Resonance Days

by TakerFoxx

Falling their mutual demise at each other's hands, Kyoko and Sayaka wake up in a strange world. Now, with Kyoko's soul gem missing and Sayaka's humanity and personality only partially restored, they must band together to survive.

43. Restless, Part 7

Restless, Part 7

Owing to his young age, there were a great many things that Jerky did not know.

He did not know why he was obviously of a different kind than Mother, nor did he care. Mother was Mother, and that was all that mattered.

He did not know why he was not permitted to show himself to Mother's pack, nor did he care. It was fun keeping out sight, as well as a great way to practice his stalking technique.

He did not know that he was a living creature of flesh and blood in a magical afterlife primarily inhabited by the souls of dead children from over a dozen different species, nor would he care even if he did know. Such details were other creatures' concern, not his.

He did not know that he was from a species known as "valks," which were one of the dominant predators from a planet inhabited mainly by predators. He did not know that Mother had helped murder his entire family, that on the day of his hatching, she had slaughtered his brothers and sisters and his real mother. He did not know that the tall, slender member of her pack had a deathly fear of his kind. He was, however, aware that Mother wished to mate with the one who was inexplicably part fish, and after having observed their bizarre courtship rituals from afar for several nights, was also a little perplexed as to why they hadn't done the deed yet. It was kind of frustrating, actually.

But another thing that he did not know was fear.

Valks simply had a different relationship with fear than most creatures. Save for the dockengauts themselves and a handful of other hazards, there was little that could actually threaten them, and Jerky had lived most of his life in human territories, which quite simply was nowhere near the dockengaut homeworld's level when it came to persistent threats. The animals were all soft and easy prey, and even the local predators simply could not compete, even with him being as young as he was. Sure, there had been times when he had been surprised or alarmed, but that never lasted long, and in every instance he had emerged wholly unhurt and further confident in his natural abilities. As for things like genuine dread, well, it was entirely an alien concept to him.

That was no longer the case.

Jerky crept deeper into the cave, all three eyes warily searching for any sign of a threat. He was scared; for the first time in his life, he was truly afraid. Something was wrong about the cave, something that he had no experience with whatsoever. He couldn't smell anything out of place, couldn't hear anything dangerous, and the place looked much the same as it had earlier.

But something was definitely wrong. He felt it in the very marrow of his bones.

Jerky whimpered. He didn't want to go further. There was something in that cave, something incredibly dangerous, and he felt that even his substantial abilities would be no match for it. He wanted to run, to run as fast as he could and not look back.

He couldn't though. Mother was still in there. He would not abandon her.

Whimpering again, Jerky slinked further into the cave, all the while wishing that he didn't have to.

…

All in all, they were an eclectic assemblage of freaks.

Sayaka Miki, Puella Magi, the dead girl that should not exist, who had succumbed to despair and self-loathing and became a witch, whose memory stopped at that moment, who by rights ought to be known only as Oktavia von Seckendorff, but whose mind, memories, and identity had been dragged out of whatever box they had been residing in, thrusting her into a world in which she did not belong.

Candeloro, the classic witch, one who had no memory of her former self, of her time as Mami Tomoe, but also should not exist, who had died as herself and thus never became a witch, who remembered only her time in the afterlife, and was now wondering if she was not better off for it.

Ophelia, the impossible witch, one who had lost her identity as the Puella Magi Kyoko Sakura, but who also retained her full memory, both of her previous life and everything that had come after.

And the dual being of Nozomi Momoe and Charlotte Tomoe, both witch and Puella Magi, who was in a constant state of flux, shifting between each, her body and abilities morphing from one to the other, and her two sets of memories each fading in and out in turn, never long enough for either to disappear completely, but it was still pretty disorienting, like she was constantly on the verge of blanking out.

None of them were who they were supposed to be. Some were fine with that, others intended to fix the problem as quickly as possible, but they all agreed that the current situation was not acceptable.

"So," Charlotte said. "What's our angle? What's the plan here?"

"Find the Rainbow Rasta," Ophelia answered. "Kill her. Get out of here."

Nozomi's right eyelid twitched. "Okay," she said. "But just for the record, I was really hoping for more of a detailed plan of attack instead of a list of vaguely stated goals."

"Are we sure she's behind this?" Candeloro said.

"Who else?" Ophelia responded. "Who else was in every one of our dreams that none of us has ever met?"

"Look, I agree that the culprit is probably the rude punk girl," Charlotte said, spreading her hands. "But what can we do about it? She's like…" Her voice trailed off.

"Yes?" Ophelia said.

"Hang on, I'll remember the name in a second." Nozomi Momoe fully faded in. "Freddy Krueger! She's like Freddy Krueger! How are we supposed to beat her?"

"Freddy who?" Candeloro said.

"Classic slasher villain," Ophelia told her. "Burned up guy who stalked and killed kids in their dreams."

Sayaka wrinkled her brow. "How do you know that? I thought you were some kind of church girl!"

"Saw them at a friend's house. Stayed up all night stuffing ourselves with pizza and soda and scaring the crap out of ourselves with old horror movies, best night ever!"

From the other end of the room came a sudden bang.

Everyone was on their feet in an instant, weapons drawn and at the ready, Ophelia in the front, Sayaka at her side, Nozomi right behind her, and Candeloro bringing up the rear.

Ophelia's eyes scanned the room, which was lit only by her flame. "Who's there?" she called. "Come on out, I have an ass kicking with your name on it!"

Charlotte cleared her throat. "Uh, threatening to kick someone's ass wouldn't exactly make them want to come out and-"

"Shut up, Charzomi."

"Shutting up."

Then Sayaka pointed with her sword and whispered, "Look…"

Something was scurrying across the ground along the wall, something small and multi-legged. As someone who had had some very bad experiences with small, scurrying creatures, Ophelia swallowed hard. Regular dockengauts were bad enough. Nightmare dockengauts were the last thing she wanted to see.

"Should I shoot it?" Candeloro said, taking aim.

"Hold on," Ophelia murmured. She took a step forward and tilted her head. Was that…"

"It's a…glove?" Sayaka said.

It was, a disembodied heavy leather glove, one that was crawling around on its fingertips. Or rather, its clawtips, as a metal blade had been welded to each of the fingers.

Ophelia recognized it immediately. "Oh, you have got to be shitting me," she growled.

The claw crawled over to the entrance to the hallway, and then turned to face the group. Everyone tensed up.

Then the glove flipped itself onto its back and raised its middle finger up at them, the point of the blade gleaming in the firelight.

There was a pause, and then Sayaka blurted out, "Well, hey! Screw you too!"

Then the glove flipped back onto its fingers and scrambled down the hall and through the slightly ajar door that led to the bedroom, which slammed behind him.

"Um, okay," Nozomi said as everyone straightened up. "What was that?"

"A message," Ophelia growled. "Our host is watching us. And fucking with us."

"With a…glove?" Candeloro said.

Ophelia sighed. "Look, it's Freddy Krueger's glove! It's what he uses to kill kids in the movies! Our host is showing that she's listening in on us right now!"

"Oh yeah?" Sayaka said as she glared up at the ceiling. "Well, straight back at you!" She flipped her own middle finger up high.

Snickering, Ophelia patted her on the shoulder. "Yeah, you tell 'em."

Sayaka blinked. And then she smiled back.

Ophelia's hand froze. She hastily pulled it back and cleared her throat. "Um, okay. So! Next step. What is it?"

Charlotte frowned. "I literally just asked you that."

"Right! Well, I guess we might as well do this the direct way." Taking in a deep breath, Ophelia cupped her mouth with both hands and yelled out, "HEY! ASSHOLE! We're here, we're ready, so let's do this! Open up the boss room already!"

Silence was her only response. They all looked around, listening. Then Sayaka said, "You really think that'll work?"

"It better," Ophelia growled. "Because if she went through all the trouble of leading us on and doesn't give us a fight, then I'll-"

Nozomi shushed her. "Shhh! Listen!"

They did, and Ophelia heard it immediately.

The rain had stopped.

Outside it had been consistently storming and storming hard, to the point where after a while she had stopped paying attention. But now the rain, lightning, and thunder had come to an end, leaving them in silence.

Then a low, deep rumble shook the house, causing the floor beneath their feet to tremble. "Oh, heck no!" Sayaka exclaimed as they all retreated back. "What is this?"

"Hold on!" Ophelia called. "Something's about to-"

The wall peeled away.

The entire far wall, with its massive full-length windows, opened like a flower, separating into six pieces that were curled back, opening the house to the sky.

Ophelia blinked. She glanced over her shoulder at her friends and then back out to the opening. Then, spear at the ready, she warily approached.

Though the storm had stopped raging outside, the sky was still dark, the sun choked out by a blanket of angry black clouds, an endless field of darkness stretching out to the far horizon.

Ophelia peeked her head out, a tiny candle in the dark. Nothing jumped out to challenge her.

"I don't like this," Sayaka said as she came to stand beside her.

"Me neither," Ophelia murmured. "We're still being played with."

That was when she saw light.

A soft, golden glow began to pierce through the shroud, beams of light breaking through like the Light of Heaven. The clouds simply melted in their wake, banished like so much cotton candy dissolved in water, flooding the city with light.

Sayaka started to step forward, so Ophelia held up an arm, blocking her. She glanced at her and shook her head. Sayaka nodded, and the two slowly backed away from the opening.

Then Charlotte blurted out, "Oh, give me a break. Is that music? Is she playing the freaking Heavenly Choir?"

It was. Beautiful, pure voices were singing together, an angelic choir pouring down from the heavens, the sort that would herald the coming of the Messiah.

And indeed, something was coming down from above, an orb of pure gold, gently descending down toward the city. Ophelia, who knew a thing or two of Messianic prophecy, was not comforted. If anything this coming was probably going to lean more toward Revelations than the Gospels.

It was then that she noticed that the angelic voices weren't just wordlessly chanting. There were actual lyrics, ones that were becoming clearer and clearer the lower the light got.

"Bum, bum, bum, bum, bum, bum, bum, bum, bum!"

"Wait," Sayaka said, her nose scrunching up. "I know that song. That's-"

"Mr. Sandman!"

Ophelia and Sayaka exchanged looks.

"Bring me a dream!"

"Oh, great," Nozomi sighed. "She thinks she's funny."

"Make her the cutest that I've ever seen."

Then the light paused, hovering just above and a few city blocks away from the house. And then it grew, expanding outward and taking shape, glowing tendrils forming the shape of a face, that of a teenaged girl, with sharp cheeks, braided hair, and almond-shaped eyes.

Then the glow faded, and there was only the face, an enormous face floating in the air, staring down at them.

It was the face of the rude punk girl, multicolored dreadlocks hanging around her visage, multiple piercings gleaming, eyes crinkled in amusement.

Her eyes. Ophelia hadn't noticed it before, but they too shone with every color in the rainbow, constantly changing like a kaleidoscope and shifting with evident madness.

The punk girl's face looked down at the small creatures gawking up at it. She smirked. Then she winked.

There was a loud blast, like a cannon shot, and multiple bolts of lightning, each a different color, shot down from the sky to strike at the city below, setting it aflame with rainbow fire. The golden sky flared up, making everyone flinch away, and when cleared the sky was shifting with the same colors of the punk girl's eyes, a visual acid trip that was nauseating to watch.

The heavenly sound of the Mr. Sandman stopped, but the music did not. Now they heard blaring guitars, smashing drums, and a growling female voice shouting out, "Don't give a damn about my reputation!"

"Oh, hey!" Nozomi said, lighting up. "Joan Jett. Nice."

Everyone turned to look at her.

"What?" she said, a little defensively. "I like rock music. Sue me."

Wincing, Candeloro covered her ears with the tips of her ribbons. "If you say so," she said.

And as this mad, colorful cacophony was going on, the huge face of the punk girl opened her mouth, exposing two rows of teeth the size of refrigerators, each of them dyed a different color, and her tongue slithered out, revealing a line of silver studs all the way down its length. Ophelia and her friends retreated as the glistening red muscle stretched further and further until it touched the edge of the house. It quivered and changed shape, the studs forming steps and the tongue becoming stairs all the way to the punk girl's open mouth.

"Well, okay," Sayaka said. "That's…not the weirdest thing I've seen recently. But you know what? It is up there."

"Now there's an invitation if I've ever seen one," Charlotte growled.

"Then let's not waste time," Ophelia said. "It's be rude to decline."

"Um," Candeloro said, sounding very unsure. "We do know that this is a trap, right? I mean, it is obvious."

"We've been caught in the trap this whole time," Ophelia told her. "Can't get out of the maze without seeing it to the end."

"Right. Except not every maze ends with escape. Sometimes they end with a gory demise."

"Then we break the maze. Kick ass like we've always done."

Nozomi cleared her throat. "Actually, what we mostly do is barely survive and just get away by the skin of our teeth."

"That'll have to do then." Ophelia sighed. She took an apprehensive step out and placed her foot on the first step.

It held. It was gross, but it held.

"Okay, let's go," she said as she made herself continue climbing. "And try not to get any drool on you."

Moments later the others followed, albeit with extreme reluctance.

…

As the dual being of Nozomi Momoe and Charlotte Tomoe ascended a stairway made of a gigantic tongue through a multicolored sky above a burning city while loud and aggressive metal music played, she reflected how important it was to have a strong sense of perspective.

Take herself, for instance. She now had two names and two sets of memories, which would be fine on its own if both existed simultaneously, but unfortunately they each kept trading off, each rising into prominence, becoming fully complete, only to fade away as the other grew. Neither dimmed enough to vanish completely: she retained a sense of the names and histories of both of her selves at all times, but when one was fully formed the other felt like a dim dream.

It would be enough to drive most people mad. The trick was to simply keep things in perspective.

There had been two parts of her life. She had lived for sixteen years in one, and then died. After that she had lived for another seven years as the other. Together, they made a complete twenty-three year old woman, one who had lived what one could call a pretty successful life so far. She had grown up in a home that, while not without its own problems and struggles, had been fairly happy. She had loved her mother, and her mother had loved her back. She had done well in school, had gotten pretty good grades, had been involved in a few clubs, had made some good friends, and all in all had done fairly well for herself. True, having her life uprooted and being forced to move in with strangers while in her mid-teens had been hard, but she had gotten used to it. And in the process of doing so, she had learned a valuable trade, met the love of her life, gotten married, inherited a lucrative business, and become a homeowner, all when she had been only twenty. And the three years since had been happy, healthy, successful, and fulfilling. So all in all, she was doing pretty good for herself!

It was just that transitional period in the middle that was causing a lot of bother. The part where her mom had died. The part where she had died. Which had been okay when she hadn't been able to remember it, but now she did, at least part of the time, and the details that were coming back to her were ones that she really rather had stayed forgotten.

Cake. A fucking cake!

Adding to the disorientation was that the two halves of her were reacting differently to the new knowledge. Nozomi was ashamed, just completely filled with chagrin and self-loathing over how stupid her decision had been. And Charlotte was aghast, even kind of infuriated. Sure, kids did dumb things, and Nozomi had been under a lot of stress at the time, but even so, a cake?

It was enough to make her seriously wonder if strangling herself would count as a suicide or a justifiable homicide.

Noticing that one hand had curled into a shaking fist, she let out a slow breath. Get a grip, she told herself. What's done is done. You're still the same person. Charlotte. Nozomi. What did Ophelia call me earlier? Charzomi. Yeah, that sounds good. I'm…we're…I'm Charzomi now. Accept what happened, accept who you are, and just move the hell on, before you lose your fucking-

"So. You're the one, huh?"

Blinking, Charzomi looked down to see Sayaka Miki standing on the step behind her, looking up at her with a very strange expression.

Charzomi still didn't know what to make of the new member of their party. She certainly didn't care to have her replaced Oktavia. She loved Oktavia. Oktavia had been her close friend and ally. She had fought by Oktavia's side, laughed and joked with her, and consoled her through some hard times.

But she didn't know Sayaka Miki. Sayaka Miki was new. And to be quite frank, she wasn't sure if she even liked Sayaka Miki.

"The one?" Charzomi said, her brow furrowing in puzzlement.

Sayaka's eyes flitted from Charzomi up to Candeloro, and then back at her. Her mouth set in a thin line.

That still didn't tell Charzomi what she wanted to know. The one who had married Candeloro? Was she taking exception to her former mentor marrying another girl? This had better not be some weird old-world homophobia, because Charzomi had exactly zero time for-

Oh.

Wait.

That.

Charzomi slowly breathed out. "This is about the head chomp thing, isn't it?"

Sayaka's lips thinned out even more, and she nodded.

"I see." Charzomi glanced briefly back toward her wife, who was still silently marching upward, lost in thoughts of her own. "Well, yes, once again, that was me." She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. "Is this going to be a problem?"

"Should it?" Sayaka said.

Fuck, she did not need this. "Look, Sayaka. You just got here, and you've had a lot thrown at you all at once, so I don't blame you for having trouble processing it. But me and Mami got over that whole thing a long time ago. It was not easy. She spent a long time struggling with the trauma and nightmares and everything, and I hated myself pretty badly for a while. For a while it was…pretty bad." She then leaned in closer to Sayaka. "But we got through it. We forgave each other. So if you want to drag us back to-"

"You forgave each other?" Sayaka drew back in revulsion. "Wait, what would you have to forgive her for?"

Charzomi rolled her eyes. "Well, she figured out who I was before I did, and immediately blew my head off."

"Uh…oh."

"Then she chased me around an abandoned carpark, blowing pieces off of me before she came to her senses. So, if it makes you feel better, the score on sudden decapitations was settled pretty much immediately."

"Ah. I…see then."

"Yeah." Charzomi sucked in air through her teeth. "So again, I know you haven't really had the chance to come to terms with all that, but could you please try not to drag us back to that place? That's not a period of our lives we really want to revisit."

Sayaka quirked an eyebrow. "You know, I'm getting the feeling that you don't like me very much."

Oh God, it was Kyoko all over again. "I don't know you," Charzomi said. "We've just met. I know your other self. I'm friends with your other self. But I don't know you." She turned back to the stairway, up into the gaping mouth. "Now, I have no problem with you being here. I'm more than willing to fight by your side to get us out of this. Hell, maybe we'll become friends too." She paused, letting that sink in. "But if you make a fucked up situation even more fucked up, well, let's just say that I'd really rather that you didn't, okay?"

"Wow," Sayaka said. "Kyoko was right about you."

Ophelia, Charzomi mentally corrected. Temporary or not, there was no reason not to use her name. "Right about what?"

"That you're kind of a cranky hardass."

Charzomi actually laughed at that. "Well, she's right." She turned back to Sayaka. "But that's because I like to approach things as they are. And the way things are right now is that we are all stuck together by some incredibly powerful being that's messing with our very identities for its own amusement, and the only chance we have is sticking together and looking out for each other. So, you okay with fighting side-by-side with Charlotte the Desert Witch?"

She stuck out her hand, the skin phasing between pale pink and alabaster white, the sleeve changing between the simple grey sweater Charlotte had been wearing upon finding the hot springs and the ruffled sleeve of Nozomi's Puella Magi uniform.

Sayaka looked down at it, frowned, and then shrugged. "What the heck." She grabbed Charzomi's hand with her own. "Okay. I'm with you too."

"That's good to hear. And tell you what: once we get out of this, if you still feel weird about me, I'll give you one free swing. Least I can do."

"Really?" Sayaka said flatly.

"Fine. If you want me to put up more of a fight, then we'll arm wrestle instead."

"Arm wrestle. Really. You want us to arm wrestle."

"You'd prefer a thumb war? I can do that."

Sayaka actually laughed at that. "You know what? Sure, why not?" She looked Charzomi up and down, and then lightly punched her in the shoulder. "You know, you're not so bad."

"Ah. Well, thank you, Miki. Same to you."

Sayaka smiled, and then she looked past Charzomi and her smile withered. "Um…" She sighed. "Can I…you know…"

Charzomi glanced up. Sayaka was looking up at Candeloro again. What was more, Candeloro had paused her ascent and was watching them in turn.

"Can you what?" Charzomi said.

Sayaka swallowed. "Um, you know. Talk to her?"

Charzomi immediately stiffened. Her first impulse was to snap at Sayaka, to flatly tell her no, and to never ask again.

She didn't, mainly due to the knowledge of how cruel such a response would be, but she wanted to. Restraining herself the best she could, she said, "Why?"

Sayaka blinked. "Because…Because I owe to her! Because I watched her, uh, watched her-"

"Watched her die," Charzomi filled in for her. "Killed by me, you mean."

"Well, yeah, but that's not what I meant!"

"What did you mean, then?"

"I mean I let her die!"

Charzomi paused. Right. Guilt complex. The bane of magical girls everywhere. Living with Mami had taught her that very thoroughly.

She glanced up to Candeloro, who had also stopped ascending and was now looking back at them, no doubt having heard Sayaka's outburst. Ophelia had stopped as well. All eyes were on the drama unfolding between Charzomi and Sayaka.

Either ignorant or uncaring of the attention she was drawing, Sayaka pressed on. "Don't you get it? I don't care if it was you or not, you were a witch! You were doing what witches do! But I made a choice, a choice to do nothing, and she died! Do you know how many times I dreamed about Mami since then, of either watching her die all over again, or of meeting her again and begging her to forgive me? I've wanted this so badly. So please, may I just talk to her, just a little bit?"

Charzomi winced. Okay, this had gotten all sorts of complicated. "You do realize, with her being how she is, she won't-"

"I know! I know she doesn't remember me! But she will, right? After we win? And she'll remember my apology."

"Okay, but why not wait until then?"

"Because I don't know if I'll make it out of this!" Sayaka said, her face aghast. "I don't! And if I'm going to die again, then I want to at least make things right!"

Wow, okay, this was getting really complicated. "Sayaka, look: it's not that simple."

"Well, it should be."

"Well, it's not," Charzomi said, just a little bit crossly. She started to lean back on her new staff, realized that doing so was probably not a good idea given that it didn't even exist part of the time, and settled for shifting her weight. "Look, she's a witch now. She wasn't before; hell, she wasn't one this morning, but she's one now. So until we get her back to normal, I'm going to assume that she has to follow the same rules that all witches do."

"Wait, there's more? What rules?"

"Aw, goddamnit," Charzomi muttered as she ran her fingers through her hair, a weird feeling with the gloves constantly appearing and disappearing. "Okay, condensed version: witches can't hear their old names. I mean, they're not supposed to. Doing so messes them…us up really bad, and doing it too much makes us go insane. Same with trying to jog any of our old memories. Why? It just does. You're not going to make her remember, and you'll probably just end up hurting her. So that's why I'm not too hot about you talking to her right now!"

"But-Wha-That's-"

"Dumb and cruel and unfair, yes! I know! It is! But that's just how it works, and nothing is going to change that! I'm sorry, it sucks, but we are literally climbing up a giant tongue over a burning city with loud music coming out of nowhere about to walking into a huge mouth to fight who-knows-what! So I don't have time to give it to you gently. Accept it or don't, okay?"

"But-" Her face now totally dismayed and bewildered, Sayaka pressed shaking fingers against her forehead and temple as she struggled to understand everything that had just been dumped on her. "I-"

And then Candeloro called down, "It's okay, Charlotte."

Charzomi froze, as did Sayaka. Then, moving in sync, they both looked up at her.

Candeloro was standing with one hand on her hip, the other anxiously drumming against her leg. She still had that haunted look in her golden eyes, but also looked determined. "It's okay. She can talk to me, Char-" Then she frowned. "Uh, Noz…uh…"

"Charzomi," Charzomi sighed. "Just…call me Charzomi for now."

Candeloro nodded. "Charzomi then. And Sayaka, if you want to talk to me, you can."

"But…" Then Charzomi sighed. As much as she didn't like it, it wasn't her call to make. "Okay. Okay." She then turned her attention back to Sayaka. "Promise me that you will never so much as think her old name. Her name, for now, is Candeloro, and call her nothing else. Don't bring up any specific memory, don't try to get her to remember, don't do anything that might hurt her. Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes," Sayaka said. "I promise."

Though she still had misgivings about this whole thing, Charzomi stood aside for her. Nodding her thanks, Sayaka started to climb the steps up to where Candeloro was waiting.

As Sayaka passed by, Charzomi's hand suddenly shot out, grabbing the younger girl by the wrist. Startled, Sayaka instinctively drew back, her other hand going for the hilt of her sword, only stopping herself right before drawing.

Locking eyes with her, Charzomi leaned in close. "I mean it," she said. "Do. Not. Hurt. Her."

At this, Sayaka's sapphire eyes flashed with indignation. "I already said I wouldn't," she said, yanking her hand away. "So either trust me or stop me."

Charzomi raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. She stepped back and tilted her head up toward Candeloro.

As Sayaka resumed her ascent, Charzomi seriously considered making more of an issue of the situation. She understood why Candeloro would consent to speaking to Sayaka despite her current condition; she just didn't agree with it. It was a wholly unnecessary risk, one that they probably couldn't really afford to take, considering what they were about to face.

She didn't, and that was in part due to wanting to respect Candeloro's decisions, but also in part out of pity. Whatever she might think of Sayaka Miki, and however she might feel about Sayaka having stepped back into Oktavia's skin, however temporarily, she was right about one thing: she did deserve this. After all, regardless of anything Ophelia had promised, regardless of whether they won or lost, Sayaka Miki was not long for this world.

Right about then, the song that had been playing stopped, to be replaced by slow, ominous guitars while a new singer crooned out, "Welcome to my nightmare. I think you're gonna like it!"

Despite everything, Charzomi couldn't help but smile a little. Well, at least their malicious host had fantastic taste in music.

…

All in all, Sayaka Miki could not decide if the day she was having was more terrible or more weird. There was certainly plenty of both, but it was difficult to suss out which one outweighed the other.

On the terrible side, well, she had spent most of it feeling her sins crawling on her soul, weighing herself down with her own worthlessness. She had gravely insulted her best friend, lashing out at her for something that wasn't even her fault. She had been forced to share a train with a pair of misogynist pieces of crap and lashed out, attacking them both. Maybe she had killed them, maybe she hadn't; she didn't know, and hadn't bothered to checked when she had left their broken and bleeding bodies at the next station.

And then, when she had finally confronted the futility of her actions and the effects they were having on the world, she had finally given up, letting herself sink into the darkness that had been following her for days, letting it consume her. She had died, and what was left had become a monster.

That alone ought to have qualified it as the worst (and last) day of her life if it weren't for what had happened immediately after. She had opened her eyes to find herself staring at a bizarre dreamtime apparition of Kyoko Sakura. She had learned that she had been dead for months, that she would never return home, never see her family again, never reconcile with Madoka, never be loved by Kyousuke, never matter to anyone ever again.

She had learned that the last few weeks of her life had been a complete lie. She had learned that she had been duped, defrauded by Kyubey, and tricked into becoming a murderess. She had learned that the one thing that had ever brought her any sense of worth and fulfillment had been a fake, a con, and she had never been worth much to begin with.

She had learned that in the months since her death in one world, someone had been going around in her skin, wearing her face, and using her voice, someone that apparently everybody liked, somebody that had made friends with Kyoko of all people, had reunited with Mami despite not having any of Sayaka's memories of her, and had actually been doing pretty well for herself.

Also, she had learned, or at least suspected, that her other self might possibly be dating Kyoko Sakura. Out of all the things she was being asked to accept, that was the one that made her feel the strangest. Didn't her other self at least have any taste?

It was just too much. Too much to think about, too much to come to terms with, too much to accept. She felt like she was trapped in a glass tank surrounded by water, with every finger and toe plugging up a hole, and trying to keep them all at bay was only going to make more holes, causing the waters to rush in and drown her.

So she did the only thing she could do: not deal with it at all. Do not think about her apparent death. Don't think about the enormity of Kyubey's lie. Don't think about how she was never going to see her friends and family again, and about how badly she had treated them. Instead, just focus on the parts that were immediately in front of her, and concentrated on those and those alone.

She had already settled things with Charzomi, or at least as much as she could given the circumstances. Now she had been given permission, albeit with some very strange conditions, to settle something else.

Making up with Mami Tomoe, her dead sempai.

In many ways, watching Mami die had been the catalyst for Sayaka's self-destruction. Mami's death had been the prime motivator for her making a contract with Kyubey. Mami's death was what had brought Kyoko Sakura to Mitakihara. Mami's death had been the weight that had been wrapped around her neck, dragging her further and further down into her own darkness.

And now Mami was standing right in front of her, and she didn't even recognize Sayaka. She only knew Sayaka's other, better self.

Honestly, you had to laugh. It was just so perfectly absurd and terrible that it was probably hilarious to someone.

Sayaka hoped that someone was getting a laugh out of it. Maybe it would be her, someday.

Maybe.

Mami had apparently been listening in onto her whole conversation with Charzomi, as she was standing still, watching and waiting for her.

Sayaka had been avoiding looking at her ever since saving her from those surgeons (and OKAY! That was another thing she was trying not to think of. For supposed dream monsters, those surgeons sure had bled A LOT!). It was just too hard, to have her look so much like the person Sayaka had so many strong and conflicting feelings about and yet so different. But now she had to look right at Mami, and what she saw made her mentally stumble, almost as if her brain had slipped a gear.

Again she was struck by the balance of what Sayaka recognized and yet what she found so alien. There were the living ribbons Mami had in place of arms, yes, but beyond that everything about her was just…different. Her hair, which had always gleamed like woven gold and coifed up into a pair of elaborate drill-tails, was now longer, duller, and hung loose around her shoulders. Her face was thinner too. There was a gauntness to her features, an evident hunger, speaking to the long time spent on the road in constant danger, something the Sayaka had apparently been a part of. She wondered if her own face looked like that.

As for Mami's eyes, well, they were the same piercing golden color, but there was a weariness to them, the eyes of someone who had traveled long and had little rest.

There were other things too. The way she walked lacked that lightness she once had. Her steps were heavier, and there was a slight bow to her shoulders. This Mami had been through hell, and no longer felt the need to hide it.

And she had taken that journey with Sayaka's other self, with Oktavia von Seckendorff.

So that was another scary complication.

"Hello, Sayaka," Mami said.

Sayaka opened her mouth to speak, but right then, when she finally had Mami right in front of her, all the words that she had prepared fled her mind.

No. Not now. Don't freeze up now.

"Um, look," Sayaka said. "Seeing how we're about to fight some kind of crazy dream monster, and we don't know if we're going to make it out alive…or whatever…I thought that you and me should, you know, talk. A little. Um."

Mami swallowed noisily. "Ok…Um, Sayaka. You know I can't be who you want me to be. You know my memory of that time is gone."

"Oh, I know! Don't worry, I'm not going to call you by anything you don't want to be called or try to make remember anything. It's just. Well." Sayaka awkwardly reached up to scratch the back of her head. "It's just, well, if I don't…if I don't make it out and you do, and you get your memory back, then at least. At least I got to say. At least I got to say…"

Her throat closed up, making it even harder to talk. To her chagrin, shameful tears were forming in her eyes, blurring her vision. Darn it! She hadn't even begun and she was already breaking down!

Then she felt something soft and light lay itself on her shoulder. Blinking her eyes clean, she saw that Mami had descended to the same step she was on and had laid one of her ribbons on Sayaka's shoulder.

"It's okay," Mami said. "You can say what you want."

The mist in Sayaka's eyes thickened, and her chin started to tremble. One of the fingers she had plugged into the glass wall slipped, and everything gushed through.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Sayaka sobbed. "I let you down in every single way. I failed you, I couldn't-"

Mam sighed. "Sayaka, whatever you might think, whatever it is that happened, my death was not your fault."

"No!" Sayaka cried. "Not that. I mean after. You were gone, and Mitakihara needed a protector, so I thought I could fill your shoes. But I couldn't! I failed so badly! I couldn't be you, I couldn't do what you did, I just kept screwing up over and over. I hurt my friends, I let everyone down, and in the end, I just hated myself so much that…that I…"

Her legs lost their strength, and she stumbled.

Right into Mami's embrace.

Though Mami had ribbons instead of arms now, they were no less strong, and felt no less warm. She hugged Sayaka tight, and Sayaka held onto in return, openly crying into Mami's shoulder, all the while marveling at just how real Mami felt, how strong and solid, and please God, please don't let this be just another dream, please let this be real at least…

"I tried," Sayaka wailed. "I swear, I tried! But I just wasn't good enough. I never was! I just kept screwing up over and over and hurting people and making it worse, and oh God I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," Mami murmured. "Really, it is." She tried to pat Sayaka on the back, but found that a ribbon just didn't have the same weight as a human hand, so instead settled for stroking Sayaka's hair. Either way, Sayaka appreciated the gesture, even if she didn't agree with the sentiment.

"No, it's not," Sayaka said, shaking her head. "You weren't there. You didn't see how badly I screwed up, how much I-"

"No! Sayaka, listen, listen!" Mami parted and stepped back, her ribbons laid on Sayaka's shoulders. "I know you probably have this image in your head of me as this…I don't know, really cool, confident leader-type, right? Someone who was always on the ball and knew what to do, right?"

Sniffing, Sayaka wiped her eyes with her wrist and nodded.

"Well, it's wrong. I'm sorry, but that's not who I was at all."

At this, Sayaka frowned. "I thought you didn't remember any of that."

"I don't. But I remember dealing with it. I remember…years of therapy and bad dreams and going into deep depression and…well, I kind of hated myself for a while."

"You?" Sayaka stared at her. Mami? Hate herself? Why? How was that possible?

Mami nodded. "Sayaka, you have to understand: that version you saw of me? It was a front! A façade! Something to hide just how terribly lonely I was. There was…" Mami's voice caught, and she cleared her throat and tried again. "There was awful week I had when I first came here, where I just broke down in my therapist's office and told her how much of a fake I had been, and how hard I tried to look cool for rookie magical girls, just because I was desperate for someone to look up to me. And when you think about it, I screwed up far more than you did."

Sayaka shook her head. No, this wasn't making any sense. "But…how? You didn't break down like I did, and you saved so many people!"

"Yes, I did. And then I destroyed them! Sayaka, do you know how many girl I saved from witches only to prod them into making their own contracts? You were far from the first!" Her own eyes now starting to tear up, Mami cupped Sayaka's hands with both ribbons. "What kind of hero does that? What kind of hero tries to make the people she's saved trap themselves in the same Hell she's in?"

"B-But you thought you were doing good, you thought-"

"It doesn't matter," Mami said, her tone bitter. "It still happened, and I have to be honest, I probably wanted admirers more than I wanted other heroes. Dying was the best thing to ever happen to me."

At this, Sayaka had no idea what to say.

"Dying freed me, Sayaka. It didn't kill me so much as it killed the illusion. It brought me to people who wanted to help me, who understood what I had been through and knew what I needed. It gave me a second chance at a better life than I would have had otherwise." Then Mami glanced to the side and smiled. "And it gave me the love of my life. How could I regret that?"

Sayaka followed her gaze to see Charzomi looking up at them, lips pressed tightly together and slightly askew. Well, Sayaka didn't really see what Mami saw in her, but then again, they had only just met. Sort of.

"I…guess," Sayaka said. "But-"

Mami laid the end of one of her ribbons on Sayaka's mouth, stopping her. "Sayaka, I need you to understand something: everyone here has something they regret. Everyone has something they hate themselves for. I know that your, um, introduction to this place has been a little on the unorthodox side…"

Sayaka couldn't help but snort at that. Yeah, no kidding.

"…but believe me when I say that your story is no worse, nor better, than so many that I've heard."

Sayaka frowned. "Meaning…?"

"I mean don't beat yourself up so much," Mami said bluntly. "And you'll fit in just fine." She smiled and gave Sayaka's shoulder a squeeze. "Welcome to the team, Sayaka."

Sayaka wasn't sure if she believed her. If recent history set any precedent, then sooner or later she would screw things up for everyone, would do something to hurt everyone else.

Still, Mami's words did help, and she did appreciate them. It took the edge of the weight off.

She gave Mami another hug, this one more thankful and less desperate. With a happy sigh, she parted, and then glanced up the stairs, where pyro-Kyoko was hanging back, waiting for everyone to start following again.

With a crooked smile tugging at her lips, Mami tilted her head up at Kyoko. "Go on," she said. "I'm sure you still have a lot to talk about before the fighting starts."

Understatement of the freaking century, right there. "Okay," Sayaka said. "Um, thank you." She started to ascend once again, hesitated, and hurried back.

"Um, I'm g-glad you're back, by the way," she said. Then, realizing that wasn't quite right, she amended, "Or that I'm back, and I get to see you again, or-"

Chuckling, Mami waved her off. "It's okay. I understand."

"Uh, thanks." Sayaka turned and headed back up the stairs to Kyoko. Everything was still weird and terrible, but at the very least some parts were a little brighter.

…

Though she was ever so eager to unleash an ass-kicking of truly Biblical proportions upon the greasy bitch who had deliver her and her friends to this incredibly fucked up nightmare, when Ophelia had glanced over her shoulder back at her companions and saw Sayaka approach Charlotte/Nozomi and strike up a conversation, she had put two and two together and slowed things down. And when Sayaka had finished up with Charlotte and then approached Candeloro, she had come to a complete stop. Sure, they had pressing business inside that gross giant mouth, and sure, standing around on a giant tongue piercing over a burning city while loud music blasted into her ears wasn't exactly fun, but this was probably the last chance Sayaka was going to have to clear the air with the other two, so she could wait.

Sure enough, Sayaka's talk ended with hugs and a little bit of crying, just as it should have, just as Ophelia had been hoping it would. And when Sayaka hurried up single most disgusting staircase Ophelia had ever seen to join her, Ophelia smiled and stepped to one side, letting her onto the same step she was on.

"That was long overdue," Ophelia remarked. "Got out what you needed to get out?"

Sayaka's eyes were still a little wet, but she was at least smiling a little, a welcome change. "Uh, yeah," she said. "Yeah. I guess you were listening in, then?"

Rolling her eyes, Ophelia pointed her spear to the sky, which was still blaring loud rock-and-roll. "In this racket? Nah, but tearful embraces are pretty telling."

"I guess so." Sayaka glanced back down toward Candeloro. "Wow, never thought I would get to talk to her again."

"Yeah, there's a lot of that going around," Ophelia snickered. The two of them started walking up the steps together, talking as they went.

"I bet. You were right about Charzomi though."

"Wait, are we really calling her that now? I said that as a joke!" Then Ophelia shrugged. Well, it did fit. "Anyway, right about what?"

"That she's kind of a hardass." Sayaka slowly breathed out. "Also, I don't think she likes me. I thought you said I was friends with her!"

"You are! I mean, you were, but it was-"

"My other self, yeah," Sayaka said flatly. "Oktavia von Spaghettidork."

"Seckendorff," Ophelia corrected. She knew that Sayaka was joking, but the deliberate mispronunciation still irked her a little.

"Fine, fine. But she still doesn't like me."

Ophelia shrugged. "Well, give it time. She came around on me, and she had way more reason to hate me!"

"I believe that," Sayaka said with a nod. "Yup, I believe that."

"Well…" Ophelia sighed. "Okay, to be fair, I had just died, so that took some getting use to. Also, I was still getting over the whole 'nihilistic asshole' thing, so yeah, I was probably pretty insufferable."

"Well, I mean, death. Anybody would be cranky."

"Right! And this business with Reibey and my sister happened right afterward! So I was cranky, she was cranky, and we just didn't mesh well for a while."

"So what changed?"

"Well, we got stuck together on an alien planet full of monsters and spent a day fighting killer dinosaurs together."

Sayaka suddenly came to a complete stop. Ophelia had already lifted her foot to go onto the next step, but brought it and waited for Sayaka to finish processing what Ophelia had just said so she could enjoy her full reaction.

After several moments had passed Sayaka just sighed and started walking again. "I honestly can't tell if you're joking or not."

"I'm not."

"Oh," Sayaka said, her brow raising. "Okay. Killer dinosaurs. There's killer dinosaurs here too."

"Well…" Frowning, Ophelia stuck out her hand and waggled it. "Sort of. More of, uh, local predator that looked like someone had taken three or four of their favorite dinosaurs and stuck them into a blender together."

"Wow. Okay. Um…" Sayaka lifted her hand and opened her mouth as if she were going to make some kind of point, stopped, and then let her hand drop with a sigh. "All right then. Dinosaurs too. Fine."

Ophelia arched an eyebrow. "You all right?"

"Uh…I guess? I mean, no. I'm not. Every time I think I have a grip on just how insanely weird my life is now, you go and throw another curve ball at me." Sayaka's eye twitched. "Except it isn't my life anymore, is it? I'm dead, and this is just how things are going to be from now on. Just things constantly getting weirder and more terrible until I completely lose my-"

"Hey." Ophelia clamped a hand onto Sayaka's shoulder. "Get a grip. Now's not the time to fall apart."

"Really?" Sayaka let out a bitter chuckle. "Kyoko, we are on a giant tongue. There an ugly face in the sky right over there, and we are going to walk inside its mouth. This seems like a fantastic time to fall apart."

Ophelia's own eye twitched a little, in part due to the use of her other name, but also she was now remembering just how aggravating Sayaka's whining could be. "Quit it," she growled. "Remember what I said earlier? You are, without a doubt, the single most infuriatingly stubborn person I have ever met, and that's coming from me!"

"Uh…thanks?"

"So be that person! Be the girl that drove me absolutely bonkers! Be the bitch that wouldn't stay down no matter how many times I knocked her on her ass! That's the Sayaka Miki I need right now. That's the Sayaka Miki that'll give us half-a-chance of winning!"

Frowning, Sayaka pushed Ophelia's hand off her shoulder. "When did you get all motivational speech…y?"

"I'm a pastor's daughter; it's in the blood."

Sayaka sighed. "All right. Fine. You want bitchy Sayaka? I'll give you bitchy Sayaka."

"Good! Just remember to direct it at the asshole we're heading to go kill and not at me."

"I'll try. Oh, and one last thing," Sayaka said as they continued climbing. "There's…something I really need cleared up before we do this."

…

Candeloro watched as Sayaka hurried up the steps to Ophelia. She had to admit, their talk did make her feel a little better. Maybe not about the whole climbing up a giant tongue toward a huge, gaping mouth to do battle with a malicious being of unknown power while their very identities were being screwed with, but about herself in general. With so many victims to her name, it felt good to make things at least a little right with one of them.

Charzomi ascended the steps until she was standing next to Candeloro, looking up at the other two as well. "Well, that sounded like it went well," she said.

Candeloro glanced at her. Charzomi's lips were pressed tightly against one another, a sure sign that she was bothered by something. "What's wrong?" she said.

"I…" Charzomi breathed out. "This is fucked up."

Well, that much was obvious, but Candeloro got the feeling that her wife was referring to something in specific. "What is?"

"Her." Charzomi motioned up to Sayaka, who was now talking amiably with Ophelia. "How we're treating her. It's fucked up."

"Huh?"

Charzomi gave her a very familiar look. "Okay, this is going to sound bad, but bear with me here. Sayaka Miki is Oktavia's former self, who she was before she became a witch. She has no memory of everything we've been through these last few months. And given your current state, she's basically a stranger to both of us, while Oktavia is a close friend, right?"

"Um, I guess?"

"Then how come both of us are taking the fact that Sayaka basically just waltzed in and replaced Oktavia so well? Oktavia's gone, Ma…sorry. She's gone, Candeloro. Our friend is gone, but no one's really brought that up. No one's really gotten upset about that. Why?"

"I-" Candeloro blinked. Come to think of it, that did strike her as a little odd.

"It's because you and I both know that all this is temporary. If we win, and that's a big if, then everything goes back to the way it was. And if we lose, then well, it won't matter anyway. And that's kind of fucked up! I mean, we're here all going, 'Welcome to the team, Sayaka! Here's what you missed. I know it's weird, but you'll get used to it!'" Charzomi sighed. "But she's got like an hour before she stops existing, tops. This is fucked up. I don't even know or even really like the kid, but this is just cruel."

Candeloro swallowed back the lump she felt forming in her throat. "You don't know that, though."

"Don't I?"

"Maybe it'll stick. Maybe-"

"Maybe it'll stick?" Even with Charzomi's eyes shifting between pink and blue, the anger flashing in them remained consistent. "So what, you want Oktavia to be gone forever?"

"No, of course not! But maybe they'll, you know, merge? Both sets of memories melting into one?"

"And maybe you'll be Candeloro forever and I get stuck as Nozomi only or something. Is that what you want?"

"Of course not!" Well, maybe staying as Candeloro wouldn't be so bad, but that was probably beside the point.

"Are you worried that that'll happen?"

"I…I hadn't thought about it…"

"Then why are we acting like that ideal outcome, the one where Oktavia and Sayaka both happily merge into one person and everyone gets what they wants, is likely to happen? None of us know what the hell is going on, so why are we so sure that what happens to Sayaka or Oktavia won't be awful? What if, after all is said and done, Sayaka is suddenly gone forever, right after she's been introduced to all of us and made to come to terms with everything? What if by winning, we just end up killing her all over again?"

Candeloro shook her head. "I don't know, Char."

"Or worse, what if she doesn't leave? What if she stays the way she is, and Oktavia never comes back? What if that part of her is just gone? Both you and Ophelia knew Oktavia way longer than you did Sayaka, and I only ever knew Oktavia! What if our friend is just gone, erased, and that's it for her? Oktavia was her own person, Candeloro! Are we really just going to let her disappear forever?"

"Stop it," Candeloro said in a hoarse whisper. "Please. I get it, okay?"

Sighing, Charzomi shrugged her shoulders.

"Fine. It's awful. And there's no way to win without causing something awful. But what are we supposed to do? What are we supposed to tell her? 'Hello, Sayaka. I'm sorry you're so scared and confused, but since you're probably going to vanish in a few minutes, I'm not going to waste my time comforting you'?"

"No, no! Of course not! It's…" Charzomi sighed again. "I don't know. I don't know what the right thing to do it. I just know that this isn't fair, leading her on like that."

On that, Candeloro agreed, and did so most heartily. Nothing about this was fair. Nothing that had happened to Sayaka or Oktavia was deserved. Sayaka had been beaten down and crushed by a system specifically designed to beat down girls like her, and Oktavia had become wrapped up in issues that largely only concerned her through the people that she cared about.

The two watched Ophelia and Sayaka talk. From the look of things, Ophelia seemed really animated, genuinely happy in fact, as if they weren't all trapped in a nightmare world marching their way to confront something that was well outside of their weight class. Even the flame coming out of the top of her head was burning brighter than it had been.

As for Sayaka, she was smiling for the first time since Candeloro had met her. It was like Oktavia's smile, so similar that one might mistake it for identical at a quick glance. But Candeloro still saw the differences. It was a little more guarded than Oktavia's, just a little…forced. Not fake, but exaggerated in the manner of those who used put-upon good humor to cope with hard situations, whereas whenever Oktavia smiled, she tended to mean it a bit more.

At Candeloro's side, Charzomi made a gargled sound of disgust, deep in her throat.

Candeloro frowned, and then turned to her. "What was that all about?"

"Them," Charzomi said. She pointed up at Ophelia. "Or to be specific, her."

"Ophelia? What about her?"

"Look at her, so happy to get her Sayaka Miki back. It's like she doesn't care that Oktavia might be gone at all."

Candeloro paused for a moment, considering this. Then she said, "That's not really fair."

"What is? Doesn't make it any less true."

"She watched Sayaka die. Of course she'd be happy to get her back."

Charzomi snorted. "Yeah, and from what she's told us, Sayaka never liked her in the slightest. They knew each other for a couple weeks, never exchanged a friendly word, and then they died. But Oktavia's been by her side through thick and thin, and she doesn't seem to even care that-"

"Babe," Candeloro said, her tone slightly admonishing. "Now's not the time."

"Then when is? What if Oktavia's really gone? What do we do then, huh?"

"I don't know!" Candeloro snapped, perhaps a bit more harshly then intended, but she was dealing with a lot. "I don't know, Char. This is beyond me! I just know that the time isn't right now!"

Charzomi winced a little at that. "Okay. Fine. But even so, Ophelia is-"

"A mess," Candeloro said flatly. "A great big ball of issues. I know that. So am I, so are you, and so is both Oktavia and Sayaka. So how is getting into Ophelia's face going to solve anything?"

Sighing, Charzomi held up her palms in defeat. "All right. You have a point." A pause, and then she said, "But I still think this is wrong. Oktavia deserves better."

"Fair, and I don't disagree. I just…" Candeloro's shoulders slumped. "I just can't be mad at Ophelia, not after everything she's been through. I just feel sorry for them, all three of them. Because pretty much the only outcome that isn't going to be terrible for them is if Oktavia and Sayaka somehow merge into the same person, and we all know the chances of that happening."

"Sure," Charzomi said. "Except for that part where Oktavia now remembers all the traumas that killed her the first time around."

"I didn't say it was perfect, only that it was the least awful."

"Hmmm. Well, maybe they'll get split into two different people, so we'll have one of each."

Despite the severity of the situation, Candeloro couldn't help but smirk a little at that. "Oh, and then Ophelia will have to choose between them, like some kind of really bizarre holo drama?"

"Oh, God!" Charzomi laughed."Can you imagine? As if the poor kid didn't have enough to deal with!"

Candeloro laughed too, but as good as even that little bit of levity felt, it didn't last. There was little humor to be found in their current predicament.

Well, maybe the fact that they were still on a giant tongue was a little funny, in a really weird and gross sort of way.

Sighing, she turned back to the stairs. "Come on," she said. "At least we can do something about the person that did this to us."

"On that I totally agree."

Right about then Ophelia and Sayaka started yelling. At each other.

…

Ophelia sighed. "No, me and your other self aren't dating. We're friends, but we're not dating."

Sayaka paused for a second at hearing that. "How'd you know what I was going to ask?" she said as she started walking again.

"Because it's what I would want to know."

"Ah." Sayaka nodded. "Okay."

Ophelia looked at her from the corner of her eye. "That's it? Just an okay?"

"What more do you want?" Sayaka said with a shrug. "Do you want me to be disappointed or something?"

Ophelia pursed her lips.

A silent beat passed, then Sayaka suddenly grabbed Ophelia's own shoulder and spun her around to face her.

"Hey!" Ophelia said, jerking back. "Don't touch-"

"Kyoko, do you have a crush on me?" Sayaka demanded. "Yes or no."

Ophelia felt her face flush, and for reasons unrelated to the open flame coming out of her head. "The hell you going on about? Just because we're not going at each other's throats anymore doesn't mean I wanna kiss you!"

"That's not a yes or a no!"

"Well, uh, then no! I don't!"

"Really?" Sayaka said, quirking an eyebrow.

"Really! Oh, what, just because I missed you automatically means I wanted to make out with you?"

"Do you?" Sayaka said. "Because…" She sighed. "Look, I don't know what happened between you and my other self, and if that's…how you swing, then good for you! I don't mind at all! But I…I don't, and if I'm here to stay, then, um…"

Ophelia scowled. "Well, you don't have to worry about that!" she snapped as she huffily turned away. "It wasn't like that between us at all!"

And then, disaster struck. Because before she could stop it, before she realized what a horrible idea it was, she couldn't help but mutter, "Yet."

"Yet?!" Sayaka squeaked. "Whoa! Hey, uh, are you saying-"

"Hey, what's this?" Charzomi said as she and Candeloro came up behind the pair. "Look, I know you guys had some kind of epic rivalry back in the day, but is this really the time to be bringing that back?"

"What? Rivalry?" Sayaka sputtered out. "Oh, I wish it was that! But apparently, Kyoko here is-"

"Can it, Swordfish," Ophelia growled.

"But-"

"I said can it! It's not important!"

"Okay, but why did you call me Swordfish? Like, what does that even mean?"

"Okay, okay!" Candeloro said hastily. "Look, I know we all have a lot of weird, complicated history, but now is not the time to be snapping at one another! We're a team, and we need to have each other's backs in this!"

"All right, all right," Sayaka said as she held up her palms and stepped back. "Later then."

Ophelia shot Sayaka one last glare, and then stomped up the stairs with a huff. Just as well Candeloro had broken things up, as they had reached the face.

From far off it had been ugly. Close up it was downright hideous, like one of those ghastly giant clown faces that often formed the entrances to circus funhouses. Only this one was made of living flesh. Ophelia could see the saliva that coated the boulder-sized teeth, the individual hairs on the cheeks.

"Ew," Sayaka said, making a face.

"Oh!" Charzomi gagged. "Oh, no. Really wish I hadn't done that. Nobody look up into her nose. That was-" She started retching.

Ophelia wrinkled her nose. "C'mon," she muttered, and followed the tongue into the moist cavern of the punk girl's mouth.

"Gross, gross, gross, gross," Sayaka muttered as they continued on.

"Why. Does it. Smell like. Fish?" Charzomi hissed.

Ophelia ignored them. At the end of the tongue was not the opening to the throat. Instead, there was a door in the fleshy wall, a wooden door with the words FUCK OFF roughly carved in with straight lines.

Without saying anything Ophelia grabbed the door's metal knob and twisted.

Inside was a girl's bedroom.

The walls were covered with posters, all of various counter-culture bands, from British Punk to Heavy Metal to Gothic Rock to Emo to Thrash to Death Metal to Horrorcore. The ground was littered with, well, litter, from empty food containers to beer bottles to soda cans to discarded clothing to makeup sets to miscellaneous packaging. There was a dresser with all of its drawers ajar, various pieces of clothing hanging out, and a large mirror set over that, one with various icons of rebel music tacked on.

And reclining in the black-sheeted bed was the source of all of their recent problems, the punk girl with the denim clothing, the multiple piercings, and the multicolored dreadlocks.

She had one leg dangling over the side of the bed, the other propped up on a large speaker that was continuing to blare the same music as outside, and, as always, was messing around on her phone, her jaws masticating a piece of gum.

Ophelia held up a hand, bringing her party to a stop behind her. She stood on the room's threshold, waiting.

If the punk girl knew that they were there (and she absolutely did), she made no sign.

Ophelia cleared her throat as obnoxiously as she could and called out, "Hey!"

The punk girl's fingers stopped scrolling. She glanced up with her prismatic eyes, one metal-studded eyebrow raised.

"Yo!" Ophelia waved her hand back and forth. "We're here!"

The punk girl shrugged and went back to what she was doing.

Fine. Mind games it was. Ophelia stuck her spear into the room, shoved it under a crumpled soda can on the ground, and tossed it into the air.

"Wait," Charzomi said. "What are-"

Ophelia swatted the can across the room. It arched through the air and smacked the punk girl right in the nose.

She blinked.

"Oh, boy," Sayaka sighed. "Now you've done it."

Sighing, the punk girl set her phone aside and swung her legs around to sit up on the edge of the bed. "Yeah, so, can I help you?" she said.

Great. They were really going to have to do this. "Yeah, you can! You brought us here, now send us back!"

"Hmmm." The punk girl blew a glittering bubble, popped it, and resumed chewing. "Nah."

"Oh, come on!" Ophelia snapped. "Look, we played your game, we ran your maze, and now you've practically rolled out the red carpet-"

"Tongue," Charzomi muttered.

"-and now we're here, you're here, so let's do this already!"

"Yeah, don't care," the punk girl said. "You're problems ain't my problems."

Ophelia's eyes narrowed, and the fires in her head turned blue.

Then she stepped into the room.

"Don't recall inviting you in," the punk girl said.

"I'm tired of these games," Ophelia said as she strode forward, Styrofoam containers and aluminum cans crunching beneath her feet, the point of her spear gouging out the floor behind her. "We both know how this is gonna go down. So let's cut to the chase already." She lifted the spear and pointed it right at the punk girl's face. "Or I just start cutting."

The punk girl blew another bubble.

Ophelia nudged the spear forward, poking the bubble and popping it.

"Hmmm," the punk girl said after sucking her gum back in. "You know, I don't like your attitude."

"Feeling's mutual, you Sex Pistols groupie. Stop wasting our time."

The punk girl snorted. "Really? Sex Pistols? Most people just call me Tekashi 6ix 9ine's daughter or some shit like that."

That actually made Ophelia pause. "Wait, who the fuck is that?"

"Exactly."

That was when Sayaka ran out of patience. "Oh, would you just stop?" she said as she walked up to stand next to Ophelia her sword drawn. "Look, just tell us who you are already! And why you did this to us!"

The punk girl's lips spread in a smug smirk.

"Why did I bring you here?" She shrugged. "Eh, that's easy. I want to eat you."

Ophelia blinked. "Huh?"

The punk girl stood up off the bed. "I want to eat you," she said as she started to slowly walk toward the group. "I want to dig my teeth into your souls and suck them dry. I want to devour your minds and gulp up your memories. I want to slurp the life from your bodies like a smoothie. I want to gobble you up like chips and let you digest for the next thousand years."

Despite coming with the express purpose of challenging her, Ophelia and her friends found themselves backing up as the punk girl continued to walk closer and closer, all the while happily reciting all the horrible things she wanted to do to them.

"I want to eat you just like I've eaten everyone else that's stumbled into my lair," the punk girl said as she came to a stop. "So welcome to my parlor, my little flies."

And with that, she inhaled deeply through her nose and blew out, expanding yet another glittering, silver bubble.

Except this bubble didn't pop. Instead, it just kept growing and growing and growing. Ophelia and Sayaka both leapt back, but it was pointless, because the bubble wasn't growing toward them. Rather, it was simply growing out. It was no longer a physical object, but instead a silver hole, one that was swiftly swallowing up the room, the mouth, and the city behind them.

Ophelia winced as the hole passed over her head to consume everything around them. "What's happening?" Candeloro called. "What's she doing?"

"Eating us," Sayaka said with a shiver. "Didn't you hear her? She's going to eat us!"

"Not yet," Ophelia growled. Now they were standing in an empty void of silver dusted with rainbow sparkles, with nothing to be seen in any direction. "She's not done playing with us yet."

"But-"

Suddenly the field of silver contracted, shrinking down into a flat square beneath their feet, leaving empty black behind. Ophelia stiffened. What was this?

"Wait, can you hear that?" Charzomi said.

"Yeah," Ophelia said. "Is that…" She frowned. "Is that cheering?"

Then she leapt back. Something was rising from the ground around the silver square. It looked like four posts, one at each corner, and stretching between them was…fencing? A cage?

No. They were ropes.

Ring ropes.

"Oh, my God," Charzomi whispered.

Suddenly a bright spotlight flashed on, glaring down on them, and a magnified voice called out, "First, introducing the challengers! Already in the ring, we have Ophelia, Sayaka Miki, Candeloro, and Nozomi 'Charlotte' Momoe, the Stupid Lost Bitches!"

The unseen crowd started booing lustily.

Ophelia's jaw dropped. Wait, really? This?

As the four of them stared mutely at one another, suddenly Charzomi started laughing.

"Wait, really? We're doing it this way?" She shrugged. "Okay, fine!"

Then, before Ophelia could ask her what she was talking about, Charzomi ran to one of the corner post turnbuckles, hopped onto the second rope, and started flipping off the darkness and the booing crowd that it concealed, which just made them boo louder.

"What the hell are you doing?" Ophelia demanded.

"Hey, she wants us to be pro wrestling heels, then I'm gonna be a pro wrestling heel!"

"What does that even mean?"

But before she could get an answer, the announcer suddenly started speaking. "And now, introducing the reigning, defending, undisputed, and undefeated champion!"

The crowd roared in approval.

"All the way from the depths of your nightmares, please welcome…MEPHISTO!"

The roar heightened to frenzied screams.

"Mephist-what?" Sayaka said, her face twisting up.

Ophelia just shrugged.

"Oh," Charzomi said, dropping her hands. "Oh shit."

Then over the loudspeakers they heard a loud, snarling guitar, followed by a raspy voice belting out, "Look in my eyes! What do you see?"

Charzomi hopped off the ropes and ran back to the group. "Okay, so we are in a world of trouble," she said.

"The cult of personality!"

"Oh, really?" Ophelia said. "No shit."

"I exploit you! Still you love me."

"No, I'm serious," Charzomi said. There was genuine fear in her eyes, evident even with the constant shifting between pink and blue. "See, she's one of the-"

Suddenly the crowd's roaring more than doubled, drowning out most of Charzomi's voice.

"-eal Witches!" Charzomi called, barely coherent over the din.

"What?" Ophelia yelled back, but right about then something happened that made both of them forget their conversation.

A massive LED stage simply appeared in the darkness, with all of it, from the floor to the walls to the overhang being made up of dozens of screens, all of them displaying what looked like a rainbow black hole, one that constantly shifting down the entire color spectrum, creating a hypnotic kaleidoscope effect.

And standing on the stage was the punk girl, Mephisto.

Though she still had her colored dreadlocks, she had discarded her artfully torn denim, replacing them with a latex halter top and a pair of tights, which were made of some kind of material that also constantly changed color, like a wearable mood ring. Around her waist was a big leather belt adorned with gold plates and gemstones that proclaimed her the reigning champion of THIS BITCH. And she saw still chewing on her gum.

Mephisto looked around, smirked, and then held her hands as if she were holding an invisible guitar. She strummed an imaginary solo, lifted her foot, and then stomped it down. As she did so, multicolored fireworks exploded out of the darkness around the stage while a massive sign spelling out MEPHISTO came to life above the stage. A glowing ramp then materialized, connecting the stage to the ring, and Mephisto started strutting her way down, trash talking while playing to the unseen crowd.

"Oh, wow," Candeloro said. "I guess we're doing this.

"How come we didn't get an entrance?" Sayaka complained. "If we have to do it like this, then we should at least have gotten an entrance."

Ophelia just folded her arms and stared. Well, at least they had gotten her off her damned phone.

Mephisto passed between the ropes and walked right past the group, pausing only to exchange looks with Ophelia, and then headed right for one of the turnbuckles. Climbing up, she undid her title belt and held it up for the audience to see. The black void suddenly lit up with the flashes of invisible cameras.

"We can't win this," Charzomi said in a low voice. "This is her world. She's controlling everything."

"I noticed," Ophelia said wryly. "But you know what? I don't feel like playing by her rules."

Then, while Mephisto was still posing for the crowd with her back to the ring, Ophelia whirled around and hurled her spear right at her.

It sailed straight and true, aimed at the spot right in between her shoulder blades. It was a perfect throw, one that should have impaled her and burst out the other end.

Unfortunately, as Charzomi had said, they were still in Mephisto's house.

Moving so fast that she registered only as a blur that left stationary afterimages, Mephisto twisted her upper body around and seized the spear right behind the blade, stopping it cold. The music came to a sudden stop, and the frenzied crowd starting booing anew, voicing their disapproval of Ophelia's dirty tactics.

Ophelia froze. Oh shit.

Smirking, Mephisto hopped off the turnbuckle to face them. She dropped the title belt and tossed the spear aside. Then she slowly lifted her hands to crack her knuckles in front of her chest.

Ophelia tensed up.

When Mephisto struck, it was impossible to predict, impossible to deflect, impossible to dodge, impossible to see! One moment she was in one spot, and the next she was right in front of Ophelia, leaving more afterimages behind her, her palm coming up to strike Ophelia in the sternum.

Gasping as the air was driven from her body, Ophelia flew backward, as helpless as a straw caught in a hurricane, the world pitching and tumbling around her. She landed hard on her back, and was so disoriented by the strike to her chest that she forgot to roll over her shoulders to displace the impact. She skipped like a stone across the ring and slammed into the turnbuckle. There she lay, slumped in the corner, watching as hazy shapes and colors ran around in front of her.

…

Candeloro already knew that they were in trouble going in to fight their nemesis, who had only just identified herself as being named Mephisto. She knew that the odds were against them. She knew that they were probably going to lose.

But somehow it never really clicked just how utterly screwed they were until Mephisto hit Ophelia, moving so fast that her eyes were unable to register the motion, knocking Ophelia senseless with one strike.

It was then that she realized that they were, as Ophelia would put it, so totally boned.

Sayaka was next. As soon as she saw Ophelia go down, she immediately charged in, sword pointed and ready to stab. A glowing circle formed around her feet as she shoved off, doubling her momentum.

She never had a chance.

One moment Mephisto was standing where Ophelia had been, smirking down at the dazed witch, but right when Sayaka's blade got within millimeters of striking her next, she suddenly was behind Sayaka, wrapping her arms around Sayaka's waist and yanking back. Sayaka made a startled choking sound as her momentum was suddenly reversed and she was thrown onto the back of her head and shoulders. There was a sickening crack, and she lay still. The crowd roared their approval.

Candeloro leapt back, landing on top of the opposite turnbuckle across from the still-dazed Ophelia. She took aim with her musket, drawing a bead on her head, hoping that she wouldn't be noticed.

Meanwhile, Charzomi was taking a more direct approach. She thrust her staff out, sending a spiral of golden wires, intending to tie up Mephisto much like she had Sayaka earlier, though this time for malicious reasons.

In answer, Mephisto snapped her arm up. The wires snapped around her forearm and wrist, wrapping it tightly.

Charzomi's attempt might have failed, but Mephisto at least stayed in one place this time, exactly what Candeloro needed. Her finger tightened on the trigger.

Suddenly, though she remained facing Charzomi, Mephisto's eyes snapped toward Candeloro, and she smirked. Oh no.

It was too late to keep from firing. The golden bullet shot out, sailing for Mephisto's temple. As it did, she swung the arm Charzomi had tied up to one side, yanking her off her feet and sending her sailing.

Right into the path of the bullet.

"No!" Candeloro cried as Charzomi's body jerked in midair. She hit the turnbuckle and slumped to the ground, clutching at her stomach.

Before Candeloro could really process what had happened, Mephisto was there, standing on top of the same turnbuckle as her and facing her, their noses nearly touching. She seized Candeloro with one arm around the back of her neck and the other grabbing her by the waist of her jeans, flipping her up so that she was suspended upside-down over Mephisto's head before letting herself fall back, taking the struggling Candeloro with her.

It shouldn't have been too bad of an impact. Candeloro had been flung into concrete at super-velocity speeds and still got up right afterward. Logically, simply being tossed a few meters onto a padded ring shouldn't have hurt much at all.

But it did. It was like being slammed into an anvil. Candeloro's world exploded and she saw stars, and she lost all motor control. She lay gasping, her world wracked by pain.

Mephisto had also landed on her back right next to her, but wasn't similarly incapacitated. She drew her legs back and kipped up to the crowd's cheers.

"This is awesome!" they all chanted in unison. "This is awesome!"

"Come on!" Mephisto said, spreading her arms wide. "This is a handicapped match! Four on one! And this is the best you can give me?"

None of her opponents answered her. None of them could.

Rolling her eyes, Mephisto put one hand on her hip and sighed. "All right, I guess I did twist you guys up a lot before the match. So what say we change the scenario to something you're all a little more familiar with?"

She held up one hand, thumb pressed against her index finger, and snapped.

…

Jerky had reached the central cavern.

He had already snuck a peek at it earlier, back when Mother and her packmates had been bathing. And he distinctly remembered a room of stone and water and steam, a simple cave with several pools of steaming water with the occasional stone pillar on land.

All of that was gone now: the pools, the steam, and the columns. Now it was a room filled several glowing crystals growing out of the floor, the ceiling, and the walls. Some of them were the size of pebbles, others were large enough to be pillars of their own, stretching from ground to ceiling. And they were all swimming with every color Jerky had ever seen. And since his eyesight could perceive parts of the light spectrum invisible to even humans, it was a nauseating display.

Mother and her packmates were all there, but they weren't moving. Instead, they had all discarded the strange artificial skins that they wore, leaving them with just their natural pink hides (well, save for the pink one, who was always alabaster white). What was more, they all seemed to be fast asleep. Their eyes were closed, their heads were slumped, and they were not reacting to any of the strangeness around also.

Also, they were all floating in the air, limbs dangling, facing the center of the room. Translucent tendrils that shimmered in the same array of colors as the crystals were wrapped around their waists.

And the source of the tendrils was the being hovering in the center of the room.

It was unlike anything Jerky had ever seen, and even in his relatively short life he had seen some weird creatures. It was in general shape similar to Mother and the rest of her kind: same basic shape, limbs in the same place, head in the same place, weird tuff of fur on top, though this one seemed to have separated hers into several tentacles that hung around her head instead of one solid mass.

But that was where the similarities ended. The being was completely without detail: no eyes, no mouth, no skin, no nothing that even remotely resembled anything Jerky recognized. Instead, her form was filled with the same shifting colors of the crystals, only even brighter.

Jerky whimpered. There was nothing in his ancestral memory to prepare him for anything like this. He didn't know what to do.

…

This was supposed to be the big, climatic fight chapter, but it was getting a little long in the tooth, so splitty instead, as is my wont.

Until next time, everyone!