by Avell Kro
“— to protect world peace!” a politician was shouting from a podium.
“World peace! World peace! World peace!” a crowd shouted. “World peace! World peace! World
peace!”
The woman pulled the image, and it zoomed forward to another scene. The same politician,
zooming through the air with a mob of flying magical girls behind her. Her flowing robes were
bloodred, as were her wings. There were buildings in the distance.
“That looks like Mágico,” Kendra commented. “That’s the style of magical girl outfit they wear out there. Is this from the revolution?”
The born mage hobo said nothing, and the scene changed.
Now there was a terrible battle. Very little bloodshed, since most magical girl powers didn’t shed
blood and most magical girl forms didn’t bleed, but there were thousands dying. One girl engulfed
a soldier in what looked like cotton candy, then another soldier launched at her and mowed her
down with bullets. She fell to the ground, detransforming, and he shot the bul ets through her
again, killing her human life as wel .
“What in the world?!” Kendra screamed. “You don’t do that! Killing a magical girl form, that I can
get, but you don’t kill someone permanently! ”
The born mage’s eyes hardened, and she changed scenes.
“If you see a kid on the battlefield, do not let it live!” an enemy commander was shouting. “I don’t
care if you know you killed its magical form! The younger they are, the more likely they are to get
magic all over again! And those things aren’t innocent! They mean to destroy our entire country!”
“Moron,” Kendra muttered. “It’s true that younger girls don’t have to be as pure as older ones, but
there’s still a minimum level. If they’re attacking you, you clearly deserved it.”
“But they’re kids,” a subordinate objected. “We can’t kill kids —”
The superior’s fist thumped down. “They’re killing us, aren’t they? We don’t have a spare life we can just throw away!”
“Nobody throws a magical girl life away,” Kendra said, riled. “There’s no guarantee that you could
become a magical girl again. The vast majority of girls who die as magical girls don’t!”
The scene dissolved, and a new one took its place.
“Kill the hostages,” the woman with the bloodred robes said, stretching out her hand.
“But they’re innocent!” a girl with an Australian accent protested. She was dressed much like a
figure skater, and wore ice skates. “We can’t do that!”
“We said we would if they didn’t release our allies, didn’t we?” the woman snapped. “We’ll lose all
credibility if we don’t follow through on our threats.”
“I told you not to make that threat, didn’t I?” an Asian girl said coolly. She wore what looked like a kimono and had flowers drifting lazily through her hair. “It didn’t work well against Emperor
Kami, and it won’t work well here.”
“Thank you for your opinion, Namikaze,” the woman snapped. “But I remind you that we still
overthrew the man.”
Oh. Kendra’s mouth opened. She’d been thinking she was watching scenes from the Mágico
revolution, when magical girls had freed a portion of Brazil from the tyranny of its dictator who
had persecuted magical girls, but now she realized she wasn’t. Emperor Kami was still on the
throne of Japan.
Which means . . . Kendra thought. Which means . . . this is the future?
That would make more sense. The woman had said she could see the future. Maybe she could
show it, as well. It was a fascinating power, one that Kendra would have found extremely
admirable if it had belonged to a magical girl, but unfortunately, being from a born mage, that made
it suspicious. It could very well be an illusion power, for instance. Everything she was watching
could be fiction.
But there’s something . . . Kendra thought, unsettled. There’s something that seems . . . familiar . . .
No. Kendra shook her head. She’d never seen that woman before. What was familiar was the
costume, which was rather like one she had been designing for her next power-up. She’d already
planned out Florence’s, which would be that color of bloodred, so that she’d stop complaining
about her costume being pink.
Maybe not that shade, after all, Kendra thought, if there’s a villain masquerading as a magical girl who dresses like that.
Because that was clearly what was going on here. If those future scenes she was currently seeing
were real, it was a villain who had infiltrated the whole magical girl community and made them
think she was one of them. Kendra wasn’t sure how, since magical girls were the only ones with
magic that allowed for transformation, but perhaps a tricky villain from another world could
pretend they did through illusion magic.
The only question, Kendra thought, watching the woman kill off the hostages herself, is, why did
this hobo come to me?
As she watched the army of magical girls overrun the world, shattering cities, the answer became clear.
Because we’re the only ones who can stop it. We’re the ones who are meant to save the world from
that charlatan monster. Even a born mage doesn’t want to see the world ruled and destroyed by
somebody from another world, and if she sees the future, she knows we need this information so that
we can stop her.
The moon exploded in the born mage’s hands, scattering fragments across the sky. A terrible
earthquake roared.
Of course, Kendra thought, nodding. She had never failed to do what was necessary, no matter
what the cost. She would do whatever she had to to protect world peace.
“Do you understand?” the born mage asked softly, as devastation continued spreading with her
hands.
Yes, Kendra tried to answer, but she couldn’t manage to speak. The magnitude of the disaster was
too big to take in. The responsibility to stop it was too tremendous. But she mustn’t let fear stand
in her way. The world needed her.
Kendra licked her lips and swallowed to allow her dry throat to recover. “Is that . . . our new arch-
nemesis?” she managed.
For a moment, the visions ceased. The hobo was staring at her with what looked like pity. Then
the born mage twitched her fingers, and a new scene appeared. Florence was there.
Kendra recognized her in an instant. She had the same face, the same dreadlocks, and a new
costume that looked nothing like Kendra had designed for her friend’s power-up — typical
Florence.
The woman in the bloodred wings was standing there, too, with her back to Florence.
This is the part where we defeat her, Kendra thought. Or — no. Is the hobo warning me that
Florence is going to die in the attempt?
Her heart squeezed at the thought. It was an awful idea. If Florence was going to die, then she
should let her friend quit. Kendra could save the world by herself if she had to.
But then the woman turned around, and she looked very, very familiar. The way she’d held her
face before, such rage and fury, had seemed clearly villainish. But the way she looked at Florence
now was different.
The woman’s face now looked familiar.
Horrifyingly familiar.
“Kendra, you can’t take civilians hostage!” the future Florence said angrily. “If you do that, you’ll be
crossing the line!”
; “They keep on killing our allies,” the other woman snapped. “Not just their magical girl forms, but
their human lives. They won’t negotiate. They won’t stop. We have to do whatever’s necessary to
save more lives.”
“But their families are innocent!” the future Florence cried.
“And so are our allies,” the woman said quietly. “I won’t have to make good on our threat. It won’t
come to that. But I have to make it if we want those girls to come home alive.”
“But even threatening —”
“Do you want our allies returned, or not?” the woman roared in fury.
The scene waited, and the born mage waited silently.
“So . . . so our arch-nemesis looks like that,” Kendra said shakily. “She even has Florence fooled. Is .
. . is that a doppelganger?”
In answer, the born mage lifted her hands.
“We will do whatever is necessary,” a translucent image of Kendra as she was now said, “to protect
world peace.”
Yel ing at Florence. “To protect world peace!”
Standing before the FBI branch office. “To protect world peace.”
Speaking at their high school graduation. “To protect world peace . . .”
Standing over a dead Felicity. “To protect world peace!”
Now in the bloodred costume. “To protect world peace.”
Founding the Magical Girl Union. “To protect world peace!”
Leading the mob of magical girls following her into the horrible, bloodless battlefield. “World
peace! World peace! World peace!”
There was silence as the images faded and the born mage lowered her arms.
“No,” she said. “I wish it were.”
“That’s not me!” Kendra screamed. “That can’t be me!”
“I can show you five complete paths from now to then,” the born mage said. “It’s rapidly becoming
your most likely future.”
“NO! YOU’RE LYING! I’D NEVER TURN EVIL! NEVER!! ” Kendra screamed.
Around her she felt feathers flying. She realized dimly that she must be detransforming. It was as
if part of her wanted to shove the magic away. As if doing so would make the whole future dissolve
and vanish.
“Fine. Ignore my warning,” the hobo said coldly. “Your choice.”
“But . . . but I wouldn’t,” Kendra murmured, stumbling over the words. She was too stunned and
lost to make any coherent argument. “I’m good. ”
“And let’s hope you stay that way,” the woman said, shoving the bloodred-woman future into her
face.
Kendra burst into tears.
***
Did I go too far? Chronos wondered, unsure of herself. She never knew how to talk to people. She
hadn’t meant to make anyone cry.
On the other hand . . . wasn’t that a good thing? If this conversation made a strong impression,
maybe it would stop that future. Maybe it would end it permanently. Chronos had no way to
know; she couldn’t see any futures that she herself was in, and right now, this girl’s future was
clearly dependent on their conversation.
Clearly, because it was in flux, and almost all of the girl’s futures were now invisible to her.
What can I do? Chronos wondered. What should I do?
She knew what she wanted to do. She wanted to just walk away. She’d gotten here by teleporter, a magical device her uncle had made, so it would take no time at all to get right back home and
resume ignoring the problem, like she’d wanted to do in the first place.
But . . .
But what if she’s not convinced? Chronos wondered. What if I only made things worse? What if I
made her more determined, and it makes everything happen sooner?
That was a risk she didn’t want to take. She wanted the future resolved. She wanted the
nightmares over. She wanted to go home and know that she’d never have to return again. She had
to make sure that future was gone now.
“The thing about evil magical girls,” Chronos said, “is that most times corruption is a gradual
process. The magic system’s too merciful. Magical girls don’t lose their powers when they start
going corrupt — they lose their powers when they finish. Which is why evil magical girls are
possi—”
“MAGICAL GIRLS DON’T TURN EVIL!!” Kendra screamed, leaping to her feet.
Chronos was about to snap back, but then realized that the girl was teetering on her feet, her eyes
wild, looking unstable.
“Except for the rare cases that do,” Chronos said gently.
Kendra burst into tears again and collapsed back on the ground.
Is that . . . it? Chronos wondered, unsettled. Can I go now?
She felt guilty to have caused such devastation, but she didn’t know how to fix it. She didn’t know if
comfort would help the future or hurt it. Besides, she didn’t know what comfort would even be
possible. She wasn’t going to lie to be reassuring.
Maybe she should go now. Yes, that was the best thing she could do. Chronos pulled the
teleporting watch her uncle had given her out of her pocket —
She stopped.
Maybe the problem was that Kendra felt trapped. Trapped in a future she couldn’t escape.
Trapped without hope or possibilities.
Chronos knew how it felt to be trapped.
That was why her uncle had given her this watch.
“Teleportation represents freedom,” he’d said. “You can go anywhere, do anything, and get away with it. Nobody can tell you what to do, and nobody can stop you.”
As a child, that had meant a lot to her. It had meant hiding from her older sister. It had meant
avoiding the head of the family. It had meant escaping from the entire villain lifestyle when she’d
been old enough to take care of herself.
Perhaps, to a corrupt magical girl, it would mean starting a fresh life somewhere new.
Chronos took a deep breath, and then placed the watch on the ground beside the sobbing magical
girl. This had been her childhood treasure, but she no longer needed it.
“Here,” Chronos said. “My uncle made this for me when I was down one day. It teleports. It’s
useful.” She hesitated. “I’ll book a flight home.”
A crowd had gathered at some point to watch them, and Chronos used her elbows to shove people
aside as she walked briskly down the sidewalk. She felt naked without the watch, without a way to
escape, but nobody challenged her.
She’d have to book a flight with the Deathwaves, of course, because she had no legal passport and
had never bothered purchasing a fake one. But that would be easy to enough to do. It took her
only a few seconds to find the future of a random Deathwave minion and to follow it to the nearest
office.
Chronos turned a corner, away from the crowd, and breathed a sigh of relief. She headed toward
the Deathwaves’ office.
She had a long flight home back to Greece. She wasn’t looking forward to it.
Chapter Four: The Decision
A crowd of people gathered around Kendra, and some of them started asking her if something was
wrong.
Are you kidding me? Kendra thought furiously. Leave me alone! Why don’t you go chase after the
born mage, if you’re so worried?
But then she realized that the born mage hadn’t looked like a villain. She’d looked like a hobo. And
Kendra had been transformed. As far as they were concerned, all the magic had been hers.
For some reason, this realization left Ken
dra feeling even more depressed than she had been
before.
My magic failed to warn me that I was doing anything wrong, she thought. Instead, a born mage
had to. A born mage.
Everyone knew born mages were evil. If a born mage had needed to stop her, she’d been destined
to become a nightmare indeed.
Forget being the hero, Kendra thought bitterly, I’m not even better than a villain.
She wished she could believe the born mage had been lying, but that just didn’t fit. Too many of
the details had meshed with Kendra’s own plans for the future, including ones she’d never written
down or told anybody.
The bloodred woman’s hairstyle.
Her costume’s shape.
The Magical Girl Union.
Wel , to be fair, Kendra had joked with Florence about the need for magical girls to have their own
governing body. Only magical girls could fairly judge magical girls, after all. But she had never said
she’d been serious.
Unless the born mage was a mind-reader, she doubted that all of those details could have been so
accurate.
For a moment, Kendra’s heart lifted at the possibility. Born mages only ever had one power, so mind-reading and illusion couldn’t happen in one person, but what if there had been a second
born mage involved?
This could just be a plot to convince her to quit her powers, right before the world needed her.
Kendra brightened at the idea. That was it. She’d just been lied to. It was going to be fine. The
world still needed her.
That thought sustained her enough to stand up, to inform the crowd briskly that she was fine, and
to start walking home.
But as she headed down the sidewalk, alone now, her pace flagged. Her shoulders grew tighter and
tighter.
Be honest with yourself. Is that the most likely explanation?
The problem was . . . the problem was, there was one simple fact she couldn’t explain like that, and
that was the common sense point the hobo had made.
“Do you really think those people change drastically overnight?”
If magical girls could be evil . . . if they could turn corrupt gradually and still have their powers
until the process was complete . . .
Wel , then it made perfect sense that Kendra might be one of them.
Kendra’s pace slowed to a dead stop. Despair washed over her.