I stumbled up the steps of my apartment building, feeling the weight of my empty new backpack pressing down on my shoulders. My legs hurt and my feet were blistered. I felt like I was going to vomit at any moment, but I was so exhausted that I just didn't have the energy.

 

The surviving governments out here in Terra had taken a cue from Tokyo back at home, and developed small, efficient apartments for all the migrant students and workers from Earth. I'd lived in a tiny, cramped studio apartment in Harborwood.

 

I pulled the keys out of my pocket, and pressed the door to the apartment building open. After barreling through the door, I dropped my new backpack unceremoniously onto a chair, and slumped over into the comfort of my own bed, taking a second to breathe, and let out tears I didn't know I was even holding back. I screamed in rage and frustration, and some feelings that I didn't even understand myself.

 

The apartment was sparse, with nothing but a platform bed, a small table that I studied at with an old PC, a small TV with my dad's refurbished Playstation 2 attached, and a tiny kitchen. My place wasn't anything special, but it was mine. I slowly picked myself back off my comfortable mattress and walked over to slam the door behind me, before taking off the remains of my ruined uniform. Then, I flicked on the TV.

 

A couple of hours after I'd gotten patched up at the shelter, the city had given the green light on the Aberration incursion. The various alphabet soup branches of the armed forces, along with individual magical girls who weren't formally part of any government branch had cleaned up the city from any major Aberrations. The enormous dragon that bombed the city had been dubbed 'Fafnir', and there was footage all over the internet now of Radiant Rhiannon driving the beast off.

 

Without a central brain controlling the zombies, they had all fallen over like puppets with their strings cut. The government had sent in a swarm of drones and camera-carrying robots to check for remaining Aberrations, broken roads, and for survivors. There really weren't any official statements about what had caused the neg-entropy systems to fail. I knew that the government would only ever say that the systems had failed. That was likely what had caused the Aberration event downtown. What I couldn't figure out was why.

 

I sat there, in my tiny apartment amidst a dozen different news channels all playing with different ideas of the cause, listening to the grim news of how many were still in the hospital and how many were never recovered.

 

Then I walked to the middle of the room, and reached down to the ground underneath the bed, pulling off the lid of a box. Tucked away inside was my old sketchbook, the one I'd had when I was in my old home in Philadelphia. I smiled wistfully, pulling it out and flipping through the pages to my sketches of various iconic moments involving magical girls.

 

I turned to a new page, before taking out my set of colored pencils as well.

 

'Celestial Sonata' I wrote on the top of the page before writing 'Radiant Rhiannon' at the bottom.

 

Then, I started to sketch.

 

It wasn't a great sketch — my hands were in too much pain for that, but I wanted to capture this moment while I was still fresh in memory. It was a surprisingly simple scene to sketch out, but I enjoyed it. They really lived up to their names, and their battle with the Duke on top of the skyscraper was really something else. They were two of the most awe-inspiring heroes in the world, and both were local to the area.

 

Celestial Sonata wore a flowing lolita getup of frilly pink and gold, and her matching pink hair was curled up into drills, flowing down to her waist. Her eyes were a piercing blue, and her limbs were slender and graceful. She wore a crown of music notes in her hair, and her angelic wings were patterned with stars and silver trim. She was the very image of a magic girl that inspired hope and love across the world.

 

Radiant Rhiannon on the other hand, was tall and clad in a sleek, classy maroon dress with a golden trim, with glass heels that sparkled. Her eyes were a piercing gold, and she had flowing, red hair that reached down to her lower back. She wore heavy golden necklaces that represented the sun, and her golden wings were patterned with flames.

 

I smiled to myself, and I was about to put my sketchbook and drawing materials away.

 

I was so tired.

 

The TV was still playing in the background, but I didn't care to listen. I just wanted to sleep, to get away from the horrors I'd seen that day.

 

I was so, so very tired.

 

Then, I stopped and turned the page.

 

I sketched a veiled girl with a faint aura of green and a sword, standing against a backdrop of a raging inferno. She had an intense look of determination, and stood tall and proud on the page as I traced out the vague image of a city rooftop.

 

Closing my sketchbook, I walked to my bathroom. I approached the sink and stared at myself in the plain mirror. My almond brown eyes were bloodshot, and there were dark lines underneath them that were a testament to how tired I was. On top of that, my normally black hair was somehow singed here and there, and I looked like the image of a young, mad scientist.

 

I splashed some cool water on my face, and took a good look at myself.

 

"Chin up, Ikki," I said to myself, taking a deep breath and reaching for my toothbrush. "You'll be fine."

 

I took a deep breath, and I could smell my body odor — a mixture of dried blood, sweat and soot. I didn't manage to get a shower after the battle, and I still had a lot of cuts and bruises that ached with every movement. The nurse had spent hours extracting glass splinter after splinter out of my wounds with some kind of hi-tech device.

 

"It's been a long day," I thought to myself. I worked with a fatigued smile and took off my dress shirt. I pulled my undershirt off and threw both into the hamper.

 

I lifted my hand up to my neck and pushed up on the back of a chain pulling the pendant off the chain and carefully moving it next to the sink. Just for posterity's sake, I popped it open to stare at a picture of my old man and younger sister taken five years back. Then started to wash my face and brush my teeth, while flipping the shower on.

 

The hot water soothed my tense muscles in a way that was hard to explain. I let the water flow down my back as I took another deep breath, before applying soap and shampoo everywhere. I looked down at the water dripping off of my body and washing the blood and grime off of my hands. They really didn't tell you about how much soot clings onto everything. As I felt the slippery soak wash off me, I stared intently at the wound on my side, delivered to me by the Marquis-Class Mikado. A wound that should have been lethal in seconds. How had I even survived that? What caused the outbreak tonight?

 

Thoughts like that stayed me for a while. I wasn't sure how long.

 

Soon, I reached out and turned off the water.

 

I grabbed my towel, and dried myself off before drying my hair and throwing on a t-shirt and underwear. I fought back a yawn and pulled the curtains tight, cozying up into bed. I winced again as I felt my blisters and bruises cut away at me from odd angles.

 

I flipped the pages, turning to the latest scene I'd drawn. I looked at it and smiled, before scribbling in a small butterfly with two Xs for eyes. The TV was still blaring from the background, with a newscaster speaking of the number of people remaining unaccounted for.

 

I pulled my blanket up over my head, and settled into the bed. My mind was a blur of thoughts, but I didn't give them any heed. They'd all fade away in time. The TV was still playing in the background, but I didn't care to listen. I just wanted to sleep, to get away from the horrors I'd seen that day.

 

I was so, so tired.

 

My eyes drew heavy.

 

I was sure that everything would be okay in the end.

 

They had to be.