Episode 3 : Anima Mala

As the first pale scraps of dawn illuminated the room, Saya Browning found herself tugged in the direction of wakefulness, but she did not yet breach its surface. In this not-yet-conscious state, Saya started through her repertoire of defensive maneuvers, designed to stave off the dreadful state of being awake for just a few more minutes. First came the half-roll, putting her back to the window, which sufficed until the sun climbed halfway onto the horizon, flooding the room with flame-orange light, and in turn Saya pulled the covers over her head to provide a more substantial barrier against the brightness.

Several minutes later, the heat from being piled under layers of bedclothes became too much, causing Saya to roll the opposite way. In her sleep-fogged state, she performed a complete roll to disentangle herself, which was half a roll too much for the simple twin bed installed in her little bungalow. The realization that she was now going to be falling hit her like a bullet to the brain, blasting away sleep.

At this point, Saya sat up and discovered that she had been sleeping in a bed considerably larger than the one she had expected to be in. And in her clothes as well, which was another surprise. "Okay, where am I?"

"Mitikahara." came a reply from around the corner, but at this point Saya was expecting to be surprised, so she acknowledged the voice with a grunt, which was really all the tiny morsel of information was worth. "In ascending specificity; you are located in the Tirei Hyperdynamics Corporation Building, 8th floor, guest quarters, south-west suite." That explanation told Saya both where she was, and who she was talking to as well.

"Okay, well in no particular order at all, I need food, a shower, clothes, and a weapon."

"I feel compelled to suggest that you should shower before changing clothes, for best results." Ranko came around the corner, looking to Saya's eye entirely too composed for half an hour past dawn and dressed in what she recognized as 'normal' clothes, although the distinction was largely confined to the lack of the blade and buckler that Ranko had been wielding during the previous night's battle.

Despite the rude awakening and subsequent Ranko-ing, Saya found opinion of her hosts rising as she stepped into the shower. While it was outfitted with all the "house of the future" gizmos and gadgets, wall-mounted curtain sprays, showerhead-mounted soap dispenser, multi-spectral warming and tanning lights, and suchlike, the shower was outfitted entirely in black granite tile, crisp glass and chrome trim, which was a considerable improvement over the "low-budget sci-fi set piece" look of the equipment on the Uminari campus. A good, thorough 20-minute shower and a stack of warm, fluffy towels put Saya in a mood that could almost be described as "gracious", which even lasted through the shock of exiting the bathroom to find someone waiting for her.

"Uh, hi. Sorry about this, I wasn't planning on being right here when you got out of your shower. Clothes are on the bed, they're all scrounged from around the house I'm afraid, but that's why shopping is next on the list." The girl was more petite, roughly Saya's height as opposed to the somewhat tall Ranko, and she had eyes the color of topaz and orange hair- not a light shade of "red" or a shade of blonde like Saya, but actually orange in color, shading to pink at the tips.

"Food. Food is next on the list."

"Wriggle was right, you are a spitfire!" the girl giggled.

"And I'm also wearing nothing but a towel, and unlike Ranko, I was raised with a sense of modesty. Get, get, shoo!" With her privacy secured, Saya set about dressing in her scrounged outfit- basic jeans and a black t-shirt emblazoned with the legend "Choujuu Gigaku 2nd Live – We Didn't Burn Down The Bar This Time!" Also: what kind of name is "Wriggle"?

"Right, that'll last through breakfast at least." Saya avoided eye contact with the mirror, not wanting to know what the previous day and her hard sleep had done to her hair and face just yet, then she rounded the corner to interrogate her newest acquaintance. "Now, I don't really remember anything after the explosions stopped last night, but I don't think I've met you."

"I'm Charlotte. Nice to meet you," the peach-haired girl said, again with too much cheer for Saya to appreciate at the early hour.

"Charlotte . . ?" Saya asked, making a "gimme more" gesture with one hand.

"Just Charlotte. Now, what's your favorite gemstone?"

"Er-" Saya frowned, surprised that the other girl would simply blow off her question like that, and more surprised that she was going along with it. "Diamond, I guess? Why?" The answer came when Charlotte closed her eyes for a long moment, then withdrew a shining silvery chain bracelet set with a small, lustrous diamond on the central link, which she then handed to Saya.

"What's this?" Saya asked, holding up the bracelet as though it were a dead fish.

"Platinum. I thought it would suit you better than gold."

"No, what is this? Why are you giving it to me." Saya replied, winding a finger into her hair as she fumed.

"Secure communicator and locator device. You probably don't want to be stuck with a bodyguard 24/7."

"You got that damn right!" Saya snapped, fastening the bracelet around her wrist. "Also, who's this Wriggle you mentioned earlier. You already had Hotaru and Ranko stalking me, isn't two weirdos enough?"

"Oh! Right, I forgot you haven't been clued in on the whole organization yet. Hotaru is Wriggle; she was just using the name for cover."

"Okay, you're going to have to start making some of this make sense, or I'm going to go downstairs, jack one of your AFs, and start punching people."

"Well, do you want explanations, or breakfast?"

"Both!"

The Tirei Tower "company cafeteria" turned out to be a marvelous affair, with a lounge outfitted with service befitting royalty, and a kitchen that turned out food worthy of the gods. This was probably for the best, as it did in fact play host to gods on occasion, although the only divinity on the campus on this particular morning was the un-ascended Sanae Kochiya.

The cafeteria also housed Kyoko Sakura, a point which quickly became a problem. "Uh-oh, looks like Peachie's got another one for her harem!" Kyoko called out, which drew a handful of cackles from those who were familiar with the arrangements of the Puella Magi, and earned Kyoko a hard punch in the shoulder from Sayaka.

"I do not have a harem!" Charlotte called back, fuming.

"Query: Were you or were you not sleeping with two other girls last night?" Kyoko asked in reply, which made Charlotte light up in a furious blush.

"It wasn't like that!" Charlotte wailed. In fact, the peach-haired girl had spent the evening in a bed with both Wriggle and Cirno also present, and the three of them were trying to sort out their mutual romantic entanglements with each other. However, the occasion had been entirely chaste, as the girls were simply celebrating the end of Wriggle's enforced absence while undercover. Even when the excitement wore off and the girls crawled under the covers, they hadn't attempted anything more intimate; in Cirno's case, she had been physically separated from the others by a Mylar insulating blanket, to keep the first night of their reunion from being tainted by a case of hypothermia.

"Then clearly you need to try harder next time!" Kyoko shot back.

"The fuck was all that?" Saya hissed once they were out of Kyoko's range. "Also, you all seem pretty cheerful for almost losing somebody last night, unless the Chief Executive Bitch was lying to me."

"Yes, well, for one Marisa lived through the ordeal, and for two we Puella Magi tend towards gallows humor. It comes with the territory, what with our powers being a death sentence and all." Charlotte remarked as she began to stack food on her plate. "From what I heard, you were there when a Witch appeared down in Uminari, yeah?" Once Saya nodded, Charlotte continued with, "Witches can form on their own, if there is enough despair in the air, but also when a Puella Magi exhausts her powers, she falls and becomes a Witch. So you wanted to know what was up with the name? Well, originally I was Ami Hikaru, then I met an Incubator and became a Puella Magi, then I blew up, then I became Charlotte the Witch, then I got blown up again, then I got brought back, then it turned out that Ami already had a death certificate on file, so I stayed Charlotte."

"So wait, is Hotaru, Wriggle, whatever her name is, she's related to you or something?"

"Not as such. Kyoko was more or less right, the miserable bitch," Charlotte threw a glare at the smirking redhead as she crossed over to the table where Wriggle and Cirno were waiting. "Wriggle's choice of name was her way of trying to even the score."

"Yeah, yeah, I was trying to even the score, sue me." Wriggle grumbled. "The part she's leaving out is that until you do die, the Puella Magi powers let you kick ten types of ass at once."

"I'm guessing there's a reason you haven't gone and got the power for yourself?" Saya asked, which got a fork pointed at her head with intent.

"Yeah, there's a reason," Wriggle snarled, emphasizing each word with a jab of the fork. "Her name's Nova Fucking Floresca."

"Can you guys please stop dropping random names without introducing me to these people first? Or is there some kinda almanac I can pick up?"

"Nova's our Incubator. She swore not to make any more Contracts after seeing the damage they were doing, and she's one of only two left on Earth who have the ability to make Contracts." Charlotte popped half a pancake into her mouth before continuing. "And before you ask, we can't go to the other one; that's Alchemie, and she runs the Divine Crusaders."

"Wait, I thought the lady with the big sword and the glowy hair ran the DC?"

"Lesson Number One; the Incubator is always the one pulling the strings." Charlotte declared, which got nods of agreement from Wriggle and Cirno.

"So what does that say for this place then?" Saya replied with a skeptical air.

"Oh, well Nova doesn't really count anymore, she sorta quit the Project cold turkey."

"And how'd that work out for her?" Saya asked. "Cataclysmic, or just catastrophic?"

"Apocalyptic, in the truest sense of the word." This came from Ranko, who approached the table with a small tray of food and a blonde girl- woman, Saya realized; she looked to be in her late teens, and like Ranko she was dressed severely in black, and wearing jewelry with malicious intent. "(There's two of them?)" Saya mouthed to the table when she saw the newcomer, whimpering slightly.

"That's Rumia. She used to be like us, then she got the chassis upgrade, and we've been slowly chipping her ego back down to size ever since. She's useful, though," Charlotte smirked. "You'd be surprised how many places you can get into with a token adult in tow."

"I am so very glad I can be of service, Oh Fearless Leader." Rumia said, giving Charlotte the biggest eye-roll she could manage without actually causing her eyeballs to pop out of her head.

"So what aren't you telling me?" Saya asked. "I mean, everybody has powers, but you're not all part of this Puella Magi thing, so where's the rest of it coming from?"

"That's another long story-" Charlotte replied, then suddenly she, Cirno, and Ranko flinched in unison. "And one I won't be able to tell you right now. Duty calls. Loudly." the peach-haired girl grumbled, still wincing slightly, and the three stood up and left the table, leaving Rumia frowning and Wriggle fuming.

"I fucking hate that shit," Wriggle growled. "They've got their special little club, and the rest of us don't get to play. Oh, sure, little bits trickle down to us, like these things," Here Wriggle raised her arm, to show a bracelet crafted of gold links similar to the one Saya had been given, with an iridescent green gem on its face. "But they don't realize that it only rubs our faces in it."

"Keep in mind they're still only Human . . . which is why I grabbed this." Rumia placed a small package in front of Saya. "Ranko is many things, single-minded being one of them. I fully expected she would forget what she was doing when I ran into her, so I relieved her of her duties before she could fail to do them."

"Uh-huh," Saya replied, holding up the item between thumb and forefinger. "I asked for a weapon. This is a glove."

"Is that so?" Rumia snatched the glove from Saya's hand, put it on, and then stole the apple off her tray. "Watch and learn." Lofting the apple over Saya's head, Rumia quickly gestured at it with her gloved hand curled into a claw, which caused a considerable quantity of danmaku to fly forth in a tight pattern. The apple was utterly obliterated, so that not even a bit of pulp landed on Saya's head.

"Okay, fine, I see your point." Saya glared across the table. "I'll take the stupid thing."

Reimu took a hard breath before reaching out to knock on the door. Calm down, it's okay, she's not dead . . . "Ahhh!" Reimu was shocked when she looked up to see that she was about to knock on a fresh corpse.

"Jeez, calm down, ze! It's just me," Marisa mumbled, the words coming out mushy on account of the purple bruises.

"Yes, but, good heavens! I didn't realize you got beat up this badly!"

"Oh this?" Marisa asked, waving her right hand around her head. "That wasn't the bad guys." With a bitter chuckle, Marisa picked up her left arm, letting Reimu see the thick swathe of bandages around it. "You know how the stairs up to my attic go?" Reimu nodded, looking up at the small porthole window on top of Marisa's cottage with distaste. "Well I was trying to put together a potion to numb the pain, and of course Alice can't ever find anything in my stores . . ." Here Reimu rolled her eyes, for trying to call Marisa's stockpile of ingredients "organized" was an affront to language. "Yeah, yeah. Isn't rolling your eyes at an injured woman against your religion, and if it isn't, what kind of bribes does Utsuho like?

"Back to the point though, I got the stuff from upstairs, but apparently on the way down I usually put my left hand on the wall to brace myself. Well, by the time I realized my hand wasn't being obedient, I was already breaking my fall with my face."

"So what you're saying is, the biggest danger to the health of Marisa Kirisame . . . is Marisa Kirisame. Alice!" Reimu shouted over Marisa's shoulder, which brought the puppeteer running. "Why haven't you tied this menace down?"

"I tried. She chewed through the ropes the first time, and now Shanghai won't go near enough to try again." Alice deadpanned.

"So do it yourself then?" Reimu asked, hands on hips.

"How about you do it?" Alice held up her hands and waggled her fingers. "I still have all my digits, and I'd like to keep it that way."

"Mutineers," Marisa growled, but she was still smiling.

"Yes, well, tea is on the table." Alice replied, which was enough to draw Marisa away for the moment.

"So how is she really doing?" Reimu quietly asked.

"She is, I believe the phrase is 'high as a kite'. I've been adding fermented fairycap to the tea, I want to ease her in to the reality of it slowly. She's going to lose the arm. The problem is she had opened the Hakkero almost the whole way when that bitch hit her with the drain attack. It pulled the full power back through her, which would be bad enough, but the casing of the reactor cracked. It's fused into her hand and leaking mana. Eirin put a stasis enchantment on the bandages, which is keeping her from being poisoned, but it's only a matter of time."

"If there's anything you need, just let me know." Reimu said, patting Alice on the shoulder.

"There is, actually; I need a shot at the bitch who did this, and a pike to put her head upon afterward."

"Right then, let's get down to business." Nova clapped her printed notes against the podium before her, feeling foolish as she stood in front of her friends. All of the Puella Magi in Mitikahara were assembled in the conference room adjoining Satori's office, a place that had earned the nickname "The Pit of Despair" for all the bad news that had been delivered there since Tirei Tower was set up. In contrast to the name, however, the gathering had a much more jovial, party-like atmosphere. This was in no small part Koishi's doing; she was reading the others with her Third Eye fully opened, and pushing positive vibes onto the empathic link where needed, managing the mood in the room much like a DJ lining up tracks.

There were a few attendees who weren't part of the network, but they were getting taken in by the positive atmosphere as well. These included Captain Daichi Miki, operating in his official capacity as commanding officer of STAR along with his nemesis-turned-ally Hirou Yamaguchi, who was operating in his official capacity as chief of the local Yakuza, and provider of such illicit goods and services as were necessary. Satori was present as well, but for her the positive mood was almost as uncomfortable as the previous night's sorrow, and she found herself unconsciously doing leg stretches as she stood in the back of the room, which didn't work nearly as well in a proper business suit.

"Point of order: Use an inside voice when talking inside somebody's head!" Sayaka called out, which set off a round of jeers and popcorn-throwing. In the two years of living with their mutual empathic connection, the Puella Magi had learned several ways they could utilize the link, but one major constraint remained; the "volume" of the voice decreased based on the distance between sender and receiver, so in order to catch the attention of Hitomi and Akiko, who were clear across town at the school, Nova had ended up blasting everybody in the building with the equivalent of a megaphone held directly to their ears.

"Sorry about that. Trust me, right now I'd understand if you decided to wrap these-" Here, Nova tugged on her long white sidelocks, which were meant to echo her original form as an Incubator. "Around my head and strangle me with them." I completely forgot that I could do this. Nova finished her explanation using the latent telepathy which Incubators possessed to speak with their Contractees.

"That's fine for calling out to people, but try not to use it unless you have to, alright?" Sayaka said, making a "wait a minute" gesture in order to finish her explanation. "When you use the link, you sound like you, but when you use the telepathy, you sound like, well, Kyubey."

"So noted," Nova replied, blanching at the thought. There was a small eternity's worth of bad karma sitting in Nova's account from her actions before becoming Human, and the last thing she wanted to do was add to it by reminding her friends of the bad old days. Of course, the situation is such that I'm going to have to go back to some of that time, Nova realized, but she kept that thought to herself.

"Anyway, back to business. You all know me, and know that I've gotten better about handling what's thrown our way since we started on this journey, I trust?" Nova scanned the faces of her friends, making sure to meet each pair of eyes with her golden ones. The curious phenomenon of golden eyes so far had manifested only for her and Madoka, and then only after they had each faced the darkness in their hearts and overcome it. There's still so much we don't know about this magic, even for we who created the ritual and started this Project. If "created" is even the right word. Still, it doesn't seem fair; embrace the Witch as Kyoko and Sayaka have done, and you gain new powers. Reject the Witch like me and Madoka, and you get a cosmetic upgrade.

"So please understand that I'm trying not to be any more dramatic than is absolutely necessary when I say that our new opponents in this Incident are interesting, and when I say 'interesting', I really mean 'oh god oh god, we're all gonna die'." Nova delivered the line deadpan, which drew a few chuckles and a few more rolled eyes. A series of images flashed up on the screen, each one a rough dossier of sorts. Kyoko and Sayaka both recognized Vita and Signum from the battle, and they knew well the weapons being shown alongside them, and while they hadn't laid eyes on the third Knight, a simple process of elimination linked Shamal's image to the hand that had torn Marisa apart from the inside.

"These are the Wolkenritter, a group of combat mages trained in the way of Ancient Belka. Belkan mages are called 'Knights', for what should be fairly obvious reasons, and these three are top of the line specimens of the form. I say 'specimens' because they aren't really living beings; they're conjurations, drawn from an artifact of tremendous power, known as the Book of Darkness. The Book links itself to a prospective mage, and if that person decides to open the Book, it grants the mage the service of the Wolkenritter, and sets in motion a powerful ritual. Once the book has fed upon a sufficient quantity of magical energy, it becomes fully active. At this point the Book can make just about anything the mage might wish for come true."

"Why do I not like where this is going?" Homura asked, glaring at the screen that displayed an image of the Book of Darkness itself.

"Because if it was going somewhere good, I wouldn't have called everybody here to explain all this stuff." Nova replied. The next slide popped up on the screen, and this image drew gasps of unpleasant surprise from those in the room who hadn't quite pieced together what Homura had; the screen showed the Wolkenritter flanking a man who held forth the opened Book of Darkness in a prayerful manner. The shock was on account of the identity of the man with the Book- those in the room knew him as Proteus, Unit 001, leader of the Incubators.

"Yes, that picture means what you're thinking. We used the power of the Book of Darkness to kickstart the Incubation Project, eons ago. The combat techniques and weaponry gifted to a Puella Magi upon her making the Contract are based on Belkan techniques. The Soul Grasp spell they use to fill the Book- any of them can do it, if they're holding the Book- is the same spell we use to extract and create the Soul Gem. In short they can do everything we can, only without being tied down by the corruption that fills us."

"Is there any good news to all of this, or should I just go ahead and start with the misery-binging right now?" Kyoko asked, extracting a packet of Pocky from her jacket.

"I don't know if it's actually good good news, but then you've never needed an excuse to eat everything in sight before, so I suppose that makes us even? Either way, mages aren't exactly a dime a dozen around here, so they can't have filled many pages of the Book yet. That means if we can find whoever their master is, we can put them out of busy-ness pretty quickly."

"You're wrong." The rebuttal came from Satori, who looked grim. "There are a bunch of beings with magical energy ripe for the harvest in the vicinity. All they need to do is figure out how to get across the Border into Gensokyo, then they'll have a feast of souls."

"Ooh, yeah. I forgot about that. So, um, mind passing the Pocky up here?"

"Yo, Merry! Renko! You guys coming along, or not?" At first, Renko Usami was more impressed than annoyed at being awoken by a shout outside her door- the guest rooms were well insulated, so the shouter had to have a pretty impressive set of lungs. Of course, the voice sounded like Hotaru, so that wasn't overly surprising.

Unlike Saya, Renko had still been awake when she was shown to her accommodations, which meant she had the benefit of being dressed in a comfortable set of pajamas, rather than her street clothes, and she also understood how the communications system next to the bed worked. Picking up the handset, Renko punched a button which routed her voice to an intercom on the door. "What am I supposed to be coming for?"

"We're going shopping, to get clothes and house stuff."

"Uh, I . . . can't, not right now. Go on without me." Renko replied, hesitantly.

"If it's money, don't worry 'bout it, Tirei's picking up the tab." Hotaru replied.

"That's not it. It's complicated. Seriously, go. We'll catch up later."

"Fair 'nuff." Hotaru replied, and Renko caught the faint sound of footsteps over the intercom. That problem taken care of, Renko sank back down on to her pillow with a pained exhalation of breath- just that short conversation had left her with a serious kink in her shoulder from the awkward way she had been forced to sit. And the reason for that was still wrapped around her at the waist, and also still asleep.

Renko had realized there was something special about Maribel Hearn the day they first met. Not in the romantic sense (although Renko didn't mind sharing sleeping accommodations with Merry in the slightest), but in the way of the supernatural. While Merry's gift had lead the pair on several adventures, sometimes scary, always exciting, it also made her highly sensitive to things unnatural. Being drawn into the Witch's Barrier the previous night had rattled Merry; being unable to break free of the magical entrapment had left her utterly shaken. It had taken Renko almost until dawn to soothe Merry enough for her to sleep, and when she had been awoken by Hotaru's summons, Renko discovered that Merry had taken to her as a hug pillow. Even if she had wanted to spend the day in the company of the middle-school refugees, Renko didn't think anything short of a crowbar was going to dislodge Merry at this point. At least I don't need to use the . . . uh-oh! Renko gritted her teeth as her waking body informed her of business she needed to attend to.

"Alright, c'mon Merry, we need to work something out here . . ." With no actual crowbar at hand, Renko studied her environs for something she could actually use, finally settling on one of the large, squishy pillows. By tucking this next to her body and applying some strategic tickles to her partner, Renko was able to coax Merry to take the pillow into her clutches instead, and then Renko made good her escape.

"Now, why do the wrench never be where I left it?" Nitori frowned at the Guarlion hanging before her on the test stand, frustrated by the incongruity. Tearing down the captured machine to learn its secrets was priority number one, and if that wasn't motivation enough, Nitori had plenty of reason to want to lose herself in her work. Marisa was one of the kappa's few friends, and she burned with the need to do something, anything to strike back at the DC for what had happened. At the same time, Nitori knew she didn't have the strength to go toe-to-toe with the DC elite or the Wolkenritter, and so she was in the workshop instead, trying to do something that would help those who could do the fighting. Having to admit that, however, had the kappa engineer angry enough to chew steel and spit rivets.

A tap against the back of her hand caused Nitori to reflexively snatch at whatever it was that touched her, and she found her hand closing around a length of cool steel. Surprised, Nitori looked down and realized she had just been handed the wrench she had been looking for. "Where did this-?"

"It was laying on the other side of the suit. Do you want the rest of the toolkit?" Ryusei asked, squatting on his heels.

"That would be excellent, thank you." Nitori replied, although she didn't wait to see if Ryusei was following through before she dived back into her work, detaching the wiring harness that supplied the leg-mounted EM Floater Field device. "You do be one of the kids rescued yesterday, yes? I didn't expect you to be interested in mechanic's work."

"Yeah, well, I've been interested in how these guys work ever since they showed up. I wanted to pilot one, when I got old enough."

"Wanted to? What do you be wanting to do now?" Nitori asked after a long minute of sizing her "patient" up. "Also, hand me that mallet, please? The two-kilo deadblow, the one with the bright red handle, and careful, it do be heavier than it looks."

"Uh, got it. Oof!" Ryusei grunted as he passed the mallet to Nitori. "And after what happened last night, I don't think I could work for the DC, no matter how bad I want-" Ryusei broke off in favor of cringing back and clapping his hands over his ears as Nitori took the mallet in a two handed grip and slammed it down on the back of the Guarlion's knee, which caused the entire lower leg to disengage and crash to the floor. "-wanted to pilot an AF."

"Well, there do be other places to get an AF besides the Crusaders," Nitori replied, pointing down the workshop at where four fresh Gespenst suits stood.

"There do be at that, I suppose." Ryusei replied, chuckling when he realized that he had copied Nitori's curious dialect. "Uh, sorry. Wasn't trying to be rude."

"Not a problem. Keep fetching tools for me and we do be more than even."

"Absolutely!" Ryusei exclaimed, giddy at the chance to dig deeper into one of the fascinating machines, which was the literal case by the time Saya and Wriggle found him- or rather his legs sticking out of the partially disassembled upper torso. Ryusei had climbed in to get at the finger switches for actuating the Guarlion's systems, toggling them one at a time so Nitori could trace which power leads they connected to, and thence disconnect the improved, burst-firing railgun from the right arm without detonating the capacitors, which would pretty much ruin both their days, and a good chunk of the workshop besides.

"Hey, Ryusei! Hop down, we're gonna go shopping, replace our stuff we had to leave behind in Uminari." Saya called out, after knocking on the front glacis of the Guarlion to get the boy's attention.

"If it's all the same, I'd rather stay here. I'm helping Miss Nitori with the teardown . . ." Ryusei trailed off, his ears going red, for he knew that Saya was very well aware of his fascination with the machine.

"Actually, unless you have more clothes, I do think it be in your best interest to go with them." Nitori stated, waving a hand to include Ryusei's front, which was spattered and stained with myomer fluid, coolant, and penetrating oil from collar to pant-cuffs.

"Huh. Yeah, I think that might be a good idea."

After collecting Rumia for the "token adult" factor, the foursome descended upon Mitikahara's expansive mall, and the first stop was one of the school-approved outfitters, wherein Ryusei was fitted for the standard-issue uniform, said uniform was obtained along with sundries, and then he was bundled off to the health club on the first floor, in order to use its locker room to wash up.

While waiting for Ryusei to return to the land of the clean, Saya attempted to strike up a conversation, regarding the topic foremost on her mind. "So Hota- er, Wriggle- where do we go now, with school and all?"

"Uh, if you want, you can keep calling me Hotaru. It's kinda grown on me."

"And it helps you out in the Girlfriend War, I bet." Saya snickered.

"Hey! I am not going to take that from you!" Hotaru shot back. "The fuck do you even know about a relationship in the first place?"

"I know plenty, thank you, like the fact that changing your name to lay claim to somebody is just creepy." Saya twisted a finger into her hair to keep from putting her fists up.

"Yeah, right! Romance manga doesn't count, and with that attitude of yours, I know you've never gotten any closer to a live date than that!"

"Ahem," Rumia tried to get the attention of the combatants before they caused too much of a spectacle, and when that didn't work, she gave a little sigh and stepped up next to the girls. "Well, since Charlotte isn't here to use her magic charms on you two, I guess we're going with Plan B."

"Wait, what's Plan B?" Hotaru asked, having only tuned in to Rumia's speech at the end, after the mention of Charlotte had percolated from her ears to her brain.

"Just this," came Rumia's cheerful reply, followed by her placing a hand on each girl's head and clunking the two of them together painfully.

"Ow! Was that really necessary?" Saya asked, rubbing her forehead.

"Was getting into an instant catfight really necessary?"

On her way out of the classroom, Nanoha took one last forlorn look at the seat in the back corner that had remained empty for the entire day. I'm so sorry, Saya. There must have been something different we could have done, something more we could have done for you, so you wouldn't have felt like you had to leave with those . . . others. Nanoha shivered; there had been a total of eight disappearances from the school from the dreadful events of the previous evening. Between her recollection of the battle, and Fate's and Arf's, they could account for six of those missing. Subtract Ranko and Hotaru, who were the ones who caused those disappearances, that leaves four that we know were taken. And that means . . . Nanoha shivered again. All of the students who disappeared had done so without a trace. We saw Ranko round up the others and teleport away after the monster's barrier fell, so we know it's not that only those with magic powers can pass through. So only the living made it out of the barrier.

Fate was waiting for Nanoha outside the classroom, along with Arisa and Suzuka, but while the latter two were laughing and joking, Fate looked worried, and the reason why was concealed in the palm of her hand; a quick flash of the hand showed Nanoha the message on Fate's phone, a text from Lindy, but in her official capacity as commander of the Time-Space Administration Bureau's mission on Earth.

"So, where to first?" Arisa asked, corralling Nanoha and Fate with an arm over each one's shoulder. "Library, or shall we hit up the cafe? I know I could use something warm and sweet to chase away those bad dreams from last night!"

"Sorry, Arisa-chan, we've got to go do some work on a- a special project. We'll go for coffee and cakes tomorrow, I promise, my treat." Nanoha tried to give her friend a cheery smile as she slipped out from beneath Arisa's grasp, and then she and Fate headed for the exit as fast as they could manage without arousing suspicion.

Arisa was suspicious of the pair, but for different reasons. "Ahh, those two! I swear, they should just friggin' elope already!"

"Arisa!" Suzuka exclaimed, trying to hold down her giggles long enough to give the blonde girl a proper chastizing. "That's not very nice. We're too young to do something like that, for one."

"Ha! Is that the best you've got, Suzuka Tsukimura? No 'girls can't love girls'," Arisa said in a sing-song voice, trying to emulate Suzuka's high, sweet voice and curdling it horribly. "Not even a 'maybe they aren't head-over-heels in love with each other', just 'we're too young to do that'. So you admit we're on the same page, now it's just a matter of hashing out the terms!"

"A-ri-sa!" Suzuka cried out once more, scandalized. "This is a friendship we're talking about, not an auction! And what was with that voice! Who talks like that? Bad Arisa! No cake for you!"

"Hey! Low blow, Tsukimura!"

"Captain Haralown, what is the situation?" Nanoha asked immediately upon arriving at Fate's house, which drew a chuckle from Lindy and an outright howl of laughter from Arf.

"Whoa there, settle down, this isn't boot camp."

"You did send us a message signed 'from Captain Lindy Haralown, Mission Commander, TSAB UW-97 Survey Mission', so it sounded like pretty official business, Lindy-san." Nanoha stated, reading the titles off her phone.

". . . Oops," Lindy replied, chuckling behind her hand. "I should probably change my sig sometime. I only sent it from the official box because I was logged in to the TSAB network at the time. But I do need to show you two this, it's a missive from HQ concerning your friends from last night." That drew frowns from Nanoha and Fate both, which deepened once Lindy flipped on the projector and began displaying the information she had been sent.

"The . . . 'Puella Magi'? They're an organized group?" Nanoha wondered aloud.

"Yes and no. It would be more accurate to say a Puella Magi is a specific type of mage, and from what I've read, they're bad news. Their magic is an offshoot of Ancient Belkan techniques, which is bad enough, but then it gets worse." Fate stuck out her tongue and shook her head as if someone had just stuffed rotten fruit in her mouth upon hearing that news; Precia Testarossa had been searching for Belkan tech to power her resurrection device, which was not a point in favor of the strange silver-haired girl they had crossed blades with, in Fate's mind. And there's worse? Fate thought, seeing from Nanoha's expression that she was thinking the same thing.

"Puella Magi can be created from anyone with even the slightest spark of magical potential, and the ritual to do so is, well, take a look." Lindy played a clip from the TSAB archives which got all three of her charges looking sick.

"Did that thing just rip out that girl's Linker Core?" Nanoha asked, staring wide-eyed at the image displayed before her.

"That's what the notes say. Apparently, it makes it easier for the girl to draw upon the power in her Core, and also gives the girl limited invulnerability; as long as the Soul Gem- that's their name for it, and pretty literal at that- is intact and has energy, the body will regenerate from any amount of damage, even, uh, disintegration it looks like.

"Here's the real problem though." Lindy continued, bringing up a new image- the black iron ball that Ranko had been so zealous in taking possession of at the end of the fight. "Apparently, once they've gone through that ritual, the Puella Magi girls can only replenish mana by drawing upon a negative energy source- their term is 'Grief Seed', and again, that's about the right of it; because the Linker Core is no longer within the body, it must maintain a certain amount of energy or it will cease to exist, along with the owner. Problem is, these things are a finite resource, created only from the aberrations which seem to spawn in response to a Puella Magi being created, or from one of the girls themselves when they die."

"That's horrible!" Nanoha exclaimed.

"Survival of the fittest," Fate mused, which put all eyes on her. Blushing slightly for having let her thoughts slip out like that, Fate pursed her lips and completed her train of thought. "It means they'll be like we were during the Jewel Seed Incident, their every encounter is a fight against the monster and their competitors. That would explain why Kanzaki went at us so hard last night- if all she had known was the Puella Magi way, she would have seen us as enemies.

"Now, here comes the worst part." Lindy poked the projector again, bringing up a larger, more detailed image of the creature who had been involved in the creation ritual. "This is an Incubator. These creatures are conjured magical beasts, similar to a familiar, who administer the creation ritual. According to the records, the ritual grants the new Puella Magi a 'wish' of sorts, releasing a large amount of nonquantifiable magical energy, and feeding the Incubator a similar amount of negative energy. In past encounters, the effects of some of these exchanges registered in the S-Rank-plus range, which means these creatures qualify as Lost Logia."

"A living Lost Logia. As if the normal kind that just lay on the ground weren't hard enough to find and seal." Fate glared at the projector.

"Cheer up, Fate-chan, think of it like that time when that cat swallowed a Jewel Seed!" Nanoha replied, trying to find a positive spin on the situation.

"Or we could not go there. Blech!" Arf wrinkled her nose.

"Right, well locomotion aside, we need to find these guys ASAP. This comes from Gil Graham's office." Lindy indicated the projector and the information contained within. "Apparently the Deep Space Patrol Fleet has been having serious trouble with these Incubator creatures, and so there was a flag set for whenever a mention of them showed up in mission logs. Or even sensor records, it seems, as I hadn't filed an official report on this situation yet. That should tell you how much trouble they're causing though. Our orders are to put any Puella Magi we find into protective custody and hold them in AMF-equipped accommodations, in order to keep their Linker Cores from degrading any further, and to capture any Incubators on the planet and put them into stasis prison."

"That seems pretty harsh," Fate remarked.

"I know it seems that way, but it's really for the best. These girls weren't aware of the circumstances when they entered into the ritual, and we need to do all that we can to keep them from dying to mana exhaustion. That also means use a light touch when approaching them; we don't want any of these girls getting drained by fighting with us and dying for it."

"Fine, fine, choking the new kids to death on their own stupid system, unless of course one of 'em hurts Fate, 'cause then I'm gonna kill 'em the old-fashioned way." Arf growled.

"Paging any executive officer to the front desk, executive officer, front desk, please respond." Satori glared at her phone as she heard the page- the wording and repetition was a company code that meant "Him/her/it at the front desk is a problem, and an urgent one", and Satori wasn't in any sort of mood to deal with problems of the sort. At least there hadn't been two repetitions of the form- that would have meant "send in the Gespents, and don't stop shooting until the problem can be washed down the floor drain", but when Satori took a look at the man waiting at the desk, she wondered if the receptionist hadn't underestimated the threat.

Rin got there first, and she decided to cut to the chase. "Who the hell are you, and why should I not have you hauled outta here by security?"

"I am Professor Shu Shirakawa, with the Uminari Central School District by way of the Skyreach Partnership Project."

"That's nice for you." Rin replied, before leaning on the desk and making a point of stabbing at a key on the intercom. "Security, report to the front desk, and bring one of the dumpsters for burnable trash around front!"

"Real cute, but I think you will find that setting fire to a Skyreach employee is not going to enhance your standing when it comes to the next round of contract negotiations," Shu replied smoothly. "More to the point, as you are no doubt well aware, there was a large-scale engagement between the Divine Crusaders and a special operations organization based out of this very city. Two students were missing from my Applied Sciences class today, which concerned me greatly, but then, lo and behold! I find security camera footage from your shopping center here, showing none other than my missing students. Truancy is a crime, miss, and kidnapping is a worse one."

"So's espionage." Shu turned suddenly to face the speaker behind him, with a narrowing of the eyes being the only visible sign of his irritation.

"I beg your pardon . . ?" Shu replied, searching the speaker for identification.

"Daichi Miki. Captain Daichi Miki, of the Mitikahara Constabulary, which you would have already known had you gone through the necessary procedures to obtain that footage legally."

"Petty bureaucratic threats do not change the facts of the matter." Shu replied, testily.

"Perhaps not, but the full security audit that the JSDF will be performing on the Uminari schools does. There was no defense grid, not even an evacuation or shelter-in-place plan, and this was the flagship Skyreach operation in Japan. I am not letting those children return there until the place doesn't look like an all-you-can-eat buffet for the DC."

"I fail to see how your method of property-destroying firefights is any safer, but no matter. Play your little games, Captain, but I expect to see evidence that those students are enrolled in an accredited educational program by the end of the week. Not that I expect a provincial operation like Mitikahara will measure up to the standards we've set in the Partnership Program, but I don't want them falling too far behind. Good day."

"So, opinions?" Satori asked, after having convened a group of relevant experts in her office and shown them the security tapes of the encounter with the esteemed Professor from Uminari.

"Yeah, I've got one; I'm gonna cut that sonofabitch's throat next time I see him." Sayaka barked. "Provincial? Ha!"

"While I'm not a nerd, and so couldn't care less what he said about the school," Kyoko put in, earning herself a deathly glare from Sayaka. "The guy is phonier than a 17-yen coin."

"I must, ah, concur with my future daughter-in-law's assessment," Captain Miki added, dryly. "He was very smooth, polished even, which is the sign of a criminal who has spent too much time rehearsing his alibi. My only question is, what's his break? He's interested in the kids, so he probably knows something about where they came from, I'm just not sure if he's a DC mole, Skyreach counter-intelligence, or playing his own game on Skyreach's dime."

"Now would be the point where I tell you that I scanned him with my Third Eye, and not only was his mind well guarded . . ." Satori re-wound the security footage to a specific point and ran it in slow-motion so that the others could see the slight flicker on Shu's face as his attention was drawn away from Rin. "He also noticed, and looked right at me through two floors of the building when I did so."

"Great, more superfreaks with unknowable motives. Just what we need." Kyoko growled. "Okay, new plan. Satori, get Homerun and Yamaguchi up here. And get the justice-lovers outta here."

"Okay, what the hell are you planning?" Sayaka demanded, fists on hips.

"Blueberry, you really don't want to know. And I think for legal reasons you shouldn't know . . . Dad." Kyoko stated, smirking.

"Right, fine, whatever. Don't expect me to bail you out when this scheme blows up in your face." Sayaka replied, stalking for the door.

"Trust me, sweetie, if this blows up in my face, you won't be able to do shit until I regenerate." Kyoko muttered once the Mikis had left the room.

"Do you mind telling me what's going on at least, since presumably you expect me to be picking up the tab?" Satori asked, intrigued.

"Well, it's pretty simple- wait, can't you just read my mind?"

"Your lot are harder to read than normals, or even most youkai. You should be proud."

"Uh, okay?" Kyoko raised an eyebrow. "Er, wait, you mean me, specifically? Why?"

"Well, I only came in at the end of it, but from what I understand your amorous adventures with Sayaka drove the others to sharpen up their psychic barriers. Your own attempts to curtail the amount of 'leakage' gives you a similar resistance. But never mind that. What's this idea of yours?" Satori asked, moving past the personal conversation when Kyoko began to look nauseous.

"When I was fighting that little brat, I got a real good read on just how tough she is. I'm not real good with numbers, but let me break a few things on a test stand and I can show you exactly how much force it would take to destroy her."

"And you want me to build a weapon that can deliver that kind of damage?"

"Nooo . . ." Kyoko shook her head. "I want you to build a sniper rifle that can deliver enough damage to splatter that bitch all over the pavement like a watermelon tossed of the top of the Tower, and then I want Homerun to put that gun into use in an appropriate situation, like say from across town while they're having dinner and not paying attention."

"That seems . . . extreme."

"Yeah, I really don't care. I've been a Puella Magi for three and a half years now. Check with Nova if you want to, but that's ancient by our standards. You might not think it to look at me, but I'm sick of fighting. I want nothing more to die . . . when I'm old and gray, after a long and happy marriage. Well, I don't know if I'm gonna get the gray part," Kyoko poked at her face, which had not changed one bit since the day she first Contracted. "But I'd sure like the rest of it. And Step 1 of that plan is putting these assholes in a hole in the ground before me and mine get hurt."

"I understand your concerns. However . . ." Kyoko gritted her teeth, marshaling her best arguments to counter whatever reservations Satori put forth. "What do you need Yamaguchi-san for?"

"That's, er . . ." Kyoko trailed off, not sure how to react to a lack of pushback. "I just figured we'd probably need some kinda special parts to make it work, so might as well get the black market guy in on the project from the get-go."

"I'm sure the Old Cat will be flattered by your high opinion of him, but I've got him on assignment right now for one, and also, you do remember that the official front of this operation is a manufacturing firm, and since we have a contract with Skyreach, I can just pick up the phone and have whatever we need shipped directly to the workshop?"

"Uh . . . huh. I guess it slipped my mind. I'm still getting used to this whole 'doing things on the level' business." Kyoko replied, with a bashful grin.

"That's assuming you actually start trying to do things on the level." Homura said, dryly, having entered Satori's office at the tail end of the conversation. The black-haired Puella Magi seemed to be as close to cheerful as she capable of being, but Kyoko and Satori could both feel the psychic pain hidden beneath that facade, chewing away at her from inside.

"Now, that's not very nice, Homura-chan!" Madoka added. "After all, it only took Nova 25,000 years to change her ways, I'm sure Kyoko will come around eventually!"

"Ouch," Kyoko replied with a theatric wince. "Pinkie scores a critical hit, as usual. Speaking of shooting things, Homerun, how do you feel about shooting some people in the head while they're not looking?"

"It depends. Do they deserve it?"

"They're the Wolkencritters." Kyoko replied. "And I'm having Three Eyes build you a sniper rifle that can shoot down a small moon to do it with."

"Well, I suppose . . ." Homura made it sound like she was being put upon, but the gleam in her eyes told a different story. "As long as you give me time to savor it afterwards."

For the Wolkenritter, the mission which lay before them was rather outside their area of expertise, and truth be told, not something they would have chosen to undertake. But a Knight of Ancient Belka staked her honor on never shirking from duty; if the circumstances absolutely warranted it, a retreat would be called, but to outright abandon a quest? Never. "Operations, are you ready?"

"Ready!" Signum nodded, taking her place.

"Logistics?"

"Ready!" Shamal spread her hands over the supplies she had prepared.

"Support?"

"Ayep!" Vita grinned.

"Commence operation!" Hayate commanded.

BGM: Edvard Grieg – Peer Gynt – "In the Hall of the Mountain King"

The first steps were simple enough the participants didn't need direction for them- Signum took up the brand-new wok, a replacement for the one that had been destroyed the last time Shamal tried cooking a dish from scratch, and put it upon the gas burner on the family stove. Meanwhile, Vita hoisted Hayate up on to her shoulders, so that Hayate could see what was going on. Hayate loved to cook, but with the way the kitchen was set up there was no way she could reach the burners to do anything terribly fancy. Enlisting her friends to be her hands sounded marginally easier than demolishing the kitchen and having it rebuilt at wheelchair-height, and so here they were.

"Oil!" Hayate commanded, and Shamal dumped a generous dab into the pan. The Knights' duties in the kitchen were predetermined by their temperaments- as much as Shamal suffered misfortune when in control of the pan, Signum was equally unsuited to prep work; she had a tendency to treat every blade the same as her Laevateinn, and Hayate's recipe did not call for vegetables that had been shredded to a pulp.

Vita was chosen to carry Hayate around because that way she was roughly at head-height to the other Wolkenritter. Zafira had offered to do the carrying duties, but the first time he had picked Hayate up, her head nearly went through the apartment's rather low ceiling. In any case, Vita wouldn't have it any other way- of the four, she was the most enthusiastic in her devotion to her current master. Shamal shared a look with Signum as she dumped the garlic and scallions in the pan, and after their long years of service, that glance was as good as telepathy. Vita would cut off her own arm and serve it up for supper if Mistress Hayate asked her to!

Now Vita was directed to bring Hayate in close for the most critical stage of the operation. A mistake here would mean going out for a meal . . . a long meal, while the house aired out from the stench of incinerated garlic. The aromatics were brown and sizzling when Hayate called for the cooking wine, and she couldn't help giggle as Signum pulled a fencer's dodge away from the sudden puff of flame that came when she was ordered to flare the pan.

"Meat!" Hayate called out next, leaning in to put a critical eye on the pan. "Soy sauce!" was the next call, and in it went, foaming and searing and eventually making a delightful smell. The spatula sped back and forth and the pan tilted up and down as Signum worked to make sure everything cooked and nothing burnt, while Hayate gestured and barked orders, a conductor overseeing a symphony of supper.

When the rice cooker finally beeped, calling an end to the preparations, Signum looked to Shamal again, and a "pulling" gesture told her that the Lady of the Lake was still on the same page; that was more work than the time the Tyrant of Terin-Desh made us take his pet hydra for a walk!

But worth every bit of effort, they concluded, seeing Hayate's face as she was placed in her seat at the head of the table.

It is the little things in life that sometimes make the biggest difference. Such as this most excellent chair. A twenty-year veteran of the Kriegsmarine, Mayer von Branstein was not a man to loll about in idle luxury, but he appreciated touches that aided in the performance of his duties- the heated cupholder, for one, and the notch in the armrest to permit a man to sit comfortably without removing his sword scabbard from his belt beforehand. And the control switches that sat just before his fingers on the armrests, that let Captain von Branstein pull all of the relevant information before his gaze when things decided to go directly to hell.

The last feature was coming in most handy at the moment, for von Branstein's command, the submersible assault carrier Orcus, had just abruptly opened the muzzle doors for two of its forward torpedo tubes. There were only supposed to be three people aboard ship who could do that- the Captain himself, the weapons officer, and the chief engineer through use of the master maintenance lockout key. Both of those latter individuals were looking at von Branstein and respectfully asking him "what the hell is going on, sir?", so that ruled them out as suspects, and a quick inspection of the control panels on the captain's chair showed that he hadn't accidentally hit the switches either. To make matters worse, there were objects of an unidentified nature loaded in both tubes. Definitely time to send this up the chain, the Captain thought, paging his boss to the bridge.

Valcyone stepped on to the bridge just moments later- her command center was only one compartment aft of the bridge, and she had already noticed the flurry of unusual activity. "What is the matter, Captain?" she asked, taking a tone of polite curiosity, not accusation. The leader of the DC had the utmost faith in the captain of her flagship, and even if she didn't, she knew better than to undermine a fellow officer in public.

"We have an unusual situation developing with the forward torpedo tubes. How do you wish to proceed?" von Branstein asked, tilting his screen to present the problem to Valcyone, who snarled when she read the situation.

"Permit me to investigate the compartment, Captain, I think I know what's going on here, but stand ready for action if it turns out to be something else."

"As you command," the Captain replied, but Valcyone was already stalking from the compartment with purposeful speed.

"Ahh, I am a genius," Alchemie hummed to herself as she sat upon the #3 torpedo tube, which contained her latest and greatest creation. Then, without warning, a beam of coherent light cracked through the space just above her head, so close that Alchemie could feel a sunburn forming on her scalp from the spillover of radiant energy.

"Eee! Quit shooting! I'm a friendly!" Alchemie cried out, tumbling off her perch in favor of cowering behind the torpedo-launching machinery. The Orcus' eight forward torpedo tubes were layed out in a flat line on the deck, instead of the traditional double columns of submarines of old. This arrangement made it easier for the crew to service the tubes and their autoloaders, but it meant that Alchemie's choice of hiding spots was less than ideal, especially considering the height of her attacker.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize," Valcyone said in a darkly sarcastic snarl. "When the equipment on my ship started malfunctioning, my first thought was 'saboteur', not . . . what the hell are you doing, exactly?"

"I-ice cream?" Alchemie ventured, daring to peek over the edge of her cover.

"Ice cream?! What does that have to do with the torpedo tubes?"

"Well, it has to be stirred and chilled," Alchemie replied, as though it were obvious. Valcyone gave her Incubator a dirty look, and motioned for her to explain with the beam gun. "Alright, calm down, meanie. Watch." Alchemie toggled the loading cycle on the torpedo tube, which caused it to eject the object currently inside- a torpedo, inserted backwards. "I put the ingredients in the propulsion chamber. With the propeller blades exposed to the water flowing over the bow, it makes them spin, which turns the turbine blades inside to churn the ice cream, and the flow bypass chills the mix."

"That's as ingenious as it is idiotic," Valcyone murmured. "Say, is that mint chocolate chip?" the leader of the DC asked, looking at the brown-flecked green substance revealed when Alchemie removed the engine cover on the torpedo.

"No, silly, lime and coffee-bean. There's cherry cheesecake in Tube #5 though."

"Right, silly me." Valcyone rolled her eyes, before stepping on the load controls for the other tube. "This is compensation for when I'm going to have to explain to Captain von Branstein and the command crew what happened," said Valcyone as she hefted the other torpedo up on to the shoulder of her suit. "Also, you do know there's an ice cream maker in the rec room, right?"

"I am not going to sit the basement of the largest, most powerful warship in Human history and turn a hand crank, thank you very much!"

"So borrow an air wrench from Maintenance. That's gotta be easier than washing out two torpedoes by hand," Valcyone replied, giggling as she watched Alchemie slap her forehead. "Good thing you spent more time thinking your Wish through, huh?"

"Not. Funny." the human-ized Incubator huffed. "If we fail, we won't get another chance to set things right."

"I'm well aware of that fact. You've only harped on it every week since I made my Contract!" Valcyone sighed. "It'd be nice to have at least one other set of shoulders to carry this burden. I'm speaking metaphorically, by the way. I've got this just fine." the DC leader spoke quickly, to forestall an overly literal misinterpretation of the situation by Alchemie. "And no, that monster you have chained up in the labs doesn't count."

"I've explained to you before why we can't just churn out Contracts like . . . ahh, nevermind where that metaphor was going."

"Well, since we're stuck outsourcing our anti-mage work to people you neither trust nor like, why don't you explain it to me again?"

"You want to know the reason, the real reason why I haven't just contracted up a dozen girls, stuck them all in Guarlions for good measure, and yoked this whole world to do our bidding, instead of taking it by pieces and scraps like we're doing?"

"Yeah, that'd be about the size of it," Valcyone replied, giving Alchemie a glare that contained a lethal dose of sarcasm.

"Because that only fixes the problem, and we need to solve it." Alchemie stated, earning her an even more skeptical stare. Strange, I wasn't aware a Human face could contort so.

"Follow me here. And actually follow me, before the ice cream melts." Alchemie hefted her own container and started back towards her quarters, with Valcyone shaking her head in disbelief as she followed. Good thing this ship is mostly automated, so I don't have to run into anybody and explain all this!

"If we were going to go for the fix, we wouldn't even need to make any Contracts at all- I'd just go to the Incubator enclave and put a knife to their throats, get them to make me the Overseer of Purifiers. With a full Communion, we could enact the Omega protocol."

"That's the 'Ragnarok' thing you mentioned?"

"In your language, yes." Alchemie agreed. "With that in place I simply snap my fingers and woof, no more Balmarian invasion fleet. And that's where the problem lies- it wouldn't be you Humans stopping them. So next time- and there will be a next time, I assure you. There are older and fouler things out there then the Balmarians. In either case, it might be a thousand years or more, but something else will come along. Only this time, the Enclave is no longer here. Maybe they re-started the Project, or moved on, or were simply destroyed by their own stupidity. And this time, Earth doesn't have the power to save itself."

"That's all well and good, but . . . what if we lose?"

"Then we damn well better go down swinging, and make sure whatever beats us is hard enough for the challenges that lay ahead."