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The royal palace halls are filled with the noise of workers and guards. The guards talk in between shifts. The servants' ever-constant sounds of footsteps echo through the halls. The Royal Family partake in the stories every once in a while, though the halls are only lively through the cheerful servants. They chatter and gossip amongst themselves, content in their simple lives.
And yet, not a single sound is heard tonight. The halls are empty and devoid of sound. Merely overwhelming corridors with too-wide frames. It is silent tonight in the calm waves of the kingdom.
No one noticed him enter.
He stalks through the quiet halls, lingering in shadows. He carries with him a bundle. Its contents are obscured by the too-large cloak that hangs over his frame. The small figure walks through the corridors, eyes surveying every inch of the area.
He keeps this charade of paranoia and fear up until he reaches a large door. Something far too large and grandiose for someone who’s as small as him, but it will do. His knuckles hesitantly hover against the brass handle of the door.
The figure shakes a bit, bringing his fist closer to his heart. He stays like that, more akin to a statue than a breathing mortal with how he stops moving. It seems as though it was forever before he finally moved. His bare hands clench the handle tightly between his fingers, before, finally, opening the door.
As expected, the dragon waits for the monkey.
“Wukong.” His voice floats through the room. Despite the rasp and wheeze, it sounds angelic and holy in its tone. It almost makes him cry. Almost.
No, crying is something he can’t do. Not right now.
“Ao Lie,” he swallows the lump in his throat, trying to appear
fine
, “How are you? I brought fruit!” Wukong unveils the small basket, showing an assortment of peaches, apples and mangoes. He sets the fruit basket on the end table, sitting on the chair just in front of it.
The light filters in just perfectly, casting a heavenly glow on Ao Lie. His hands hold the blanket just a bit tighter. “I’m fine.. Wukong, my eyes are up here.” The dragon teases, a smile making its way on his face. He laughs a bit, deluding himself into thinking that there was a different reason he was looking at his chest. “Ah, you know me! I can’t help but appreciate fine art.” Wukong wiggles his eyebrows, accentuating his point.
He tries to stifle a laugh, but it's no use. Ao Lie instead chuckles into his blanket, before reaching for one of his pillows and throwing it at him.
“You are absurd!”
“Wha- hey!” Though the monkey would have loved to get back at her, he was currently in a medical bed. He was not taking any chances, especially after what happened last time.
Just like that, his mood deflates. His eyes linger just past her blanket. He couldn’t ignore the stench of ozone in the room.
It seems that Ao Lie noticed this too, since he went ahead and changed the conversation.
“I would love to hear about your travels, preferably before my Uncle catches you here.”
He scoffs, quickly playing into his more popular persona. “As if your Uncle can do anything to me! The Great Sage Equal to Heaven!” He stands on his chair in a vague mimicry of some heroic form. Just as he was about to step down, he missteps and is sent careening into the dusty, marble floor. Do the servants even clean this room?
He is interrupted by soft giggles, and he immediately stands up straight. “Ahh yes, I meant to do that.” Wukong dusts himself off and returns to the seat, this time actually sitting in it.
“You see I have been to this amazing-”
And just like that, he loses himself to the story, detailing every miniscule detail and stray thought. His tail wags behind him, showing his joy and emphasizing certain events in the story. A mysterious artifact, hidden in the depths of an underground temple. Filled with traps and other trinkets. He talks of a room filled with gold that turned out to be “Bugs! Bugs I tell you! I could not eat another centipede after that!”. He regales him with the tale of a hidden garden in that temple. Tucked away in the innermost depths, “Guess what? It was filled with bugs!” In fact, he later found out it was a temple for a minor deity presiding over bugs, which he felt should have been obvious at the start but he digresses.
“And finally, I find the artifact! It was a pretty, shiny.. Ring.” And it was. It was beautiful, pure gold and light. It shined in the dark and lit up the room, but other than that it was nothing.
It was just a ring.
So why was he so scared?
And yet it hurt for a reason he could not name. He sees the ring in his home, and he chucks it at the far wall. He dissolves into a mess of sobs then. Crying and wailing, though he could not say what he yelled. Wukong could not name the thoughts and emotions that coursed through him. Of the desperate clutches of why, why, why, tightening their hold on his neck. It leaves bruises and renders him unable to speak. It cuts through him like knives, or the claws of a friend he once held dear.
All this because of a stupid ring.
“Wukong? Is something wrong?” He hears Ao Lie speak. Gentle it was, as if he were talking to some feral, wayward animal.
“Nothing’s wrong. There isn’t anything wrong.” He says, far too snappy for his liking. But there is nothing to do. Wukong could feel his hands shake, and he decides it is done for tonight.
He stands up, feet falling on marble floors. “I think.. We are done for today. Goodbye.”
“Wukong, Wait!” Ao Lie shouts, desperation lacing the words. He shuffles in the bed, until he sits over the edge. “Wukong, please.. We need to talk about this.”
“There is nothing to talk about.”
“There is! I know it's hurting you. Please, just.. Just listen.” Wukong pauses just before the doorway. His hand stays firmly where he latches onto the handle of the door. He takes a deep breath and sighs. “I'm not hurt. I can't get hurt, you know that.” He lowers his head, resting it on the wooden door.
“And you know fully well that is not what I mean.”
The silence rings loudly in the room. Nothing else is heard save for their own echoing thoughts.
Why would he care so much? Wukong’s not the one who has been hurt. He's not the one in the medical bed. He's not the one dying because of his so-called friend's carelessness.
“Please.. It's not–”
“Don't.”
“Wukong, It's not your fau–”
“Shut up!” He shouts at him, tears brimming in his eyes. He shouldn't be crying. He doesn't get to cry. Crying is a luxury he shouldn't be given.
“Shut up, Ao Lie. I'm fine. Everything is okay.” He takes a deep breath and opens the door, never once did he look back to see his face. He leaves the room, and just before closing he says.
“Goodbye, Ao Lie.”
For a second, there was silence. Then,
“Goodbye.”
He was not good enough to deserve one last glance at his friend’s dying face.
- - -
No. No, no nonononononONONONO!
A golden glow emits from the mountain. The bright beam pierced the sky . The clouds gather near it, as if it were some kind of divine entity.
No, they’re starting. The ritual, they’re starting the ritual! Wukong feels dread sweep up from his spine. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Someone is going to get hurt, he didn’t even get the final ri-
“No! They were supposed to wait!” He shouts.
“Are you sure the Samadhi Fire is the only way to stop the Lady Bone Demon?”
He is. He absolutely is. There could be no other way. He remembers the oppressive chill that followed him after the journey, even though she was trapped. He remembered the terrors and nightmares. It is the only way, it’s dangerous but if they have the time..
“Only if we move right now!” He focuses his power to his fists, breaking free of the shackles made of bones. It shatters, and he rushes straight to the mountain. He ignores the wind cutting into him. The fierceness of how he flies head-first towards the ritual.
All he could think about is the What-ifs. What if he was too late? What if someone dies? What if someone gets seriously hurt? And it’s all because of him. Seconds feel like minutes, the minutes feel like days. It’s too long. He’s taking too long. His mind conjures more of those morbid fantasies. Those horrifying tales of what could happen because of him. Because he was too weak.
He was the defender, the protector and shield. Atleast, he was supposed to be it.
Wukong shakes his head, ridding himself of any anxious thoughts. He needs to focus on what is important. All he has to do is get to the ritual site and stop it. Drive away any other forces trying to use it for their own gain. That is what is important in this scenario. Simple goals for a simple tool.
He repeats it, the mantra of
stop the ritual
,
defend the crew
, and
simple goals
.
He distracts himself from his raging thoughts, comparable to that of the billowing flames and scorching heat that came from the fire. He winces at the thought of the Samadhi Fire. The destructive force, burning anything in its path. He attempts to ignore the anxiety swirling in his gut. The fire is manageable. They’ve handled it before. They split it into four– three rings already.
It won’t hurt anyone else that he cared for.
He won’t let it.
Not anymore.
Ne Zha follows behind him, flying ahead right after recovering from the shock wave. “Wukong, wai-”
“Please, we need to talk about this.”
“Sorry Ne Zha, can’t chat. With being on a time crunch and all.” He teases, trying to shake off the heavy feeling. Desperately hiding behind that false facade. No one knows, yet. He won’t let anyone know, not until it’s too late.
Once he reaches the site, Wukong almost freezes at the sight of MK’s family, especially Mei. He sees Macaque choking the younger girl, right above the ritual site. The ritual sight, burning with power and ready to pounce.
Immediately, he is filled with a mindless haze. All of the raging thought and burning what-ifs flooding back. His breath hitches in his throat and he starts tearing up. Whether it be because of the scorching heat or the numb, cold guilt building in him, he doesn’t know. All he could think about was how familiar this girl was to a young man who didn’t deserve to
die
. His mind screeches back into a halt.
If the situation were any better, he would’ve started laughing. The stress and hysteria threatening the spill from the charred pot. Instead he feels his heartbeat in his ears and feels his lungs greedily take in air.
She’s going to die. The fire would consume her, consume them.
They are going to die and it’s going to be his fault.
And for the split second that he hesitated, did he sprint into action.
Wukong jumped at Macaque, forcing him to drop the girl. The black furred monkey falls at the impact, getting tossed to the far end of the ritual site. He sees a blood pool at his side, and he bites his lips in order to stop thinking about it. Thinking will lead to problems. It always led to problems.
After a quick glance to make sure that Macaque is not getting up, he immediately turns tails to check up on Mei. The ritual is heating up and only a few seconds later would the entire place start to go up in flames. He holds her gently in his arms, activating his Golden Vision, trying to make sense of the energy fuzzing underneath her skin. He brings his ear close to her chest.
“Monkey king, get off—”
“I’m sorry.”
“What—?”
Wukong pays no mind to the screams of the little girl as he plunges his claws into her chest. A golden aura emits from them as he digs around for something. Apologies spill from his mouth and tears leak from his eyes.
It went on for agonizingly long milliseconds, before the tips of his fingers brush against the scorching hot ring within. Without hesitation, he ripped the ring out from Mei's chest. The strings tying it to her soul snap and pull under the tension.
The circling ring of fire immediately turns to circle the not-yet free ring, as he tugs it from the binds of Ao Lie– of Mei’s soul.
When it doesn’t give way, he shouts a loud “I’m sorry.”, and kicks the girl’s body away from him. He sends her crashing into Macaque's arms, was it Liu’er?– and she gives off a shriek of pain from where she lands. There was a distant cry of “Mei?”, but he could not focus. The sounds of a raging inferno blocking everything else from his mind.
He tries to repeat the same mantra in his head.
defend the crew, simple goals
.
defend the crew, simple goals
.
A deep breath, then:
defend the crew, simple goals
. Was he missing something? He can’t remember.
Slowly, he brings the ring close to his chest.
Wukong could hear voices, belonging to his companions. Baije seems to be shouting something, and he would have scoffed if it weren't so unbearably
hot
. Though from their tone alone, they seem to be disagreeing on something. Their shouts start ringing in his ears, but all he could see was the blazing ring and the urge to protect.
“Don’t worry.”
He mumbles to no one in particular, before plunging the ring into his heart. A horrifying, bone-chilling scream tears from his throat. Crawling out in a gurgling mass of voice and blood. The ring lights up as he brings it closer, searing the tender flesh of his skin. His screams and blood-curdling hysteria-induced laughter pierce through any conversations between his companions. He hunches over himself, the ring burning where it sat on his chest, the other rings clasp onto him. Shackling his arms and throat.
Wukong curls into a ball, consoling himself with the thoughts of protection as the fire burns away skin and heals his flesh.
He feels his arms shrivel into dried clumps of burns and ashes, before being remade into whole. His lungs desperately take in air, in an attempt to live. It’s no use really, he could never die after all.
Just as he was going through the third iteration of burning alive and resurrecting, a young voice rises from the crowd,
“What's happening?! Don't worry, I'm coming for ya! Someone get some water—”
A blurry figure approaches, Macaque? Oh, Liu’er. He lives? This must be some trick to stop him from protecting people. He can’t let them win.
“The fire will destroy him and burn everything in its path.”
No. No, no. It won’t destroy anything.
“No, no, no! It’s safe! I’m perfectly safe!”
Wukong moves his hand in some vague attempt at reassuring his companions.
“Trust me! I can protect you, protect everyone! And Ne Zha, I can protect Master like this!”
His voice cracks as he speaks, as if it were finally buckling under a heavy burden.
Screams of disagreement sound out from Wujing and Baije. Why would they disagree? He’s helping in the progression of their journey. Their journey? Wasn’t it over?
They were dead, right? Then why are they right there?
Oh. Another trick.
“Agh! Stop it. Whoever you are, I am not letting you have the Samadhi Fire. It’s the only way to save everyone.”
Wukong scratches at his fur. They finally burn away and he returns to a state where the burns aren’t too harsh and the smoke hasn’t yet entered his nose. The voices –Not his friends,
not his companions
–rose again, this time they were so sickly sweet with concern. A single voice differs, intense rage building in the way he spoke.
“I know you’re mad, but it’s the only way. I am so sorry. I’m sorry–”
“Shut up! What about Mk, huh?” The same differing voice speaks up, though he could hear the terror in their voice. “You’re going to leave them alone after doing who knows what with this stupid fire?”
The other voices seemingly shut up at the loud tone.
Mk? Oh, no Mk.
“Don’t– Don’t let him see, please.”
He brings his claws closer to his head, to the rising disapproval of the other voices.
“Please, he can’t see. You can’t let him see, please.”
The tears evaporate before they fall from his cheeks.
“Please, he’s the only one I have left. Everyone else died! He’s the only friend I have left. I promised- I told myself that I wasn’t going to get attached. We should have never met, it always leads to death.”
Wukong starts pulling at his hair, trying and failing to ground himself.
“I tried so hard to keep him away from danger AND LOOK WHAT HAPPENED!”
“I did this to keep him safe! I would never, never let him be hurt because of something that was so easily my fault! I’m just a stupid monkey, who could never stop thinking!”
He screams, heart pounding as he burns again for the fifth time.
“It was better when I wasn’t supposed to think, when I was a weapon. A tool for simple goals.”
He laughs bitterly, claws digging into his head and drawing blood.
“That was all I was good for anyways.”
“Monkey King! Please, listen.” Liu’er’s voice rings through the silence following his own statement. “I know you’re scared and you’re hurt, but you don’t have to do this alone. We have each other now and we will keep each other safe.”
Ao Lie speaks up, voice raspy for some odd reason. “That’s right,” though weak, she– he manages to talk. “You don’t have to do this alone, because you are not just a weapon.”
He stands up shakily, and Liu’er helps him get to his feet. When were they friends?
“Listen,”
They walk closer and he tries to scramble as far away as he could.
“You don’t have to do this..”
They’re too close, he won’t be able to get away in time. His bones have shriveled up and his flesh burns to ash, before returning back to skin. He’s weakened and can’t move, but they’ll die if they touch him. He can’t let them touch him, or the fire.
They can’t touch the fire.
The two bring him into a hug.
“Alone!”
The raging inferno finally calms. All that is left is his pounding heartbeat and frantic thoughts. He hugs the two, grasping them tighter and tighter. “You are not just a tool, Monkey King.” Liu’er– Mk tells him.
He cries into the two’s hairs, letting himself relish in the safety that he never got to experience. Finally allowing himself the luxury to cry.
“I’m s
orry.”
His successor hugs him tighter.
“It’s okay. You did okay, Monkey King. That’s what is important.”
Maybe, one day, he could be good enough.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The smoke of burnt fur, clothes and ashes circle around them.
Just moments ago, the fire was uncontrollable. It lashes out and burns anything it came in contact with, rendering anything scorched and charred. The raging inferno was unbearable. The suffering and anguish are pronounced loud and clear to everyone present.
“Trust me! I can protect you, protect everyone! And Ne Zha, I can protect Master like this!”
“I know you’re mad, but it’s the only way. I am so sorry. I’m sorry–”
“It was better when I wasn’t supposed to think, when I was a weapon. A tool for simple goals.”
“That was all I was good for anyways.”
It raged and screamed, exploding and reassembling again and again. The mass of flames and flesh moving in tandem with its emotion.
It could feel nothing else but the agony of burning alive.
Mk snapped himself out of his fervor. This was no “it”. This was Monkey King. He needed help. He was burning alive and losing control
and he needed help
.
So he sprinted into action, trying to calm him down and get him to stop. The fire would only hurt him and Mk still needs him.
The Samadhi Fire is the only thing that can kill him. He doesn't want his mentor dead.
At some point, Mei joins him. They help him calm down. They try to quell the raging inferno, ignoring the stings and the burns. Monkey king tries to scramble away, and he tries not to let the hurt show. They cry, while trying to get closer. The reassurances and things they said might have been a blur but they mean it all the same.
“You don't have to do this alone!”
A shout, or a plea. Whatever it is, it's something that they hope would reach the golden, charred monkey. Something that they hoped would finally let him see reason.
And, against all odds, it worked.
They sat on the floor, crying. The tension and the stress finally reached its peak. The three fall into a mess on the ground, sobbing and hugging each other close. The terror that plagued them was momentarily forgotten, in favor of each other's companionship.
The Monkey King defaulted into apologies and whispers again, but this time quieter and solemn. He could hear the others mumbling about something, but that was not important. They stayed there for a long while, embracing each other.
After a while, he passed out, the fire finally stopping and vanishing into nothing. Except it didn't actually vanish. It lies dormant in Monkey King and Mk is grateful for that at least.
It was terrifying, watching him burn alive. Mk could only watch helplessly while his mentor burned.
Pigsy and Sandy looked as if they were about to vomit. Tang, Along with Ne Zha and Macaque, looked about ready to jump in the fire once Monkey King started trying to rip his hair out. Why would he try to rip his hair out? And Mei, though she was incredibly weak, she still looked horrified. He doesn't know what she was thinking then, but she could see realization dawn in her eyes.
He realized it too, after all. Is it terrible to think that at least it wasn't Mei who was being burned?
“We should have never met, it always leads to death.”
In the mess of apologies and begging, it sounded out loudly. Always leads to death? Oh, how long has he been alone? Mk thinks back to how almost plastic the way Monkey King acts. He has been hiding behind a fake hasn't he?
Monkey king's screams were agonizing to hear. Mk was sure that if it weren't so hot, he would feel cold dread in his guts.
Not one of them thought that this was how the Great Sage Equal to Heaven felt. How long has he gone thinking like this? Was this after the Rampage in Heaven?
When did this start? what caused him to lose eveything he's ever known and believed? Monkey King has been thinking like this for a long time.
Mk fidgets with his jacket as Monkey King is being carried by Sandy.
The tension is heavy in the air, after what they just witnessed. This wasn't what the plan was supposed to be. It was just going to be a save-the-world kind of plan. Why did someone have to get hurt?
“Can you walk on your own, Mei?” He asks. Mei gives a small thumbs up and stands on her own two feet. There is a bright glowing scar where Monkey King ripped out the last ring of Samadhi. It leaks gold but it doesn't seem to be hurting Mei.
The crew go and check up on eachother, though Ne Zha and Macaque stay at the far side. They don't really go near them, but Mk could see their concern.
As for Monkey King..
He sleeps in Sandy's arms, littered with small burns around his body. His fur is singed at the edges and his eyebrows are knitted in pain even unconscious. During the burning-alive-part, his glamours were scorched off of him. A thousand old scars decorate his body. For the brief time that he was awake, his eyes were molten red with golden irises. the fur on his head was long, more akin to hair than fur. Did he never cut them?
Though, the most worrying parts were the golden band around his head. It was worn, dulled. Claw marks could be seen on or around the skin the circlet was on. Macaque looked almost angry when he saw it. The other thing were the rings shackling him, around his throat and wrists. They looked as if they were chains, bounding him to something.
There was also the semi-concealed ring that he tried to fuse to himself, now, it's just a gorey wound in the middle of his chest. Golden blood leaking from it. Sandy took the time to bandage it before carrying him.
“Why don't we head back to the van?” Pigsy says, catching everyone's attention. “A nice bowl of noodles would help us think.”
Tang looks at him, “Yeah, yeah. You're right. We need to get to somewhere safe.”
They begin their long walk back to the Van. The air was stiff with anxiety and paranoia. The whole walk, unbearable to everyone. Tang holds on to Pigsy, a small attempt at comforting themselves. Dadsy holds him back, tightly. A reassuring smile plastered on his face, hiding the anxiety.
Sandy's lips are pressed into a thin line, but other than that? Nothing gave away how tense he was feeling. Macaque solemnly looks from the shadows, and Ne Zha walks beside Sandy. When asked, they would say something about protecting the fire and how safer it is to be grouped together. They know what the two really mean anyway.
Mk tries to lighten the mood with a few jokes and talking with Mei. But it's still too tense. What just happened and what they learned lay heavily over their minds. The unspoken words of
“Please, don't hate me.”
from a tired, pleading voice lingering in the atmosphere.
Once they reach the van, everything is put to rest. They place the Monkey King in the bed of the Van. Pigsy went ahead and surrounded him with ice, while Sandy tried to keep him cool. Monkey King was incredibly hot to the touch, and so they wanted to try to bring the temperature down. They change his bandages before finally going back outside to meet the group.
Tang has just finished informing everyone of Monkey King's condition. Ne Zha had gone ahead and made a small fire while Tang was talking. He said that Monkey King had a bunch of wounds that were instantly cauterized, a fever that was much too high, and a bunch of other medical things.
Pigsy and Sandy agree to what he said.
“But.. I wanted to know why the rings shackled him, instead of going in him.” Tang had said, book open in front of him. “I did some digging and I think I have an answer. The ritual had already started when He ripped the fire out from Mei. The fire needs a vessel. So, when it was yanked out of her, it started searching for one. Which means..”
“When Monkey King placed it in him, it reacted immediately giving him no time to react?” Mei says, a grim expression adorning her features. Tang sighs, closing the book. “Yes, exactly.”
Macaque turns his head away, pretending he wasn't listening in. Mk slumps where he sits, trying and failing to keep his hopes up. “But Monkey King is going to be fine, right?” Mei asks
Tang sits up straight, while Mk replies. “Of course, he is seven times immortal! The immortal Monkey King and all!”
“That may be true.. but I don't think he’ll be left unscathed.” Pigsy raises an eyebrow at Tang's statement. “Why’s that?”
“I've been counting how many times he burned and.. I think that he lost a few layers of his.. you know, immortality.” Tang says solemnly, looking away from the group.
A giant hole of shadows opens up in front of him. Macaque pops out, grabbing him by the collar of his clothes. “Explain.”
Tang's glasses are jostled as he tries to frantically get out of his grip. “Wha- okay, but let me go first!”
“Oi, you better let him go!”
Macaque scoffs and drops him, while Tang falls onto the cold floor. “Well?” His tail lashes out behind him, and Mk is inclined to believe that he still cares.
Macaque's tail coils in agitation. He hates Wukong, hates him with a burning passion. Sweet words and a few new information are unable to mask the pain that killing him had done. Of the anger and resentment that fueled the both of them. But..
He cares. Reluctantly that is. But Wukong can't die. It's unfair.
For both of them.
Wukong needs to make it up to him, for killing him. For hurting him, for leaving him.
He hates Wukong. But he doesn't want him dead. At least not anymore.
“Look, from what I've read, the Samadhi fire isn't supposed to burn its user. It would simply be too much power at someone's hand. Not only that, but it would seem to be something that gets integrated at birth, you develop a level of tolerance to its heat.” He takes a deep breath before speaking.
“That's why Red Son wasn't hurt originally, while Monkey King got burned. He did not have the tolerance to be the fire's vessel.”
He scoffs and the black-furred monkey tries to shadow portals away, but Mk grabs him. Macaque reluctantly stays, but noticeably farther away from the group.
The woods where they stay are eerie. The quietness emphasizes the tension between them.The others stay silent, letting the information process in their mind.
Mk fidgets with his jacket again. Could Monkey King no longer be immortal? Is he on his last layer? But that's impossible. He's The Immortal Monkey King! There's no way he could lose all those layers to some fire. He's been immortal for who knows how long!
Would Monkey King die if he fights against LBD?
Mk looks around, seeing the others come to the same conclusion as him. Even though some of them had been less welcoming to the guy, they did not want him dead. Especially since he knows that they know that he'll be devastated if ever he dies.
Because he trusts his mentor, even after everything. He was like an older brother to him. He tries to be better, he tries to help him.
“I did this to keep him safe! I would never, never let him be hurt because of something that was so easily my fault!”
Monkey King wants him to be safe.
“So,” Dadsy breaks the tense silence, “We all agreeing that he ain't taking part in the fight?”
A chorus of agreement rings out, in varying intensities.
“There's no way we're even letting him out of the van!” Mei says, fists rising up in that air.
“That's right!” He agrees, “Monkey King deserves better. We don't need him to be a weapon to win!”
Tang and Sandy smile despite the sense of mourning that stays. Because Monkey King does deserve better. Despite what he says, he has done a lot of Good for this world. He helped them all through a lot, and maybe they were a little too harsh for a guy who is trying.
Because at the end of the day, Monkey King is still a person. Behind all that fake bravado and confidence. Behind the grandiose facade of power and strength, was an imperfect man. He wasn’t perfect, he made mistakes. Their constant judging makes it worse.
He was already burning under his guilt and mistakes. They were just adding fuel to the fire. Monkey King was not perfect, so they shouldn’t be treating him as anything less than a man. He was no weapon, and they are going to do all they can to drill that thought into the monkey’s brain!
“But before we do that, we need it to be safe.” Mk, the man with the plan, puts his fists to his palm. “We need to get rid of LBD.”
Macaque stares incredulously at the crew, They talk is if it were any simpler but they could not be farther from the truth. Right now, the Lady Bone Demon is at her most powerful, even if she is stuck in some mortal vessel. With the power from the staff, it would be quite hard to catch her. Killing her would be difficult. He moves closer to the group. “Tough luck, bud. How are we gonna beat the Lady Bone Demon without the Fire of Samadhi?”
“Macaque is right, Wukong was especially insistent that the Samadhi fire was the only way to beat her.” Ne Zha adds, though notably more neutral than Macaque. Sun Wukong made it abundantly clear to him that the fire was the only way. Despite everything he said to convince the Monkey otherwise, he was dead set on it. And if he were that confident in his reason, then he could only be telling the truth.
There was only one option and neither Macaque nor Ne Zha liked the option.
“Well..”
Mk brings out a board from who knows where, and lifts out a marker.
“Me and the gang go and distract LBD, while Ne Zha and Tang go ahead and seal her away again? They already managed to seal her in a coffin, once. Except, this time, chuck her under some big mountain.”
“I’m sorry, but why exactly am I on the list?” Ne Zha sighs, a headache already forming in the back of his head.
“Well, You see, Monkey King’s out of commission and–”
“It was both him and Tripitaka who sealed away the Lady Bone Demon” Tang pipes up.
“So you are the best replacement candidate!”
From behind him a chorus of celebrating people is heard, and when they turn around, Mei holds her phone with a soundboard. “Sorry, couldn’t resist! But..” she whips around and yanks Mk into a side hug. “Monkey Man’s right! You are our best bet! So why don’t you agree now, hey?”
“Really? And what if you don’t manage to seal her? What then?” Macaque grits out. Even then, you could still hear the concern in his voice. He gestures towards the two. “Jangles only really started with his powers, yes? And Ne Zha wasn’t there when they sealed The Lady Bone Demon.”
“Well, we still have some time! We can search through books, libraries, maybe even ask DBK if he knows anything.” Mk says, “We only really need a clue, then we can take it from there.
“Fine, if you must–”
Ne Zha is cut off by a high pitched scream of pain from the T.E.A.. The voice sounded raspy and painful. It rings out into the quiet night, echoing in their minds. In the silence of the night, that is the only thing they could hear. It sounded like pure, unfiltered agony and the crew froze in shock.
They only move again once they see a bright flash emit from the van.
Mk rushes towards the T.E.A.. He slams open the door and heads straight for the beds. The room is a mess, of slightly charred fabrics and broken glass. The van was empty. Monkey King isn't here.
What happened? Was Monkey King hurt? Where did he go?
He shouts a panicked “Monkey King’s missing!” which prompted the people outside to begin searching. Mk frantically searches through the entire van, desperately hoping for some kind of sign from the King.
Where is he?
“The window!” Mei points towards the shattered window next to the beds. He looks outside of the window, seeing the shadow monkey hunched over something. He jumps out of the van to see, asking what he was looking at.
“Footsteps. Ones that are charred.” Just as he said that, a giant ball of light erupts from in front of them. The surrounding trees and bushes catch on fire as a blazing ball of fire rushes out into the night sky. It was loud, an explosion of noise and fire from behind the trees that spread out into the sky.
Monkey King.
That was Monkey King.
Macaque tries to shadow portal after him, but Monkey King is already too far gone. He doesn't know accurately where he is, so he can’t follow after him. Besides, he doesn’t seem to want their help, so why should he give it?
“No!” Mk shouts. Pigsy rounds the corner as he shouts, carefully guiding the young man into a hug.
“Sandy, get the van moving, we need to follow that Monkey, now.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Wukong floats in that void of black, mind far too hazy to comprehend anything. The world was a show of colors and noises. He tries to return to consciousness, but it is unbearable for him. It was far too loud and far too overwhelming. Everything seems to move in hypnotic ways, phantom sensations and touches brush along his skin.
He feels as if he were aware of everything around him, but never fully understanding either.
The scorching pain doesn’t help either.
He says some things, he knows. Apologies and explanations, he mumbles out while hugging two figures. But the contents evade him. He feels the flicker of a thought, only for it to slip from him and leave him confused. Like water, dripping from his open palms through cracks and crevices.
When he isn’t focusing on the haze of words he is saying, he feels the blinding white pain of something embedded in his chest. It burns in him, pure agony reaching into his core. It was as if a million shards of glass found their way into his heart. Every movement, every step was pain. Each jostle, each touch sending a painful jolt to his senses, forcing him to scream.
He doesn’t.
Instead he returns to that peaceful ignorance. That haze of lights and sounds. He tries to ignore the pain blossoming from his chest, the heavy weight of metal across his wrists and throat. Wukong tries to avoid confronting the reason for the pain, the ring that started all of this.
The images of a motley crew of demons flash before his eyes. The joy. The pain. He sees them there, a reminder of what he should have been. A protector, a tool, and a weapon. That was his purpose.
The thoughts and feelings slip away from him. They fade away into nothingness. The all encompassing void, a host to everything he tries to keep hidden.
Wukong sleeps.
He is back in his palace. In his little hut, sheltered from the cruel world. Curling into himself, he combs through the locks of his hair. They are cut painfully short. Far too short than he should like. But that is fine, it makes going through his routine much smoother.
Wukong falls back into his tireless habit of patrolling the mountain, taking stock of every little new thing. He takes note of the growing fruit trees along the edges. He surveys the pointed rocks far out that protect the island. The monkeys enjoy bathing and playing in a nearby spring, laughter echoing through the creek.
Everyone is safe, nothing has gone close to the mountain. No intruders or anything who might bear ill will to the occupants of his island. He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
They are safe. For now.
He halts in his walk, just as he was about to enter the stone palace. No, no, they need to be safe. Wukong does another lap around the island, making sure that everyone on the mountain is safe and content. When he returns to the palace, the thought comes across his mind again. He feels sick with worry and panic, what if they aren’t safe at all?
So he continues his rounds. Walking along Flower Fruit Mountain again and again and again. Searching for any intruders or any signs of conflicts. It is only when he is exhausted and delirious did he sag against the nearest tree.
The worry, panic and terror finally catch up to him and he curls against the bark of the tree. The air never quite entering his lungs and his heart feeling so, so numb. Wukong closes his eyes.
The first thing that he is aware of, is the ash and smoke in his lungs. He dissolves into fits of coughs, wheezing and hacking. The smoke irritates his eyes, bringing to mind the pain and terror of the furnace. The next he feels is the overwhelming heat. Like magma, bubbling from underground and seeping into his skin. The flames lash out onto his skin, scorching and burning whatever they can touch.
A raging inferno that could never be stopped.
One that is consuming and burning the mountain. Then, the dread comes rushing back. The panic, the terror, gripping and crushing him underneath the weight. The despair takes root in his mind, mocking him with all of the What-ifs he had failed to consider. It was all his fault. The thought of this happening while he was asleep, enough to bring him to his knees. What had he done?
He sees the faces in the flames.
Of figures he had once regarded as his best, his purpose and his reason. He recalls the joy and the warmth that he shared with them, the promises and oaths he took for them. Wukong sees the figures, crying and pleading. They tell him to stop, to listen to them for once. But he didn’t.
He never once listened. It was all his fault, really.
The hallucination of his friends of people bites into him. Their pain and anguish.. And it's all his fault. This was his fault, the burning ring in his chest. That numbness overtakes him, but this time there is an underlying threat of scorching fire.
He just wanted to protect everyone. Wukong wanted to be their star, their sun. Protection and warmth keeping everyone together. A loving hearth, one that brings peace.
He was never any of those.
He was just some stupid monkey who keeps messing things up. Who burns everyone that he ever cared about. And this was all his fault.
This was all his fault.
This was all his fault.
This was all his fault, this was all his fault.
This was all his fa
ult, this was all his fault.
This was all his fault, this was all his fault. This was all his fault, this was all his fault.
This was all his fault, this wa
s all his fault. All his fault, all his faULT, ALL HIS FAULT!
He wakes up, gasping for breath. His heartbeat thumps loudly in his ears, there’s sweat beading from his brow. It feels so hot. He tries to take a moment to catch his breath, but his lungs just wouldn’t cooperate.
It all feels so hot and so heavy, like an unseen burden shackling him down. His breaths are shallow and fast, and he can’t seem to relax. Wukong’s eyes scan the room in a frenzied panic, but he never really sees the room. The fire burns uncomfortably hot, and the ring in his chest aches. The ring pulses, and he jolts in pain. He feels nothing but pure, blindingly hot pain. It continued for what felt like ages, the pain was unbearable.
The only thing that Wukong could feel, see, or hear, is the terror, the pain, and the burning ring seizing his chest.
It hurts so badly.
The fire rages on, growing more intense as time passes by. Seconds turn to minutes turn to hours, all the while the magma under his skin boils. It boils and burns him from the inside, the heat causing him to see things, illusions of friends and families.
Wukong does not know how long he spent, trapped in the confines of his own mind and the fire in his soul. But once it ends, he is left writhing in pain on the floor. And, finally, he could feel again. First, he feels the tears dripping from his eyes and cheeks. Next, the cold floor of the T.E.A, as he lays there unmoving. Lastly, he feels blood gushing from his arm.
Wait- Where did the blood come from?
He moves to sit, attempting to lean against one of the walls. Wukong uses his hands to try and balance him, when he realizes. Something is taken from his mouth and now he could feel his teeth lose some burden. When he looks down, he sees that he had bitten into his arm.
Weird.
Now that he has sobered up a bit, he looks at the state of the room around him. It was a mess. Glass cups and cloth scattered about, random bits and bobs knocked over and on the floor. You would think that a hurricane had been in the van and rumpled everything up. If it weren't for the blood staining the floor.
Wait. “Agh..” Wukong scrambles for the bathroom, knees wobbly and weak. Getting there was a whole other thing that he could not deal with. It felt as if he didn’t have any control on his body. Too sluggish and weak to do anything significant. Walking alone was such a horrible experience that he immediately lays his weight on the bathroom sink. He fiddles with the tap for a few moments, limbs not quite cooperating with him. Once he finally grips it, he opens it and washes the blood off his arms.
It was only after the sink had drained all of the bloody water did he deem himself okay.
“Mk?” He called out, but there was no reply. That made sense actually, if Mk were here he would have helped him calm down. The young boy, at least compared to his age, has a heart of gold. He is so courageous and brave that Wukong could not help to be anything but proud.
He was strong, quick to learn, and he had friends that would move the moon and sun to help him. They would always have each other's backs and nothing would change that. Sometimes, when he is all alone with nothing but his thoughts. When the days grow cold and he sleeps in the dark, because he could not bear to think that he was
gone
-
Wukong wishes, prays really, that he could have them back. That he could go back to those young days of innocent laughter and whimsy. That he could put all of this behind him and forget. Wukong wants to meet his friends, companions, family.. But he could not.
No matter what he does, any power, spells, or magic would fail. He could not turn back time.
On days like those, he regrets his immortality.
He shakes away the thoughts, Wukong has a job to do. He has no time for mourning or memories. Right now, he needs to get to the Lady Bone Demon and burn her off the face of the earth.
Wukong takes the doorknob in his hand and tur-
“So,” He stops, hand still resting on the doorknob. Pigsy has sounded resigned, maybe scared? There was a gruff tremble in his voice. He brings his ear closer to the door. “We all agreeing that he ain't taking part in the fight?” What? Who is not joining the fight?
Sandy? Maybe Tang.. Mk can handle himself, though if you were to ask Wukong he’d wish the kid didn’t have to.
He hears a muffled chorus of agreement through the door. It wasn’t the kind that you’d get from celebration, more of an understanding. Who isn’t joining the fight?
“There's no way we're even letting him out of the van!”
But.. He’s the only one in the van?
“That's right!” Mk says, this time determination and hopefulness shining in his voice. “Monkey King deserves bett-”
Him? They aren’t going to let him fight. No, no. They have to let him fight! He’s the only way that they could ever win this fight, this battle with
her
. How could they? Don’t they see? Everyone else would get hurt, some of them could die, but he couldn’t! So clearly,
clearly
, he should be the one fighting! That was his job!
Wukong falls on the floor, as the pain triples. His heart aches, feeling as if a thousand spears punctured his heart again and again and again. He feels dizzy, the overwhelming heat taking over his senses.
They can’t! They can’t let him stay here, while they get hurt! While they are in danger! It’s his fault! “Wukong, It's not your fau–” Why don’t they understand? So many people died because of him. Because of his mistakes! No one was supposed to die, and the only way was for them to
let Wukong keep them safe
.
The burning in his chest gets louder, obstructing him from hearing or feeling anything else. There is a wetness to his eyes and his vision blurs. Why won’t they let him help them?
They are going to stop him.
He can’t let them stop him. Wukong needs to be their weapon, he needs to kill the Lady Bone Demon. No matter what it takes.
He stumbles back, clutching his chest in pain as the fire burns hotter within him. A shrill noise escapes his mouth, and he knows he needs to leave as soon as possible. The others would do all they could to stop him. And he can’t ever let them do that. It’s the only way.
The only way.
Please, just let him keep them safe.
He gets out of the van, breaking a window in the process. The tiny shards dig into his skin, causing new wounds to erupt. The wounds amplified the pain, burning hot fire sourced from the ring letting out into a blinding dark light as he lands on the scorched grass.
Wukong stands up, ignoring the pain. He walks a few steps forward before he hears someone shout. No, no.. Did they see him? In a feat of desperation, Wukong launches into the sky in a fiery trail of light. Each second burns him, scorches him, but he will live. He just needs to get as far away from them as possible, as fast as possible. He could walk for the rest of the days, or perhaps run. What was important was not letting them catch up to him.
If they do, he won’t be able to defend them.
He is a weapon, he will be their weapon, and if all else fails, he will die as their weapon.
No one else will have to die.
Then, and only then, when the threat is gone and the others are safe, will he ever be good enough.
(“Wukong, It's not your fault. I chose to protect Master. Please, forgive yourself..
I already have.”)
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
It was the evening after the ritual. Even hours later, the pungent smell of the Samadhi Fire runs through the entire site. It pulses with leftover energy, power from the sigils embedding in the ground below. Despite the danger already being sealed away in the small golden rings, Wukong could not shake off the dread. Instead of voicing his thoughts, he brought on his signature smile and shrugged it off. His companions have decided to settle down at the base of the mountain, away from the debris and away from the overwhelming power left behind. While they were fixing up the camp, he had decided to do a quick survey around the area. The ritual, as grandiose as it is with all the fancy lights and sigils decorating the dark sky just moments ago, was sure to attract some unwanted attention. Even if they had already finished the journey, it was still important to stay on guard. There are a bunch of demons out there that would love to take advantage of the situation, and he can’t have that. Wukong needs to continue to protect them, no matter if the journey’s over or if they were in no need of his services. He had first decided to check the top of the ritual site. Though it was unlikely for some lowly demon to make their way up here without any of them knowing, it wouldn’t hurt to check. The place was empty. Silent and eerie, the powers laying dormant in the still earth. After, he descended the mountain, looking over the trees and forests. A quick perimeter check to make sure that nothing is wrong. Just as he turned a tree, a hand yanked his arm. Immediately, he dropped into a fighting stance. He dismisses his cloud, and crouches low. Wukong twists the offending hand and drops him onto the cold hard ground– Him?! On the ground, almost blending in with the green grass, lies his friend Ao Lie. His hair is tousled, white strands falling haphazardly everywhere. “Ahahaha.. Wukong! How are you?” The ginger monkey stares wide-eyed at the dragon. “Jeez, Ao Lie you scared me! What are you even doin-” All at once, his friend’s demeanor changed. Ao Lie grew serious, a firm expression planted on his face. He takes Wukong’s hand in his, placing it on his chest. This time, Wukong’s eyes widened for a drastically different reason. Underneath the body of his friend, under all of those flesh and bones, was an undeniable power. It pulses in the confines of his soul, a warmth tucked away and dormant for the time being. A ring, holding the Samadhi Fire. “You feel it too, Wukong?” All at once, he feels as if he were drowning under the water. Despite the intense heat hidden away in his friend, he feels numb and cold. The realization swept over him, and he is left clinging to the knowledge. Wukong takes a few steps back, inching closer to the dark shade of the trees. The grass crinkles beneath him, the only sound accompanying the harsh silence in the area. It was dark, with only the light in Ao Lie’s eyes illuminating the clearing they stood in. There was a sense of danger now, in the way his eyes glowed. Like a bonfire in the night. Oh.. Oh Merciful Guanyin, It can’t be. “Ao Lie.. How..?” “I don’t know either. Though.. It may have been from..” When he took the hit for Master. The stray fire that hit him. It was then, wasn’t it? When the fire merged with him, he became its host. It was then when the fire, small and insignificant, something that was just a fragment of the bigger picture, solidified into a ring and got buried underneath him. One that, in the haze of fire, power, and sigils got away and slipped into his friend. “From the ritual?” Ao Lie gives a shaky nod. Wukong couldn’t help but leave. “Wukong, wait-!” Wukong was already gone, speeding off into a different part of the woods. He drops down, falling under the thick canopy and landing on the soft grass. His mind still racing with what he learned. He knows leaving Ao Lie alone was not the most polite thing that he had done, but he can’t keep himself together. His composure slipping through the cracks. He takes a deep breath, willing himself to calm down. Except he can’t. He tugs at his fur as he paces around the forest, chewing at the bottom of his lip. He tries to breathe, but his lungs feel like stone and his muscles feel like they have been stretched taut. The grass folds and crumples underneath his constant pacing. He tries, he really does, but all he could think about was how this could have all been avoided if he had just been better. He should have been better, end of discussion. Because of him, his friend is stuck with some extremely destructive power, capable of destroying reality itself! And it was all his fault. It was his fault. The fire, the ring, it could only be his fault. He falls to his knees, gripping tightly at the fur near his head. Wukong bends down, tears falling and burning a trail across his cheeks. He holds himself close, some small form of comfort as he cries. The darkness seems to surround him, the trees towering high over him, mocking him who sits on the forest floor. Wukong chokes on his words and sobs, everything else a blur for the ginger monkey. There was no one there, safe and private, but it still felt wrong. It felt wrong for him to cry. It felt wrong for him to feel terrible about something that he caused. How selfish did he have to be? He should be with Ao Lie, comforting him and helping him. Why wasn’t he helping? He has to help to make up for everything he did. How dare he cry about a mistake that he wouldn't even suffer from. (Did he not learn anything from Mihoubefore?) Wukong gets up and returns to Ao Lie. Everything else was a blur of apologies, pain, and gut-wrenching guilt. - - - The ride was tense and quiet. None of them are able to do anything, not without risking themselves. It felt like a lidded pot, boiling and bubbling, but not quite enough to leak out. Everyone of them sit, staring at the same old objects, desperate to calm their racing thoughts. Mk was no exception. It had always been hard for him to stay still, always acting on instinct. Now? He is being forced to sit in a small van, while his basically-older-brother is out there risking his life for no reason! Not only that, but Monkey King is seriously injured and burning alive and this could have all been avoided if he had just talked to them and trusted them and it hurts because he wants Monkey King to trust them. Trust him. The thought is driving him insane, like a dog chasing after an imaginary rabbit. He resists the urge to pull out his hair, instead fiddling with the hem of his jacket. He paces the Van, trying to steady his racing thoughts. He isn’t mad mad, but he doesn’t know what to describe it. He didn’t like how secretive his Mentor would be, but he wanted to extend his trust. Sure it may have been broken before, and it may never be the same, but he trusts that Monkey King has good intentions. Mk knows that everything Monkey King did was with their safety in mind. And if everything he had said were true —which, to be honest, definitely is— A certain Monkey needs to be dragged to a talk with Sandy. Speaking of which, he seems particularly tense. Sandy is holding the steering wheel a little too tight. Mei has been glaring at, well, something. While Tang is in a very heated research session, which Pigsy was being dragged into. There are two left and Mk is a bit confused. I mean, he got the impression that they didn’t care much about Monkey King. Yet, they are right here, trying to help them. At least he thinks so. They.. Aren’t really doing much. “So.. Can you tell me why you can’t chase after Monkey King again?” Mk pokes at the God, laying on the bed of the T.E.A.. Ne Zha, who is utterly exhausted, turns his head slowly at the young hero. “I have explained this already. I had used up all of my power getting us out of the Lady Bone Demon’s ice.” “But you could still fly?” “Child.” The God said sternly, as if he himself wasn’t some eternal child. “I would be of no help to Wukong or you if I could not stop him. He is wild and erratic. It would be best if I stayed by your side.” Macaque scoffs. He leans against the inner wall of the van, almost hiding himself in the shadows. “Please. Spare us the trouble. You Gods rather laze around in the Celestial Realm, you are all useless.” “Watch your tongue, Monkey.” Ne Zha says, moving to sit on the couch. “Besides! Why are you all fixated on helping Wukong? He lied to all of you, He got all of you hurt. He even abandoned you.” “Monkey King did not abandon me.” “Agree to disagree.” The Shadow Monkey sinks into the floor before reappearing next to him. He places a firm hand on Mk’s shoulder, “That doesn’t mean that everything else was wrong. You should be mad at him.” An uncomfortable silence spreads over the Van. Mk fidgets with his jacket, the accusation ringing in his ears. He should be mad at him. He doesn’t want to be. Sure what Monkey King may have done was wrong, and it had hurt most of– if not, everyone in the T.E.A. right now. Despite that, Mk trusts that he had his reasons. He trusts that Monkey King had something in mind that they did not know. He trusts Monkey King, not as the legend, but as his Mentor. He trusts Monkey King as himself. Right now, all they had was trust. A glass, broken so many times, but each step getting closer and closer to what they needed. “Maybe we are mad.” Pigsy says, standing up from where he sat with Tang. He walks over to the monkey, jabbing a finger at him. “Maybe I believe that there are better ways to handle this.” He huffs, arms folded over his chest. “But he doesn't deserve what he is going through. I can put away my anger and focus on keeping the kid's mentor safe.” “Pigsy is right.” his best friend, Mei pipes up. She hurls her sword over her right shoulder, making an awesome hero pose. Mk knows that Mei knows that she looks cool. “No matter what he did, he shouldn't have to suffer.” Macaque clicks his tongue, disapproval evident on his face. “What? And he deserves a second chance–” “You don't have to come.” ,Mk interrupts. “You don't have to, but you're here. I know you and Monkey King have some rough history, and I know that you don't really want to help him..” He says, standing up while the T.E.A. moves on at an almost dizzying speed. He lifts his hands close and asks, “Could you atleast get us there? You could leave right after.” Macaque huffs a laugh, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes. “I think you're forgetting that I am no–” “Stop. You keep playing at being this bad guy, acting like you're just in it for you. But I know, deep, deep down, you're not that guy. Help us. Make it right.” “Why should I? I'm no hero, kid.” “Then be a warrior, at least just for a while.” His hand outstretched, Mk pleads with the Black-furred Monkey. He hopes that maybe his eyes show what else he wants to say. That maybe, Macaque could see that Mk wants nothing more than to actually be friends with him. Maybe that the two monkeys would finally be able to bond, if only just to be able to understand each other. He hopes that Macaque could see in Mk the life that he wanted to live, and that he would choose the right step to get there. Macaque sighs, letting his arms fall not in resignation, but acceptance. At least, that's what Mk thinks. “Alright, Kid. You win.”, he says as the windows are encased in a purplish hue of black. “If I remember anything from Wukong, he's impatient. He's gonna head straight to LBD, I'm sure.” A wide grin spreads across the Monkey’s face. “We'll just have to meet him there.” - - - Wukong had been flying for a long time. He doesn't quite remember how long, but all he knows is that his bones ache and his flesh burns. He's been flying, flying, flying, trying to reach something he doesn't remember. The cold night air bites at him as he soars through the sky, no care for clouds or storms. He has a goal. One that needs to be done as soon as possible. If not- The hot metal sizzles, bringing his attention to the burning pain. He falters in the sky, losing his momentum and focus. Wukong falls, before catching himself just before he reaches the ice cold ground. Close to the ground, he sees the blue that encases the land. The harsh frost that latches onto anything it can. The Lady Bone Demon. That's what he needs to stop. That's what his job is. Find and kill her. A simple task, one that he couldn’t mess up. One that he won't let himself mess up. That's all he ever does- Wukong takes a deep breath, clutching at the fur near his head. Slowly, he brings himself to an eerie calm. One of focus and determination. He takes off again, this time faster than before. The gloomy world and stars left behind in a blur. The fire burns hotter within him, and he feels it start eating away at the cold ice below. Then, in a burst of fire and smoke, he stops. Before him, is the towering mech of the Lady Bone Demon. This is it. This will be the end.
(The end of what? Wukong, what are you-)
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Despite his weary and aching bones, he stands tall on the frozen floor of Megapolis. The once thriving and beautiful city, reduced to nothing but a freezing wasteland of cold corpses. The chilled night air grows cold in his lungs. Yet, he never once did feel cold. The fleeting ideas of cold and ice burnt, in the ashes of the spark in his chest. The fire growing stronger and killing him from the inside. But it can’t. It can’t kill him.
He is immortal, and as an immortal: it is best that he is the one to do this. Anyone could get hurt, or worse– killed! Since he couldn’t die, this is the best use of him!
Wukong ignores the pang of sizzling fire inside him and focuses on the objective.
He sees the Lady Bone Demon standing in a grand room, broken apart to show the cold, night sky. He does not hesitate to launch himself at the room, paying no attention to the way that his body seizes at the movement. He falls on himself, as the fire burns hotter inside him. His claws pierce his skin as a distant scream rang in his ears. The flesh on his skin seemingly breaking down and burning up, unable to fully regenerate–
No. No, no no no. He
can
regenerate. This is the reason he is doing this. Because he won’t die!
Another surge of that blinding white pain. This time, he feels the sound of screams tearing out from his own throat. There’s a weird metallic taste from it and it causes him to choke on the sound. He falls to the ground again– when had he gotten up? –and Wukong coughs blood on the frozen ground. The red and gold, a striking contrast to the dark blues of the ice on the floor. Wukong trembles on the floor, the aftershocks of the painful fire still weighing on him. Some part of him realizes that there are tears on his cheek, a burning sensation trailing down his flesh.
He blinks, trying to shake off the fog of pain and hysteria in his head. Wukong releases his hands from the deathgrip he has on his arms. When he does, the blood drips down in some sort of morbid waterfall. He stands up, shakily balancing himself on the cold ice. The claws on his feet pierce the frosted ground in order to root him and let him stand. He refocuses his vision on where the golden pillar of power resides, encased in
her
haunting, cold ice. That was the staff. He just needs to kill the Lady Bone Demon, get the staff, return it to Mk, then leave. That was it.
He brushes off the invasive cold battling with the fire seared into his flesh, and takes off. The ground breaks as he jumps, inwardly wincing at the ache in his feet. The fire grows hotter, and he blazes across the sky, like a star towards its final destination. Falling from its place in the heavens, and killing anything it touches.
“Wukong.” “
Wukong”
Ao Lie stops him from leaving.
The Lady Bone Demon stares at him. A challenge, daring him to take a step closer. “For as long as time itself, I've had this recurring dream.”
“At first, its meaning was unclear. Now, I know it was a premonition. The very moment I finally achieved my ambition: to perfect this imperfect world.” She looks out into the gaping hole, some sort of twisted fondness in the way she looks so softly at the twinkling stars. She turns back to him with a cold expression. Wukong feels a shiver go through his spine. “Wukong, I don’t need you to take it from me. This is my choice. You can’t take that away.” Why won’t he understand that this is for the best?
“The Samadhi Fire is the final piece of the game: A tool destiny has gifted me to complete my work.” She says, the grin on her face growing wide with joy and pride.
“It might kill me, I don’t care! I’m not letting you have it when you are like..” Ao Lie gestures at him. Annoyance in his voice. “Like this!”
The Lady Bone Demon looks at him, like a predator hunting its prey. A snake, staring down at some lowly rat. His fist clenches, his claws drawing blood. “Well, I’ll have you know that that’s not happening!” He shouts, and he could still feel the iron in his throat from his screaming just moments prior. Wukong takes a tentative step forward, hiding the way he flinched at the pain and the fire bubbling from under his skin. A toothy grin appears on her face. “Truly..? Why, it seems that Destiny has just gifted it to me on a silver platter! Sun Wukong, you are no match in this fight.”
Wukong laughs, despite his raspy, worn throat. He gives her an arrogant smirk. “Pfft.. In a fight? Duh. You see, what's different is that I don't have to fight you. I just need..”
He crouches down, the movement sending fire up his muscles.
“To
kill
you.”
She returns the smirk, and he can see the way her power turns frigid around her. “No backup, no weapon. Are you planning on mutilating a child?”
“We both know that’s
not
what you are.”
- - -
“Wukong, what are you not understanding?!” Ao Lie shouts. He stands up, a rare thing to happen especially after the last few weeks. There are tears in his eyes, the sun in the window behind him casting him in a golden glow. His hair is dishevelled, white strands falling all over. The monkey in question, hunches on himself. His arms are crossed over his chest as he huffs. “Ao Lie, you are the one not understanding. This is the best course of action for everyone!”
His eyes alight in offense, Wukong fears that the fire might awaken in him.
“Everyone?! Are you so sure?”
He crosses the big room in an instant, his feet making heavy thuds against the marble floors. For someone so small, he commands a lot of power. Probably from his dragon heritage.
“Wukong, this is
not
the best course for everyone!”
Why not? This is perfect, everyone is safe and is in no risk of dying! Too many died already. Wukong doesn’t get why Ao Lie is so defensive about this. Does he want to risk his life? “And why not? You have no experience with the fire, you can lose control and kill everyone! If I take it, I’ll be fine. I am immortal, right?” He spreads his arms out at his side, trying to prove a point. Since he is immortal, he can’t die! So it is perfectly safe for him to take the fire. Not only that, but he knows multiple isolated areas where he could practice it safely. Sure he
could
show these places to Ao Lie, but he isn’t in the best shape to practice controlling the fire. If its own owner could not control it, what makes Ao Lie think he could control it? At Least with Wukong there is a chance, plus! He! Can’t! Die!
Ao Lie’s face twists into a myriad of different emotions, before settling on some form of understanding. “Wukong, I need you to listen to me.” Oh. Oh great. This is how it is huh? All about the way that he should be acting. Or maybe about how this isn’t safe for him. He’s immortal! Why can’t he understand?
“Ao Lie, I am fine. I don’t need to listen to any words of wisdom or speeches of blah blah,” He hopes that the dragon doesn’t notice the way his tail lashed out at the words. “This is just what I think benefits everyone! This way, I can put an end to things.”
Whatever he was going to say next, Ao Lie’s words died on his tongue. He takes a step back, something like fear and concern flitting through his eyes. Wukong briefly wonders what could have possibly caused him to be so scared. He said nothing that could cause such a reaction.
Wukong sighs. At this rate, he wouldn’t be able to convince Ao Lie to give him the ring. The thought makes him shiver, so he turns to leave. Maybe he could bring this up again some other day, maybe even when Ao Lie finally comes to his senses. When he turns however, he feels a frantic tug at his hand. He is abruptly turned to face the owner of the hand. “What was that for–?”
“The end of what? Wukong, what are you talking about?!” His two hands grab him by the shoulders in a deathgrip, with power he could never have thought could come from him.
“The end of the Samadhi Fire.” He lies.
Well atleast, it felt like a lie. Maybe once before it was the truth, maybe he really wanted to be rid of the Samadhi Fire forever. Now? He's not quite sure. But there was something else.
There was another layer to the plan. A reason as to why he was so insistent on Ao Lie giving him the Fire. Another thought, a small nagging idea. One that took him by surprise as its claws takes root in his mind. One that crawls from the inky depths of his shadows, and latches onto the way he speaks, the way he moves, the way he thinks.
It felt invasive. It felt right.
(It has to be right. If it isn’t, that would mean there is something wrong with him. That there was something wrong with how he was treated. If it was wrong, why did he have to suffer from it?)
The vice grip on his shoulder moves lower, until they fall comfortably just above his elbow. Then, it wraps around him, so crushingly tight, it was like Ao Lie was afraid to let go. The latter buries his face in his chest and he could hear mumbled words of reassurance. “It’s fine. Wukong, It’s fine. Don’t cry..”
Don’t cry?
Was.. he crying?
He feels tears trailing down his cheeks, and his eyes turning sore and irritable. The beginning of a sob, tearing its way out.
He knows what comes next. What lies or ‘facts’ or words come out of his mouth. What Ao Lie thinks and believes.
“Wukong, It's not your fault.” Stop lying. Why won’t he stop lying? There is no reason for him to lie. It’s his fault. He was stupid. A stupid, stupid monkey. He should have focused on the ritual, done better, anything that wasn’t what he already did! This was his fault, all his fault–
“I chose to protect Master.” He didn’t have to! Ao Lie shouldn’t have too! Wukong should have been better, something stronger, something reliable. He should have never let it get away, then it wouldn’t have to come down to this. Why won’t he understand! Ao Lie shouldn’t have to get hurt because of his mistake. This was all his fault. All of it–!
“Please, forgive yourself..”
Wukong sobs, pleading to anyone listening to make this stop. (He can’t do that–)
“I already have.”
Ao Lie should have not.
- - -
When Mk and the others reach the battle, it was nothing but a mess of golden light and frigid ice. Each punch, sigil, tear, and dodge sends a burst of power to the surroundings. With how far they were from the actual fight, it was nothing short of powerful to be feeling the after effects of each attack. Mei almost melts at the heat that accompanied the flash of gold light. In the corner of his eye, he sees Macaque shiver at the sudden freezing cold.
“Monkey King!” He shouts, already preparing to rush forward and help his mentor. He worries, he can’t see what’s happening, but he cannot take any chances. He knows that he would have been fine any other day, but he is severely injured and in not the best condition. Mk knows that Wukong won’t be able to beat her. At least not without anyone getting severely hurt.
“Wait!” Mk is stopped by Ne Zha, a serious expression on his face. “While The Demon is busy, we
need
to get your staff. He seems to have her on the defensive, we need to take advantage of this.”
“Ne Zha, my
brother
is fighting the strongest thing that ever fought us so far,
while injured
. I am not letting him fight her alone.” He sends the Celestial a glare, the silent threat being understood by everyone at the site. The use of the word ‘brother’ did not go unnoticed. Ne Zha was wise enough not to comment on it. Instead, “I understand.” He says, “But it would be best if you grab your staff first before we fight her. We need all the power we can get.”
Ne Zha takes a breath, hesitating for a single moment.
“Especially if Wukong loses control of the fire.”
The admission rang through the desolate land. The single fact that everyone else has been trying to ignore. The one reason they are still hesitant to get near the monkey, at the very least while he is awake. Just as Mk was about to retort with something cheesy or sappy, Mei butted in. “Look monkey man, I don't like staying out of the way too. But I think he's right.”
“Mei is right.” Pigsy says, “Why don't you hurry up and get the staff then we can get this over with.”
“Then we can have tea!” Sandy pipes up, “And not have to worry about this anymore.”
The river demon’s thought is cut short as the ground quakes beneath them. A crater has embedded itself into the ground, the cold growing harsher the nearer one is to it. Pigsy looks at it, a bit confused. “Oi, Ain’t that the.. Not Mayor?” The thrall’s eyes glow a bright blue as it stares ahead at the sky. Shadows wrap around the Not Mayor’s unconscious form.
They only had minutes to process the sudden change in atmosphere, when the body wrapped in inky shadows grows slack. The chilling power of the dead bursting from him and heading straight into the sky. All while a shrill scream rang through the air.
Not of a girl- No, it was of a Monkey, burning far too hot and far too bright.