Chapter Text
Madoka had a sinking suspicion that everything she was doing was going wrong even though she was doing it all right.
When she opened her eyes, a sparkling beam of light had overtaken all of her vision. She closes them again, feeling loose clothing float around her, her entire body weightless. Madoka felt a swirl of wind flood through her, and when she finally feels the light blur away from her vision—a number of curses erupt around her as people burst into complaint.
“Him? Again?”
“We’re doomed if he repeats last time.”
“He can’t just stay down can he?”
“Can’t he give it up by now?”
Madoka opens her eyes, startled. A number of things were wrong.
She was in the sky. How? Two, why did they refer to her as “him”? Three, why were they speaking Mandarin? How she could understand it? Even looking at the people around her, she knew that she didn’t belong there. She didn’t recognize the clothing style, she assumed it was Chinese, but it wasn’t the modern clothing she was used to her friends wearing. A wild thought hit her.
Am I in a different multiverse?
It could explain a lot of things. Sure it wouldn’t explain how she was a man, and definitely not how she understood Mandarin, but considering she still felt her powers coursing through her; Madoka was a soul in someone else’s body.
It made the most sense. The problem was they hated this person apparently, for reasons she had yet to identify. Fortunately as the crowd realized she was aware they were talking about her, they died down. Madoka doesn’t speak. She’s afraid she will try and she’ll speak another language. She didn’t know Mandarin, and she wasn’t going to risk trying to even if she could understand it now.
She studies the crowd, wondering if a familiar face has come to this land with her. None have.
She stands still, her breath sharpening as she looks around. Madoka wasn’t home right now. She wasn’t around anybody familiar. She wanted to go home.
If there was a home she could go to.
What if the person whose body she overtook was in hers?
She didn’t know how much you could trust a stranger in her body. Though she thinks back to the words someone said, “stay down” and “again.” She must’ve reached a level of something, and it had to be something that was achieved multiple times. Around her, there were palaces.
Hundreds. Hundreds of palaces. The people here were dressed far more regal than at home. Seems like it’s the standard here. Only the rich could dress this well, but the way they behaved, the way they held themselves, there was only one explanation.
Madoka was a goddess in a god’s body.
There wasn’t any other explanation. Which meant she could use her abilities freely, which meant she wouldn’t throw people off if she left the scene as swift as she came.
She was still focused on two things. One, the person in her body must be the previous owner, and a god. Though considering their judgement, she was worried. What if she came home to doom and destruction? What if she came back to find her system shattered into a million pieces?
Witches back.
Her friends dead. Mami dead.
Everything broken and spiraling into a million pieces.
Madoka feels a heavy feeling rush through her body. Everything seems to spin, and her body seems to tilt. A sharp prick of pain jolts through her and she feels herself getting colder, colder and colder. She wanted to go home. Everything seems to sway around her and Madoka stumbles backwards. She didn’t want to be here. The sickening feeling coats her tongue and she can hear the mutters of people around her.
It’s confusion. And judgement. Madoka can’t even understand it. Her head is reeling.
Was this the consequence of overtaking an unfamiliar entity’s body? She hadn’t asked to. She wanted her body back. She didn’t even have the strength to stand. Her legs seem to give out and Madoka scrunches her eyes shut.
She wills herself away.
Somewhere far away from here. Somewhere that is home. Somewhere in her own body.