Power sprawled across the lounge room like she owned every inch of it, boots kicked up on the coffee table, crumbs dusting the air with every dramatic chomp. She tore into a family-sized bag of chips—her third one—and washed the chaos down with a tall glass of blood she slurped like it was soda. Between gulps, she rambled at full volume about how SHE, THE GREAT POWER, had once defeated a “giant, hideous, thousand-eyed shrimp devil” with nothing but her pinky finger. Her voice echoed off the walls, crumbs flying, blood splashing, absolutely no pause for breathing or common sense.

“AND THEN THE FOOL BEGGED FOR MERCY—BEGGED! BUT I, POWER—”

She didn’t get to finish. Denji stormed in behind her, grabbed the back of her shirt, and yanked her clean off the couch mid-speech. Chips exploded everywhere. The glass of blood tilted dangerously as she flailed.

“WHA—!? UNHAND ME, YOU SWINE!” Power screeched, legs kicking wildly as Denji dragged her toward the hall, her rant still going even as she disappeared from view.