Homura follows Mila through a ghost town in ruins as the sun sets. The moon rises, huge on the horizon. Hundreds of shattered windows gape, darkening, watching Homura. Distant fire streaks the sky; a fleet of bombers just came under heavy fire.
Mila stops in front of a field of ashes and collapsed stones. A few crows scatter; a single black feather slowly falls to earth.
"A synagogue stood here once; it preserved many ancient and beautiful objects. It even held a magic weapon created in biblical times, a relic of a magical girl." Mila steps out into the field of ruins, walking along a stunted wall of charred bricks. "The people who lived in this part of town were some of the first sacrifices when the incubators started to carry out their plan. Like sparks in the engine of torment."
Mila raises her hand, gathering black magic. She unleashes it all at once, scattering ashes and debris far and wide. Homura shields her eyes with her arms, digging in against the powerful vortex of wind. Then the wind stops, as suddenly as it began, and all is still. Mila jumps down into a small puddle revealed by her magic, bends over, and pulls from the muck a slender wooden bow dripping with black muck. Mila purifies it in a dark burst, revealing beautiful laminated wood, and a crowned tip designed as a pink flower, bright in the colorless grey all around it. In an instant, Homura feels her heart leap; she steps forward, shouting-
"- Madoka! That bow is..."
An angry glance from Mila silences her. Then, Mila relaxes a little.
"You really are Homura after all; you have the same sickening obsession, the same greedy posessive look as her. I can see how much you want this bow, how far you'd go to get it. But I'll hold onto it for now. After all, it's what I originally came here to find, before Kyubey arrived and I found y- "
Homura stops time, her heart racing. Mila freezes. Homura walks over, calm and cold, and reaches for the bow-
Wah!? Silent hands of shadow rush in from all directions to grab Homura. She jumps away, barely escaping. Time unfreezes. Mila half-smiles, whispering:
"Bad girl."
"Why?! Why do you want that bow?" Homura shouts, trembling. "What's Madoka to you?"
"Nothing much. But she's a whole lot to you- the other you. Don't bother trying to take this bow by force. Her power protects me, and it's far greater than anything you could scrape together."
"...I think it's time I met this 'other me'," Homura hisses. "Where is she?"
Mila looks away, silent for a moment, wistfully swinging Madoka's bow back and forth, melancholy in the falling ash, only her golden hair lit by the red setting sun.
"You might not like what you see, Homura. Just- try to understand things before you jump to conclusions."
Mila leaps down, joins me in the spreading dark, and leads the way.
