Makishima isn’t prevented from taking the Faustian bargain out of a sense of right and wrong, but due to his overweening pride. TPTB wanted him to sacrifice the peasants and join them, he wanted to sacrifice both TPTB and the peasants to his own dream. So the Faustian bargain is struck with the devil within, rather than the external devil. And since the devil within isn’t the ruler of the world, it doesn’t bestow power.
So in this version of the Faustian bargain, he tried to sell his soul to himself (i.e. have his cake and eat it), which doesn’t work. I see a strong parallel in Vox Day’s behelit, where he jumped on the Alt-Right train and then the Q train, and maintained that his righteousness was due to his refusal to sell his soul to the newspaper editors back in the day. He refused the external devil because the devil inside wouldn’t have it. But then Charlottesville came around and put the lie to his too-cool-for-school intellectualism, and to rescue his sense of self-righteousness he sold out the Alt-Right to feed his internal demons.
Let’s call this strategy a “behelit fizzle”. Ken helpfully shortened this to “a befizzle, if you will”. Example usage: “Don’t befizzle my nizzle.”
I propose that this myth is the mechanism that’s been weaponized to create Q, which plays out this narrative on an industrial scale, analogous to the scapegoating machine. The egotism of first-class spectators is exploited until the subject has invested their entire sense of self-worth in Q, and then when sacrifices must be made the investment bias takes over. Because it’s a competitive online alternate reality game, where the competition is to explain reality within the alternate reality, the sacrifice is the ability to notice other kinds of patterns. More concretely, imagine Marvel Studios held a fanfic competition where you have to start with a real newspaper story and then write a superhero story explaining it, and the prize is that elements of the best stories get shout-outs in the movies, where the Marvel Cinematic Universe is the Official Q Narrative. Imagine the sort of people that would create over time as fanfic writing techniques improved and competition got more intense.
(In fact, as I write that I realize that we’d see the invention of the Marvel University for Screenplay Writing. But no one has tried selling seminars and courses on Q decoding, reality interpretation, and how to write up your findings in a Very Official Report, or VOR. There’s a market there, if anybody’s looking for a grift.)
The ego investment in the competitive aspect is likely why it’s so addictive, similar to how no one is addicted to offline single-player video games but lots of people are addicted to video games with subcultures around them. If people felt they had strong connections with their family and friends the way they feel they have a strong community in Q, then cutting their losses would appear less daunting.