Well, Ludmilla thought. At least nobody seemed to care about her down here. She lay on her side, curled up in the foetal position, glancing at the fight through half-lidded eyes. Maybe all the magical girls just thought she was normal. Good for them, too. They could go ahead and waste all their despair on this fight and squabble over the grief seed later. That is, if none of them decided to fight for it. Or worse, had abilities to search and destroy other magical girls.

Almost as if some cosmic entity had been listening on her thoughts, something large and metallic came skittering near her little hidey-hole, with far too many bits of chain and whirling scythe blades attached to it to have been though up by anyone who wasn't a magically enhanced teenager. She kicked it away, hurriedly, and looked up and down searching for whoever had dropped it. Most likely, it was the young blonde with the gash on her leg maybe some ten feet away, executing a beautiful swan dive onto the cobblestones. Which would bring her down to her level. She'd see her. Crap. Well, as long as she didn't make eye contact she'd probably be fine. Just look harmless and nobody would try to kill her with a blade-scythe-chain thingamajig.