You hiss out a breath, mind whirling as you try to figure out what to
do.
You don't
want Oriko to die. Not yet, anyway.
You grab and
pull the enormous,
malignant mass of Grief free of Oriko's gem, leaving it sparkling again. The Grief comes free in ropy, syrup-like streamers that drift aimlessly in the air, before slowly dissipating into the more familiar billowing vapour of your Grief clouds. A
lot of it.
Pythia
Homura's tentative smile morphs into a puzzled frown, but you hold up a hand to stall her objections for a moment. She holds her peace for now.
"
Mami!" you call.
"
Sabrina? What's happening?" she replies.
"
It's over. We're OK, and Oriko and Kirika are down for the count," you inform her.
"
Oh, thank goodness," Mami says in relief. You can sense her stopping to lean against something for a moment.
"
No need to push yourself, Mami," you tell her. "
We'll be with you as soon as we can, OK?"
"
Alright," Mami says. Nevertheless, your senses tell you that she's pushed herself off, and is continuing to make her way over.
You look at Homura. "Nicely done, Homura. I want
answers from Oriko, first, and Mami isn't going to deal well with all of this," you say, gesturing at the nearly beheaded corpse of Oriko. There's a pool of blood, gleaming crimson under the starlight, slowly spreading out from it, and her neck as well as most of her fac- you look away, hastily. "Could you... use your timestop?"
Homura's lips tighten. "We'll talk." She sets her MG3 down beside her, and grabs the edge of the shield with her free hand. She tries turning it, but her hands simply slip across the surface, shield stubbornly refusing to turn. Her frown deepens, and she grips it more firmly, before giving it a sharp yank.
With a crunching noise, the shield turns, gears grating over each other. Instead of the expected discontinuity of timestop, though, shattered cogwheels rain out of the mechanism, pinging over the ground as Homura stares in consternation. She cranks it back into the neutral position again.
Her hands are shaking.
Homura moves her hand slowly across her shield, the purple light of her magic trailing after it, and the entire shield becomes limned with a dim glow, St. Elmo's fire cast in purple. Hesitantly, Homura turns it aga-
-in. Homura's got her arm on your shoulder, and the world is in the grey hues of the timestop. You breathe out a sigh of relief, before you catch sight of Homura's rather displeased expression.
"We went through all this trouble to kill Oriko," Homura states, frowning heavily at you
. "And you want to bring her
back?"
[] Write-in
=====
Homura has certain misgivings.