Free Sky

by shahanshah

In the cold darkness of interstellar space, beyond every known frontier of mankind, against the most terrible of enemies, the Goddess protects.

2. Keter

The cathedral was a symbol of power. Political power and religious power were not so much two sides of the same coin as they were an arbitrary distinction for what was the same concept. Power was power, and a cathedral that served as a monument to the strength and solidarity of the Hierocracy was built boldly, with soaring roofs and buttresses, but also with tempering prudence, with the concrete that interlaced the building's structure reminding the populace that faith in the Hierocracy was the only thing that kept the nightmares away.

Faith in the Hierocracy had been the only thing that kept the nightmares away.

The main chamber of the cathedral was completely deserted save for one tiny figure, her back slouched against the corner of the massive space. Occasionally, her eyes darted up from her notebook to scan the area before her. Then, she would move her gaze back to the notebook, her pencil continuing to scratch back and forth across the paper.

Diana started as one of the doors to the cathedral creaked open. She hadn't expected people.

The girl raised a hand in greeting as she walked towards Diana. "Hey!"

Slowly, Diana nodded. "Hello. What are you doing here?"

The girl smiled brightly before raising her hand and flashing a soul gem ring. "I'm Tanaka Akira, member of the Hearth. Nice to meet you!"

"Did you come here for the sole purpose of meeting me? I really, really hope that the answer is 'no.' I also don't want you to think that I'm thinking highly of myself, because that's not what's going on right now. It's just that, if it were the case that you came here just to meet me, I'd be a bit perturbed."

Akira's smile cracked and then collapsed. "I heard that you were around, and I was coming here anyways, so I thought I might drop by the main chamber. Is that bad?"

"You know who I am?"

"Well, yeah. Everybody knows who you are."

"See, becoming a species-wide celebrity was never really one of my life goals. Anyways, what's a Hearth engineer doing in a cathedral? I thought the Inquisition was the only branch of the military with serious ties to the Hierocracy."

Akira's smile popped back up on her face. "Oh! Yeah, I don't usually deal with the Hierocracy, but people have to do check-ups on the containment centers periodically. Faith is all well and good, but it never hurts to have hard numbers backing that faith up, eh? "

Diana shrugged, head dipping back down to her notebook.

"You did go to basic training, right?" Akira asked.

"Yeah. Why is that a question?"

Akira bobbed her head from side to side as she contemplated Diana's query. "Well, some people get exempted. If being a magical girl is part of the family history, and there's reason to believe that the girl's already been trained for the job…"

"Were you one of those people?"

"Yup!" Akira said. "My father is a cardinal on Mars, and my aunt's a captain in the Third Fleet. But, I didn't get exempted. My aunt intervened and said that I needed basic training, no matter how ready the rest of my family or the military thought I was. Even with most of your childhood spent preparing for it…"

"Was it useful for you?"

Akira tilted her head. "I dunno. Most of it deals with psychology."

"Yeah," Diana said, her lips curling upwards. "To be honest, when I went through it, it really wasn't a great confidence-booster. It's like they figure that it's inevitable that I lose it somewhere along the line, and they're just trying to pre-empt it. Oh, wait."

"Aw, come on," Akira said, sitting down beside Diana. "Don't be so negative. You're the Servant, uh…"

"I'm Diana Markos. Nice to meet you, Akira."

Akira buried her face in her hands. "Goddess, I'm so embarrassed. I swear, ordinarily I would remember your name! It's just, you know…"

"Relax. You'd never met me before."

"That doesn't make it any better."

"Well, no, it really doesn't, given that you could've just looked it up on one of the magic text input boxes that are literally everywhere. Also, you're in the Hearth, which means that you should be even more technologically apt than the average person," Diana said. She looked up to see Akira pouting, her lower lip trembling. "That was a joke."

Akira stuck her tongue out. "You know, for a Servant, you're not very nice."

"Akemi Homura went from continent to continent purging Earth of the demons. That doesn't sound very nice. It sounds quite powerful, and very ruthless, and very efficient. That's what's expected of me, isn't it? Fuck, I'm sorry, that sounded so arrogant. But still. The point stands."

Akira shrugged. "I guess."

"So, what do you do in the Hearth?" Diana asked.

"Eh," Akira said, rolling her shoulders. "There are dozens of divisions. I'm in the Resources umbrella department. For the most part, I do engineering. It's pretty nice. Are you interested in history?"

"To some degree."

"Well, it turns out that before the War—"

"The First War?"

Akira stumbled over her words. "Sorry?"

"The War is the First War now. Guess which war we're in right now."

"O-oh," Akira said, scratching the back of her head. "Right. It's still, uh, kinda hard to internalize. Anyways, before the First War, magical girls were advancing humanity behind the scenes with all sorts of crazy wishes. I think the Hierocracy got some historians to back up that part of their theology with substantive evidence. That being the case, the Hearth is just an extension of what was happening all along. It's pretty cool. That's my little lecture on the Hearth for newcomers."

Diana rested her chin on her knees. "An appeal to history?"

"You mentioned Akemi Homura ."

Smiling, Diana said, "Fair enough."

With a great yawn, Akira stretched her limbs. "I gotta go. You know, check up on the same old containment centers. You enjoy your stay on Earth, all right?"

"I intend on doing so. It seems that this is the most I'll get to see of it before they ship me off to the stars."

"Hey, I'll be at the hotspots within the week as well. Someone has to improve supply line efficiency, after all."

"Huh," Diana said. "So we might see each other?"

Akira shrugged. "It's not very likely," she said. "There are a lot of magical girls on a lot of ships doing very different jobs. But, hey, if we do, it'd be pretty cool, right? I mean, we've barely gotten to know each other now, so maybe we could talk more?"

Friends are a good thing, Diana.

"I'll look you up in one of the Armada directories if I get the chance."

"Cool!" Akira said, turning to walk away, turning to walk away. "See you around, then."

As the cathedral door creaked shut, Diana wondered if Akira had ever seen frontline combat. For that matter, had any of the people who were her superiors amongst the mahou shoujo in the Armada ever seen that sort of combat? There had been Servants between her and Akemi Homura, to prevent atrocities and to protect the hope of mankind, but they had never faced an existential risk, had they?

As her eyes began to drift aimlessly across the surface of the cathedral, her conversation with Akira began to slip from her immediate memory. The Hierocracy was to protect her from the demons and the nightmares.

Right?

She remembered the Incubator showing her the massive, twisted ships of ethereal flesh that the demons used, howling monstrosities of arms and eyes and gnashing teeth that pulled their way across the stars as fast as any human ship could. They moved from star to star faster than light itself could. Mankind could not run. It could only fight and pray.

The Hierocracy had protected mankind for centuries, just as Akemi Homura and the first mahou shoujo had. From that glorious beginning, the Hierocracy had served mankind tirelessly. They needed no monetary contributions, no donations, no supplication and no sacrifice. Those were the vestiges of corrupted, false religions. All the Hierocracy needed was dedication and faith. With those two things, the Hierocracy of Mankind, the Kingdom of the Goddess, would last unto eternity.

Right?

But, Diana thought, the people who had founded the Hierocracy could have never anticipated or prepared for this. When the Demons had last threatened the very existence of mankind, they had been confined to Earth. Now they came from beyond the depths of space. The Hierocracy was surrounded. They told her, day after day, that the Goddess was not omnipotent. But then what could she do?

Diana had never prayed purely of her own volition. Of course she believed. When miracles and Prophets were obviously existent not believing would be arbitrarily skeptical. But she had never had any use for communication with the Goddess, and honestly, actual conversation with a deity was something that she would be skeptical of, no matter how much evidence pointed to that deity's mere existence.

Doubt notwithstanding, Diana made her way to the center of the cathedral, the focal point from which concentric circles of pews radiated. A ray of light from a perforation in the center of the ceiling illuminated the far side of the room. It was still morning, and the sun was low in the sky.

If the Goddess was not omnipotent, what point was there in asking her for petty favors? Or was it supposed to be a matter of asking the right questions, and never favors?

Throughout the worlds of the Hierocracy, people panicked at the news of the demon attacks. Over the course of the next week, demons, attacking via routes orthogonal to the galactic plane, devoured any worlds not close enough to be covered by one of the fleets. Mankind collectively prayed for a benevolent Goddess to deliver it.

Goddess, Diana thought, you have chosen me to be your Servant. I don't know why, and I don't suppose that I ever will.

She felt, for the briefest moment, the crazy, stupid urge to be sarcastic with a Goddess. How was she supposed to pray? The kind she had been taught to perform felt artificial, like she was painting the façade of genuine communication over what she really felt.

Diana let her mind ramble.

Your mahou shoujo protect the hope of humanity, right? At what cost? We can't serve mankind without shouldering some sort of burden. Are our wishes meant only to serve the greater good of humanity? Then I'm a coward and a traitor. I used my wish to run away from reality, to wish for a false paradise, and I can only live in it by using this superficial power that you've given me as a crutch.

I do not know where to find hope. I don't know how not to be afraid. You'd, I don't know, fucking think that out of all the piles of holy writ that we've churned out over the years we'd get an easy-read manuscript, some sort of guide for idiots like me, but I guess not. And you're not saying anything. I hear nothing.

I hear more about magical girls now that I'm one of them. I hear stories about people using their wishes for the most selfless things. I hear the stories of the girls who came close to the brink of absolute despair, with one thing, and only one thing, holding them back. They say it was faith. And they say they survived.

I don't think I have faith in you. You don't even answer me.

Even if I have power now, that won't stop me from spiraling into despair, will it? What can I do to pull myself out? I only have this laundry list of unanswered and unanswerable questions. It's pathetic. Having the last moments of my life be filled with nothing but empty blackness sounds terrifying.

They say you will save me when that happens. I hope you never have to. I'm afraid that you will.

What is the fucking use in praying to a Goddess that, by her own holy writ, does not intervene in mortal affairs? The first Prophet said that you are constantly fighting for me, but I don't know how, and I don't know what the consequence of that fight is.

If you're fighting for me, you will give me courage, right? And when I am about to die, you will deliver my soul, if not to glory, then from evil, right? That's what the books say.

You can do at least that much. I believe in that. Otherwise there isn't any point. Maybe some people could live without points. I think Christine could. She must see that kind of thing all the time. Hope's just a drop against a torrent of despair. I couldn't stay sane in a world where, after living through all of that, after flushing your life down the cosmic toilet of bullshit and arbitrary misfortune, you learn that at the end of the line, there's nothing but cold death and damnation.

I'm weak like that. Or maybe I'm just underselling myself. I like to tell other people that I'm a well-adjusted girl, you know?

You'll be there if I can't pull myself out of despair. I can believe in that. Thank you.

The horns mounted at the top of the cathedral began to bellow a strong, melodic tune. Throughout the planet Earth, billions of human beings heard the same sound, calling them to prayer. The magical restraining bolts of the containment chambers in the back of the cathedral glowed and hummed with power, as the miasma behind the walls, having surged forwards since yesterday evening, drew back.

I'll talk to Yoshio later. They say the Prophets know things about you that nobody else does. Even if you can't give me any concrete answers, even if this is more an exercise in meditation than in wishing, Yoshio can help me.

Diana figured that she had already done enough prayer for her noon obligation, but force of habit compelled her to at least finish with something canonical.

May the Goddess' name be showered in praise, and may the glory of her deeds be known by every soul under her protection. May it be known that, by the grace of her might, the dominion of mankind is shielded from evil. Glory and long life to the Prophets, who herald the words of the Goddess. Glory and long life to the Servant, who—

Diana buried her face in her hands.

I need to learn some new stock prayers from Yoshio. Amen.

Diana's communications device buzzed softly. It was a call from Yoshio.

"Speak of an Incubator," Diana muttered.

What is it?

My older sister wants to speak with you.

Diana stiffened, a tiny pit of nervousness forming in her navel. All right. When and where?

I'm to escort you to her. Meet outside the base where the military first dropped you off. There'll be a waiting transport.

-x-

Meeting Yoshio at the base was the first time she had seen him since coming to Earth. Most of her time had been occupied with training. She had no idea what Yoshio had been up to.

Yoshio gave her a curt nod in greeting. "Did you have a pleasant day off?"

"Half a day hardly counts," Diana said, boarding the transport.

"Get used to it."

Diana turned her head to find the source of the familiar voice. "Yeah, I'm sure you have to suffer through unimaginable pains. Next time, I'll bring a medal to label you a martyr."

Turning around in the pilot's seat, Christine glared at Diana.

Yoshio coughed. "We can turn down the hostility, right? We're on the same side."

"Sorry," Diana said, dipping her head downward.

Christine's cheeks flushed with momentary embarrassment. "Yeah, yeah."

"Anyways," Diana said, looking back up, "none of us have seen official deployment against the demons yet, so I don't think that anyone can really pull the whole bitter veteran shtick on anyone else."

"I'm still your superior, Servant or not."

Rolling her eyes in a practiced movement, Diana stuck her tongue out at Christine, who shook her head in exasperation.

The transport rose from the ground with a fluid, pleasant hum, smoother than the older model that Yoshio had used in New Genesis. Diana leaned against the window as they gained altitude.

Himmelsschloss, the throne capital of humanity, was arrayed before her, sprawled from horizon to horizon. From the glimmer of the lower-built business sectors, to the soaring domes and columns of the Hierocracy monuments, Himmelsschloss radiated power. It had been designed that way. After the First War, as the nations of Earth scrambled to rebuild their broken cities and reclaim land lost to the demons, the newly-formed Hierocracy set out to build a concrete testament to its strength. Humanity was to be led into a new age, one governed by the Goddess and the heaven in which she resided.

Diana's eyes darted back and forth between the different buildings. If she had a week, then the sculptures and paintings and murals stored within the museums and churches, crafted by minds seized with religious fervor in the name of the Goddess, would all be hers to devour.

If she had a week and humanity itself was not afraid that its own days were numbered, then she might as well own the universe.

Behind Diana, Yoshio sat quietly, hunched over as he twiddled his fingers.

"Hey," Diana said, "why were you on New Genesis, anyways? What the hell were you doing off Earth?"

"I was being very foolish."

"That's a given, but it doesn't tell me anything," Diana said.

"It doesn't matter," Yoshio said. "There was nothing for me to do and nothing that I could do on Earth. My sister is the Prophet-Queen, and any meaningless position below that could just as well be fulfilled by hundreds of people just as qualified as me, if not more. Living like that just makes the title 'Prophet' a meaningless name."

There was a long silence. Diana did not know how to respond. In all her years of life, she had never tried to talk a teenager out of a pseudo-life crisis.

"Well," Diana said, finally, "you exist to remind people that there's still a way out. Even if it's just you sitting on your ass and just being, I think that's good enough."

"So I can sing soothing lullabies as people suffer and die, with me powerless to stop it? I'm a man. I can only watch the mahou shoujo and will never join them."

"You don't want to think like that," Christine said, keeping her eyes fixed forwards on her flight path. "On New Genesis, you did plenty. I wasn't guarding a passive doll. If you want to act, act. Standing still and doubting yourself is a fantastic waste of time. It gets draining."

Diana lightly shoved Yoshio in the shoulder. "The point being, the amount of angst on this transport should, on balance, be minimized. Got it?"

Yoshio sat still for a second, surprised, before he exhaled slowly. "Right."

"Anyways," Diana asked, turning to Christine, "why're you here? I thought you'd be done with us after New Genesis."

"I was due back on Earth anyways, and someone needed to chaperone you two around."

"Aw," Diana said, smiling. "Aren't we lucky?"

Christine sighed. "Call me old-fashioned, but it'd make me feel bad if you two died and I wasn't there to try to stop it."

"Knight in shining armor?" Diana asked, leaning over Christine's seat. Her teeth flashed as she smiled.

"Maybe."

Yoshio cleared his throat. "I think that it'd be prudent for you to know that there'll be Inquisitional representatives at the meeting."

Like some invisible trap had been sprung, Christine stiffened. "What does the Inquisition want?"

Under Christine's questioning, Yoshio sank a bit lower in his seat. "They've legitimated their presence using their ties to the Hierocracy. In a way, they're trying to act as mediators between the military and the Hierocracy."

"Presumptuous bitches," Christine muttered.

"Is this some sort of inter-group rivalry that I should be aware of?" Diana asked. "Now that I'm part of the Armada, should I not like the Inquisition?"

Christine growled. "You shouldn't like the Inquisition because they are some of the most paranoid, counter-productive people you will ever have the misfortune to meet in your entire life."

"Oh," Diana said, coughing lightly. "Right."

Once again, Diana's eyes were drawn to the window. The transport was approaching the center of Himmelsschloss.

The vast majority of Himmelsschloss was lofty, classical architecture, rooted in the annals of mankind's history. The Goddess' Seat did away with that mundane business. What with the revolving antigravity halo crowning the top of the metal tower piercing the sky, the Goddess' Seat, Diana knew, was very much a declaration of the Hierocracy's divine right to rule.

"What's your sister like?" Diana asked, turning to Yoshio. "You know the Prophet-Queen personally."

"I know her on a familial level," Yoshio said. "So I'm not fit to answer that question. The answer that you receive will be biased."

Diana became acutely aware of a tension in her shoulders. Closing her eyes, she relaxed her muscles.

As the transport docked at one of the upper levels of the tower, two magical girls walked out to greet them. Both were out of their costumes. They wore the military uniform of the Inquisition, similar to that of the Armada magical girl's, but with darker colors and more buckles.

One of them was tall and lanky, with a short bob cut. The other girl whom the first was following a step behind had long, straight hair, a perpetual smile, and slightly flushed cheeks. Christine caught sight of the second girl and blanched.

"Fuck."

Diana raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong?"

"Fuck."

Behind them, Yoshio remained silent as he raised a hand to adjust his collar.

The second girl's eyes widened slightly as Christine stepped out of the transport. "A pleasure to see you here, Lieutenant McDonnell. It's been some time."

Christine only nodded stiffly.

Her smiling face remaining unchanged, the girl turned to Diana and extended a hand. "Maria D'Arco, Inquisition. It's a pleasure to meet you, Diana Markos."

As she shook the offered hand, Diana tried not to let her surprise at Maria's knowledge of her name show. "Likewise."

"This is my assistant, Julia Choi," Maria said, turning to the girl behind her, who gave a short nod. "Anyways, Christine, you won't be joining us, will you?"

A smile somehow tore its way across Christine's face. "I don't suppose I will be, no."

"Well, in that case, I'll have Julia keep you company."

At Maria's words, Julia detached herself from Maria's back and walked to meet Christine.

Maria made a sweeping motion with her hand. Taking the cue, Yoshio and Diana followed Maria into the tower.

After they had been walking for some time, Yoshio cleared his throat. "What do you know of the situation in the rebellious outer colonies, General D'Arco?" he asked, hands tucked behind his back.

Maria's eyes lit up. "Please, Maria is fine. It wouldn't do to have excessive formality between the Prophets and the mahou shoujo who exist to serve them. Why do you ask?"

"I've been doing homework."

The words, Diana noted, flowed so much more easily out of Yoshio when he was talking about the war. There was no crippling self-doubt, or glaring, social ineptitude resulting in long, embarrassing pauses. She counted herself lucky that Christine had been with her on the transport.

"Some heretics have made statements that they'll cooperate," Maria said. "They are all lying. I expect treason and backstabbing within the year. It's my job to preempt these revolutions and crush them in infancy. They haven't made any moves yet, but they will. I must wait."

Yoshio frowned. "Why not crush them now, if you're so certain?"

"If I make a mistake, then we inadvertently wage war against a planet of innocents, and I don't think you'd like that very much. I am also not certain which rebellious faction will eventually prove to be the rotten apple, only that one of them will. We strike a delicate balance between prudency and atrocity."

"Sorry," Diana said, uncomfortable at her own awkward insertion into the conversation, "but if the demon enemy wants to kill us all, then wouldn't it be in the rebels' best interests to side with us? Why are we worrying about them?"

"Heretics aren't rational thinkers," Maria said, smiling a bit wider. "Additionally, it's always good practice to assume that all of your enemies are cooperating against you. The enemy of your enemy is still your enemy. Even if they are not actually cooperating, the Hierocracy having to fight a war on two fronts puts us at a severe disadvantage. One of those fronts being internal can do nothing but exacerbate the situation."

Diana shrugged. "But we don't even know if the demons are sapient, do we? If they're not, then the possibility of cooperation is a big fat zero."

"They might as well be, what with the sophistication of their deployment patterns," Yoshio said. "When the demons are compared to us, we're a tragedy of logistics. Every outer colony that rebels is a military base that we can't resupply a fleet at. Also, the single-minded, hive-like behavior that the demons have thus far exhibited is quite troubling. More than ever, the Hierocracy needs to exert its authority."

Maria hummed as she turned to appreciate Yoshio. "Very impressive, my lord. You have done your homework. That being the case, I'd presume that you realize the necessity of the Inquisition's existence?"

"I suppose."

"The conversations I have with you," Maria said, her long braid swaying side to side, "are much more pleasant than the ones I have with your chaperone, Lieutenant McDonnell."

Yoshio frowned. "Do you two have history?"

"We trained together. Neither of us particularly liked the other."

"She's very dedicated to her status as a mahou shoujo, as well as her beliefs."

"I suppose," Maria said, shrugging.

The three of them stopped at an ornate door that ended the hallway. Behind the door sat the ruler of mankind.

"By the way," Maria said, turning to Diana. "In case you didn't know, you are the one exception to general standards of etiquette. Don't kneel."

As Diana pushed the door open and walked into the office, she felt the familiar feeling of nervousness creep up. It was a comforting familiarity. This was the Prophet-Queen, and no matter how much authority she had over Diana or how nervous she made her feel, she didn't want her dead.

To her left and right, Maria and Yoshio bowed. "Your highness," they said, echoing each other.

Now that she was looking for the similarity, the Prophet-Queen of mankind looked very much like Yoshio, only female. She was young, and Diana knew from research that she was twenty-nine years old. The previous Prophet-Queen, her health ailing in old age, had abdicated the throne years ago to make room for her daughter.

Kaname Haruka, her hands folded below her chin, inclined her head slightly downwards and said, "Rise."

As Yoshio and Maria stood, the Prophet-Queen gave a small smile. "It's good to see you again, Yocchan."

Diana could almost taste Yoshio's discomfort as he squirmed. "Please."

"Very well," Haruka said, the smile sliding off her face. "To business. It's good to know that you exist, Diana. The Goddess' work is certainly very timely."

Diana shifted her weight from left to right. "Personally, I interpret the existence of a Servant as the corollary existence of a threat that the Servant has to beat up in the name of the Goddess. I'd rather not be the Servant if it meant that there were never any demons that needed purging."

"If you stopped existing, the demons would still exist. That's hard reality," Haruka said. "So we need you alive. Please, sit."

Three chairs had already been set in place. Diana smoothly slid into one. It was almost like she was in a business meeting. Up close, the Prophet-Queen was like any other human being, albeit one who carried authority in every act and every word. Upon reflection, Yoshio had passed as ordinary for quite some time as well.

"Is it all right if I address you as 'Diana?'" Haruka asked, leaning forwards. "It'd make me feel more comfortable if I didn't have to address you like I would an Armada general or a regional bishop."

Diana nodded. "I'm fine with it."

"Good. Diana, I'm sure you've been taught the distinction between the Servant and the Prophets. The distinction, however, is rooted in the more impractical parts of Hierocracy doctrine. When the need arises, it often becomes necessary to discard the more unwieldy parts. Traditional philosophy mandates that there be separation between the Hierocracy that disseminates the faith and the military that guards it—but, nonetheless, there is some mixing. Like, for example, a magical girl meant to inspire faith through overwhelming might."

Diana blinked. "You want me to do something with or for the political part of the Hierocracy?"

"Yes. I presume you accept?"

Taken aback, Diana nodded a bit too late. "Of course."

"Splendid," Haruka said, with every muscle in her face remaining static. "The very concept of a Servant appeals to a sense of security. People like to believe that they're in good hands: now, your hands. While it's acceptable for only the Hierocracy and its agents to speak on your behalf, the people, quite simply, need you to speak to them. They need a face and voice to which they can direct their prayers. Addressing the citizens of the Hierocracy might seem difficult—"

"Uh," Diana said, scratching the back of her head. "Oh no. I am now forced to confront my one greatest fear, public speaking."

Yoshio made an irritated expression. "Don't give your Prophet-Queen an attitude."

"Last week I became the living representative of the Goddess' power. I can afford attitude."

The Prophet-Queen hummed quietly. "So you're confident, then?"

In her mind's ear, Diana could hear her attitude die a pitiful death. "I think there's a difference between being confident in an enclosed, nicely-furnished office, and being confident elsewhere."

"Yes," the Prophet-Queen said, her face now slightly tensed. "I'm afraid I can't do anything for you concerning confidence on the battlefield. I've never seen and will never experience death like that in my entire life. My job as Prophet-Queen is to deal with the fallout."

Hurriedly, Diana shook her head. "It's fine."

"Very well. There will be a speech written for you by tomorrow. I understand that the timeframe for you to make it is quite short."

"My deployment," Diana said, swallowing.

Maria, in her seat, bowed her head deeply. "Your highness,"

"Yes, General D'Arco?"

"I would like to speak about the issue that I brought up previously."

"That's a matter of military affairs. Take it up with the Lord Admirals if you're really that concerned about the issue of whose commands the Servant takes."

It occurred to Diana that, despite claiming to act as a mediator, Maria had said nothing throughout the entire meeting until that point in time. It was almost as if she had been lying in wait until she could make a power grab.

Oh wait.

"Sorry for interrupting," Diana said, "but is this 'issue' one of whether or not I serve the Inquisition?"

Maria and Haruka turned to her, neither of them saying anything for a moment. Then, Maria bowed her head once more.

"My apologies," she said. "The Inquisition remains under-supplied, under-staffed, stigmatized within the military itself, and put under suspicion throughout the general Hierocracy. The Inquisition is also my home. I would see to reverse these unfounded prejudices."

Diana shifted. "Well, I'm sorry that's the case, but one, I'd rather not be used, and two, the idea of killing other human beings, secessionist, rebel, traitor, heretic, whatever you want to call them, really freaks me out."

"The Servant is to serve the Hierocracy," Haruka said. "Not its shadow. It pains me to say this, General D'Arco, but the darkness is where you and your people belong. It wouldn't do to publically air every instance of Hierocracy weakness, corruption, and betrayal."

Without hesitating, Maria bowed her head in acceptance. "Very well, your Highness. As for the matter of the other transfer, will you accept my proposal?"

"As long as Yoshio consents, then yes."

Yoshio made a confused face. "Excuse me?"

"General D'Arco would like to have one of her girls transfer to the Armada to serve in the same capacity as your escort that Lieutenant McDonnell presently does."

"I—I suppose that I am comfortable with that arrangement," Yoshio said, eyebrows furrowed.

Maria smiled. "Thank you, my lord."

As the Prophet-Queen was about to speak, Yoshio raised a hand to interrupt her. "Your highness, if I may speak…"

Haruka gave a faint smile. "Please, brother."

"Speaking honestly to your loyal servant, how goes the war?"

Diana's eyes flitted to Yoshio's face. His jaw was set and his eyes were cold, staring straight ahead. He sat like he was made of stone. Where was he hiding all that awkward adolescent neuroses now?

Haruka reached across her desk and poured herself a cup of tea. "Would you like some, Yoshio?"

"No, thank you."

"Very well." Slowly, Haruka took a sip of the steaming liquid.

"Our military was caught by surprise. Only now are we truly beginning to react to this disaster. It's been determined that the miasma storms originate from interstellar space. After several centuries of the demons not being a threat, it seems that they're making up for lost time. Mutations are extensive throughout the miasma, thereby giving birth to new and strange monstrosities."

"How many worlds have fallen?" Yoshio asked, voice steady.

"Four. Battles are ongoing in six systems."

"And the dead?"

"They number in the millions."

Diana pressed the back of her hand to her mouth and wiped away imaginary spittle. Her stomach was churning, she felt sick, and it was comforting to have pressure against your mouth.

She had been chosen by the heavens above to fight, and she had thrown a wish into the vast well that was entropy to be brave, but neither the Goddess nor the wish of the Incubators had given her any sort of substantive courage. All she had gotten was a band-aid. She felt cheated.

"Do you lack confidence, brother?" Haruka asked.

Yoshio swallowed. "I believe that, given time, which we have, the might of our military, which, while not yet fully realized, will inevitably come to its full potential, and the strength in the hearts of mankind, which will come with faith in the Goddess, we will survive, and victory will be ours."

"And do you believe those words enough to tell them to repeat them to those seeking your guidance?"

"Without hesitation."

"Then I believe that concludes our business," Haruka said, standing up. Yoshio and Maria mirrored the movement before bowing. It took all of Diana's restraint not to imitate them. "May you go forth with the Goddess in your hearts, and her words on your lips."

-x-

Hours later, Diana was sitting on the top deck of her bunk bed, legs dangling off the side as she swung them back and forth idly. Below her, Christine lay flat against her own mattress, flipping through the pages of some manual for vessel armament. Given the rapid increases in both magical girl recruitment rates and enlisted girls who needed to stay on-base, the military had girls sharing rooms to save space.

"Hey," Diana said. "So Yoshio's probably not going to be shipping out with us."

Christine peeked out from underneath Diana's bed. "Yeah. And?"

"Don't you think it's weird?"

The bunk bed creaked as Christine shifted her weight. "The Hierocracy not sending one of its most prominent figures to the frontlines of a war doesn't sound very strange."

"That's not my point," Diana said. "It's just that it feels off to go on without him."

Christine said nothing as she lay silently in thought. "It is weird. I think I'll miss him."

Diana hummed in assent. "You know, Yoshio and that Inquisition girl were talking about you earlier."

"Were they? What did he say to her?"

"He called you dedicated."

The bed creaked again. As Christine's remained silent, Diana began to register the ticking of the room's clock.

"Hey," Diana said, flipping her body to look down at Christine. "You still there?"

Christine was curled into a ball against the wall, her chin nestled between her knees. "Did he say that?"

"While this is all very adorable, I'm not really seeing how your reaction follows form what Yoshio said."

"I don't think I'm a very dedicated mahou shoujo."

Diana hopped down from her top bunk, landing with a thud against the floor. With a rustle, she scooted her way next to Christine on the lower bunk. "Are you serious? You fucking powered through an entire ship infested with demons. Regardless of what you feel, how you act seems to tell a different story."

Shaking her head, Christine sighed. "It's not that," she said.

"Do you doubt?"

"Doubt what?"

"You know. Being evasive, are you?"

Christine shook her head once more. "It seems hollow," she said, "to believe in what the Goddess stands for because you have no other choice, because otherwise your soul blackens and you fade away. When did belief become a matter of survival? What use is there believing in heroes of justice not because they exist, but because that's the only thing you can strive for?"

"Uh," Diana said, her brow furrowing, "heroes of justice?"

Christine scowled. "Are you making fun of me?"

"No!" Diana said, waving her hands frantically. "I swear. It's just that justice isn't one of the five aspects."

"Oh," Christine said, lips twitching. "Sorry. I guess justice is a family thing for the McDonnells. Really, it's only a fantasy world, one where the good are rewarded and the bad punished. We dream of it, but then we always have to wake up. Like now. I will fight against the demons, and I will fight believing in victory, but realistically, we could all die, and that belief will have amounted to nothing."

Diana abruptly fell silent. Something churned in her stomach. "Did you really have to bring up the extinction issue?"

Christine's eyes widened at Diana's sour glare. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"

Chuckling, Diana waved a hand. "Eh, don't worry," she said, smiling lightly. "It's fine. And it's not like the Hierocracy is barely hanging on for survival. I don't think it's warranted to be so pessimistic right out the gates."

"I suppose," Christine said. "Do you have doubts?"

"I don't think the Servant is supposed to doubt," Diana said, looking away.

"But do you?"

A memory of the cathedral's interior, high and lofty, with her gaze pointed upwards into the vast emptiness shifted into Diana's conscious thought.

"Maybe a little."

Christine placed a hand on Diana's shoulder. "Don't worry. Everybody doubts."

"You know, with Yoshio leaving, I hope that we stick together out there," Diana said. "You're the only other mahou shoujo I really know."

Diana yelped as Christine reached out to ruffle her hair. "Hey, I'm not a kid."

"You remind me of my little sister."

"Great! I've always wanted to be compared to some snotty kid!"

Christine chuckled. "It's not a matter of age. You haven't forgotten, right? Even if you're the Servant…"

"I'm still your junior," Diana said, shaking her head.

"It feels almost sacrilegious," Christine said, "to sit next to a religious idol and casually tease her. But, then again, you're only human, aren't you?"

Diana nodded. "I don't think people remember that sometimes. Have you seen how contemporary artists depict figures like Akemi Homura in sculpture and painting? They like to make it seem as if she stood on par with the Goddess herself."

"She is a legend."

"And I'm only a girl."

Christine shrugged. "Too bad."

Sighing, Diana rolled her eyes. "Supportive as always."

"I am supportive."

"Oh? I haven't seen you with any other magical girls."

Christine crossed her arms. "Most of the missions I've been in were internal affairs. Before the demons, militant rebels and heretics were the biggest threat to the people of the Hierocracy. The magical girls that I've worked with moved on to other things and drifted apart. I've never been in a stable team."

"Internal affairs? You mean Inquisitional matters?" Diana asked, her interest piqued.

"They were involved. That's how I got most of my experience with them. They have as many plots and schemes as there are stars in the sky. You should never trust an Inquisitional magical girl. Most of them are infatuated with D'Arco anyways."

Diana laughed at the sudden statement. "Wait, what?"

"She's one of the newest generals in the Inquisition, about as old as me, and I'm pretty young," Christine said. "She united the Inquisition. Even as recent as twenty years ago, the Inquisition was not only content with being paranoid about every single other faction in the Hierocracy, they also had to constantly suspect themselves of potential corruption. It was some sort of infinitely regressive 'who guards the guards' scenario."

Christine paused for a second to look for the right words. "It's also a bit of a stereotype, but the 'darker' magical girls usually end up in the Inquisition. Not many vetted upper-class magical girls, and, uh," she said, her speech continually growing more awkward, "well, for some of them, it's generally considered good sense to keep a good supply of grief cubes on hand at all times."

"They're unstable," Diana said.

"Yes, but never say that in front of one. And, I reiterate, it is a stereotype. Anyways, D'Arco lobbied both outside the Inquisition for more resources and support, both military and psychological, and inside the Inquisition to create a unified front. She's very charismatic in that regard."

"It sounds like a noble enough cause. Why don't you like her?"

"In the entirety of the Inquisition, with all its schemers, she is the most devious one. And no matter how much she does for her own faction, she'll never lend a hand of support to the Armada or the Hearth, mostly because the next week her magical girls will be the ones investigating us for potential corruption."

"Even so," Diana said. "I don't see that justifying unconditional dislike."

"You need to work with her. Then you'll see."

Diana sighed. "Well, it's good to know that the armed forces currently defending humanity from cold and bitter extinction are about as cohesive as shit thrown against a wall."

"You're not going to give the people any sort of faith in the Hierocracy with that sort of attitude," Christine said, shaking her head. "When do you give your address, anyways?"

"Tomorrow."

"Are you nervous?"

"A bit. Not very much."

"Well, you should get some sleep," Christine said. "As should I. We won't have the luxury of such comfortable beds in the outer colonies, or on a ship in the middle of space."

Diana rolled her head against the wall to stare up at the underside of the top bunk. "What's it like?"

"Space?" Christine said, drawing her knees inwards. "Space is cold. It's very large and makes you feel very small."

"That seems intuitively obvious."

"It's never obvious to the people who haven't truly felt what it's like to fight in space. A boarding party plays a crucial role in battle to disrupt enemy rhythm and available firepower, but you'd never guess by casually observing. You are in a tiny craft, praying to the Goddess that your escort ship will cover you, praying that you won't get blown into atoms by a lucky laser cannon. Every single other vessel on the battlefield is several orders of magnitude larger than you. Point defense on a ship is designed to instantly vaporize missiles about your craft's size. On a rational level, you know it works. On an emotional one, you will never feel smaller."

Diana fell silent, the only sound she could hear being Christine's steady breathing.

"But hey," she finally said, "you survived, didn't you?"

Christine's face registered no reaction. "That I did."

-x-

The next morning, Diana exited the military base to meet a small, unassuming transport, with nothing to indicate that it operated under the authority of the most powerful human being alive. She was dressed in uniform.

Christine awoke some time later, along with the rest of the magical girls in Himmelsschloss, and likewise dressed herself in uniform. Accompanying the magical girls were the soldiers of the Armada, the scientists, engineers, and resource directors of the Hearth, and the agents of the Inquisition. All were ordinary human beings. In a different world lost to time, they would have nothing to do with the world of magic.

It was written in the holy texts thusly:

Those who divide the world in half, one realm or population magical, the other mundane, commit a grave folly. The mahou shoujo is of the same flesh as the mortal, of the same mind, and of the same soul. The inherent suffering of the mundane world harms the mahou shoujo's soul, just as the miasma and demons of the magical world threaten the lives of the mortal. Neither the mortal nor the mahou shoujo will escape their mutual ends.

But do not despair, my sisters and brothers. Open your eyes to the light of the world and heed the words on my lips. As they share the same end, so too do they share the same salvation. The Goddess carries forth all equally and without prejudice.

Outside the tower of the Goddess' Seat, the military of the Hierocracy arrayed themselves in rows and columns, in countless blocks of men and women, an undifferentiated mass that extended out to the horizon. Elsewhere, billions watched the same scene.

Diana, sitting idly in a waiting chamber, did not think too heavily on what was outside. The implicit theatrics of the affair needled her. At least it wasn't explicitly an act, with makeup and lighting and pretense. Her gut cringed at the prospect of something like that.

The Prophet-Queen had only specified one condition to Diana via private communication: she wanted Diana to be in costume as she addressed the people of the Hierocracy.

"They need," she had said, "to see the wings."

Diana exhaled slowly before she began to transform. Then, she pulled the magic out of her in a flash of blue and green, the light blinding her momentarily before she finally became fully clothed.

Now, Diana could feel, on a subconscious level, her wings materialize. She was hardly used to flexing parts of her body that hadn't previously existed, so she was hesitant as she brought one of her wings forward over her shoulder. Warily, Diana extended a hand to touch it. It did not feel like part of her body. She was not extending her own wing; instead, by some strange, bizarre mechanism, wings of a heavenly bird had been magically transplanted onto her back, and all she could do was pull strings. Touching her wings was like touching a wild animal.

They tickled the sensitive skin of her palm as she ran her hand up and down its length.

Behind Diana, the door opened to a loud creaking noise, making her jump in surprise. Her wings furled into her back with a soft woosh.

A short, tiny girl with bangs obscuring most of her face stood in the doorway, staring at Diana, eyes wide open and cheeks rapidly reddening. Diana stared back, at a loss for an appropriate reaction.

"Hello," she said, desperately trying to ignore how stilted the words sounded slapped on top of several moments of awkward silence.

The other girl stood rooted to the spot. As Diana scanned the girl's figure, she recognized the girl's uniform as Inquisitional.

"I'm lost."

"You're lost in the Goddess' Seat?"

Slowly, the other girl nodded.

"Um, what are you doing here in the first place?" Diana asked.

"I was supposed to meet with the Prophet-Prince at a specified location. I became lost on my way there."

The connection finally became apparent to Diana. "Oh!" she said. "You're the Inquisitional girl who was supposed to escort Yoshio, right?"

Again, the girl nodded. Her eyes were darting around the room like a ping-pong ball. Diana felt a pang of irritation. The least that the girl could do would be to make eye contact.

"You could call him, right?"

Herein, Diana reflected, lay the problem with having the vast bulk of the new recruits for the elite of the Hierocracy's military be comprised of teenaged girls. Competency was not guaranteed. In relative peacetime, this was not a huge issue, given that the Hierocracy could afford to send mostly senior magical girls into combat. Now, when a recruit would see the frontlines within a matter of weeks, training and effective leadership were more important than ever. Diana didn't intend on being the burden. She couldn't, not when she was the Servant.

The girl shook her head. "I'd rather not receive a reprimand for incompetency."

Diana quickly brushed aside the lump of guilt that rudely introduced itself into her thoughts. "It's fine. I can call him. Stay put and he'll be here soon."

"All right."

With a rustle of clothing, the girl sat down beside the door, folding her legs under her. One quick call to Yoshio later, and the Prophet-Prince hurried into the room.

Prophet-Prince. The words sounded strange in her mind. She had never been very interested in the intricacies of Hierocratic affairs and had never known that Yoshio was important enough to warrant an official title.

"Keeping your lady waiting, Yoshio?" Diana asked, grinning as Yoshio took a moment to catch his breath. "It seems that the values once held so highly in the days of old have declined even amongst those meant to be the paragons of those very same virtues."

Yoshio stared at her blankly for a second before his brow furrowed. "Shut up."

Putting a hand over her mouth, Diana giggled.

Yoshio shook his head before turning to the other girl. After hesitating a moment, he haltingly extended a hand. "Kaname Yoshio. There is no need to address me as your lord."

The other girl took Yoshio's hand. "Sergeant May Huang."

"As it turns out," Yoshio said, shifting his posture nervously, "that we're late for a rather important meeting."

May blinked. "O-oh. Sorry."

"It's no problem," Yoshio said.

"You know," Diana said, "if you're staying behind on Earth, do you have time to meet up with Christine and me?"

Yoshio blinked in confusion. "I'm sorry?"

"To say goodbye."

"Oh!" Yoshio said. He ducked his gaze downwards before meeting Diana's once again. "Yes. I think I do, but please don't—wait—"

"Goddess above," Diana said, shaking her head. "How neurotic can you get?"

"Hey!"

"So do you have time?"

Yoshio cleared his throat, regaining his composure. "Sadly, my schedule is filled with various ceremonial Hierocratic chores. Though, the point may very well be rendered moot shortly."

"Really?" Diana said, raising an eyebrow. "What are you implying?"

Yoshio shook his head. "I'm late, and you have a speech to deliver. If we meet again, I can explain."

"Sure. Bye, then."

Yoshio nodded in acknowledgement. "Goodbye."

Diana's mind was filled with thoughts of what Yoshio had meant as she strode onto the platform jutting out of the Goddess' Seat. Halfway through her walk she realized that she had to keep the wings out.

Damn, this really is going to seem theatric.

When they had broadcasted the news of the attacks, the streets of Earth had been as silent as the dead littering the outer colonies. Now, the crowd roared as Diana extended the white wings from her body.

The picture that the Hierocratic speech-writers had Diana paint of the war was much more optimistic than the one that the Prophet-Queen had given behind closed doors. Still, the crowd ate it up, cheering after every two sentences and forcing Diana to pause the speech for almost a minute at times.

If she was to die to defend these vast multitudes of people, would she still fear death? She was the martyr who had to take the fall, but she had no stake amongst the people she was supposed to die for. The prospect of heroism had always seemed vaguely attractive, but once in she wanted out.

Diana swallowed. She remembered Christine, fighting demons aboard a doomed ship. She remembered how Yoshio stood taller when he had to inspire.

"And if anybody doubts how the future might unfold, remember this," Diana said, no longer speaking with the aid of the prompter. "Given time—"

Mankind had been caught off guard, but not flat-footed. Vigilance was a virtue prized throughout the Hierocracy, and whether guns and ships were to be made to combat rebels or demons, they would still be churned out of the millions of factories scattered throughout the Hierocracy.

"—the might of our military—"

A thousand ships, each one large enough to blot out the sun, each one maintained by soldiers of the Armada working tirelessly towards their sacred cause, silently cruised inexorably onwards, driven by their FTL engines, towards their destinations. Awaiting them were the horrors and nightmares that the deep space miasma had spawned. Their task was to cleanse them all with holy fire.

"—and the strength in the hearts of mankind, which will come with faith in the Goddess—"

Throughout hundreds of worlds, and billions of human souls, one thing tied mankind together. They believed, whether with zealous fervor or tainted by skeptic doubt, in a benevolent Goddess that would deliver humanity from despair.

"—we will prevail, and victory will be ours."