As Sunday arrived, many Madoka Magica fans were still shaken.

Episode 10 had dropped a bombshell, revealing the truth behind Homura's time-traveling struggle. With only two episodes left, fans were on edge, waiting to see how it would all end.

So many questions remained unanswered.

Would Madoka become a magical girl?

Would she succumb to the same tragic fate as the others?

What was Kyubey's final plan?

Could Sayaka and Kyoko be saved?

At last, as the clock struck midnight, episode 11 aired.

It began with Kyubey explaining to Homura why Madoka's magical aptitude was so extraordinarily high.

Countless time loops had intertwined across parallel timelines—all anchored to Madoka. Each time Homura rewound time for Madoka's sake, she unknowingly concentrated karmic weight onto Madoka herself. The more loops, the greater Madoka's potential as a magical girl.

But with that potential came a curse: if Madoka were to become a magical girl, the witch she would eventually transform into would be so powerful, she could destroy the world in mere days.

The revelation left Homura shaken. The audience, too, was stunned.

Sure, Madoka seemed destined to become a magical girl with unlimited power, but that same fate would doom the world.

With no choice, Homura made a last stand against Walpurgisnacht, unleashing every weapon she had stored—missiles, tanks, bombs, rifles.

But it wasn't enough.

Defeated and broken, she considered using her time magic again, but realized it would only further amplify Madoka's karmic burden.

Trapped in despair, her soul gem began to cloud. She was on the verge of becoming a witch herself.

And just as darkness was about to take her…

Madoka appeared.

The background music swelled. Viewers leaned forward. Her expression, calm, resolute.

"Homura," Madoka said softly, "I'm sorry."

She had made her decision.

And the episode ended there.

The excited expressions of the viewers froze in place. A wave of exasperation washed over them. Cliffhanger.

Old fans of Haruki's works were already numb to this kind of emotional torment. But new fans of Madoka Magica? They were devastated.

"Another week of waiting? Are you kidding me?!"

Despite the frustration, discussions flooded online forums, chat rooms, and fan pages.

At this point, Madoka Magica had firmly secured its place as the king of winter anime. By the end of episode 10, the series' average viewership across platforms had surpassed 11 million—the third series that year in Japan to break that mark.

Animation sites, bloggers, and agencies rushed to cover the show. Other titles, like into the Abyss, which had enjoyed some spotlight before, now faded into the background.

Even inside T-Bone Animation, director Saya and her team, who had worked on Into the Abyss, had to admit defeat. She had assessed her own show's finale and knew it lacked the emotional impact to surpass Madoka.

If you lose, you lose.

-----

After the meeting on Friday, everyone on the Evermark studio team had thrown themselves fully into the pre-production of Code Geass. The success of Madoka Magica had given them confidence, and the team now worked with a clear goal in mind: to secure the best possible staff before production truly began.

Kazuya, Haruki, and the rest of the core team had spent days reaching out to world-class names for the key positions—Sound Director, Animation Director, Producer. They knew such roles would shape the series, but there was a problem: most top figures were booked a year in advance. By now, it was already too late to secure anyone.

Even so, Kazuya refused to give up. He sent out proposal after proposal. Some went to semi-retired veterans, others to overseas talent. By Tuesday, he had booked a flight, determined to personally present the story to one of the most respected candidates for Art Director.

Saturday, Tokyo

Though Masafumi Mima had stepped into semi-retirement a year ago, he still came to his office almost every day. There wasn't much work waiting for him, but the habit of showing up and immersing himself in the industry's atmosphere kept him grounded. He had lived his life in this world; even stepping back, he couldn't let go of the energy he once thrived on.

When his assistant entered with a stack of folders, he leaned back in his chair.

"So, Mina," he asked casually, "what's today's agenda? Anything worthwhile for me?"

She glanced down at the papers. "A few scripts came in from big studios, including overseas. But honestly… nothing that fits your level." She paused, then pulled one out from the pile. "This one, though—I think you might like. They only sent half the story so far, but I looked through it. It's worth your time."

Masafumi raised an eyebrow and reached for the folder. On the cover, bold letters stood out:

Code Geass – by Mizushiro

"Oh?" His lips curved slightly. "Isn't that the new mangaka who's been making waves lately? Seems like he wants to take things to the international level."

By now, anime had become a well-established industry. Every country had its own studios, but the biggest players remained Japan and the U.S.—their works carried the strongest global reach. Other countries, had healthy domestic markets, but they weren't yet on the same level internationally. And when it came to awards, there were global award shows where studios from around the world competed for Anime of the Year, with Japan and the U.S. often battling fiercely for the top honors.

Masafumi flipped open the folder and began to read. Minutes passed quietly in the office, the sound of turning pages breaking the silence. His expression shifted as he went on—curiosity sharpening into interest, interest hardening into excitement. By the time he reached the end of part one, his hands tightened around the pages.

The last time he had felt this kind of spark was years ago, at his peak, when he had directed the work that earned him his first the World Best Sound Director award. The rush of possibility, the sense that something groundbreaking was in front of him, it all came flooding back.

He set the folder down, almost reluctantly.

"Mina," he said quickly, "what else have you heard about this project?"

She straightened. "Their studio's new, but they've already released three works. One is expected to win Anime of the Year. Another might take runner-up. And the third… at least second place in its season. They're ambitious, I've heard they're preparing a budget of 3 to 4 billion yen. They've been reaching out to talent at your level, but as you know, most people are already booked solid for the year ahead."

She hesitated, then added, "Today, Kazuya came back from his U.S. and U.K. trip. He managed to secure The Aesthetic Auteur as Art Director, and The Wizard Behind the Curtain as Producer."

Masafumi froze, his breath catching. "Wait… you're telling me Wes Merrick and David Whitlock are coming to Japan?"

Memories stirred. Years ago, he had worked with them on a single project. It hadn't lived up to expectations when it was released. But over time, it had quietly gained a following, now regarded as a cult classic.

The thought of reuniting with them sent a thrill through him.

"Call Kazuya," Masafumi said firmly. "And arrange a meeting with Mizushiro. The sooner, the better."

He glanced down at the folder in his hand.

"Maybe once more," he murmured.

[Note: At first, I considered gathering everyone individually, but it would have taken more chapters and felt like an industry blog, so I cut that part. If you want that kind of detailed scene, I might add it in the future since I had originally written it but removed it to keep the novel from stalling.]

(TL:- if you want even more content, check out p-a-t-r-e-o-n.com/Alioth23 for 60+ advanced chapters)