Hmm

Saburo held the Pen in an oddly numb grip, staring at the simple black lines on the paper, a flat, limp sheet of white that was more ominous than all the surrounding darkness. He frowned tightly, and shot a glance of electric blue venom at the demon, but the striking poison drained from his vision as he turned to Kururu and Pirarah. They waited, both taking up very different postures in preparation to attack, their forms held ready by the demon. It seemed that the creature had decided that it wouldn't try for its own revenge anymore, it was merely manipulating them with varying degrees of literalness to achieve its end.

It shouldn't have been a problem, however, it really should not have been. He may not have had a useful weapon, but he had the ability to prepare one, a nonlethal weapon that would disable Kururu and Pirarah and allow him to focus on the one who was actually a threat. It would be the best thing for all of them, he was sure, and yet it turned out that the demon had not left him as free as he had thought until now. The realization constricted him on multiple levels, though he knew that the only choice he had short of giving up was to keep going regardless. It was somewhat troubling that he couldn't come up with a solution more expansive than to “keep going;” a more specific direction to go would be nice. However, he failed at finding one for the time being.

The demon itself was too clever to simply allow him the time for thinking, though. It smiled triumphantly, aware of Saburo's current weakness and all of its implications for the boy, and charged him silently. He attempted a neat sidestep, and was tripped when a block of darkness rose next to him. It was actually hard not to laugh then, as bitter as it would have been; the thing had turned his mind into almost literal clay for it to model as it wished, but he couldn't say he appreciated the artistic inclinations of such an artless creature.

“Well, isn't this a little... unfair...?” He swallowed. This situation wasn't one where concepts of fair and unfair really had any meaning, and they both knew that. It was more a matter of capability, and Saburo's was soon limited by chains forming out of the darkness to hold him. His recollections of the last time the creature had invaded him were still clear, and he struggled with an ineffective intensity that betrayed his fear more than anything else. He didn't want to be trapped. He didn't want to recall the semiconscious helplessness that he bound him as much as the chains at that point. He didn't want to be this dangerously close to that state again.

“Of course it is, but if you're concerned about that, then this is already done,” it sighed, looming over the fallen boy in the most literal sense possible as its presence seemed to be actively seeking control over him. It kicked the hand holding the Reality Pen, knocking the device away and nearly breaking Saburo's fingers. When it bent with an eerily fluid motion to claim the pen, he strained, a grimace forming as a product of the effort, but muscle remained no match for metal. “Certainly, you've already lost a hold on something that should be yours...”

It whipped around, and threw the Pen at Pirarah, who could not recoil because of the demon's hold on his form, despite the reflex triggered by something coming towards him.

“Why don't we test this out?”

The young Keronian bent involuntarily, taking the Reality Pen in his own hand, and started a forced walk towards Saburo, and another goal that he did not know the certain nature of, just that it would be harmful.