Mami was hospitalized again. Her sickness had returned, and it was worse this time. From what I could hear from the doctors, they weren't sure if she could recover or not; not because of the sickness itself, but because her body had finally grown too frail to fight it. Not even Soul Gems provide immortality. Since I'd contracted her in her youth, I couldn't offer her a wish to restore her body now, and she had no one close to her I could potentially contract to save her life either. I felt angry at myself again, knowing no way to help her.

I stayed close to her nonetheless, remaining a silent presence when doctors were around and giving her company when she was alone. My biology was incompatible with what was causing her sickness, so I was the only living being she could safely touch and hold.

Days passed, and the doctors' prognoses grew worse. I was split between resignation that Mami would die soon and defiance that refused to accept it. I knew Mami was resilient - Magical Girls must be - and gave her all the companionship I could in hopes it would inspire her to recover.

I'd taken to perching myself on the end of Mami's hospital bed. Our talks slowly ceased; Mami spent more time resting as days passed. Mami never got visitors other than me, and her doctors didn't hold any meaningful conversations with her. They didn't understand her the way I did. Perhaps no one else understood her the way I did. And, likewise, she understood me in ways no one else did, or perhaps even could.

Then, one morning, I felt it. Another presence.

They had come. It was today. Why did it have to be today?

"Incubator."

I froze. The blue curtain around Mami's bed was currently pulled closed, but I could sense the other Incubator beyond it, in our room.

"Incubator, it is time for your quota evaluation."

"No."

"Incubator."

"Not now."

"It is time for your quota evaluation."

"Please."

Its silhouette appeared against the curtain. "You must comply."

I stayed where I was, frozen in place with determination and terror. "I will not."

"Why?"

"Because she needs me."

I heard the curtain rings slide against the bar as the evaluator pushed aside the curtain with its head. I turned slightly, watching from my vision's periphery as it stared up at me from the floor. Where I was white, it was periwinkle. "You are speaking nonsense."

"Perhaps I am, to you. But you shouldn't need an evaluation to know I've utterly failed in fulfilling your quota."

"Then you know the consequences."

"Destruction, removal, and replacement." I paused. "May I make a request?"

"You are in no position to make demands."

"It is small, and once fulfilled I will expend no energy resisting you."

"...What is your request?"

"Let me be with her. Until she's... gone."

"Incubator, she is already dead."

I said nothing, watching over Mami's still figure. Her heartrate monitor had already stopped several minutes before the evaluator had appeared.

"You are to come with me."

I stepped down onto the soft bed, moving up to where Mami's head lay against her pillow, and gently rubbed myself against her cheek. "Mami?"

She didn't move or respond. Her skin was growing cold.

"I'm sorry, Mami." I cuddled closer, hoping my proximity might convey my sincerity. "I should have tried harder to save you. I should have been there for you earlier, and more often. Perhaps I should never have even contracted you. You deserved love, and life, and I took too much of it away from you."

I felt myself tremble. Several feelings flitted through me, creating something greater that was made of all of them, but was none of them at all. I felt humility, knowing Mami had given me time, effort, and possessions to do with as my own, and pride that she believed me worthy to receive it. I felt anger, unable to do any more for her than I had. I felt joy, knowing at least I'd given her companionship, given her myself, and she'd given me the same in return. I felt fear, afraid of what might happen now that I no longer had her. I felt bravery, willing to bear whatever pain I had to until I could see her again. It was a true gestalt emotion, unique, world-creating, world-destroying. Entropy felt meaningless in comparison.

"I love you, Mami."

Behind me, I faintly heard the evaluator take the position I had been in a few moments prior, perching on the metallic end of the hospital bed. I looked back at it; it twitched its ears. "Have you anything to add before your verdict?"

I turned back, closing my eyes as I snuggled into Mami again. "You mean my death?"

"Your verdict."

I thought back to when I first embarked on my illogical mission to understand the human condition. I wondered if another Incubator might someday pursue the same path I had, turning away from the sterile, comforting realm of the proven and provable to the exciting and treacherous possibilities of self-identity. Maybe, someday, Incubators might find a way to fight entropy on their own, without harvesting life and emotions from other planets. Maybe, Incubators might discover they are more like humans than they think, and even join together to ensure all life prospers forevermore throughout the cosmos.

Or I'd be nothing more than an anomaly, one more Incubator gone wrong, and my efforts wouldn't change anything at all. But my feelings told me that didn't mean they aren't important.

"My actions speak for themselves."

The evaluator didn't respond. I didn't expect it to. I vaguely sensed it teleporting away, no doubt leaving to disable my bodily copies before dealing with the one containing my consciousness. But I didn't care enough to pay attention anymore. I hadn't rested for a while anyway, and Mami needed company.

I slept, and I dreamed.