The last thing Denji remembered was walking home from school, thinking about what to make for dinner.
Nayuta had been in a weird mood that morning, rambling about some devil dream she had.
"Just don't bring home any weird pets, I have a feeling it won't end well" she had warned, before stuffing her face with breakfast.
Denji had laughed it off as he went out the door—what was the worst that could happen?
Then the world twisted. Great. Just great.
One moment, he was stepping onto the sidewalk, and the next, his vision warped, like he was being sucked into a television screen.
A gut-wrenching sensation churned his stomach, and before he could react, darkness swallowed him whole.
Denji landed with a grunt, face-first into damp dirt. "Damn.." He groaned, pushing himself up and blinking at his surroundings.
THE HUNTER'S FORREST
A thick fog clung to the ground, twisted trees looming over him like skeletal fingers. The air smelled of mildew and something rotten, like a fridge he hadn't cleaned in months.
"The hell...?" He muttered, scratching his head as his brain started to recollect itself. "Ain't Japan. Ain't home either. Damn, did I get hit by a devil or somethin'?"
He took a few steps forward, boots crunching over dead leaves. It was too quiet—no cars, no city noise, just the occasional rustling in the distance. His instincts screamed that something was wrong.
His first instinct was to try and look for help, shelter, any signs of civilization or any clue as to what brought him here or what here is.
Denji watched way too many horror movies to know that calling out was a bad idea, he didn't want to attract unwanted attention so he decided to walk in silence until he came across something that could help him.
The whole landscape was giant, bigger than what it's supposed to be. The grass was long, abnormally long, even grass that was supposed to be short was longer than usual.
30 minutes into his little reconnaissance he started to feel like he was being watched. He turned left, nothing. He turned right, once again seeing nothing but fog and the weird looking trees. "What the hell...I could've sworn I saw a patch of blue..I must be seeing things."
Then, he heard footsteps. Light ones, quick and cautious. Denji turned, spotting two small figures peeking at him from behind a fallen tree.
A kid in an old, dirty, bluish sweater on top of a white T-shirt and shorts and another in a tattered coat and a paper bag mask.
They stared at him. He stared back.
"Uh... sup?"
Neither answered. Instead, the one in the sweater—Six—nudged the other one—Mono—forward. Mono hesitated before approaching Denji, gripping something tightly in his hands. Denji got a better look at him; scrawny, probably ten or eleven, with big wary eyes beneath that mask.
"You lost too?" Denji asked, shoving his hands in his pockets in an attempt to make himself seem less intimidating. "Cuz I sure as hell don't know where I am."
Mono hesitated, then nodded. Six remained by the tree, her sharp gaze locked on Denji like she was trying to figure out whether he was friend or food.
"Cool, so uh... ya got a way outta here, or we just vibin' in this horror movie lookin' place?"
Mono glanced at Six. She sighed, then motioned for them to follow. Denji shrugged—might as well go with the only two people around.
A few minutes later
As they trekked through the eerie landscape, Denji quickly realized this place was wrong. Everything was unnaturally big—doors too tall, furniture oversized, like a world made for giants. The deeper they went, the heavier the air felt, thick with a suffocating tension. And then there were the noises—distant, wet crunches, guttural breathing from things lurking just out of sight.
Denji had seen his fair share of nightmares, but this place? This was somethin' else.
They soon reached an old, decrepit house, its walls peeling like rotting skin.
Six gestured for them to be quiet as they snuck inside.
Denji followed, crouching slightly—he was way taller than both of them, and the place wasn't exactly built for someone his size.
Inside, the stench of decay clung to the air.
Mono led them through a kitchen filled with grotesque, half-eaten meals and broken plates.
Flies buzzed around what looked like a severed hand on the counter. Denji wrinkled his nose.
"Man, this some serial killer kinda setup," he muttered.
Mono and Six ignored him, too focused on creeping through the place without making a sound.
Denji was about to ask what had them so on edge when a deep, wet inhale echoed from the next room.
Mono froze. Six tensed. Denji frowned. Then, something moved in the darkness beyond the doorway.
A hulking figure sat hunched over a table, its back rising and falling with each grotesque breath. It looked human—but not. Its skin sagged, its arms unnaturally long, fingers twitching as they gripped a knife that gleamed in the dim light.
Denji had dealt with a lot of ugly bastards before, including ones of similar size, but none of them looked human.
Mono and Six exchanged a look, then motioned for Denji to stay low and follow. They slipped around the room, sticking to the shadows, careful not to make a sound. Denji copied them, stepping lightly—until his foot landed on a loose floorboard with a sharp creak.
The figure's breath hitched.
Then, it turned its grotesque head toward them.
"...Aw, crap."
The thing let out a gurgling snarl and lunged. Six bolted. Mono grabbed Denji's wrist, yanking him forward. Denji didn't need to be told twice.
They ran, the monstrous thing crashing after them, its wheezing breath too close for comfort. They ducked under tables, vaulted over debris, but the thing was gaining. Just as it reached for them with clawed fingers—
Denji snapped.
A familiar cord dangled from his chest. Instinct took over. He grabbed it, yanked.
VVRRRRRRR!
The roar of his chainsaws filled the air. His head split open, the demonic engine of Chainsaw Man revving to life. Arms now blades, he turned, meeting the creature head-on.
The monster barely had time to react before Denji cleaved through its torso. Blood sprayed. The thing let out a gurgling shriek before collapsing in a twitching heap.
Silence.
Denji leaped back onto the ground as his chainsaw head melts away, revealing his human face.
He stood there, panting, his school uniform dripping in gore "Damn it, now I gotta wash this thing for the 100th time!"
Mono and Six gawked at him, eyes wide with something between horror and awe, they didn't know what to make of him.
Not only is he the only normal-looking human they've seen thus far, he can also turn into some type of killing machine on command.
Denji grinned, wiping blood from his face. "Guess I ain't so easy to eat, huh?"
After a tense silence, Mono tugged at Denji's sleeve, snapping him out of his post-fight adrenaline.
Six still kept her distance, but there was something new in her eyes—caution, but also recognition.
She had seen monsters before. She had been one before, or at least she thinks she was.
But Denji wasn't one of them, she didn't know for sure but something just told her that he was different.
But the time for talk was over, they had to move. The grotesque giant's death wouldn't go unnoticed, even if it was a lackey to something more dangerous.
Mono tugged at Denji's sleeve and pointed towards the door leading to the deeper part of the woods. "I don't know where you're trying to take me kid but if this is a trap I will make sure you personally pay!"
Mono shook his head furiously, trying his best to tell Denji that it wasn't a trap without actually talking.
"Alright, I'm trusting you.."
Denji followed them deeper into the woods, the landscape looked like twisting into something even more unnatural the deeper they went until they reached a ruined bridge, swaying with decay.
Mono pointed ahead, toward a distant tower looming against the sky, an eerie hum pulsing from within.
Denji sighed. "Lemme guess. We gotta go there?"
Mono then pointed towards a gloomy gray city full of dense fog and rain-clouds. "But we gotta get through that first, am I right?"
Mono nodded. Six was already ahead, balancing along the bridge's fragile planks.
Denji sighed and paused for a moment, 'Should I really go? Place seems creepy as hell and I don't know what's in there'.
He groaned a bit, finally making up his mind, then followed. He knew he was going to regret this.
THE PALE CITY
The city stretched endlessly in every direction, its towering buildings disappearing into the thick fog above. The streets were cracked, pavement broken and uneven, littered with the discarded remains that made it look like a world long abandoned. Clothing without bodies hung from telephone wires, fluttering lifelessly in the cold, dead air.
Denji, hands stuffed in his pockets, walked slightly behind Mono and Six as they moved cautiously through the city. The overwhelming silence made the hair on his neck stand on end.
"Man, this place sucks," Denji muttered, kicking a loose brick aside. "Where the hell is everybody?"
Mono and Six didn't answer. It wasn't that they were ignoring him—there was just nothing to say.
As they pushed forward, they found themselves at the entrance of a collapsed apartment building. The front door was torn off its hinges, revealing a dark interior filled with tilted walls and fallen furniture. The floors above had caved in, creating a jagged hole in the ceiling where faint, flickering light seeped through.
Mono took the lead, stepping carefully over debris and shattered glass. Six followed closely, her eyes darting around as if expecting something to move in the shadows. Denji, on the other hand, walked in like he had nothing to fear.
"Tch, bet all the good snacks in this place are stale," he muttered, glancing at an overturned fridge lying in the rubble.
As they made their way deeper, the air grew heavier, thicker. Something was off.
Then they saw it.
Hanging from the ceiling, half of a man's body dangled lifelessly.
Or rather, what was left of him.
His lower half swayed gently, his legs hanging limply in the air. His upper body was shoved into a broken television, the glass of the screen cracked and warped around his torso like it had tried to swallow him whole.
A deep buzzing noise came from the TV, static hissing softly like distant whispers. The faint glow of the broken screen flickered, casting an eerie glow on the surrounding walls.
Denji froze, his usual carefree attitude momentarily shattered as he stared at the disturbing sight.
"…What the actual fuck?" he muttered, eyebrows knitting together.
Six and Mono stared, their bodies tense.
Six took a cautious step forward, looking up at the motionless "man". The way he hung there, limp but somehow connected to the TV, made her grip her arms tightly. Mono, standing beside her, clenched his fists. Neither had seen anything like this, it was sickening.
Denji exhaled sharply through his nose. "That's some real freaky-ass shit right there."
Then, he squinted at the broken TV. Something about it made him feel uneasy.
"Yo… you think he's, uh… alive in there?" he asked, pointing at the man's twitching fingers.
Right on cue, the static on the TV flared up.
The body twitched.
Denji took an immediate step back. "Oh, hell no."
Mono instinctively grabbed Six's wrist, pulling her back slightly.
The screen flickered violently, the glow intensifying for a brief moment. Then—a deep, guttural static-filled moan gurgled out of the television.
The hanging body convulsed once, then went still. The static cut out.
Silence.
Denji let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.
"...Nope. Not doing this. Not today. We're leavin'."
He turned toward the nearest doorway, not waiting to see if the thing moved again. Six and Mono followed quickly, neither of them wanting to stay any longer than necessary.
The trio opened the door and walked into the next room, beyond that room was the way out. They traversed the room until a dull, flickering light caught Mono's attention. A TV screen stood at an odd angle on a broken stand, its glass surface marred with faint cracks. Static danced across the display, the warped image of a long, bending corridor shifting in and out of focus.
Mono froze.
A deep, sickly hum resonated in his skull, vibrating through his bones. His breathing turned shaky as he clutched his head, fingers digging into the fabric of his bag mask. The frequency of the television pulsed through his body, sending sharp, piercing waves straight into his mind.
Then, as if guided by instinct, he slowly reached out.
Denji noticed Mono's hesitation and turned. "Hey, dude—what're you doin'?"
Mono didn't answer. His left hand trembled as he stretched toward the screen, his fingertips just inches from the shifting corridor. The image on the TV warped further, the bent tunnel inside straightening the closer his hand got.
The moment he touched the screen, everything lurched.
A crushing silence filled the air.
Mono's body jerked forward, sucked into the screen as if gravity had flipped on him. His form stretched unnaturally before he fully disappeared inside the television, leaving Denji and Six standing dumbfounded in the empty street.
Denji's eyes widened. "HUH? What the hell—?!"
Six took a small step forward, staring at the static-filled screen. Her face remained unreadable, but you could tell she was surprised.
She wasn't exactly keen on showing emotions, especially to a stranger, but just this once, Denji saw a sense of worry in her eyes.
Inside the TV, Mono stumbled forward, the world around him moving in slow motion. The corridor he had seen on the screen was now all around him, stretching far into the distance. He felt weightless yet trapped, like he was walking through thick water. The door at the end of the hallway called to him.
His heart pounded as he stepped closer.
But just as he reached out for the brass handle, the air around him shuddered.
An unknown force threw him backward, the hallway collapsing in on itself like a dying signal.
Then—blackness.
With a violent snap, Mono was ejected from the TV, his body tumbling onto the cold floor. He gasped, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to process what had just happened. The television flickered once more before the screen went completely dark.
Denji stood over him, his face twisted in utter confusion. "Dude, what the hell just happened?!"
Mono didn't respond immediately. He pushed himself up on shaky arms, his breathing still ragged "My...head, it hurts.."
Six finally stepped forward, staring at the now-dead screen before quietly offering Mono her hand.
Mono hesitated before taking it with his free hand, the other still latched onto his head.
Denji scratched his head, looking between the two. "Y'know, I've seen some weird shit—but that?" He pointed at the TV. "That's gotta be top five weirdest things I've ever seen."
Six tugged Mono's sleeve, silently urging them to move on.
Denji exhaled, still trying to process it. "Alright, fine. But you better explain that later, dude. Cuz that?" He jabbed a thumb toward the TV again. "That was some ghost movie-type crap."
Mono didn't answer. He simply tightened his fists and kept walking.
Six followed closely behind.
Denji sighed. "Whatever, let's just get to that tower already."
Denji rubbed the back of his neck, then followed, the unshakable feeling growing that whatever was in that tower… it was waiting for them.
And it was watching him.