Okarun's mind raced through every volume and chapter he had ever analyzed.
In his world, being a nerd was a social handicap; here, it was the ultimate survival tool.
He knew Makima's endgame—her obsession with the Chainsaw Devil and her desire to create a "perfect" world by erasing concepts like death, war, and hunger.
He also knew that if he told her everything, he might become too valuable for her to ever let go.
"Ayase-san, stay ready,"
Okarun whispered, his voice vibrating with the mechanical hum of his Turbo Devil form.
He stepped forward, his white hair glowing faintly in the dim alley light.
"You want to know why you can't control us?"
Okarun asked, his eyes locking onto Makima's yellow, ringed pupils.
"It's because to us, your entire reality is a story. I know about the Four Horsemen. I know about the Hero of Hell. And I know exactly who—and what—is currently living inside that guy with the chainsaw dog."
Makima's smile didn't falter, but her gaze sharpened.
The atmosphere in the alleyway became suffocating.
A few crows perched on a nearby fence turned their heads in perfect unison to stare at Okarun.
"A story?"
Makima echoed softly.
"That is a very bold claim. If my world is a story, then you must know how it concludes. Do I achieve my peace?"
Okarun swallowed hard.
"In our world, the 'story' says you try to control the Chainsaw Devil to rewrite reality. But it also says that the more you try to grasp him, the more he slips away. You want to use him to delete the 'bad' things in the world, right? Hunger, War, Death..."
Momo's eyes widened.
"Wait, she wants to delete Death? Okarun, that's insane! That would mess up the whole balance of spirits and the afterlife!"
"That's why we need to leave,"
Okarun stated, his voice gaining confidence.
"We are variables you can't account for. My friend here has psychic powers that don't come from Devils, and I carry the power of an Urban Legend from a world where fear works differently. If we stay, we'll ruin your plans just by existing."
Makima remained silent for a long moment, contemplating the two teenagers.
She could feel it—the truth in his words.
They were fundamentally 'alien.' If she tried to incorporate them into her grand design, they might act as a poison to the narrative she was trying to weave.
"You are very clever for a boy who looks so frightened,"
Makima said, her voice like silk.
"Very well. There is a Devil currently held in a high-security Public Safety basement—the Phase Devil. Its power allows for the transition between layers of existence. Usually, it is useless because there is nowhere to go but here or Hell."
She turned slightly, gesturing toward the street.
"I will grant you access. In exchange, you will tell me one thing: In the 'story,' does the Chainsaw Devil ever truly give me the hug I want?"
Okarun felt a pang of pity. Despite how terrifying she was, he knew her true motivation was a twisted, lonely desire for an equal connection.
"The story says... he doesn't,"
Okarun said quietly.
"But the story also says that 'Control' can never have a relationship based on equality unless she changes who she is."
Momo grabbed Okarun's arm, sensing the sudden spike in tension.
"Okarun, we need to go. Now."
Makima's expression didn't change, but for a split second, the rings in her eyes seemed to tremble.
"I see. Then I suppose I should see you off before I decide to change the ending of the 'story' myself."