One could say that there are only four ways of dying. A death that is sudden. A death that is gradual. A death that is painless. A death that is full of pain. Though they can be combined in various manners, these are the four ways by which life is extinguished.
The city of Mitakihara had died painlessly and suddenly, its skies grew grey with a sun that refused to bring light to this affront to life. Its people were gone, razed into nothingness by something they could not understand, with many others soon following. It was the armageddon of a single soul.
Only one pair of eyes, purple and dull, had bore witness to the birth of what could have been God. She had seen it many times before, tried to fight it many times, but in the back of Homura Akemi's mind, she could only think that putting up that fight was futile. It brought out that guilt she was so convinced she'd stomped out and hidden behind walls. It reminded her how fragile, useless and despicable she was.
She watched the rain hit her face for a long while, soaking her until she felt unbearably heavy. It was a tradition for her to not immediately go back. Let the clarity of disaster touch her for a moment, to teach a lesson before going back.
"Homura Akemi."
A voice called from inside her head, one she was tempted to immediately snuff out. She shifted her head to the side. There stood a familiar white vulpine, unsullied by the disaster, beady red eyes staring at her.
"Incubator." She softly acknowledged, trying desperately not to lose her temper at the filth-of-the-earth rat bastard in front of her. Even now, with only the Incubator left to see her, she wouldn't drop that facade. "What do you want?"
"Now that Madoka Kaname has fulfilled her destiny - Thanks in no small part to you - our work on planet Earth is finished. However, we doubt that the same goes for you." It tilted its head as the compartment on its back opened. "Thus, before you return to the past, we would like to offer a gift."
Out of its back rose what looked like an arrowhead, golden in color with ornate detailing resembling a grasshopper of sorts. The Incubator used its tail to hand it to Homura.
"What do you have to gain from offering this to me?"
"We have nothing to gain. After all, you will soon remove yourself from this equation." It nodded as it walked over to Homura. "This is a skill you will take into the next timeline, to the next Incubators. You are already quite the anomaly, with this tool even more so. As a race of researchers, I believe we will find it quite fascinating."
Homura gingerly took the arrow in her hands, inspecting it closely. It felt like pure metal, even if she couldn't recognize its scent from many of the labs she'd been to or broken into.
"So there must be something magical about this arrow, then. What does it do?"
"It is not magical, but it is supernatural. By cutting oneself with this arrow, a human gains what they call a 'Stand ability': A physical manifestation of the soul, capable of defying physics with willpower alone. It is a phenomenon we ultimately don't know much about, especially in the way it manifests with magical girls. All we know for certain is that there lies great potential in it."
"And that is where I come in." Homura nodded, intrigued. The rat hadn't lied directly, it never did, but… "Are there any drawbacks or risks to using this arrow?"
"Only two. If a soul cut by the arrow is not strong enough to use a Stand, it will die. This will not prove relevant to you. Secondly is that the workings of Fate are shifted slightly for Stand users. They seem to attract each other, often clashing because of it. Since Stand users are often ruthless, it might bring more risk to your 'ordinary life'." It closed its eyes, almost appearing pensive. "However, if you manage to understand the depths of your abilities as a Stand User and a Magical Girl… you might just find the power you need to defeat Walpurgisnacht."
It was an interesting, not-quite-equivalent exchange. A new power with potential unknown to even Kyubey, in return for even more risk. She could not deny its potential, that was for sure. And if it could affect normal humans, that was another way to prevent Madoka from contracting.
She raised the arrow up to her finger and made a small incision. For the first few moments, nothing happened, nothing was felt. Then, she was overheating. Water around her sizzled and boiled, the world appearing like a heat haze. It was only a few seconds after that reality seemed to realize there was a gap to fill in, and the world shifted back into place.
Homura took a quick breath. Something felt different, strong. There was definitely something different going on.
"The arrow has taken its effect, as expected." Kyubey stated. "You may keep the arrow, if you wish. We are sure our other selves will find this a fascinating development."
"I'm sure this could make me a nightmare to deal with."
"Perhaps. But that is a part of research, in the end." It shook its head. "It is unlikely that we'll meet again, Homura Akemi. I believe it's human courtesy to wish one good luck in such cases."
"Thank you. I would wish you the same, but I doubt you'll need it." She paused, not sure if to curse the rat out for ruining her life for the umpteenth time, or… "If this does end up changing things… you'll have my gratitude, not my forgiveness."
She reached her hand around the shield on her arm and turned it. Soon, she felt the vertigo set in as the world flashed blue, lines and impossible patterns shifting and carrying her to a new attempt.
The Incubator watched as the energy around Homura surged and took her away in a flash, far from where it could see. It wasn't quite a win-win situation for itself, but it knew whatever version of itself would meet Homura would find her very interesting. Perhaps her newfound power would help her win, or perhaps it would kill her. Either way, it couldn't lose. Sending a Stand User so tightly connected with Fate to another timeline would surely cause some interesting changes.
It turned around and walked away, looking to gather up with the remaining terminals on earth. Time was not of its essence, not anymore. It was time for them to find another purpose, a new goal. If it was possible, it would feel melancholic about leaving Earth after such a long time, but such qualms had never existed for the Incubator.
Homura, meanwhile, awoke with a soft gasp. She was back to the sterile, white-painted hospital she had come to loathe as a symbol of her failure. She was alive because of the people that worked here, but the boy not a few rooms away from her had thrown so many wrenches into that life. And not too far in the future, there would be that disgusting witch…
All in all, it was not a place Homura could love, even though she cared so much.
She sat up, ready to repeat the erasure of her old self like clockwork. She pulled her braids loose, healed her eyes, then her heart, doing so easily what medical science could barely hope to accomplish. It was more of an instinct than an action, something she did so automatically she didn't even notice the figure in the room watching her until she was done.
The noirette did a double take as she noticed it sitting on her bed, weightless. It was unlike anything she'd seen before: A violet, glowing humanoid with a robotic appearance. Its white, zero-shaped eyes bored into her with an expression as cold as her own, lips pursed. Its thin arms were covered in alarm clock screens, all displaying different times. Its torso seemed to be flowing, an optical illusion created by the distorted lines that covered it. Only when Homura acknowledged it did it react, floating over to the girl and putting its hands on her shoulders. Homura felt her soul gem flare up at the touch. This being was a part of her. The manifestation of her soul that the Incubator talked about. A 'Stand'.
The humanoid nodded, confirming her thoughts. They had struck out towards a whole new path.
Unbeknownst to Homura, as she prepared herself to leave the hospital, the timeline had shifted further than she would realize. Fate itself was shifted, new strings were tied. The Mitakihara she knew was cracking, and things were slipping through.
The clock has started ticking once more. Six weeks remained.