Chapter 166 - You Wished For Victory Without Sacrifice
Curses broke against curses, and the Emerald City shook. The Wizard of Oz had to admit, it had been some time since she had enjoyed herself in a battle as much as she was in the moment. Truly, she had outdone herself in selecting an actor to shift the balance in her favor. Discovering the deceased queen of France was a stroke of extreme fortune, possible only through her unique talents. A being so thoroughly fueled by malice and curses, long since defeated and easily exploited, found entirely by coincidence on the same world that the Wizard had been freed into? It was an opportunity so perfect that it almost seemed too good to be true. But the mind behind the Wizard's escape was not one for deception, she knew that much, and this world had been utterly unprepared for her arrival. It would have earned her a far more commanding position had she been able to maintain control, but a few disruptive influences were inevitable when planning.
Though what had been a momentary distraction was proving to be more of a challenge than the Wizard expected. Isabeau's ability's were nowhere nearly as versatile as the impossible breadth of the Wizard's spells, but she was a clever fighter. Not clever enough to hide the fact that she had anchored her life back to the world so as to not rely on the Wizard's magic to survive, but nobody was perfect. Maybe if the reanimated royal had a way around the Wizard's other failsafes, then she would be truly impressed. Until then, Isabeau would have to settle with being worthy entertainment.
The Wizard waved a hand and a torrent of crystals erupted from the earth, reaching towards Isabeau like an ocean of hands grasping desperately not to be pulled under the water's surface. The queen flicked downward with a disdainful smile and one of the monstrous creatures attending her dove down, parting the sea of emerald into shards and the street beneath it into clouds of rubble. Another creature folded its body over its master, hiding her from the explosions that rocked the city a moment later. Its body parted to reveal Isabeau standing untouched within a throne of mismatched insect wings unfolding from her like a bizarre flower. A swarm of many-colored jeweled insects poured from between the wing-petals, so thick that they looked more like a solid mass of chittering limbs than individual creatures.
"Is this impotent display truly all you can manage? Though I knew already that you were never worthy of my regard, the depth of that inadequacy remains a surprise." Isabeau mocked. The Wizard didn't let such blasé insults affect her.
"How curious, then, that you have failed to wound me in any meaningful way so far. The Alchemist was able to do so even wearing that pitiful container of theirs." Accepting that something so insulting had happened had been a challenge at first, but in light of the Wizard's new observations it made entirely enough sense. The Alchemist had clearly invested much of their power in the guise they were using. Maintaining it wasn't just a game, it held significance. What part, exactly, it played in the Alchemist's designs was unclear so far, but the Wizard's own plans would be complete soon enough that it wouldn't matter. In the meantime, it made for a decent mark against her fellow curse-wielder.
Instead of appearing insulted, Isabeau's smile stretched wider. "Oh? Did you intend that to be a surprise? Unlike you, some people know value of proper communication. If I recall correctly, all it took then was for her to strike you especially hard."
"And yet you haven't managed it yet."
The Wizard raked her hands through the air, pulling a few of the souls of Kamihama's people into her grasp. They flowed between her fingers as wisps of dark smoke. She took a moment to enjoy the way each one screamed and squirmed under her grip. Only the barest slivers of life remained in the people of Kamihama, but that was still enough for them to suffer. More importantly, it was enough to burn. She closed her hand and grinned in satisfaction as the people's spirits combusted, releasing a wave of not-light that washed over the buildings and streets. Everywhere it touched was twisted and torn apart, reducing the surroundings to a mess of abstract shapes and ribbons that quickly collapsed in ok themselves. Isabeau's insects, though, were untouched. Their jeweled bodies glowed brighter in the ruins.
"Such arrogance is to be expected from one playing at royalty." Isabeau replied, stepping forward in defiance.
The insects clustered around the Wizard, their bodies glowing brighter and brighter before finally erupting with sickly light. The explosions splashed against walls of crystal rising up around the Wizard and faded away, having not left a scratch on the malevolent Abnormality.
Before the Emerald City had been made, before The Adult Who Tells Lies had even arrived in this world, the place that would have become this battlefield had been Minaminagi Ward. The parks and buildings remained even after the space they filled was warped and rearranged and their surfaces were painted with the Abnormality's will. They had stood as part of the Emerald City less than an hour ago, a skyline of apartments and stores and trees all layered under an emerald veneer and pierced by spots of the Wizard's favored architecture spreading between them like roots digging into the earth. Now, there were only ruins. All the way up to the false horizon were the ground pulled upwards there was nothing but rubble and the corpses of monsters.
"Oh? But I am royalty. A true ruler, not the long-dead unwanted queen of a miserable nation of pathetic humans." the Wizard spat. "I earned my crown, took it from that poor unworthy child." She chuckled to herself as she launched her next spell, recalling that first great trick. "So eager to do away with the loneliness of rule. She should be more grateful, really. I only lifted that burden. And I'll relieve you of yours next."
"Claim whatever titles you wish, you are no true ruler. However you try you will not change the fact that you are simply a miserable creature." Isabeau retorted, more monstrous creatures rising up around her. Her Familiars were cobbled of mismatched parts, insect wings and chitin fused to bared meat and bones and dripping with Grief. They matched The Adult Who Tells Lies' towering silhouette while Isabeau's body sat safely in the center of their embrace, her tarnished yellow dress a sole spot of gold glinting in the mass of dark.
"Though it may seem unfortunate to you, it is not the place of just anyone to rule. Only a powerful, driven authority can call themself a true royal." Isabeau continued as her monsters batted away the Abnormality's attacks. A crazed glint shone in her wide eyes."I am the Queen eternally, once and forever. Because I alone desire it more sincerely than any other. Because my Wish was greater than any other Magical Girl in history! You have nothing but petty instinct to guide you."
"Rather ironic of you to call yourself eternal when it was my power that gave you back your life." the Wizard said.
"And I'll take far more than my own life when I'm done! I will have everything, all for me and me alone! What do you have?"
"Look around and ask again. What do I have? I have an empire! My Emerald City, my authority, my judgement! And soon, I'll have exposed even that deluded fool you chose to serve for all its failings!" the Wizard shouted. Thick black curses dripped from her fingers, the remnants of the spells she hurled with vicious enthusiasm building up faster than they could dissipate. The realized malice formed a thick cloud around the Abnormality pierced only by the bright viridian gleam of her body. Isabeau was undeterred.
"Your desires are unfocused. What do you desire but senseless suffering? Your kingdom is empty of subjects. All you have are rotting husks of true glory." Isabeau mused. Even as her creations were torn apart by the Wizard's assault, her smile only widened until it was practically stretching beyond the edges of her face. She maintained her rictus grin even up until the moment the Wizard snapped her fingers and released a flash of green light. When it faded, everything in sight had become murky emerald crystal. Isabeau's beasts stood as horrific statues before their unbalanced bodies toppled to the ground and shattered to pieces. Even Isabeau herself was petrified, expression of rapturous pride frozen on her face.
"Talk all you like of purpose and desires, but you're driven by your instincts far more than me." the Wizard declared to the statue, her wretched magic finally beginning to settle. "For as much as you dress it up, you're just a mindless monster wearing the corpse of a long-dead woman. I would know. I dragged you back from death myself, after all."
She stepped closer, claws tracing the surface of Isabeau's frozen face with something that one could possibly mistake for affection. The thin lines left behind by her fingertips digging into the crystal's surface told a much different story. "You're the same as those animals I was locked with, repeating their parts mindlessly and thinking they mattered. But I'm different. I'm better than that."
The statue didn't answer. Silence settled over the ruins that had once been part of a city filled with life. Satisfied, the Wizard drew back. That was an interesting distraction. Interesting, but not as entertaining as she'd have liked. In the end, Isabeau was a failure. She lost any right to prattle about "purpose" or "deserving" when she died the first time. She was worse than useless in holding back the Alchemist, though the Wizard would attribute that to her fellow Abnormality's maneuvering more than anything else. At least everything had wrapped up before the main event started. The Wizard wouldn't miss what she'd arranged for later. The dead queen's children would need to be found and dealt with, but that could wait. They were too dysfunctional to do anything without a unifying force and Isabeau was hardly in position to give orders now.
It was only then that the statue cracked. Its crystalline surface split open like a cocoon, butterfly wings exploding out in a mountainous bloom that towered over the Wizard. A torrent of horrific creatures poured out from between the wing-petals. The Wizard dismissively raised a hand, reducing them to statues once again, but this time barely a heartbeat passed before they split open and continued their charge. So these ones had been made to shed their bodies? Isabeau's creatures reached the Wizard, tunneling through the shields she called up and scrabbling at her body for anything they could strike. Everywhere they touched, they soaked up the curses that the Wizard wrapped herself in. She grimaced and reached out to crush one of the offending creatures with her bare hands. It splattered into dark sludge, but more came to replace it. A large caterpillar-shaped Familiar reared its too-human head and fired a blast of flames towards the Wizard, leaving small cracks along one side of her body.
"I do thank you sincerely for returning my life." Isabeau said. The mania faded from her voice only for a moment before surging back. "But it's not nearly enough! I must have more than this! I will have EVERYTHING!"
Then came the Light.
It was only for a moment. A flash barely brief enough to see. But there is was, bright and harsh and searing through the darkness. Isabeau's creatures dissolved under the light. The Witch in human flesh howled and writhed, collapsed in the fading ashes of her creations. Her hoarse cries echoed through the empty battlefield and brought a smile to the Wizard's face.
"It's funny how few Magical Girls ever question what Grief is. They wander about, wielding powers they don't even pretend to understand, and have the gall to act shocked when they suffer for it." the Wizard said, savoring each word. "When you look closer, you learn a lot. Like how Light burns Grief when it touches it."
It was rather simple, really. Every Abnormality felt some form of distaste for the Incubators' byproducts. The more animalistic ones were driven by instinct to stamp it out. For the more advanced, intelligent Abnormalities, it was still an eyesore. An irritant. Even the Wizard couldn't ignore the distaste she felt touching it, but she was above being driven by such feeble emotions. Grief was a useful tool, easily painted with whatever emotions were necessary.
More importantly, though, was its interaction with Light. When the two came into contact, Grief burned. More precisely, it was rendered back down to its neutral state, untouched by human thought. Magic. Not the fiddling sparks that Magical Girls used, but the power revealed only in the moment of their creation. Left alone it would dissipate, but if the proper mechanisms were put in place it could be stored. If the Incubators had noticed, they hadn't made any efforts to capitalize on it. They didn't have the Wizard's ambition. The willpower-devoid husks couldn't dare to take the risks necessary for true success. She was different, better.
Of course, summoning the Light was beyond her abilities. Recreated Distortions didn't carry it with them, and her attempts to induce Distortion or EGO Manifestation hadn't borne fruit either. Some Light was absorbed, but not enough to produce the Wish that the Wizard had set her sights on. Fortunately, there existed an Abnormality that produced Light just by existing. Arranging the Emerald City to soak it up was child's play. And as a lovely side benefit, it made for an excellent weapon against Grief-based creatures.
Like Isabeau de Bavière, for example.
"I wonder how much of you you lost in that moment. Even if you don't need my magic to support your existence, your soul is still connected to me. Honestly, opposing me was an absurd idea from the start." she mused, leaning over Isabeau's collapsed body. The sound of the queen's ragged breathing was satisfying like little else. A casual flick of the wrist sent a spike of crystal up through her chest, spilling Grief mixed with blood across the dusty ground.
A few steps away, the air lit up. A circular hole pulled open in space, rimmed by golden light. The Wizard stepped back, smile still on her face.
"Well, this should be interesting. I do hope you're still conscious enough to watch this."
Minou was the first through the portal, absolute terror aging through her wide eyes under her mask. That fear was mirrored on the faces of her sisters as they trailed behind her. The blonde Magical Girl rushed to her mother's side, frantically looking her over while Corbeau and Lapin stared in terror at the Wizard. The feeble specks of Magic they held ready were amusing, but nothing compared to the utter terror radiating off of them. Both from the sight of their mother, limp and bleeding out in front of them, and at the grinning Abnormality looming over them.
"No no no no no not again, please…" Minou rambled, paying no heed to anything but Isabeau's body. The Wizard's smile stretched wider. What would she do to save her mother? The Wizard could just have her kill her sisters. Would she succeed? The other two were stronger fighters, yes, but they didn't have the same level of conviction. Would they let themselves die so they wouldn't have to hurt their sister? Or would one of them strike back and have to live with that guilt? So many beautiful possibilities…
Before the Wizard could make her decision, something rippled through the Emerald City. A disruption barely noticed vanishing, like an ache in the back of one's being that had existed for so long they had forgotten it existed suddenly being relieved. Time snapped back into place.
"It seems your luck has turned. The main act is about to start, and I'm not going to miss it." the Wizard declared. Lapin and Corbeau watched, hands shaking and ready for a battle they knew they would lose. Minou still didn't look away from her mother.
"Just wait here until I get back, alright? I'll entertain you later." Shadowy hands sprouted from the ground, pinning the three Magical Girls down. Minou let loose an anguished scream as she was dragged away from Isabeau's body. Corbeau and Lapin fought the ethereal limbs, but it was only moments before they were overwhelmed. By the time the three were detained, the Wizard was already gone.
She had a real show to get to.
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Fifteen years, eighty-one days, eleven hours, one minute, five seconds remained.
That was all the time Homura had left. The monsters that filled the Emerald City- Familiars armed with bizarre weapons and armor, fully-grown Witches, and creatures she didn't recognize at all- rushed towards her in slow motion. Their every step, every strike, was ponderous and easily avoided. But there were so many of them, and every misstep counted. Homura couldn't run out of time now. Not when Madoka needed her. She'd lost hours, days, years to rewinding herself after every mistake that left her broken or torn apart. It would have been more efficient to stop time entirely instead of just accelerating herself, but if she was able to do that she would have just saved Madoka immediately. Instead, she wove between the swarms of creatures in search of her allies.
Homura passed a wolf-like Witch and placed a shotgun to the side of its chest. It was still charging forward towards where it had first seen her when she pulled the trigger and blew it into two halves. The spray of amethyst light tore through the dull brown of its pelt and lit its insides. She moved on before the remaining pieces had even started to fall, slowing only to place a sniper round through the skull of an isolated target. With it gone, she had a more clear path out.
If Homura's only goal has been to kill the Emerald City's inhabitants, it would have been easy. Mechanical. Any that were fragile and slow enough for her to kill could be killed. Those that were either too tough for her to damage or too fast to pin down even with her acceleration required a more dedicated touch. Required her to spend more time that Madoka needed. Every time she made a mistake, every time something took her off-guard, she rewound herself and spent more time.
Since being separated from Mami and being unable to find her in the immediate area, Homura had decided to move for the marker location. If she reunited with Mami along the way, the two could proceed to the target together. If she did not, then she would destroy the marker on her own and regroup with Mami along with X and the others to rescue Madoka. That had been the plan, but the Emerald City had made the correct course difficult. Homura had made it outside of the mountainous building the two had passed through, but navigating the streets was only somewhat easier. The lightless stores and apartment buildings, laced with archaic carvings of black stone and murky emeralds growing over their walls, were as much of a maze as the earlier structure. She could see the building they had identified as the Wizard's Court ahead, but none of the roads headed straight towards it. Heading over the tops of the buildings had worked earlier, but it became too expensive after Homura encountered a creature that killed her if it kept line of sight for too long. She had rewound herself twice before determining that keeping to the streets was more efficient. Her weapons didn't cost any time to create or use, and they were more than enough to subdue or ward off the enemies that occupied the Emerald City.
A ripple ran through the Emerald City, and Homura felt something snap back into place. The cogworks inside her clicked experimentally, and time ground to a halt. The ominous green glow that filled the Emerald City was smothered under the greyscale that filled the world when she froze it in place. Not slowing her movement for a moment, Homura smashed a nearby window and dove through. She paid no attention to the dilapidated rooms she walked through. Homura only allowed the flow of time to return once she was safely hidden within the abandoned building, a restaurant of some sort. Color bled back into her surroundings as time's course resumed, though it was hard to tell with the state of the place. Carefully but quickly, she checked what she could of her own mechanisms. Her gears ran unimpaired. No foreign magics tugged at her. Fifteen years, eleven days, six hours, forty-two minutes, eleven seconds remained in her reserves. Everything was running as it was supposed to. For a second time that day, Homura's gears spun and dragged time to a halt. The first step of the plan was complete. Now Homura could regroup first with X, then the rest of the teams to save Madoka together. Afterwards, Madoka would be returned to safety and they would work together to defeat the Abnormality that had captured her. Maybe that would have happened, were it not for a sound. A scream, filled with profound agony, piercing the air.
Madoka's scream.
Homura's head snapped toward the sound automatically. An endless field of buildings was laid out in ahead, all drained of color. Madoka could have been in any one of them. She could have been somewhere else entirely, and the sound could have been just a trick to lure Homura away. But Homura had to look regardless. She had the time to spend, and she would always be able to find Madoka if she looked. It was her one remaining purpose. Fix her mistake and return to her service.
With a dexterity and precision that no human could manage, Homura made her way through the buildings in the direction of the scream. The monsters filling the Emerald City were numerous enough that pushing past them was necessary at times for optimal efficiency, but with the advantage of surprise there was never any fight against them. The traps were more problematic now as they were before, but not an obstacle that Homura couldn't surpass. She just had to spent more time to circumvent them. Maybe someone else would have shied away from sacrificing their life in pieces so regularly, but Homura had grown accustomed to it a long time ago. Magical Girls gave up any chance of a normal life just by making a Contract in the first place. From then on, their time was borrowed. Every bit of magic spent was another minute or hour or day less they had left. Hunting Witches only delayed that end. In that sense, Homura's transfigured form was comfortably familiar.
The memory of Madoka's scream drew Homura further through the city. She had to know that Madoka was alright. That she was safe. That she was alive at all. Then she could go back. Then she could continue the plan. But Homura had to know.
She broke open another window and leapt through. Fourteen years, two days, nineteen hours, fifty minutes, seventeen seconds. Homura scanned the room, her internal mechanisms coming to an abrupt halt when she saw what was inside.
Madoka was sitting on her knees on a stiff-looking bed, staring at the window Homura had just broken in through. Still dressed in her pajamas and with her hair down and still messy, memories of waking up together on countless mornings that never were sprung forth. But while Madoka had an undeniable life to her even in the early mornings, it was absent here. Her clothes were stained and torn. Her hair was not just a mess, but thinner and notably more faded even divorced from color within Homura's stopped time. Her eyes were sunken and rimmed with dark circles. It felt like she was staring right at Homura, even frozen in time. Her stare wasn't one filled with relief and happiness, though. She looked lost. Hollow. Somebody had taken that spark, that determination that Madoka had always carried with her, the beautiful radiant hope that Homura looked to follow, and carved it out. But Madoka was alive, and that was everything. If she was hurt, she could be healed. Sayaka's unique Magic in this timeline was especially useful for healing, and X could cure any psychological damage.
Homura reached out, placing a hand in Madoka's own. She hesitated, shaking from some nameless emotion, with her hand hover just above the other girl's. But the moment passed and she let her hand rest over Madoka's and watched silently as color flooded her body again. She looked worse up close. Her skin was worryingly pale and clammy. Was Madoka sick? X was a doctor, she could treat her if she had to. Madoka would still be fine.
When the imprisoned girl saw Homura, she recoiled, terror filling her eyes. Homura said nothing, but her free hand twitched. She willed it to stop. There was no room for distractions right now. The next moment Madoka's fear was replaced by shame, but the fear rejoined it as quickly as it had gone. She stared in utter disbelief at Homura within the colorless room.
"Homura..?"
Her voice was so faint. Thin and breathless and completely unbelieving. Homura felt Madoka squeeze her hand, assuring herself that the former Magical Girl really was there. As she did, her uncertain, disbelieving stare morphed into one of pure terror.
"Homura, you can't be here! It's not safe!"
"I will be fine. X has a plan to get you to safety. Come with me."
Madoka shook her head, eyes still filled with fear. "You don't understand. She'll hurt you, she'll kill you, I-" Her voice failed her, breaking into a wracked sob. "I don't want anyone else to get hurt because of me. Please."
"Do not worry about us. We'll be fine. I can always fix myself if I'm damaged. But you need to leave this place. It's not safe for you." Homura said. The unbidden terror still clinging to Madoka's expression made it clear Homura had failed to reassure her. She should have anticipated that. Why had Homura believed she could reassure Madoka that she would be safe when she hadn't protected her in the first place? "We have to go quickly. You should not be here."
Suddenly, Madoka threw herself toward Homura. The mechanical girl had no idea what to do. She stood unmoving as Madoka wrapped her arms around her, holding her rescuer as tightly as her withered frame could manage.
"Homura, please…" she whispered. Begged, but Homura didn't understand. "Please…"
Madoka's body went slack, and Homura moved to catch her before she could fall on instinct. She held Madoka limp in her arms, unsure of what to do. She had to take her somewhere safe. Reunite with the others. X had a plan. With Madoka still in her arms, Homura turned to leave. The window would be too much of a risk with Madoka in her current state, but going through the door and the building on the other side would most likely lead to traps. This would have been easier if Homura had come with everyone instead of going to Madoka first. But no, that would have risked Madoka's safety. Homura had to save her. It was the only choice she could make. Slowly, she placed one of her hands back in Madoka's and gently squeezed. Madoka squeezed Homura's hand back, and her breathing steadied.
As Homura looked around the room, trying to think of a safe exit, Madoka suddenly started to squirm in her arms. Her fear had overflowed into a desperate panic, trying to escape some horrible fate. That fight that had left her eyes returned, blazing with an intensity that looked even fiercer contrasted to the girl's sickly body. Whatever it was, Homura would stop it. Would protect Madoka from it. She just had to get back to everyone.
"Homura, wait, please, I don't want you to-!"
A sharp, terrible sound, then utter silence. Glass scraping against glass magnified a thousandfold screamed through the air, accompanied by a wet squelch. Then total silence. Homura felt the flash of emerald light in the same moment she heard it. If she had been a Magical Girl still, she would have felt the explosion burning and cutting into her body. All she felt in its place was the awareness that she was suddenly damaged, the dull numbness of amethyst sand pouring from the gaping wounds dotting her body, and the disorientation of suddenly being laid across the floor and staring at a wall. Joining those three was the discomfort of blood splashing against her body. She wound her body back into its shape without a second thought. All her focus was on Madoka. She had been holding her when the explosion had gone off, she was most likely injured, possibly severely. Homura could fix it. Her ability to heal directly was gone, but she could wind back any of Madoka's injuries. But what had exploded? Only Madoka and Homura had been free to move within the frozen time, and Homura had been checking herself for interference regularly.
It took not a second for Homura to find Madoka's eyes staring into her. The young girl's face frozen in her final, terrified expression, eyes still lit by a cold, now-empty determination. Madoka's hand was still in hers. Colorless blood and something more stained the walls and floor and ceiling. But Homura could not tear her gaze away from Madoka's. Time slipped from her grasp and flowed freely, sharpening the gruesome scene into full focus. Homura kept staring, searching for some impossible spark of life in Madoka's eyes. In her eyes, at her face, because if Homura looked any lower she wouldn't be able to unsee everything that wasn't there. For some assurance that she hadn't failed again. That Madoka would go home safe with her parents and brother tonight to live a normal, happy life one day. That the light still gleaming in her eyes was more than just a reflection, that Madoka wouldn't have to go again.
But all Homura saw was death.
