Chapter 168 - It Beckons Us On
Homura's body moved automatically. No thought, no direction called the worn and tired clockwork inside her to action. But she moved anyways, pulled along an inevitable course that took her safely away from the explosion that engulfed the Abnormality that had been within arm's reach a moment before. It painted a radiant purple glow across the dark room, catching in the crystalline structures of the building and sending flecks of color spiraling through the air. When the glow engulfed the Adult Who Tells Lies, Madoka's killer only frowned in response. Her expression was more disappointment than pain, but was quickly covered by the swath of energy splashing over her. Before the explosion could fade, her machinery spun into motion and time ground to a halt. Her eyes traced the Wizard's blind spellcasting, following the same movements she recalled from their previous encounter. Either she was too slow, or the spell didn't require line of sight.
Just as it had when the Abnormality had appeared without warning and stolen Madoka away, a shimmering green tether ran from its hand out through the air and towards Homura. It abruptly solidified just in time to sharpen into a clean spike that pierced her leg just above the knee, tying her to her opponent. In the Adult's other hand was a swirl of blackness that swam across the ground, erupting into a bed of black needles moving up to skewer Homura on their lengths.
The spikes were new, but Homura had seen the chain before and already determined how to respond. She had expected to have to sever its connection herself, but the spikes that the Abnirmality had conjured provided a more energy-efficient alternative. She considered it for a moment, then twisted into a disjointed pose to slip past them. There was a chance of unknown damage if she allowed herself to be struck at any point in the fight. Even if Homura could rewind herself, she was already running short on time. It would be necessary to keep careful measure of the wounds she suffered.
Kicking off from where the spikes grew, Homura drew a shotgun midair and pressed it to her leg just above where she was tethered to the Adult Who Tells Lies. The garbled bark of the firearm as an amethyst glow bloomed from its barrel just against her lifeless skin was more noticeable than the feeling of the gunfire messily disconnecting her leg. It didn't hurt, and Homura hadn't expected it to. She had given up on her own survival long before becoming a Distortion. Suffering injuries was to be avoided because it held a cost, not because Homura's pain mattered. Now that pain was gone entirely. Only the success it bought remained. Fine purple sand spilled from her uneven stump of a leg as Homura fell back, watching the explosion of her grenade fade just in time to see the Wizard's face drain of color and freeze.
Even with time stopped, Homura could not afford to slow down. Her reserves were too low to stop moving. Too little strength left to spend on anything unimportant. No time to devote to anything that wasn't keeping Madoka safe. Never linger for too long because you'll be gone soon. Don't get attached because they'll be gone even sooner. March without end until the battlefield is finally empty and quiet and Madoka is alive and happy and safe.
Even as Homura's thoughts drifted, her body moved. Not to attack, but to retreat. She wheeled around, dropping to the ground to crawl instead of attempting to walk with only a single leg. Madoka's remains were completely encased in a layer of crystals. The sight should have evoked some feeling of panic or despair, Homura recognized, but her only reaction was to accept that retrieving her was not possible at the moment. Had become impossible from the moment Homura deviated from the original plan. Had never been possible for her at all.
There was still no time for those thoughts. Homura twirled again, her mechanized body crawling on her remaining limbs like a spider. She pushed herself up against a wall for balance and took aim at the Adult Who Tells Lies. The Abnormality was still frozen, the colorless sparks of the grenade Homura had thrown brushing against its pale features. She took one gun in her hand and fired until it no longer could. With that weapon spend, she found another already waiting and repeated. Then another. Then another. Explosives couldn't be used so close to Madoka, so she would have to make up for the lower firepower with sheer density. Maybe once, Homura would have wondered why the bizarre weapons she summoned from nowhere still had limited ammunition. Their firing mechanisms looked ordinary from a distance, but like X's own rifle they became utterly impossible under closer inspection. It might have sparked curiosity in a firearms expert like herself or Mami once. Maybe they would have discussed it, compared their conjured weapons. Mami would have started reserved but gradually become more passionate, eventually catching herself with a flush of embarrassment. Homura would have rushed to reassure her, but she would have failed and that note of imperfection in Mami's persona would become another nail in another coffin that Homura could not save her from.
It was convenient to be aligned with Mami instead of against her, Homura thought as she crawled to a new position and took aim from a different angle. The veteran Magical Girl was doomed from the start of each attempt. She was too entrenched in being a Magical Girl but also too ignorant to the worst parts of the role. Without interference, she would take Madoka and Sayaka and drag them with her to the grave. It had been so long since she and Homura were not standing on opposite sides. Homura had nearly forgotten how useful Mami's presence was when she was stable. The older Magical Girl was a beacon of strength so long as her insecurities weren't pressured. Homura had tried to hold her together in the past, to keep the more dangerous truths from her, but never succeeded.
They were far past that now. Mami knew everything, but she was still here. An impossibility, but one that had been realized regardless. Homura should have felt happy for her.
A whir of gears and Homura's leg snapped back into place. Time resumed before the Wizard could be drawn into the frozen moment, and the frozen bullets resumed their path. They struck the Abnormality from every direction. Homura watched as they pattered uselessly against its body. If any damage was inflicted, it wasn't significant.
"I've got to admit I'm surprised. You aren't going to get a better offer by making things difficult, you know." Homura wasn't listening to what it said. She couldn't damage the Adult Who Tells Lies with her standard weapons and couldn't risk anything more powerful so close to Madoka. Stopping time was too expensive for too little gain. There was no victory to be found if she remained on this battlefield.
Instead of answering her opponent, Homura turned and ran at full speed towards the edge of the arena the Wizard had made. She clambered up the side, using the ostentatious carvings and protruding sculpting as footholds to speed her ascent. Once near the top, a carefully-aimed leap sent her just barely over the side. Her attention drifted between the Abnormality behind her and the chain still anchored to her leg. Just because it hadn't been used against Homura more actively didn't mean it couldn't be.
Homura adjusted her acceleration mid-leap, rushing past the spray of dark magic the Abnormality hurled at her. That extra speed let her land in time to dive to the side just quickly enough to avoid the blade of emerald light that cut vertically through the air and stone alike. Where the blade touched the ground, Homura caught sight of something dark and viscous wriggling its way into the surface. It was only a moment later that a crack ran along the ground under her feet before splitting open to reveal rows and rows of teeth leading down endlessly. She aimed one of her larger weapons down towards the gaping mouth and fired, feeling the shock of her momentum fighting against the gun's backlash. Homura's new, artificial body was as light as her old one had been, too thin and sickly to function. The recoil of her gun firing sent her back away from the rows of teeth and skidding to her feet on stable ground. She had landed in the street outside, a shallow canyon boxed in by rows of warped and withered buildings. The way forward was blocked by the massive shape of the stage the Abnormality had built around Madoka's body, casting everything under its wide shadow.
The walls of the Wizard's constructed arena split open, letting Homura stare back to where it sat on its crystalline throne. Madoka's body was frozen nearby, still unreachable.
"I do hope you're not trying to run for help." the Adult Who Tells Lies said with a chuckle. "This is my city, after all. Keeping our little chat private is hardly an issue for me, dear."
So escaping was meant to be impossible. While it could have been a lie, Homura had already been separated from Mami. It was far more likely that she really was alone here. That didn't matter, though. Escape was not Homura's goal, and she hadn't been expecting anyone to save her either. She drew a sniper rifle and fired directly at the Abnormality's head. A wall of shadows rose up to intercept it, breaking into dust but rendering the attack ineffective. The fading shield revealed the Wizard's face twisted into a disappointed scowl. Homura was already running for cover by then.
She threw herself through a nearby window, catching the barest glance of a bright green light shining behind her with the intensity of a floodlight. When it fades a thin frost of crystal has settled over one side of Homura's body and the street out the window. Her mind immediately thinks of snow, then wonders when she last saw snow. Real snow, not the uncanny imitations that Witches produce occasionally to fill their Barriers. It doesn't snow in the time between the beginning of each loop and the inevitable end. Did Homura enjoy snow? For some reason, she wastes precious moments fumbling through her memories for an answer and finds nothing. Homura brushes off the emerald dust and casts away the errant thoughts with it.
A chorus of cackling skulls, burning with sickly green fire, burst through the window. Homura leapt through a nearby door and threw it closed. She heard the fire swallowing up the room behind her and fired her guns up towards the ceiling until it fell in. The door began to crumble just before Homura escaped through the newly-made hole and tossed a grenade behind her. This room was a bedroom once, floor still scattered with the toys belonging to the child who had occupied it. The withering flames the skulls spit out flooded up the gap, licking at the moldering items with tangible malice, before suddenly spluttering out when Homura's grenade detonated. A few fading sparks of purple were visible in the dying green embers. The Abnormality's flames, devoid of warmth or life, sent Homura's thoughts spiraling towards Kyoko.
Kyoko had always being fiery. Passionate. Quick to confront problems she could overcome and to avoid what she couldn't. She was Homura's ally more often than any of the others, usually out of convenience. If Homura had been able to recognize it, maybe she would have found some genuine warmth in those purchased connections. That was a foolish hope, though. Given the chance, Kyoko would form real bonds with anyone else. She would rekindle the spark she had once held with Mami or tie her fate to Sayaka. Homura never built such things with her.
Even together as the two Distortions loyal to X, there was very little between them. Kyoko's emotions were unguarded now, expressed in the way the lights grew harsher or the air became thick with heat. If Kyoko had felt anything similar from Homura, she had never spoken of it. Most probably because there was nothing there for her to feel. Homura had never connected with Kyoko. There had never been a reason beyond a need for companionship, something Homura had long since accepted she could not fulfill. Kyoko would tie herself to one of the others and die with them, always. Always, but not this time. And yet it made no difference.
The walls exploded, hungry magic reaching out at her, and Homura dove back down through the embers in the lower floor. A brush of her fingertips against the broken ceiling's pieces rewound them into their original place. They pushed the Wizard's vicious magic away as they fell up through the air and fit back together. The ceiling became whole for just a moment before it cracked open again under the weight of the Adult's assault.
Homura abandoned that building through a window and clambered up the side of a nearby apartment, swinging through the second-story window into a dining room. She landed in a crouch, surrounded by broken glass and still holding one of her guns. Behind her, the other building groaned and caved in on itself.
Through the broken window, the Abormality was staring at Homura with a bored look. Madoka's body lay beside it, still entombed. Retreating was not enough. Homura would need to do more to draw its attention away, then she could rescue Madoka. She wouldn't fail this time. She couldn't fail this time.
Eleven years, sixty-four days, two hours, forty minutes, thirty-nine seconds left. Homura only had so much time left.
The mechanical Distortion stood to take aim, but before she could level her newly-summoned rifle at her target her feet left the ground. She slammed suddenly against the ceiling, followed by the pile of broken glass under her and the room's furniture. She tried to reorient herself, but the Wizard snapped its fingers again and a wave of emerald blades flew out towards Homura. The building was torn apart in an instant and Homura almost went with it. Sharp edges pushed into her from every direction, cracking her body in some places and shattering it in others.
Homura wound herself back and stood only to be sent tumbling back again by a wave of black flames flooding the streets of the Emerald City. She leapt onto a nearby rooftop for shelter, firing a few aimless shots towards the Abnormality as she did. The projectiles struck their target without leaving a mark. In answer, two beams of sizzling green light scored the rooftop where Homura was waiting. She leapt to the next, then the next, carefully loading a bullet into the sniper rifle in her arms. Four months of her remaining time went with it.
When Homura fired this time, the Abnormality made no effort to dodge. It was only long after the resonating click of the gunshot had sounded, a bright amethyst streak crossing the horizon, that its eyes narrowed in curiosity. The bullet struck the creature's forearm and its remaining time ruptured, splitting apart in a spray of purple sand and black metal.
The strike left a small crack along the Abnormality's arm, which it paused to stare at with an expression of mild irritation. Homura couldn't celebrate this small victory. She had only left a superficial wound. It didn't matter that she could hurt the Adult because she didn't have enough time left to defeat it and save Madoka.
Thankfully, it seemed that she wouldn't have to. The Adult's throne and the Abnormality in it vanished in a burst of dark smoke. Homura started running before she saw where it appeared, raising her acceleration to dart across the calcified rooftops faster than the eye could catch. She wove through the crystal spikes rising from the ground, ducked away from the spells flying through the air and the monsters filling the streets, and fired blindly back at where she thought the Adult was. Just enough time was spent on each shot to cause damage. Maybe not enough to wound the Aleph-class' body, but easily enough to hurt its pride.
She was being boxed in, she could tell. The terrain became more and more filled with emerald growths as she moved, each one spilling inky darkness into the surroundings. It didn't matter. Homura had what she wanted.
A spear of dark energy flew towards Homura from one side and she made no effort to dodge it. It crashed into the side of her head and scattered shards of porcelain and broken gears through the air. She fell from the rooftop and landed with a cacophonous crash in the street below. Purple sand poured from the gaping wound. Then Homura's gears spun, and she cast the wounds aside. All but six years of her time were sculpted, separated from her and split into a parallel shape. The copy rose to its feet, still wounded and spilling its not-blood across the street. The tether stayed with it.
Meanwhile, Homura slipped away as fast as she could manage, burning a month of time in the fraction of a second it took for her to hide. Her clockwork ran and dragged time to stillness, leaving the Parallel copy behind with the Abnormality. Homura slipped away, back to where the fight had begun. Back to Madoka.
She passed the toppled buildings and half-formed geodes without a second glance. Homura's gaze was locked solely on the emerald coffin that held Madoka's body. She had to get her out somehow.
Homura knelt in front of the crystal growth and examined it. Like she saw before, it was too thick to break through easily. Homura's larger weapons, the ones that would be able to make real progress on freeing Madoka, couldn't be used precisely enough to be safe. Maybe she could use some of the suggestions from the Library, adding melee attachments to one of her guns? No, that wouldn't carry enough force. Homura loaded a bullet into a pistol, pouring a few seconds into it to test the crystal's durability. She angled it carefully, ensuring that the bullet wouldn't hit Madoka's body if it broke through.
The gun firing was the only sound in Homura's colorless, timeless world. Violet flashed against the crystal surface and scattered through the empty air. Its surface remained unscathed. That was fine. Homura tried again, using an hour this time. Still, the crystal was left without a scratch. A day this time. It didn't have any effect. A week. No damage. A month. Nothing.
With shaking hands, Homura loaded a year of time and fired directly into the crystal cocoon around Madoka's body. She inhaled slowly, and her breath was ragged and shallow. This would work. It had to work. Homura had fought monsters and things from beyond the stars. She had survived no matter how weak, how vulnerable she was. She had tried for so long, for years, just to save Madoka. She wouldn't be stopped by some rocks. She wouldn't.
Homura pulled the trigger, and the grey-painted scenery was cast in a brilliant purple. The bullet struck the emerald and splashed against it, light flowing like liquid and carving through everything it touched. Homura stared intently at the blast. It had to work. Madoka had to live. She deserved to live more than any of them. If it took every second Homura had, she would give them without hesitation.
The crystal was cracked. Fractures ran along its surface and pieces were simply missing. It was progress.
It just wasn't enough.
Homura didn't have enough time left. She wouldn't be able to reach Madoka. She had failed.
Homura had already failed, though. She failed when she let Madoka die. She failed when she let her be captured. She failed when Madoka faced Walpurgisnacht alone all those years ago and Homura was too weak to protect her. Why had she ever believed otherwise? The realization came like a sword piercing through her heart. The constant click of Homura's machinery stopped. Time's flow resumed, but Homura didn't notice. She leaned forward and pressed her head against the surface of Madoka's coffin, hoping for… she wasn't sure what she was hoping for anymore. What good had it ever done her to hope? Hope never saved Madoka's life. It never kept her safe. It never gave her a normal life, no matter how much she deserved it.
"Are things sinking in yet?"
The shadows under Homura came to life. Hands rose up and seized her before throwing her back down, impaling her on the spikes that rose up from the ground without warning.
"I'm a bit perplexed by this choice, darling. I thought I was being generous with my offer." the Adult said. Homura tried to raise her head, but one of the shadowy hands that had taken hold of her forced her eyes back to the ground. Even so, Homura could tell. The voice was coming from just in front of her. She could almost see the Abnormality leaning over her, wearing its smug smile.
"Or maybe that's the problem. Yes, that's it. I was too generous, wasn't I? Too soft." it said. A dangerous, excited energy entered its voice. "I'll make your options more clear-cut. You can accept my help, take your beloved, and leave. I won't bother either of you for the rest of your lives. Or you can refuse, and she stays dead. I'll scatter her remains across the world and you'll spend the rest of your existence knowing you could have saved her. But it's entirely your choice."
Homura stopped struggling against her restraints and focused. Measured her position, how much time she had remaining. If the Abnormality stayed true to its word, Homura could succeed. She could take Madoka away from Mitakihara and to somewhere nobody would find them. The time she had in reserve would be enough to keep Madoka safe for some time as long as she avoided any major confrontations. X and the others would be fine without her, surely. Homura's uselessness against the Adult Who Tells Lies had already been proven. It was the only way she had left to save Madoka. There was no more room for calculations or measured sacrifices. No time left for another chance. Homura had to decide.
But she had already decided, hadn't she? Homura could have accepted the offer from the start. It hadn't just been suspicion that turned her away from the Abnormality's proposal. No, it was more than that.
For some reason, Homura found her thoughts turn to Sayaka as she stared at the ground. Sayaka, who was Madoka's best friend and who threw away her life time and time again. Even if she was a fool, Sayaka was a better person than Homura was. It wasn't surprising that she and Madoka were such good friends.
Sayaka had died for Madoka's sake before. Not often, but if the chance presented itself the untrained Magical Girl refused to back down from a battle she believed needed to be fought. She was also brash, reckless, and prone to making snap judgements and being unwilling to revise them. A perfect victim for the Incubators and a level to push Madoka into a Contract along with her. She and Homura had never gotten along even when they were supposed to be allies.
They were allies again now. All the arguments felt to petty and meaningless in the face of this moment. Five years, one day, eleven minutes, thirty-three seconds left. For all her failings, Sayaka wouldn't have hesitated. Madoka wouldn't have hesitated. Homura had, but in the end her choice was the same. Anything less…
Maybe it didn't matter anymore. Madoka was gone, beyond what Homura could save. But Homura had time left, and she would use it well.
She threw all but the few minutes she would need into one hand. Not as a weapon. Not in any shape Homura knew. Only a crackling, spitting column of violet lightning cast up from Homura's grip. It shot through the air with impossible speed, arcing out and folding the surroundings into impossible patterns for a flicker of a moment before unfolding them into piles of rubble. The Adult Who Tells Lies howled as the fracturing years struck it in its face at the same spot where it had been wounded in its first attack. Its pallid flesh was gouged away, showing smooth stone inside where a normal person would have had blood and bone. It clutched its wound with one hand, leering at Homura with hatred so thick and heavy it filled the air like a cloud of smoke. In spite of its injury, the Abnormality smiled.
"I suppose that's your answer. Well, don't say I didn't give you a choice~!" it said cheerfully as it reached for Homura. The Distortion tried to move, but her limbs felt too heavy. It reminded her of the time before she became a Magical Girl, when her feeble body would struggle just to push itself out of bed in the morning. She could do nothing but watch as the Abnormality's hand slowly closed around her, promising every kind of agony imaginable. Unfortunately for it, Homura had too little time left for that. The Wizard would need to make those next few minutes count.
It never got the chance, however. Something impossibly fast slammed into the Adult Who Tells Lies from the side, sending the Aleph-class Abnormality flying through the air. It crashes through a row of apartments and landed in a heap, spitting curses.
"You shouldn't go off on your own, Homura."
Even without lungs, Homura felt breathless staring at the person now standing above her, a pillar of strength between the broken machine and the wounded Abnormality snarling on the other end of the room. X looked different than she had when they had last spoken. Her old uniform remained, but it was cut down from a large jacket to a smaller shirt that clung more tightly to her body. Long white gloves and stockings with circuit-like green patterns covered her otherwise-exposed arms and legs. A thick white coat, rimmed with fur, flares out behind her life a cape caught in the wind of her own attack's aftermath to reveal the ring of colored eyes lining its inside. Her hair billowed out in a cloud of scarlet, traced by two streaks of grey like comet tails against a bloodied sky. Homura had seen that image before, glimpsed the same day she resolved to save Madoka no matter what she had to give up. But the woman who stood before her now was not the monster she remembered. The intimidating pressure it had exuded was replaced by a cushioning confidence that lifted up rather than pressing down. The glow that surrounded her was patient and gentle, not an all-scouring glare that refused the very idea of things remaining hidden. And instead of a faceless mask, she wore a thin smile that expressed the undeniable idea that everything was completely under control. That even though Madoka was gone and Homura was a failure, she would still be safe and secure and happy.
"You arrogant wretch, daring to interfere in-" the Adult Who Tells Lies spat, kneeling in the shards of her broken throne and clutching her wounded eye.
"I wasn't talking to you. Be quiet and wait your turn." X interrupted without turning to look at the injured Abnormality. Against all odds it stopped, paralyzed by equal parts indignity and rage. "Homura, how much time do you have left?"
"Eleven minutes." Homura answered automatically. Her voice wasn't the mechanical monotone she had grown used to. Just the exhausted, unconscious sound of an instinctive answer. X's faint smile became a slight frown.
"I see. Go rest for now, Homura. The others will pick you up. We'll handle this from here." she ordered. Homura started to stand before Argalia's hands came from behind her and gently guided her to her feet.
"Madoka is-" Homura started, but her voice failed. How could she say it? But X didn't need her to finish. The Manager of Lobotomy Corporation's eyes widened almost imperceptibly for a moment before narrowing in contemplation. When she had found her conclusion, she reached back and placed a hand on Homura's head.
"I can't explain right now. Just trust me that everything will be okay, alright?"
"I will." Homura answered. The words felt like ash in her mouth. Bitter and coarse and carrying only the echoes of warmth. Somehow, she still believed them.
With that, Homura slipped away and X turned to face the Adult Who Tells Lies for the second time.
