**Volume 2: Upper World**

  **Chapter 23: Long Time No See, Ray Milner**

  The rain didn’t stop. It hammered the ruined Yokohama courtyard like it was trying to wash the blood away, but all it did was turn the concrete into a slick, red-black slurry. Bodies everywhere—five hundred thousand was no exaggeration anymore. Clan fighters from every corner of the planet lay twisted in piles: Diego Morales with his crimson lassos still wrapped around three Yakima corpses, Avery Washington’s ash cloud hanging low and choking the air, Lena Volkov’s ice clones shattered into glittering dust, Isabella Reyes drowned in her own weeping echoes. Demons and devils kept pouring from the widening rift overhead, but even they seemed to hesitate now—red eyes flicking between the two figures in the center.

  Sky’s body stood tall again.

  Not Sky.

  Jane.

  He rolled his neck once—slow crack of vertebrae—then straightened Sky’s torn black hoodie like it was a suit jacket. Rain slid down his face, mixing with the drying blood from the glass shard cuts. His left eye was full red now, glowing soft like a dying ember. The black corruption ring had spread, spiderwebbing across his cheekbone and temple. He flexed his fingers—Sky’s fingers—and smiled. Wide. Wrong. Teeth too sharp in the dim light.

  Ray stood ten feet away, regenerated arm flexing once to test it. The black coat was soaked through, white hair plastered to his forehead, but he looked calm. Almost bored. Purple eyes locked on Jane’s red ones. The rift above them pulsed—slow heartbeat of the Upper World bleeding through.

  Jane took one step forward.

  Long exhale through Sky’s nose.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Then he spoke—voice low at first, then louder, rolling across the battlefield like thunder that didn’t need to shout.

  “Long time no see, Ray Milner.”

  Ray’s head tilted—just a fraction.

  Jane laughed—short, sharp, echoing inside Sky’s chest and outside at the same time.

  “You really thought you could choke the kid out and I’d just sit there?” He cracked his knuckles, one by one. “Ten seconds. You had ten seconds to get your fucking arm off him. You didn’t listen.”

  Ray didn’t blink.

  “You’re still in there, boy,” he said quietly—to Sky, not Jane. “I can feel it. Fighting.”

  Jane’s grin widened. “He’s busy crying about his dead friends. Let him rest.”

  Ray’s coat flared as rift energy rippled around him—pink-blue cracks forming in the air like broken glass.

  “You’re not the only ancient thing here,” he said.

  Jane stepped closer—boots splashing through blood and rain.

  “I’m the only one who remembers what you did two hundred million years ago.” His voice dropped, intimate, almost fond. “You were there when the tree was planted. You helped water it with blood. And now you’re pretending you’re the gardener trying to prune the weeds?”

  Ray’s eyes narrowed.

  Jane kept talking—slow, savoring every word.

  “You made me, Ray. Or at least you helped. Great-grandfather’s little science project. A seed from the cosmic tree, shipped through rifts, planted in human bloodlines. And here we are—family reunion.”

  Ray’s hand flexed. Rift energy gathered—pink-blue swirls coiling around his fist like living smoke.

  “You talk too much,” he said.

  Jane laughed again—genuine this time, head thrown back.

  “That’s the difference between us, nephew.” He spat the word like it tasted good. “I enjoy the sound of my own voice. You just enjoy being bored.”

  Then Jane moved.

  Not fast.

  Not slow.

  Just inevitable.

  He crossed the distance in one step—spatial fold so clean it looked like teleportation. Fist came up—blue-red energy snapping around it, Echo Fist already stacking.

  Ray met it.

  Palm to fist—impact like two planets colliding.

  The shockwave flattened everything in a fifty-meter radius—rain blown sideways, bodies flung like leaves, concrete cratering outward in a perfect circle. Demons screamed as they were shredded mid-air. Clan fighters—those still alive—were thrown back against walls or into the mud.

  Jane staggered one step—first time he’d been pushed back.

  Ray didn’t move.

  His coat settled around him like nothing happened.

  Jane looked at his fist—knuckles split, black-red blood dripping.

  Then he grinned wider.

  “Nice one, old man.”

  Ray cracked his neck.

  “Likewise.”

  The courtyard went still.

  Rain kept falling.

  The rift above pulsed faster—pink-blue light strobing like a dying star.

  Two legends—Ray Milner, the bored ancient rift god, and Jane, the laughing Demon Heart core—stood face-to-face.

  Neither blinked.

  Neither spoke.

  They just stared.

  The chapter ended.

  To be continued…