ᵣₐbbᵢₜ ᵢₙ ₜₕₑ Bₗₐcₖ Cₕₐₘbₑᵣ

Cₕₐₚₜₑᵣ ₃: ₜₕₒᵤgₕ ₜₕᵢₛ bₑ ₘₐdₙₑₛₛ, yₑₜ ₜₕₑᵣₑ ᵢₛ ₘₑₜₕₒd ᵢₙ'ₜ.

        Dazai stepped out of the cell, his mind weighed down by the gravity of what had just transpired. Kororo was far from ordinary—she was an enigma, a manifestation of chaos itself, a being whose potential was both terrifying and boundless. How to contain such an entity was the question that gnawed at him, but no easy answer presented itself.

The Agency had no protocols for something like this. Kororo wasn't just an individual with extraordinary abilities; she was a singularity, an aberration that defied any classification. Dazai knew that conventional methods would be futile—he would have to devise something new, something that could match the darkness within her.

The first step was containment. But how does one imprison a force of nature? Kororo wasn't a mere prisoner to be shackled; she was a reality-bending storm, capable of rewriting the world around her. The concept of a containment facility for someone of her caliber was almost laughable, but it was necessary.

The Armed Detective Agency's resources were formidable, yet insufficient for a being like Kororo. Dazai turned to the government, specifically Ango, the only person who might have access to the kind of resources needed for such an undertaking.

As expected, Ango had a solution—one that reeked of desperation and fear. A covert facility, buried deep beneath the earth, originally constructed to withstand nuclear fallout, now repurposed as a containment unit. It was a place forgotten by time, isolated and fortified, but would it be enough?

Transporting Kororo presented another challenge. She couldn't be moved as a typical prisoner; she required a prison that was mobile, yet impenetrable. The Agency's engineers, under Dazai's guidance, constructed a transport—a heavily armored fortress on wheels, equipped with the latest in metaphysical containment technology. It was a cage for a god.

When the day of the transfer arrived, a strange unease settled over Dazai. He approached her cell, the air thick with tension. He was about to engage in a dance with a force that defied comprehension, and the stakes were impossibly high.

Kororo awaited them, her lips curled into a smirk that held no warmth, only the promise of destruction. "So, you're taking me away," she mused, her voice dripping with dark amusement. "How quaint."

Dazai ignored her taunt, his expression unreadable. "It's for your safety, Kororo," he replied, his voice cold, but firm.

Her laughter echoed through the cell, sharp and sinister. "Safety? From what? Myself?"

Dazai said nothing, signaling the guards to restrain her. As they moved in, Kororo raised a hand, and the air itself seemed to freeze. The guards were statues now, their bodies locked in place by her will.

Dazai's mind raced, the tension in the air crackling like a live wire. This was not a situation that could be resolved through force or strategy alone—this was a battle of wills, a confrontation between his resolve and her chaotic nature.

He stepped forward, his every movement deliberate, as if each step held the weight of destiny. His eyes locked onto Kororo's, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of them. He raised his hand, a silent command that seemed to ripple through the very fabric of reality.

A single word, ancient and potent, fell from his lips: "Bind."

Reality twisted, the cell walls warping and contorting as they closed in around Kororo. The air thickened with a suffocating energy, forming a cocoon that tightened with every passing second. Kororo thrashed, her screams tearing through the air like a storm, but the cocoon held firm—a testament to Dazai's unyielding will.

When the storm subsided, the cocoon solidified into a crystalline prison, encasing Kororo within. But even trapped, her eyes burned with a fury that sent a chill down Dazai's spine. She knew of the Special Division's tools, instruments designed to capture ability users, and this was one of them. Yet, even in defeat, there was no fear in her gaze—only a dark, simmering promise.