Yomi was a realm painted in shades of gray. The air was thin, cold, and carried the scent of dust and forgotten time. Before the great, dark chasm, Yao, the Sorcerer Supreme, and Izanagi, the Skyfather, stood, their divine presences a stark, vibrant contrast to the oppressive stillness of the underworld.
From the depths, a dry, rattling laugh echoed, a sound like cracking stars. Amatsu-Mikaboshi, the Chaos King, looked up from his prison, his form a writhing mass of black tentacles and shadow, his empty white eyes fixed on them. The ancient, glowing chains that bound him seemed to hum with a malevolent energy.
"Well, well," the chaos god hissed. "The guardian of Midgard and the broken Skyfather of Takamagahara. Have you come to visit the humble prisoner?"
Izanagi's short temper flared instantly. "Silence, abomination!" he roared, his voice shaking the dead earth. He summoned a blade of pure, solidified moonlight and hurled it into the chasm.
The blade screamed through the air, aimed to pierce the heart of the chaos god. But just as it was about to strike, Amatsu-Mikaboshi simply… laughed. The blade of moonlight dissolved into a puff of black, greasy smoke.
Then, with a sound like shattering glass, the glowing chains that bound him exploded into nothingness.
"Prisoner?" Amatsu-Mikaboshi said, stepping from the chasm onto the gray plains, his form coalescing into a more solid, terrifying shape. "Oh, no. The chains were merely for ambiance." He spread his clawed hands. "I am the master of this house. You have no power here."
He wasn't trying to escape Yomi. He couldn't. The ancient curse placed upon him by the other pantheons was too strong. But he could roam freely within its borders. The illusion of his imprisonment had been a lie, a long con to make the heavens complacent.
Izanagi charged, his sword a blur of divine fury. He brought it down in a devastating arc, but Amatsu was a force of pure chaos. He didn't block; he unmade. The ground beneath Izanagi's feet turned to grasping hands of dead earth, forcing the Skyfather to leap back as shadow tendrils whipped from the ground, lashing at his ankles.
This wasn't a fight for victory. It was a stall. A diversion. And Yao, with his eons of wisdom, realized it first. He felt the subtle drain, the projection of power flowing not from Yomi, but out of it.
"He's not trying to win," Yao said, his voice grim as he erected a force field of pure, golden light to repel a wave of darkness that erupted from Amatsu's form. "He's buying time. His true gambit is on Earth."
Amatsu laughed, his form twisting with glee. "The Sorcerer Supreme is as sharp as ever! Yes, my little fragment is blooming in your precious world! And there is nothing you can do to stop it!"
Yao's calm facade finally cracked. He stopped casting simple energy bolts. His hands moved, weaving a complex spell that manipulated the very molecules of Yomi's dead air. He created a vacuum around Amatsu, a pocket of absolute nothingness designed to starve his chaotic energy.
But the Chaos King simply laughed harder, the vacuum collapsing around him as he unleashed a torrent of pure, unadulterated darkness that swallowed Yao's light. "Too late, Sorcerer! The seed is planted! My chaos will soon have a new home!"
Yao's face was a mask of cold fury. He knew what this meant. The longer this fight dragged on, the stronger Amatsu's hold on Alexander Aaron would become. He had to end this. Now.
…
Back on Earth, the battle had become a desperate, one-sided war of attrition. The clones were dying.
Amatsu-Mikaboshi, wearing Alexander Aaron's form like a divine suit of armor, was a hurricane of entropy. Every swing of the Kusanagi didn't just cut; it tore holes in the fabric of reality, unmaking the clones before they could even register the attack. Even with the arrival of the New York clones—stronger, faster, buzzing with their own unique experience living on their own—it wasn't enough. They were holding the line, but the line was crumbling. More and more of the Chaos King's essence was pouring through the fragment, empowering Alexander's body, turning her into a true vessel of oblivion.
The clone guarding Jack's limp, mind-diving body felt the shift. He saw the tide turning, the desperation in his brothers' eyes. "Any day now, boss," he muttered, glancing at the still form of his original.
Then, Jack's body gasped, a sharp, sudden intake of air like a man surfacing from a deep, dark ocean. His golden eyes snapped open.
The clone guarding him let out a sigh of relief. "About time you woke up. I think we got in over our heads fighting this one."
Jack sat up, rubbing the back of his neck. "What? So you don't want to fight him?"
The clone's face broke into a wide, manic grin. "Oh, that's where you're wrong. I'm edging to fight him right now. But what can I do? Someone decided to be Sleeping Beauty in the middle of a battle."
Jack threw his head back and laughed, the sound a wild, joyous thing that cut through the chaos. "Kekekeke! Go on, you rascal." He leaped to his feet, his own grin sharp as a blade. "I'll join you."
The real Jack Hou was back in the fight. And the rules had just changed.
He didn't charge in blindly. He saw the battlefield with new eyes, his mind buzzing with the fragmented memories of the Great Sage. He saw not just a monster, but a connection—a parasitic bond between a primordial god and a mortal soul. And he knew he couldn't just sever it. He had to chip it away, piece by agonizing piece.
"Alright, boys!" Jack's voice boomed across the battlefield, a commander taking charge of his chaotic symphony. "New plan! We're not fighting her, we're performing a divine exorcism! With punching! And lots of property damage!"
He moved, his staff a blur of gold. He didn't aim for Alexander's body, but for the swirling, black aura of chaos that surrounded her. He struck, his staff infused with his own pure, golden Qi.
CLANG!
The impact didn't draw blood. Instead, a small, screaming shard of black energy was knocked loose from her aura. It tried to fly back, to rejoin its source, but a clone was already there. He slammed his staff into the ground, and a shimmering, golden cage of light erupted around the fragment, trapping it.
"SCP containment team, on it!" the clone cheered.
Amatsu roared, feeling a piece of himself being quarantined. He swung the Kusanagi wildly, slicing through three clones, but Jack was already moving, his own clones a perfect, swarming distraction.
A team of ten clones created a massive Peach Blossom Storm, the razor-sharp petals not aimed to cut, but to obscure, to confuse, their chaotic energy disrupting Amatsu's own. While the Chaos God was blinded, another team of clones used their staffs to create an interlocking web, momentarily binding his sword arm.
In that split second, Jack struck again. Another precise, Qi-infused blow to the aura. Another screaming shard of darkness was knocked free. Another clone was there to cage it.
It was a beautiful, brutal, and utterly insane strategy. A dance of sacrifice and precision. Clones would throw themselves in the path of the Kusanagi, dying with gleeful cackles on their lips, just to buy a single second for the real Jack to land a blow. They were chipping away at a mountain with a thousand tiny, immortal chisels.
"Come on, you cosmic squid!" Jack taunted, dodging a wave of dark energy. "Is this all the chaos you've got? I've seen more chaos at a Black Friday sale! My territory's Halloween parade was more threatening than you! At least they had good candy!"
Amatsu, the King of Chaos, the embodiment of primordial oblivion, was being systematically, cheerfully, and utterly dismantled by an army of laughing monkeys. And he was furious.
…
Back in Yomi, the battle was nearing its breaking point. The gray plains were scarred with divine energy, the air thick with the stench of oblivion. Yao, his simple robes now singed at the edges, erected a crumbling shield of light to block a wave of pure chaos. Izanagi, panting heavily, parried a shadowy tendril that lashed out from Amatsu-Mikaboshi's writhing form. The Chaos King himself was flickering, his energy unstable, but his laughter echoed with a maddening confidence. They were all exhausted.
"What happened to the other pantheons?!" Yao shouted, his voice strained as he pushed back against a wave of darkness. "Are they going to seal him again or not?!"
Izanagi grunted, his blade of moonlight deflecting another attack. "Amaterasu is a good child!" he yelled back, his faith in his daughter unwavering. "She will call upon the other Skyfathers! They will answer!"
As if summoned by his very words, a brilliant gateway of golden light tore open in the gray sky of Yomi. But it was not the grand arrival of the Godheads.
Amaterasu stepped through, her expression grim, her sun-fire energy burning with frustration. Beside her, Susanoo stood ready, his storm-like aura crackling. And behind them, a figure wreathed in the quiet sorrow of the underworld… Izanami.
Izanagi froze for a split second, his gaze locking with his estranged wife's. A universe of pain and history passed between them in that silent, heavy moment.
Yao, however, had no time for domestic drama. He dodged a clawed hand made of shadow and turned to the Sun Goddess. "Where are the others?"
"They refuse to come," Amaterasu said, her voice tight with anger as she unleashed a beam of light to incinerate a charging Shinma demon. "They say the cause of this is the mortal from Earth, so it falls under your own jurisdiction."
"Those selfish warmongers," Yao muttered, erecting another force field. "What about Odin?"
"Odin is still at war," she replied. "It was in fact Queen Frigga who answered our call, but she can only offer her support, not Asgard's armies."
From his chasm, Amatsu-Mikaboshi let out a long, mocking laugh. "You and your godly, selfish desires! You bicker and posture while the world burns! You are all so predictable!"
Yao's eyes hardened. He looked at the fractured alliance before him, at the laughing chaos god, and knew they could not win this way. There is one more hope, he thought.
He turned to Izanagi. "Let me borrow your divine energy."
"For what?" Izanagi asked, confused, as he parried another blow.
"Just give it to me!" Yao commanded.
Trusting the Sorcerer Supreme, Izanagi grabbed Yao's arm, and a torrent of pure, celestial power flowed into him. Yao's body glowed, and with a roar, he thrust his hands forward, not at Amatsu, but at the very fabric of the realm. He tore a portal open—a swirling, chaotic gateway that showed not another part of Yomi, but the ruined temple on Earth, where an army of monkeys was battling his other half.
"This guy is crazy! How?!" Susanoo shouted, stunned by the sight.
Yao, now visibly exhausted from the effort, turned to the stunned Japanese gods. "You kids, follow me to Earth! Let your father and mother deal with Amatsu in Yomi!" He then turned his gaze to the estranged divine couple. "And you two," he said, his voice a firm, final command. "Hold your personal feelings. Hold him here as long as you can."
…
Jack had been systematically chipping away at Amatsu's hold, his clones a relentless, sacrificial tide against the chaos god's power. The battle was a grueling stalemate. Then, the air tore open.
A shimmering, golden portal erupted beside him, and from it stepped Yao, the Sorcerer Supreme. He was not alone. Flanking him were two figures radiating a divine energy so potent it made the air hum. One was a woman of impossible beauty, her presence as warm and commanding as the midday sun. The other was a man, wild and tempestuous, his aura crackling with the raw, untamed power of a storm.
Jack's golden eyes widened, a slow, appreciative grin spreading across his face. "Well, well," he said, not even looking at Yao. "Amaterasu and Susanoo. I can feel the sun and storm energy from both of you. You guys smell like a really dramatic weather forecast."
Yao, looking more exhausted than Jack had ever seen him, gestured to the raging battle. "Help him," he commanded the two gods.
Amaterasu looked at the chaotic scene, at the laughing, blood-soaked monkey, and her lips curled in disdain. "Help him? This unruly creature is the source of all this discord. Why should we—?"
She was cut off by a booming laugh. "Akhakhakha! A fight against the King of Chaos himself? Don't mind if I do!" Susanoo was already moving, his massive sword drawn, a wild, joyous grin on his face as he charged into the fray.
Not to be outdone by her reckless brother, Amaterasu let out an indignant huff, summoned a spear of pure sunlight, and followed him in.
With the two powerful Shinto gods taking his place, Jack finally had a moment. He walked over to Yao, his black hanbok tattered and stained, his body a canvas of cuts and bruises. He looked like he had been in a tragic accident, and for the first time, Yao saw the true physical toll a battle of this magnitude could take on him.
Jack sensed Yao's gaze and waved a dismissive hand. "Ahh, it's okay, I'm okay. This much injury is nothing compared to my master's teachings. He used to use me as a divine piñata for fun." He leaned on his staff, his grin fading. "So, back on track. What happened in Yomi?"
"We don't have much time," Yao said, his voice grim. "We have to seal Amatsu. In Alexander."
Jack's head snapped up. "What?! But I just calmed the girl down! I told her I was going to banish him out of her, break the pact!"
"You misunderstand me," Yao corrected, his expression heavy. "We will not make her a prison. We will seal the seed of Amatsu within her. A fragment of a fragment. It is the only way to contain his essence without destroying her soul."
"You want to dictate the host procedure?!" Jack argued. "But Alex is already an adult! She has her own will!"
"That is why I think she can handle it," Yao countered. "A child's soul would be consumed. An adult, a demi-god, with a will as strong as hers… she has a chance to control it. To make it her own."
"Is there no other way?"
"There is always another way," Yao admitted. "But we don't have the time or the power to seal a primordial being without a host. Not without a great sacrifice."
Jack groaned, running a hand through his bloody hair. "Fuuckkkk… Should I become the Phoenix again?" He muttered the words to himself, a desperate, last-ditch idea.
Then, something clicked. The word echoed in his mind. 'Phoenix.'
His eyes widened. 'Phoenix… that's right. Jean.'
He looked at Yao, a sudden, brilliant, and utterly insane idea blooming in his mind. His usual manic grin returned, tenfold.
"Yao," he said, his voice full of a new, unshakeable confidence. "I have never said this to you, because I genuinely thought it was implied, but… trust me."
Yao, stunned by the sudden shift in Jack's demeanor, could only stare for a moment. Then, he gave a slow, solemn nod. "Yes."
"Good." Jack whistled sharply. Zephyr swooped down from the sky, and without another word, Jack leaped onto his cloud and shot away, leaving the Sorcerer Supreme and two battling gods to deal with the chaos he left in his wake.