Les Fleurs du Mal – I Can Move Forward
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.
[-]
A/N: I know that the reception of the last couple of chapters has been…mixed. I wish I could say I was professional enough not to let that affect me.
Of course, I never want to feel like I've disappointed a significant portion of my readers. It's a genuinely awful feeling, and one I've largely been fortunate enough to avoid in the past. But one can hardly expect to post material for public consumption and only ever receive unambiguously positive feedback.
I thought about using this space to respond to some of the critiques, but in the end I think the story needs to stand on its own, for better or worse. Suffice to say that I think some of the points have merit, while I'd quibble with a few others.
Regardless, I'm afraid that I can't let this criticism, no matter how constructive or well-intentioned, affect the conclusion of this tale. In the end, the only path forward that I can feel confident in is to write it as I intended, and hope it works for most of you.
This is the final chapter of a saga that began over four years ago, minus an epilogue that will wrap up a handful of lingering character threads. One that, all told, will eclipse 400,000 words in total, and touch every aspect of the "Madoka Magica" franchise.
It's meant more to me than any other piece of writing I've ever crafted – a love letter to my favorite anime of all time, and to the wide array of Magical Girl and girls' love works that inspired it. My heartfelt tribute to characters who have continued to touch me deeply across the decade since I first learned their stories, and exploration of their struggles with love, loss, and mental health.
Whether you have stayed on board with me across that entire journey, or whether you wound up falling off along the way…I want to thank you all, from the bottom of my heart. I couldn't have made it this far without you.
Be good and civil to one another. Enjoy these last remaining pieces, or don't, at your discretion. But either way, I hope we can all agree to take these words to heart.
"Don't forget. Always, somewhere, someone is fighting for you. As long as you remember her…you are not alone."
[-]
When Madoka's golden eyes blinked open, the first thing she saw was a great myriad of stars.
The second thing she saw was her best friend, lightly tapping her on the forehead with the broad edge of her sword.
"Geez, once you became a goddess…" said Sayaka, wearing an entirely inappropriate goofy grin. "I figured the days of me helping you get out of bed on a lazy morning were over."
It all came flooding back in an instant. The confrontation with Gretchen. Their struggle to persuade Homulilly to accept their help. The shattering of the Law of Cycles.
"Where are we right now?" she asked, feeling embarrassed for not knowing herself. Omniscience wasn't really all it was cracked up to be.
"Based on the position of the constellations, my best conjecture is galaxy UGC 10214. More commonly known as the 'Tadpole Galaxy' for its unique shape," spoke up Abby, stepping in front of Madoka's vision and pushing her glasses higher up on her face. "Approximately 420 million lightyears from Earth."
The interjection from one of her Messengers caused Madoka to cast her gaze in a wide arc. What met her eyes seemed to be every single Magical Girl she'd recruited as a Messenger, and a few more besides. At least five hundred girls in all, floating in the vacuum of space.
"If yer wanderin' why we ain't chokin' or nothin'…" drawled Kyoko, though in lieu of finishing that sentence, she merely flicked a thumb upward.
Madoka's eyes followed. Until she took in a sight that was, even to a divine being, utterly awe-inspiring.
Homura Akemi, both hands raised above her head, channeling an enormous amount of magical energy. Enough to form a protective bubble around every Messenger here.
"I'll be right back," she said quickly, beating her wings and ascending without waiting for a response.
Homura was so intently focused on maintaining the shield that she didn't even notice Madoka's approach at first. Not until the Goddess was practically floating right over her shoulder.
"Here, let me take some of that," she murmured with a smile, letting her own mana flow out freely in a beam of pink light.
The pink energy melded with Homura's purple, intertwining like two lengths of rope. Until the bubble was growing brightly, far stronger than before.
The former Devil used a sleeve to wipe sweat from her brow, her shoulders sinking out of exhaustion. "Thank you, Madoka," she gasped out. "I don't know how much longer I could've kept that up on my own."
"I'm more impressed you were able to bring it up so quickly. Even I was out of things for a while after Gretchen split the Law of Cycles," replied Madoka. "Though since I am the Law of Cycles, I guess that sort of makes sense."
"I've…hurt these people enough. Everyone here," said Homura, glancing aside guiltily. "The least I can do is protect them now."
That guilty look was immediately replaced by a far different one as Madoka gave her a peck on the cheek.
"It was still very sweet," she whispered, taking far more delight than perhaps was warranted by her station in her lover's reddened face. "Come on, join us. I think we've all got a lot to talk about."
Homura didn't look like she was capable of speaking yet, but nodded once. Hands clutched together, she and Madoka descended to reunite with the others.
Timid little Kausar immediately ran up to them as soon as they "landed" – for a given definition of the term, considering there wasn't actually any ground below.
"I'm so sorry!" she squeaked, hands squeezed tightly around the cloth of her hijab. "We didn't…I mean, we couldn't tell…she was just so…!"
"I think she's trying to apologize for us all getting duped by that Witch of yours," Penthesilea cut in, the Amazonian queen palming her fist in quietly smoldering fury. "Oh, when I get my hands on her…"
"That's okay. I don't blame any of you," Madoka said hurriedly. "She had you all brainwashed…"
"Perhaps. But it wouldn't have worked if we hadn't let it in the first place," Amelia pointed out. "There isn't a single one of us who passed on without regrets. She…exploited that. Gave us worlds where we never had to pay a cost for our Wishes."
"You were the only ones who broke free on your own," added Socorro, looking upon Sayaka, Kyoko, and Mami with awe. "You truly are the strongest among us!"
But the blonde shook her head slowly. "None of us can claim that achievement alone. It was our bonds with each other that gave us the strength," she told the Filipina girl. "And it will surely be your bonds that allow us to win this day."
As she spoke these words, she was staring down at Nagisa, who was gripping so tightly onto her legs that it seemed she might never let go. The white-haired girl gave us a small smile in agreement, then went right back to hugging.
"Easier said than done. Does anyone even know where Gretchen and her army might be?" asked Xiaoping.
"Allow me," Jaya declared, her cybernetic eye whirring to life as she drew a magical circle around it with her finger.
The South Asian girl, Madoka recalled, had been obsessed with astronomy in life, and Wished to discover an entirely new celestial body. Accordingly, her personal magic allowed her to pinpoint any object in space, no matter how distant.
"They're massing right on the edge of the Milky Way," she said a moment later. "I can't even begin to count the number of Witches. She must be pulling them in from other universes."
"That reminds me," Madoka mused quietly. "I know where in the universe we are now. But which universe?"
"Mine," a cool voice spoke up, causing heads to turn.
Yachiyo Nanami approached with heavy, purposeful strides, flanked on either side by three of her kohai.
"The confluence of energy from your meeting was finally enough for her to breach the walls of my home universe," she continued on. "Most likely by using Iroha-san as her conduit. Or rather…Giovanna."
The stricken look on the model's face left no doubt how she felt about this loss.
"Wait, didn'tcha say her gettin' inta yer home turf would like…blow it up, or whatever?" said a confused Felicia.
"The barrier that prevents Witches from existing surrounds our version of Kamihama City alone," Yachiyo explained. Her voice was outwardly calm, but the iron grip she maintained on her halberd seemed anything but. "I suppose she must be too far from Earth for it to affect her. But if she manages to reach it…"
"Then we have to keep her away from la planète!" Tart called out, her sword held aloft. "No matter what it takes!"
"She isn't moving, though," Sacniete informed the others, tapping Jaya's temple and using her own telepathic powers to display her inner thoughts for everyone to see. The cyborg herself was too busy concentrating on her magic to speak any longer. "Just summoning up more Witches."
Indeed, Madoka didn't know what to even call the array of poor, corrupted souls gathering before their eyes. It seemed like there were enough to fill an entire solar system.
"I expect she's hedging her bets. Ensuring she has an army that even the gods could not defeat, before launching her attack," said Cleopatra shrewdly. "And tactically, that may be the correct decision. The hundreds of us here may make for a formidable force…but if we faced her now, we'd be outnumbered by factors incalculable."
"I can calculate it, as a matter of fact," remarked Dongmei, tapping a pen to the clipboard in her arms. "And it doesn't look good for us."
Madoka tapped her chin thoughtfully. "We need a place to regroup. To plan out our strategy," she muttered to herself. "There has to be a reason we wound up here, of all places. Jaya, can you refocus? Try to find the nearest planet to us?"
The South Asian girl let out an enormous breath, collapsing to her knees in a giant pool of sweat. Kyalamboka, her girlfriend, immediately rushed forward to catch her.
Still, Jaya gritted her teeth and nodded, her mechanical eye spinning wildly again. A moment later, Sacniete's psychic vision displayed something very different.
A chill collectively went up the spines of every single girl present.
"I've never seen it before. But those colors…" Anne Frank whispered fearfully.
Madoka was about to answer, but her lover beat her to it.
"When I was the Devil, I was connected intimately to that place. It felt awful," said Homura, her new wings tensed and rigid. "But yet, it's exactly what it looks like."
All of them stared with bated breath at the cold, milky-white planet, covered with swirling storms the shade of blood.
"The Incubator homeworld."
[-]
What awaited them was nothing but devastation.
When the Magical Girls arrived planetside, Homura hadn't been sure what to expect. Even when she'd had her thumb on the entire Incubator species, she'd never bothered to dig too deeply – hence why they'd been able to trick her yet again.
What little she'd managed to glean about their home planet gave the impression of a utopia, for a given definition of the term. With virtually every individual connected in a single, unified hivemind, their race had never developed concepts like war, crime, or bigotry. They worked continuously for the collective betterment of the species, inventing incredible technologies like the Soul Gem system sooner than most worlds discovered electricity.
If anything, their fatal flaw had been that they'd developed too peacefully. It made it nearly impossible to reach mutual understanding with other species, whose minds they found truly and completely alien.
Regardless, if anything like utopia had ever existed on this planet, there was no sign of it now. The soil was scorched and barren, and any remains of what might've once been cities faced the constant ravage of those violent, crimson storms.
But then, that wasn't really a surprise, was it? Every Incubator in the multiverse had been repurposed as glorified batteries for Kriemhild Gretchen. Snatched up from whatever hole they might've been hiding in, and sucked dry of mana until there was nothing left.
A suitably ignominious fate for a race that had used and abused "lesser" ones for millions of years.
It was almost enough to make Homura extend them a bit of pity. Almost.
"The rest of the Messengers are either setting up camp or recovering. Sigrun and Sacagawea are taking point," said Sayaka. "But I'm guessing you wanted a few minutes away from them to figure things out, huh?"
Homura watched as her lover gave a small smile of admission, and forced herself to suppress a brief but familiar pang of jealousy.
No matter how close she and Madoka got, there were some ways in which Sayaka Miki would always know her best friend better.
Still, she was comforted a bit by just how brief the jealous instinct was. Ultimately, the notion didn't really bother her as much as it once had. Madoka's heart was big enough for all of them, and there was nothing wrong with that.
Maybe she was growing as a person. Baby steps.
The so-called Holy Quintet, plus Nagisa Momoe, were indeed gathered a short distance away from the rest of the girls, taking shelter in what've might once been a meeting or gathering hall. Now, it was little more than ruins, but at least offered slightly more protection from the storms than the rest of the barren wasteland.
"There wasn't time to address this earlier, Homura-san…" Mami spoke up. "But I am very much in support of your new form. It is certainly…fetching."
"She means ya look hot. An' she ain't wrong," Kyoko added loudly, causing their sempai to flush scarlet. "But not like…trashy hot. Not sayin' there's anythin' wrong with that succubus look ya had goin' on before, but it didn't suit ya."
Sayaka thwacked her roommate on the shoulder, almost automatically, but also didn't seem to have anything to say in disagreement.
"This…feels right. In a way I haven't felt in a long, long time," said the once-demon, allowing her new wings to settle around her shoulders like a cape. "I'm not playing a part anymore. This is me."
"Does that mean you're like us now?" asked Nagisa, who thankfully didn't seem to be holding against her that their last encounter had ended with Homura snatching away her soul and sticking it in a box. "You and your Witch are…"
"I don't really know what to call it. I'm not a Messenger, not exactly," Homura told the others, chancing a small glance toward the girl she loved. As expected, there was only genuine support and affection in those boundless golden eyes. "But Homulilly and I are…joined. She understands me. I understand her. Hopefully, that's enough."
"And you offered the same thing to Gretchen," stated Sayaka, turning to her best friend with a small frown. "Gotta say, that threw me for a loop. Are you sure that's such a good idea?"
"I'm not sure," Madoka admitted honestly. "But I don't see any other way that this stops. She's in pain, Sayaka-chan. And I know that pain. It's mine, after all."
"Ain't yer fault yer evil clone decided ta wreck shit across every fuckin' universe," replied Kyoko.
"I wouldn't call her…evil, exactly," said Madoka, biting her lip. Now that she was fully restored to her Goddess form, such personal tics only looked more bizarre (not to mention cute). "In the end, we both want the same thing. To save everyone we can. She's just…willing to go to far worse extremes to do it."
"That's our Madoka-san. Looking for the light even in the deepest darkness," Mami declared, her head dipped in respect. "I know not where this next battle may lead us. But we've gotten this far, working together. And we have more allies now than ever."
To emphasize the point, she squeezed Nagisa around the shoulders, eliciting a giggle from the younger girl.
"I know I haven't been with you as long as the rest, Madoka-senpai. But every last Messenger you ever saved stands with you now," she said. "We won't give up. You taught us that."
The Goddess gave a long, lingering stare at the girls in the distance. Homura was pretty sure she could guess what she was thinking.
She'd done her best to offer the Messengers a new life, beyond all the fighting. Each of whom was getting ready to fight a war they had no guarantee of winning.
Because they believed in her.
"I don't wanna be a cynic, but Cleopatra had a point. We've got hundreds of soldiers, she's got trillions," Sayaka let out a sigh. "Is that why you wanted to come here? Try to find something to even the scales? I know the Incubators were, like, pure mana, so maybe their planet has…"
But Madoka cut her off with a firm shake of her head. "That was one idea I had. But it's completely tapped out. The soil's been drained of magic," she muttered, fists clenching in the white sands that made up most of the planet's surface. "And no doubt she's done the same to every universe she can access."
Homura watched the Goddess' chest slowly rise and fall. Since she didn't actually need to breathe, and there wasn't oxygen on this world even if she tried, it must've been more reflex than anything else.
Still, she extended one of her wings outward, allowing it to gently wrap around Madoka's own. The other girl smiled sweetly at the gesture.
In and of itself, that made this new form worth it.
"The other reason I wanted to come here…" she said after a while. "Is because this might be the last moment of peace we get for a while. I don't know how this battle will go. I just know I need all of you by my side when we face it."
"Hope herself, gettin' all doubtful? Now I seen everythin'," Kyoko teased. "Nah, but seriously…yer gonna get through this. Ya both always do. It's been a long time since I had somethin' ta believe in…but what's between the two o' ya? It's the real deal."
As she spoke those last few words, her fingers ghosted over the Soul Gem on her chest. For the first time, Homura realized that its shape had changed slightly when she became a Messenger – becoming more clearly a cross.
Sayaka, meanwhile, leaned forward, and pecked her partner on the lips.
"Oh, and Transfer Student?" she remarked with a sideways grin. "We are so going on a double-date after this is all over. Your treat, obviously."
Homura was torn between the low groan that came out of her mouth, almost automatically, and a stupid chuckle she had to fight to keep down.
"I guess that's fair," she said, forcing her expression to remain neutral. "But that means I pick the venue, Extinguisher Girl."
"That…is a terrible nickname," answered Sayaka. "And I kinda love it?"
All six girls were still for several moments, before simultaneously descending into a fit of very silly giggling.
It was the first time, in so very long, that Homura could remember laughing like this. It felt amazing.
Still, this respite couldn't last for long. They all watched Anastasia run up, clutching onto her long, flowing robes.
"Jaya's managed to reconnect. They're on the move," she said, panting. "We're out of time, Моя богиня."
"Thank you. We'll be there soon," Madoka told the Grand Duchess. "Please tell all the girls with teleportation powers to get ready. 420 million lightyears is a long way, even for my magic. If I can piggyback off them, we might still make it."
Anastasia bowed her head and ran off to relay the message, still struggling not to trip over her too-long robes.
"Even after all this time, it feels…strange to be giving instructions like that," admitted the Goddess after she left. "But that's the role I signed up for – again. And all the rules that come with it."
Homura's eyes suddenly shot wide open.
She didn't know how to describe what she felt in that moment. As if everything they'd just discussed – everything they'd been discussing since they connected in that dingy old orphanage – crystallized at once, all of it suddenly so clear.
"That wouldn't work. That couldn't work…could it?" she mumbled, mostly to herself.
But Madoka clearly still heard, her brow furrowed. "Did you have an idea?" she asked.
The hope in her voice made it impossible for Homura to deny her. No matter how much of a longshot this was.
She beckoned the girl she loved forward, and whispered in her ear.
Madoka stood there for several moments, her divine features inscrutable. Then, finally, she reached forward, and took both of Homura's hands in hers.
"If that's your plan, then I believe in it," she said, with far more confidence than Homura herself felt. "So come with me, Homura-chan."
She closed the distance, and gave the former Devil one last, lingering kiss.
"Come with me, and let's save everyone."
[-]
Kriemhild Gretchen was done with waiting.
Following the confrontation with her Origin, she'd hedged her bets and elected to gather as many Witches as possible before pressing forward. There was no point in rushing the final steps – not when so much was at stake.
After all, once she crushed the barrier around this universe's Kamihama City, the last unsaved humans in existence would at last be in her grasp.
Still, her mission would not be complete without defeating her Origin, and rescuing the Magical Girls she'd stolen from her. The sting of that injustice still burned in the Witch's craw. She would not, could not rest, until they were all returned safely to her flock.
And restored to the blissful, peaceful ignorance of being Witches.
She knew, in the end, that the failure was partially her fault. She'd been far too…cautious. Delaying the moment of their confrontation, fearing that direct contact between their souls would be enough for – well, for precisely what ended up happening.
The only limits upon her Origin's power were the limits she believed it to have. Her Wish gave her absolute authority over Witches, and no matter how much Gretchen had worked to transcend that status…
She'd destroyed her once, and she could do it again.
Gretchen's only chance was to become the sole claimant to the Law of Cycles' throne. To prove that she was far worthier of the title of "Savior" than a pathetic little girl, who'd abandoned her duties to play house with a faux-Devil.
This would be the ultimate proof. Her Origin had left this universe to rot on its own, out of some poorly placed sentimentality. If Gretchen could save it…
There would no longer be any doubt. Kriemhild Gretchen was the Goddess this poor, diseased multiverse deserved. She alone could bring it peace.
Alongside the greatest army ever built across space and time.
They spanned out in every direction, choking the solar system she'd been cast into once the Law of Cycles stretched to its breaking point. Enough to darken stars and swallow planets. Even a fraction would be enough to overtake the final Earth that stood in her path.
All preparations were complete. The only step left was to give the order.
"If she will not appear to oppose me, then I'll force the issue," she said harshly, gesturing toward the Witch of Silence. "Giovanna, guide us."
The Witch that had once been Iroha Tamaki had no choice but to obey. Soundlessly she began to fly, leading the train of corruption toward her planet of origin.
Even though the mind within was technically a Magical Girl – and thus subject to her Origin's foolishness, while here in her home universe – she was trapped within the body of her all-too-human counterpart. There would be no escape from Salvation.
Not for her…
And not for anyone who shared her world.
They moved at speeds far beyond what any mortal technology was capable of, passing scores of nebulae and stellar dust in less than the blink of an eye. Gretchen's forward procession was animated with the urgency of purpose. With the certainty that she knew her path was the righteous one.
And she was about to prove it.
The Salvation Witch didn't so much see as feel the approach of her long-awaited foe. Their mutual connection to the Law of Cycles meant that neither could hide from the other.
As tempting as it would've been to continue her momentum unabated, and slam into the Goddess with the force of a million exploding suns, Gretchen chose to slow her advance. Loath as she was to admit it, her Origin had earned a chance at fair combat.
Gretchen looked upon the Witches who flanked her on either side, and couldn't help a cruel leer from sneaking itself onto her face.
"Well…" she whispered to herself. "For a given definition of 'fair.'"
Slowly, as if the universe itself could sense the tension between them and was dragging this moment out as long as possible, the Goddess took form. Like Gretchen herself, she'd chosen to manifest at a size large enough to hold a planet in her palm, her white dress shimmering and flowing in the solar wind.
She was joined by her paramour, her span and width just as enormous. The two of them were posed back-to-back, wings of pale pink twisting and melding with ones of ebony, so that it was difficult to see where one ended and the other began.
A singular figure, in two parts. It was almost beautiful, in a way.
Gretchen would have the same, soon enough. Once Homulilly was back in her arms.
"So, my Origin. You've arrived at last," she said boomingly.
Despite her restored divinity, the Goddess' words still sounded as if they were spoken by the meek, pathetic human they'd both once been.
"I won't let you go any further," she declared. "And if this is the only way to get you to end this madness, then so be it."
"You believe you two are enough to stop us? ALL of us?" Gretchen hissed back. She threw her arms out, gesturing to the teeming throngs of Witches that blanketed the space behind her. "I have dominion over EVERY soul that was denied by your system. Do you truly not realize what that means?"
If her Origin wasn't broken by witnessing the sheer numbers that stood in her path, then perhaps a more targeted approach would work better. Gretchen silently beckoned a handful of the closest Witches forward.
"Perhaps you already recognize the vanguard I've chosen to lead my final victory," she added with a sneer.
A few seconds passed, before golden eyes the size of moons went wide with anguish.
"Mama. Papa…" she whispered, looking upon a Witch sloughed with alcohol and other themed after tomatoes. "Tatsuya…my aunties…Hitomi-chan…Kyosuke-kun…"
But rather than break down, the Goddess reached out for her lover, who held her even tighter. She swallowed, face instantly refilled with resolve.
"If you think it's a weakness that I still care about them, just as much as when I was human…then you're dead wrong," she said. "They're just one more reason I need to bring an end to this. And save them from your false heaven."
"And you, former Devil?" Gretchen asked, rather than address that ridiculous claim directly. "Are you still so deluded, that you truly believe you can win?"
"I wouldn't count our side out just yet," replied the dark angel. "Madoka is the true Law of Cycles. And that means we have every Magical Girl in our corner."
Portals of shimmering energy appeared behind the two deities. Over each of their shoulders emerged Sayaka Miki and Kyoko Sakura on one side, and Mami Tomoe and Nagisa Momoe on the other.
Meanwhile, hundreds of Messengers stepped out of the rest of the portals, from tiny Teave to muscular Iolanda. Each and every one of them bedecked in their Magical Girls uniforms, weapons held at the ready.
The last to appear were the girls who weren't yet Messengers, and yet had been caught up in this mess nonetheless: Yachiyo Nanami and her friends, along with Mitama Yakumo. The former lingered over the sight of the enslaved Giovanna but said nothing, her azure eyes steeling harder with determination.
At any other time, it would've made for quite the impressive sight. But now they seemed a colony of ants, standing against a world-swallowing flood.
"You think these paltry numbers are enough to stop my Salvation?" Gretchen demanded harshly.
"I don't think you heard me the first time," said the once-demon, her silver eyes sparking alight. "I said every Magical Girl."
The number of portals exploded beyond measure.
[-]
They were all streaming through now – far too many to count. Yet Madoka knew them all, to one degree or another.
Magical Girls of every race and age and creed. Ones who had never been chosen as Messengers, but in the face of this great crisis, were willing to answer the call.
There were girls who looked like they dated back to prehistoric times. Ones visiting from a far future. Tall and short, muscular and rotund, tanned and pale. Smart girls and funny girls and girls who lived with a disability.
Many, in fact, were the same girl, united across different universes. There were hundreds of Sayakas and Kyokos and Mamis. Each of them contributing a small piece of the whole, to the versions of themselves who'd become her Messengers.
Some of the faces were more surprising than others. It was heartening to see Suzune walking alongside the other girls from Akanegasaki Middle School, and Oriko and Kirika standing together as well.
But even Alina (led reluctantly by the hand by a hyperactive Karin) and Sasa (conspicuously alone) made an appearance. Though, judging by the expressions on their faces, it might've had more to do with getting revenge on their former puppetmaster than aiding their rescuer.
All told, there were likely millions of Magical Girls joining them now. United from every part of the multiverse, in response to Madoka's solemn prayer.
And she wasn't nearly done yet.
"How…How are you doing this?" said Gretchen with a snarl. "This isn't possible! You aren't ALLOWED to…!"
"I am connected to every Magical Girl who has ever lived. Or who ever will," Madoka cut off her Witch, sweeping her titanic arms dramatically. "And it's true, there are strict rules on how I can use that connection."
"But I…" Homura continued for her, grasping the Goddess by both hands and mirroring her pose, so they looked like they were united in a ballroom dance. "Am the force that breaks those rules! And that means, when we combine our powers…"
"There isn't anything we can't do!" they finished in unison. The respective colors of their magicks peaked, and coursed through the network of portals, changing their hue.
Until a very different set of girls began to emerge.
Some of them, Madoka recognized from her time returned to Earth, ignorant of her true nature.
There was Doctor Tenjou, her therapist, dressed in a military-like uniform and dancing with her wife in a waltz. She dipped the darker-skinned woman backward, and from each other's chests they drew glinting, duelist's rapiers.
Or that strange pair they met on the bus, quite literally exploding into new uniforms in a flash of cross-like stars: the brunette in an exaggerated parody of a bancho, and her girlfriend in a red-and-black number that left absolutely nothing to the imagination.
Kagari-san from the restaurant, and a pretty blonde who must've been her wife, raced out of their portal on broomsticks, both of them holding magic wands aloft and casting their surroundings in an earthy green glow.
Next was Fakir and his duck friend, who in a graceful pirouette transformed into a pretty young girl, dressed in a ballerina's tutu. Another boy with white hair appeared to send off a similarly dressed girl, whose costume was black but just as beautiful.
Those foreign girls made an appearance, dressed in uniforms with brown jackets and wires to support their weight. The blonde drew a pair of razor-sharp swords, while her partner didn't hesitate in biting down on her own hand. A flurry of lightning surged through the void of space, turning her into a misshapen giant with enormous jaws.
Then there were dozens more whom she'd only seen at a glance, wandering the halls of their school or the streets of Mitakihara. Faces that were strange and yet so, so familiar.
A dark-skinned girl surrounded by auras of earth, fire, air, and water, accompanied at her side by a beautiful young woman wielding electrified gloves.
A businesswoman in a plain white work shirt, who offered a lingering hug to a girl in maid cosplay – before that maid transformed into an enormous, fire-breathing dragon.
Four girls whose costumes were hued red, white, black, and yellow, wielding a variety of flashy weapons that were all, somehow, also guns.
Another girl held a shining sword aloft, causing her to transform in a flash into an armored warrior with flowing, golden hair. She sat astride a winged unicorn, accompanied by a girl with ears and fur like a cat.
Kagari-san and her wife were offered flying high-fives by another pair on broomsticks, one Hispanic and the other with dyed purple hair. The first flashed a set of paper sigils like they were playing cards, while the latter summoned a number of minions out of purple goop.
Next came a couple of tall, voluptuous women, stepping through their portal with the confidence and poise of runway models. Then, in what could only be described as a flurry of hair, they summoned enormous beasts to aid them, each one more than a match for the Witches in fury and ferocity.
A cutesy blonde and a Goth girl with purple bangs released small sprite-like creatures, which enveloped them in what for all the world looked like superhero costumes: the former themed after a pig, and the latter a tiger.
Ethereally glowing weapons, one an axe and the other a chainlike sword, clashed together in a plume of fire. Their wielders – a short woman in elaborate crimson armor and a green-haired one with a blank stare – raised the banner of a black eagle behind them.
The next woman also had flowing green hair, and would've been striking enough thanks to her pink, feathery wings. Yet for whatever reason, she'd also chosen to appear to the battle naked as the day she was born. Her purple-haired partner was thankfully tamer.
But then, it was hard to top the brunette who, with an outsized look of bravado, summoned a tiny bump of earth before her – if only because of the sheer number of companions she had on her arms, both male and female.
The figures grew increasingly weirder from there. A young woman with soft pink skin and hair topped with a crown, wielding a number of high-tech weapons, and another with gray skin and an axe-shaped guitar. A very pale blonde in a hotel bellhop uniform, wreathed in flames and accompanied by a girl with a spear and eyepatch. A number of strange beings whose bodies formed from gemstones, only to combine a moment later into a single giant, multi-armed woman.
And that wasn't even getting into the surprising number of small, anthropomorphized horses.
Some of them, conversely, looked like relatively normal people. A blue-haired girl wielding knives, her arms splayed out to protect a redhead in a school uniform. Two young women with firearms, whose only unnatural features were the blonde's glowing hand, and the brunette's glowing eye. A freckled girl in a hooded sweatshirt, her palm raised as if focusing intently on something, while her companion with dyed blue hair and a necklace of bullet casings clung tightly to her arm.
Most oddly of all, a pair of policewomen who, strange as it might sound, looked like someone had split her false aunt in two – both wielding futuristic guns that unfolded like a puzzle box.
Dozens upon dozens of girls fit that mold – apparently human, brandishing normal everyday weapons or even nothing at all. Madoka caught Kashiwazaki-san from the arcade within the lineup, alongside a similarly dressed girl with black hair and a harsh glare.
But all of them had one thing in common: each girl was clutching lovingly onto the hand of another, looking equally as determined as their more conventionally powerful peers.
Still others would've looked bizarre in any other context, but here among so many similarly dressed girls, looked right at home. Five multicolored girls with auras of flowers came forward, led by a pink-haired girl armed like a brawler and a black-haired sniper in a wheelchair. Another five wore costumes resembling fairies, each one flying up with their insect-like wings and calling forth an elemental ability.
There was a pair of young girls wielding cartoonish magic wands which, inexplicably, seemed to possess the power of speech – one with white hair and the other black. One with a blank expression, whose almost garishly stereotypical pink costume contrasted with her partner's incredibly skimpy "demon girl" outfit (which she looked thoroughly embarrassed by). And two more whom Madoka vaguely recognized from a singularity that'd once crossed over with their own universe; a girl with reddish-brown hair and a twin-tailed blonde.
And finally, at long last, came the ones who would've given up the ghost entirely, had Madoka seen them walking about when her mind was still sealed.
Over a dozen generations of Pretty Cure, filling the vacuum of space with glittering magic in every color imaginable. Sakura Kinomoto, leaping into the air and twirling the Clow Staff with a delighted laugh, while Tomoyo filmed her from below. Kiki soaring high on her broomstick, as her black cat Jiji held on for dear life.
Then, the faces Madoka had been most anticipating…
Every single Sailor Guardian stood tall and strong, Uranus and Neptune holding each other close as they took point. Usagi Tsukino held out the Legendary Silver Crystal and attempted to strike her signature pose, though tripped over her feet halfway through. She waved to Madoka with an embarrassed smile, and the latter was suddenly forced to wonder whether goddesses were allowed to descend into fangirlish squeeing.
There were dozens of others beyond them, whom Madoka fuzzily recognized from anime history books borrowed from her nerdy father. Sally and Akko-chan, Momo and Creamy Mami, Lalabel and Tickle, Chacha and Wedding Peach.
The final pair to appear had a special glow about them, for they were among the few native to this reality. A girl with black, braided hair and red spectacles, a gleaming shield strapped to her arm. Holding close to another whose hair, eyes, and costume radiated a rosy pink.
The Homura and Madoka of this aberrant record, the only iterations not to be absorbed into the Law of Cycles, each gave a determined nod to their divine selves.
All in all, the sheer diversity on display was breathtaking. Every era, every color and style and magical ability imaginable was represented.
Some of them fit the label better than others. But there was a reason Homura had connected with each of them, consciously or unconsciously, when her powers went out of control.
Whatever their origin, whatever their mission or creed; whatever the nature of their supernatural abilities, or even if they possessed none at all. Every summoned heroine had at least one trait in common, that made them worthy of the title.
"We are Magical Girls!" Madoka cried out, as a billion other voices echoed her in support. "And that means we fill the world with the things that make life worth living!"
"Hope!" said Homura, fully matching the girl she cherished in fervor and intensity. "And Love!"
Every gathered Magical Girl chorused at once, a symphony calling out for justice. Each one summoned forth all the power they could muster, letting it flow into the Goddesses who had lent them renewed purpose.
With that power, Madoka and Homura called forth a new bow – far greater than any they'd ever wielded on Earth. A bow that was designed to only ever fire a single arrow.
The arrow surged through the galaxy, until all that could be seen was the brilliant, blinding light of Hope itself. And of Hope's most cherished, inseparable companion…
Love.
[-]
Kriemhild Gretchen was alone once more.
In and of itself, she was used to such a thing. Depending on how one counted time, she had spent longer than the age of any individual universe, watching their progress in solitude.
But now, that loneliness meant something else. It meant she had failed.
Somehow, instinctually, she knew that every one of her transformed Witches had been restored to their original states. All of them, along with the Magical Girls who formed their opposition, returned to their home universes.
Her Origin had known she had no chance of vanquishing Gretchen in a battle of pure force. So she'd eschewed the concept entirely. Made it a conflict of philosophies and ideals.
One where Hope had triumphed over Despair. And where the Love of two fragile, human girls had eclipsed that of their Witches.
She'd been so close. So close. But the infinite worlds she'd sought to save were lost to her now.
And so was Homulilly.
Perhaps it was a small thing, compared to the fate of literal trillions. But it was the blow that stung worst of all.
After endless eternities spent apart, the Nutcracker and Salvation Witches had been on the cusp of uniting as one. Of ruling together over a multiverse that was at peace at last, granting every one of its denizens the happiness they deserved.
Her betrayal had changed all that. Sent them all careening down this current path, helpless to change course.
Thus, Gretchen floated on through the void of space. Devoid of any purpose or direction, for it all had been stolen from her.
Yes…truly alone, once more.
"She didn't betray you."
The voice was her own, but cool and melodious, in a way Gretchen could only ever pretend to be.
When she opened her crimson eyes, it was to meet ones that, apart from their golden hue, were identical in every way.
Her Origin had shrunken down to a size only a little larger than her human form. Which meant Gretchen must've matched it. She chanced a glance down to her own hands, and found them meek and delicate. No miasma of corruption surrounded them; no magical power at all.
Homura Akemi, naturally, was hovering over her partner's shoulder. The two of them seemed joined at the hip now, perfectly in tune with one another's movements.
Gretchen slowly tilted her head around. There was no one else – Magical Girl, Witch, or human – to be found in any direction.
In this entire solar system, there was only a Goddess, a former Devil, and a Witch. The former of whom had stowed away any arms, and was looking upon her corrupted self with an expression of unending patience.
Before her, Gretchen was helpless.
"Come to gloat, have you?" she spat. "Before you end me, at least tell me what just happened. I need to understand how I lost. I thought they were all just…illusions. Cast by a self-deluded Devil."
"They were, and they weren't. It took me a long time to understand it, too," said Homura solemnly. "It's true that my subconscious…cast them in these roles. But it didn't pull them together from whole cloth. Without meaning to, I was tapping into Madoka's ultimate power – the power to Connect."
"The Law of Cycles touches every single universe. Wherever the concept of Hope exists, so do I," added her Origin. "Stories have power, Gretchen. They can bring us that Hope when nothing else can. That's something Homura-chan and I have in common."
"I was…so lonely, pretending at being the Devil. So torn up inside," Homura told the Witch. "I retreated to the same things that always gave me comfort: stories of love between girls. And so my powers reached out, and found the places where those stories were…were real. In every way that counts."
"But those weren't all Magical Girls," Gretchen argued back. "She shouldn't have any power over them."
"I disagree," Madoka stated simply. "Magical Girls are more than just shiny trinkets and catchphrases and transformation sequences. To me they're…an ideal. One that says there's real power in things like Hope, and Love, and kindness and honesty and friendship. Far more power than in a fist or a blade."
"Is it any wonder, then, that in the face of such power…" asked Homura. "So many of them wind up sharing that love with each other?"
"You were part of me when I was a child. You know how much it affected me, watching Sailor Moon on those lazy afternoons. How it captivated my imagination," said Madoka. "I never forgot that feeling. Becoming a Magical Girl…meant everything to me. It helped me find who I am. Find the girl I love. And now…"
She swallowed, and then whispered, "I want it to help me find my way back to you."
Gretchen's expression didn't change as she let these words wash over her.
Now, at least, she understood. Not that it made things any better.
"In that case…what are you waiting for?" she demanded coldly. "You've won, which means you can claim your prize. I'm ready."
"No, you're not," spoke Homura. "And we're not leaving until you are."
"I know you hate me. And I know that, because I used to hate myself," Madoka said softly. "Every last, little wound I inflicted on my own heart…wound up passing along to you. That wasn't fair, and it wasn't right. So I'm here to fix it."
"You don't know what you're talking about," the Salvation Witch hissed in return, although without any real conviction. Objectively, she was about the only person who could know.
The truth was…Gretchen simply didn't want to hear it.
"Every day, growing up, I told myself the same things inside my head. 'You're worthless.' 'You're pathetic.' 'Nobody wants you around,'" her Origin continued on, ignoring the interruption. "I would see so many amazing people around me, and feel like…like I'd never measure up to them. That I'd always be nothing but a burden. I'd chant those words over, and over, and over."
She cast a brief glance to the girl at her side, and then breathed out, "I did it so much, it became like a reflex. I didn't even realize how unhealthy it was. Until…Until I saw the girl I loved doing the exact same thing."
Homura Akemi remained still for a long time, floating amongst the stars. Summoning up the courage to admit something she'd held inside for a very long time.
"I…have depression. I'm depressed," she finally murmured. "I have been for a long time. I still am. And that's not going to change overnight."
"I don't know if I'm ready to diagnose it yet. But I know I'm…similar," said Madoka. "Both of us, we…we're sick. And instead of working on that sickness, we passed it on to you and Homulilly. Left you to face the burdens of our own mistakes."
"DON'T YOU DARE SPEAK HER NAME!" Gretchen screamed.
The Goddess folded her hands together, apparently unbothered by the outburst.
"It's not going to be easy. But the first step is admitting the problem," she replied quietly. "We both tried to get around our issues by becoming something…inhuman. As if that would magically fix everything. Of course, magic doesn't work that way. It isn't a shortcut for the real work we need to do."
"I've…tried to take that first step. And she agreed," Homura declared. "But like Madoka said, it wasn't a betrayal. Do you know the last thing she asked me for? Her final, desperate Wish?"
"She wanted us to save you. And so, we will," said Madoka, her divine features filling with even greater determination than she'd shown in the final battle. "No matter how long it takes."
Kriemhild Gretchen's scarlet eyes narrowed icily.
"You may certainly try."
[-]
True to their words, they didn't rush her.
Gretchen had lost track of how much time the three of them had spent in this far-flung corner of the Milky Way. She supposed "time" wasn't really a concept that applied to any of them.
And for all those weeks, months, years…
All they'd done was talk.
They talked about the lives Madoka Kaname and Homura Akemi had lived as humans, so very long ago. Even after a hundred shared lifetimes, there were apparently still many details they'd never managed to share with one another. Details that brought them even closer.
"I was almost adopted once from the orphanage, you know. Just once," said the black-haired girl at one point. "I was nine. They put me in my nicest dress, and we did the interview, and it went great. The couple wanted a girl who was quiet and studious, and I could pull that off at least."
"What happened?" the Goddess asked.
"They took one look at my recent medical bills, and then they couldn't get out of there fast enough," Homura replied with a sigh. "I didn't blame them. At that point, I was spending almost half the year in hospital beds. Not a lot of people would want to sign up for that."
"Maybe, but…it doesn't change how you must've felt," stated a frowning Madoka. "I'm sorry you had to go through all that. I…I know it's made it harder to let people into your life."
"It's still hard to accept there are people who can know the real me, and not run away," spoke Homura, nodding once. "Not just you, but Sayaka Mi…Sayaka. Sayaka and Kyoko and Mami."
The once-demon buried her face in her gloved hands. "Do you realize I still do that?" she added in a lower voice. "I have to make a concerted effort to refer to them without using their full names. It was a technique I used to dehumanize them – to make me care less when they inevitably died. How fucked up is that?"
"Homura-chan, we've talked about this," said Madoka. "You own up to what you've done…but you don't let it define you. It's your future that matters, not your past."
Homura offered another slow, solemn nod. "Thank you, Madoka," she muttered.
For the most part, Gretchen only listened to these exchanges, convincing herself that she didn't care. That it was all one, extended torture session, forcing her to bear these inanities before her inevitable destruction.
But then, somewhere along the way, she found herself sharing some things too.
"It was…agony, to watch them. To be on the edge of all these worlds, witness to their pain but unable to help," she admitted. "Nonexistence was simultaneously freeing and stifling. I could go anywhere I wanted, but merely as a fly on a windowsill. That's why I needed your power. Without it, I am nothing – literally."
"Don't say that. That's my own terrible self-esteem talking, and you know it," said her Origin. "Do you realize how incredible it is, when that was what tore you up inside? Wanting to help people? Even though you're a Witch, the core of you is…it's still good. I can see it."
"Only because I exist as your shadow. No more, and no less," Gretchen shot back. "If my cause was the more righteous one, I would've won our clash. I failed, and so should be disposed of. It is the natural order of things."
"I know better than anyone how…difficult it is when you're a Witch. To keep things in perspective. It goes against every instinct you have," Homura told her, hands crossed over the heart where her love now slumbered. "But you need to see that you and Madoka aren't working at cross purposes. You want the same thing. And you can accomplish it better together…than you ever did apart."
Gretchen shook with genuine fury. "She desires to save a few paltry scraps! To hang drapes across a broken window, and say that's good enough!" she exclaimed. "You would dare compare that to my Salvation?!"
She made outbursts like that all the time, and the most infuriating thing of all was how the pair of deities never seemed to lose patience with her over it.
Still, even she was thrown by what her Origin chose to say next: "You're right."
The Witch stared on in shock as the Goddess continued her confession.
"My solution was deeply flawed, from the start. It was better than the Incubators' system…but not by enough," she said. "And that never would've changed, I never would've even questioned it…if you two hadn't forced my hand."
Madoka reached forward, slowly, like she was coaxing a feral animal. Until her hands were wrapped gently around ones that matched them precisely.
"That's why I need you. So that I never again lose sight of the things you represent," she finished, offering a smile as warm as the sun. "I know you think of joining with me as…as your end. But it isn't. It'll be a new beginning – for both of us."
The Witch of Salvation cast her eyes askance, suddenly unable to look her Origin in the eye.
"I…" her voice came out a strangled, hoarse whisper. "Will give it some thought."
[-]
They were joined, from time to time, by some of her Origin's Messengers.
Sayaka Miki, Kyoko Sakura, and Mami Tomoe were by far the most common, but several of the others made the occasional appearance. Their visits were always brief, generally only showing up long enough to check in on things and ensure their Goddesses were okay.
Clearly, not all of them trusted Gretchen not to – somehow – use this opportunity to pull off another trick. She couldn't really blame them, since she'd been constantly scheming how to do precisely that.
But her Origin wasn't unintelligent. She'd learned from their encounters, and closed every loophole she could. Gretchen was completely at her mercy.
And annoyingly…mercy was the one thing Madoka Kaname would always have in abundance.
"I want you to tell me what it's like," Gretchen demanded, during one of these visits. "Those of you who have…as she puts it, 'made peace' with your Witches. How does it feel?"
"Incredible," Mami was the first to answer. "All of my life – all of my lifetimes – I've been running from the darker parts of myself. Pretending they don't exist and pushing them down, so I could maintain the mask of the 'mature senpai.' And over and over again, that struggle broke me."
The blonde swallowed, fingers fidgeting over the Soul Gem in her hair.
"To break that cycle, I needed to learn to love myself. Every part of myself," she added in a lower voice. "And that includes Candeloro."
"I was runnin' too," said Kyoko. "It was easier than gettin' close ta anyone, riskin' that I might lose 'em. The way I los' my firs' family."
She leaned in close to Sayaka. "It's thanks ta Ophelia that I got the courage ta do this again," she breathed out, her voice growing firmer with conviction with each word. "Ta…Ta love again."
The blue-haired girl smiled softly, accepting the kiss offered by her partner. It was brief, and chaste, but filled with so much meaning.
After their lips parted, she cleared her throat and told the Salvation Witch, "I've been in this situation the longest…uh, depending on how you count time, anyway. Guess it's different for you guys than for us. Point is, connecting with Oktavia was the best damn thing to ever happen to me."
She drew one of her swords, brandishing it in a stereotypically "knightly" pose.
"I used to playact at being a great big 'hero of justice.' But when the slightest thing made a dent in that image, I crumbled," she said. "I convinced myself that natural, human emotions like anger and envy made me a monster, unworthy of love. I'm not saying those problems have completely gone away. But now that Oktavia and I are one, I can deal with them in a healthier way. And finally heal, a little bit at a time."
"That is…interesting to hear," Gretchen spoke noncommittally. "And what about you?"
These words were directed toward Homura Akemi, who nodded slowly. Mustering her strength to offer an answer that was neither easy nor simple.
"We…are just at the beginning of our journey together. Homulilly and I," she responded. "So I can't say where we're going to end up. But simply that first step, it…it meant so much."
She took in a long intake of breath, despite the lack of it anywhere here in deep space. But she was an angel of darkness now; a deity of contradictions and impossibilities.
It was how she'd beaten her, after all.
"My story has been one of repetitions and echoes. Since the moment I first turned back the hands of time," she said. "Right now feels like the first time in…forever, that I can move forward. That's scary, honestly. But it's also liberating."
The once-Devil formed her Soul Gem in her palms, now restored to something closer to its original state. Yet the chaotic, rainbow energy of corruption still flitted occasionally across its surface – never completely gone, but small enough to be manageable.
"We didn't force her. And we won't force you, either," murmured Homura. "But she wouldn't have accepted this fate…if she didn't want the same thing for you. She loves you, Gretchen. And she always will."
The pause that followed was long enough, and heavy enough, to crush boulders to dust.
Until finally, the Witch of Salvation declared, "Leave me, please. I will come to you, my Origin…when I have made my final decision."
[-]
Madoka chose to give her Witch the space she'd asked for. Maybe there was a risk there, but she would shoulder it.
If she wanted Gretchen to trust her, then she needed to offer the same in turn.
She knew she'd been away from the Law of Cycles for a long time, but it wouldn't actually matter in the end. Because of her non-linear nature, once she returned she would've always been there. Which meant she could devote all the time in the world to rehabilitating her own Witch.
She had no guarantee that it would work. But she'd turned a Devil in the end, hadn't she?
As the embodiment of Hope itself, all she could do was believe.
Homura stayed by her side the entire time, of course, as they awaited Gretchen's answer. She doubted they would ever be apart for very long again. Their destinies had always been intertwined, and their recent tribulations had only bound them closer still.
That might've bothered the pink-haired Goddess a bit, if not for how obscenely, desperately in love with this girl she was.
"No matter what happens, Madoka…I'm with you. Always," said the girl who had once been a demon. "I don't know how things will change with the Law of Cycles, if I join you up there. But I'm willing to find out. There's no one I'd rather spend eternity alongside."
"You know, Homura-chan…" Madoka couldn't help but tease a bit. "Some people might hear that, and think it sounds sort of like a marriage proposal."
She was pleased to see that divinity hadn't made a blushing, flustered Homura any less cute.
But before the black-haired girl could get a word in edgewise, Madoka captured her lips in a brief but searing kiss. The first one they'd shared since the grand battle – and hopefully, far from the last.
"And if it is…" she whispered, without pulling away. "Then I do. I do, I do, I do."
The bright, genuine smile that appeared on the other girl's face made all their struggles worth it in an instant. Madoka was looking forward to seeing so, so many more.
"Apologies for breaking up such a tender scene," her own voice cut through the void of space, causing the Goddess and her Dark Angel to pull apart hastily. "But I've made my decision."
Kriemhild Gretchen appeared as she always did – in a Gothic facsimile of her own outfit, with eyes the color of blood – and yet there was something different about her now. Maybe it was her body language, which was peaceable and reserved.
For the first time since the moment of her birth, the Witch of Salvation had no need to fight. Only to speak.
And so, Madoka readied herself to listen.
"I…have chosen to accept your terms. To become one with you, my Origin, as my love did with yours," said Gretchen. "But only on one condition."
"What is it?" asked the Goddess.
Her Witch drifted forward through the vacuum, slowly, until they were face to face.
"It does not have to be today, or tomorrow. You may choose the methods you employ, rather than resorting to the same extremes as I," she began to explain. "But one day, in the fullness of time…I want us to create a system which saves EVERYONE."
Gretchen's features, so much like Madoka's own but weathered by such deeper pain, were tensed with conviction.
"Rich and poor, young and old. Male and female and all genders in between. Every universe, and every era of time," she continued, quietly but firmly. "No matter if they may seek it through the power of Magical Girls, or elsewhere, or even not at all…each and every one deserves Salvation. And we will give it to them."
Madoka looked upon her double for several moments, letting these words wash over her. And then, slowly, a gentle grin spread over her face.
"Is that all?" she said. "Because that's exactly what we were going to do."
"What?" hissed her Witch, clearly taken aback.
"I told you, I know that the Law of Cycles isn't a perfect system. It was a start, but not the end," she told her. "Redesigning it will…take time. I can't promise how quick it'll be. But I know we're the right souls for the job. You, me, Homura-chan…and Homulilly."
"Well then…" Gretchen started to respond in turn. Then, for the first and last time her expression became identical to that of her Origin: a sincere, genuine smile. "I suppose we had better get started."
The Goddess and the Witch took their positions, linking hands and arms. Staring determinedly into one another's eyes.
As the only other occupant of this distant galaxy, Homura Akemi served as witness. Along with the Nutcracker Witch, who dwelt now in the deepest part of her heart.
"Thank you for making this choice, Gretchen," said Madoka. "I promise you, we're going to save them all. No matter how long it takes."
"Then I will hold you to that…" returned her Witch, her lip twitching upward. "Madoka."
Twin plumes of energy surged forth – both bearing a hue of bright pink, differing only in the experiences and histories that'd informed their divergent paths. Histories that would soon be known to them both.
The energies twisted and melded, getting to know one another in an intricate dance. Blending the profiles of the Goddess and her Witch as each slowly morphed in shape and form, becoming indistinguishable from one another.
Until, at long last…
Only one remained.
[-]
As they had near the Incubator homeworld, what seemed like a lifetime ago, Madoka's eyes slowly blinked open.
Thankfully, this time, they were met by her favorite sight in all the multiverse.
"I'm so glad you're okay, Madoka," said Homura tenderly. From the relative locations of their bodies, the Goddess realized she must've been lying in her lover's lap. "How do you feel?"
Madoka considered that question for a long time. Then, slowly, she hovered back to an upright position.
"I need to be able to see myself. Could you…?" she started to ask.
Before she could even finish the sentence, the black-haired girl had already used her magic to conjure a mirror. Madoka glanced into it, unsure what she expected to see.
For the most part, her form wasn't all that different. As Homura's Devil costume had changed to incorporate some lighter tones, her own dress had done the same with darker ones. No longer was it gleaming white and pure, but instead a patterned affair, reflecting the myriad of colors wielded by her friends and allies. Accents of black were ascendant however, causing the remaining white lace to stand out all the more starkly.
Next to Homura's Dark Angel form, the two were now clearly a matched set. Like a yin-yang symbol, with each element containing a core of the other.
But the greatest change was to her eyes. While one remained the same, shimmering with divine gold, the other had been imbued…
With Kriemhild Gretchen's deep crimson.
"I admit, that part's going to take some getting used to," said Homura. "But even so…Madoka, you've never looked more beautiful."
"It's perfect," Madoka murmured with a smile. "Because it's me. All of me."
"She's there, then? You can feel her?" replied the former demon.
Madoka slowly folded her hands over her heart, closing her eyes as if in prayer.
"She's a part of me. The way she always was. The way she always should've been," she confirmed with a nod. "And I can hear her voice, urging me on. To fulfill the promise I made. To never give up, so long as a single soul out there is still crying out for help."
Then, she held out a hand to the person she loved above any other, warm and inviting.
"This all started with a girl reaching out to a lonely transfer student, and offering to be friends," she said sweetly. "And even though there were a lot of rough patches along the journey…I wouldn't have had it turn out any other way."
Homura took the proffered hand, lacing their fingers together one by one.
"And where does that journey take us now?" she whispered back.
"Wherever we want," said Madoka, chuckling lightly. "We've got all the time in the world, literally. And we write our own destinies, from here on out."
The girl who had once been a Devil dipped her head forward, and placed her lips softly across her lover's knuckles. Like a knight in service to her lady.
"Then I'm with you, Madoka," she breathed out. "To the ends of the multiverse, and beyond them."
Madoka slowly lifted the other girl up by the shoulders, until they were facing eye-to-eye. Guiding those lips to hers, and offering a kiss far more intense than the last. One that was warmer than Hope, and deeper than Despair.
"But before any of that, Homura-chan…" she told her, every word bursting with pure, overwhelming love. "There's one place I'd like us to go first."
The Goddess and her dearest angel held each other close, drifting through a night of a thousand stars. Their hearts beating as one, whole and at peace at last.
"Let's go home."