Quoted By:
>Weird Eyes: But please consider my request: Change your wish.
The /人◕ ‿‿ ◕人＼is the first to turn around towards the ruckus coming from behind the wooden door, but Helen is quick to shake both head and finger: they won't come out yet.
Helen: Playtime is after cookies.
Weird Eyes: Cookies?
Helen: They are cooking. I'm good at selling.
/人◕ ‿‿ ◕人＼: I can tell, Helena Troyes. You seem to have a talent for diplomacy!
Both girls cower as they notice the huge ear looming over them.
Weird Eyes: That's not the point, Holy Kyubey...
Helen: I want to ask my wish.
And then neither /人◕ ‿‿ ◕人＼ nor its escort answer, not on reflex.
Weird Eyes: Have you thought enough about your wish? Do the voices on your head not speak with doubt?
Helen: Yes. No. Yes?
Weird Eyes: I- see. May I ask what wish you decided on?
Helen: No. It's a surprise.
Weird Eyes: Oh. (she blinks and blinks) Does it involve me?
Helen: A little.
The lady in jeans doesn't answer, but neither seems at ease.
/人◕ ‿‿ ◕人＼: Then it's settled. Make a contract with me and become a Magical Girl, Helena Troyes!
Helen: A Magical Girl?
Weird Eyes: (somber) A Magical Girl.
Helen: No. I will become a Witch Hunter like you.
Most likely, neither of them even felt the need to clarify. Finally, Helen turns to Kyubey, walking under that bigass ear as if it was a parasol. She grabs the cat's whole head and pulls it to her chest, a bit too harshly- who meekly lets her, showing no emotion whatsoever. Clearing her throat hurts... but Helen feels, like never before, that she had never needed to be more clear. She whispers it as if she was reciting a poem:
Helen: I wish to be able to see the possible paths of things and will which path is taken.
/人◕ ‿‿ ◕人＼: The contract is complete.
Light eats her, strong enough to make the sun seem like a dying candle. One by one, with brutal clanking blasts, strips of armor are molded out of the atrocious light, given shape by an invisible hammer. First the wrists, then the shins over the legs, then only one gauntlet and only one greave, all thick and large, all black like dead lava. A sharp halo bursts forth from Helen's back spinning like a shredder as it grows; a weaker force holds it back, struggling in desperation. Scared shitless, blinded by the light, Helen's eyes dart for Weird Eyes, who doesn't do much besides being scared. Armor pops over every crack and crevice of her tiny body, then starts stacking when there is no more room, faster and faster, over and over-
until it all shatters.
(cont!)
