiming.
"Then you want the one thing that, right now, only we can give her," stated Madoka, blinking through tears. "You want her to be happy."
Homulilly was silent for a very long time. Madoka was sure that they were all now thinking the very same thing.
That no matter how much she might protest their superiority, Witches were inherently incomplete beings. Defined by the absence of the very emotion that animated Magical Girls: Hope.
Kriemhild Gretchen was driven to bring salvation to the multiverse, because she was born of Madoka's compassionate spirit. But no matter how many people she saved, it would never be enough. Could never be enough.
Because she was missing the part of herself that was capable of recognizing the hole in her own heart.
Homulilly didn't care about that absence in herself. It didn't matter. But for the one she loved…
Well, in the end, she was Homura Akemi. And there wasn't a Homura in all the multiverse…
Who wasn't willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for her Madoka.
The once-goddess didn't so much hear as feel the change in the Witch. The silent assent that she was ready.
Power coursed through Madoka's entire essence. She had a singular purpose – to destroy Witches with her own hands – and now was the time to exercise it.
But not as she had before. This time, she wouldn't impose any of her own feelings upon the girl she was healing.
This time, she would understand.
Homura and Homulilly slowly walked forward, facing one another. The Witch scowled, still not entirely at peace with this arrangement.
And yet driven forward all the same, by a love so strong that even a thousand repeated lifetimes of Despair couldn't douse it.
Before they touched, the Nutcracker Witch offered one last, parting statement.
IF I AM TO LEAVE THIS TO YOU, ORIGIN…
THEN YOU MUST SAVE HER. EVEN…IF IT IS FROM HERSELF.
"We will save her," said Homura firmly. "Together."
The girl and her Witch clasped arms, as the pink energy from within Madoka's soul reached its apex, and enveloped them all in blinding light.
[-]
All of this, from the perspective of those outside the "circuit," had happened between two ticks of the clock. They were, after all, within the realm of the Law of Cycles, where time didn't exist.
Which didn't make it any less jaw-dropping for Sayaka when, between blinks, the scene of Homura and Madoka pressing their hands against the Salvation Witch's chest…
Morphed into something else entirely.
No longer were they two human girls, facing a monstrously powerful foe. Now Gretchen was the one dwarfed by her opposition – arms raised to shield her crimson eyes from the surging light.
Madoka was immediately recognizable. She wore the same flowing white dress and body-length hair that marked her appearance as the Law of Cycles, and radiated with the same boundless, ethereal energy. There was one notable difference, however.
Her lily-white bows had been replaced with the same red ribbons she'd worn as a human girl. The very ones she'd passed onto Homura before ascending, and which had been returned to her following the Rebellion.
But it was her partner who truly had the Messengers frozen in awe. Even Charlotte and the rest of the Witches halted their attacks.
Homura Akemi's new form clearly drew inspiration from her "Devil" persona, but at the same time was transformed almost beyond recognition. While it still kept the general appearance of a black ballgown, gone were the plunging neckline or seductive gaps in the fabric.
Instead it was adorned with ruffles and black lace, giving the whole ensemble a far more Gothic feel. Its color scheme also wasn't pure black any longer, but rather contained accents of white and slate gray, evoking her old Magical Girl uniform.
For lack of a better term, it was…classier. Something that reflected the true heart of its wearer far more closely.
A girl who, before trials and tribulations had worn her down, had started off even more innocent than Madoka.
The greatest change, however, was in her wings. In her previous form, Homura's had been adorned with what resembled crow's feathers, linked together with a frame that was skeletal and fragmented. Like they might fall apart at any moment.
Now, they were as full-bodied and vibrant as Madoka's own wings – twins cast in ebony.
According to some, even demons had their origins in Heaven. And perhaps that was true. Perhaps, at her core, Homura was still a Devil. But even if you allowed them as synonyms, there simply wasn't anything else she could be called now.
Homura Akemi…was an angel. A fallen angel, yes.
But an angel nonetheless.
"Oh my god," said a similarly gobsmacked Kyoko. "She's gone all One-Winged Angel up in this bitch. That's so fuckin' sick."
Mami frowned in confusion. "But she clearly has two wings," she pointed out.
"Nah, she means…oh never mind," Sayaka sighed. There was no point explaining the reference to Mami, who understood video games even less than Hitomi did. Instead, she cupped her hands around her mouth to carry her voice afar. "Looking good, Transfer Student!"
"So…" bellowed Gretchen, in a passable imitation of her earlier bravado. But all of them could see how shaken the Witch had become. "You've regained your crown at last."
"I never wore a crown. I never wanted to rule," Madoka responded. Her voice hadn't changed in tone, in stark contrast to her inhuman counterpart – and yet it still reverberated with its own sense of power nonetheless. "But yes, I am in touch with the Law once more. We both are."
"And you," hissed the Salvation Witch, turning to Homura with an accusatory glare. "What have you done with my love? Where is Homulilly?"
The girl who had once been a Devil blinked open eyes of palest silver. The perfect counterpoint to Madoka's brilliant gold.
"She…is here. And here," said Homura, pressing a black-gloved palm lightly against her chest, and then the back of her hand – the same spot where she'd once worn her Soul Gem. "There is no longer a place where she ends, and I begin. We are one, as we always should have been."
"You…You lie!" Gretchen snapped back. "I will NOT allow you to tear us apart! And I will NOT allow you to interfere with my mission!"
"That's what I've been trying to tell you, Gretchen. It isn't one or the other," Madoka declared. "Homulilly wanted the same thing for you that I want. For you to be happy, and at peace…for the first time since you were born. I haven't been there for you – for myself – and I'm sorry for that. Please let me make amends."
"I never thought I could be…complete, like this. I thought I'd be broken forever," Homura added, clutching again at the fabric over her breast. "But a broken pen can still write. So I'm going to keep writing my story, along with Madoka. Along with Homulilly. We want you to be a part of that, too."
For just a second, a flash of…something passed across the Witch's eyes. Could they have broken through at last?
But then the moment passed, and Gretchen's expression hardened deeper than ever.
"You of all people, my Origin, should know this is futile," she said. "'And if that goes against the Laws of the universe, then I'll just rewrite those Laws.' You spoke those words when we were still one, and I took them to heart. I will not allow ANYTHING to stand in the way of my Salvation. Not even you."
The Witch spread her arms as chaotic miasma erupted behind her, wreathing her entire body in an aura of Despair.
"If you want to stop me here, so-called Goddess…" she went on, her voice growing rougher and harsher as the miasma grew as tall as a mountain. "Then you will have to destroy me. The way you tried and failed to in the past."
"I told you, I don't want to fight," responded Madoka. "But I also won't allow you to keep doing what you want. Not while innocents are at stake."
She raised a palm high into the air. The gathered Messengers were forced to brace themselves as a shockwave went out, reverberating through the entire realm like a great torrent of wind.
When it dissipated, the clownlike worm who'd been opened her maw to swallow them whole had vanished. And in her place…
Was a tiny girl with white hair and multicolored eyes, which were brimming with tears.
"Onee-san…" choked out Nagisa Momoe. She wasted no time in leaping into Mami's waiting arms.
"I'm sorry I was away for so long," said Mami, her voice wavering through similar emotion. "But I'm here for you now. For as long as you need me."
Meanwhile, all around them, the same thing was happening to dozens, hundreds of other Witches. Sayaka watched in awe as one after another was restored to human form.
Most, she recognized from her time as a Messenger. Tart, Jaya, Sigrun, Teave. All of them wearing identical expressions of astonishment and relief, like they were waking up from a long nightmare.
But it was Kyoko who first realized that something was amiss.
"Hey…" she spoke, pointing a finger forward. "How come those ones ain't transformin' back?"
Indeed, while a great number of the Witches had been restored to Magical Girl form, thousands more remained trapped in those twisted, repulsive shapes. It was most noticeable with those girls from Kamihama, where four girls surrounded a birdlike Witch, looking upon their still-corrupted friend with shock and dismay.
Frowning, Madoka clutched onto Homura's arm and raised her hand again. The shockwave pulsed out several more times, each one producing an even more furious wind than the last.
But the Witches remained unchanged. Gretchen's mouth twisted into a cruel grimace.
"Your Wish was made for the sake of Magical Girls alone. And so, only THEY are within your purview," she said. "Every other soul across the vast breadth of the multiverse – past, present, or future – was left behind by your Salvation."
She affixed her counterpart with a glare of pure, unyielding hatred.
"But not by mine."
[-]
It was a good thing Madoka no longer needed to breath, because she wasn't sure she'd be able to now.
She looked upon the vast ocean of Witches still swimming before them. Each one a human being at their core, of every age or race or gender. Either unable, or unwilling, to participate in the Magical Girl system.
And so, beyond her reach to help.
She felt Homura's arm wrap around her waist, providing her comfort. It was welcome, but it didn't change how the recently renewed Goddess felt.
Because this was where Gretchen was right. At least, to a point. Her Heaven hadn't been enough to solve the ills of this world. Of every world.
But that didn't change the fact that her Witch's "cure" was even worse than the disease. These poor souls might've been happy, but only in the most technical sense. Only because their minds had been stripped of everything else.
That wasn't true happiness. That wasn't life.
Gretchen wouldn't ever be able to understand that, as long as they were apart. As long as Hope and Despair were out of balance, unable to offer their perspective to the other.
There was no longer any choice.
"Right now, the Law of Cycles recognizes two masters. You, for Magical Girls…and myself, for everyone else," said the Salvation Witch. "That will not be tenable for long, and we both know it. Neither of us will stand down from our crusade."
"I don't want to use force. But I will, if there's no other way," Madoka answered back coolly. Sparks of light blinked around her, as her familiar bow materialized into existence.
"Either you win, and absorb me as you keep crowing about…" Gretchen continued on, her miasmic aura shifting in form. It granted her wings as well, lifting her up until she was eye-to-eye with her Origin. "Or I win, and you become just another soul in my Barrier. You'll be happy there, I promise you that."
The meeting of their energies was starting to produce splinters and cracks in the world around them. Gretchen was right – the Law of Cycles couldn't exist for long, split up like this.
"You'll be using those Witches as your army, I assume?" asked Madoka. "I don't want to hurt them. They didn't ask for this."
"They know nothing but gratitude to their Savior. If I order them to fight, they will fight," Gretchen told her counterpart coldly. "It's up to you whether you choose to oppose them."
The splinters were growing larger by the second. This entire plane of existence was like a Soul Gem, on the verge of shattering.
Madoka looked to the girl she loved, who nodded once. Letting the Goddess know she had her unconditional support – as if there was ever any doubt.
It was far from the appropriate time, but it struck Madoka in that moment just how beautiful Homura looked in her new form.
The pink-haired deity swallowed once, and let out a breathless sigh.
"Then if that's how it must be," she said. "Magical Girls against Witches. Hope versus Despair. The final battle."
"Winner takes all," whispered Kriemhild Gretchen.
With those words, the realm of the Law of Cycles exploded at last, tearing them all asunder.