Day 601.
Raven stood amidst the ashes.
His hand still clutched the remnants of his lover who had vanished.
The air was heavy. But not from the heat.
It was the suffocating presence of slaughter—emanating from his very soul.
And that laughter...
That mocking laugh.
A laugh that cut deeper than any wound.
Scary Clown.
Leaving trails of blood as he waved slowly.
As if all of this was nothing more than a cheap circus act.
One step from Raven—and he vanished.
Speed: beyond light.
Space-time folded behind him, and dimensional corridors began to crack under the pressure of his existence.
In 0.0000001 seconds, he reached the Clown.
His fist connected.
But the Clown… dodged.
With a smile.
With effortless movement.
As if his body defied the very laws of motion.
Raven struck again.
Ten punches. Twenty. A hundred.
Each blow shattered the fabric of space.
Yet the Clown remained, laughing at it all.
"Wow!" he exclaimed. "You're really angry, huh?"
Raven roared.
His foot slammed into the ground, triggering a dimensional explosion that hurled the Clown back into Level 130—an empty space with no existential walls.
Raven appeared behind him, delivering a fierce kick.
The Clown was launched, his body folding in half.
Dark crimson blood sprayed across the void.
But the Clown only laughed.
Laughed with shattered teeth.
"You're strong, Raven!" he said. "But you haven't... danced yet."
Suddenly… the Clown stopped moving.
The air fell silent.
And his eyes... changed.
Not in color. But in depth.
The laughter stopped.
Replaced by a low voice that seeped from the deepest layers of existence.
"Angry Mode: Activated."
His body erupted.
The costume burned away.
Bones etched with symbols, radiating black and violet light.
His hands multiplied to four.
His mouth split into three.
And his heart pulsed in every direction.
"A002N Class Normal – Illusion.
Revised Class Anomaly Impossible. Circle 27."
Raven hesitated for a moment.
"...What?"
The Clown bowed.
Then appeared behind him—without moving.
One kick, and Raven was sent crashing through three dimensional layers.
Raven stood up, blood dripping from his face.
He hadn't… felt this since the day he died.
"How could this… power… stay hidden all this time...?"
The Clown laughed again. But this time… deeper.
"Because I know, Raven.
You need a hero to hate.
And I… am too perfect for that role."
The battle began.
Raven activated Circle 13.
His vortex transformed into an energy dragon, devouring all existence in its path.
The Clown countered with Circle 27.
Every movement he made birthed new concepts of suffering.
Raven pummeled the Clown with a storm of energy.
The Clown twisted it into a rain of knives, slicing Raven's own body.
Raven shattered space.
The Clown inverted it into a cage.
Raven tried to rewind time.
The Clown laughed—both in the past and the future simultaneously.
Every wound Raven endured… healed.
But the pain multiplied a thousandfold.
The Clown didn't just hurt the body.
He danced within consciousness itself.
"This isn't a duel, Raven.
This is… revenge from the script you rejected.
You wanted to be a hero?
But you never wrote a happy ending."
Finally, Raven fell.
His knees hit the ground.
His hands bled.
His vortex trembled, nearly shattering.
And the Clown sat before him.
Staring straight.
No laughter. No mockery.
"So… how does it feel, Raven?" he asked quietly.
"How does it feel to be powerful… and still save no one?"
Raven bit his lip.
His body trembled.
His eyes stared at the ground.
And slowly, he answered:
"It feels… like living… just to regret."
The Clown laughed.
Not mad. Not cruel.
But like a cry reversed.
"Welcome to our realm, Raven.
You are not a hero.
You… are us."
The sky above them began to crack.
Reality itself rejected this battle.
But it wasn't over.
Because Raven… wasn't finished.
And within his heart, engulfed in ashes, a single ember sparked.