Spider Lilies – One Second More

Disclaimer: In case you haven't figured it out yet, I don't own Puella Magi Madoka Magica. All Madoka-related characters, settings, etc. are the intellectual property of Studio SHAFT and Gen Urobuchi.

[-]

Over the past thirty-four days, Homura had been faced by one question more than any other. It was a deceptively simple one, and yet as she searched the halls of Mitakihara Middle School for any sign of Madoka Kaname, it was the one plaguing her every thought.

Did she have any limits?

With her power, interceding in a given situation was no longer a matter of whether she could act, but whether she should. Nothing, ultimately, was beyond her ability to change.

And that, in itself, was a terrifying thought.

Human beings, after all, were defined by their limits. They could be imposed by nature, or society, or even oneself – but any man or woman who claimed to be truly unencumbered in all their decisions was a fool.

Homura, of course, hadn't been "human" for a very long time. But she'd been limited in so many other ways. The limits of the Magical Girl system, constructed between the guardrails of the Incubators' inflexible laws. The limits of her existence as a Magical Girl, forced into the role of huntress merely to remain herself.

And the limits she herself had chosen, in the words she'd used to express her heart's deepest, most desperate Wish.

None of those applied any longer. A thought had but to cross her mind, and it was only her own tenuous willpower that stood in the way of making it reality.

That was why she'd set "rules" for herself, at the beginning of this timeline. She had to. Because there was no one, on any plane of existence, whom she trusted less than herself.

Those rules were complicated, and multitudinous, and occasionally contradictory. And she'd already violated at least half of them. Her resolution not to share even a hint about the existence of magic with Madoka, for example. She had nothing but her own poor impulse control to thank for that blunder.

But that just made her cling all the more tightly to the handful that still remained.

The fact remained that, if she wanted to, she could know where Madoka was right now. She could know where she was at all times.

Once she crossed a line like that, though…Homura knew there was no going back. If her resolve broke once, it could and would shatter again. It'd be far too much temptation for a sane person – and she was self-aware enough to recognize that wasn't a word that'd applied to her for quite some time.

After all, wasn't that what all this had been for? What she'd fought, and bled, and sacrificed so much for, on her sojourns through time and space?

Throughout it all, she'd sought a world in which Madoka Kaname could smile again. As gently and as innocently as the day they'd first met. And despite a few "stumbling blocks" here and there, she'd succeeded. That world was this one.

Every day, Madoka was able to live in quiet, uncomplicated bliss. She and her parents and Tatsuya were together, united as a family, with the worst problem they had to deal with being Junko's drinking habits.

Her relationships with her friends, too, were as good as they'd ever been. With the messiness of their love triangle behind them, Sayaka Miki, Hitomi Shizuki, and Kyosuke Kamijou were all free to provide the care and support Madoka deserved. And that triangle slipped further and further into the past, the closer the blue-haired girl became with Kyoko Sakura.

Only Mami Tomoe remained an outlier – but despite all the mysteries surrounding the older girl in this timeline, that made sense. She and Madoka really had no reason to meet or become friends, in a world outside the Magical Girl system.

None of these were people Homura was especially fond of. She doubted there were any such people these days, outside of Madoka herself.

But Madoka cherished her bonds with them more than life itself. Her happiness would not be complete without theirs.

So Homura would fight for this world. To the bitter end, if need be. And any actions that could threaten Madoka's happiness…were crimes beyond countenance.

Which was all a roundabout way of justifying to herself why she wasn't using her powers to locate the girl this very second. It would be so easy; as effortless as snapping her fingers. But she knew her own follies. She knew she wouldn't stop there.

She'd spy on Madoka at school, at home, during her club activities. Ostensibly to keep an eye on her; protect her from any danger. But really, what was the point in lying inside her own head? Like everything she did, her true motivations would be far more selfish.

Especially given how quickly her subconscious had jumped to peeking on Madoka during her baths.

Homura had already taken so much from the girl she loved. The last vestiges of her privacy wouldn't, couldn't be one of them. Otherwise, would she really be anything more than a bird in a gilded cage?

And no caged bird could be happy, the way she needed Madoka to be.

If Madoka grew to resent this world – worse, if she fell into the despair that'd claimed so many iterations of her untainted soul – then that meant everything Homura had ever done, everything she'd ever fought for, was all for nothing.

It was fine if she hated her, of course. That was reasonable, expected. The things she'd done to make this world a reality were unforgivable.

Just so long as Madoka remained happy, all other things were acceptable. That was the iron truth that undergirded her every last action.

And so, as painful and exhausting and pointless as it was, Homura used nothing more than the skills of an ordinary human girl to conduct her search. No matter how much temptation clawed away at her heart, she held firm.

Which was why she didn't hear Madoka's scream until it was almost too late.

[-]

"Hey, what's the big idea?" demanded Sayaka Miki, as she pulled Madoka alongside herself in a clumsy dodge-roll to escape their assailant's opening strike. It was a very close miss. "Who the hell are you?!"

The brunette didn't answer this with words, but with a snide, knowing smirk. Instead, what she said was, "Nothin' personal, tiny-tits. No clue who either o' ya are."

Then she raised one set of her glowing claws and pointed them straight at Madoka's head, and added, "But Mistress says the best way ta lure out Akemi is ta put this chick in danger. An' what Mistress says, goes."

"Oh, so this is about her. Of fucking course," muttered Sayaka, chancing a single glance back at her best friend. Unsurprisingly, she looked utterly terrified. "Well I'm not letting you near Madoka!"

Their attacker just let out a sigh, and began scraping her claws against each other in apparent irritation.

"I don't think ya get it, girly," she told Sayaka. "Yer not even on the list. Sure, yer a Magical Girl an' all, but that means Mistress doesn't think yer of any use – friend or foe. An' that means…I can do ta ya whatever the hell I want."

"Wait. Magical…what now…?" asked the blue-haired girl, bewildered.

But the other girl seemed to be done with talking. She brought her claws forward and lunged again, slashing wildly. All the while, she was giggling.

Sayaka managed to dodge the first couple of strikes, but only barely – and doing so forced her wildly off-balance. The brunette seemed to be moving faster than was humanly possible, and her attacks were utterly relentless.

Which made it only a matter of time before one met its mark.

Oddly, the first sign of the wound wasn't any kind of pain. Indeed, she barely felt a thing, her body locking up into some kind of strange numbness.

Instead, it was the bloodcurdling scream that escaped from the lips of Madoka Kaname – whom she had, instinctively, shoved out of the way.

The blue-haired girl looked at her petrified friend, lying prone on the ground, and then down at herself. Blood, crimson and thick, streamed down the front of her school uniform, its source a trio of deep gashes across her chest area.

Then, her vision faded to a blur of color and motion, and she fell forward.

The last thing she heard was her best friend's frantic, earsplitting cry.

"Sayakaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

[-]

In a nearby classroom, Suzune Amano stood guard, claymore held aloft over the heads of her captives.

As a result, they were very quiet.

Mind, she couldn't take full credit for that particular fact. Kyoko Sakura, after all, was unconscious, and Nagisa Momoe was even less than that – separated from her Soul Gem, she was little more than a tiny corpse. And as for Mami Tomoe…

Well, puppets didn't tend to move much when their strings weren't being pulled.

Unfortunately, her sword's magic only copied the powers of the Magical Girls it slew, not the knowledge of how to use them. Kagari Hinata had been able to manipulate memories as finely and delicately as a craftswoman weaving silk, whereas her own attempts were far…cruder. It wasn't like there was an instruction manual for this sort of thing, after all.

That was why the blonde girl was in the state she was now – still, silent, staring blankly into space. More robot than Magical Girl.

Rather than reconstructing an entire psyche from scratch, it'd been easier to purge just about everything, and rebuild around one, singular directive: Obey Matsuri.

As far as Suzune was concerned, there really wasn't much else this girl needed to know.

To be sure, she'd occasionally wondered exactly what her cherished friend's endgame was. As bright and kind and positive as Matsuri Hinata was, enslaving other Magical Girls to build an army seemed almost…out of character?

For the fiftieth time that day, Suzune found herself experiencing an agonizing headache. No…No, it wasn't her role to second-guess such things. Surely, Matsuri had a plan. She just wasn't seeing it yet.

Matsuri had never steered her wrong before. She was just a tool to ensure the innocent girl's hands stayed clean.

And tools didn't ask questions.

Of course, tools were also supposed to stay busy. Suzune had never been comfortable idling – or at least she was pretty sure that was the case. Having only been Awakened the day prior, her own memories weren't in much better shape than these poor girls'.

Regardless, she set to work with Kyoko Sakura, the sigil of a violet butterfly glowing in her blade's pommel as she channeled the magic of Kagari Hinata.

Magic she'd never actually obtained in this particular version of reality. Time was a strange thing.

First, she stripped away the girl's most recent memories. Suzune got brief flashes of the images as they dissipated, like a photo album being rapidly flipped through. Since people didn't only remember visually, though, the images were…tinged, perhaps was the best word, with complex impressions of sound and smell and touch.

And, of course…of emotion. The more a memory evoked strong feelings, the closer it was held in one's heart, the more intensely it burned itself into Suzune's own psyche.

She saw…well, to start with, a lot of food. Clearly, this girl felt very strongly about what she tossed into her stomach. Mountains of snacks and fruits and tender meats danced through her mind, like some perverse parade of gluttony.

Suzune couldn't help but let out a grunt of annoyance. Who was this girl trying to fool? Cursed as they were, they had no need to eat.

Not that it would matter very much in a short while.

The next layer peeled back far more quickly. These were memories of school, of lectures half-listened to and homework left unfinished, which she clearly didn't care even slightly about. Suzune dismissed them with a wave of her hand, letting them vanish into the ether.

Then came a barrage of memories that left her stumbling.

There were hundreds, thousands of these, all of them within the previous month – and all of them centered around a single face, framed by aqua-blue hair.

She recognized Sayaka Miki from Matsuri's briefing: another Magical Girl, but one with such low potential that her chances of Awakening on her own were essentially nil. Matsuri had categorically dismissed her as a threat – or of any use as a pawn.

These memories, however, had nothing to do with magic or Witches. She saw the redhead waking up at the crack of dawn to skillfully prepare her roommate's lunches. She saw her intense joy as she and Sayaka Miki engaged in any number of pointless frivolities, from shopping to karaoke to blowing all their pocket change at the arcade.

She saw all the times Kyoko Sakura had thought about acting on the feelings that burned in her heart…and ultimately backed away, terrified of rejection.

She saw the memory that blazed brightest of all, when she'd finally thrown caution to the wind and done it.

For some reason, Suzune found these memories far more difficult to toss away. There was a sincerity to them, an earnestness, that caused her to stay her hand.

The silver-haired girl cursed her own weakness. She'd honed herself into a weapon so very long ago, in the wake of learning the awful truth of what Magical Girls were. In the long term, killing these girls was a mercy. The feelings currently flowing through her mind – feelings so very, very similar to what she herself felt for Matsuri – were doomed to end in despair, regardless.

And yet, she couldn't bring herself to eradicate them with her own hand.

For the moment, utterly ashamed of herself, Suzune pushed those memories "to the side" and dug deeper. Beyond this point were the things even Kyoko Sakura herself couldn't remember – because a certain something had compelled her to forget.

But those memories were still there, just as her powers were. Their enemy had simply placed a lock upon them.

A lock that couldn't be brute-forced without inflicting severe, perhaps irreparable, trauma to the psyche. But since Suzune wasn't planning on leaving anything intact in the end…

"Alright, Kyoko Sakura," she said, her mouth a thin line. "Let's see what you Wished for."

[-]

Meanwhile, outside the school, a grievously injured girl limped forward, clutching at the stump that'd once been her arm.

She had to get there in time. Her visions had tracked Sasa Yuki here, to Mitakihara Middle School. The place where all their enemies were currently gathered.

If she didn't hurry, then that foolish, wicked girl was going to ruin everything. All her careful planning and scheming, the innumerable safeguards she'd enacted to ensure Akemi couldn't track them – all of it would be ruined.

And, even worse…her dearest might be…

She shook her head vigorously, then winced at the pain this caused her bruised neck. She couldn't think that way. She had to trust that the girl she loved would be strong enough to break free of Yuki's tendrils on her own.

The silver-haired girl held her Soul Gem aloft. With her collection of Grief Cubes stolen, she only had enough magic to do one of two things: heal her wounds, or render herself invisible to the students' prying eyes.

She chose the latter without hesitation.

Then she shoved open the school's double doors with her one good shoulder, and continued limping forward.

[-]

Madoka knew she needed to move. But every fiber of her body was frozen in place, unresponsive to her mind's frantic pleas.

"Aw, I made a mess," said the brunette girl, pouting at the blood coating her claws. "Mistress said not ta leave any evidence behind if I could help it. That means…"

And suddenly, like a switch had been flipped, her face contorted into abject rage.

"That means ya bitches made me disobey Mistress!" she shouted, as if that was the worst crime she could possibly imagine. "I'll kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill ya fer that! I'll leave nothin' behind! Then…Then there's no reason she could be mad at me! Yeah, yeah! That's the answer!"

Madoka wasn't really listening, though she probably should've been. But she couldn't keep her eyes from darting back to Sayaka's limp body every few seconds.

She couldn't really be dead – could she? Her best friend couldn't be lying down in a pool of her own blood, looking so incredibly pale…

"Why are you doing this?!" she found herself demanding, still paralyzed upon the floor. A part of her was acutely aware that in this position, she had no way of defending herself. "Y…You need to let me take Sayaka-chan to a doctor! I have to save her!"

"Save her?" said the other girl, repeating it in a mockingly babyish voice. "Yeah, right! She'll bleed out in a minute or two. Think ya'd better focus a little more on yerself, pinky!"

And with that, she thrust her other set of claws forward, crossing the distance between them in a blink of an eye. Madoka flinched back, bracing herself for the searing pain – but it never came.

When she opened her eyes, she saw the weapon had stopped just a few centimeters from her face.

"Almost fergot. Ya ain't my target here tonight," she added, sounding as if she'd really just remembered that fact. "Can't kill ya until I've lured in the big fish. But…that don't mean I can't have a little fun with ya first."

The closest claw drifted forward at an agonizing pace, until it was poking Madoka right in the cheek. Then, with a flick of her wrist, the girl opened a tiny gash in the skin, bringing a few trickles of blood to the surface.

That's when a fist slammed right into her assailant's face, sending her flying the entire length of the room.

"Don't…you dare…" breathed Homura Akemi, seething with unmistakable fury. "Lay a finger on Madoka."

"Ha ha! I knew that'd bring ya outta yer little hidey-hole!" the girl exclaimed triumphantly, despite the fact that she too was now bleeding. Homura's single punch had thrown her back with enough force to dent the wall.

Her raven-haired friend, meanwhile, affixed the other girl with a knowing frown.

"Kirika Kure," she said. "I have no idea how you regained your magic, but I trust Oriko Mikuni can't be too far behind. Still, I'm more concerned with how you've escaped my notice until now."

"Oh, Mistress was very very very very careful!" the girl she'd called "Kirika" replied with a smirk, as she pulled herself back to her feet and resumed a fighting stance. "She's been plannin' this ferever, y'know! Ever since ya set up this Hell on Earth. Hmm…maybe I should share some o' those details with yer li'l 'friend' there?"

Her single visible eye glanced knowingly at the still-frozen Madoka.

"Shut up!" snarled Homura, moving her arm in a chopping motion through the air. As it did, it formed a dozen bolts of purple energy, which streaked toward Kirika like bullets.

The brunette easily dodged the blasts with a complex series of gymnastics, laughing all the while. At least until they turned around in midair, spontaneously doubled in number, and then slammed right into Kirika's back.

Even after all she'd done, the girl's pained screams nearly made Madoka throw up.

"You can't win, Kirika Kure," said Homura, advancing on their attacker with slow, purposeful steps. "Your time-slowing magic won't work on me, and you should realize physical attacks are utterly pointless. Admit your defeat, and I might let you return to a life of merciful ignorance."

But despite the fact that she was now bruised and bleeding on the ground, Kirika was still smirking. "Didn't need ta win," she told Homura, grin now spreading from ear to ear. "Only needed ta distract ya…one second more."

"Homura-chan, watch out!" cried Madoka, a moment too late.

A hand fell upon Homura's shoulder from behind, and its owner spoke with utter glee.

"Homura Akemi…you, who're better than I am. By the power of my Wish, you shall follow my every command."

[-]

"Make it stop…" moaned Suzune, rolling around on the floor in agony. "Please, just stop…"

It'd been hard enough just absorbing Mami Tomoe's memories – not only seeing but feeling her approach the doors of death, before being rescued by Kyubey. Experiencing her years of abject loneliness, toiling away at a mission she could no longer remember. Sharing in the daily struggle of trying to reconcile what in her mind was true…and what was a carefully crafted lie.

Still, that'd been nothing compared to what was waiting within the depths of Kyoko Sakura's psyche. She'd brushed up against it earlier, to trigger the girl's dormant illusion powers, but that'd been "surface" contact only. She wasn't even sure what she'd caused the girl to see.

But if it was anything like the images flashing through her mind now

"I'll make it all right, you'll see," said Joji Sakura, as he spread around the kerosene. His family would've responded, but they'd all been drugged with pills in that night's dinner.

Kyoko glared up from the floor where she'd collapsed, trying to affix her father with a burning look. But it didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore.

"Anzu. Momo. And especially you, Kyoko," he continued. Now he held a kitchen knife aloft, its blade gleaming in the light of the fire he'd just set. "I want you to know…this isn't your fault. It's mine. You wouldn't have been corrupted if I hadn't been so weak."

"D…Dad…" mumbled Kyoko, through the haze. She was the only one still conscious. "P…Please…don't…"

But she was too late. The knife sank into the back of her mother's neck. Because she always kept them in pristine condition – even when they hadn't had any food to cut – it went in remarkably cleanly.

Her father looked down upon his wife for several moments, without saying anything. Perhaps in his head, he was silently praying.

Regardless, still without speaking, he grasped the blade by the handle and pulled. It took some doing, but it came right back out, coated with a sickening mixture of her mother's blood, flesh, and sinew.

Then, before Kyoko could do more than bring hot, sticky tears to her face, he plunged it into Momo's neck as well.

"I…need to move more quickly," he said, eyes firmly set upon the rising flames. Those eyes, which'd so often been filled with faith and conviction, now looked utterly lost. "I don't want any of you to suffer."

Then he raised the knife one last time.

Without realizing it, Suzune had begun crying those very same tears. Normally she flipped through memories so quickly that they were only brief snatches of sensation, but this one…

The silver-haired girl mustered all her strength, wailed at the top of her lungs, and forced the memory to vanish – just as so many others already had.

No matter how intense, it was still just a memory.

Even though her body no longer required oxygen, Suzune took several deep, calming breaths, until the sensations faded to a dull murmur.

"I need to get back to work," she told herself, once her voice was stable again. "No matter how much it hurts, I can't fail Matsuri. I can't."

But once her vision managed to readjust to the dark room, she realized something rather alarming.

Nagisa Momoe was missing.

[-]

Sasa Yuki pumped her fist and jumped into the air, giggling jovially at her hard-won victory.

"I did it! I finally did it!" she exclaimed. "I don't even care if I have to give up Amane to take her. Akemi's the biggest prize on the whole goddamn board."

She leaned in close, so her cheek could nuzzle against her prey's.

"Physical contact with someone stronger than me. That's all I need to activate my powers," Sasa continued on. She couldn't resist the opportunity to bask in her triumph. "But sneaking up on someone like you? Impossible, I thought! Except…no matter how much power you have, you've got the same weaknesses as any of these other useless worms. And so I played you like a fucking fiddle."

She strode around Homura in a slow, leisurely circle, without removing her hand from the other girl's shoulder. Finally, they stood face to face – or as close to it as they could, since Homura had at least one head over her.

"Now, for my first order…" she said, a mad leer spreading across her face. "I want you, oh mighty Homura Akemi, to bow to me. Bow before your true queen: Sasa Yuki!"

That leer only grew wider as she witnessed the stoic girl begin to sink to her knees. For a moment, she was on top of the world.

Then Homura sank a magic-infused fist right into her gut.

The pain was far beyond what an ordinary punch should've felt like. Every nerve ending was on fire, radiating out from the point of impact and seeming to grow with intensity with every passing second. It was enough pain that any human would've passed out instantly – and even for a Magical Girl like her, it was a very near miss.

Once the initial shock had faded, Sasa looked down and immediately spotted the reason for her utter agony. Even though Homura's fist had connected with her stomach, that hadn't been her target.

Instead, she'd been aiming for the Soul Gem that dangled, in ring form, from her necklace. Miraculously, it appeared completely undamaged.

"Know that I could have shattered you in an instant, if I felt like it," declared Homura, her voice low and dangerous. "I'm giving you one chance to back down."

But Sasa wasn't having any of that. She stomped her feet and ground her teeth in frustration.

"No, no, no!" she wailed. "How'd you escape my control? How?!"

Homura just crossed her arms, looking bored. "I doubt your magic would've done a thing to me, even if you did manage to catch me unawares," she said. "Of course, I've known about you for weeks. You probably should've taken some precautions. This one's an absolute idiot, and even she didn't use her real name while gloating."

She gestured toward the injured Kirika, who was so consumed by rage that it radiated off her like heat – but not because of the insult.

"Ya…Ya hurt Mistress…" she growled, sounding more like a wild beast than a teenage girl. "I'll kill ya!"

Despite how thoroughly Homura had already beaten her, the brunette managed to return to her feet by sheer willpower. With a guttural snarl, both sets of claws extended to double their original length.

"You've truly fallen since the last time I saw you, Sasa Yuki," Homura told her enemy, more or less ignoring Kirika's imminent threat. "Relying on a pawn like this one to do your dirty work. Unless…no, hold on."

She cupped her chin between the fingers on one hand, gears turning within her mind.

"You mentioned Amane earlier. Suzune Amane," she realized aloud. "She must be your puppet in this time flow. Meaning you aren't controlling Kirika Kure directly. You simply modified her perception of reality…so that she sees you as Oriko Mikuni."

"Wh…What're ya talkin' about?" demanded Kirika, sparks flying as she scraped her claws together in irritation. "That's Mistress, right there! It's gotta be!"

Sasa, who'd watched this exchange with increasing panic, let out a sigh of relief.

"Of course I am, darling," she said, batting her eyelashes toward the claw-wielding girl. "Now be a good girl, and slice this bitch to fucking pieces!"

"You need to see through her lies, Kirika Kure," Homura cut in, before Kirika could respond. "If you love Oriko Mikuni as deeply as you've always professed…then you should be able to spot this forgery for what she is."

Sasa, meanwhile, just rolled her eyes. No matter how much of an upper hand her adversary might think she had, this was a fool's endeavor.

As she'd already noted, this Kure girl was an abject idiot. Fit only to serve. There was no chance whatsoever of her realizing the deception.

Which is why it came as such a shock when the brunette suddenly spoke, "Darlin'…ya called me darlin'…"

Sasa's eyebrow twitched. "And…what exactly is the problem there?" she asked, struggling to maintain her sugary sweet falsetto.

"Mistress calls me 'dearest.' Always always dearest!" shouted Kirika. "Never never never never never never ever darlin'! Which…Which means…"

The short girl took a few steps back. "I…well…look, someone can have more than one pet name, okay?" she stammered, trying to hold the frustration bubbling up from her stomach at bay. After everything that'd transpired, was she really about to be undone by something this stupid? "Isn't that right, darl…err, I mean, dear…uh…oh, screw it already!"

With that, she kicked open the door behind her and called out into the hallway, "Hey! Get off your lazy asses and protect your queen!"

A few seconds passed without anything happening. Then, another of the classroom's walls exploded.

"You know, you could've just used the door," said Sasa, though her smug grin had returned in full force.

[-]

Throughout all this, Madoka had been kneeling by Sayaka's body, desperately trying everything she could to keep her best friend alive.

In the absence of any other piece of cloth, she'd removed the top of her own uniform to press against the wound, in an attempt to stem the bleeding. It was dreadfully embarrassing, being clad only in her bra and skirt, but there were far more important things right now than her own discomfort.

That uniform was already soaked thoroughly with Sayaka's blood, but she was too terrified of what she might see if she removed it to switch it for something else.

She just kept pressing down as hard as she could, hoping against hope that it might buy her a few more precious minutes.

With nothing else to do except weep over her dying friend, Madoka had listened on as Homura exchanged words with the two other girls. Of course, she'd understood almost none of it.

The upshot seemed to be that the others had powers, just as Homura did – and that the raven-haired girl wasn't on friendly terms with either one. Beyond that, Madoka was clueless.

And that became all the more pronounced when a section of the wall directly behind her crumbled to dust, and two more girls stepped through.

The first was a stranger to Madoka; a silver-haired girl with reddish-orange eyes. Like their two attackers, she was wearing some sort of costume, though hers seemed far…scanter than most, large enough only to cover her breasts and "private areas." A gray and white overcoat kept her from being completely indecent. Around her neck hung a pendant shaped like a Christian cross, while some sort of charm was tied into her long hair, though Madoka couldn't see it clearly from this angle.

She also happened to be carrying a sword engulfed in purplish energy, which looked large enough to carve an elephant in two.

The second girl took far less time to identify – though the sight of her still caused Madoka to let out a sharp gasp. Despite the strange clothing, and the eerily vacant expression in her golden eyes…

It was unmistakably Mami-sempai.

"Be good darlings and kill everyone in this room, will you?" said the girl Homura had called Sasa, putting such emphasis on the word that it could only be a petty power play. She already had one foot out of the classroom. "Kure's already proven how useless she is, so I doubt she's worth mind-whammying any further. Anyway, meet me at the usual spot if you happen to survive. Toodles!"

And with that, the diminutive girl ran off, cackling all the while. Homura seemed poised to chase after her, but the swordswoman blocked her path.

"Not another step," she muttered, holding her claymore at the ready. Energy emanated from the blade and swirled around her. "I may not be a match for you, Homura Akemi…but I can at least hold you off."

"Suzune Amano," replied Homura, looking at the girl appraisingly. "We've never met directly, but I know your story. This isn't the first time you've been manipulated into serving as someone else's tool."

"I have no regrets about being a tool, if it's for Matsuri's sake," Suzune told her. "You won't touch her."

"Matsuri's…oh, does that wretched girl have any other tricks?" Homura asked herself with a frustrated groan. She looked back into the other girl's intense eyes. "I'd try to talk you down, but if you're the one she's controlling directly then I don't see much point. No doubt she's included a command for you to ignore any evidence that contradicts her false identity…even if she couldn't be acting more differently from Matsuri Hinata if she tried."

As this was going on, Madoka's eyes were on Mami, who was standing still as a statue. Then, without saying anything, a long yellow ribbon flowed out of her sleeve and floated above her head, twisting and compressing into a new shape…

Until an old-fashioned musket fell into her dainty hands.

By the time Madoka managed to scream out another warning, Mami had already taken aim and squeezed the trigger.

The bottom fell out of Madoka's stomach for just a single moment – because in the next, with just a flick of her wrist, Homura caught the bullet between two fingers.

"This is growing…irritating," she said with a frown. "Mami Tomoe, if you were possessed of your mental faculties right now, you might actually pose a credible threat. As it is, perhaps it's best I demonstrate for Sasa Yuki…precisely how much she's underestimated the dangers of being my adversary."

Before Madoka could blink, Homura was right up in Mami's face, slamming her into the ground with nothing more than a single palm. Shards of tile were knocked loose from the impact.

"I must…kill…" gasped out the blonde, her words stilted, almost robotic. "Have to…obey…the Voice of God…"

More ribbons flowed from her costume, coming out of every seam and crevice, but before they could do any more than flex and rear back like overlong snakes, Homura waved her hand through the air. And suddenly, the ribbons just…crumbled. All that was left was a cloud of golden dust, which fell upon Mami's prone form.

Before she could mount another attack, Homura placed a foot on their upperclassman's chest. "Stay down," she ordered. "Don't force me to take drastic measures."

"Don't force me, either," Suzune interjected. Madoka's eyes went wide with panic, as she felt the girl's sword fall down against her neck.

For the first time since the battle began, Madoka thought she could see a trace of fear pass through her friend's eyes.

"I hope you're aware that there's no way this ends well for you," said Homura, turning to the silver-haired girl even as she kept Mami pinned with her heel. "I assure you that if a single hair on Madoka's head is harmed, in any way, the consequences will be far beyond anything you can imagine."

"I think you misunderstand me. I'm not threatening to use my blade to hurt this girl," responded Suzune. "I'll use it to restore her memories."

[-]

Amidst all this chaos, no one – absent Homura, who had far bigger concerns on her mind – noticed Kirika being pulled quietly from the room.

Mind, this was partly because the hand doing the pulling was rendered invisible to anyone whose sight was limited to physical eyes. Beaten and exhausted from her all-too-brief battle with Homura Akemi, the brunette girl would've had a hard time resisting anyone whose grip was so tight. But that wasn't the main reason she was allowing herself to be led out of that ruined classroom.

It was because she recognized that hand, even if she couldn't actually see it. And it was one she'd follow to the ends of the Earth and back.

The invisible person moved at a pace that was at once harried and halting, as if their body couldn't go quite as fast as their mind wanted it to. They went down several corridors, all of them thankfully unoccupied, in a rush to get as far away from the battle as possible.

Finally, her guide stopped in front of a girl's bathroom and pushed it open. A "CLOSED FOR CLEANING" sign had already been posted on it.

"Thank heavens. I wasn't sure we'd make it this far," said her savior. "I can finally dispel this bothersome enchantment. It eats up mana like nobody's business."

The first thing Kirika felt when the invisible veil fell away, and the face she'd been expecting came into view, was utter elation. It was what she felt every time she saw her Mistress, of course, but this was different. Staring at the real thing, how could she have ever fallen for a fake?

Her second reaction, however, was a feeling of sinking, abject horror. No matter how beautiful her Mistress was – and to be clear, she was the prettiest and sexiest girl who'd ever walked the planet – there was no question she was in bad shape.

Her face was bloodied and bruised, with one eye swollen and leaking pus. She was moving with a pronounced limp, thanks to a bad gash on her left leg, and her abdomen looked like several ribs had cracked. And worst of all…

Tears leaked from Kirika's eyes, dampening her patch. Her Mistress' right arm was gone. In its place was a bloody, bandaged stump, the wrappings clearly applied hurriedly and haphazardly.

"M…Mistress…" said Kirika, in a voice that sounded like it could break at any moment. "This…This is all my fault. Fer bein' tricked…"

But the silver-haired girl placed a swollen finger over her partner's lips.

"Shhhhhh…" she whispered, now delicately stroking the surrounding skin. "You did nothing wrong, my dearest. That heartless girl took advantage of your loyalty to me. Something for which you should feel no shame."

Kirika went stiff as a board, feeling an intense sensation of wrongness climb up her spine. The worst possible thing had just happened.

She'd failed…miserably. Her Mistress had been the one to pay for that failure. And yet, in her infinite kindness and generosity, she'd chosen…to forgive her.

"No. No no no no no no no…" murmured Kirika, shrinking back and clutching at herself. "I need ta be punished, Mistress. An'…An' not like when we're havin' fun. I need ta suffer, the way you suffered."

There was only one choice. It was obvious, now that she thought of it. She summoned the claws to her left hand, and raised them to the shoulder on her right.

"Kirika, stop!" her Mistress commanded, just before she could slice down.

Her hand stopped in midair. Not only because her lover's voice was so much more forceful and decisive than usual…

But because that was the first time in over a month that she'd used her real name.

Her Mistress sighed, and pulled her into an awkward, one-harmed hug. Kirika melted into it nevertheless.

"First of all, you might as well go back to calling me Oriko," she said. "This mess has left our cover in tatters. So much for precautions and contingencies."

Naturally, this news only made her partner feel worse. When she saw this, Oriko cupped her cheeks with both hands, placing her lips mere centimeters from Kirika's own.

"I told you, Kirika. This is Sasa Yuki's fault, not yours," she went on, her tones tender and her touches gentle. "But if you truly feel you need to atone…then do as you've always done. Be my sword, and my shield. I will need you more than ever in the days ahead. Especially with the end of the month approaching so swiftly."

She followed the words with a brief, but affectionate kiss.

"My…My Oriko…" Kirika gasped out, between spasms of pleasure. Any contact with her beloved Mistress was liable to leave her weak at the knees. "Ya'd really…trus' me again? After I fucked up so bad?"

"My dearest Kirika. You're the only one I know I can trust," answered the silver-haired girl. "But after today, Akemi will be watching our moves like a hawk. She'd be a fool not to. So we need to move quickly."

Kirika nodded immediately. "O' course, o' course. Ya got it," she said, though her enthusiasm was belied by the tooth chewing against her lip. "But…shouldn't we get ya some help first?"

Her lover waved off the question, though it was acutely conspicuous that she was doing so with her only remaining hand.

"I can heal most of this once I recharge my magic. Though the arm may be a lost cause," explained Oriko. "For that, we need more Grief Cubes – and in a world without Wraiths, we can't harvest more. Sasa Yuki made off with our entire stock, which means we'll need to be more…creative. That's where our new ally comes in."

She rapped her knuckles against the door of a nearby stall, and added, "You can come out now, Nagisa-chan."

A moment later, the door unlatched, and a very small girl emerged before them. She couldn't have been older than eight or nine.

"You heard everything we just said, right?" asked Oriko, her voice just a little bit higher than normal. Unlike Sasa Yuki, most of the sweetness in her tone was natural, but Kirika could tell just how much of it was effected. "Are you ready to punish those mean girls who took your big sis away from you?"

The girl tugged on her long, stark-white hair, and didn't meet their eyes. Her own were very strange, with orange rims surrounding yellow irises.

Ultimately, though, she gave a couple quiet nods. "If it means I can save Onee-san…" she said, in a voice that was just as tiny. "Then I'll do anything."

[-]

Homura Akemi and Suzune Amano stood at an impasse, both glaring unblinkingly at the other.

"You know that there're at least ten ways I could kill you in the next half-second, if I chose," Homura remarked, in the same way other people might talk about their options for dinner.

"Oh, I'm well aware I stand no chance against you in a direct confrontation," replied Suzune. "But in the time it'll take you to reach me, I can send a single 'jolt' through this poor girl's psyche. Since I won't have time to direct it, the magic could really do anything. Maybe it'll have no effect. Or…maybe it'll brute-force itself through all the locks shackling her mind. Maybe she'll remember everything."

The silver-haired girl tightened her grip on the blade. "I can tell you think I'm bluffing," she added, narrowing her eyes. "But are you willing to call me on it?"

There was a lengthy period of silence, as both of the superpowered girls stared down the other. It reminded Madoka of a showdown, from those Hollywood Westerns her mother liked so much.

The only question was who would "draw" first.

Finally, Homura said, "What is it that you want?"

"Safe passage from this place. I'm not arrogant enough to ask for more than that," answered Suzune promptly. "Oh, and I'm taking Tomoe and Sakura with me."

Sakura? Madoka glanced around wildly, and for the first time looked properly through the hole the girls had blasted from the adjacent classroom. Lying on the floor, apparently unconscious…was indeed Kyoko Sakura.

"No, you won't. They're staying," snapped Homura, forcing Madoka's eyes back to the confrontation. The sheer vehemence in her voice was somewhat surprising; she knew Homura wasn't immensely fond of either girl.

But it seemed kidnapping by a hostile swordswoman was a step too far, even for her.

"With the states their minds are in right now? I don't think that's a very good idea," Suzune told her. "I've wiped away just about all of Mami Tomoe's memories. And I'm halfway through doing the same to Kyoko Sakura."

"Let me worry about that," said Homura. "And as for you? I'll be generous…and offer a ten-minute head start."

Suzune gritted her teeth in indignation, but the look in her eyes made it clear she was considering this seriously.

Then, still without breaking eye contact, she asked, "Will you Bind yourself to that? Ten minutes without pursuit, or tracking? For myself and Matsuri?"

"For the person you call Matsuri Hinata, yes," responded Homura, who now looked just as irate as her opponent. Madoka got the vague sense Suzune's demands contained a double meaning she wasn't getting. "So long as you release Madoka, and Bind yourself in turn not to use magic upon her, now or at any future time…"

Homura lowered her arm, and instantaneously, the atmosphere in the room grew noticeably calmer. Madoka realized she must've been gathering power this entire time.

"Then you have yourself a Contract."

[-]

Some distance away, Sasa Yuki lay across a park bench, her feet kicked up and drumming against the slats in off-beat rhythm.

She was not very happy right now.

"Why the fuck didn't you warn me that my magic wouldn't work on her?" she demanded, apparently to the empty air.

The other participant in the conversation didn't "say" anything in return, since they were communicating telepathically. Strictly speaking, there wasn't any reason for Sasa to vocalize her half of the dialogue, either, but she was too mad to care.

"Well…yeah, okay, fine. I guess that's a good point," she said, after a little while. "The hell am I supposed to do now, though? I blew all my goddamn resources on this stupid fight, and we got our asses served to us with a side of miso."

Another period of silence, this one much longer. Sasa had to occupy herself by making nasty faces and tossing pebbles at nearby grade-schoolers to scare them away, as she listened to the voice in her head drone on and on.

Eventually, however, the voice offered a suggestion that brought her signature, obnoxiously cruel smirk back to her face.

That was the moment a certain individual emerged from the nearby bushes, moving with the stealth and swiftness of a ninja.

"Matsuri, I'm so sorry for failing you," murmured Suzune Amano, her head hung low as she dissipated her Magical Girl form. "All I could buy us was a small window of reprieve. And gaining it cost me any chance of using Madoka Kaname as leverage in the future."

"Pffffft. Sure, today was a fuck-up, but it was small potatoes. Don't worry about it, girl," Sasa told her servant, sounding remarkably at ease for someone who'd been throwing a temper tantrum only a few minutes prior. "Our mysterious…benefactor just gave us a hot tip. One we're gonna be jumping on like flies on shit."

"I…I'm glad to hear it," said Suzune. "But I only bought us ten minutes, and it took three of them to get here. If we're moving, then we need to move n…"

But Sasa silenced her the quickest way she knew how – with a deep and forceful kiss. For good measure, she also snaked a hand underneath the other girl's shirt.

"Hush now," she cooed, a predatory leer upon her face as she pulled back just a few centimeters, holding Suzune's gaze all the while. Despite the difference in their heights, there was no question who was currently in control. "Let your darling Matsuri worry about all those awful nasty things. See, do you know where we went wrong today?"

"I…I mean, I didn't…" stammered Suzune, blushing furiously as the hand worked its way beneath her bra.

"Oh no, that's the thing! It's nothing you did!" exclaimed Sasa, cutting her off. "We simply went in too soon. I thought four girls – if you count that moron Kure – would be enough to take down Akemi. I underestimated her. She's not going to fall to any single team, no matter how powerful. If we want to topple her from her throne…we need an army."

She paused a moment to giggle, a maniacal and discordant sound.

"And it just so happens…now I know where I can start building one," she continued on, still mauling at the other girl's body. The sense of control it gave her, especially after her earlier failure, was exhilarating. "So pack your bags, my sweet Suzune. We're going to Asunaro City."

[-]

As the only other able-bodied girl in the room, Madoka had been conscripted by Homura into helping her clean up.

Of course, she'd been reluctant to leave Sayaka's side for even a moment, given the condition she was in. She only relented when Homura forcibly pulled her aside and yanked away the bloodstained blouse.

Only to reveal that beneath it, Sayaka's wounds had completely closed up.

"Her magic is healing. It must've activated subconsciously to save her life," said Homura.

Madoka's mouth fell open, her brain briefly short-circuiting at all this implied. "Then…Then you mean…" she gasped. "Sayaka was…"

"We don't have time for this Madoka," the raven-haired girl interrupted her. "We need to move these three someplace safe, before we attract unwanted attention."

Throughout all this, Homura had been steadfastly avoiding eye contact, and her face was very red. It took Madoka a few moments to realize she was still half-naked, at which point her own cheeks turned the very same shade.

Trying to ignore how unbelievably embarrassing this was now that the action had died down, Madoka buried herself in following her friend's instructions. They worked together to drag all three girls – Sayaka and Mami-sempai in this room, and Kyoko in the other – toward the hole Kirika had made in the wall, leading outside.

Mami was the only one still conscious, though barely; still mumbling about "obeying the Voice of God" as she lay recovering from Homura's last attack. To simplify things, Homura passed a palm coated with purple energy over her face, and the blonde became still.

Once they were all more-or-less in a single pile, Homura coated the trio in that same violet light, and like one of those espers in fantasy anime, floated them to the ground below. They were five floors up, and yet she did it as effortlessly as if she was grabbing food from the top shelf.

Finally, with the three girls deposited safely on the grass, Homura came back for Madoka herself. Rather than use her powers, though, she swept the pink-haired girl into her arms, with one going beneath her legs and the other supporting her back.

Madoka tried not to think how much this resembled a groom carrying a bride.

After dropping Madoka off, the raven-haired girl disappeared for several moments. When she returned, she was carrying the top of a boy's uniform. Madoka avoided asking where she might've gotten it from, too grateful for the chance to cover herself up. She wrapped the jacket around herself, and attempted to ignore the fact that it fit perfectly over her figure.

(Or lack thereof.)

It was only after Madoka was fully buttoned up that Homura allowed herself to collapse against a nearby tree, her eyes fluttering closed. She was clearly exhausted.

But Madoka couldn't wait any longer to address what'd just happened.

"Homura-chan…" she said, her voice catching slightly. "I…I don't even know where to begin…"

The other girl, however, cut her off – by clasping her hand between both of her own.

"Madoka, I'm sure you have a million questions. And you deserve answers to them," she murmured. Her voice seemed…unaccountably sad. "But there's so much I…I can't tell you. And that's my fault, not yours. My burden…not yours."

The pink-haired girl thought quite a lot about what she was going to say to this. In the face of all she'd just seen, all she'd just heard. Secrets those girls had hinted Homura was keeping.

Secrets they'd made fairly clear were about her.

But the response she ended up giving was, "Okay."

"O…Okay…?" repeated Homura, blinking away tears that'd begun to form in her indigo eyes. Her tone was one of utter disbelief.

"I know you're hiding things from me. Big things. If that girl with the sword was telling the truth…then you've even been messing with my mind," said Madoka. "I should probably be furious with you. But…I'm not. Because I trust you, Homura-chan. Because I think I trust you more than I've ever trusted anyone."

"Madoka…" Homura breathed out, looking askance.

And there it was. In that moment, something changed. Madoka was overcome by an impulse that was stupid, and foolish, and made absolutely no logical sense.

An impulse that she, nevertheless, had no power to refuse.

"Homura-chan…this is probably the worst time ever for this. I don't even know why I'm saying this to you. Except that I don't think I can keep it inside one second more," she rambled. "Maybe it's because…you just saved my life. Saved our lives. And that's only made me surer of how I feel."

"What're you talking about, Madoka?" asked Homura. The words came out incredibly quiet.

For just a moment – well, honestly, it was quite a few moments – Madoka considered backing out. She hadn't yet said anything she couldn't take back, and any lingering weirdness could be blamed on their near-death experience. She could still salvage their friendship, just as it was.

But…was she even capable of holding onto such a thing, anymore? She thought back to the words of encouragement her father had offered her. Those of Doctor Tenjou, and even Sayaka.

Right now, she felt like she was standing on the edge of a cliff, looking down uinto an endless abyss. Maybe the smartest move would be to back away, and pretend as if she'd never seen it.

And yet she knew deep-down that if she did, she'd spend every last moment of her life second-guessing the decision. Once that abyss entered her mind, it was impossible to make it go away. It would haunt her to her dying breath.

It was no longer a question of whether it was a good idea to confess what was in her heart.

It was simply that she couldn't live with herself any longer if she didn't.

Madoka sucked in a great deal of air, and then took the final step. Plunging headfirst into the abyss below.

"This…" she said, and for the first time in a while, her voice was no longer shaking. "Is how I really feel."

Then she leaned over, and kissed Homura Akemi on the lips.

[-]

Several moments passed before Homura's brain caught up enough to entertain a single coherent thought.

Albeit, that thought amounted to little more than a giant, red "!" symbol.

Her mind simply lacked any frame of reference to contextualize what'd just happened.

Madoka had kissed her.

Madoka had kissed her.

Madoka had kissed her.

Such a thing was so utterly laughable, that the most diligent planner in all of time and space had never even considered a contingency for it. What would be the point?

Sure, images not entirely unlike this one might've occasionally flitted through her mind…late at night (though in those cases, it was rare the images stopped at kissing). But that was just harmless fantasizing.

Well…mostly harmless.

The point was, this simply wasn't a thing that happened in reality. Magic and monsters? Sure. Aliens preying upon innocent girls? Of course. Traversing space and time? At this point, it was as natural to her as walking to the corner store.

But across nearly a hundred time flows, thousands of repeated days and nights, this was a moment utterly without precedence. There was a natural order to these things: she was the one meant to love Madoka from afar, holdings those feelings tight to her chest, knowing they could never be realized. That they were doomed simply by the nature of who each of them were.

Sure, this timeline had been a conscious effort to break that cycle – but only in some ways. The crimes she'd had to commit in order to realize it were beyond countenance.

Beyond forgiveness.

She knew how this was supposed to go. No matter how long she tried to put it off, eventually, Madoka would realize the truth. It was inevitable. The girl she loved was a bit naïve, sure, but she wasn't stupid.

And at that point, the only logical response on Madoka's part would be to regard her with hatred. Homura knew that would hurt, of course. But then…she deserved to hurt, to suffer for her innumerable sins, so that worked out just fine.

So long as Madoka could then move on – to live a long and happy life, in the arms of her friends and family – it'd all be worth it in the end.

But while she'd expected hatred, or at best indifference; made her peace with what was to come, once Madoka learned what a monster she truly was…

This was the one thing she never could've expected.

The one thing she could never accept.

Tears filling her eyes, Homura pulled away.

"H…Homura-chan…?" said Madoka, her lip quivering. The sudden, uncharacteristic burst of self-assurance had faded as quickly as it came. "Was…Was it that bad? I mean…I know I didn't ask for your permission, or anything…god I'm an idiot…"

"Madoka, it…it isn't that…" Homura struggled to respond, but the words wouldn't come. They couldn't.

She wouldn't be able to control herself for much longer. She was about to explode.

"Homura-chan!" Madoka cried out, stretching out an arm for her as she fled at breakneck speed.

But by that time, she was already gone. To a place Madoka couldn't possibly reach.

[-]

Homura Akemi sat in the midst of a vast clearing, her legs pulled up and clutched tightly to her chest.

Her wings drooped across the ground, barely able even to lift themselves – much less her entire body.

Here, of course, she cast no illusion. This was a world of her own making, after all. A small pocket of space and time where, for the briefest of moments, she didn't have to pretend to be anything but what she was.

From the ever-present darkness of the storm clouds above, always on the verge of but never quite releasing their torrents of rain, to the thousands of blood-red spider lilies that stretched beneath her, as far as the eye could see…

This was Hell. The only refuge that the Devil deserved.

For several minutes now – to the degree a concept like "minutes" even existed in a place like this – a small, mewling sound had been accompanied by light tugs on her silken hair. Losing patience, she rounded on the offender.

One of her innumerable Clara Dolls was looking up at her expectantly. Awaiting orders.

Since she'd commanded her Familiars to stay away from Madoka, they'd obeyed unquestioningly; they were, after all, incapable of doing otherwise. Here, then, was the only place they could still beseech their Mother.

They couldn't speak, at least in the human tongue, but of course Homura – as the source of their Curse – could understand the Doll's chatter perfectly.

It was bidding her to follow, and she did.

She knew, before she arrived, exactly what she would find. There were very few beings, across all of reality, who could even exist on such a plane.

Homura looked down, without pity, at the writhing form of an Incubator.

HO…MU…RA…

A…KEM…I…

It was the very same voice – sweet, cute, almost disarmingly so – that had spoken so many honeyed but twisted words in the past. That'd haunted her nightmares with its cold, clinical precision.

Except that, despite its inability to convey emotional tone, one thing was very clear about the creature now.

That it was in terrifying agony.

"Don't look at me like that," said Homura sharply. She felt nothing inside for this monster – the callous manipulator and ruiner of countless girls' lives, since the very beginning of the human race. "You brought this on yourself. This is just a taste of what you've spent several million years inflicting on us."

The Incubator looked up at her, its fur frazzled and mangy. At first glance, its eyes were as blank and expressionless as always.

But if one looked more carefully, they could see that the creature's pupils were no longer a solid, static black. Instead, they swam with the barest hints of a thousand other colors.

Of all the possible shades a Magical Girl's despair could take.

This'd been the only way to remove Madoka from the Law of Cycles, without negating her original Wish. It was impossible for Witches to exist in this world – and just as impossible for the Wraiths that should've been their substitutes. But all that accumulated despair still had to go somewhere.

Using the Incubators as a "pressure valve" for the system killed two birds with one stone.

"Now, what is it that you want?" she demanded, glaring at the creature testily. "Even in this state, you never do anything without a reason. So why go through the effort to call me here?"

WHY…DID…YOU…

RUN…A…WAY…FROM…

MA…DO…KA…

KA…NA…ME…?

Homura lifted a black-heeled foot, and drove it sharply into the Incubator's back.

"I've told you before," she said, through gritted teeth. "You don't even mention her name! You no longer have the right!"

BUT…

WE…DO…NOT…

UN…DER…STAND…

WAS…SHE…NOT…

YOUR…GREAT…EST…

HOPE…?

"I…I don't have to explain a thing to you!" roared the Devil, aiming a kick at the wretched thing. It flew a great distance, landing square in the midst of a grove of lilies.

And yet, she couldn't stop her tongue from unloading a veritable tidal wave. The floodgates around her heart, already full to bursting, had crumbled completely.

"She can't, okay!" she shouted, tears streaming madly down her face. "She…can't…love me! Don't you see? I don't deserve it!"

She began slashing wildly through the air, barely able to see through the dampness in her clouded eyes. With every movement of her arms, rumbling energy coursed through the air, causing another cluster of flowers to wither and die.

"I lied!"

"I cheated!"

"I hurt every single person she loves!"

"I'm a demon!"

Homura was clutching desperately at herself now, clawing at her arms with each gloved finger. Streaks of blood – no longer crimson, but the deep violet of her magic – appeared whenever she made a mark, but healed over a second later.

"This…This isn't working…" she murmured, the fervor in her tones dying away completely as she collapsed to her knees. Her wings curled about herself like a shield. "I made this world so Madoka could have a happy, normal life. And it's all going wrong."

THEN…WHAT…

WILL…YOU…DO…NEXT…

HO…MU…RA…

A…KEM…I…?

"I…don't know," Homura admitted, her voice barely above a whisper now. "But I'm running out of time to figure that out."

And with that, her form as the Devil of this realm – as the embodiment of that which was warmer than hope, and deeper than despair – faded away. Prepared, if not exactly ready, to resume the fiction that she was but an ordinary girl, dwelling amidst the world above.

Instead of its architect.

In her haste to leave, she didn't hear the very last words the Incubator spoke.

IN…DEED…

HO…MU…RA…

A…KEM…I…

If one were to look into the creature's eyes at that point, the very slightest of changes might've been visible. There was a gleam of something there beyond despair – though a moment later, it'd faded from view once more.

AF…TER…ALL…

BUT…THREE…DAYS…

RE…MAIN…

UN…TIL…

THE…NIGHT…OF…

WAL…

PUR…

GIS…

[-]

The story will continue in…

Puella Magi Madoka Magica

"Les Fleurs du Mal"