devil among worms (makima × worm c/o)

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A Devil Amongst Worms by Dellian

Worm & Chainsaw Man Xover Rated: M, English, Horror & Supernatural, Skitter, Makima, Words: 76k+, Favs: 556, Follows: 628, Published: Oct 28, 2022 Updated: Feb 19, 2024

182Chapter 1

Makima

I'll start with the Miso Soup.

Oh! I can dig it. Mm-hm~

Next, Ginger-Fried Meat and Onions.

That's pretty good!

So this is how you taste, Ms. Makima.

Makima trembled as she fell to her knees, her head cradled between both hands in a futile attempt to silence the world as a guttural scream of pain threatened to escape her throat. Only the self-discipline she had honed over several decades saved her from further humiliation. But despite her efforts, tears streamed down her cheeks, mingling with the raindrops that drenched her form and pelted the ground around her.

The noise of the city was a cacophony that assaulted her ears. The sound of honking cars, the crying of children, and the crashing of raindrops felt as if nuclear bombs were detonating beside her in repetition. Even the slightest of interruptions, whether it was the shift in the sand behind her or the rustling of leaves a city away, reverberated through her skull.

Makima almost wished she would go deaf it meant escaping this misery.

To add to her misfortune, it wasn't just her hearing that was affected. Every sense was in overdrive. Her smell, which had always been exceptional, was now beyond anything she could have imagined. The stench of the ocean salt was so overpowering that it almost felt like she could smell nothing at all. But she was not so fortunate. The rot of the trash, the putrid odor of sweat, and the nauseating scent of decay left her gagging and heaving, her body threatening to expel the empty contents of her stomach.

Desperate for relief, Makima tilted her face towards the sky, hoping that a centered focus could keep her nausea at bay but regretted the decision immediately. Her vision was just another source of torture. When Makima gazed at the Heavens, she found herself staring at the individual grains of sand on the moon, every tiny detail sharp and horrifyingly clear.

All around her, the world continued to swirl and thrum with life, a vibrant but murderous tapestry of sound, scent, and color. She could now understand why those under Halloween's power went insane if this was what awaited them. Makima shook as she desperately tried to regain control of herself. She did not know how much longer she could hold before she too lost her mind.

Makima struggled, as she pieced together her memories, hoping the cognitive toil could provide momentary relief. She thought back, searching for clues as to figure out the cause of her ailment.

Her plan had succeeded… Denji's contract was broken… She had faced Chainsaw Man….

… And she had lost.

Not to the Hero of Hell, but to a boy whose face she could not even recall.

The realization was startling as it was humiliating. So great was the shame of her defeat that she forgot her suffering. Makima laid where she was, kneeling in the rain as the weight of her failures tore apart her heart.

Even the pain was preferable.

But this was not the time to moan and lament. She was still alive. That meant it was not over.

Not yet.

She struggled to rise, her legs shivering in exertion as if she was resisting the weight of the world pressed squarely upon her shoulders.

For any other being, such an intense overload would have shattered every cell in their brain, leaving them writhing in agony.

But she was the Control Devil.

While her control over others was great, her control over herself was greater still. And most of all, she refused to entertain weakness. Part of it was vanity, but her nature recoiled at the prospect of being seen as a lesser.

Makima gritted her teeth as she fought to regain her composure. The sounds of the world around her were like a million daggers shredding through her orifices, and even the slightest bit of movement intensified the wave of agony.

But she was the Control Devil.

And she would not be controlled by something as mundane as pain.

Counting down from ten, she entered a meditative trance. She closed her eyes, held her breath, and listened only to the beat of her heart. She ignored the clatter of noise, the reek of filth, and the tumultuous chaos of her surroundings. Instead, she turned inwards and found her internal balance.

With every measured beat, Makima felt the ludicrous range of her sense wane as she regained control over her body and mind. With the sheer force of will, what once encompassed multiple cities folded in upon itself until it was only a kilometer radius.

The Control Devil opened her eyes, with a sigh of relief.

But it seemed that she had relaxed far too soon.

The first thing she noticed upon regaining her wits was that she was surrounded by people staring at her in confusion, worry, and caution. She grimaced, feelings of humiliation bursting within her heart at the thought of having seen when she was at her lowest. Makima briefly considered killing them to hide her shame from the rest of the world before she noticed how strange they appeared.

Makima was by no means unfamiliar to strange. She hunted Devils for a living, and her kind came in all matters of weird. But these people… The word "strange" was not enough to describe their utterly bizarre outfits.

One person wore what reminded her of a brown potato sack as a robe and held a wooden stick in his hand like some Tolkien wizard. Another flew in the air, defying gravity while wearing a white dress with what looked like a tiara on her head as if she were a storybook princess. Others were wearing capes and… was that man wearing a spandex?!

If not for the fact that layers and layers of forcefields surrounded her, she would have thought she was at a costume party.

The second thing she noticed was far more devastating, and not just to her vanity. Her contracts were gone—every last one of them. Nothing remained, whether from those she had enslaved or the contracts she had formed with humans. And that, more than anything, shook her to the core. The loss of her contract with the Prime Minister was especially tough to swallow. That single contract had nullified all damage inflicted upon her and was critical to her invincibility. It was the reason why entire nations had given up on facing her. Without it, she could be killed even by ordinary humans.

As Makima contemplated the severity of her situation, she felt a gloved hand grasp her shoulder from the rear. She turned, nearly lashing out in surprise before restraining herself at the last second.

"Are you okay?" Asked a man wearing a white and blue bodysuit, not realizing how close he had been to death.

A domino mask hid his eyes, but Makima could read the concern in his expression. Once again, she was forced to realize just how stupid they looked. The purpose of a mask was to hide a person's identity, but how was a piece of fabric over one's eyes supposed to achieve that?

From the man's accent and the murmurs of the other costumed individuals, she could tell they were American which only added to the number of questions she had. At first, she had assumed that they were Devil Hunters. But while they smelled human, they were not contracted to any Devils, nor were they Devils themselves.

Yet, they displayed abilities well beyond what humans should be capable of.

Surrounded in an unfamiliar environment with unfamiliar people, Makima wisely chose caution.

"Tidal wave incoming!"

With a curse, the man in white and blue took to the skies with several other fliers following suit. Makima turned her head toward the sea and witnessed an enormous wave approaching from miles away. The wave swelled with every meter of distance it crossed.

"Fliers get into position, barriers get ready for impact," he commanded.

Makima could admit that despite his laughable tastes in clothing, he was charismatic enough to lead. Directly above her head, a man in a skin-tight green suit and a heavy hood floated with sickly grey energy emanating from his hands.

All around her, the costumed humans burst into action, whether evacuating the vulnerable or preparing to defend against the coming wave. In comparison, Makima laid on her knees, lost in thought as the waves grew closer and closer. By the looks of it, this was not a simple storm. A storm would have evacuations, not hundreds of super-powered defenders. More likely, these people were here to fight whatever was controlling this wave.

"Hey there pretty, I'm here to get you out of here. Hold on tight," suavely said a grinning man in red spandex as he reached out to grab Makima. Without sparing him a glance, she slapped his arms away, more as a reflex than of any ill intent. Unexpectedly, the moment the back of her hand touched his arms, bones snapped and the confident grin turned into a rigor mortis of pain.

Screaming, the man leaped back; his left arm bent while the other had been blown clean off. Makima's eyes widened in surprise. She had merely tried to brush him off in refusal, not hurt him. She could only stare as the red-suited hero flew away in retreat as blood flowed down with the rain before turning her attention to her own hands.

By all rights, she should have fled. Without her contracts, she was vulnerable. Yet, she did not run. Despite losing a great majority of her abilities and her immortality, she did not feel weak.

No… she had never felt more powerful.

She had not noticed previously due to the overload on her senses and other pressing concerns, but now with her mind cleared and her heart calm, Makima could feel the changes within her body.

It was not just her senses that had become stronger. She intuitively understood that the potency of every ability she possessed as the Control Devil had increased by several orders of magnitude. She could feel the power that thumped in her heart and the strength that burned within her veins.

This world… It was not her own… She realized that now. The fear of Control in her world was minuscule compared to that of this one.

The dread that permeated the very essence of this world was like thick ambrosia to her lips. It was so intoxicating and maddingly sweet that a single taste would send her into euphoric bliss. She savored the flavor and for a moment, she wondered if this was what it was like to be drunk.

She was at her most vulnerable, yet she felt invisible.

All around her, shouts of encouragement and battle cries roared as the wave was now but a hundred meters away. But despite their bravado, they were palpating in fear.

Makima loved every second of it.

She stared in wonder at this new world. She had thought her banishment was a consequence of her defeat but no… This… This was a gift… One that she would fully embrace in this land of wonders.

The Control Devil raised her hand at the incoming tsunami.

"Bang."

Legend

He had been present during the emergence of superpowers, faced Endbringers, led teams of heroes, fought against villains, and witnessed countless varieties of esoteric powers. Legend had thought he had seen it all. But he never expected to see a massive seven-fingered hand descending from a gate-shaped portal from the skies above.

Legend and his fellow defenders, be they heroes or villains, tensed. His first instinct was to blast it before clear rationale took hold. Powers came in all shapes and forms. It was more likely that the hand was a power of an ally coming to join the battle.

However, this was an unknown parahuman, and he could not afford to have surprises in the middle of an Endbringer battle. If the parahuman turned out to be hostile, it would lead to devastating consequences.

"Do not engage, I repeat, do not engage. Form a quarantine around the unidentified parahuman. Blasters and brutes, be ready to intercept," ordered Legend. When nerves were high, it was better to have clear, concise orders that people could follow. It would help ease the tensions and prevent the more trigger-happy parahumans from inciting a needless conflict.

Almost immediately, the defenders moved to obey as barriers of all shapes and colors sprang to life, surrounding the falling hand. Blasters who could fly took to the skies while those who could not found vantage points from which they could safely fire. Brutes stood behind the forcefield, acting as a second line of defense in case hostilities broke out.

When the seven-fingered hand touched the ground, it was imprisoned by a wall of barriers and vulnerable to dozens of blasters. But to his surprise, the hand opened and from the palm dropped a red-haired woman.

Legend was caught off guard for the second time since the Endbringer alarms rang that day. Not by the oddity but by the woman's beauty. Although he was gay and was happily married to his partner, seeing her brought back questions of his sexuality that he had thought were answered. She seemed to be of mixed blood based on her red hair and slightly Asian features.

But what was most troubling was her attire. Cauldron had started the trend of parahumans wearing costumes to create a fictional fantasy straight from comic books. The story of good vs. evil helped civilians ignore that there were individuals who could bend a person in half at a whim while reassuring them that they had protectors against villains. It was done to prevent the non-powered normals from massacring parahumans that were needed to combat Scion.

But costumes also served a secondary purpose. To hide the identity of the parahuman. Yet, the woman who looked like she descended from the Heavens both literally and metaphorically wore a business suit complete with a tie without even attempting to mask her face. It signified multiple implications, none of which were good.

As soon as the hand dropped the woman, it left, returning to the gate portal above.

"A mover power of some kind?" Mumbled Legend to himself as he relaxed. It was undoubtedly one of the strangest powers he had seen.

Suddenly, the woman dropped to her knees, hands clutching her head as she doubled down in pain. Alarmed, Legend prepared to move in to assist until a firm hand grasped his arm.

"Don't," warned Alexandria. "We don't know who this woman is and what powers she has."

Legend frowned. "She needs help," he pointed out.

"Parahumans in distress tend to lash out. We can't risk losing you at this juncture."

He glared at his friend and colleague for several moments as the desire to do the right thing warred with logic. Legend knew she was right, but it irked him to be so coldly rational regarding lives. In the end, he cursed but acquiesced.

When Alexandria saw that her message had gotten through, she released him. Legend turned back to the woman; fortunately, she seemed to have recovered from whatever was ailing her. Without glancing at the brute, he shot down to the ground, reaching the red-haired woman's position in less than a second. This time, Alexandria did not attempt to stop him.

"Are you okay?" He asked, gently placing a hand over her shoulder.

The woman turned as if struck, facing him with wide eyes before calming down so quickly that he thought he imagined it.

Instead of responding, the woman studied him closely, glancing at his costume and the surroundings. He was used to being at the center of stares as one of the world's most famous heroes, but her gaze was not one of awe but curiosity. Almost as if she did not recognize him. That alone rang alarm bells in his mind.

Her eyes passed to Myrrdin, then at the young girl from New Wave, to Eidolon, and all the other parahumans on the scene. Her face was emotionless, and her eyes unreadable, but her body language was unmistakable. From how she was taking in her surroundings as she stared at the city and its defenders, it was clear that she had not meant to be here and instead, had been transported against her will.

If that were the case, she should be evacuated with the civilians. Whether she had powers or not didn't matter. He had no intention of throwing a civilian into an Endbringer fight. Without the will to battle, she would only be another casualty. It was not just his empathy that was speaking. Someone whose courage broke during combat was worse than useless. They were a liability. Nobody should be here without preparation in both body and mind.

"This is Legend, we have a potential civilian on the premises, have a mover escort her to safety," Legend ordered through the console. But a commotion stole his attention before he could see his order completed.

"Tidal Wave incoming!" Shouted a protectorate hero from Chicago.

Legend whirled around and saw the beginnings of a growing tsunami in the distance. There was no sign of Leviathan but knowing that scaly bastard, it would not be far from the wave.

He shot to the skies.

"Fliers with me! Barriers form a wall!" Legend ordered as he silently wished the red-haired woman good fortune and hoped that one of the heroes would get her out of this soon-to-be battle zone. He was not too worried, however. People were more likely to help a woman if she was beautiful, which sadly applied to heroes as well. With her looks, he wouldn't be surprised if they lined up for a chance to fly her to safety, even during a crisis.

By the time a phalanx of forcefields was formed, the wave had nearly reached them and was now over a kilometer tall.

"BRACE!" He shouted as he saw Eidolon move to the front, glowing as he prepared to stop the wave in its tracks.

Even for him, a veteran of hundreds of battles, the moment before the clash was the most frightening. But the defenders held, despite being ants before the tidal wave. Every Endbringer battle was like a rendition of Goliath and David. If life were a storybook, David would emerge victorious against all odds. But life was a sad reality, and Goliath would be the winner once more.

He was not oblivious to the sweat that dripped from the brows or the trembling of the hands of those who were here, ready to protect the city. Even a blind man could see the terror and anticipation that thickened the air. He too was afraid, although he did not show it. In times like these, the image of a brave man could be far more reliable for morale than brute strength. It was why he, not Alexandria or Eidolon, ran the protectorate. Despite their fears, the defenders did not flee even though this moment could be their last. And for that courage, they had his respect regardless of their profession. After all, what was bravery if not the will to do the right thing even when afraid?

The wave was now mere seconds away. He saw his fellow parahumans grit their teeth from the corner of his eyes as they prepared for the incoming collision.

Legend silently counted down, forming an imaginary timer that ticked every second.

Five…

Four…

Three…

Two…

On-

"Bang."

With the sound of a thundering impact, something invisible and formless crashed into the incoming wave. And with the crash, the wave split. A massive empty circular hole formed in the center while the two lateral sections of the wave fell ineffectively back into the sea right in front of their very eyes. What should have been a colossal collision was reduced to an artificial wave at a waterpark.

It was as if Moses had split not the sea, but the wave.

The silence was deafening, even under the pounding of the rain.

"Eidolon? Was that you?" Asked Alexandria through the console, her voice surprisingly uncertain despite her usual confidence.

David did not reply and only stared at a distant figure among the defenders.

Legend followed his gaze and saw the red-haired woman pointing at the seas with a… finger gun? Well… He certainly wasn't going to judge whether or not it was some strange power-based mechanism or something done for theatrics. He had seen much stranger after all, thought Legend as images of a particular mouse-themed heroine flashed across his mind.

The red-haired woman's face which had been contorted in a mask of pain and suffering just minutes ago was now replaced by a smile of glee and delight.

"I think I know who it was. It's the woman who came with that giant hand," said Legend.

"What?! Dragon, give me an ID!" Ordered Alexandria

"I have searched, but she does not fit anyone in the known database," answered the tinker.

Alexandria swore. "So we have an unknown capable of stopping Leviathan's tidal waves. A new trigger?"

"Perhaps," admitted Dragon. "But I meant all the databases, including that of civilians. There were no matches with the facial recognition software anywhere in the world whether from government IDs or picture takes from social media."

"Great…" Muttered Alexandria in both concern and frustration.

Legend empathized with his fellow hero. He was well aware of the capabilities of the world's greatest Tinker. If Dragon could not find that red-haired woman, it would be because she didn't exist in the digital world. Such a large information blackout was something to be wary about.

Suddenly, the sea exploded, interrupting Legend mid-thought.

Hundreds of thousands of gallons of water erupted from the sea and sailed into the sky. The relief from the tidal wave's destruction evaporated as a literal lake descended over their heads.

Water, despite popular misconception, was heavy. Most would not consider getting hit by water to be painful, but the force generated by several hundred thousand gallons falling from that height would be enough to flatten most brutes and shatter even the strongest of forcefields. Even if some did survive the initial impact, the turbulence would drown them; if it didn't, Leviathan would finish them off.

With a single move, the battle was lost.

"Bang."

But with the utterance of a word, a colossal hole appeared in the water above, just as it did on the tidal wave. It was large enough for the defenders to cluster together and survive.

Legend sighed in relief but soon realized he had once again let down his guard too soon when the remaining lake exploded mid-air into billions of thick droplets of water that encompassed the entire battlefield.

For a moment, Legend feared that each droplet would strike with the force of a bullet. However, the following shower felt no different from the typical heavy rain. While the droplets were dense enough to obscure his vision, they would not have even killed an infant. Forcefield users formed shields above their heads like umbrellas while others weathered the downpour.

What is he planning?

None of this made sense. Endbringers, while powerful, always followed a specific pattern, albeit with a few minor deviations. Never once had Leviathan deployed a strategy remotely like what he had just witnessed. And that, more than anything, terrified Legend.

Humanity had been able to drive back Endbringers despite the difference in strength solely because they learned to exploit these patterns. It was like fighting a boss in a video game. While the enemy was far stronger and more durable than the playable character, it always followed a set pattern of attack dictated by their A.I. If Endbringers decided to break their pattern… it would accelerate the destruction of civilization. No one would show up to Endbringer battles and every time these monstrosities appeared, it would be a city lost.

"Leviathan spotted, he's heading for the woman!" Reported Dragon through the console.

Legend did not need to be told which woman she was talking about. His eyes shot to the ground, searching for a head of red hair. But the dense shower of artificial rain blinded him from the rest of the battlefield. By the time he spotted her, Leviathan was mere meters away.

Why? Thought Legend as he poured everything into his attack, even as Alexandria dove to intercept.

Leviathan only attacked after multiple waves had scattered the defenders. For it to engage personally after only a single wave was unheard of. Furthermore, it had demonstrated a terrifying new tactic and when that failed, turned the remains into a cover that hid his approach until the very last instant. It revealed a frightening amount of tactical thinking and adaptability. While the liquid fog by itself did not hurt, it masked Leviathan's position and that, not the tidal waves, was the greatest danger.

Why? Thought Legend once more.

The Endbringer could have used this new strategy to close the distance and turn most of their grounded defenders into swaths of red. Yet, it chose to ignore them, flanking around the front line and making a beeline for the woman, not even bothering to attack those in the way.

Had the woman disturbed him that much? To the point it would escalate?

To Legend's growing horror, his lasers that had made the beast flinch in the past did nothing to slow its advance. Alexandria, despite her speed, was too slow and Eidolon needed time to switch powers.

The woman was a blaster. The portal ability most likely belonged to somebody else. It was unlikely that someone with such a strong blaster power would also have such a potent mover power as well. And by that logic, it was unlikely that she would have brute ratings that would allow her to survive Leviathan's onslaught.

He could do nothing but watch the woman die.

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