Raja, fresh from conquering the Resident Evil world and crowning Alice, Rain, Jill, and the Night Queen as Earth's overlords, portaled back to his main world, craving a week of R&R after months of zombie-slaying and world-saving.
He Blinked to Los Angeles from Chaos Den, beelining for Prudence Villa's glitzy mansion, expecting to find America's pop princess belting out tunes.
Instead, he found her sobbing on a velvet couch, mascara streaking like a tragic painting. "Pru, what's wrong?"
Raja gasped, stunned, his Demi-God Swagger dimming. "Who dared hurt the nation's heartthrob?"
Prudence, hiccupping, wailed, "Raja, I'm done with pop songs! Those singers are mean."
Raja's eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint sparking. "Name the fucker who hurt you, and I'll erase them from the planet."
Prudence sniffled, "They call me eye candy, say I've got no singing talent."
Raja chuckled, unfazed, his grin pure chaos. "They are just jealous why not train for a year, drop a pop banger, and make those haters choke on their words."
Her eyes sparkled, defiance rising. "Really?Then I will train hard and become a pop star and show those fuckers!"
Raja, smirking, forged an enchanted Mythril Bangle in his Chaos Den, its magic subtly tweaking voice and dance moves while sharpening focus, all without her knowing.
He gifted it to Prudence, passing it off as a shiny trinket.
Pinging Sylvia on his Chaos Watch, he barked, "Get Pru the best singing and dancing coaches, plus A-list songwriters. Her debut video drops on her birthday."
Sylvia's voice crackled, "Consider it done, boss!"
MAYA chimed: "Master, you're about to launch Pru into pop stardom like a glitter missile!"
Craving some fun, Raja whisked Rose and Kandy to his Japanese mountain resort on a charted plane, a serene paradise of hot springs and cherry blossoms.
For two days, he indulged them in steamy roleplay escapades—samurai and geisha one night, complete with silk robes and katana props, then sci-fi spies the next, dodging imaginary lasers in skintight suits.
The girls left giggling, blissed out, and Raja, recharged, strutted into Shadow Corp.'s HQ to meet the Queens—Jessica, Jane, Beth, and Sylvia.
"What's the vibe with Shadow Pharma's India deal?" he asked, sprawling in a leather chair like a king. Jessica, sharp as a tack, beamed, "Permission's locked in—India gave us a killer deal."
Jane nodded, "Your village development pitch—free schools and hospitals around our sites? They ate it up, signed in record time."
Beth leaned in, curious. "Raja, some middle-aged guy from Andhra Pradesh pitched a laptop presentation. Sylvia, was it Chanda or Bau something?"
Before Sylvia could respond, Raja blurted, "Chandra Babu Naidu!"
The Queens froze, jaws dropping at his spot-on pronunciation.
Jessica pounced, "Spill, you know him? Big shot or what?"
Raja chuckled, "He's Andhra Pradesh's Chief Minister, a guy who dreams big and sets wild goals. What's he after?"
Sylvia replied, "A meeting to negotiate. I booked it for today, figured your Indian roots meant you'd vibe."
Raja grinned, "He's here because he wants our company in his state. Greenlight his proposal. Build a Shadow Tech plant in Tirupati, and ask for land for a 5-star and 3-star hotel."
Jessica pressed, "How do you know him?"
Raja laughed, "My other reincarnation crossed paths with him. If other states want deals, build in pilgrimage cities." He sauntered out, leaving the Queens gobsmacked, muttering, "Reincarnation? What?!"
Raja jetted to his Malibu beach house to check on Uncle Charlie, catching him mid-phone panic, coaching an ex-fling on how to pee on a pregnancy test stick like it was rocket science.
Raja sidled up to Uncle Alan, whispering, "Charlie's freaking out about dad duty, huh?"
Alan shook his head, "Why doesn't he wrap it up if he's this scared?"
Charlie hung up, grinning—the test was negative, and his ex was tying the knot in a week. He sent congrats, relieved.
Alan, fed up, grilled him, "You keep dodging these scares—ever heard of condoms, man?"
Raja, smirking, piled on, "Uncle Charlie, get a vasectomy. You're not exactly cut out for fatherhood."
Charlie, spooked but sold, booked a slot with Dr. Andrew Sperlock. At the operating table, as the doc prepped, his phone rang—his wife was in labor.
"Reschedule!" Sperlock shouted, bolting to welcome his kid, leaving Charlie in his gown, dazed.
Raja laughed, "Uncle, looks like fate's got your number. Let's roll."
Next, Raja hit Brooklyn's 99th Precinct, meeting Amy and Rosa, where Charles moped in all-black, nursing a broken heart after Vivian ended their engagement.
Raja chuckled, "Charles, you're a work-obsessed, charming unicorn—a rare breed. Don't chase girls to impress them; find one who sees you." To lift his spirits, Raja booked a tasting menu at a swanky restaurant, suggesting Charles invite Gina, Holt's assistant, as his plus-one.
Charles perked up, a smile creeping in. Meanwhile, Jake stormed out of Holt's office, face red.
Raja caught him, "Yo, Jake, what's up?"
Jake ranted: he'd been digging into civic leader Lucas Wint, suspecting money laundering for drug dealers, but Commissioner Podolski dismissed it, citing Wint's harassment complaint. With little evidence, Holt and Podolski ordered him to drop it.
Raja laughed, "The commissioner himself warned you? Think, Jake."
Jake blinked, confused.
Raja smirked, "You've tripped over an FBI or CIA op on Wint—that's why they're slamming the brakes."
Jake's brain kicked into overdrive, connecting dots, jaw dropping. "Holy crap, you're right!"
Raja grinned, "Want Wint? Pitch to the FBI—they'll use you if they need you."
Jake marched back to Holt's office, laying it out for Podolski, who, after FBI calls, got Jake recruited for an undercover gig to take down the Ianucci Crime Family.
Jake agreed, hugging the squad goodbye.
Jake Peralta walks out of a bar bathroom heavily drunk and sits at the bar ordering drinks for everyone. One of the patrons asks him what the occasion is, and Jake reveals that he's celebrating the fact that he just got fired from the NYPD.
Raja swung by Max and Carlione's Brooklyn pastry shop, slinging croissants as a server for three days, his Demi-God Swagger charming every customer, earning flirty giggles and fat tips.
Exhausted but buzzing, he portaled to the Chaos Den in the Forbidden Forest, a mystical fortress pulsing with arcane runes and starlight.
Sprawling on a throne which made of enchanted Metal and Elder Magical wood, Raja grinned, his Chaos Watch glowing with infinite universes. "Time for a new adventure," he mused, ready to hop dimensions and stir up more chaos.
To Be Continued…