Extra: Yandere Milfs Obsessed with me!

6000 years before the Third World War, that is, in 2026.

In a small Manhattan apartment, the midday sun filtered through the poorly closed blinds, slicing the room into strips of dusty light. Outside, the city rumbled like a beast of glass and steel: yellow taxis honked in Broadway, skyscrapers swallowed the blue sky, and on the sidewalks swarmed a human anthill eager to forget it was alive. But here, in a fourteenth-floor apartment, the noise of the world seemed muffled, as if smothered.

The room was an otaku sanctuary. Figurines in dynamic poses—warriors in armor, magicians in diaphanous robes, cat-girls in swimsuits—stood in rows on Ikea shelves, some still in their boxes, others unpacked with an almost religious delicacy. A floor mat depicting a map of a fictional kingdom served as a bedside rug. Scrolls of isekai and magical girl posters covered the walls, overlapping in places. A headset lay near a gaming PC whose RGB LEDs blinked in standby. The air smelled of wasabi chips, the sugar of empty sodas, and a faint trace of forgotten laundry detergent.

On the unmade bed, a young man slept, his phone still lit in his right hand. His fingers had relaxed their grip on the touchscreen, and the bluish glow illuminated his relaxed face: Kaiser, messy black hair, dark circles under his eyes that spoke of sleepless nights spent on scans and light novels. His hoodie bore the emblem of a fictional adventurer’s guild. On the phone screen, still visible, a title in bold blood-red letters displayed:

[HEAVEN MILF]

[Chapter 47: The Goddess of the Hearth...]

Kaiser’s breath was slow, steady. A vague smile floated on his lips, as if he were dreaming of something—when suddenly a sound rang out.

Knock... knock...

The noise sounded, but Kaiser didn’t stir in the slightest, his arms still buried under the pillow, his face half-crushed against the cotton pillowcase. A second knock came, longer, more insistent, but he merely let out a low growl, a hoarse sound that conveyed all his displeasure at being torn from sleep, even light as it was. He barely turned over, his back to the door, hoping the intruder would eventually give up.

Yet before he even had time to fall back asleep, the characteristic creak of his bedroom door tore through the air. He had forgotten to lock it again—a recurring negligence he promised himself every night to correct but always forgot, too absorbed by his late-night readings.

"KAISER..."

The voice was firm without being harsh, warm with that maternal intonation that knew how to make itself heard without ever shouting. Standing in the doorway, a woman looked at him, arms crossed over her chest in a posture that boded nothing good. She had the same black hair as him, but she pulled it back into a low, practical bun, impeccably smoothed, not a single strand out of place. Her almond-shaped eyes, identical to his, seemed deeper, hollowed by years of worry and by those nights when she kept watch, from afar, over a son in chronic telecommuting who readily confused three in the morning with an acceptable nap time.

She wore an immaculate white blouse under a gray cardigan, sober jeans with neat hems, and clean sneakers that must never touch the floor of her kitchen without being wiped first. Everything about her breathed the efficiency of a New York mother who had long since given up on the frills of elegance to devote herself to practicality and vigilance. Her fingers, bare of any jewelry—she had put away her wedding rings after her husband left—tapped softly against her elbow, a nervous tic he knew by heart. Her face, though marked by a few fine lines at the corners of her eyes and slight dryness due to harsh winters, still retained that striking beauty.

At her feet sat a thick fabric shopping bag, overflowing with sachets and cardboard boxes. She had no doubt come to check that her son hadn’t ended up in shreds between two Chapters of a webnovel, his cupboard empty and his stomach curled up on itself.

Kaiser jerked so violently that his phone, precariously balanced on his chest, slipped from his fingers. It traced a short arc before landing squarely on his nose with a dull, dry thud.

"Ouch!" he exclaimed, sitting up abruptly, his hand pressed to his nasal appendage which he rubbed with quick, annoyed gestures. His eyes still hazy from the sleep stolen from him, he blinked several times, struggled to make out the silhouette in the doorway, then, slowly, his features relaxed. A tired, slightly embarrassed, but sincere smile formed on his lips.

It was the smile he reserved for his mother—that of the twenty-three-year-old kid who knows he’s being watched, loved, and a little too caught red-handed dreaming of divinity when he should have answered the phone or, at the very least, locked his door.

"Mom... you could have knocked," he grumbled, lowering his eyes, a pinkish tinge rising to his cheeks.

His mother raised an eyebrow, a tiny gesture loaded with a whole history of open doors and forgotten keys. She didn’t respond immediately, preferring to scan the surrounding mess with her gaze. Of course, for someone like Kaiser who spent his free time reading, he didn’t really have time to tidy everything up.

"I did, Kaiser. Three times. And then I called. Four times. You don’t answer knocks, you don’t answer your phone—how do you expect me not to worry?"

Her voice had softened, but the annoyance still seeped through the layer of tenderness.

He sighed, rubbed his nose once more, and glanced at his home screen. Eight missed calls. Three voicemails. He must have turned off the ringer after finishing a particularly intense Chapter and simply forgotten to turn it back on.

"Sorry, Mom. I was... absorbed." Kaiser apologized.

Kaiser looked at his room and the mess he’d made. Knowing his mother, if he didn’t tidy his room, she’d scold him for an eternity without ever stopping.

********

While Kaiser was hurled into the past by Konstantin, the old man remained alone on the battlefield, facing his own disciples who had turned their blades against him. There was neither anger nor hesitation in his gaze, but a quiet sadness, that of a man who watched his children march toward the abyss, powerless to stop them. The fight then erupted in a muted violence, a clash of mana bursts and torn flesh. Hours passed like minutes, punctuated by short breaths and dull thuds. Finally, Konstantin collapsed, his body riddled with wounds, but he did not die before accomplishing what he had fought for. In a final surge of will, he managed to extract a fragment of essence from his own being, then another from Sulyvhan’s, which he captured in a makeshift seal.

He entrusted these luminous fragments to Lucifer with a trembling hand, his blood already soaking the stone. This gesture was no accident: it was the culmination of a plan long pondered between them. Konstantin had always known the battle would be lost, but he also understood that defeat could give birth to a delayed victory. The idea was audacious, almost insane: to blend three essences—his own, Sulyvhan’s, and Aeshma’s—to draw from them a new energy, denser, more raw, capable of transcending the known limits of magic. This new force was not intended for them, but for Kaiser, the only possible heir to this extraordinary legacy.

Aeshma and Sulyvhan, consulted before the confrontation, had accepted this sacrifice without a second’s hesitation. All three consented to relinquish what remained of their power, down to the last spark, to create a breach in the established order of things.

In the heavy silence of the empty room, he gazed at the remnants of light that still danced above his palms, like embers from a dying fire. "They gave everything," he said softly, his own voice sounding foreign in this atmosphere of ash and memory. "Now it’s my turn to pass on this power. Kaiser must receive it intact, unaltered, unlost." He closed his fingers around the fragments, feeling their warmth vibrate against his skin like a second heart. The plan, despite the losses, remained on track. Kaiser, immersed in the past, would discover the future through the pages of the web novel, and he would know which events to influence so that the present would tip toward a more merciful outcome. Meanwhile, Lucifer would jealously guard the fruit of the triple sacrifice, ready to hand it over to him at the precise moment the timelines converged. Then, and only then, could the power born from the three essences manifest and fulfill its purpose.

In this way, time collapsed astonishingly quickly. Yet, despite this brutal acceleration, much had happened in the interim, and the meticulously planned initial strategy was unfolding without a hitch. Kaiser, who had been sent back in time thanks to Konstantin’s intervention, now led an ordinary life, much like that of any other individual. He let himself be carried along by the natural course of events, convinced that time would eventually accomplish what it had been destined to do.