Some hours later, Homura follows Mila into a dark mansion, deep in the woods. Cobwebs stick to sparse furniture covered in rotting sheets, lit by faint chandeliers glowing with magic fire. In the half-light of a ballroom, sitting in a single rickety armchair, Homura finds a familiar face-

"Madoka!"

Homura rushes in, falling to her knees before her goddess, staring up into her downcast eyes. Madoka stares straight through her, her familiar face wearing a less-than-familiar expression. Homura takes her hand, forceful, hoping to find some life in her ideal, yet it's all for naught.

"What happened to her?" Homura half-whispers, her mind racing.

"After my mistress tore her from the Law of Cycles, she gradually lost more and more of her energy. The cause is unknown, but she requires a tremendous amount of energy just to survive."

Homura notices tiny particles of light drifting toward her from the corners of the room, like dust in sunlight. It's not enough; she needs more. Here- Homura unleashes her magic into Madoka's hand, flooding her circuits. For a flickering moment, Madoka seems to recognize her, flashing a faint, slightly amused smile, before falling back into oblivion as Homura reaches her limit, barely able to maintain consciousness. Homura backs off, unable to look into the eyes of the girl she loves, empty.

"The other Homura brought her to this time period several months ago, as a last resort-because this was the only place with enough magical energy to sustain her existence," Mila steps forward, carrying Madoka's bow. "I spend most of my time hunting for powerful magical artifacts to disassemble as an energy supplement."

When Mila nears Madoka, the bow transforms into magical energy and surges into her, lighting up the room for a moment. Madoka raises her head, her eyes clear now, sharp and warm. She sees Mila.

"Mila..." Madoka's voice is soft, bittersweet; the sound of it, after all these years, sends shivers down Homura's spine. "Thanks again. I wish I could do something in return. Is Homura here?"

"She'll come soon."

"I had a dream... a nightmare," Madoka falters, remembering. "There were people, so many sad people, in striped clothes. And there was a huge war, and there were magical girls suffering over and over, and they couldn't escape even in death- "

"Relax. Save your energy. It was just a dream," whispers Mila, her hands on Madoka's shoulders. Homura tries to shout, to step into the light and show herself, but a fear grips her heart. I'm not the Homura she's waiting for. "Save your energy. Save it for Homura. Your time together is precious, after all."

"Ok- I will. Goodnight again, Mila."

The lights dim as Madoka gently lies back into her chair, pressing against faded red velvet. Mila stands behind her, looking down, her eyes in green-grey shadows. She glances at me, studying my face. Then, as if relishing my anxiety, she whispers luxuriously:

"Sweet dreams, Madoka Kaname."