Chapter 116 – The Chaos King's Gambit

Jack's laughter died down, his golden eyes locking onto the Sorcerer Supreme. The usual playful glint was gone, replaced by a sharp, analytical focus. "It's about the entity that caused the earthquake, isn't it?"

Yao gave a slow, solemn nod. "It was one of the Elder Gods that were imprisoned."

Jack's brow furrowed. "Hmmm, I thought gods couldn't just step foot on Earth without your agreement."

A weary sigh escaped Yao's lips, a sound that seemed to carry the weight of centuries. "Not for long." He looked down at his own hands, slowly closing and opening them, his expression a strange, unreadable mixture of sadness and relief. "But more importantly," he continued, his gaze returning to Jack, "the Elder God has latched itself onto a demi-god."

Jack scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. "Come on. You're the Sorcerer Supreme. You can handle one little demi-god."

"Not when I must be in two realms at once," Yao corrected. "I need to go to Yomi to confront the Elder God at its source. And I need you to handle the fragment of its power that has latched onto the demi-god here, on Earth."

Jack went still. "Woah, woah, hold up. This is so sudden." He ran a hand through his hair, his mind racing. "I had a suspicion a powerful entity was behind this, but you're telling me it's an Elder God? And the one that resides in Yomi?"

"Not resides," Yao clarified, his voice grave. "Imprisoned. It is Amatsu-Mikaboshi. The Chaos King."

For a moment, there was silence. Then, a wild, delighted cackle erupted from Jack. "KEKEKEKE! The Chaos King? I would love to usurp that title."

Yao chuckled, a faint smile touching his lips. "I know you would."

Jack's expression turned serious again. "About the demi-god he's latched onto…"

Yao sighed. "It is Ares' daughter, Alexander Aaron."

"Are you sure you meant 'daughter'?" Jack asked, an eyebrow raised.

"It's complicated," Yao admitted. "But long story short, her mother, a human, wanted to name her Phoebe. Ares, in his infinite arrogance, put a curse on the name and gave the mother a sacred demand: name her Alexander Aaron, and raise the daughter as a man should be raised."

Jack's eyes narrowed. "There's more to this story."

"Yes," Yao said. "But I'm afraid we don't have the leisure to gossip about that muscle-head right now."

Jack glanced around at the disaster zone. His clones were nearly finished with the primary rescue; in another thirty minutes, the area would be clear. He turned back to Yao, his grin returning, sharp and feral.

"Alrighty then!" Jack declared, cracking his knuckles. "The Chaos King? Please. That's like calling yourself the 'CEO of Bad Ideas.' It's a title for amateurs. When I'm done with him, they'll call him the 'Former Intern of Mildly Annoying Situations.' I'm taking his job, his title, and probably his lunch money."

Yao could only sigh as he raised a hand, his fingers tracing a complex, glowing circle in the air. A portal tore open, revealing not the golden halls of Kamar-Taj, but the dark, crumbling interior of an abandoned temple.

"Go," Yao said, his voice urgent. "I must depart for Yomi. As for your part…" He looked at Jack. "You will know when to strike."

Yao watched as Jack Hou, with the unburdened joy of a child promised ice cream, skipped happily through the swirling portal. As the gateway began to close, Yao's serene expression softened into something more complex—a mixture of regret and necessity.

"Sorry, Jack," the Sorcerer Supreme muttered to the empty air. "But you need to experience this."

He then closed the portal with a wave of his hand and opened another. The laws of the cosmos were strict. Just as the gods of other pantheons needed his permission to tread on Earth, he, the guardian of this realm, needed permission to enter theirs. To face Amatsu-Mikaboshi in the Shinto underworld, he first had to petition its ruler. He needed to find Izanagi.

Yao stepped through the new portal and arrived in Takamagahara, the High Plain of Heaven. But the serene beauty of the celestial realm was shattered by the sounds of divine combat.

In the grand central courtyard, Amaterasu, the Sun Goddess, was locked in a furious battle with her tempestuous brother, Susanoo, the God of Storms.

"You find this amusing?!" Amaterasu's voice was as sharp and hot as a solar flare. She unleashed a volley of light spears, each one a needle of pure, concentrated sunlight, aimed to pin her brother in place.

Susanoo laughed, a booming sound like thunder rolling over the ocean. He summoned a chaotic whirlwind, deflecting the light spears with ease. "Of course I find it amusing, Sister!" he roared back. "It has been centuries since a new player made the game interesting! That monkey has more spirit than all of your pristine traditions combined!"

He slammed his foot down, and a wave of churning, spectral seawater rose from the marble floor, crashing toward Amaterasu.

"He is an unpure creature! A disruption to the harmony of the world!" she cried, erecting a shield of brilliant, golden light that evaporated the wave into harmless steam. "He acts without honor, without discipline! He is a stain!"

"He's free!" Susanoo bellowed, his eyes gleaming with a wild, chaotic joy. "He is a storm unto himself! While you sit here polishing the heavens, he is down there, living! You call it a stain; I call it a masterpiece!"

Their attacks escalated, light against storm, order against chaos. Beams of searing heat met crackling bolts of lightning. Amaterasu's movements were a dance of perfect, elegant precision, each strike designed to purify and contain. Susanoo's were a brawl, a joyful explosion of raw, untamed power. They fought not to harm, but to prove a point, their eternal argument made manifest in a battle of sun and sea.

In the midst of the celestial battle, as sun-fire clashed with sea-storm, a calm, unwavering voice cut through the divine din.

"Kids. Where is your father?"

Yao stood between them, his hands tucked into the sleeves of his simple robes, utterly unfazed by the maelstrom of power raging around him. The battling siblings froze mid-strike.

Amaterasu, her form radiating pure, incandescent heat, turned her furious gaze upon him. "Who dares call me a kid?!" she snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut diamonds.

Yao simply waved a dismissive hand. Amaterasu looked down and her eyes widened slightly in recognition. "Vishanti's disciple," she said, her tone laced with regal indignation. "Mind your tongue. It seems spending your time with that chaos incarnate has made you more unruly."

From the other side, Susanoo's booming laughter erupted. "Akhakhakha! It's you!" he roared, his storm-like energy receding into a playful grin. "So, did you come here to accept my proposition?"

Yao shook his head, his expression unchanging. "No. Your so-called 'proposition' was just you wanting to bring storms to Earth to cause disaster for your own amusement."

"Come on, it would be fun!" Susanoo argued, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "You can see which of the mortals can persevere in the trial!"

"Enough, kid," Yao said, his voice flat and unimpressed. He looked from Susanoo back to Amaterasu. "Where is your father?"

"Stop calling me a kid," Amaterasu hissed through clenched teeth.

Yao's lips quirked into a faint, knowing smile. "I will," he said calmly, "until you both prove you are not."

Susanoo burst out laughing again, thoroughly enjoying his sister's frustration. He pointed with his massive sword toward a distant, serene pagoda that seemed to float on a sea of clouds. "Father is likely in the Grand Shrine, meditating on the state of the cosmos or whatever it is old men do."

Yao nodded once. "Thank you." He turned, his robes swirling around him. "Now, you two can continue your bickering."

As if Yao had never been there at all, the moment he was out of sight, Amaterasu and Susanoo immediately turned back to each other, their divine energies flaring back to life, and resumed their furious, chaotic battle.

Yao arrived at the Grand Shrine, a towering pagoda that seemed woven from moonlight and ancient cedar. He slid open a heavy paper door with a soft rustle and stepped inside. The air within was still and sacred, thick with the scent of old wood and unspoken prayers. In the center of the vast, empty room, Izanagi, the Skyfather of the Shinto Pantheon, sat idly, his gaze fixed on a single, unlit lantern.

"What do you need from me, Vishanti's disciple?" Izanagi asked, his voice calm, yet carrying the weight of a god who had seen creation and decay.

Where anyone else—god or mortal—would have kneeled or bowed, Yao simply gave a brief, respectful nod. "I need your permission to go to Yomi."

A flicker of amusement crossed Izanagi's face. "Why? Did one of my shinigami invite the wrong soul to the underworld?"

"No," Yao replied, his tone even. "It was your prisoner trying to break free."

The amusement vanished from Izanagi's face. He knew instantly who Yao meant. His divine consciousness plunged into the depths of the underworld, checking the ancient seals. In a flash, he saw him: Amatsu-Mikaboshi, the Chaos King, still bound in the darkness of Yomi.

Izanagi's short temper flared to life. "You dare to lie to me in my own sacred realm?!" he roared, his voice shaking the very foundations of the shrine.

Yao sighed, a sound of infinite patience. "Calm yourself, Izanagi. He has somehow learned to fragment his essence. A piece of him is now on Earth, latched onto a new host."

"What? Impossible!" Izanagi snarled. "There is no way he could do that in—"

"Stop with the 'impossible' nonsense," Yao cut him off, his voice suddenly as sharp and cold as the void between stars. "I have seen realities where your entire pantheon doesn't exist. So, stop."

The weight of Yao's words crushed Izanagi's divine rage into a simmering, impotent fury. He said nothing, but his hand, resting on the floor beside him, clenched so tightly that the ancient tatami mat beneath it ripped and splintered.

Yao waited a moment, letting the silence settle. Then, he calmly repeated his question.

"So, do you give me permission or not?"

…

Back on Earth, the portal snapped shut behind Jack, leaving him standing in the desolate outskirts of Japan. The air was still, and the only structure in sight was a crumbling, ancient temple, its roof sagging and its walls choked with ivy. Jack scratched his head, a slow grin spreading across his face. "Seems like a fitting temple for a Chaos King. Kekekeke."

Suddenly, a flare of palpable energy erupted from the ruins. It wasn't fire or light; it was an energy that felt hollow in a chaotic way, as if the very fabric of the universe was being nullified and combusted at the same time, ceasing to exist only to be birthed again in a violent, screaming instant. It was the pure, undiluted force of chaos.

The wave of energy hit Jack like a physical blow, sending him flying back several meters.

"Fuck," he muttered, picking himself up from the dirt. He remembered the all-consuming fire of the Phoenix, the cosmic power that had turned him to stone for six long months. This felt different. Darker. Emptier. "Yesterday the Phoenix Force, now the Chaos Force. What's next, the Goblin Force?"

A sudden, primal instinct screamed through him. The hair on his arms and the back of his neck stood on end. Without a second thought, he touched his earring, and the Ruyi Jingu Bang appeared in his hand, expanding to its true, colossal size just as he thrust it in front of him.

CLANG!

A metallic shriek, so loud it deafened the world, rang out as a blade struck his staff. A woman stood before him, her body locked in the final motion of a devastating downward slash. If he hadn't blocked it, that sword—the Kusanagi no Tsurugi, now glowing with a malevolent, shadowy light—would have undoubtedly split him in two.

He felt it instantly. This opponent, this demi-god, was far stronger than he was right now. His newly absorbed fragment was still settling, his power still a chaotic symphony without a conductor. He was outmatched.

But as he stared at the woman, at the god-killing sword, at the very real possibility of his own demise, he felt no hint of fear.

Instead, a wild, exhilarating thrill shot through him. It was a feeling he hadn't truly felt in years. It was the feeling of his past life, back when he was just a gangster in a back alley, facing down six armed men with nothing but a broken bottle and a grin. It was the thrill of a battle where everything was on the line, where death was not just a possibility, but a promise.

A low, guttural laugh began to rumble in his chest, growing into a full-blown, manic cackle that echoed through the desolate ruins.

"KEKEKEKEKEKEKE! This will be so fun!"

**A/N**

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