First Attack

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Makima stood alone in the midst of the gruesome aftermath, surrounded by the carnage left behind by another brutal devil attack. The stench of blood and death hung heavy in the air.

Forensic teams moved around her,  her eyes surveyed the scene with a cold gaze. The bodies of some of Team A's members lay torn and broken. Yet, Makima's expression remained detached, almost disdainful.

The sound of sirens echoed in the distance, medics and police officers nearby talking amongst themselves with other Public Division Devil Hunters, she remained unaffected by the sorrow surrounding her. Her attention was solely focused on the task at hand – unraveling the reason behind the devil's attack.

As the forensic team meticulously collected evidence and began the solemn process of removing the lifeless bodies, Makima's indifference persisted. To her, they were insignificant, nameless, and disposable.

Makima had a... interesting view of humanity, although fond of them to some extent, that fondness was limited and not directed towards everyone, most of them were obedient yes, but rather pathetic.

"Miss Makima." A nameless devil hunter approached her. "The list of casualties." 

Wordlessly she took the list and waited until the man left so she could see it alone, he bowed and went back to talk to a group of policemen.

She did not really care who died and who survived, she was there mostly on Y/N's behalf, who had asked her to go while he made sure to capture the devil responsible for the attack.

Makima's gaze fixed on the list of casualties, her mind suddenly drifted into a labyrinth of thoughts. The images of Y/N, intertwined with the enigmatic Chainsaw Devil, played like a mesmerizing reel in her mind, stirring a cocktail of emotions that she struggled to contain. With each passing moment, her cheeks flushed, her heart raced, and a mixture of longing and anticipation coursed through her.

In her daydream, Y/N was there smiling at her, drawing her closer with every imagined encounter. The memory of his captivating personality ignited a fire within her, one that threatened to consume her stoic facade. She reveled in the stolen glances, the crackling tension between them, and the unspoken connection they once shared.

And then, there was the Chainsaw Devil, a force that simultaneously frightened and fascinated her. Its raw power, matched only by her own, evoked a thrill she couldn't ignore. In her mind, she imagined a dance of supremacy where either outcome would be great, a union of their forces that reshaped the very fabric of reality. The thought of controlling him sent a shiver of both excitement and trepidation down her spine.

But amidst the intoxicating daydream, she snapped back to reality. She folded the list of casualties, forcing her desires to the deep parts of her consciousness. 

With a deep breath, Makima tore herself away from the allure of her fantasies. there was much to be done, and emotions were nothing more than fleeting distractions. She cast an empty gaze upon the scene.

Her frustration was evident and a heavy sigh escaped her lips. The weight of his amnesia bore down on her, a painful reminder of the fragments of their shared past that remained locked away.

 She clenched her fists, her knuckles turning white with the intensity of her resolve. Makima vowed to destroy the Cloaked devil, the one responsible for Y/N's amnesia, for the pain it had inflicted upon him, and for robbing her of the memories they once shared.

But her anger extended beyond the individual devil. It expanded to encompass the United States government, the entity that had played a role in Y/N's forgotten past. A burning rage flickered within her, fueled by the knowledge of what they had done to him, of the manipulation and erasure that had taken place.

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