Chapter 53: At the Shrine of Friendship

TSAB L-Class Inspection Cruiser Arthra

The Lighthouse

"Come on, Akemi! You can't do this to us! Please, you have to stop!"

Gurio Umino's plea went unheard. His infant daughter Akemi squalled and screamed and hollered just as she had been for the last two hours, flailing her tiny arms and legs. She didn't look to be stopping anytime soon, if ever. The scientific part of Umino's mind marveled at her lung capacity, to say nothing of her stamina. Where that came from, he didn't know, for it definitely wasn't from his side of her genetics. Briefly he wondered if Naru might not have passed on her temper and stubbornness through hers... but then he dismissed that thought, because he truly did love Naru with all his heart, and parenting was difficult for both of them.

He truly loved Akemi as well... he just wished that she would stop her tantrum before his splitting headache escalated into a full migraine.

Naru was taking a nap, safely ensconced in hers and Umino's "quiet room", which had been magically soundproofed by the TSAB mages to give her a place where she (and Umino) could rest without interruption if they needed it. Once Akemi's colic problem became common knowledge throughout the ship, the mages came back and soundproofed the rest of the walls and bulkheads as well, for the benefit and sanity of those in the neighboring quarters.

"Look here, Akemi!" said Umino, snatching up one of her favorite stuffed toys from the floor and waving it over her crib. He shouted to be heard, but the racket all but drowned him out. "It's your ducky, Ahiru-chan! Don't you want your ducky?"

Still she wailed, apparently not caring one bit about Ahiru-chan or anything else.

"Quack quack quack!" said Umino. "Quack quack... quack?" His valiant attempts petered out, there was no getting through. Gingerly he reached into the crib and placed Ahiru-chan at Akemi's side, in hopes that maybe holding on to her would help.

Seconds later, Ahiru-chan hit the ceiling over the crib, hurled with a ferocity that Umino had to admit was impressive.

Seized by sudden inspiration, he sprinted for the adjoining kitchen, and came back with his hands over his face and his glasses in his pocket. "A-ke-mi," he said in muffled singsong as he turned away from her, "look at Daddy! Look!" With that he pivoted back and waggled his tongue out, while also stretching his cheeks and eyelids. The two chopsticks shoved into his nostrils were an emergency measure, an embellishment brought on by desperation. Perhaps it would be best not to inform Naru about this one, he thought. "Ack-thpppt!" he said, shaking his head vigorously. "BLEARRGH! BORK-BORK-BORK! HARGBLE!"

No response. If anything, she only got louder.

Umino massaged his aching temples and wracked his brains. All of the standard methods had been failures: he tried feeding her, burping her, singing to her, changing her, bathing her, the works. Waking Naru up for help was an absolute last resort, but this time he doubted whether even she could do anything. "Oh God," he said, inclining his eyes to the ceiling. "Help me, please!"

With suspiciously apropos timing, the front door's chime rang, almost inaudible over Akemi's outburst. Umino ran for the door and jabbed the open button... one could be forgiven for thinking he was trying to escape.

The sudden blast of noise from within their quarters did precisely nothing to shake the girl standing in the corridor outside. Wearing the same lack of expression she almost always wore, Homura Akemi waited patiently while Umino stepped out of the door frame and into blessed quiet. Her cold violet eyes scanned over his disheveled state: his rumpled pajamas, his five-o'clock shadow, his frazzled hair, the murky bags beneath his eyes. "This appears to be a poor time to visit," she said, shrewd as ever. "I should return later."

"Homura—" Umino began, then added hurriedly as her eyes narrowed, "-san! Homura-san! What brings you here?"

"The baby," said Homura simply. "I wanted to visit her, but—"

"Really?!" That word slipped out before Umino could stop himself. Since the day Akemi was born, none of the Uminos had seen hide nor hair of her namesake. For whatever reason, Homura kept her distance from them... embarrassment, maybe, or maybe the rumors were true and she really was as antisocial as they came. It didn't matter. Now that she was here, a wild idea pushed to the front of Umino's aching brain. "Homura-san, maybe you could calm her down!"

Anyone else would have blanched; Homura had the self-control to dial it down to a split-second grimace of mild discomfort. "I'm not—"

"Please, Homura-san, just try!" Sinking to his knees, Umino actually reached out to grasp her shoulders before some measure of sanity returned to him and he reconsidered. If prostrating himself at her feet was what it took, though... Down he went. "You're my last hope!"

Homura tossed back her long curtain of sable black hair. "If I must," she said, pressing past him and into the hurricane. She paused with one foot through the doorway and looked back. "Umino, I trust you are aware that you have chopsticks up your nose?"

"Gnagh!" The sound he made as he gingerly removed them was throaty, nasal, and mortified. All things considered, it was probably the most appropriate response to that question.

On she went, striding across the room with brisk confidence until she stood over Akemi's crib. Umino followed close behind, hands clamped over his ears. He almost missed what Homura said over the racket.

"Child," she intoned, gazing down at the squealing baby from on high. She barely even raised her voice, but the tone was as commanding as they came. "You're being an annoyance. Stop it."

Akemi hiccuped, sniffled, and settled back onto her blanket. Teal eyes, so like her mother's, opened wide as if in recognition, and her lips spread into a cherubic smile.

In a ritual as curious as it was pointless, Umino put his glasses back on, took them off, cleaned them on his sleeve, and put them on again. "Y-you—" he stammered, hushed so as not to break the spell. "You did it... I can't believe it. You did it."

"I was asked to," said Homura, tossing back her hair again.

"Th-thank you, Homura-san!" Umino was seized by a powerful urge to hug the girl, until once again he thought the better of it. Instead, he bowed as low as he could manage. That wasn't very far; being a code jockey paid the bills, but the lifestyle was most unkind to the small of his back. "Seriously, thank you! If there's any way that Naru and I can repay you—"

"That will not be necessary."

"Even so!" Rising from his bow with a slight amount of difficulty, Umino fixed her with a hopeful stare. "Listen, I hate to ask this of you, but... since she's settled down, do you think you could watch her for a half hour or so while Naru and I get some sleep? Please?"

Homura's eyes widened a fraction of an inch. "You can't be serious."

"It'll be fine, you're so good with her already! I think she really likes you! Look, it's easy, I'll show you how..."

There followed a brief but intense crash course in the basics of child care, only occasionally interrupted by Homura's feeble protests. At this point, Umino knew it all by rote, so even through his headache he was able to give clear and concise instructions. Not once did the thought cross his frayed, sleep-deprived mind that leaving the (former) self-described Devil alone with his baby might not be the best course of action... but the desperation of a first-time parent is not to be underestimated.

"... and she likes it if you gently pat her back and sing to her," Umino finished. A giddy elation built up inside him at the thought of his well-deserved reward. In true Japanese fashion, he had persevered through trials that should have destroyed him, thanks to his ingenuity and heroic willpower. His sleep would be the sleep of the just. "I think that's about it."

"I do not sing."

He had been subconsciously inching closer and closer to the door of the quiet room during the final portions of his instructions. "Don't worry, I know you'll be just fine. If you have any trouble at all, you can call Chief Nurse Yugo or Sister Impreza on the comm, they'll be right over. Just a half hour or so, it'll go by like that. Thanks again, Homura-san, you're a lifesaver!" The door whooshed open behind him; he staggered through it and was dead to the world.

Utterly confused by the events of the past few minutes, Homura stood still as stone, the baby nestled securely in her arms. She was almost positive that her purpose for coming aboard the Arthra was to visit the child, and nothing more. Her plan was simple and straightforward: find the Uminos' quarters, verify the baby's good health, perhaps say a few token words to the parents, and then leave as soon as possible. How babysitting figured into that, and why she didn't argue harder against it, she had no idea.

Akemi cooed and squirmed in her grip. She was heavy, but not uncomfortably so.

Homura wrinkled her brows. "You've caused me a great deal of trouble, you know."

"Gya!" Whether Akemi understood or not—no, definitely not—she cheerfully nuzzled against Homura's breast, a small, soft bundle of strangely inviting warmth.

"This is ridiculous," said Homura to herself. "I should call for Nurse Yugo right now... There's no reason for me to stay. None at all." Her violet eyes scanned the room. The furnishings and decorations were relatively sparse; when one had free access to replicators, there presumably wasn't much need to leave things lying around. A couch, a holo-monitor projector, a few chairs, and the crib. There was a rather glaring omission here, she noted. No sign of the item she had in mind. Arching an eyebrow in distaste, she pivoted to face the glossy black panel that was the replicator housing and voiced her request.

Once it was done, she lowered herself into the seat of an old-fashioned rocking chair, constructed precisely to her specifications. Its cushions conformed to the shape of her body, and her slightest movement set it in motion. Satisfied, she allowed herself a rare moment of praise for having such a practical idea. Infants responded well to gentle, repetitive stimuli, they found it relaxing.

In her arms, Akemi cooed and snuggled up to her. Faint wisps of her wavy red hair brushed against Homura's neck, they smelled of something pleasantly mellow. Soon, the baby's eyelids fluttered shut.

Homura held her close and tried to relax as well. After a moment, she spoke. "I'll be honest with you." The idea that the baby could understand her was absurd. Laughable, even. "I don't know why I'm here. We share nothing in common except our names. We only know of each other's existence by circumstance. Apart from instinct, I don't have any attachment to you. I don't feel anything for you at all... except pity, perhaps, because you were born into a reality that's as cruel as it is uncaring. It can and will make you and your loved ones suffer terribly for no reason. Growing up and trying to find your purpose in such a world... I don't envy you."

Akemi yawned and sighed. Her breathing was slow and even.

After a long time, Homura spoke again, in barely more than a whisper. "I used to have a purpose, Akemi," she said. "A mission that defined my existence. I told myself that as long as I devoted myself and everything that I was to that purpose, to that person... I could endure any hardship, suffer any terrible fate. For all those years, everything that I did was all for her.

"And now she's all but lost to me. My purpose has been ripped away, and without it, I'm..." She searched for the right word. "... wavering. I find myself conflicted in ways I never thought were possible. These feelings that I have... I can't ignore them or pretend they don't exist, and I don't have the right to act on them after what I've done." She closed her eyes and rocked back and forth. "I want to, more than I can say, but my desires could just as easily lead us back down the same path I tread before. All that misery, all that suffering... No one deserves that, least of all her."

Silence.

"Am I being selfish? Is it wrong to love her and want to protect her?" said Homura into that silence, which seemed to swell until it was deeper and heavier than the room that held it. "Should the Devil be allowed to protect anything? Or will I taint something beautiful by the act of desiring it?"

There was no answer.

She didn't know how much later it was when the door to the outside corridor whooshed open, interrupting her broodings. Not for nothing was Homura renowned for her nerves of steel; her grip on Akemi never faltered in the slightest. She regarded the wild-eyed, heaving figure stumbling through the frame with only the faintest hint of alarm... it was the Stranger, wearing the form she now recognized as Cure Echo. The Echo-Stranger was supposed to be providing support to the Tigers team in Vertex One's Azabu-Juuban. If she was here and not with them...

"Something's gone wrong," Homura said aloud. She gently shifted the baby to one shoulder and made to stand up. "And I suppose, you being you, you're unable to tell me what it is."

The Echo-Stranger fixed her with pleading golden eyes, leaped across the room in one bound, and snatched up Homura's free hand in both of hers. Her lips parted...

*****

-VERTEX ONE: 15.556984-

Azabu-Juuban, Minato Ward, Tokyo

Thirteen, that's thirteen!

As she thought this, Joker's fist slammed into Sakura Kinomoto's cheek yet again. Arcana's shields held, for the moment, but the punch felt weighty as a cinder block, and was delivered with far too much force to fully absorb. Soon her cheek would begin to swell, adding to the collection of bruises she had already acquired. She rolled with it as best she could to minimize the damage, as Toya and Nanoha taught her. A few more hits like that, though, and her shields would collapse altogether.

Moving with the inertia, she ducked under Joker's outstretched arm and hammered his gut twice more. Fifteen... She was growing used to the pulses of heat that accompanied each blow. Two hits were all she could manage this time; a roundhouse kick came sailing in from her side, and she barely threw up her arm in time to block it. The impact propelled her lengthwise across the street and through a storefront window. Glittering shards of glass fell about her in a musical downpour. She groaned, shaking her head to clear away the cobwebs... It was a salad bar she now lay in, judging by the decor. Of all the places.

Glass crunched underfoot as Joker approached her, glowing cyan. The FIGHT Card's abilities suited him well, too well. In terms of raw power, he had her outmatched... but she would still fight. She had to fight, for the sake of the mission, the sake of everything. Fifteen, she thought. Just a little under halfway there, right? Come on, Sakura-chan, you can't get the math wrong now!

Joker's shadow fell over her. "I admit, cherie, I am impressed," he said, his sneer suggesting anything but. "You never would have lasted this long back when we first met. Whoever's been training you, they've done an exemplary job. However, much as I love to trade blows with you..." Here he tilted his neck at a sharp angle, which made a nauseating crack. "It's beginning to bore me."

No. They couldn't afford that. Drastic action was required. Sakura pushed herself to her knees and clenched her fists inside Arcana's gloves. "I'm not... finished yet...!"

"Yes, yes," said Joker. He waved a hand, dismissive. "That, and other trite hero banter. Why don't you be a good girl and lie—"

"DASH!" Against anyone else, she would have found sneak attacks abhorrent. But this was Joker... The faces of Tomoyo, of Shaoran, of her corrupted Cards, of Alph, and of her lost friends and family flared up like torches in her mind's eye. Her feet were a blur, her shoes could have caught fire with friction. It was only a brief burst of speed, but it was enough: she moved in a half-circle from her starting position, so that she now stood behind Joker. With the faces of the lost burning bright within, she pummeled Joker's unprotected back with six rapid-fire punches. Twenty-one! Her gloves surged with new warmth as Joker crumpled, then righted himself, outraged.

His claws lashed at her face and midsection. She used the final vestiges of DASH's burst of power to scoot backwards and out of the way. Feeling much heavier and more sluggish than a moment ago, she could do nothing but stand her ground and try to dodge as best she could as Joker fell upon her like a whirling dervish.

"You..." Eyes blazing black, Joker snarled at her. "You are beginning... to be... an annoyance, Cardcaptor!" Another slash of his claws, two punches to her sternum, three savage whip kicks to her right shin.

And then, it was like two wires touching together to produce a spark. She knew these moves. When he swung at her with the next roundhouse, she bent backward to avoid it. Two straights and an upper were next, she saw them coming and weaved out of the way of them both. With FIGHT on his side, Joker had her out-powered, yes... but she could see that now he was largely letting the Card attack for him instead of using her to bolster his own skill, and therein lay the tactical error. She knew these moves because they were FIGHT's signature techniques, not Joker's... and before she was corrupted and stolen, FIGHT freely shared everything she knew with Sakura, her Master and her friend. Just because she almost never used FIGHT didn't mean that her knowledge and experience was wasted or forgotten.

A hook, three jabs, a low sweep, and a cross. She blocked or avoided them all, seeing each move in her mind well before Joker could execute it. For the first time in her life, Sakura felt happy at the prospect of finishing a fight, instead of wishing for it to be over as soon as possible. If this kept up, she could not only survive, but win!

But then, she reflected soberly, just winning wasn't the plan. Nanoha warned her during the planning stages of this operation: at any moment, Joker might realize what they were actually up to and attempt to break off the fight. The mission depended on keeping him here, focused solely on Sakura until the time was right. Sakura told Nanoha that she was willing to do everything it took to remain Joker's sole person of interest, even if that meant letting him injure her.

Already she could sense his fury billowing up within him like a cloud of toxic gas. Dodging his attacks enraged him, and his rage made him that much more determined to beat her. However, if she pushed it too far and made him too angry, he would probably flee the battlefield like a petulant child, rather than allow her the satisfaction of victory. Oh, shoot, she thought, her stomach tightening into a knot. This is really gonna hurt, isn't it?

So when the next barrage came, though she knew with near-certainty when and where the next ten hits would land... she blocked three of them, and allowed the other seven through her guard, praying that it would look convincing enough. It did hurt, a lot: the last blow drove the air from her lungs, and she collapsed gasping to the street. The heel of Joker's boot hurtled at her face, and as she relaxed her muscles to soften the impact, she thought desperately: Twenty-one...!

*****

Nearby

Simultaneously

Two pairs of eyes watched the battle from the roof of the apartment building across the street. As Sakura took the hit, one of the observers grimaced, and the other outright cringed.

"That bastard..." said the latter, Yuuno Scrya, seething through his teeth. "If we could just go down there and help her—"

The other put his hand on Yuuno's shoulder. "Cool it," said Chrono Harlaown. "She knew the risks going in. We have to stick to Takamachi's plan, or this will all be for nothing."

"I know, I know!"

Both mages wore Output Limiters and had their Barrier Jackets deactivated, at Nanoha's insistence, so the amount of backup they could provide would be negligible even if they were allowed to participate in the fight. That didn't make it any easier for Yuuno to accept watching Joker's cruelty in action.

Yuuno was not a violent soul. He was gentle even for his young age, and though he had seen more than his share of combat experience since meeting Nanoha Takamachi, his fundamental distaste for harming others remained. Contrary to what his fearsome Bureau reputation as "the one who taught Nanoha to fight" would suggest, whenever possible, he looked for peaceful solutions.

Though he hated the very notion of being so aggressive and what that notion said about his character, seeing Joker in the flesh filled him with a burning desire to reduce the harlequin to a greasy smear on the pavement. It had been months now since it happened, but the horror of what that monster had done to Alph was never far from his thoughts. Even worse was the knowledge that he helped Alph and the Operation Batman team execute their mission. In part because of his help, Chrono had a set of scars across his chest, Iona Hikawa was enslaved in both body and mind, Erika Kurumi was missing a leg, the others on the team bore their own untold physical and mental traumas... and Alph, his dear friend and comrade, was gone and never coming back.

Once he learned what had happened to her, his brief stint in the Arthra's brig hardly seemed sufficient punishment. Upon his release, the first thing he pledged to do was to go to Admiral Lindy and demand a harsher sentence, such as she would give to any of her officers who so flagrantly disobeyed orders. Operator Amy Limietta stopped him before he could get halfway to her ready room. "Lindy's suffering enough as it is," Amy gently told him. "Alph was part of her family too... All of us who knew her and worked with her, we're all grieving."

Far from reassuring him, her words made Yuuno feel even more like scum. "But it's my fault that—"

"Right now, fault doesn't matter," Amy said, shaking her head. "I've worked with the captain long enough to know what she'd say to you if she were here: this isn't the time to be doling out sentences. You're almost as much a son to her as Chrono-kun is; it broke her heart to send you to the brig in the first place. Nothing's going to erase what you did, Yuuno-kun, but your punishment is over. You've served your time, so let it go."

Amy was right, of course. After that, for the sake of his own sanity, he faced down the urge to flagellate himself and told it "No." That didn't eliminate his guilt entirely, but it was better than the alternative. When Nanoha first let him in on the details of Operation McGinnis, he immediately volunteered his services, even though his orders were primarily to stay hidden and observe. It didn't matter; whatever small things he could do to ensure that Joker paid for his crimes were more than enough.

Next to him, Chrono turned away from the brawl. His hand wandered to his chest, as it often did these days, and his fingers and thumb traced five diagonal lines from his shoulder to his lowest rib... The medics only asked him once if he wanted the scars left by Alph's claws removed, and they never asked him again. "I know it's hard," he said gruffly. An expression of sympathy from Chrono was a rare thing indeed, but Yuuno didn't comment on it. "But we need to wait until we're sure the objective is complete. If this works like we hope it will, we'll be able to strike him at our leisure."

"I know, I know." Now Yuuno turned away as well. There was only so much he could watch.

The two of them sat back against the lip of the roof, trying to drown out the distant sounds of combat from below. Neither spoke for a few minutes. Yuuno was more than happy to work alongside Chrono when the need arose, but they had never been what anyone would call friends. Despite what would happen if all went according to plan tonight, he doubted that would change in the future.

"Hey, you," said Chrono suddenly.

"Hmm?"

"We should talk. About my sister..."
"Fate?" Now this was peculiar; most of the time, Chrono was so taciturn that getting him to speak up at all outside of work was an event. Offering personal information? That was a new one. And offering personal information now, of all times?

"Yeah," said Chrono. He ran a hand through his dark hair. "I'm not sure if you knew this, but." He swallowed, and his cheeks turned faintly pink in the dim light. "She and Takamachi are... together."

Yuuno stared at him in utter disbelief.

"Just so you know," Chrono continued. His brows wrinkled. "Because I've thought for a while that, because of your history... I thought you might have feelings for Takamachi. In that way."

Was this really happening? Yuuno pinched himself to be sure. It hurt. No dream, that was certain. He wondered if he might be hallucinating. He had been under a lot of stress lately.

Now Chrono's tone took on a hard edge. "I know it's none of my business, but. I just wanted to warn you that my sister's been through enough, especially since this war started. I don't care if you and Takamachi do have history together... You can like her all you want, but if you ever do anything that takes her away from Fate, I swear I'll make you regret it."

Only a heroic amount of self control kept Yuuno from bursting into laughter. "Harlaown," he said, digging a fingernail into his leg on the sly to keep a straight face, "did... did you think I didn't know about Nanoha and Fate?!" If I were deaf, blind, and dumb as a post, I'm pretty sure I'd have figured it out after being around them for a couple days, he generously elected not to add.

"We never talk." Chrono's response was flat as ever. It might have been a joke, if Chrono were the joking type. Which he wasn't. Not at all. "So I wasn't sure."

Yuuno took a deep, steadying breath. "Harlaown," he said, trembling with effort. "I give you my word, here and now, that I will never, ever try to steal Nanoha from Fate. Even if I did like her in that way—and believe me, I'm not saying that I do!—I wouldn't dare get in the way of what they have together. I doubt I could if I tried."

"Good," said Chrono. He raised his eyes and fixed Yuuno with a sharp glare, deadly serious. "Because I'd hunt you down and destroy you if you did, ferret boy."

"I know, I promise I won't—" The snort blew from Yuuno's lips before he could stop himself; fortunately, he was able to blend into an extended coughing fit. He knew Chrono was baring his heart, and of course he sympathized. Laughing at him while he was being so earnest was horrendously inappropriate, but... but. Somehow he didn't realize just how absurd his assumptions were, and that only made it funnier.

"You okay?" Chrono said over his hacking. His eyes narrowed. "You better not die."

Yuuno waved him away. "F-fine, I'll be just fine. You can't get rid of me that easily."

"Let's hope not, for your sake."

*****

Azabu-Juuban Subway System, Underground

Simultaneously

Vines were everywhere, crisscrossing every centimeter below her jawline. Their sickly sweet perfume assaulted her senses. They coiled in multiple loops around her neck, they wrapped her arms down to the last joint of each finger, they compressed her chest, forcing air from her lungs. Soft green fingers in constant motion... constricting relentlessly, searching for any weakness they could exploit. The slow, crushing pressure they exerted on her was horrible, but the draining, the draining was even worse...

Hotaru Tomoe, Sailor Saturn, had never battled with the Dark Kingdom's Youma for any substantial length of time, for the Dark Kingdom predated her awakening as a Sailor Senshi. She knew from the stories the others told her that it was primarily the Youma that stole life energy, but she heard that the Cardians summoned by the Makaiju aliens apparently did it too. Until today, she had been lucky enough to never experience the sensation of having her energy taken. Now, though, she had an intimate understanding of the ordeal they put their victims through.

It wasn't a simple instant theft of energy; it wasn't just there one moment and gone the next. It was a gradual, constant, burning cold pull. Bit by tiny bit, the vines leeched from wherever they touched. Being buried in them gave them a thousand different points of contact with her body, with her skin, and she was acutely aware of her essence being bled out from each and every one, of it being greedily absorbed and funneled to her captor.

"Ahhhh..." Tellu cooed, looming over her with an expression of perverse bliss. In the darkness of the tunnels, lit only by dim red emergency lights since the subways were shuttered by Dead End's occupation, only her upper body and the top part of the grotesque, veiny, podlike thing protruding from her stomach were visible. The rest of the monstrous lower half was shrouded in shadow, but her six arms dispelled whatever illusions one might have that she was still trying to pass as human. "So fresh. So pure..." Hands roamed over her, one after another. "If I'd known a Sailor Senshi's energy felt like this, I would have discarded my old body years ago~!" In its new home, rooted in Tellu's right eye socket, the womanly figure in the center of the Xenian Flower squirmed in a fit of ecstasy. Saturn thought she heard it let out a drunken giggle.

Saturn gritted her teeth and flexed, trying once again to snap the vines. Their vice grip on her only tightened; her vision rippled as yet more of her energy flowed up through the multitude of vines, visible from within the plant flesh as patterns of cloudy light. More of that awful sensation, squeezing and burning and freezing at once, making her weak, light-headed... but she swore she wouldn't give Tellu the satisfaction of crying out. She glared at the monstrosity Tellu had become with all the scorn she could muster. "You know... you'll never escape," she said. "The other Lights... are already coming... to make you pay..."

"Please." Tellu sneered. "By the time they track us down, you'll be nothing but a withered husk, little Mistress. When they do, my baby and I are going to relish using all the energy you've so generously given me to tear them apart."

"D-don't... count them out just yet..." Struck by an idea, she let herself relax and refocused her efforts on wriggling the fingers of her right hand, working them free of the morass. The vines creaked as they shifted accordingly. "You're really... going to drain me to death? Doesn't he... doesn't J-Joker... want me alive?"

"As I am now, I don't particularly care what Joker or anyone else wants." She scoffed and rustled her petals. "I did have orders to bring you down here to the lab once you showed up, but it shouldn't matter much if you're dead or alive, so long as we have you. It doesn't make any difference to me. All that matters now is feeding and spreading my seedlings~."

"Is that really what you want?" Saturn raised an eyebrow. "Or what... the Xenian wants? On the surface... you claimed that you and it... are working together as equals... b-but it sounds to me like it's the one in charge." A few more centimeters, and her index and middle fingers would touch together. She had to keep her talking. "You only think that... g-giving it what it wants is your idea... b-because that's what it w-wants you to think. In truth, you're just its puppet." Saturn smiled faintly. "And I should know... I've had e-experience with being agggh—" The vines around her neck drew tight in a strangling embrace, and a gasp escaped her lips before she could suppress it.

"Why you...!" Tellu hissed and pulled her closer. Her remaining eye opened wide and crazed,. "How dare you speak about my baby like that, I should snap your pretty little neck!" A slow, sadistic smile. "But no. You'd want that, wouldn't you? I won't give you the satisfaction of a quick end. Killing you slowly, taking from you a little bit at a time, is worth hearing whatever nasty things you come up with." Two hands—Saturn couldn't tell which ones—encircled her face as the vines around her neck slackened. The palms resting on her cheeks were soft, but they bore only the faintest traces of warmth. "I can afford to take my time, Hotaru-chan. Because without that Glaive of yours... you can't do anything."

"Oh...?" said Saturn. Her lips curled faintly upward. There. Her fingers were just loose enough. Despite what their enemies might think, she wasn't totally helpless without the Silence Glaive. Most of her power was bound to her signature weapon, but not all. Forming one of her proper attacks was out of the question, but right now, she didn't need one, she hoped. Not when she was this close. One shot. I need to make this count! She wrenched her fingers upward as high as they would go...

It was nothing so clean or elegant as an invoked attack. Visually, it manifested as a wobbly crescent of smoky white light. Not much to look at, but it had the desired effect: escaping from her fingertips in a rush, it carved a tilted slash in Tellu's upper body from head to navel. Right away she knew her aim was off; she intended to split the Witch down the middle... but as something (blood?) welled up in the wound the crescent left behind, she noted that it did more damage than she thought. The womanly figure in the center of the Xenian Flower's main blossom held deathly still, caught in mid-action like someone in a candid photograph. Two of its main petals fell, severed neat and clean as if by a razor blade, and a second later, one tiny hand slid off her wrist and crumbled to dust before her eyes.

"YOU...!" With a banshee screech that shook the entire tunnel to its foundations, Tellu dropped her hands, closing them around Saturn's neck. Identical murderous rancor smoldered in the Flower's eyes and hers. The Witch's grip was as immovable as steel, darkness infringed on the edges of Saturn's consciousness. "I was wrong to be this nice to you, you foul little cockroach!" said Tellu, seething into her ear. "Forget my orders. This time, I'll make you experience Hell..."

Saturn's bones creaked with strain as all the vines constricted at once, her body lit up with fire as her injuries from the explosion were further aggravated. But this time there was no drain, just Tellu wringing her like a sponge. As she choked for air, she wondered if Tellu intended to squeeze her into pulp. Surely she wasn't insane enough to risk incurring Joker's wrath... right?

The first pair of hands left her neck. That provided only a small amount of extra air, but she inhaled as much as she could. The burning in her skin was different than the sensation of being drained, this was like being scoured with steel wool... friction, it had to be. Everything began to feel distant, as if it was happening to someone else's body, someone she was only vaguely connected to.

When she heard the sick tearing sound, it was as if it came from the other end of a long tunnel. When the hands came back—either the same pair that tried to strangle her, or another, she couldn't be sure—they went to her shoulders this time, and shoved down with irresistible force. Saturn wasn't prepared for that; nor was she prepared for the multitudes of vines to actually loosen around her. Plunged into confusion, she caught a vague glimpse of some kind of ragged, wet lip rushing up past her eyeline, and—

*****

Azabu-Juuban, Above

Simultaneously

Madoka Kaname ran. She had little idea of where she was running to, only that she had to keep moving. Not to escape, though; her aim was to prolong the chase, let the Witches 5 think they were only seconds or minutes away from catching her. In a way, it was similar to what Sakura was doing right now... or what Madoka desperately hoped she was still doing.

Trickery and deceit weren't her in her nature, nor were they Sakura's. For both of them, that was perhaps the most difficult part of this mission's planning stages. They were earnest souls, hearts on their sleeves. If it were anyone else, manipulating their enemies would have been unthinkable... but, Nanoha had explained, that was exactly why they were the perfect candidates to carry the operation out.

To that end, she let off a series of tiny sparks of her magic as she cut a weaving path through the district, one every ten meters or so. It was a Hansel and Gretel-style trail for the Witches to follow, the better to keep herself as bait. The sparks, she hoped, were just small and subtle enough that her pursuers would think their placements were accidental, products of an inexperienced fighter unable to cover her tracks.

At the moment, she was hopping roofs to evade them, but in a minute or so she planned to jump back to street level and continue her flight from there. That would disorient them, she hoped. Perhaps she would even slow down, let them get a few token shots in at her, and maybe fire off an arrow or two in return.

"There you are! Fire Buster!" A blast of flame belched before her and blocked her path just as she considered that. There was Eudial on the next roof over, sweaty, panting, and nearly as red as her hair, but her sneer was triumphant. Her hand flew behind her earlobe. "Cyprine, Ptilol, get up here!" she barked into her comm. "I finally found her, the nimble little pest!"

Madoka tried to smile the most infuriating smile she could. "I'm good at that. Being a pest, I mean." Three arrows materialized between her fingers. Once they were nocked to her bow, she took a half-second to consider. Eliminating Eudial right now would be easier for her in the long run, true, but the more time she could give Sakura, the better. Plus that, there was a chance that taking one Witch out would only make the others more determined. She wasn't sure if she could land a fatal shot, anyway, so it was better and safer to just be annoying. Anything to keep up the act... Tilting down a scant few degrees, she let all three arrows fly, guiding their trajectories with her power. The first two only singed Eudial's thigh and left shoulder, as she intended... the third one plunged straight through her right foot and stuck in the concrete surface of the roof, pinning her to the spot.

"Augh, dammit! Why you lousy—" Eudial's face contorted as she pulled, but it was a magic arrow, not a normal one. Normal physics didn't apply unless Madoka wanted them to. "I'm gonna flame-broil you for this, you hear me?!"

Madoka smiled wider. "Oh that sounds good! Please save me a piece if you can, thank you!" Much more polite than she intended, but it still had the desired effect. Eudial exploded into a storm of profanity, and the last thing Madoka saw before she dropped off the edge of the roof was the Witch's burning red face, steam practically erupting from her ears.

Her next sprint took her down Shichimen Zaka Street, according to her AMP's holo-readout. In the shadow of an enormous thirteen-story complex, she turned and found a narrow alley between a tempura restaurant and what appeared to be some kind of designer studio. Lingering only for a moment to let off another spark in the middle of the street, she took a breath and forged ahead into the darkness—

A few steps in, her foot caught on something which nearly made her fall flat on her face. It was warm, soft, and alive, but too large to be an animal. "Wh-wha...?"

"Yeowch!" said the warm, soft, and alive thing in a high-pitched voice.

Madoka stared. "You're—!" If her eyes weren't playing tricks on her, she had almost twisted her ankle tripping over the missing member of the Witches 5, the small one with the wavy orange bob cut who disappeared shortly after the fight began. Scooting backward, Madoka nocked another arrow.

She was more or less completely unprepared for the Witch to shriek and cower before her, throwing out her hands in front of herself. The staff she clutched in her fist went unused. "P-p-p-p-please!" she whined. "Please don't hurt me! I don't want to fight! I never even wanted to be here, honest!"

Mimete, Madoka remembered. That was her name. She held her arrow steady; she was a trusting kind, but not that naïve, not anymore. "You can't trick me that easily! I saw you with them, with the other Witches!"

With a froglike croak, Mimete fled behind a half-open dumpster as fast as her feet could carry her. "And I ran away as soon as the fight started! I've been hiding here ever since!" came the voice from behind it, its echoes bouncing weirdly off the cramped brick walls of the alley. "I'm just dead weight to the others, anyway. I can barely fight, I've got the weakest magic, no one respects me..."

A likely story, but. The other Witches were truly awful pieces of work, she had ample proof of that. "Even if you're being honest, you can't expect me to just let you go," said Madoka. "How do I know you won't run off to tell the others where I am?"

"I won't, I won't, I swear I won't!" One eye peeked out from behind the dumpster's frame, wavery and frightened. "You're M-Madoka-chan, right? The one who was a goddess. I read your file, you're supposed to be all about seeing the good in people, offering mercy!"

Was their research on her that extensive? Then she remembered, and something stabbed inside her. Right. Sayaka. "What's your point?"

Now she crawled from behind the dumpster on her hands and knees, heedless of the alley's grimy floor. "Please," said Mimete, lowering her head. "I surrender, so take me back with you, Madoka-chan, I'm begging you! I know you guys gave Iron Mouse asylum, can't you do the same for me?"

Try as she might to stay suspicious, the voice in Madoka's head chided her for doubting a person in need. She really did look pathetic and miserable... "No tricks. Promise me."

"Of course, Madoka-chan! Madoka-sama," Mimete corrected herself. She let go of her staff and dropped it before her, then backed off a few paces. "I surrender! See? You can have my weapon. All I want is for you to get me out of here!" Now she lowered herself further, touching her forehead to the ground in the pose of ultimate supplication. "I'm so tired of fighting!"

All this bowing and scraping made her feel queasy, but the Witch's sincerity did seem genuine. Madoka took a slow step forward. "All right," she said. "If you—"

A dry wooden stick snapped beneath her sole, and in the quiet confines of the alley, it sounded like a gunshot. Something leaped from within the half-open dumpster with a panicked cry... a black blur with green eyes that gleamed in the dim light. Its fur was matted and filthy, obviously it was a stray, but other than that it looked similar enough to strike a chord of nostalgia and loss in Madoka's heart. Amy-chan... she thought. In what must have been the first timeline, maybe in others as well, she made her contract with Kyubey to save Amy's life. It all started with her, didn't it? As it scampered past her feet, yowling —

Mimete lunged. A blade of sizzling orange power swept down the alley. Madoka hurtled back and to the left to avoid it with enough force to fling herself against the opposite wall. She heard and felt its edge strike her shields as it passed; if they were down, she would have lost about a centimeter from the tip of her right pigtail.

It took a heartbeat for the sound to register... or the lack of sound. The stray cat was upset by the sudden noise, it yowled long and loud as it darted past her, headed for safety. But its yowl abruptly upscaled in pitch as the blade swept through... and then the sound cut off, too fast. There was only silence.

Madoka scrambled backward, away from the sad little black shape on the alley floor. Away from Mimete, who had gone for the kill the moment she was distracted.

The Witch's face contorted, a sneer of fury and callousness. "Shit!" she fumed. "I would have had you if not for this stupid fleabag!" Her staff came up, and down again. "Mangy!" Whump. "Worthless!" Crunch. "Animal...!"

As she raised her staff once more, a pink arrow split the night, blazing a fiery path over her neck and left shoulder. Its flight burned a smoldering hole through the back part of her hair, and passed so close to her skin that it reddened and began to blister.

Madoka stood trembling, her wide and teary eyes locked on Mimete like those of a falcon sighting prey, already reaching for another arrow. "How..." she said in a throaty whisper. "How could you..."

And Mimete cackled. She didn't look even remotely pathetic or helpless now. "How could I what, trick you? Kill this piece of trash? It was easy, and what are you gonna do about it, ex-goddess?" She brandished her staff, its blunt end now stained red. "I'm Mimete, the beautiful songstress of the Witches 5, and you're nothing but a—"

The next arrow pierced through her shoulder. Mimete's scream grated on the ears, but in her heart of hearts, Madoka couldn't deny that it was a little satisfying. Just a little. With a slow step forward, her eyes burned with her new arrow's flames as she called it to her hand, and the rose at the peak of the bow's upper limb caught fire like a torch.

The sight broke Mimete's confidence. Darting back three meters, she clutched her staff with her good hand, quaking like jelly. "I... I'm not afraid of you!" she stammered. Her pupils shrunk to pinpricks. "I know you, I read your file! You lost all your powers, you're just a regular magical girl now! Y-you can't kill me, you're too soft!"

Grim shadows cast by the pink flames' light played over Madoka's stern, tear-stained face. For just a fraction of a second, her eyes flickered sparkling gold with unearthly radiance. "If you read my file, you must know," she said with terrible calm. "I became a Goddess to erase all Witches, everywhere, with my own hands." She pulled back on the arrow's fletching. "And it seems to me that you're a Witch in every way that matters."

Mimete turned and fled for her life.

Once Madoka was sure she was alone, she sank to her knees, weeping. She wept for the cat, but also for all the other people and animals that Dead End made suffer for no reason, here and everywhere else. This terrible war, with all its senseless cruelty, had shaken the foundations of her perception of the worlds. She was reminded of the time that Kyubey took her on a mental tour of the horrors of human evolution and history, all to justify his species' exploitation of girls like herself. The experience left her a shivering wreck, nearly catatonic, but it taught her a lesson about how her universe worked. A terrible lesson, but it gave her the strength of will to go through with her wish to save everyone, no matter the cost to herself.

And from this, she pledged, she would learn a similar lesson. There was no time or place to bury the poor little creature that lay broken on the alley floor, so instead she bowed and said a silent prayer for its soul. I'm sorry, she thought. You won't be forgotten, I promise.

*****

Later

"Since when does she set traps?!"

"Patience, Eudial. Don't you see? Our ex-goddess is growing desperate. She knows she can't run forever."

"Patience yourself. I didn't see you spending ten minutes healing up a smoking hole in your foot."

Panting and wheezing, Mimete skidded around a corner and approached her comrades at a run. "Eudial! Cyprine!"

"You've got a lot of nerve showing your weaselly little face again," Eudial glowered, setting her fingertips ablaze. "Running away to hide and leaving us to get potshotted at by that pink menace..."

"Oh come on! I wasn't hiding, I was lying in wait! And I came closer to taking her out than any of you apparently did!"

"'Lying in wait', she calls it. As if we don't know what she was actually doing."

"Most likely huddling in a tiny little ball when the Puella Magi tripped over her by random chance."

"Cram it!"

From her perch atop the Picard Azabu-Juuban Grocery, Madoka wrinkled her nose in disgust. Couldn't this group go five minutes without insulting each other? Chibi-Moon was right, they really were rotten to the core... as if she needed any more evidence of that.

Her new strategy relied less on evading and more on baiting: letting one or more of the Witches catch sight of her, then leading them into spell circles set to release volleys on a delay. Magic arrows were magic arrows, after all. If she commanded them to hang in place until her targets crossed their path, they would hang there as ordered. It took more magic to set them up and keep them there, but. Madoka took a quick glance down at her Soul Gem. Thanks to the additional efficiency support from Solace, it was still over half clean. With a little luck, she'd have more than enough until her backup arrived with the Grief Seeds.

A bittersweet smile flitted over her features. "Backup." Why be so vague? There was no pretending not to know who would be first in line to help; she was a little surprised that she wasn't here already. When she did arrive, Madoka wondered if she would be proud of her for holding off three (give or take one) formidable enemies at once, all by herself, no divine powers necessary.

Slow and cool, she took a few steps back from the edge of the grocery store's roof. She was reasonably certain she had "poofed" Ptilol again a few minutes ago, so that meant that the three remaining Witches were all in close proximity down below. This was a rare opportunity to disable all of them at once. A Pluvia Magica might be enough to overwhelm them, she thought, but there was a chance they would bolt upon seeing her spell circle above them in the sky. Maybe, then...

This would take concentration. Madoka closed her eyes and felt for the magic signatures of the three Witches, perceiving them as blots of abstract color in the street below: one red, one orange, one blue. She summoned an arrow and took a deep, cleansing breath. Commanding one arrow to split into a cluster volley was easy. Guiding the arrows in that cluster individually, however, that was another thing altogether. There were multiple vectors and trajectories to be considered, and she had to prepare to make rapid adjustments should her targets dodge the shots. And these were human-sized targets; the Witches from her universe were usually huge enough that such fine control wasn't necessary... With great care, she nocked the arrow and drew it back.

Madoka's senses went on high alert as another red blot manifested, right behind the blue one. Then it was gone, its signature vanished and reappeared, stronger and far closer to—

Madoka spun on her heel and pulled hard. "Twinkle Arrow!"

"Ribbon Buster."

Her shot was answered by an angry, tangled scarlet orb that swallowed it whole. Ptilol was probably laughing at her; if she was, she couldn't hear over the orb's snarling. It slammed into her, and her feet left the roof as its energies raced through her, overwhelming her shields and deadened her limbs with a frigid chill.

So deadened was she, in fact, that she barely felt it when she hit the street below. The impact was muted and distant. Quite unlike the trio of delighted squeals from the other Witches, which were all too clear.

"I brought you a present," she heard Ptilol say as she touched down behind her. "She almost had you, it's a good thing you were paying attention, Cyprine~."

"Thank you, Ptilol~." The twin in blue nodded, then leered at Madoka. "Dear oh dear, what shall we do now?"

There was a sound of cracking knuckles. "Please, allow me," said Eudial's voice somewhere above her. "After chasing this brat all over town and all the crap she's pulled, I know exactly what I wanna do to her. Let's see her shoot these full of holes."

Bleary, Madoka reached for the bow lying at her side. Not good, but if she could get off a few shots...

Eudial's fingers clicked together. "Go Go Gadget Drones!"

Almost inaudible was Mimete's pained response: "Really, Eudial?!"

The incoming half-dozen energy signatures made little sense to Madoka even before she got a look at them: six hovering metallic spheres larger than cars, with an array of thin red cables tipped by tripartite claws attached to their undersides. Each one had a set of three eyes that glared a harsh shade of electronic yellow. Complex apertures slid open and closed inside their lenses as they darted crazily back and forth. All eighteen of those eyes swiveled to focus on her at once. The spheres hummed in unison.

Robots?! Forcing her numb limbs to move, Madoka rolled to her right side and snatched up her bow as a sustained cerulean line burst from the eye of the sphere nearest her, striking the asphalt where her head had been a split-second before. It left a glowing red divot in the street that smoked and stank of fresh tar. The laser—or whatever it was—angled to follow her, carving a tiny little trench as she emerged from the roll; she came up in a firing position, arrow nocked. No time for careful aiming, she drew and fired right for its center of mass.

To her astonishment, the arrow's sparkling pink flame splashed over the sphere's smooth metal surface like water. No punctures, no scorch marks, barely even a scratch. Her stomach plunged, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. "What...?!"

*****

Nearby

Simultaneously

While Yuuno kept his unbroken vigil over Sakura's fight with Joker, Chrono sat monitoring the other Tigers as covertly he could. When his Storage Device, Durandal, sounded an alarm, the last thing he expected to see was a familiar energy signature... one from his own universe, at that. The signature caused him to shoot to his feet, fingers flying over the holo-panel to open an emergency channel. "Musain, this is Epoch, requesting an emergency evac for Swan! The enemy has just summoned six Gadget Drones, please advise!"

Chrono heard a sharp intake of breath before Nanoha Takamachi's voice responded. He didn't have to imagine the expression on her face. "Epoch, please confirm with a low-level scan."

His throat grew tight as he did so. "Confirmed. They look to be Type III models, enhanced with unknown modifications. Requesting the Stranger to provide immediate assistance and extraction, Swan hasn't trained in anti-AMF countermeasures!"

A deadly pause. "I'm sorry, Epoch. The Stranger... isn't fit to travel at this time. We'll send someone via Arthra's transport pads ASAP, so hold position and standby for further orders."

*****

For the second time that night, Madoka was forced into a frenzied dance, hopping from spot to spot to avoid the Gadgets' cutting lasers, which tracked her every motion. A two-meter circle of asphalt beneath her feet lay sliced into irregular geometric patterns, some of the lines still smoking. In rising panic, she fired another three rapid shots at the spheres in her line of vision. Just as with the others, the arrows dissipated off their armored hides.

"Type III-Kai Gadget Drones, brat!" she heard Eudial crow. All of them watched and sneered, reveling in her struggle. "Each one sporting an AM/IF Generator. Your Incubator friends helped with the upgrades after that traitor of a Witch got herself killed... Serves her right for forgetting that regular Anti Magilink Fields only work on people with Linker Cores. These new Isolation thingies they put in are just perfect for someone like you!"

"You—" Gritting her teeth, Madoka aimed and shot her next arrow at Eudial's chest. If she was the one controlling them, maybe stopping her would... No good. One of the Gadgets launched itself into her line of fire, intercepting the arrow. It did no more damage than the last few, and the Gadget responded with a sweeping beam from each eye. The first two went wild, but the third struck her right hip, which flared with heat before falling numb. The lasers weren't supposed to be lethal, she knew that much about technology from Nanoha's world. They didn't want to kill her... they aimed to capture her alive, which would be infinitely worse. A few concentrated shots to her limbs would paralyze her and leave her helpless. And without a reliable way to damage the Gadgets...

Madoka aimed straight up above her head and summoned two arrows. "Magical Squall!" The resulting rain barely gave the Gadgets pause, but it sprung up a three-meter wall of flames to keep them off her for a few precious seconds. Concentrating magic in her feet, Madoka vaulted over the wall to the other side and ran, more arrows already at her fingertips. I have to shake them, she thought. Find a way to higher ground. Just give me long enough to charge a Pluvia Magica or something, please!

Behind her, the Witches and their Gadgets followed in hot pursuit, the former braying like banshees.

"Not so scary now, are you?! C'mere, goddess, we're not done playing yet! Charm Buster!"

"Fire Buster!"

"Ribbon Buster!"

"Solace!" she gasped to the red ribbon on her wrist. "Shields, strong as you can!"

"[Diverti—]" said her AMP, only to be interrupted as the Witches' combined attack detonated with a tremendous roar less than a meter from her right side. Scorching heat and a hail of shrapnel washed over her, and Solace's skin-tight barrier flickered ominously before her eyes. She couldn't take another hit like that.

Fleeing pell-mell down Amishiro street, cutting a zigzagging pattern to avoid fire, Madoka leaped with as much energy as she could spare. The jump was wild, haphazard, but the soles of her Mary Janes touched the balcony railing of a second floor complex. She pushed off, pinballing to the other side of the street and the coarse stone exterior wall of a coffee shop. With that leverage, she bounced again, upward at an angle. Now some fifteen meters off the ground, she pirouetted in midair to face her pursuers and took aim at the closest Gadget. Please, let this work! "Connect, Solace!" she screamed.

The wind in her ears all but drowned out the response. "[We can do it, Madoka.]"

"Finitora Freccia!" Her current arrow swelled and burned white hot. Its fiery trail lit the street, it cracked the Gadget's metal hide and plunged through, and the sphere exploded in a gout of sparks and flame.

That was her chance. Madoka altered her trajectory to take her down atop the roof of the parking garage on her left. She dropped onto the concrete, heaving and sweating bullets. It took an AMP attack just to destroy one of them... to have any hope of surviving the others, she had to move to a more favorable—

There was another Gadget right in front of her. They had anticipated her landing spot, they were learning her movements...

Madoka fumbled to her knees, but the Gadget launched two of its red cables at her, which snaked around her ankles and pulled tight, yanking her off her balance again. "No!" Shifting her bow to its staff form, she swung it at the cables with all her might. Their casings dented, but nothing more. Then she was flying, dragged by the Gadget over the lip of the garage's roof, back down to the city street where the others hovered, waiting.

A flurry of cables greeted her before she could even touch the ground, twining around her arms, her waist, her neck, her forehead. In unison, they squeezed, and Madoka cried out in pain and denial. More cables piled on, more coils, crushing pressure... and her hair stood on end as powerful currents coursed through them. Violent arcs of electricity danced over her, through her, she smelled something burning as her body shuddered and jolted.

No way to escape. Capture was unthinkable. Only one option left, one last resort. "F-F-F-F-Fantine-san...!" she stammered, barely able to hear herself. She didn't even know if Solace's comms still worked, but she had to try. "P-p-p-lease, if you can h-hear me, you h-have to g-g-give me b-back my p-p-p-power! I d-don't c-care what huh-happens to me...! G-give it b-back, p-please..."

There was no answer from Fantine.

But nevertheless, another voice responded. Another voice, a familiar voice, spoke words that she remembered hearing so many times before:

"That will not be necessary."

A series of five near-simultaneous explosions ripped the Gadget Drones apart, each one accompanied by a heavy, wet smell like burning motor oil. The scouring current running through Madoka's body petered out. Someone ripped the dead cables away and grasped her hand, hauling her upright.

"On your feet, quickly," said Homura Akemi. "We need to find your teammates."

That voice. Madoka couldn't help smiling faintly. "Homura-chan... I kn-knew you'd be here. Th-thank you."

Homura reached into her clockwork shield buckler and withdrew a Grief Seed, one Madoka recognized from her hunt earlier that night. "It was nothing. Here," she said, pressing it to Madoka's Soul Gem and flooding her with new energy. Homura's own Soul Gem, she noted, was clear and sparkling violet once again.

And the Witches came running...

"My Gadget Drones!" Eudial spat in disbelief upon seeing the wreckage. "Who the hell are you, how did you—" The rest of the sentence degenerated into a dry squeak.

Mimete skidded to a stop. All the blood drained from her face at once, her eyes went wide as saucers.

Cyprine and Ptilol drew close to each other, holding up their staves in protective stances.

Homura turned to face them and flipped back her hair, dark and shiny in the light of the holographic emblem from above. "You four," she said. "You think you can handle the Goddess who erased all Witches, but you know who I am: I'm the Devil who overthrew the Goddess. I dragged her down into Hell with me."

And she smiled, a low and dangerous smile. "For daring to touch her... imagine what I'll do to you."

END OF CHAPTER 53

NEXT: NO GOD ABOVE

[Author's note:

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