"You came to visit! Awww, I knew you cared, transfer student!"
Homura calmly sipped her tea, setting the cup back down with a clink. "I came to visit Madoka. Seeing you is simply an unfortunate side effect."
"H – Hey!" Sayaka protested.
Mami chuckled. "You are as cold as ever, Akemi-san. Was the tea not hot enough?"
"It was perfect as always."
Madoka clapped her hands together. "Now, now, everyone play nice now. We're all friends here!"
They were all sitting together at a table in Heaven, having a tea party just like they used to back in the old days. The sight, the smell, the people . . . it was all very nostalgic for Homura.
Kyoko looked up from where she was inhaling biscuits. "Oh yeah, what happened back there anyway? I remember killing off the rest of the dragons, then blacking out, then suddenly I woke up back here." She popped another treat in her mouth, chewed, and swallowed in one fluid motion. "Not really complaining since it means I got back faster, but I imagine our sudden departure left a few questions."
"Indeed. There was quite an outbreak of confusion regarding what happened at the end of the battle," Homura said.
She explained what happened thereafter, the others' worries over their apparent sudden casualties, her ensuing explanation of the victims' true nature, and the resulting relief that no one had actually died, in the end.
"Of course, there was still quite a bit of concern over what happened to the missing bodies. Azazel-san was particularly worried that they might fashioned into weapons to be used against us." She turned to Madoka. "Are you able to sense their locations?"
The goddess frowned. "I'm afraid not. For all intents and purposes, they've vanished from my radar, so to speak."
"What happened back there anyway?" Sayaka asked. "I thought we wouldn't wake up here unless our Soul Gem broke or if we came back to be manually woken up."
Madoka pursued her lips. "From the sound of it, it seems like the three of you were 'forcibly' disconnected with some sort of isolation field."
"Disconnected?' Mami asked.
"Yes. Remember how I said the bodies were like puppets that each of you controlled?" They nodded in unison. "The Soul Gems act as receptacles for your consciousness. They are what link your spirits up here in Heaven with the vessel down on the mortal plane." She frowned. "However, to do so requires a clear path, a way for the signal to travel back-and-forth between Heaven and wherever the body is."
"Oh! So, it's kinda like Wi-Fi, then?" Sayaka asked.
Madoka nodded. "Indeed. That is an apt comparison."
"Wait. But we were all the way in the Underworld. How the hell is there a 'clear path' between Heaven and the Underworld?" Kyoko asked.
"The signals connecting your souls and your bodies are very flexible. In fact, they are much closer to being spiritual energy than mundane radio waves or the like. They can pass through anything!" She frowned. "Well, almost anything. An empty void is still beyond its capabilities, it seems, and that is what the isolation field simulated: an empty pocket of space, disconnected from everything around it."
They all nodded in understanding at the goddess's explanation.
"Back to what Akemi-san mentioned about Azazel's worry about the enemy's intentions," Mami said. "Do you think there is any way the lost bodies might be used against us? Could they, for example, pilot the vessels themselves and possibly commit identity theft by doing so?"
Madoka glanced away, her eyes unfocused as she delved into her thoughts. "It shouldn't be possible . . . I created the bodies so that only the intended users, in this case you three, could make use of them."
"How does it check that?" Homura asked.
"Spiritual presence. Every person, and thus every soul, is unique, making it the perfect key!"
While Homura ruminated on her friend's answer, Sayaka interjected with a sheepish look. "Oh yeah, I guess since we lost our bodies, that means we lost those cards you gave us too. Sorry about that."
"It's fine, it's fine!" Madoka waved it off with a smile. "I have more, so don't worry about it!"
Homura knew what they were talking about; the other girls were able to summon their witches for the fight in the Underworld because Madoka had given them "witch cards" imbued with the power of their respective witches. She knew that if her friend could've, she would've received one as well.
"I don't know about y'all . . ." Kyoko's voracious appetite had yet to be appeased. "But I'm perfectly fine with taking it easy and relaxing up here for a while. Living down there was a bit of a pain, to be honest."
"You just missed the constant supply of free food," Sayaka said with a knowing look.
"It's very important!"
While the two of them argued, Mami turned to Madoka. "Would there happen to be any spare bodies for the three of us? Venturing out was some of the most fun I've had in a long time, and I wouldn't mind the opportunity to do so again."
"Seconded!" Sayaka called out.
"Hey! Don't just leave me behind like that!"
"Then come along with us!"
Madoka gave an amused smile. "Yes, I did make some backups just in case. But considering how recently the others were stolen, it may be prudent to wait and see what happens before we expose any more to theft."
Mami nodded. "I understand. That is the wise choice."
"You may wish to devise a countermeasure to the isolation field before sending them out again," Homura suggested. "The enemy may decide to try the same tactic again, and it would be quite embarrassing to succumb to the same trick twice."
Madoka puffed her cheeks out. "I know, I know. But there really isn't a good way to solve that problem. As far as I know, there is no way for a signal to travel through an isolation field, so the only solution would involve having the bodies resort to some basic protocol if the user suddenly disconnects, but that would be a rudimentary fix at best. I doubt it would be able to put up much of a fight in that state."
"You could always put their souls inside the Soul Gem instead of using it as a receiver."
Madoka immediately shook her head. "No. I am not exposing them to that kind of risk."
"I take the same kind of risks every day," Homura replied. "And they're not amateurs either; they can take care of themselves."
Her lips were pressed in a thin line. "I . . . I need to think about this."
Mami rubbed her chin as she followed along. "I'll admit that the sense of security was comforting. But if it's a liability that can be easily exploited by our enemies . . . then there may be situations where we may wish to forego it."
". . . Right. I'll be sure to keep that in mind."
Sayaka and Kyoko finally finished their bickering and the conversation moved back to more mundane topics. But even as they discussed new culinary trends and the latest in fashion, Homura noticed that Madoka seemed a bit more withdrawn, that her smile was a bit forced. But still, the goddess smiled and laughed like the rest of them as if nothing was amiss.
And if that was the case, then Homura would follow her lead. Because that was the only thing she could do for her friend at that moment.
xxx
Homura stared at the inner confines of her room in the church in Kuoh. It felt like a long time had past since she had last been here, the trip to the Underworld and the subsequent detour to Heaven having taken a lot longer than she had expected.
Despite her absence, Asia had managed to keep everything running smoothly in her absence. Using the funds supplied to them by Heaven on a weekly basis, the nun had even opened a soup kitchen that she had put her newfound talent for cooking to work in.
Asia had been a little apprehensive when she found out, but Homura didn't mind at all; she knew Madoka would approve of the strides the girl was taking, and thus she would as well.
Leaving the nun to her own devices she paced around in the sparse confines of her room. Now that she finally had some spare time, Homura decided that it was time for a long overdue chat with her Sacred Gear.
Remembering the advice she had gained during the experience day, she focused inward, channeling images of flowing, pink locks and a gentle, radiant smile.
What will you sacrifice, for the sake of your goal?
There it was. It felt like calling upon it was easier that time, requiring less effort than before.
I do not intend to offer up anything at the moment. I merely wish to speak with you.
Last time, it had utterly disregarded her after realizing that its services were not required. And it seemed like this time would be no different.
If no sacrifice will be made, then my presence is unnecessary. I have no desire for discourse.
But if she could bait it with the right conversation topic, maybe it would stick around?
I have several inquiries regarding the sacrifices themselves; surely, these should be addressed if you wish for me to call upon you in the future?
There was a pause, as if her Gear was considering her logic.
. . . Continue.
She smiled. Hook, line, and sinker.
I was wondering about the result of the sacrifice I've made so far. It assisted me with my objective at the time, but the way it did so was quite curious.
She recalled Kokabiel's rapid aging, turning from an intimidating general into a feeble old man in but an instant.
Is there some kind of correlation?
The furnace rumbled as it parsed her question. There is. While the effects will always assist you in whatever endeavor you are undertaking, the actual manner in which the effect manifests depend on what you sacrifice.
That made sense. She gave up some of her life against Kokabiel, and his rapid aging could be construed as a form of rapid life-force loss.
Is there a factor that affects the intensity of the effect?
Yes. How important the sacrifice is to you is directly proportional to the intensity of the effect.
She frowned. That was a bit harder to gauge. Not only was she still murky on how important certain things were to her, but the method in which the importance level is converted to the effect's intensity wasn't very clear-cut either.
In the meantime, a different question.
Is there a limit to the number of sacrifices I can make?
No. However, there is a cooldown period after making a sacrifice, and its length depends on how big the sacrifice was and the intensity of the resulting effect.
She nodded, already seeing certain implications for combat purposes. If she wasn't locked into making big offerings, then she could be more flexible with her Gear's usage.
Remember when I was about to sacrifice my memories to you for the power to defeat that devil? What would've happened if the sacrifice had gone through?
It was chilling to think of how close she had been to losing a critical part of her very existence.
At that time, I was merely going to take a portion of your memories. As for the resulting effect, I imagine the devil would have lost ALL his memories, including the reason for why he was even opposing you in the first place.
Only a portion of her memories? That was better than the worst-case scenario she had imagined but depending on what memories the Sacred Gear had decided to take, it still wouldn't have been ideal. At least the resulting effect seemed potent enough.
What about if I were engaged in combat with someone and I sacrificed my physical hand to you; what would the effect be, and how long would the cooldown take?
As a magical girl, she could easily regenerate body parts with her magic. If she could take advantage of that by using her body to fuel these sacrifices, that would give her another tactic to use in fights.
A hand, you say? Your body is not very important to you, so the effect would be low intensity. Assuming your intent is to defeat your opponent, I would hypothesize that the effect would paralyze your opponent's corresponding hand for the remainder of the fight. And the cooldown would be short, perhaps a few seconds at most.
Homura was mildly disappointed. She lost a hand, and her foe merely suffers paralysis? At least the short cooldown meant she could make use of it often.
That seems rather underwhelming.
You misunderstand. A severed hand can be regrown. A diseased hand can be cured. But the paralysis I spoke of is not of the flesh, but of the soul.
The soul?
Indeed. No normal magic would be able to cure the ailment your sacrifice would bring about.
That was more promising. If she could heal the wounds from her sacrifices but her opponent could not, then she could win a fight in a battle of attrition by simply sacrificing various body parts until her opponent couldn't move anymore.
What would happen if the scenario remained the same, but the effect had a higher intensity?
In this instance, a higher intensity would begin affecting things related to the hand. Perhaps your opponent would forget certain muscle-memory actions related to that hand. Perhaps your opponent's entire arm would be paralyzed as well. The higher intensity effects are far more unpredictable than the lower ones.
And what of the cooldown?
If you sacrificed something you truly cared about, the cooldown could last for up to a full day.
Homura nodded thoughtfully. She could work with this. Now that she had a greater understanding on what her Sacred Gear could offer her, she could see new tactics open up for her.
Thank you for taking the time to answer my questions.
Think nothing of it. It would be remiss of me to allow my host to wallow in ignorance. If that is all, then I shall be taking my leave.
The furnace died down, the flames dwindling as they sputtered out, lying dormant until the time she called upon it once more.
She wasn't sure what Azazel had expected when he and the others helped her "open up a line of communication" with her Sacred Gear. Her relationship with it thus far had been entirely businesslike, only interacting with each other when necessary.
And she was fine with that. She hadn't been expecting to make friends with it or anything, and clearly the feeling was mutual. Overall, she was quite happy that her Sacred Gear suited her so well.
That was one thing on her to-do list checked off. That left only one task remaining. A task that was much, much harder despite the fact that it involved the exact same thing:
Talking with someone else.
She recalled Azazel's words. About how her relationship with Madoka was too one-sided. But was it, really? She owed her friend a debt that could never be repaid.
And even after all her efforts, after so many endless, nameless repetitions of the same months over and over, she still couldn't save her friend from the fate that awaited her. Instead, Madoka was forced to save herself, along with every magical girl in existence.
She regretted forcing that burden on her. No matter how great the burden, no matter how her knees trembled under the weight, her friend would shoulder on with loving eyes and a kind smile.
Doing everything she could to ease Madoka's burden was the least she could do, given her past failures.
". . . if it's too one-sided, then she might feel like she's taking advantage of you, y'know?"
But, if even that was causing her to be a burden to her friend, then . . . what was she going to do?
"She would be happy, I think, to have the chance to make you happy."
Was that true? She herself did find some small delight whenever she succeeded in carrying out a task for her, and she had no doubt that her friend found satisfaction in aiding others, but . . . was it right to trouble her friend with such a trivial thing? As the new goddess of Heaven, she must be quite busy.
But there was a small part of her, a fleeting part, that wanted it to be true. That wanted to be acknowledged by her. To be considered valuable, important, irreplaceable.
She needed her. And . . . she wanted to be needed in return.
Mustering up the courage, she opened the link.
"Madoka, I was wondering . . . ."
xxx
Madoka stared at the Holy System with a pout on her face. It had been weeks since she had made her bold promise to the other factions at the peace conference, and she was still nowhere close to figuring out how to uphold it.
She thought it was a great concept; altering the Holy Element to be more effective against those with evil intent was quite symbolic of the alliance's overarching message – that they should not judge people by what they are, but who they are.
But the actual implementation of this idea was harder than she had expected; the Holy System was like a computer, in a way – she had to tell it exactly what to do.
Which meant for this to work, she would have to tell it what evil was; which was quite difficult, since the definition of evil was subject to opinion. She had no doubt that if she asked everyone in Heaven, both the magical girls that she had saved from despair and angels she had taken under her wing, that they would each have slightly, if not wildly varying, different interpretations.
Despite the seemingly insurmountable obstacle in her way, she wasn't deterred. In fact, she felt more motivated than ever to rise to the occasion and overcome this challenge. Because her friend had faced worse for her sake, and if she could persevere through an endless nightmare to reach the miracle at the end, then the least Madoka could do was give it her all.
She wouldn't be able to face Homura if she let such a petty issue discourage her so easily.
Pacing back-and-forth, her thoughts churned. Due to the subjective nature of what she was trying to do, it was obvious that there was going to have to be a judgment call made somewhere in the process. Whether by her personally, someone else, or an automated process remained to be seen.
She had briefly considered personally evaluating every request coming through the Holy System whenever someone was harmed by the Holy Element. Such an idea was quickly discarded because not only was she not comfortable making such calls, she wouldn't be able to process them nearly fast enough to keep up with the demand.
And if she couldn't do it, she doubted anyone else could either. No, the process would have to be at least semi-automatic in some way.
She frowned as a thought struck her. A process that was semi-automatic yet could still make decisions . . . perhaps an artificial intelligence would suit her needs?
Growing up, she had little familiarity with such concepts besides the vague notion that they existed. After her ascension, however, a wealth of knowledge that she had not earned was bestowed upon her so that she might better perform her duties. A general understanding of the world and era she lived in was one such boon.
But even if she knew that an AI might be what she was looking for, she didn't know how to go about making one or even training it to do what she wanted. Her godly encyclopedia was rather blunt on the rather large amounts of data one had to feed it to even remotely approach the behavior one was looking for.
Hmmm. She recalled an interesting tidbit from Homura about how every Longinus, not just the ones with creatures sealed in them, had some sort of consciousness stored in them. But if the consciousness was not that of a sealed creature, then what was it? Was it . . . a consciousness created by the original God for the sole purpose of sealing it in a Sacred Gear?
She didn't know how sentient the entities were, but the very thought made her somewhat uncomfortable. Still, it was the best lead she had.
Diving into the Sacred Gear section of the Holy System, she scoured the various records until she found the area detailing the various Longinus.
Sacred Gear: Boosted Gear
Current Host: Issei Hyoudou
Residential Aid: Red Dragon Emperor (Ddraig)
Abilities: The power to break boundaries and surpass any limitations.
The records seemed like a brief overview of each Sacred Gear along with who the wielders were. She skimmed over most of the information, lingering just slightly on the category labeled "Residential Aid."
That looks like what I'm looking for! Now to find a Longinus that doesn't have a creature sealed in it . . . .
Her eyes darted down the page until she spotted a very familiar name.
Sacred Gear: Incinerate Anthem
Current Host: Homura Akemi
Residential Aid: The Merchant of Miracles (Creation Aid #15243)
Abilities: The power to wield the holy flame and achieve the impossible.
She smiled upon finding her friend's name in the system. She had half-expected Homura's entry to be glitched out one way or another given their status as beings from around world, but it seemed like God's system was robust enough to handle cases like that.
And while that was interesting, she was far more interested in "The Merchant of Miracles." Who was also apparently "Creation Aid #15243"? Either way, the tag "Creation Aid" essentially confirmed her suspicions on the origin of these particular "Residential Aids."
Now, I just need to somehow figure out how to replicate one of the original God's works. No big deal!
Browsing through the system some more, she was pleasantly surprised to find that the Longinus section had a button titled "Generate new Creation Aid." That made things a lot easier.
The menu that popped up upon clicking it, however, immediately changed her mind.
I . . . I don't know what any of this means.
The entire screen was filled with jargon that she didn't understand. Analogical Reasoning? Neural Networks? Backward Chaining? She was utterly lost.
I think . . . I'll just stick to the defaults and see what happens.
Hitting one confirmation button after another, the System whirred as it began a process that she had no understanding of but hoped that it worked anyway.
And with a ding that could only mean success, the machine stopped.
"Greetings, my lady. I am Creation Aid #49827. For what purpose have you created me for?"
Madoka was startled at the sudden address. Had . . . had that really worked? Was the act of creation . . . really so easy?
"O – oh, hi! Please, call me Madoka. And as for your purpose, I was hoping you could help me with something."
"Of course, lady Madoka. If you have a task for me, simply inform me of the relevant details and I will get started right away."
"W – Well, I was going to ask you to help me make judgment calls . . ."
"I can handle making decisions, given sufficient data. What, exactly, are these 'judgment calls'?"
"I need you to be able to tell if someone is evil."
There was a pause. With how quick it was to respond before, Madoka was momentarily afraid that something had gone wrong, that her newest creation had just died in front of her and she would have no idea why –
"Evil? That is a difficult category to sort by. Do you have the necessary data for me to parse?"
"Um . . . not yet . . . ."
"That is unfortunate. Without the necessary tables, I cannot do anything." Another pause. "Is there anything else?"
"Uh, not really? I'm sorry, this is all so sudden –"
"Fret not, lady Madoka. If the memory banks of my predecessors serve me correctly, even the Father himself had trouble deciding what to do with some of his new creations."
She let out a small sigh of relief. "Thanks . . . that's reassuring to hear."
She could almost feel it nodding at her. "If that is all, then I shall be entering a state of hibernation until you have need of me. Farewell, lady Madoka."
"Wait!"
A pause. "Is something the matter?"
"I . . . I want to give you a name."
"A name? I already have a designation: Creation Aid #498 –"
"No, no!" Madoka shook her head. "That's not a name, that's just a generated label. A name is something, something more . . . it is something personal, and something to be treasured."
". . . I see. If you so desire to grant me such a thing, then I will not object."
Madoka thought hard. About what she wanted to name this nameless, faceless entity of hers. The amount of responsibility she felt for it was . . . overwhelming. It was because of her that it existed, and it will be because of her if it flourished or fell.
Was this how parents felt, she wondered? Was this how her own mother felt whenever she asked her for help?
". . . Yume."
"Pardon?"
"Yume." She nodded firmly. "That is your name."
"I see. Thank you very much for this gift, lady Madoka."
She smiled. "I hope you like it."
"I would be overjoyed no matter what name you chose to bestow on me, lady Madoka. Now, if that is all, I must take my leave; as a newborn, I grow wearier much sooner than some of my older siblings."
"Of course, of course. Have a good rest, Yume-chan!"
". . . Thank you."
She could feel a presence fade, a sense of hollowness that left just as quickly as it came. But even so, a smile was still on her face. Because she had finally made progress, and she had made a new friend on top of that!
Still on cloud nine, she got up and began heading to her room, intending to take a rest after such a long bout of work.
She paused as Homura suddenly contacted her, listening carefully to what her friend had to say.
As she listened, her smile grew wider and wider.
"Why, I would love to, Homura-chan!"
xxx
"That was so much fun! Thanks for inviting me out here, Homura-chan!"
The two of them were sitting on a bench at an amusement park, a popular tourist location in Kuoh that normally drew flocks of people. However, it was a bit less crowded today, likely due to it being a weekday.
The supernatural did not tend to work normal hours, which Homura was quite grateful for. She had never been to an amusement park before, but she couldn't imagine waiting for hours to experience some of the attractions.
Due to their auspicious timing, they had been able to go on every single ride in the park at least once. Some of the slower, more relaxing ones were popular contenders for their most ridden attraction. Some of the more intense rides were quickly placed on their "never again" list.
She gave a small smile in response. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself."
Madoka bobbed her head up and down, eyes glancing at people passing by. "I'm a bit surprised though," she said. "I never thought you would invite me out on a trip like this."
Homura's eyes darted downwards. "I'm a bit surprised myself," she confessed.
Golden eyes turned to regard her closely. "Oh? Penny for your thoughts, then?"
She didn't quite know how to express her feelings. There was a fuzzy feeling inside her, a warmth that seemed to be drawn out by her friend's very presence. Spending time with her like this, eating, talking, laughing . . . it made her feel happy.
"I did it because I wanted to," she said. "Because I thought it would make you happy. And . . ."
"Because I thought it would make me happy too."
The last part was soft, almost a whisper. She wasn't sure if her friend had heard her, wasn't sure if she wanted Madoka to have overheard, but the pleased look adorning her face was a clear indicator that she had.
"I'm glad," Madoka said. "It's important to take care of yourself, and if you ever want me to be there for you, just say the word and I'll happily come along."
"I'll keep it in mind."
A happy silence fell between them, a peaceful, tranquil air wrapping itself around the two of them. But as comfortable as it was, it was not destined to last. For Homura had an inkling in the back of her mind, a query that had sprouted from their conversation back in Heaven.
"Madoka?"
A smile. "Yes, Homura-chan?"
"Back in Heaven, when I suggested that you put the other girls' souls into the Soul Gems of the bodies, you discarded the idea because you were worried about their safety."
Her smile slowly slipped away. "Yes . . . I did."
"But I take the same risks every day. And I've gone on a lot of missions for you."
She slowly nodded.
"Then . . ." Her voice cracked, the words stumbling over themselves as they struggled their way through her windpipe. "Why – Why don't you try to stop me? Are you – are you just not as worried about me?"
"Of course I worry!"
Homura flinched from her raised voice. Madoka stood up, gripping her by the shoulders and staring at her right in the eyes.
"Every day you're away from me, I pray for your safety. Every time I send you on a mission, I hesitate, wondering if it'll be too much, if it'll be the one you won't return from, if it'll be my fault I lose you forever!"
She was crying. Homura numbly realized this as droplets slowly trickled down into her lap, their wetness a stark reminder that this was her fault, she made Madoka cry –
"Every day I wonder if I shouldn't just ask you to come to Heaven and keep you there with me forever," Madoka murmured.
"T – Then . . . why don't you? You know I would, if you just asked . . . ."
She smiled sadly. "And that right there is the problem."
Homura blinked. "W – What?"
The goddess sighed and leaned back into the bench. "If I stopped asking you to go out on those missions for me, how would you feel?"
"I . . . I would feel –"
Worthless.
Old memories were dredged up, memories of one failure after another. Failure after failure after failure . . . they all blurred together, one big expanse of hopelessness and regret.
In the end, she couldn't do anything right. She couldn't save anyone. Even when she abandoned everyone else, sacrificing most of her humanity in the process, she still couldn't save the one person who truly mattered.
Madoka had to save herself. Even after being granted countless retries, all of Homura's efforts were in vain.
Useless.
She hadn't said anything, her body still frozen in a stoic silence. But it seemed that Madoka could tell; she knew exactly what kind of thoughts were running through her head.
"That is why," she said softly. "I knew that if I tried to stop you, it would only end up hurting you."
She was right, Homura realized. The missions, the tasks . . . even the smallest chore gave her meaning, gave her purpose. They filled her with life, with the notion that she was useful, that someone, no, Madoka needed her.
It's all my fault. If it weren't for my weakness, I wouldn't be causing her so much trouble right now.
". . . I'm sorry," she whispered. "E – Even now, I can't do anything right, can I? I'll always be such a useless, pathetic burden –"
Soft arms wrapped her in a loving embrace, cutting off her self-depreciating tirade.
"Don't say that," Madoka said softly. "You're not a burden. I have never even thought of you as such." She stroked her back gently, a soothing, comforting caress. "You've done plenty for me already, Homura-chan. I wouldn't even be here today if it weren't for you." She nuzzled herself closer, her voice dropping even lower. "You may not have saved me yourself, but it's because of you that I had the opportunity to save myself at all. Me, and countless other magical girls. We all owe you a debt of gratitude that can never be repaid."
She glanced up, dazzling golden irises dancing across her vision. "It's not much, but let me say this one more time, to my very best friend."
"Thank you very much, Homura-chan!"
A dam broke somewhere within her. She wasn't sure when it happened, but a river of tears was pouring out of her, a current that wrestled its way past her normally strict self-control and out into the world for everyone to see.
It was all too much. Those sincere words of gratitude, words that she had always wanted to hear, from the person she had always wanted to hear it from . . . it was like a dream come true.
She was valued. She was important. She was . . . her very best friend.
She pressed herself against Madoka, savoring the contact, feeling the warmth, the comfort, the acceptance exuding from her friend's very presence.
"You don't need to push yourself for my sake," the goddess whispered. "You've already worked tirelessly for my sake already. No one would begrudge you for taking a well-deserved rest."
Was it really okay? To live in Heaven, together with Madoka . . . it would be a dream come true. But it wouldn't be fair to Madoka, for her to be working constantly while she sat around twiddling her thumbs; she couldn't accept that.
"I still want to help," she murmured. "I want to ease your burden wherever I can. It's not fair if you have to do all the work."
Madoka sighed softly at Homura's stubborn desire to help her. "I understand. If that's what you really want, I won't stop you." She smiled sadly. "Just be careful, alright?"
"I will."
They sat together like that a while longer, nestled in each other's embrace. It was a pleasant, relaxing sensation, like every knot of tension in her body was slowly being unwound.
Nothing had changed, really. Madoka was still the goddess of Heaven, still laden with all the work that entailed. Homura would still do her best to help her friend as much as she could, taking on the odd job or mission here and there.
But she felt better now. She felt more . . . satisfied. Confident. Perhaps even . . . happy.
If this is what happiness felt like . . .
She wanted to hold onto this feeling and never let it go.
xxx
Madoka softly patted her friend's head. "Feeling better now?"
Homura's composure had returned, her face a cool mask of indifference that belayed her emotional outburst just moments prior. "Yes, I . . . I think I needed that."
Madoka smiled. She couldn't possibly pretend to understand what her friend was going through, but she knew that everyone needed a shoulder to cry on at some point.
And she would be happy to lend hers whenever Homura need it.
She was just glad that the amusement park's traffic had been so low today; no one had witnessed their little private moment.
"Well, today sure was an eventful day!" She got up and clasped her hands together. "Thank you again, Homura-chan, for inviting me to this little outing; Heaven can get so stuffy at times."
Homura nodded. "I'm glad you had fun."
Madoka pouted and lightly hit her on the shoulder. "Aren't you forgetting someone? Did you have fun, Homura-chan?"
Her friend blushed and looked away. "Y – Yes. I did."
The goddess smiled. "I'm glad." She turned around and peered into the distance. "We should probably call it a day. If I'm not mistaken, the park closes soon, right?"
"Indeed. Only fifteen minutes left, I believe."
"We better get going before they start shooing us out, then!"
As the two of them began walking, Madoka quickly noticed something strange. It seemed . . . quiet. Unnaturally so. Even late in the day on a weekday like this, there should still have been movement about: vendors packing up, staff members cleaning up, enthusiasts trying to hitch last-minute rides . . . but there was none of that.
In fact, she couldn't see anyone else at all.
"Madoka!" Homura hissed.
Her eyes darted towards the sound and she saw her friend crouched down.
Right next to her, a body was collapsed on the ground.
She rushed over, worry written all over her face. "What happened?! Is he okay?"
Homura's hands hovered over the body, a frown on her face as she scrutinized the body wearing the staff uniform of the amusement park. "He's breathing fine. No wounds as far as I can tell. It's like he just fell asleep on the spot."
Madoka's eyes scanned the surroundings. She hadn't been paying close attention to the ground before, but now that she was looking more closely, she noticed several more fallen bodies that had escaped her notice before.
"Should we call for help?" she asked.
"If the perpetrators are from the supernatural side, we must exercise caution. They may still be about, and doing anything to provoke them would be risky, especially with so many innocents caught in the midst of it all."
Madoka grimaced. She didn't like it, but Homura was right. With so many innocent lives at stake, they couldn't afford a single misstep –
Movement. Someone was moving over there.
"Homura-chan!" she whispered. "There's someone over there!" She pointed.
Following her outstretched arm, her friend's gaze quickly latched onto the figure in the distance. "Let's wait and see what they do," she murmured. "We don't know if they're friend or foe."
The figure moved, lurching forward with an awkward gait. The dim lighting obscured most of their features, casting most of their body in a sea of darkness. They stopped, doubling over as if they were in pain, clawing at their stomach with frenzied motions.
The figure screamed, a horrifying shriek as something burst out of their body, murky black outlines slowly reforming into the shape of a very familiar mermaid-knight . . .
Madoka gasped as a pounding headache struck her. She recognized this energy; she had inscribed the runes necessary to channel this power with her own hands, after all.
But something was wrong. The energy was unstable, out of control. There was no anchor, nothing with a concrete soul to keep it in check. It was like the vessel had been tainted with the witch's influence and filled to the brim with a soulless solution of life energy, no will, no driving force . . . just pure, raw instinct.
It was a being that was infinitely close to being a witch. So close that she could feel power from her other self surge through her, power used to fulfill her one and only long-standing duty: to erase all witches with her own hands.
But at the same time, it was not a witch. There was no Soul Gem, no magical girl for her to save. It was merely an empty husk, set wild by someone else.
It was a contradiction. She could feel the headache grow worse as the power within her fluctuated, waxing and waning in equal measure as it struggled to decide on the correct course of action.
"Madoka? Are you alright?"
She blinked, forcing the pain to the back of her mind. "I – I'm fine."
Homura's gaze was skeptical, but she seemed to give her a pass as she turned back towards the figure in the distance. "I believe we've found one of our missing bodies: Sayaka's, if the witch with it is any indication –"
A bloodcurdling shriek. The witch raised its arms in the air, a gleaming black saber in its grip. It plunged down, and a sickening squelch could be heard, blood spraying into the air.
Madoka could only look on in horror. It was difficult to make out at this distance, but she could faintly see the witch hunched over an unmoving, bloodstained body.
A body belonging to one of the innocents passed out in the park.
It – It's going around killing anyone in sight!
She felt numb. Their decision to wait-and-see had cost someone else their life. A death that could have been easily prevented if only they had acted sooner – !
No! No moping! We have to do something now, or there's just going to be more victims!
"Homura-chan! We have to stop it!"
Homura had already gotten up, poised to rush in. "I'll deal with the witch. You go evacuate the nearby civilians."
Madoka knew that their roles were deliberately selected to keep her out of the fight, but she didn't intend to argue this time. She didn't know how much help she would be in a fight with a headache raging in the back of her mind and getting the civilians to safety was an important task as well.
She could only hope that no more lives would be lost this day.
xxx
It had been a long time since Homura fought a witch, but she still remembered the basics.
One: don't get swarmed by familiars. That was one of the quickest ways to get bogged down and summarily executed.
Two: always be moving. A moving target was hard to hit and losing any bodily function to a debilitating hit could be fatal.
Three: expect the unexpected. Surprises were a death sentence on the battlefield, and she had seen many girls defeated by an ambush or surprise tactic set up by a witch.
Of course, this was no normal witch, but the rules still generally applied.
Even this close, it was still impossible to discern her opponent's features. The vessel had vanished, swallowed up by its emerging witch form. The witch was cloaked in a river of darkness, droplets dripping like ink and reforming into familiars.
Dark Oktavia roared, rushing at her with its saber bared as it led the charge with several familiars.
She could've used her teleportation magic to avoid the attack entirely, but that put the innocents behind her at risk. And if her friend happened to be evacuating those same innocents at the same time, that constituted an unacceptable risk.
Luckily, she had another way of dealing with enemies now.
The furnace fired up, its coals heating at the very mention of its name.
What will you sacrifice for the sake of your goal?
And this time, she had an answer for it.
Hand.
Her wrist snapped, bending at an awkward angle. At the same time, an invisible current shot outward, colliding with the charging witch and disappearing without a trace.
The witch's hands grew limp. Suddenly finding that it had lost its grip on its weapon, the witch fumbled, the saber crashing to the ground and crushing several of its familiars.
Using her other hand, she sent out a wave of holy flame, incinerating the few familiars that managed to get close.
By the time the ashes had began to settle, her magic had already healed her hand.
Dark Oktavia snarled at her. Abandoning its attempts to retrieve its weapon, it raised its arms and giant wheel spokes materialized, spinning rapidly in the air before crashing down with deadly force.
Drawing back her bow, she shot at one of them, using the collision to slow it down. As its spinning slowed to a manageable level, she grabbed one of its spokes and channeled her magic.
It vanished and reappeared in front of several of its brethren, creating a chain of collisions that resulted in a messy pile of wood.
Before the witch could come up with another attack, Homura moved in for the kill.
Leg.
Her leg gave out, but that was fine. She could simply teleport around while it healed.
Her foe, on the other hand did not have such a luxury.
The witch roared as its lower body gave out, flopping to the ground in an undignified heap. More familiars poured out of its inky body, standing in a defensive ring around their fallen master.
All grouped up like that, Homura appreciated them making this easier for her.
A torrent of arrows rained down, cutting the minions down in droves. More clawed their way out, but many died before they could even fully materialize.
Several times, the witch made movements as if it was going to try something new. Each time, Homura sacrificed another part of her body, further immobilizing her opponent.
Arms. Back. Eyes. Ears.
She wasn't going to give her opponent any leeway whatsoever.
At last, the witch was exposed. The inkwell ran dry, and the familiars stopped coming. With only a paralyzed body at its disposal, it could only glare in hate as Homura stepped forward to give it the finishing blow.
Burn in hell.
It couldn't move. It couldn't even scream as purple flames engulfed its head, burning it to nothing.
With her enemy vanquished, she glanced around, trying to spot her friend –
There. Madoka was carrying someone, trying to bring them to the park's entrance, away from her fight.
She stepped forward, intending to go help –
Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a black ribbon snaking forward. It darted silently, rapidly creeping up on the unsuspecting goddess.
Her eyes widened as her lips parted to shout a warning –
She knew she wouldn't make it in time.
xxx
Madoka panted heavily as she set down the burden she had been carrying through the park, past several rides, a dozen refreshment stands, and one destructive fight. It joined the group of several other bodies she had transported thus far, bringing the total to about half a dozen.
Her head was pounding as she refreshed the barrier she had placed around the unconscious civilians, a simple defensive ward that would defend the helpless innocents from attack. As soon as her spell took form, she felt herself stumble, a lance of pain drilling into her head –
She grimaced as she clutched her head and waited for the pain to subside. Her headache had persisted ever since the faux-witch had appeared, and it showed no sign of disappearing anytime soon. The pain was tolerable, for the most part, but whenever she used magic it intensified, like the very act was throwing fuel onto the figurative fire.
When it finally passed, she sighed in relief.
No time to rest now. There might still be other civilians trapped in a vulnerable spot!
She retraced her steps, making sure to keep a wide berth around the area where her friend and the faux-witch battled it out.
Part of her, the part that worried every second Homura wasn't in Heaven with her, wanted nothing more than to rush back into the clearing and lend her friend some help. It was not fair that Homura had to put herself in danger once again for her sake.
But another part knew that this was her friend's decision, and that this was bigger than just the two of them. There were others she had a responsibility to, a duty to answer the prayers she received under the guise of God.
She was a false shepherd, but she would tend to the sheep all the same. It was just who she was.
Spying another man fallen near a refreshment stand, she rushed over. The man's garb seemed a bit different from the others she had saved, a tad bit more extravagant than usual.
It seemed like a rather trivial detail, so she ignored it and swept him up in her arms, turning around and beginning to head back –
Cloth rustled. A flash of steel.
Pain.
Madoka gasped as she stumbled backwards, hands already pressed against the stab wound on the side of her dress.
The man spun in mid-air, landing softly on his feet. He peered at her with a blank expression, and she had but a glimpse of menacing, hazel eyes before a magic circle flashed underneath him, whisking him away.
Madoka didn't know why the enemy had lain an ambush for her only to retreat after the first strike, but she wasn't about to question it right now. Bracing herself, she channeled magic through her hands, sealing the wound with a soft light.
Blinding agony pierced through her skull once more, but she bit her lip and persevered. Even if her foes were willing to play dirty and stoop to disguising themselves amongst the innocents she sought to protect, that wasn't going to deter her from fulfilling her duty to the best of her ability.
As she staggered away in search of someone else to save, she didn't even notice the bloodstain that had been left behind.
Nor did she notice the taint spreading through the puddle of blood, coloring it a deep, sinister black.
xxx
Madoka felt feverish. Her entire body felt like it had slowed down to a crawl, every movement was like wading through water.
But still she pressed on, putting one foot in front of another as she tried to carry yet another unconscious civilian to safety.
She didn't know how long it had been. She didn't even know if she was going in the right direction. But her feet seemed to remember, and they carried her true through the twists and turns of the amusement park.
The constant sound of battle, a cacophony of crashes, thuds, and roars had faded at some point. She hoped it meant that Homura had won.
She didn't even want to think about the alternative.
But even as she tried to trust in the belief that her friend could take care of herself, she felt her resolve weaken. She had to check, at the very least. And if Homura was done with her battle, that meant she could lend a hand with moving the civilians to safety!
Her feet shifted, bringing her closer to the clearing where she had left her friend and the faux-witch to battle it out. As it came into view, she felt a wave of relief wash over her.
Homura stood there, triumphant. The blackened remains of some creature lied near her, likely the fallen witch.
She saw her friend glance around. She could feel it when their eyes met, mutual feelings of relief passing between them instantaneously.
She also felt it when something was wrong, when Homura's eyes widened in panic and her mouth opened to shout a warning –
Glancing slightly behind her, she saw a blackened ribbon stretching out towards her. It was connected to another black behemoth, another familiar shape twisted with dark energies.
At full strength, she could've avoided it easily. But weakened as she was, with both the lack of faith and her headache crippling her abilities, she could only watch it approach with a sense of mounting dread.
The ribbon shot forward –
xxx
Homura felt her world slow to a crawl.
It was not the same feeling as her time stops of old; this was simply the adrenaline pumping through her, giving her the crucial time she needed to weigh her options, evaluate her choices, and make her decision.
Madoka was in danger and she had to remove the threat immediately.
Her magic was too slow. Her holy flames were too slow. There was only one thing fast enough for her need.
A sacrifice.
It was a risky gamble. She didn't know if this would stop the witch, and if it failed, she would have to waste precious seconds healing herself before she could go after it.
But this was her best bet.
Heart.
Something exploded inside her, spraying the insides of her ribs with blood. Blinding pain shot through her as a wave of nausea swept over her, forcing her to her knees.
In the distance, a pained screech tore through the air and the witch tumbled down, black ooze seeping out of its midriff.
The ribbon that had been so close to snagging Madoka stiffened and stalled, crumbling to ashes.
She saw her friend sway and stumble, and the next thing she knew she had rushed over, catching Madoka in her arms before she could topple over.
"Homura-chan . . . ?" Her voice was barely a murmur. "I guess you saved me again." A weak chuckled.
But Homura didn't hear any of those words. As soon as she saw the blood staining the goddess's dress and her poor condition, she felt something freeze inside her.
"What happened?! Who did this to you?!"
"Oh, that?" Her eyes blearily glanced down. "It's alright, I healed it already. And whoever did it ran away right after, so there's not much point in chasing after them."
Homura gritted her teeth in anger. This shouldn't have happened. It was her weakness that called Madoka out here tonight, and now her friend was once again the one who paid the price for her mistakes.
"Don't blame yourself."
She looked at her friend in surprise as the goddess spoke up with a surprisingly steeled voice.
"You're thinking that this is your fault, isn't it? That since you invited me here, you're to blame if anything happened to me. But that's not true." Madoka twisted out of Homura's grip, landing softly on the ground with a firm hold on the person she had been carrying. "I was the one who accepted your invitation. I was the one who decided to come here, knowing full well the danger that might befall me in the event of an enemy attack. The fault lies with me alone."
Her voice softened, dropping to a whisper.
"So don't blame yourself, alright? Homura-chan?"
She didn't want to accept it. But with that compassionate gaze pinning her in place, those worried eyes pleading with her to let her friend take responsibility . . . she couldn't find the will to argue.
". . . Okay."
A smile. "Thank you, Homura-chan."
A roar resounded in the distance. Both of them spun around toward its direction, glancing around warily. They both knew there was a third faux-witch unaccounted for, and neither of them wished to be caught off-guard again.
"You needn't worry about that one. My peerage is taking care of it as we speak."
A regal young woman with crimson hair approached them. The two of them relaxed upon seeing her.
"Gremory-san," Madoka greeted her with a smile. "Your arrival is most welcome. But are you sure it is wise to let your peerage handle an unknown enemy by themselves?"
"They have grown quite a bit since I've met them. I'm sure they can handle themselves." Her gaze landed on the civilian in Madoka's arms and her face clouded over. "I only wish we had arrived sooner. Then, maybe innocent lives wouldn't have been needlessly lost."
Homura had a frigid look on her face. "Perhaps if you kept better track of what happened in your territory, none of this would have happened."
Before Madoka could admonish her for that jab, Rias held up a hand. "No, you're right. We didn't expect another attack so soon after the assault in the Underworld, and we let our guards down. As one of the overseers of Kuoh, it was my failing that led to this outcome." She bowed her head. "I know that there is nothing I can say to earn your forgiveness –"
"Please, raise your head, Gremory-san." Madoka's expression was strained, but she maintained a smile despite it. "We are in an alliance, are we not? We share in each other's victories, but it also means we share in each other's failings. There are a number of things we each could've done to prevent this tragedy; if I had announced myself before coming here as I should have, you would've been more careful with your security, no?"
The other girl paused. ". . . Yes, that is true."
"So as you can see, we are both at fault. Let's just leave it at that and tend to those who need our aid, alright?"
Rias gave a faint smile. "Very well then, Madoka-sama."
"Buchou!" A brown-haired boy and his cohorts came running over. "We finished off . . . whatever that was! What should we –" He stopped and stared when he saw who his King was talking to.
"Good work, all of you," Rias said. "Now we must secure all the civilians who were caught up in all of this." She nodded at the man in Madoka's arms. "Seeing as how there is already a group of them at the front entrance, that is where we will gather them. Understood?"
A chorus of "Yes, Buchou!" and they were on their way.
Rias nodded in satisfaction as her peerage dispersed. She turned back towards the two of them. "I'm afraid I'll have to ask the two of you to stick around to answer some questions after this. But you may leave the rest of the clean-up to us, if you wish."
Homura would've been perfectly fine with letting the devils handle things, but when Madoka shook her head and insisted on helping find the rest of the civilians, she inwardly sighed in resignation.
Today had been a long day, and it looked like it was going to get even longer.
xxx
When her headache had disappeared after Rias and her peerage dealt with the last faux-witch, Madoka thought that had been the end of it.
But the empty void slowly consuming her from within, growing ever larger and larger, seemed to want to disagree with that notion.
She staggered forward, leaning against the Holy System for support. The impromptu Q&A session with Rias had taken a while, and it had been late at night when she finally returned to Heaven.
She wasn't sure when the pain had started. She thought it might have begun during her conversation with Rias, but she couldn't be too sure. With the immense pain of the headache fresh in her mind, the early symptoms of her current ailment must have gone unnoticed in comparison.
"Welcome back, lady Madoka. Did you have a nice trip?"
The soft, soothing voice of the AI she had created brought a smile to her face despite the pain. "It was wonderful, Yume-chan. I had a lot of fun."
"Very good, lady Madoka. Have you brought me any new data to process?"
A brief moment of confusion, and then she realized Yume was talking about her intention to give the AI the momentous task of determining who could be considered evil.
"Not yet, I'm afraid." She winced as a spear of agony tore through her.
"That is unfortunate. With the sample size I would need for the task you wish to assign me, it would be best if I began as soon as possible."
Madoka laughed softly. "I'll try to get back to you as soon as possible, Yume-chan."
"That is all I ask for." A pause. "Are you well, lady Madoka? There is highly unstable energy fluctuating within your body."
She grimaced as the void inside her continued to feed, swelling like a bloated tumor. ". . . You can tell?"
"Indeed. While every living creature contains a certain amount of both positive and negative energy, there seems to an imbalance in your body. The amount of negative energy in your case is dangerously high. And it is continuing to grow."
Madoka gasped as the cold hollowness spread to her limbs, icy tendrils rendering her entire body numb. "Can you . . . can you tell what it is?"
"Judging by the archives left behind by the original God, the energy seems to most closely align with a form of negative human emotion. I believe the closest match is:"
"Despair."
Madoka thought it was cruelly ironic how she, the one who gave hope to magical girls in the throes of despair, was in the process of succumbing to despair herself.
"But – but how? I should not – should not be able to despair!" She recalled the conversation she had with Michael a long time ago, the one where he brought up his concerns with the constant burden she built over the course of her duty.
"I do not know the exact cause. But there seems to be a foreign substance inside your body, one that is actively interfering with your divine energies."
She gasped. That was a lead; a vast improvement over the state of clueless agony she had been in moments before.
"Can you do anything about it?!" she asked, no, almost demanded.
". . . I'm sorry. But there is nothing I can do. I do not have the necessary permissions."
Another stab of pain. "Is there anything I can do to give you permission?"
"No. It is one of the fail-safes the original God put into his system; none of my brethren nor I can do anything to whoever creates us."
Madoka felt a wave of literal despair overtake her. This was it. She was going to succumb, and the fallout would kill everyone and destroy everything she held dear. Perhaps her other self would be able to notice and intervene, but this far away, over in another dimension, she didn't know how much influence the Law of Cycles would be able to exert.
There was no hope left for her, she who was but a mere fragment of a greater whole. But was there anything she could do, anything at all that might save the others? Those who prayed to her for salvation, those smiling, laughing faces who didn't deserve to be erased so soon?
A memory rose, unbidden. A memory of a doomed timeline, one where both she and Homura were about to despair after defeating Walpurgisnacht.
She had given up her last Grief Seed to save her friend. Because she had known that that was where hope had lain, their best chance for a happy ending.
And she remembered the last favor she had asked of her, that last, cruel favor . . .
It was her only shot.
She stumbled over to the doors of the throne room, throwing them open. "Michael-kun? Are you there? Please answer me!"
xxx
As the one who wore the mantle of Heaven before a new goddess graced them with her presence, Michael had plenty of experience with managing the day-to-day affairs of Heaven.
And while their new leader had the necessary personality and attitude to succeed in her new position, her ability to micromanage the logistical details of the Heavenly Host was lacking, to say the least.
But that was fine. Everyone had their weaknesses, and Michael did not mind covering for her on this matter.
He had been finishing up some last-minute administrative duties when he heard Madoka call out for him.
"Is something wrong, Madoka-sama?"
She looked frazzled; her hair was unkempt, and she had a desperate, wild look on her face. It unnerved him to see the normally composed goddess so unsettled.
"I need you to come with me," she said.
He was surprised as she dragged him along but didn't protest. As soon as they were within the confines of the throne room, she whirled back around to face him.
"Do you remember," she said softly, "when you came here to ask me about the burden I shouldered?"
He nodded carefully. "Yes, I do recall."
She smiled sadly. "I'm afraid I may have gotten a bit careless, Michael-kun," she said forlornly.
A chill ran through his body as her words sunk in. Her appearance, her actions, her words . . . they all hinted towards a conclusion that he dared not entertain.
But for the sake of those he had a duty to protect, those that relied on him and depended on his guidance, he had to ask.
"What . . . do you mean, exactly?" he asked slowly.
"I'm dying."
It was so simple. Just two words.
Michael felt his entire world begin to shatter under the weight of those two words.
No. Not again! First Father, and now her . . . why?!
But that wasn't all, was it? He could tell; there was more bad news she had yet to tell him, and he knew he wasn't going to like it when the other shoe dropped.
He took a deep breath, trying to clear his airway of the emotions that threatened to clog them, forcing himself to remain calm. He couldn't afford to make any hasty decisions.
"How did this happen?" he asked quietly.
"I was attacked when I went out," she said simply. "It was supposed to be a simple social event. But somehow, the enemy found out and set up an ambush for me." She laughed dryly, but there was no humor in her voice. "I don't know what they struck me with, but it's interfering with my divine powers. Including my ability to shoulder this burden of mine."
She winced and fell forward. Michael was there in an instant, holding her by the shoulders to keep her upright.
"Thanks for that, Michael-kun," she said weakly.
He barely heard her words, such was the turmoil in his mind. What would Heaven do now, without a goddess at its helm? It was callous of him to be thinking of such a scenario already, when she still lived and breathed among them, but he knew it was necessary for the greater good. Not just Heaven, but the fate of the Biblical factions as a whole could be determined by what happened next.
But before that, there was one more thing he still needed to do.
"Is there anything I can do?" he asked.
Her eyes stared into him, those beautiful, gold irises that had captivated him when he met her so long ago.
"I need you to kill me," she whispered.
It was like the world had been swept from under his feet. Deep down, he had known that this day might someday come, that one day the burden might prove to be too great for her and overwhelm her with its malice, twisting her into some unspeakable horror.
He had held this fear ever since she humored his concerns.
Now it was coming true right before his eyes.
He knew the answer already, but he needed to hear her say it. ". . . Why?"
She sighed and leaned closer, her entire body trembling. "Because when I succumb, I will turn into the greatest monster the world has ever seen," she murmured. "Millions will die on the first day. And in seven days, I will have unmade everything your creator worked so hard to bring about."
The numbness spread throughout his body as she confirmed each of his fears one-by-one, until he couldn't even feel his body anymore. But maybe that was a good thing; he had never been good at killing in cold-blood, but perhaps this sense of detachment would aid him in overcoming his revulsion.
"Will you do it?"
He wanted to say "no." He wanted to wrap her in his arms and say that they could find another way, a way that didn't involve her dying, didn't involve him killing the one person he had placed his belief in after so long –
But reality was cruel, and not all stories had happy endings.
He almost didn't notice when she fell backwards out of his arms, collapsing to her knees as she clutched at her head, her face contorted in agony.
She shot him one last look, one desperate, final plea.
There was only one thing he could say.
". . . I understand."
He almost wavered then, when her expression shifted into one of relief and she smiled at him, a warm, happy smile that should have always been on her face.
He crumpled his feelings into a tiny ball and shoved them into a wastebasket in the far reaches of his mind.
They had no place here.
A light spear manifested in his hand, a beautiful, majestic weapon that had no business being used as an executioner's tool.
". . . Do you have any last requests?"
She sighed, a look of peace crossing her face.
"Please tell Homura-chan that – that –" She faltered, trying to choke her words through the emotion.
"Please tell her I'm sorry."
He closed his eyes as he seared her last words into his memory.
"It will be done."
He thrust forward, his spear aimed unerringly at the goddess's heart –
There was resistance. For a brief, terrible moment he thought that he had done it, that he had skewered the kind, innocent goddess on his bloody tool of war –
"Now, now, I can't let you cut off my fun when it hadn't even begun yet."
When he opened his eyes and saw a hand gripping the shaft of his weapon, stopping it in its tracks, he felt a wave of relief wash over him.
That relief quickly turned to dread when he realized who it was that had stopped him.
"Rizevim!" he hissed. "What are you – how did you even –"
The son of the original Lucifer laughed at his bafflement. "What am I doing here? Stopping you, of course. I needed to make sure that my investment paid off. As for the how, well –" He grinned, a devilish glint entering his eyes. "Your alliance is a double-edged sword, you know? Sneaking into Heaven is a lot easier when the angels don't question every devil in their territory."
A security risk that he made a note to address later. But there was a more pressing issue to deal with right now –
A gasp drew his attention. Madoka had fallen to the ground curled in a fetal position, her entire body quivering with pain.
"The end is near! The star of Heaven will crash upon this earth as a dark comet, engulfing the world in a darkness that will last for eternity!"
Michael wrestled with the devil for control of his spear but found his opponent's steel grip to be unyielding. Desperate, he stepped back and began conjuring light spears in the air, shooting them towards his target –
A black barrier manifested, absorbing every one of his attacks.
"The end is nigh! Beg your goddess for mercy all you like, for she will show you none!"
A shriek filled the air. It was Madoka, her mouth wide open in an endless scream of agony, black tendrils dancing all around her body.
It was too late. Michael turned tail and ran; he needed to warn the others, let them know to prepare for the greatest threat yet –
"Despair, ye fools! For the end is here!"
A tidal wave of darkness poured out of the goddess, consuming them all.
xxx
The Law of Cycles opened her eyes, tilting her head to glance far off into the distance.
A witch had been born. An unnatural witch created in a world where there should have been none. It was that same world it had split off a shard to send over so long ago.
But that mattered little. A witch had appeared, and thus she knew exactly what must be done.
Another shard split off the universal law and hurtled itself forward through dimensions.
It had a job to do.