(this fic lives)

-x-

There was nothing, only silence. The demons had not sent anything before the main force, nothing like the small advance fleet that the Armada had encountered at the fringes of Lyudian space. But there was no calm before the storm. Battles already raged in the hearts and minds of every single mahou shoujo defender, as grief cube supplies ran low, the enemy drew near, and the Goddess seemed a distant, useless thing. They had shuffled around defenses for some time, and then Maria had put them all on stand-by. They had been waiting for hours. Akira had been doing Hearth work the last time she had seen her.

It would be simple, Diana thought. I can carry her. The demons won't chase us. We'll fly away and never come back.

She looked up at the sky and wondered what Yoshio was thinking right now. The feeling of disgust that followed contemplations of desertion was so familiar that Diana didn't even bother going through the reasons why she was disgusted at herself again. It was habit at this point. She only wondered if Yoshio wasn't thinking the same things, if he was a good soldier of the Hierocracy, or if he was weak like her.

Akira was far away, and Diana was very tired. On one side of her was death and on the other was dishonor. The only thing left to do was to march on forwards. Maybe then, they would all make it out alive. The lost magical girls, May amongst them, could be found. It was a slim chance, but right now the magical girls had the privilege of knowing that it was only their lives at stake by fighting, and in taking their final stand they would endanger nobody else. At the very least, they wouldn't have to abandon their pride and their hope. Maybe everything would turn out to be a miracle.

Feet crushed the stiff, dead leaves strewn around her. Diana turned around to see Alexander standing above her, his face pale and drawn. "Is there something bothering you?" she asked.

"Rebecca told you."

Diana nodded. "She did. Fair warning; my tolerance for this topic of conversation is extraordinarily low."

"I don't blame you. But I feel that I may soon die within the next day, and the same can be said for you. I also feel that you have treated me and my sister with as much fairness as might be expected, given that you've saved both of our lives before, and now you've spared my sister's."

Diana shivered, but the air was not cold. She was aware how much bravery she really had, and she knew that she would never tell a Lyudian what had happened below the city cathedral. "Right."

"I thought that I would speak to you," Alexander said. "To thank you. And to try to understand you."

Diana waved at the ruined city around them. Everything had been either destroyed or reduced to its bare structure and function, so that all that remained was a fort wearing the carcass of a city around its shoulders. "Understand me? The Hierocracy and the Lyudians have failed to understand each other for more than a century. We think you're terrorists. You think we're tyrants. And now we're both fucked. What makes you think you can reverse the trend?"

Alexander shrugged. "I can try; I can hope. To begin, I'm aware that hope plays a significant role in the lives of most humans living inside the Hierocracy. Maybe you can tell me about that."

"Look around you," Diana said. "Do you see hope here?"

Alexander was silent.

"I don't know what makes you think that I'm a good follower of the Goddess," Diana said. "I never chose. I was chosen."

Diana stared at the ground. "That's Domersek doctrine, isn't it? In a nutshell. None of us ever choose. We're chosen by forces that will always remain outside of our control. We're chosen to inhabit bodies and minds that we may or may not even like. I don't want to be a coward. I'd give anything not to be."

"I'm not here to talk to you as the Servant of the Goddess," Alexander said. "I only wanted to—to—you spared my sister, no? I wanted to understand that."

"Not much to understand," Diana muttered. "I didn't want more blood on my hands. No matter how much she repudiates what the movement's become, your sister shares in the responsibility for the deaths of billions. And one very small part of that responsibility is enough—but fuck it, what does one more rebel scum's corpse on the pile at the end of the day matter?"

Diana shook her head. "The Hierocracy had good reason to begin the eradication of Domersek," she said, avoiding Alexander's eyes.

"That's what they say," Alexander said.

"Humanity is nothing without faith in the Goddess. We're alone in a dangerous universe filled with demons that want to kill us. Domersek opened the door once, and it did it again."

Diana looked up. "Look, I have no faith in the Hierocracy or in the Goddess that it represents. Do you think any of the others ever stopped believing? Do you think Godot could have stopped this stupid fucking clash of civilization of she didn't believe? And before her, all the Servants ever did was build stronger ties between church and state, that now we don't even know what the difference is."

Alexander frowned. "Well, the religious has always been political. We can point to examples even before the Hierocracy…"

"Using historiography that's informed by—look, that's not the point. I'm not going to argue academia. A shit lot of good it does you, anyway, when skepticism has you doubt the only path you'll ever know. You're an intelligent guy, Alex. Don't you doubt?"

"I don't like to show it."

"Why not?" Diana asked.

Alexander straightened his back. "I believe in the Lyudian people. I can't deny that most of my people are reactionary, violent, and xenophobic. But I believe in them nonetheless, and I am proud to be one of them, if for no other reason than the fact that they are my people. If we don't have this pride, then what can we be?"

"So ignoring doubt is more like a last-ditch effort than anything else," Diana said.

"Framed in your mind, yes."

There was silence, and Diana was too tired to see it as anything but respite.

"Do you have family, Diana?"

"A mother, a father, and a brother," she said, almost startled at the question. She had forgotten about them when she had entered boarding school.

"You're not very close to them?"

"No."

Alexander scratched the back of his neck. "Oh."

"Were you expecting me to answer differently? Because you're very close to your sister, aren't you?"

"My family and my people," Alexander said, "I would do anything for them."

Alexander was not a very complicated person, Diana thought. He had things figured out. He had rocks to hold on to and goals to pursue. He was aware of some great darkness looming at the peripheries of his vision, but he wasn't that concerned with it. He was a person who could be relied upon. And at least, if he was afraid, he didn't show it, and maybe he could fool himself for some time into thinking that he was not afraid. If Diana's mind was going to be a mystery to herself, the least she could do was make the unpleasant parts mysteries as well.

"You and Rebecca could run," Diana said. "The Inquisition is too busy preparing for battle to care about you two. Run and live."

"If we were to run, then we would either risk death, or cast our lot in with the Domersek-Nazra. The second option is unacceptable. We will stay with you."

"Us?" Diana said. "You'll stay with us, the ones who you see as oppressors and tormentors?"

"We will," Alexander said. "Is it not better to die on your feet than to live on your knees? When Hashal comes, I will stand straight and meet him as an equal."

Diana shrugged. "That's backwards. It should be better to live on your feet than to die on your knees. Philosophy is fun, isn't it?"

"In a certain sense of the word, maybe."

Diana bit her lip. "I don't want to seem like an asshole, but would you mind leaving me alone for a bit?" she asked. "I'm going to see if I can figure out how to die."

Alexander nodded once, turned, and left. When he was out of sight, Diana leaned back against the trunk of a withered tree. The dead leaves around her were the product of this ruined life, death begotten from death. All around her, she could see only the dust settling after disaster. She was in the middle of a desert right now, a plane of sand, and Diana remembered what the water felt like.

She had always had failings, failings which changed when she became a magical girl, but there, as the water hammered the shoreline into gradual oblivion, she was at peace with all her inadequacies and mistakes. Even now when her mistakes were matters of life and death, she wondered if the water would make her feel the same way. There had always been this absurd notion in the back of her mind that a cliff welcomed the pounding of the ocean. It was a slow, rhythmic, steady thing, like being rocked to sleep, and the sound of the waves crashing onto the rock seemed like a gentle sigh of relief more than anything else. The ocean put the rock at peace—come, sweet death—and an eon later there would be nothing more.

When Diana managed to get far away from her planet's major settlements, she could find dunes lining the coastline of the planet's sole continent. Alpha Centauri burned high in the sky, fiery annihilation, and row after row of neatly aligned sandy ridges led to the churning ocean. The sand and the water were so close there, so why couldn't they be here?

Diana shook her head and stood. She could see Inquisitional agents approaching her in the distance, and she knew that she would have to go with them.

-x-

The underground was bright, blindingly so, and very, very dry. There were strips of lighting lining the tunnels, making it such that Diana could hardly find any shadows penetrating the sea of white, while the air seemed to suck all the moisture out of her mouth. Her clothes tingled against her skin, and Diana avoided metallic objects.

Maria's command center comprised of a large whirring slab of machinery projecting a holographic tactical map. She and several of her lieutenants were arrayed around it. As Diana approached the table, a brief ripple went through the Inquisitors, and all of them but Maria filed out. As they left, Diana caught brief glimpses of their expressions—fear and curiosity, combined into some morbid fascination in their supposed salvation.

"Knowing you, you probably want a speedily delivered briefing," Maria said. "We have a report that there is a significantly large contingent of magical girls outside the city walls. They have been under attack by demons ever since they landed on this planet. Many of them are wounded and require immediate evacuation."

Diana's heart beat a little faster. There were a dozen questions she wanted to ask, but she knew that Maria didn't want to play that game. Still, surviving groups outside the cities meant a chance, and that meant hope. "I assume the meeting that I walked in on was deciding what to do about them."

"We decided that we could not send them any supplies. It would be far too risky," Maria said, "and those supplies are better served in here, where they'll defend wounded magical girls who still have a chance to live inside these walls, as opposed to wounded magical girls out there who are doomed to die."

"So we're at the level where we're making those kinds of decisions, are we?"

"This is only business as usual."

"Fuckyour business as usual," Diana said, anger lighting tiny sparks across the surface of her face's resignation. Ordinarily, Diana was sure that she would just say the words to remind herself that there were some things that she did not agree with, but now, there was something more at stake. "We have to do something about them. Those are your girls, D'Arco."

Maria's expression darkened. "You dare suggest that I would abandon my soldiers?"

"Look, just cut the bullshit and tell me your plan. You said that you knew I wanted it quickly."

There were implicit apologies in the way animosity, a mask that did not stick, fell away from both girls' faces.

"We may as well press the advantages we've paid for in taking this city," Maria said. "We have access to the tunnels now. Those girls might well be worse-off than us now, but when the demons come, and all of them will come, there will be a short window of opportunity. The tunnels are very extensive. We send one messenger there to let them know what our plan is. Then, we'll use the tunnels to evacuate this city. They rendezvous with the group outside. The best case scenario is that we fight off the demons, the Rear Admiral breaks through tomorrow morning, and he evacuates both groups. But even if we cannot fight off the demons, at the very least we'll be able to get some people off the planet with this plan, because the Rear Admiral can evacuate the group outside the city while the demons' attention is distracted."

"So who evacuates?" Diana asked.

"There were civilians inside this city when we attacked. They have first priority."

"Obviously."

"Then the wounded, who would contribute nothing to battle. Then high value figures."

Diana made it perfectly clear, through her complete lack of reaction, that she knew exactly what Maria was talking about. "Those being?"

"I had several of my best agents working on this planet, and I'm not having the cream of the Inquisition be wiped out in one battle. The same goes for the Armada officers."

"I'm sure they resisted. Who would want to be a coward before the eyes of the Goddess? We can't serve her if we run away."

Maria raised an eyebrow. "You've never spoken so strongly about this before."

"You haven't spoken to me very much."

"And you seem like the kind of peculiar person who doesn't care as much as you should. So why start now?"

Diana rolled her eyes. "I always cared. I was an irreverent little shithead and I didn't have many friends for it, but only the most audacious shitheads won't hold onto the Goddess of Hope in times of despair. You think I'm different?"

Maria sighed, and then straightened her back. "You have to leave, Diana. If you truly want to serve the Goddess."

"I want you to think long and hard, D'Arco," Diana said. "Use that wonderful Inquisitor brain of yours before you open your mouth again. Can you conceive of any scenario in which I leave this city?"

"You completely ignored what I said. How many more people will die in this war if you are not alive to fight it?"

Diana shook her head. "I'm not some fucking trump card. The Hierocracy has forgotten its true enemies. You think that the drones or the machines of the Hierocracy can hold off the enemy, and if that doesn't work, then we can look to our Servant. That's not how it fucking works. We are fighting despair itself—if you read our history, you know we've always been fighting nothing but despair—and a plasma cannon isn't going to do shit. The demons will only be held back if we hold the line and give exactly what we can afford to give and nothing more."

The dazzling light of the tunnel pressed down upon Diana. "We've all had a taste of war on this planet. And now…"

Now, Diana knew that if she were allowed the opportunity to run once, she would take that chance again and again. Even if there were good enough short-term reasons as to why she had to run, in the long term she knew that she would become a coward through and through, instead of just the closet coward she was now. She was being suffocated by war, and she was sure that, even if she had no faith left to spare, she had to stay by the Goddess to get air, which meant never taking a step back.

Maria's lips pressed together. "That's all very well and good, but you will have to explain to me in more concrete terms why I should let you stay."

Diana wanted to shout at her, and maybe that would make her understand. She had a fate, something she was doomed to struggle against, to cower in terror of, for the rest of her life. Her fate was death, horrifying in its all-encompassing enormity. She had to stay. She knew this with complete certainty. If she were to run, there would be something violently carved out of her identity, something destroyed. Diana knew the old, old myths, of people who were doomed by higher powers to gruesome punishments. But what would Sisyphus do if his rock were taken away from him? Who was she without the fight?

"Use your precognition," Diana said. "I want you to do it. If you see me go, then I'll go. But if you see me stay, then I'll stay. I know that it isn't my fate to go, but shit, I might be wrong. So why don't you find out yourself?"

"Using my powers will take energy that we don't have for issues like this," Maria said. "Why should I waste whatever little fuel we have left, when I only need to wait for you to come to your senses and leave?"

"Because you said that you were willing to let me know how this ends," Diana said. "I don't want to know the end. There's an unimaginable difference between living and dying, but for me, even greater than that is the difference between fighting and not. You don't get it. I don't get it. But you don't have to look to the end. Just look forwards ten stupid minutes and see if I'm still in this city."

Diana realized that she probably looked and sounded like she was losing her grip on reality, but she knew this with a dreadful certainty, and if this is what it took for Maria to know it as well, then that was fine. There was blood on her hands now, blood of an innocent mother that bound her to this planet—to either save it or die on it. There was the blood of an innocent world where she could be cynical about the Hierocracy because she truly believed that it was fundamentally righteous and just, but now the cynicism was like drinking poison and expecting to laugh because of it. It was just stupid.

Maria's face clenched. It was very different from her ordinary expression, but there was quite clearly the same person underneath it, which made Diana vaguely uncomfortable. Then again, she wondered if she was making people uncomfortable in the same way.

"You really want me to do it?"

How much did Diana really know what her destiny was, though? What if Maria looked into her future and saw her running? Then she would have to run.

Diana didn't entertain any delusions that she could in some way alter what Maria would see. If Maria saw her run, then she couldn't decide to flippantly defy fate and choose to stay. She remembered what it had been like to be beaten down by that archdemon. When her hands held the power of the Goddess, she had still been outmatched by the world. If her will held only the hands of a normal human being, then what could possibly make her think that she could fight the will of time?

Her soul was a rock—a rock, made up of the same matter as everything else in the universe. She could touch it and feel it and bounce it off the ground, just the same as a rock that wasn't her soul. There was nothing special about the human soul, and nothing special about the human will. Everything was part of the same machinery.

"Would it help if I said 'please,' D'Arco? Yes, I want you to do it."

D'Arco's eyes glowed white for a split second. Then, her shoulders sagged.

"You stay."

"Pleasure doing business," Diana said. "You know if May Huang is among those survivors?"

"I don't know. You know—"

"There are others. Of course I know." Maria's lip curled slightly at the interruption.

Diana sighed. "I have one request. It'll help us both."

Diana wasn't at all sure if the choice she was about to make was well-informed, or even fundamentally respectful, but she was going to do it anyway. It seemed like a good idea, and that was enough for her.

"You know Tanaka Akira?"

"The Hearth engineer, yes."

Diana clenched her hands, took a breath, and then spoke. "Send her to lead the evacuation. Obviously they will have vital equipment that is in need of repairs. An expert engineer will be useful."

Maria raised her eyebrows. "I didn't expect that you'd be capable of this."

"Watch me."

"Will you at least talk to her?"

You're afraid, Diana told herself. Out loud, she said, "I will if I can."

"Good. I'll send the appropriate orders," Maria said.

The two girls' eyes met, crossing on the border of apprehension. What had been done on this planet bound them together. Diana saw before her the leader of a force more sinister and troubled than she had expected, and Maria saw before her the representative of a divine will more human than was convenient. But more than that, they knew that there would always be a part of themselves that the other would understand, whether or not they liked it. And Diana probably didn't like it. She really only wanted to be this naked before a select number of people, and Maria was not one of them.

But Diana wasn't without her own personal victories as well. She would see that smiling face in crowds and know exactly how much of it was a lie. She would know that Maria, just like everyone else, was only trying to survive. And for all the confidence in the world, when it came time to fight, only competency mattered.

"Did you want to say something?" Maria asked.

Diana slowly shook her head.

"Then go."

-x-

Diana hadn't been able to find Akira. She must have been sent to aid evacuation around noon, and now the sun was falling, casting streaks of blood across the horizon. The light filtered in through shattered windows, casting the cathedral in a jagged, crimson glow. It was the same cathedral that had served as the heretic stronghold.

The original artist must have used scaffolding of some sort to build the now-ruined mosaic, but Diana could fly. One of her wings was bent under her arm, carrying an assortment of colored pebbles and tools. There was extensive damage to the mosaic, but Diana was fairly confident that she could fix it. She had experimented with some mosaic forms at school. The Hierocracy sponsored most religious form of art expression, although, granted, it was hard to find art that didn't have some religious themes. Really, all Diana had learned from the experience was that copying the Freude was really cliché, which had earned frowns from her supervisor—but still. It was true.

The mosaic was dominated by a central image of a magical girl, bent down on one knee, face hidden and turned skywards. All Freude rip-offs were like that. An endless battlefield surrounded the girl, littered with dead and dying bodies twisted in grotesque, disturbing poses. The girl clutched a pale, bloodied hand, whose owner could not be seen.

In the sky, two white wings sprouted down from the heavens. The rest of the mosaic was bleak and dark—this was the only source of light. But the damage to the mosaic had mostly erased the wings.

There was some deviation from the original Freude, to be fair. The girl's dress took some cues from Lyudian clothing, and the poses were refined from the original abstractions to a more realist interpretation, but really, what could be said about this piece from an artistic standpoint but that it was yet another derivation?

Diana knew that she barely had any time to work on the mosaic. All she had managed to do was carefully reconstruct the girl's expression of unadulterated happiness and joy. But there was still so much to be done. How would she reconstruct the wings?

Behind Diana, two Inquisitional agents were quite obviously engaged in telepathic conversation. Still facing the mosaic, Diana said, "I would've thought that Inquisitors could hide when they're speaking behind somebody's back."

Both girls flushed, before quickly sweeping into subservient kneeling positions. Diana frowned. "Please don't do that."

"Forgive us."

"You're forgiven."

"Why are you doing this?"

"I like art. Is that punishable under Inquisitional code now?"

The two agents fell into an uncomfortable silence. Diana supposed that if she were a more approachable religious figure, it would be easier talking to people who didn't already know her. But as it was, she would never see these people again, in all likelihood, and any one of them might be dead by tomorrow morning. And they would all be dead if Yoshio couldn't break through.

Diana sighed. "What do you think the Lyudians put into this planet?"

"Put...into?"

"For every radical, for every heretic, there's an honest Lyudian who just wants to live life like the rest of us. Who wants hope just like any other follower of the Goddess. Who is surrounded by darkness like any other human being. What is this planet to them? What's the motto of the Fleet of Hope?"

"Terra invicta."

"But there's no Rackba invicta, is there? This planet's fucked either way. We stay, it's fucked. We leave, it's fucked. It's going to burn. There is nothing, nothing we can do to save its people. All we've been thinking about this whole time is saving the Armada, getting the Inquisitors who were trapped on this planet out. This is when you know we're desperate—when the shield that guards humanity has to abandon it just to survive."

Diana passed a hand across the mosaic. "I was on Genesis, you know. And sometimes, I wonder if I could have left something behind on that planet to burn with the rest of it. Now, this time, I have the chance."

Alarms sounded throughout the city. They heralded one message: Battle stations. They are coming.

Diana landed softly on the floor. The two Inquisitors' eyes were fixed on her as she moved towards the cathedral's door. "Don't you have a job to do?" Diana asked.

"General D'Arco just wanted us to make sure you weren't doing anything foolish."

Diana, who had passed the agents, glanced behind her and gave them a flat stare. "Honestly, that's kind of insulting."

One agent looked vaguely embarrassed, but the other only shrugged. "Orders are orders," she said. "And I wouldn't put it past you."

Diana raised an eyebrow at the girl. Her dark skin meant that she was probably either Terran or from one of the Sol colonies. She could read absolutely nothing from the girls' expression.

"I don't know you."

She shrugged again. "That's fine."

Diana laughed. It was a strange thing to do, because of all the irony and absurdity that surrounded her nothing had made her laugh, but this situation, which by all accounts was not at all humorous, did.

"May the Goddess be with you," the girls said, a solemn proclamation that meant absolutely nothing. Out of any of them, the Goddess was with Diana the most, and all of them knew it.

"Yeah, you too," Diana said, before beating her wings and taking to the air.

No thoughts of battle crossed Diana's mind. Instead, she thought about Akira. If she had found her, what could she possibly say to her? Sending her away had been an act of pure selfishness, done to ensure her survival. Even if Diana died here, then Akira would live. But in death, Diana would still be running away from Akira—scared to fail her until the very end.

What could she have said? "I'm sorry; I love you?" Out of all the falsehoods and lies that she could say, that would indeed be the one with the most truth, wouldn't it? If she were to ever see Akira again, would she be forgiven? In all honesty, she probably would be. But Diana didn't know how she could ever remove the thorn she had driven between them—and she had only kissed her, what, half a day ago?

Akira was courage. Akira was what it meant to not be afraid. Diana knew, with the same certainty that she had known her destiny, that she could not afford to lose that. But if she had not sent her away, then she would be here right now, beside her, and Diana would know what it would mean to not be afraid. They would stand together, for one instant in time, flanked and hemmed in by the turmoil and uncertainty of the past and future.

She was nothing without Akira anyway. The Armada girls had asked for her, but they had gotten Maria D'Arco instead, Maria D'Arco with her city, and now Maria D'Arco with her evacuation. She was the true savior. Diana could only provide firepower.

Diana looked up at the fading sky and imagined that she was holding the crushing weight of loneliness on her shoulders. Atlas stood alone, didn't he? Something miraculous had been hidden in that moment when she looked into Akira's eyes, but now it was gone with Akira. Diana had cast Akira back into the stars, and she had kept something of herself down on this planet, so she was stretched out, like a rope from the heavens down to earth. She was trying to keep herself tethered to something meaningful, but she still felt nothing but loneliness.

She wanted to see Yoshio again, in his red-and-white robes, who she remembered curled up like a porcupine in the starport at Genesis. She wanted to see Christine again, and entertain the fantasy that there were heroes like Arthur's knights that now walked the stars. She wanted to see May again, and embrace the steel and warmth that was inside her. She wanted to see Akira one more time, and remember the soft feel of her lips, the silky tickling feeling of her jet-black hair as it rubbed against her face, the enormity of the presence that her miniscule hand made against her own. She wanted to not fear, one more time, one more time, just like she had wished. Wasn't this part of the contract?

Diana did not land softly. An imaginary glass dome covered the battlefield before first blood was drawn, and Diana wanted to smash right through. She dashed through the mass of demons that were descending upon the city, shooting everything that she saw, sweeping aside giant mobs of enemies with her wings. Her soul gem glowed brightly in the night. The howling of Reaper drones and the hum of laser fire rang in Diana's ears, and streaks of light flashing overhead burned themselves into her eyes.

Battle washed away the doubts and replaced it with panic and desperation and anger, a primal fear instead of a rooted one. Diana resolved that if she was going to die here, then she would at least kill as many demons as she could.

-x-

Decay takes us all, little girl, the demon said. You put in more than what you get out. It's thermodynamics.

Diana rooted through debris, hands tingling in the dissipating miasma. She had four grief cubes that hadn't dissipated, four out of at least twenty that should have been yielded. Now, she was just trying to find the demons that had died hidden in the cracks and under rocks. To her left, a demon was pinned by one of her arrows to the side of a ruined building. Its form was beginning to flicker and dim. Diana did not want to spare the effort to kill the thing. She still wasn't sure which demons were sapient and which were not, or whether or not it mattered.

"If you guys know that so well, you'd fear death, wouldn't you?"

Of course we don't. We are death.

Diana flipped over a piece of rubble and felt a tiny jolt of excitement at the grief cubes hidden underneath. A few were dissipating already, but three remained very solid, their black surfaces shining invitingly. Diana manifested her soul gem and tossed it into the pile, watching as the darkness drained away.

"Where's your leader?" Diana asked. "He should be here."

Now, why would I tell you that?

"Good point. You wouldn't want to die aiding the enemy, would you?"

The demon growled. Why do you ask about the harbinger of your demise? Do you not fear death?

"Of course I do," Diana said. Her voice was quiet and level.

Then despair, for he is coming, and nothing you humans can do will possibly stop him.

Now, Diana's soul gem glowed with a healthy light. With a flash, it re-appeared back in the clasp at her shoulder. Diana turned around, walked two steps to meet the demon, and stared into the horrid surface of its face.

"You don't fear death?" she said. "I don't believe it." With one fluid motion, Diana yanked the arrow out of its chest and speared it straight back into its head.

The demons' initial push forwards had been repelled. Diana didn't know how many were dead. She had taken the opportunity presented by the lull in the fighting to gather grief cubes when she had found the demon trapped to the wall. She didn't even remember firing that arrow.

A voice above Diana shouted out, "Hey!" Diana craned her neck upwards to find the source of the voice. A group of magical girls who had been rooftop-hopping across the city had stopped to address her.

"What?"

"We're pulling back. Didn't you see the flares?"

Diana took a few moments to reflect on the absurdity of it all—under the demon miasma, they were still reduced to finding ways to communicate that didn't involve telepathy or communications devices. It was small and stupid, and Diana found it, in that one moment, worse than everything else. It was worse than the death, the despair, and the demons. It was worse than the future hidden inside the rocks of this planet—that everything would burn. They were using fucking flares, and Diana wanted to leave.

Diana flew onto the rooftop. There was fatigue in the girls' faces, but worst of all, there was hope when they saw Diana approach them. Disgust swilled within Diana's stomach. That was the hope of a century long gone, when people like Akemi Homura could make a girl believe that there was something worth fighting for, no matter what. Diana was not that person. She looked at the girls with the eyes of the starving peeking into a banquet party. Then, without saying anything, Diana spread her wings and took off.

The defensive perimeter of the Inquisition's line was comprised of automated plasma turrets, snipers both contracted and not, as well as a healthy complement of drones hidden in tunnels and hollow buildings. Behind the perimeter, the magical girls not engaged in active combat against the demons hid. The perimeter provided reasonably adequate protection against the forces that the demons had thus far sent, but several other perimeters behind this one had been prepared in the event that the Inquisition needed to fall back.

A few heads turned as the Servant landed in the midst of the camp, sparking small, transient fires in their hearts. But there was work to be done, a battle to fight, and a cold death in the future to walk towards, so the fire was quickly forgotten.

Diana's eyes caught something of note—a familiar figure, hunched over something in a dark, distant corner of the Inquisitional camp. A few other magical girls were standing completely still some distance away, far enough to give some semblance of respect.

When she heard Diana approaching, Rebecca turned around, made brief eye contact, and then hastily looked away. It was too obvious. Diana quickened her footsteps, and then halted abruptly when she saw what Rebecca was huddled over. There was a magical girl, lying there in the dirt, her costume torn, her limbs broken, and the soul gem on her wrist slowly fading.

Diana turned around and caught the attention of the first Inquisitor she saw. "What happened here?"

"She was the only person in her squad to survive," the Inquisitor said.

"And why's she out here?"

"She didn't want grief cubes. Even if she did, we don't have enough. Nor do we have enough room—"

"To give her any dignity in death? What the fuck is this?" Diana asked, stepping forwards.

The Inquisitor flinched, bit her lip, but held her ground. "We don't—she was a comrade and sister of the Inquisition. If we could possibly spare anything to preserve the pride of this organization, do you think we would hold anything back?"

Diana felt her right arm trembling, so she shoved it behind her back and clamped onto it with her left arm. She turned around to look at something that wasn't the agent, but the dying magical girl was on the other side. Diana realized, her eyes widening slightly, that the girl was Lyudian.

A comrade and sister of the Inquisition. It was a joke. There was no organization filled with more contradictions than the Inquisition of the Hierocracy.

The Inquisitor next to Diana gasped softly. In that dark, distant corner, the fading light had gone out. Rebecca stood slowly, her head bowed, before walking away.

"Who was she?" Diana asked.

Rebecca shook her head. "She was Lyudian. A Domerseka, a follower of Hashal, who took up arms and decided to fight for the Hierocracy's Goddess."

"What's your point? Are you saying that it's a waste to martyr yourself for the Goddess?"

Rebecca narrowed her eyes at Diana. "No, I'm not."

"Then what are you?"

"Our two civilizations aren't supposed to be compatible. I do not understand how she served the Goddess."

"That's stupid. The people of the Hierocracy and the Lyudian people all came from Earth."

Rebecca snorted. "That happened centuries ago."

"And? Does the passage of time mean that we need to be locked in some sort of great battle to determine the course of history? The Goddess is Hope, and Hashal is Death. The universe is nothing but a giant, blobby, disorganized mess of those two things. Why not believe in both?"

Diana had seen recognition alight upon people's faces before, and what she saw in Rebecca looked absolutely nothing like that. She looked troubled and confused and exhausted, and there was no room for understanding there. There probably wasn't any room for understanding in Diana either.

The sky was beginning to darken. Diana sighed. "Look, what does it mean to be Lyudian, anyway?"

After a moment, Rebecca made steady eye contact with Diana. "To submit to exactly two things—Hashal, and the hands of time. All else is to be struggled against."

"Like the Hierocracy."

"Yes."

"Look, then we're not so different," Diana said. "Because what it means to worship the Goddess is to struggle against everything. Your death, your despair, all your enemies—you can never, ever, submit. But see, the real thing that makes us the same, is that we're both gonna lose."

"So that's your view on that girl over there," Rebecca said. "She lost."

"Nothing wrong with it if everybody does it."

Rebecca scowled some more, opened her mouth, but didn't say anything. The two of them walked on in silence for a bit, as curious magical girls spared inconsequential moments of their time to glance at them. Either one of them could have peeled away from the other, but there was a sort of awful intimacy between them now. They could see inside each other's veils of secrecy.

Diana suddenly stopped. If she had to describe it later, it had been like when she was in front of Maria, and she had known her destiny. Now, she felt something pulling her inexorably forwards. She looked at the horizon, just as light flashed and chaos erupted.

Diana's magically enhanced vision let her see that there was a white figure in the distance, hovering high above the ground. Methodically, it blasted apart the defenses of the Inquisition's position. Drones and magical girls were cut down like flies in desperate attempts to halt its advance. It was obvious that the perimeter was hopelessly breached, and already, across the city, magical girls were falling back.

Next to her, Rebecca was white-faced and wide-eyed. Her footing slipped as she trembled uncontrollably. But then, resolve entered like a drug into Rebecca's bloodstream, and her figure regained its solidity. Diana did not tremble. Instead, she felt a weight all over her body, and she could not summon the willpower to move with that weight holding her down. Every step she took was one step closer, closer to that thing dragging her forwards, when she wanted to dig in her heels and stay, run away, like all the others who were falling back.

But she knew why she was pulled forwards. She had to serve. She had to atone. She had to fight. Diana felt the struggle drain out of her. She turned to Rebecca and said, in a low, level voice, "You need to find your brother."

Rebecca nodded, and then scrambled off. An instant later, in a burst of light and sound, Diana launched herself towards the figure in the distance. She loosed an arrow, which the archdemon lazily batted aside with a laser.

Back again, Servant? I don't see why you keep coming for more.

Diana dodged to one side as a laser swept past her, and then charged straight for the archdemon. Now, seeing it for a second time, Diana realized that the archdemon's humanoid form was one of the most disturbing things about it. All the other demons' proportions were off, but this one could be mistaken as a human being. It was just a monk, garbed in clean white robes, with a twisted mess for a face, and an awful light emanating from where it would have eyes.

Diana executed what was by now a well-practiced move: in one fluid motion, she grabbed an arrow from her quiver and then struck for the side of the archdemon's neck. The archdemon darted out with its hand, caught Diana's wrist, and then tossed her towards the ground. Diana spread her wings a half second before she hit, and then sped out of the way as the archdemon came crashing down onto her.

She could only hold her ground for a few second at a time, until she was pushed back, slowly and steadily. For every arrow she fired, the demon had a reply. For every trick she tried, the archdemon brushed it aside almost casually.

Look, surrendering would be easier, wouldn't it?

Diana let her desperation loose from her lungs and belted out a guttural scream. In reply, the archdemon sped towards her. She fired once; it dodged out of the way, and then it was onto her. Before, Diana had turned and flew away. This time, she held her ground. She swung out with her bow, using it as a club, infusing it with all the magic she could. It shattered against the archdemon's robes. Yelling again, she lashed out with her fists, only to be beaten back.

Hope is a life of struggle and hardship. You'll either make it out or you won't, but if you always hope that you will, you'll be disappointed in the very end. Why not let go? Why not see what your destiny is and just accept it?

Diana repeated her own words to herself: struggle against everything. Those words ran through her mind as the demon slammed into her, again and again, like pounding onto a pane of glass until it was crisscrossed with fractures and about to explode.

And then, the demon stopped. Why not run? Aren't you afraid of death? This can't end any other way. There are beings more powerful than your Goddess, so even if you represent her, you can't beat me. You might run for a little while, though.

Diana summoned a new bow, notched an arrow, and then aimed point blank at the demon.

What happened next was an absurdity. Throughout the military history of the Hierocracy, many battlefield plans of questionable soundness had been attempted, and few of them had been successful. These few were examined in aristocratic military academies and dissected to see if they could be replicated. From stalling tactics from garrison fleets against stolen rebel battleships, to desperate attempts to break the defenses of demon-held regions on Earth, faith in the Goddess prompted many the fanatical soldier to resort to insanity.

At some point in human history, people stopped knowing how their transportation worked. Thus, engineering became an occupation. At that moment, nobody on the planet Rackba could tell you how an FTL engine on a ruined cruiser worked, except for one person. That one person could tell you that even if everything else on a battleship was trashed, if the FTL engine was intact, and if an instant of propulsion could be achieved, then that engine could bust through the fabric of space and time for that instant. It would be a feat of unthinkable precision and finesse to somehow control where the cruiser emerged, but theoretically, it could be done.

In the distance, engines began to hum. Light burst across the horizon, the brightest star in the oncoming night, and then a cruiser appeared right above the demon forces. Colored light streamed from the cruiser in all directions, a brilliant display of radiance, and then suddenly the demons were not pushing forwards so quickly anymore. Across the city, aided by the element of surprise, magical girls dropped down from the cruiser and began to rain fire on the demons. Drones emerged from the cruiser and streaked across the city, enveloping the demons in a new barrage of plasma.

The cruiser was falling rapidly, but one final burst of its propulsion sent the massive cylinder careening out of the way of its payload. Diana and the archdemon had fought their way to an isolated corner of the city. The cruiser was coming straight for them.

The archdemon raised an arm to bat the incoming starship out of the sky. As it was distracted, Diana released her arrow. It hit the demon straight in the chest, blowing it backwards through a building, and then pinning it to a wall on the other side. Then she spread her wings and flew away as fast as she could.

Behind her, the cruiser hit the city. It was a five-hundred meter long cylinder of burning metal, failing propulsion systems, and improvised kinetic weaponry. It flattened two city blocks when it hit in a deafening scream of impact. The shockwave swept over Diana, but she was too busy flying away to pay it much attention.

When she was far enough away to stop and look behind her, Diana saw only fire and the ruined remains of the cruiser scattered across the city. Then, a voice spoke in Diana's mind. It said, Keep running, Servant of the Goddess. I'll catch up later.

Diana turned around and flew.

This is Maria D'Arco, addressing all magical girls in the area. Pull back immediately.

It seemed that telepathy was functional again, at least for a little while. Then, a new voice spoke in Diana's mind, and her heart leapt—Demons are retreating, General D'Arco. We are fresh. We can pursue.

Withdraw, Sergeant Huang. If you overextend, then you'll be wiped out. We are in no position to support you right now.

Wait, Diana said. That archdemon's down for the moment. If we want to reestablish any sort of perimeter, we have to do it now.

A murmur of telepathic chatter went through Diana's mind at the news, most of it asking the question: What happened?

Cruiser fell on it.

Maria's voice cut off any further idle speech. Sergeant Huang, I presume that you are in command of the reinforcements?

Correct.

You have permission to advance. Take with you only those who are necessary.

Orders understood, general.

Diana flew on. She wondered, for a moment, what happened to those moves that combined tactical genius and sheer luck that never managed to change the outcome in the end. What had happened now was undoubtedly a miracle, but centuries in the future, would historians look upon this day and call it the Miracle at Rackba, or was it just the struggling and twitching of a dying army that refused to go gently and neatly?

That was the choice, wasn't it? To go gently, or to make a mess, to spill blood, to see your guts dangling out in front of you, to watch your soul gem darken and fade as despair seeped into every single crevasse of your mind, and then to die, ignominiously, forgotten, dust-bitten. It was to do that, or to go gently—or maybe to live.

Maybe they would look back and call it a miracle after all.

-x-

Diana was cornered in the open. There was nobody around her, nobody to judge, only herself and Akira, standing before her. She was trapped by their privacy—because there were things even Akira wouldn't say in public. It just wasn't very neat. It wasn't clean. It didn't allow for a complete purging of the mind.

Akira was shorter than her, but Diana was slouching, so they stood eye to eye. Shame was fear's aftertaste, it was the lining, and it tasted just as bitter as the main dish. The texture was different, though. This created a thick sludge in her veins, made her feel like she couldn't move, blotting out the thoughts in her mind. Diana wanted to run away, but in this case it was more like dissolve away. Her boundaries would fall apart and then the sludge would pour out of her. All that would be left would be the shame.

"I'm sorry," Diana said.

Akira had a familiar face. Her father had worn that face when her brother had back-talked, yelled at him once. She had never paid much attention to either of them, but that face was burned in her mind. One of the girls at school had worn that face when Diana muttered something about her intelligence a little too loudly under her breath back when she was thirteen. The others had laughed, anyway.

Akira asked, "Why?"

Then, before Diana could answer, she said, "This is stupid, I know why. You wouldn't ask a question you already knew the answer to, would you? You wanted to keep me safe."

Diana nodded.

"I felt so useless," Akira said. "Like you didn't need me. And honestly, why would you need me? I'm just—"

"Akira, you just saved my fucking life. I'm an idiot. I should never have…"

Drones screamed overhead. The sky was completely black now, and the only light came from the dim glow of the stars and the warm embrace of the burning city. This was the lull in the fighting, the lull when both sides retreated for a few minutes, and people desperately searched for one last meaningful thing to do before committing themselves once more to the half-death of uncertain survival. Diana and Akira were in a narrow alleyway, and in that moment Diana could not choose a more claustrophobic place in the entire galaxy.

"No," Akira said. "No! I didn't want to be protected! Why—why didn't you even ask me? Or tell me? Or find me?"

"I—"

Diana wanted to say, "I tried," but suddenly the enormity of that statement's uselessness crashed down upon her. It gathered inside her and became more sludge. She couldn't say anything that could even pretend to be half-useful.

"I don't know."

"You don't…you don't—what does that even mean?"

Diana realized that if she wanted anything she would have to beg for it and that she would beg for it. She was going out soon. They were all going to go out soon. And if they went out with no sense of closure then death would almost be preferable. She felt sick with desperation and frustration. For all it mattered, she was as good as dead when she went out. There was yet another precipice in front of her, yet another open expanse of black glittering sky stretched out before her, but this time it was not hers to explore. She was its to engulf. Diana looked into Akira's face and felt herself sinking into it.

Akira leaned forwards and kissed Diana. There was that rush again. Diana felt it dull and dim against her own uselessness. When they separated, she could see Akira searching her expression for something, something that she knew she could not provide. It had been only fourteen or fifteen hours and already she was failing Akira.

"So if I fuck up, you'll still humor me?" Feed me?

The frustration in Akira's face deepened. "I—why do you have to be like that now?"

Diana' smile was one of the worst she had ever made. It was disgustingly bad, but she found herself making it nonetheless. Aesthetically speaking it was just the same smile it had always been, but this time, this time, more so than all the other times, there was nothing funny. "Everything's just so absurd," was all she could say.

"Please don't get existential on me."

"I wasn't planning on it," Diana said.

Akira's frustration was beginning to waver. For an instant, her frustration collapsed, and there was that same face she had worn in the beginning. "I told you, I'm afraid too. Right?"

"I know."

"Then please, don't wave a hand and have me led out of your life," Akira said. "I don't…"

Akira's voice fell to little more than a whisper. "I had a dream where I died alone on this planet."

These were the final nails of failure in Diana's coffin. Just then, flares shot out across the city. The magical girls were launching their final stand. Clouds rolled over the endless night and the shining moon.

"It won't happen," Diana said. "Whatever happens, we'll go together. I promise."

Diana looked at Akira and realized that she was looking into a mirror. There was the same desperation there. She had betrayed Akira, and now Akira would do anything to have the security she had once enjoyed, to have the knowledge that Diana would not do it again. But nothing could provide that assurance, nothing except time and fading memories, or else an abrupt death and a moot question.

Akira was shaking. "I don't want to die useless. If I can have anything, just one thing, I want to die in the service of something greater. The Goddess. My sisters. You."

"We already got our one thing, didn't we?"

Once again, Diana remembered the faces of the people on the ship fleeing Genesis, as they looked to her, prayed to her. Akira had that same face right now. Diana wanted to say, I can't grant you any wishes.

Akira shook her head. "I was an idiot. I wished…there was this stupid kink in the most recent generation of FTL engines, and nobody could figure it out. So I wished that I could. What was I thinking? That wish didn't even matter then; all I really wanted was to be a magical girl, to be closer to the Goddess. I just don't want—I don't want to die alone or run away."

"No," Diana said. "You won't. I—"

She refused to contemplate the possibility.

"I won't let it happen."

Diana looked at the fading trails of the flares. "I need to fight that archdemon. Alone."

Akira winced. "This time, I can't do anything to help you, can I?"

"They need you somewhere else. Look, that's not the point. If I die, then this city might not fall. Yoshio could make it in time. I just need to give you guys a chance, make sure that…that I have a meaningful death too. I can ask for that too, right?"

Diana felt the tiny warmth of Akira's hand against her own. "Please, don't say that."

"I'm not going out there because I want to. I'm going out there because I can't stand thinking that, if I run, you'll die. We could run away, together, but both of us know that we can't. In this battle, we're going to be separated. We can't easily communicate. So…so just know that—"

Akira nodded and gripped Diana's hand.

"I have to go," Diana said. She slipped her fingers out of Akira's own, felt as the warmth fell away from her skin. Then, she took flight.

-x-

The Servant fought on top of a cathedral. A short distance away from her, a coiled snake watched with eyes so oily black they seemed in danger of catching fire if there were a spark. Around the snake and the Servant, two armies waged war, not to decide the fate of a planet, which was doomed, or even to fight for the Goddess above, who in that moment seemed to be either very secure in comparison from the forces that now assailed humanity, or else as vulnerable and weak as the rest of them. The snake knew that in the hearts of humanity the most primal flame of survival sparked, flaring in the wind, struggling desperately not to be blown out. It had watched, centuries ago, as that flame had burned into an inferno of hope and burned Earth to ashes. That was the Hierocracy—a civilization born out of the blackened wreck of what had come before.

At the base of the cathedral, a drone was hit by laser fire and spiraled to the ground. When it hit, there was silence, even as one figure crawled out of the tangled heap of metal. No demons came for the magical girl. They flew over her, spiraling towards the figure of light on top of the cathedral, only to be cut down, one after another.

The Servant leaped down from the cathedral, grief cubes in hand, and rushed towards the girl on the ground. It was almost painful for the snake to watch her do this. Could she not taste the blood of the fallen when it already permeated the entire planet? Did death not reveal itself before her eyes when she looked?

The Servant reached out with the grief cubes, only to watch as the girl's soul gem plunged deeper into blackness, as the girl refused what grief cubes were offered—it was a waste. The snake knew it. It was a waste to try and stop what was coming. It had known it all along, ever since the beginning, until the end, even when the others had turned against him, said that it had betrayed them…

How could the snake be a traitor, when all along, it was what the Incubators were fighting?

"They're holding magical girls on a bridge seven kilometers north of here," the girl said. "You have to save them."

Light began to descend from the sky.

"I will," the Servant said, gripping the girl's hands. "I promise."

Now, at last, the Servant could see death. She backed up, fearful of the cold grip that took the girl before her. She didn't know who the girl was, her name, where she came from, or what her hopes had been. She knew only the girl's death, one corpse tucked neatly in the corner of a city, one more autumn leaf passing in the wind.

And now the theater began in earnest. One bolt of pink light split the clouds, racing towards the ground. The dying girl's eyes widened, first in surprise and then in the very specific ecstasy that only religion provided. She would be a martyr after all.

There was a brief, solemn ceremony, and then the deed was done and the girl died.

With a flash of light, only seen by the serpent, the Goddess straightened up, growing taller as she did so. When she stood upright, she was clothed in white, and her eyes glowed with golden light. The serpent slithered down the side of the building to meet her.

"Very easy to get detached, isn't it?"

The Goddess turned to address the serpent. "I would think you'd have some sense of decorum. This is your mess, after all, and it seems like bad form to make jokes over what's your fault."

"I don't care. Fault or no fault, what will happen already happened and what happened will happen again. You thought I cared? Be serious."

Tiny wrinkles, barely perceptible, appeared on the Goddess' face. It was rare that the serpent could get this sort of reaction out of anyone—well, she was really the only person it could get any sort of reaction from. The serpent had two choices: a legion of uncaring faces, and the Goddess, who probably hated it.

It would immerse itself in the hate for all eternity.

"What right do you even have to be offended? This was my domain. It's still my domain. You think you can just waltz in and change what has and must be? If you hold their hand when they cross over, do you think that I will be any kinder waiting on the other side? I said that it'd be easy to get detached, but that's clearly not the case. You're still only human."

Madoka smiled. "You're afraid."

"What?"

"You said, 'Only human.'"

The serpent paused. "A poor choice of words, but let's not kid ourselves, if I wanted to keep track of every discursive misstep on your part, we'd be here all day. Eternity, maybe. And who would want to spend all that time tracing the imperfections of an immortal?"

The Goddess shook her head and turned away from the serpent. "I'm staying on this planet."

"For how long?"

"Forever."

The serpent laughed. "Fair enough."

-x-

It was only when she was halfway to the bridge that Diana realized—demons didn't take prisoners. They just killed everything they saw. Why would they be taking prisoners this time? Surely the Inquisitional girl couldn't have been lying to her. There was the possibility that she had simply mistaken what she had seen, but all the same, Diana flew on faster through the night.

Once again, the archdemon was nowhere to be seen. Diana had figured it out. The demons came first, in droves, completely willing to die by the thousands, as they slowly wore down the city's defenses.

(If they truly were not afraid to die, then that made sense, because they were hardly alive in the first place. But Diana still did not believe it.)

After the defenders had been worn out, after every single grief cube had been exhausted, after the archdemon and the despair it represented already owned the city, then it would swoop in and reap its harvest. And there and then, Diana would make her final stand. She would fight the archdemon for a third time, and this time she would lose for good, but maybe, maybe in her death she could save some lives from destruction. Maybe as darkness covered her in genuine death, she would discover something hidden in the folds of the Reaper's cloak. She would find meaning—a slip of paper saying, you were alive—and everything would be okay.

They were losing the battle. Even with May's fresh reinforcements, the demons were pushing the magical girls back. The demons never tired, and they never wanted for grief cubes. They only hungered for something more to consume, something more to destroy, impassively circling the skies over a dying species and a dying civilization. Diana passed over the burning wreckage of two drones. She could not see any corpses. Tiny flashes of light dotted the night sky as battle continued in orbit above. Yoshio had said that the best-case scenario would be arrival by the morning, but it would be many long hours until then, and Diana knew that even if they held out, only a lucky few would survive.

In the distance, a black serpent cutting through the city reflected the night sky above. Even as the city around it burned, the river remained calm, its waters rhythmically lapping its shores. If there were anywhere she could hide, Diana realized, it would be there, under the waters. She could let the serpent wrap around her and shelter her. It was safer in the water of the womb than it was in the desert of the world. Being born was a curse.

The bridge had two layers. The surface of the bridge swarmed with demons. Diana aimed an arrow at the sky and released it, watching as it burst into a blue flare overhead. It was a signal indicating where she was. The bridge was a fair bit behind current demon battle lines, but maybe, with Diana's push forwards, they could reclaim some ground, buy some time, before the horde surged forwards once more.

Diana dove down towards the demons. They scattered from the bridge, and Diana did not bother loosing arrows after them. It would be a waste of magic. A few demons remained to challenge her, bolder and prouder than the rest. They died at her feet, bubbling away into miasma, cursing her name. Diana was too numb to even take any satisfaction from their deaths.

Once the surface was clear, Diana moved down to the bottom layer of the bridge. This layer, shielded from moonlight, was cast in shadow, and Diana could barely make out what was happening. She tracked where the demon lasers came from and shot in those directions, watching as figures fell over. Then, she summoned a ball of light in her hands and tossed it into the air, illuminating the bridge. Her eyes widened, and suddenly Diana found herself suppressing the urge to scream or vomit.

They had been captured to be tortured. Diana found herself rooted to the spot for a moment, as colors—just like the ones she used for paints—overwhelmed her mind, black and red and yellow. It looked like the inside of a demon battleship, and human flesh was draped everywhere, like a butcher's shop.

Then the cries and moans hit Diana's ears, and she realized that some were still alive. She was only one person—she was a vanguard, not a rescue team—but she rushed forwards, freeing magical girls, and not knowing what to do with them. Diana's light shone on a familiar figure in the distance. Panic seized Diana's heart as she spread her wings and flew over.

"Akira!"

Akira's eyes were fixed straight forwards, even as Diana approached her. "Akira!" Diana shouted again, before turning around to see what she was looking at. She saw another familiar face staring back at her. Before she could even go towards that face, Akira stopped her.

"He's dead."

Death had been unfair to Alexander. There was no pride or dignity in his death—a corpse, bloodied and mangled, with a ruined face and broken limbs, dangling before Diana. But surely, surely there was some meaning in it all. At least Diana would know that he had died a proud man. He had died as a man who had loved his family and his people, and wasn't that—

"Doesn't it count for anything?" Diana whispered.

"I'm sorry," Akira said. "I—I couldn't do anything, they—"

Akira's voice broke. Diana turned around and felt the last sparks of hope inside her fade as she looked into Akira's defeated face. Her eyes were completely, utterly lifeless.

No—there was some hope left. "Come on," Diana said, reaching out a hand. "We need to get out of here."

Akira didn't move.

"Please. Akira, I can't let you die here too!" Diana shouted. The hand she extended towards Akira began to shake, and she made no attempt to stop it. "Please!"

Light flashed in the distance, and then, in a burst of blood and skin and fire, Diana's right hand was blown off her wrist.

Diana had only half a second to extend her wings, shielding both herself and Akira from the next laser. The archdemon landed across from them softly and without any grandeur. It was here; Diana's time was up; now they were finished, in the same way Diana turned over the last page of a book and set it aside.

The archdemon waved a hand, and then the structural supports of the bridge creaked and shattered. Suddenly, Diana was falling, and she could save herself, and she could save Akira, but she did not know about the rest. She might have taken one or two hands and tossed them out to safety, before the metal and concrete came crashing down on everything, into the water, which now foamed with anger and fury.

She felt herself sinking, before she grabbed Akira and burst out of the waters. She had to get to the shore. Carrying Akira in the one arm that wasn't mutilated, she sped away from the archdemon, weaving left and right as lasers zoomed over her shoulders. She was almost at the shore when a laser struck her in the back, launching her and Akira forwards. They landed with a violent crash on the rocky shore. Akira was flung from her arm.

Diana struggled to stand and regain her senses. Next to her, she could see Akira doing the same. Slowly, Diana began crawling towards her, willing her legs to move, willing her knees to straighten. "Akira," she called out. "Akira!"

Akira was bent over on her knees. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Akira said. "I couldn't do anything."

A vivid, clear image flashed through Diana's mind. It filled her with fire and lightning, it painted color back onto her face. She remembered Akira's face, full of hope and life. She remembered Akira's words—I believe in you. She remembered that once, she had not feared. There was something so precious and wondrous in this world that Diana would go to any lengths to recapture it.

Diana stood.

"Listen," she said, limping over to Akira. "We're going to live. I can't be fucking bothered to consider a world where we both don't live, okay? Don't waste my stupid time; I'm too tired already. Both of us are going to live."

Akira looked up at her. She saw the fear and exhaustion in Diana's eyes; she saw how her back was bent, and her knees unsteady, and her costume torn and dirtied. She saw how Diana's soul gem had darkness inside it.

"You believed in me," Diana said, "in my darkest moments. And I believe in you. Please, please, don't give up on me. I love you, more than anything, more than I love life, more than I fear death."

Akira's face shook and then broke. She began sobbing. Above her, a Reaper drone descended. A magical girl leapt out and sped towards them.

"Diana!" May shouted, landing beside her. "We need to get you out of here. That demon is coming."

"No. I stay," Diana said. "I have to stay."

May's face pinched in pain, and then she nodded. "I-I understand."

"Take Akira and leave. Get as far away as possible."

"Yes."

"Thank you for everything."

"Y-yes."

Diana knelt down and grabbed Akira's hand. "Do you still…do you still believe in me?"

Through her tears, Akira forced out one word: "Yes."

Diana leaned forwards and kissed her—a second, an instant lost immediately in time. Then, she turned away as Akira and Diana went back into the drone and flew away. Diana watched the drone ascend, back into the ruined city, away from her. She had sent Akira away again.

Yield, Servant.

Diana turned around to face the voice. The archdemon advanced up the riverbank slowly and deliberately, its feet ghosting over the muddied earth. Light grew behind the archdemon's head until it formed a blinding halo. There were no more drones streaking across the night sky; there were no more flares. Diana couldn't hear any plasma cannons being fired. She couldn't see any brightly colored dots against the night sky. Had they stopped fighting, or were they all dead? Either way, the battle was over.

Your spirit's broken. You've lost.

She had told Maria D'Arco—they needed to hold the line, no matter what the cost. No matter how many of the brave and the faithful died, they needed to hold the line. No matter how badly bloodied humanity became, they needed to hold the line. Otherwise they would all be cowards. And they had—they had fought bravely, hadn't they?

You can rest now, Servant. You don't have to struggle. You don't have to fear anymore. There's a reward waiting us all at the end of our journey, and you're about to be granted that reward. Don't you want peace?

What about ignominious defeat? What then? The last stand at Rackba still had to be noble. They would still say of the irreplaceable fallen, the officers who had chosen to stay behind—they died on their feet.

Diana remembered the flesh strewn across the bridge and shook.

There isn't any point in fighting on. I don't want to kill you while you're struggling. I'm an emissary of Hashal, after all. Hashal will welcome you gently and kindly. There's no reason for me to be harsh about it.

There was still that drone with May and Akira on it. There were still some magical girls alive in this city somewhere. She was still alive. And in orbit, Yoshio's fleet still did battle. The line was still there behind her, no matter how much she wanted to believe that it had raced in front of her long ago. She could choose to run once but she would have to choose to keep fighting forever, and she still hadn't chosen to run.

"Fuck, don't you think I tried to convince myself of that?" Diana said. "Komm, süßer Tod—all that horseshit? It's too easy. No matter how much I try telling myself that there's nothing left to fight for, I find something. You haven't won yet. You won't win until you've killed me, because fuck it all, I will not surrender the will to fight."

Diana spread her wings and dodged out to the side just as the demon fired at her. The shot took off the rest of her right arm, but it missed her soul gem. Then, Diana sped towards the archdemon, and this time it was she who grabbed the demon by the robes and lifted it up into the air.

You can't even draw your bow.

The river exploded as Diana spiked the archdemon down into the waters. Foam and spray circled the air. Diana had been caught in a typhoon once, but in her boat, she had known how to survive the storm. She understood the waters. They were destruction by inches, unfathomable, impossible to encompass, defying any boundary—beautiful.

Water from the river was lifted high into the air, drawn towards the stump of Diana's arm. It began to glow and take the rough shape of a new limb. For one insane instant, Diana felt invincible. The archdemon had blown half her head off, it had killed her friends, it had killed half the magical girls on this planet. It had tormented her in her dreams, it had taunted her with her words, it would not die and it would not relent. But even now, when it had tried to take her bow from her, when it had tried to make her unable to fight, it could not stop her. Diana Markos looked at her glowing arm, saw her face reflected in it, and remembered that the Goddess watched over her.

The archdemon rose from the river, water pouring from its form. You continue to defy your destiny.

"No," Diana said. "This is our destiny. Humanity was hurled kicking and screaming into an uncaring, brutal world, filled with monsters like you. And for the millennia we've been here, it's been our destiny to fight the ugly, awful fight. It is our destiny to struggle."

Not this time. You can kill every single demon on this planet and in orbit, but so long as I draw breath, not a single human will escape this system alive. No miracles will save you.

Then, both the archdemon and the Servant turned their heads upwards. At first, Diana thought that it was dawn. And then, as demon battleships came crashing down from the heavens, fire pouring from their sides, chased by human ships, Diana realized—Yoshio had broken through, hours before he had promised, and suddenly everything changed. The light that Diana had mistaken for the sun shone across the sky again, and the Winepress cannon obliterated another demon battleship. Hierocracy cruisers poured out of the sky. Diana couldn't see it, but she knew that they were unloading salvo after salvo of planetary siege missiles onto demon positions. What she could see was the aftermath—flashes of light, bursting one after another after another, like fireworks. As the demons were blasted apart, the miasma cleared from the city, and telepathic channels were restored. Immediately, destroyers began moving to evacuate the city's survivors.

There was one thing between the Hierocracy and safety, standing before Diana right now. She notched an arrow. Now, she believed completely in salvation.

The earth shook as Diana and the archdemon clashed. Diana blocked out all telepathic communications, calling for a retreat, directing orders for her to evacuate. The archdemon knew that this was its only chance at preventing the humans from escaping. She had to deny the archdemon that chance. She had to chase it out of the city.

They sped along the surface of the river, weaving around each other, constantly looking for a weakness to exploit. Diana could feel the light of her soul gem pulse. She wasn't anywhere near capable of unleashing the sort of battleship-destroying firepower that she could at full capacity, but she could put up a fight. She could feel that the archdemon was still weakened from its earlier injuries. It had tried to deliver a swift killing blow, and instead had to contend with a drawn-out melee.

Suddenly, Diana felt a familiar feeling against her face, and remembered the obvious—all rivers led to an ocean. The vast expanse of water welcomed her with open arms. She could see, on its face, every smiling mother who welcomed their war-weary daughters back from war. She could taste the salt in the air, a humble flavor, pungent and homely.

There in that ocean, Diana saw peace, the respite from war, and death, the release from life. It beckoned her still, drawing her nearer, yet Diana could still feel the cold grasp of fear on her heart, so she made a compromise. She would enter the grand unknown gripping as tightly onto the right to life as she could.

Diana opened up communications with Yoshio. Yoshio, listen carefully.

Retreat! This is an order!

The demon that I am fighting can bring down this entire fleet. It will kill everyone if it is not stopped. It needs to be stopped. If I let off it for even a second, it'll be gone and you'll be doomed. That's your briefing. You have my coordinates. You know what to do. Fire on my mark. Until then, shut up and let me concentrate.

You will not martyr yourself!

Yoshio, please.

There was silence.

Regret washed over Diana, which was to be expected. She had always known that she would never live a life so full that she could die perfectly content. But now, Diana broke a promise. She had committed the old idiot's mistake of making a promise she couldn't keep. But it was okay—it was okay—she just hadn't been smart enough or lucky enough.

Diana didn't want to die.

The demon had separated itself from her and was bombarding her from above with lasers. Diana notched an arrow, dodged one laser and then sped upwards. She dodged another, and then she was halfway to the demon. The final laser came too quickly for her to avoid, and it streaked across her back, severing her wings of light from her body. Diana felt gravity take hold of her.

Her inertia carried her to the demon, and when she felt the tip of her arrow press against the underside of the archdemon's flesh—it was surprisingly soft; the demon was only mortal—Diana let loose. The archdemon was launched further upwards, and then Diana began to fall.

She remembered ignoring a transmission from her father yelling at her to come home, as she had navigated a storm in her boat. She knew what she was doing. She remembered losing a painting, just flat-out forgetting where it was, and spending an entire day looking for it. She remembered how overjoyed she was when she found it, like she had lost part of her mind, and then the painting made her whole and sane again. She remembered teaching her brother how to sketch, one hot and static summer afternoon with bugs buzzing around her ears and boredom coiled in her heart.

She remembered—red and white, gold, gray, orange—

Diana met the ocean, and in her mind, she whispered, now. In orbit, the Maelstrom's Winepress cannon finished its charging sequence and fired.

She could see only the outline of the archdemon's form as it was utterly obliterated, and then the light and the water took her.

-x-

The serpent slithered alongside the body of a girl, washed ashore on a ruined planet. It looked with black, imperturbable eyes upon the girl's form, noted the faint light that yet glowed at the girl's chest, and then slithered away.

There were still miles and miles to go, crawling under baking sun, trembling under freezing moon, and the serpent whispered, "Not yet."

-x-

I'm still alive.

Diana had woken up behind a metal coffin, with nanobots crawling over her skin, and her soul gem trapped behind a lattice of grief cubes. It was the best medical technology the Hierocracy could provide to accelerate the regeneration process. They knew that the Winepress cannon had pulverized her physical form. The body that had been found washed up on the shore had all the tell-tale biological signs of magical creation.

I cheated death, Diana thought, but not without some irony. She knew that no such thing could be done.

Her legs dangled in the open air of the Maelstrom's docking bay. Drones and transport ships and even destroyers streamed in and out of the dreadnought's massive hold. They were still in low atmosphere over Rackba, completing evacuations from the city. Diana looked down at the planet, its features now barely distinguishable from the air, where she had somehow managed to live. Maybe the regeneration had to do with her wish? If she could not die, then she had nothing to fear. It was a fanciful, vain thought.

Everybody on the ship was busy. They were busy trying to heal the wounded with the limited supplies of grief cubes that remained, busy trying to complete evacuations of the planet, busy trying to regroup the Armada forces after the orbital battle, and busy trying to grieve the dead. Several other planets held by heretics had erupted in a flurry of demonic activity over the past few days, just as Rackba had. At the same time, demon fleets from interstellar space were closing in. Another attack, this time in space, was bound to happen. The demons were going to take their revenge, and the Fleet of Mercy was still far away.

"Diana."

Christine's normally pristine red-and-gold armor was pockmarked and blackened. Her expression was familiar, because Diana had seen it in the eyes of every magical girl on Rackba, and it was probably on her own face as well. Christine was tired. There had been a fierce battle in orbit. Even with boarders taking out as many ships as possible, and even with the dreadnought's Winepress hammering away at demon positions, the demons had superior numbers and comparable firepower. It had been a miracle that Yoshio had broken through so early at all.

"You're still alive," Diana said, "which is good."

Christine nodded.

"I'm still alive," Diana continued, "which is strange."

"Why is that? We won. You won, Diana."

"I didn't win anything."

Christine shook her head. "You should see Yoshio. He's furious, of course, that you were willing to sacrifice yourself like that, but without that sacrifice he knows that his fleet would have been destroyed by that demon. You were a hero."

Diana felt herself shiver. "I'm no hero."

She remembered the body of a Lyudian woman, crumpled on the floor, her mouth hanging slightly open and her eyes wide and glassy. In the center of her chest the flesh was burnt and twisted, and blood poured from her wounds onto the floor, soaking into her clothing, running through the cracks. The woman's daughter stared at her and screamed, and Diana just wanted to join her.

"I'm no hero," she repeated.

"Diana?" Christine placed an armored hand on Diana's shoulder. "What happened?"

Diana couldn't bring herself to speak. She was safe now, in the belly of the Hierocracy's beast, surrounded by steel and holy fire. Those parts of her that were cut off and left bleeding on the planet behind them would stay there forever. She couldn't speak of what had been done there. She could only suffer to bear the wounded remains of her soul.

"There have been new magical girl recruits from the refugees. One of them mentioned you to me," Christine said.

Diana started in confusion. "Rebecca?"

"A new Armada magical girl."

"Her brother died down there."

Christine shrugged. "To avenge and remember are strong motivators. Almost as strong as faith and hope."

It didn't make sense. Rebecca had hated the Hierocracy and the Goddess. But then, Diana remembered the sight of Alexander's mangled body. She kept telling herself that he had died with dignity. If she were in Rebecca's place, Diana supposed that she would want to die with dignity too. She would meet her god with something behind her, with her life carrying some weight. She could point to the oath she swore to the Goddess and the soul gem in her hands as proof that she had lived, that she was worthy of death. "I guess it adds up," Diana said.

"We need the recruits," Christine said. "We don't have enough grief cubes to sustain all the blackened soul gems on this ship. Eventually we'll start taking losses."

Diana's heart skipped a beat. She hadn't seen Akira at all on the ship. Hadn't her soul gem been depleted? Diana leapt to her feet and grabbed Christine. "Have you seen Akira?"

"Akira? No. Diana, this is one dreadnought in a massive fleet. We can't look everywhere."

Yoshio! Are you there?

Yoshio's telepathic voice was tense and constrained. Christine was right; he was angry. Yes. What is it?

Check databases. Have any grief cube resources been allocated to Akira Tanaka?

No, they haven't. Why do you ask?

Diana didn't reply. Instead, she called out again, Akira!

There was no answer. Diana turned to Christine. "She's down there."

"Diana, that's impossible," Christine said. "We're running low on grief cubes. It makes sense that some people wouldn't be treated yet."

Panic was filling Diana. "If you had seen her on Rackba, you would've known—she was nearing the last reserves of her soul gem. Fuck! Why didn't I check? I saw her! She looked dead. If she were in this fleet, she would've been one of the first to get grief cubes. Christine, I have to go look for her."

"You're not going down there."

"If anybody asks, lie."

Christine's sword appeared in her hands in an instant. Without hesitation, Christine raised it towards Diana. "You're not going down there. I won't let you die a pointless death, Diana."

"I killed the demons down there once. I can do it again. Christine, please. I don't want to fight you, and I know you won't actually fight me. So drop the bullshit and let me through. I need to find her. If I lose her, it—I can't let that happen."

Christine's sword wavered. "You and she…?"

"Let me go, Christine."

Slowly, Christine lowered her sword. "I do this because I believe in you."

"I know that this might be an enormous mistake, but that's something I have to accept. I might be betraying your belief, but I've done that enough times already that I don't think it matters anymore."

Christine stepped forwards and wrapped Diana in a hug. "We can't be mahou shoujo if we don't occasionally express irrational emotion. Come back alive."

"Thank you," Diana said, her voice muffled against Christine's armor. Then, she pulled away, and stepped into the open air. Spreading her wings, she flew down to the planet. The shadow of the Maelstrom stretched across Rackba's surface, a dark scar across burning cities and fields stained with blood. Diana knew that Akira was down there. If her connection to the Goddess meant anything, if she was something more than a regular human being, like what was said in all the scripture, like what was believed by all the Hierocracy, then she could know this. It was the same deep, certain feeling of knowing that her destiny had been to stand and fight. For all her life Diana had stumbled and crawled in the blackness of a cave, fearing whatever lay ahead, and now the earth shook and the cave crumbled; the light flooded in.

Now she knew. The planet had taught her what death was.

With her mind, Diana shouted, Akira! There was no answer. The remnants of the demons floated aimlessly, scattered across the surface of the planet. Yoshio's fleet had blasted away their army, but no laser cannon could bring the dead back to life. Wherever there had been life on Rackba, now there were only a handful of wandering demons waiting to die.

Diana spotted, once again, the black serpent cutting through the city. The sky was beginning to lighten as Rackba turned to face the sun, orange and bloated, hanging in the distance. As she flew closer to the city, Diana could see individual corpses lying on the ground. They had fallen from the tree of life, and gently, softly, they had landed to rest.

Goddess, please, Diana thought. She would give up anything, toss it into a fire and watch it ascend to the heavens in inky smoke, like the barbarian pagans, if only the Goddess would accept the offering. If the Goddess were truly an emissary of hope, then she would grant Diana's wish. Right now her life was dangling on a thread made of hope and desperation, and—and—

Akira was kneeling by the riverbank where Diana had last seen her, as if no time had passed from then and now. Diana swooped down from the sky and ran towards her. When she reached her, she grabbed Akira by the shoulders and shook her. "What are you doing?!" she shouted. "We have to go back. Come on!"

"No," Akira said. "I am not going back."

Akira stretched her hand out, and in that black rock she held was all of Diana's weakness and all of her fear.

Akira gave a weak, broken smile. "You see? There was never any question for me. I'm not strong like you or the others. I was always weak. That's why you had to send me away. Because I live in a world of dreams, and I can't handle the real world."

Diana turned around, summoned her bow, and shot the first demon she saw. The grief cube dissolved. She shot another, and another, and another, watching as the cubes faded away, running into nothingness between her fingers. Diana screamed.

"Why?" she asked, holding Akira.

"I know we don't have enough grief cubes," Akira said. "I didn't want any to be wasted on me."

"Wasted?" Diana repeated. "I would give my life for you! Humanity can burn! The Goddess can fall out of the sky for all I care! What have either of them ever done for us? What have they done for you? You were everything!"

Akira began to shake, and then tears started pouring down her face. "I'm sorry, Diana. I couldn't…I couldn't do anything when they killed Alexander in front of me. I'm useless. Why do I deserve to live?"

Diana watched in horror as the darkness inside Akira's soul gem grew. Slowly, she drew Akira's trembling body closer to her own. "I love you. Isn't that good enough?"

Streaks of pink were beginning to penetrate the horizon. Diana said, "I love you, and I wanted to keep you safe, but I was an idiot. If I knew, I'd have never…never made you die alone. I would've begged for you to stay by my side forever. If you're not alone, that makes it worth living. Doesn't it?"

Through her tears, Akira managed to choke out, "I don't know. I can't keep living, but I don't want to die. I don't want to be left alone."

"No," Diana said, "you're not alone. I'll be with you."

The realization that Akira was going to die settled neatly in Diana's mind. There was nothing she could do to stop it, nothing, will all her power and all her strength. The future lay ahead of her, a wasteland drained of color, leaving behind only howling wind and swirling sand. What remained for those who were left behind, alone? For Diana, she stood at the present watching as that wasteland barreled towards her, ready to sweep her into it.

Diana was filled with a sudden urge to defy the wasteland. "I'll be with you forever," she said. "Even death—even death—it won't stop us from being together. Get it? We'll die, but we'll be immortal."

Akira grasped Diana's hand and squeezed. The hand was familiar. Diana had felt it when she had woken up after the archdemon's attack. She remembered its shape, its texture, and its warmth. That hand and the memories she had of it were what still tied her to the world, to another human being. The blue rock on her chest wasn't the only thing tying her to life. The hand did so as well. All along, what had she been afraid of? Had she been afraid that the molecules that made up her body would organize themselves in such a way so to make a dead body instead of a living one? Had she been afraid that the rock that was her soul would shatter and disappear?

"Forever," Akira said. "That's a promise?"

"Yeah, it is. By your side, forever."

"All right," Akira said. She smiled, even as the last bits of light in her soul gem were extinguished. "I was so afraid of that dream, where I died alone. But…"

Diana shook her head. "I couldn't let that happen. When I saw you on the bridge, I was so afraid, because—because I thought, what if she's dead? Because then, I'd have failed you. But…but like this, at least—at least you won't be alone. I don't care if another archdemon comes, I'll be with you until—"

Diana couldn't say the words, but Akira nodded, absolving her. The tears on Akira's face were beginning to dry. "Thank you."

"I love you so much," Diana said. "Don't you realize? I would have never left you. You were warmth and light, I—I couldn't leave you. You were never alone."

Akira didn't answer. There was no sound. There was no light. Akira's body faded away.

What had she been afraid of? Diana knew the answer. She had been afraid of this. Now Akira was dead, and the wasteland was all around her.

She felt the tears burst through her face and stream down her cheeks. There was no hand, even if it was cold and lifeless, for her to hold. And then, Diana looked down and saw the she held a lock of black hair.

She looked up into the sky as the sun rose, and the planet turned. She thought that she might see wings of light descending down from the heavens, but there was nothing, only a blank sky, uncaring and indifferent, only a distant sun, harsh and unforgiving. There was nothing, nothing in the wasteland, and Diana realized that that was what she should have put in the mosaic—nothing. She should have put emptiness. She should have made a world where the only thing that mattered was the other hand.

Diana kneeled down in the dirt and sobbed.

-x-

(i have always aspired to be a healing-type author)

(really, really sorry for the huge delay in this chapter coming out. i can safely say at this point that we are nearing the final chapters of the story. the end is in sight! we are also done with rackba, which is, by the way, an anagram of ackbar, because the planet is a trap. i'm a comedic genius.)

(the next chapter is probably going to come out some time in early december at best or early january at worst. in terms of writing, this year I'm sort of hampered by the whole apply to university dealie. also some other meaningless stuff. and other writing projects that don't get posted here.)

(oh, by the way, last seen tethered is probably going to be finished after this story is over. the two stories have…sort of some thematic relation? but not much. not reading it is not a huge loss.)

(if you liked this chapter, or if you're a new reader who's finished the 100k+ words i've written so far, please leave a review! or if like you have any criticism. or if you really really hated it you can still, like, vent your anger. i'd appreciate anything!)