The playground was empty. The laughter of Power and the barking of the dogs had faded into a wet, choking sound. In the real world, Denji’s chainsaw had finally found its mark. As Aki slumped against the ruins of a convenience store, the "snow" stopped falling.
Tokyo, there was no snow. There was only the rhythmic, deafening thrum-thrum-thrum of the M1911 barrel protruding from Aki’s forehead and the belt-fed remains of his left arm. Gun Devil (Hayakawa Aki)
The "snow" in Aki's dream began to turn grey, then black. He looked down at his hands. They were covered in something thick and warm. "Denji?" he called out. The playground was empty
The world was white, silent, and perfect. Aki Hayakawa was a child again, the weight of the Public Safety uniform replaced by a heavy wool coat that smelled of home. Across the field, Denji and Power were laughing, their faces flushed red from the cold. As Aki slumped against the ruins of a