Far above, the Urga Mstitel helicopter sliced through the sky, golden armor catching the stormlight. Inside, the atmosphere was heavy—no one dared break the silence that pressed in after everything they'd seen below. They all knew who was left behind, fighting on the ground. The enemy's name—Lucifero—hung in the cabin like a curse.
Power, restless as ever, stormed to the cockpit, boots thudding. "I'm bored! Give me the controls, I wanna fly."
Kobeni's. gaze never wavering from the horizon. The girl who once flinched at her own shadow was gone—grief had carved . She didn't even glance at Power. "No."
Power huffed, crossing her arms, but Himeno tried to cut the tension, forcing a smile as she leaned forward from her seat. "Hey, Kobeni-chan Kang Woo just hand you this military chopper? , it's… pretty cool. And gold, too. You gotta admit that's a hell of a flex."
Kobeni didn't answer, eyes fixed ahead, guiding the bird between the broken clouds with surgical precision. Her hands never shook.
From the passenger seat, Kishibe's phone buzzed. He fished it out, thumb sliding across the screen before putting it to his ear. "Kishibe here."
On the other end, a voice barked loud enough to rattle the earpiece. One of the higher-ups from Public Safety. "Where the hell are you, Kishibe?! And where's Barem and his hybrid squad?!"
Kishibe's jaw flexed. He already knew the truth — either Barem and his freak show were in pieces under Makima's chains, or they were still pinned to the earth by that suffocating gravity back in Aokigahara. He didn't care which. He exhaled through his nose, annoyed, and gave them the kind of answer they deserved.
"I'm in a pisser, so buzz off. Trying to fix my damn trouser button."
"You think this is a joke?!" the higher-up snapped. "Turn on the fucking news right now and look at what's happening! And if Makima's still breathing, drag her ass back here. If she's still got any use—"
Kishibe hung up without a word. ended it mid-yell, sliding the phone back into his coat like the conversation never happened.
From the side window, Aki's voice cut in — low, uneasy. "...Oh no."
Denji leaned forward, following Aki's line of sight. Black columns of smoke clawed into the sky from deep within Tokyo, twisting upward like funeral pyres. "That mean what I think it means?" Denji asked.
Kishibe eyes sharpened. "That shitty man in a suit wasn't lying. City's gone to hell."
Aki leaned forward from his seat, voice steady but edged. "Kobeni… we need to turn back to Tokyo."
Kobeni's gaze didn't leave the horizon. "No can do. Kang Woo's final order was to keep everyone safe and far away from here. That's what I'm doing."
Denji twisted in his seat, frowning. "Huh? But, like… aren't you Public Safety too? Ain't friends supposed to help each other or somethin' like that?"
A sharp smack cracked across the back of his head. "That idea came from me, actually," Power declared, chin high, a smug grin plastered across her face. "I am the brains of this operation!"
Kobeni's hands stayed steady on the controls. Her voice was cold, nothing like the trembling girl she used to be. "My affiliation was always with Kang Woo. Now he's gone… I have no one else. After I drop you all in the safe zone, do whatever you like."
'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
In the heart of ruined Tokyo, the streets were nothing but fractured concrete and twisted steel. Armored columns pushed forward in desperation, tanks locking into staggered formations as infantry advanced in waves. Yet every step toward Lucifero was met with annihilation—gravity magic crushed entire squads flat, bodies pressed into the ground until bones splintered like glass. Tank hulls warped inward, turrets ripped from their mounts and tossed aside like scraps of metal.
Lucifero stood in the center of the devastation, unmoved. His gaze swept lazily over the battlefield, but his focus never wavered—the whore herself.
This world… it has no mana, he thought, a pulse of irritation. That redheaded whore wields black flame… and those flying runes.
His senses sharpened. A ripple brushed against his mana detection—quick, almost imperceptible. He reacted instantly. Gravity crashed down in a crushing wave, leveling an entire row of storefronts into mangled debris.
When the dust cleared, Makima was nowhere in sight.
Then, the street erupted. A writhing tide of rats burst forth, swarming over the rubble. From their midst, Makima emerged—her expression calm, her movements precise. In her hands was the Red Leash, the Gunblade . The blade bore glowing crimson runes, each pulsating like a heartbeat, while its Beretta-shaped hilt in her grip—.
Makima swung One fluid slash— Lucifero roared as one of his massive fingers spun away, hitting the ground d. Rage distorted his features. Already Damaged before, now humiliated further, he lashed out. His colossal fist slammed into Makima's face with monstrous force.
Blut Vene flared in a lattice of glowing veins beneath her skin, absorbing much of the blow—but the sheer weight still bore down on her. Heavy… she thought, her teeth grinding as her head snapped sideways from the impact.
The strike hurled her across the fractured street, her boots carving lines into the broken pavement. She wasted no time—darkness poured from her fingertips, flowing over her face and erasing the bruise like ink dissolving into water.
Before Lucifero could close the distance, she dissolved into the writhing horde of rats once more, vanishing beneath the debris, waiting for her moment.
Lucifero's lips peeled back in a snarl. His opponent was gone—again. The ground cracked under his feet as his voice boomed across the ruins.
"Gravity Magic: Presence of Demon King!"
The air warped. Gravity surged outward in every direction, blanketing a hundred meters around him in crushing weight rather than focusing on a single point as he usually did. Pavement buckled, vehicles caved in, and fractured glass rained from collapsing structures.
Then—a shadow passed overhead. A building, wrenched from its foundations, crashed against his frame. The dense shell of his mana skin absorbed the blow without injury, but the insult burned deeper than any wound. A lump of stone, concrete, and steel had dared to touch him.
Rage flared hotter.
"Gravity Magic: Heavy Infighting Gladiator!" Chunks of nearby buildings wrenched free, drawn to his hands. Under immense pressure, they compressed into the shape of a massive handheld blade—jagged, yet solid enough to cleave tanks in half.
His voice thundered. "Where are you? Come and face me, whore!"
His gaze swept the wreckage, and then—there. A silhouette flickered in the alleyway.
"That's where you are!" "Gravity Magic: Evil God Pressure Craft!"
Two colossal swords of compressed concrete and steel materialized at his sides. With a single motion, he hurled them into the alley. The impact shattered walls, sending splinters of stone and rebar flying, but no cry of pain followed..
Lucifero's teeth ground together. He shifted tactics,. "What happened to the citizens here, whore? Don't tell me that because of our little fight, they all died. Poor little things…"
His mana detection spiked—a flicker behind him. He swung the gladiator blade in a brutal arc, cleaving through the air. The strike bit into the corner of a nearby building, carving it apart, but it found no flesh. Above, the sky filled with the sound of cascading ruin as slabs of concrete and steel plummeted toward the streets.
From somewhere unseen, makima voice cut through the chaos—cold, mocking. "You're getting slow, . What, you think I was running away? Did you think I cared about sacks of meat crawling around here? Did you forget—I was discarded by my country. Now, I'm free from the collar that chained me."
Makima descended in a blur, a single dark wing unfurling from her back—woven entirely from her darkness manipulation. Her grip tightened on the Red Leash sword, the blade reinforced with every ounce of killing intent she could muster. The intensified gravity around Lucifero only fed her momentum, hurling her toward him with twice the speed, twice the force.
Steel met stone. The edge of her weapon slammed against his neck—only for his mana skin to flare in a blinding ripple. At the last instant, Lucifero had reinforced that single point, focusing every ounce of defense there.
Makima's eyes widened. She'd been baited.
Lucifero's grin split wide, monstrous. At this range, there was nowhere for her to run. His fist—bolstered by Gravity Magic: Heavy Infighting Gladiator—swung up in a brutal arc.
Makima crossed both arms, Blut Vene igniting across her skin, the blue lattice catching the blow. But the impact spiderwebbed cracks through her defense, the sheer force rattling her bones.
He didn't stop. With a guttural roar, Lucifero lunged, one massive hand clamping around her throat. He hurled her downward with earth-shattering force. The ground cratered on impact, dust billowing upward in choking clouds.
Then came the stomps. Over and over, each one reinforced with crushing gravity magic.
"My body—"
"YOUUU—"
"Magicless—"
"SCUMMMM!"
Makima's arms shattered under the weight, her legs giving way with a sickening crack. She forced her focus into keeping her torso intact, her Blut Vene flaring desperately to protect her vitals. Pain clawed up her spine, but her mind churned coldly through the agony. Books I read said miracles happen in situations like this… what a lie.
The crater deepened, rubble collapsing inward with each stomp. She knew the truth of her problem now—her Quincy abilities and her Commandment powers couldn't run in tandem. One had to give. Blut Vene was only a stopgap, a first-aid measure, nothing like the regenerative capabilities of her darkness manipulation.
Lucifero lifted his foot high, ready to bring it crashing down on her neck and end it.
Tank shells screamed through the air, slamming into the ground around them.
Lucifero, the King of the Qliphoth devils—his pride greater than the underworld itself—snapped his head toward the intrusion.
"Fuck Off !" With a single swing of his arm, gravity surged outward, smashing the armored columns into twisted heaps of steel.
From the smoke, squads of soldiers poured forward, rifles raised. Their boots pounded against the fractured streets, muzzles flashing in desperate bursts.
It didn't matter. One swing from Lucifero's massive concrete blade tore through the air, and in an instant the front ranks were nothing but a bloody mist, their remains splattering across the ruins.
The sky howled. A fighter jet cut through the clouds, engines screaming as it dove into attack range. Missiles streaked down in a trail of fire, locking onto the towering devil.
Lucifero didn't flinch. He gripped his weapon, swung once, and hurled it skyward with impossible force. The slab of steel and concrete punched through the jet's fuselage, splitting it apart in a spray of shrapnel and flame.
"You irritate me," he growled, voice rumbling like an earthquake.
Through the haze of dust and fire, a lone figure limped into view. Barem Bridge—half-burned, scarred deep across his face, one arm missing entirely where Makima's hellblaze had refused to let it regenerate. Behind him, a cluster of soldiers moved nervously, only to throw down their rifles the moment Lucifero's gaze swept their way.
Barem raised both hands, trying to speak over the pounding in his own chest. "My horned friend… I don't know what your deal with Makima is, but I—"
The words never finished. Lucifero's massive hand shot forward, clamping around Barem's face with crushing force. In a single, brutal motion, he slammed him downward. The ground split open in a deafening crack, a crater a hundred meters wide blooming outward from the impact.
"Dissapear, magicless creature," Lucifero rumbled,
This was the second time Barem Bridge had been turned into a sack of meat—first by Makima, her fists reinforced with glowing blue veins, and now by this towering monster. Lucifero tossed Barem's limp body into a nearby building without even looking at him, his focus locked on his true target—Makima.
makima stood her ground, but her breathing was heavy, ragged. Her left arm hung at an unnatural angle, bones twisted, as darkness manipulation worked to repair it. Her left leg trembled, worn down by exhaustion,.
Lucifero stepped forward to end it— . A massive fox devil's head erupted from nowhere, jaws clamping down on Lucifero's torso in a sudden, bone-crunching bite.
At the same time, a spectral ghost devil's hand shot out from the haze, wrapping around Makima and yanking her nearly three hundred meters away from the devil's crushing presence.
Makima, still catching her breath, didn't even turn to look at her saviors. Her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Idiots. Why didn't you just run the hell away, ?"
Through the smoke, Division 4 emerged—Aki with his katana at the ready, Himeno with a sly grin, and Denji with his trademark reckless spark.
Himeno flashed a grin,. "You owe me for saving your life, Makima-san."
Aki's eyes didn't waver. "Whether you're the Control Devil or not… whether you've been fired by the Prime Minister or not… you're still our best squad leader."
Makima's eyes narrowed, her lips curling. "You're all a big fucking idiot."
Denji snorted, revving his chainsaws with a sharp grin. "Idiots stick together. Let's make it fun this time."