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A New Myth: The Monkey, the Dragon, and the Idiot

🇨🇦Gwyrtheryn
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Synopsis
The fires of the Great War left scars that time could never heal. Even the invincible, Victorious Fighting Buddha - The Great Sage Equal To Heaven, could only endure so much. Alone, betrayed, and sealed away; Sun Wukong, the Prisoner of the Golden Headband, was always destined to fail. The destruction of his home, his people, his very life’s work - set in stone by the workings of fate. But what if; defying the gods, the heavens, and fate itself – a coincidence, upon a coincidence, upon a coincidence – a chance to break free, and walk his own path, free of the strings of fate; a continuation to his story, and the beginning of a new one. Disclaimer: I do not have any claims over the game "Black Myth Wukong", or the series "Highschool DXD". All characters belong to their respective franchises.
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Chapter 1 - Prologue

Hey guys!

Guess who's back to their absolutely no good, maybe bad, kind've terrible fanfic writing?

THIS GAL! UMU

I...

AM FINALLY FREE FROM UNIVERSITY!!! TwT

FOR A FULL WEEK!!!

HALLELUJAH!!!!!!!! 

I finally have time to go back to my writing shenanigans~

...

You know, this idea just came out of nowhere.

No, literally.

I was sitting in the middle of a very important test, and then this random thought just came out of my head.

It's like I gave birth. To a new baby. That's a thought. From my daydream. In the middle of a test. WHICH I FUCKING FAILED!!!! T-T

I'm actually going to kms ong ToT.

...

So, anyways, ignoring the fact that I FAILED MY TEST (I will be ranting about this for a while, sorry)

I have always been a fan of Journey To The West, so when Black Myth came out, I was over the fucking roof.

The game was so fun, SO GOOD, that I decided to grind every single side quest to get the best ending. And let me tell you guys, it took HOURS upon HOURS upon HOURS of grinding.

It took a bit too long, but everything for the grind, right?...

Right?...

*Insert mandatory cricket noises*

...

Hm. Y'all are no fun.

Anyways, thanks to anyone who actually decides to read this story and note, don't know if I'll expand on this idea, but it seemed decent when I wrote it, so here you all go.

...

Oh! Also, before moving on, I'll just say something about my other story, 'Counter Guardian in DXD': I don't know where I'll go with that story, so the wait for the next chapter may last up to a few more weeks.

Sorry, but I've not had any good motivation or inspiration ever since I fucking BOMBED MY TEST!!! T-T

...

Now, onto this brand new, totally never done before, BESTEST "BLACK" (ehe) Myth Wukon x Highscool DXD story!

Welp! Anyways, enjoy the story, losers.

...

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Disclaimer: I do not have any claims over the game "Black Myth Wukong", or the series "Highschool DXD". All characters belong to their respective franchises.

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Legends tell of a Monkey. A Monkey above all others; that is to say, he was their King, and they, his people. A leader, a hero, and a king, all in one.

The Legend of Sun Wukong

Long ago, in a place where the earth meets the sky, a rock bathed by the first rays of dawn cracked open, and from it sprang a monkey—wild, fierce, and full of life. He was no ordinary monkey, but one touched by something greater. His name was Sun Wukong, and from the moment he was born, he was destined for greatness. 

In the mountains by the Eastern Sea, where flowers bloomed and fruit hung from every tree, he became king of his tribe. He led his people with strength, wit, and a heart full of daring. But even as the King of the Monkeys, Wukong felt a restless fire burning inside him—a hunger for something more than just ruling over a mountain. He sought immortality. He wanted to know the secrets of the universe and stand among the gods themselves.

So, he traveled far and wide, studying under wise immortals, learning powerful secrets, and mastering the art of transformation. He became more than any creature before him—stronger, faster, and capable of changing his shape with the flick of a thought. He could fly on clouds, turn into a thousand forms, and call upon the power of the elements themselves. But none of this was enough.

One day, he discovered a way to become immortal, and so he did. He drank the elixir of eternal life and performed the ancient rites. He was no longer bound by the limits of mortal flesh. But with this newfound power came a dangerous pride. Wukong believed he could stand side by side with the gods, that he was no lesser being than the rulers of the heavens themselves.

It was then that he made his fateful decision. He stormed the gates of Heaven, demanding a place at the celestial banquet, a seat among the divine. The gods, amused at first, offered him a lowly position—a keeper of horses. It was meant as an insult, but Wukong was not one to be mocked. Enraged, he waged war against Heaven itself, tearing through the gates, battling gods, and defying the very order of the universe. He declared himself the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, a title that would forever echo in the heavens and earth.

But even the mighty Sun Wukong was no match for the ancient forces of the divine. The gods, unable to defeat him by strength alone, called upon the Buddha, the one being whose wisdom and power surpassed all. The Buddha, in his infinite calm, trapped the Monkey King beneath a mountain, sealing him there for five hundred years.

Those five hundred years passed, and Wukong remained trapped, his pride humbled. But then, a monk named Xuanzang appeared. He was on a journey to retrieve sacred scriptures from the Western lands, and he needed protection. By fate—or perhaps the will of the heavens—it was Wukong who was chosen to guard him. With his release from the mountain, Wukong was bound by an oath to serve this humble monk on his perilous journey.

Thus began a new chapter in the Monkey King's life. No longer the rebellious, prideful king, Wukong would learn the value of humility, patience, and loyalty. But his journey would not be easy. He would face demons, temptations, and trials, and through them, he would come to understand that true greatness was not in rebellion, but in service.

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"Nothing in this world is difficult, but thinking makes it seem so. Where there is true will, there is always a way."

Wu Cheng-en (Monkey - Ancient Chinese Folk Novel)

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Prologue: The Final Stand of the Victorious Fighting Buddha

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Why?...

Flower Fruit Mountain Burned

The sacred peaks of Flower Fruit Mountain, once a place of vibrant life, now lay still beneath the oppressive weight of flame and smoke. The gentle winds that used to carry the scent of blooming flowers were now tainted by the stench of burning trees and charred earth. Silence hung heavily in the air, broken only by the crackling of distant fires and the occasional moan of something dying. What had once been a realm of joy, where monkeys played in the shade of ancient trees and the streams sparkled like liquid gems, was now reduced to a smoldering ruin—a testament to the brutal wrath of the gods.

The rain fell, the world itself weeping, shedding tears for the tragedy.

Sun Wukong stood at the center of the devastation, taking heavy breaths, his golden fur now darkened by soot and streaked with the blood of gods and demons alike. His eyes were shadowed, his shoulders rising with every breath, steam emanating from his body as the rain poured from the heavens. His stance was as unyielding as the earth beneath his feet, though every inch of his body screamed with exhaustion. His Ruyi Jingu Bang, the indestructible staff, was clutched tightly in his hand, its gleaming surface dulled by the gore of battle. Even now, as the blood of the fallen stained the ground around him, his resolve did not falter. He was alone, but that was nothing new.

It had begun as a skirmish. A petty dispute, a challenge to the heavens that had grown into something far more destructive. A betrayal, orchestrated by the very beings Wukong had once called allies, had shattered the peace of his paradise. Flower Fruit Mountain—the home of his people, his kingdom—had been razed. The cries of the innocent had echoed into the heavens, but no divine hand had reached down to stop it.

His kin, the loyal monkeys who had revered him as a god, lay scattered around him. Some were torn apart by divine weapons, others were crushed beneath the wreckage of their once-proud homes. A child no older than a handful of seasons lay near his feet, her small body obscured by the rubble. His heart wrenched at the sight, but Wukong did not allow himself to feel it—not yet. The fight was far from over.

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Wukong stood alone, eyes blazing like twin suns, as the celestial armies descended. His golden form was like a spark of defiance in the center of a storm, his Ruyi Jingu Bang gleaming fiercely in his grip. The air crackled with divine energy as his enemies drew closer. He could feel their presence. They were coming for him, but the monkey king would not bow—not now, not ever.

He sighed lightly spinning his staff til it rested on his shoulder, and began to slowly walk around in thought.

"My master… safe. The scriptures… sound." He mused, pacing slowly, golden eyes watching, waiting. "All I ever wanted was a life on my mountain; free from your so-called… merits."

He turned his head to the skies, his back turned towards the approaching armies. "Those high above don't trust me… I understand that. And they send you, and those… knuckleheads, to threaten me to obey and serve once more… Hmm, I understand that too." A flash of lightning struck across the horizon, and four massive beings appeared in the distance; the Four Celestial Kings, heralding at the imminent arrival of the gods.

"But what I don't understand…" He turned, finally facing the gods, and his eyes burned with golden fire. He pointed his staff forward in growing anger. "Is you bastards killing my kind!"

The gods had come with the fury of a storm. First, it was the fluttering of wings—thousands of them. The celestial armies of the Jade Emperor filled the skies, a blanket of divine warriors descending like locusts upon the mountain, blocking out the sun and casting shadows long and cold over the once-verdant landscape. The wind had picked up, howling through the broken trees as the armies of the heavens swept in.

The gods did not come in a rush—they came with purpose. Their war-drums echoed through the heavens, shaking the very fabric of the world with their thundering beat. Each divine step felt like the stamping of a mountain collapsing, and as the armies spread across the valley, the ground beneath Wukong's feet trembled. Their armies filled the skies like an ocean, vast and terrifying, blocking out the sun.

Wukong could feel them before he saw them. A thousand gods marched with the arrogance of heaven itself. His golden eyes narrowed, calculating. There's no stopping them now, is there?

Zeus, the King of the Olympians, led the charge. His massive form descended from the clouds, the very air crackling with the power of a storm. His mighty thunderbolt, a weapon capable of tearing the heavens asunder, was held high in his hand, and as he landed with the weight of a thousand mountains, the ground beneath him cracked like a fragile stone. His golden armor glimmered with the intensity of the sun itself, and his presence was as overwhelming as the thunder he wielded. His soldiers, clad in gleaming armor, spread out beneath him like a swarm of locusts.

"A fitting entrance for a so-called king," Wukong laughed in scorn, his staff spinning in his hands. "Is that how you show up to a fight? Flashing your bolts like a drunk peacock?"

Zeus' nostrils flared, and lightning flashed behind him as his eyes grew enraged.

Indra, the Lord of the Hindu Heavens, was next. The god of storms and war appeared in a flash of divine light, riding in his majestic chariot drawn by a thousand storm clouds. His mighty Vajra gleamed like the sun's fury, ready to strike down anything in its path. The air grew dense with the pressure of his approach. Behind him, the celestial army of the Devas, wielding weapons that could strike down mountains, followed like a black tide, clad in shining armor, wielding weapons of pure celestial might. Indra's gaze, cold and unyielding, scanned the battlefield below. "Sun Wukong," he called, his voice booming like the roar of a storm. "You stand against the will of the gods themselves. For this, you will fall."

Wukong stood tall, unmoving, his golden eyes narrowed with contempt. "Fall, you say?" He scoffed, his voice in mockery. "I've fallen thousands of times, and each time I've risen back up. What makes you believe this will be any different?"

From the heavens above, Erlang Shen, the Jade Emperor's right hand and protector of the divine realm, the heavenly general. Erlang's eyes burned with divine fire, his three-pointed spear gleaming as it was lifted in battle. His forceful gait echoed across the mountain as he approached, a cold and calculating god who believed in the inevitability of victory. The sky seemed to bend around him as if he himself had been carved from the heavens themselves. His three-pointed spear gleamed with celestial fire, and his stern gaze was as sharp as the weapon he wielded. Behind him, his divine army of heavenly generals and warriors marched in unison, their footsteps a thunderous drumbeat in the air.

Wukong's lips curled into a grin. "Ah, Erlang Shen, the Jade Emperor's finest. You've come for me, have you? What's the matter? Did your master grow tired of the chase?" He twirled his staff casually, his tone mocking.

Erlang's expression remained cold, his eyes burning with divine fury. "This ends now, Wukong."

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"Sun Wukong," Erlang Shen called, stepping forward with his three-pointed, double-edged spear in hand. His celestial hound growled at his side. "This is the end. Your defiance ends here. You have brought chaos to the heavens, betrayed their harmony, and spat in the face of the Jade Emperor's mercy. You will kneel, or you will perish."

Wukong laughed, a sound sharp and bitter. "Kneel? A dog telling a monkey to kneel—oh, the irony! Tell me, Erlang, does Heaven's leash choke as much as its lies?"

Wukong straightened, dragging the Ruyi Jingu Bang upright with him. His silhouette stood defiant against the horizon. 

As the first line of gods approached, Wukong gripped his staff tighter. The ground beneath his feet surged with energy as he summoned his might. "Come then, all of you! From the east, the west, the south—it doesn't matter! You've burned my mountain, slaughtered my people, and betrayed me. But you'll find this monkey's spirit isn't so easy to kill."

His gaze swept over the armies. "Those below, those above, and that black mutt of your—do you think I fear you? Come, test your might! I'll meet every blade, every spear, every so-called divine decree!" His voice rang out, unwavering, cutting through the cacophony of the approaching storm. "This will be my retribution; my judgment passed on the gods' sins against my people! Let us see if the heavens have forgotten the power of the Monkey King!"

He spun his staff and slammed the butt end into the ground, the earth below shaking and cracking under his strength. "Let it be known; I, Sun Wukong, the Great Sage and Victorious Fighting Buddha, hereby declare that you, the gods, are all sentenced to death!"

His declaration was met with the sound of the heavens in an outrage; lightning struck the earth, illuminating his form, and the gods descended into battle.

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The first blow came in a rush—a streak of golden lightning as Zeus descended from the heavens with his bolt crackling in his hand. Zeus hurled his thunderbolt with the fury of the storm, a blinding flash of power that tore through the air with a deafening crack. The sky seemed to bend under its power, and the earth below quaked.

"Evanescence!" Wukong's voice rang out, and in the same instant, his body shimmered like a mirage, dissipating into thin air. The thunderbolt struck the ground where he had been standing, sending up a massive plume of dust and rubble, but Wukong was already behind Zeus, his staff swinging in a wide arc.

Zeus barely had time to react. He spun, his eyes narrowing as he saw the Monkey King appear like a shadow behind him. "You cannot hide from Olympus!" he thundered, raising his hand to strike once more.

"Hide?" Wukong chuckled, his staff spinning in his hands with effortless grace. "I'm not hiding, Lightning Crotch. I'm just making you work for it."

He danced around Zeus, his staff twirling like an extension of his body, striking with precision. "Hah!" Each blow was swift, a blur of golden light, and each time Zeus tried to retaliate, Wukong would vanish again in a flash of golden light, leaving nothing but the echo of his laughter in his wake.

Indra surged forward with his Vajra raised high, his voice booming through the storm. "Feel the weight of Indraloka!" With a single motion, he thrust his weapon forward, a massive bolt of divine energy aimed directly at Wukong.

Wukong's grin only widened. "Indraloka? You gods sure do love your lofty names for your little kingdoms. But I'll tell you this—" With a swift motion, Wukong's body bent in an impossible arc, leaping high into the air and dodging the oncoming strike with ease. He landed gracefully behind Indra, and in the blink of an eye, his staff lashed out, striking the god in the back. "Yours is nothing compared to mine."

Indra's armor cracked under the force, and he was sent sprawling across the earth. He roared in fury, rising to his feet as lightning crackled from his body. "You will pay for that, monkey!"

But Wukong was already on the move again. His body shimmered as he invoked Immobilize and the divine aura around him surged with power. Indra's movements stopped, time itself binding him in its grasp. A floating, golden symbol lay in the air in front of the bound god. "What's the matter, Indra? Can't keep up?" Wukong taunted as he swiftly closed the distance, landing a blow on Indra's chest that sent him stumbling back.

Zeus howled in frustration as he summoned another thunderbolt, his body crackling with divine fury. "Enough of this!" He lunged forward with the intent to crush Wukong, his thunderbolt trailing a destructive arc of lightning behind him.

Wukong smirked. "You gods think you can overwhelm me with brute force?" His staff spun in his hands like a blur. "How quaint." With a flick of his wrist, he called upon his divine power and activated Evanescence once more, vanishing in a flash, only to reappear behind Zeus.

Wukong swung his staff, striking Zeus square in the back, sending the King of the Gods crashing into the mountain below with a deafening crash. The earth quaked beneath the impact, and dust filled the air.

Erlang Shen thrust his spear forward, its divine energy flaring with deadly precision. "You will not escape, Wukong!" he bellowed, his three-pointed spear darting toward Wukong's heart with the speed of a striking serpent.

Wukong's grin never faltered. "Escape? I'm not running, Erlang. But you keep trying to catch me. I'd say you're wasting your time."

With a deft motion, Wukong leaped backward, narrowly avoiding the spear's tip. He twisted mid-air, landing lightly on the ground, his staff raised in challenge. "You'll have to do better than that if you want to catch me."

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Wukong sidestepped, his staff whirling in a blur to parry the thrust of Erlang's spear. The impact sent a shockwave through the ground, but the Monkey King barely flinched. The force was nothing compared to the battles he had fought in the past. He caught a glimpse of Erlang's hound circling, its fiery eyes locked on him, but he didn't care. The dog was a nuisance—he would deal with it later.

"You think your spear can stop me?" Wukong's voice rang out, taunting as always, full of the biting humor he was known for. His golden eyes never left Erlang's face as he spun his staff with effortless grace. "The only thing you'll stop is your own patience if you keep at it like this. You might actually hit me if you weren't so stiff!" "

Erlang's eyes narrowed, the intensity of his gaze a stark contrast to Wukong's nonchalant demeanor. The warrior god adjusted his stance, raising his spear higher. "You underestimate the heavens, Wukong. You always have."

Before he could make another move, a crackle of lightning split the air again as Zeus, still reeling from Wukong's earlier strike, rose from the rubble with a growl of rage. His eyes burned with fury. "This ends now," he growled, his voice full of divine wrath.

"Do you always announce the obvious?" Wukong taunted, flicking his staff back and forth like it was a mere toy. He didn't look worried. These gods were powerful, yes, but they were predictable, caught up in their pride.

The wind whipped around them, gathering power as the divine warriors readied themselves. Indra charged forward again, his Vajra crackling with divine energy, the air itself thickening with the pressure of his strike.

Wukong's laughter filled the air, wild and untamed as ever. He wasn't going to let them win—not like this. The Monkey King was no stranger to the weight of gods upon his back. He would not fall today.

With a fierce roar, Wukong spun his staff, summoning the power of his ancient techniques. "Kagebushin!" he called, and in an instant, a dozen copies of him appeared, each one a blur of golden fur and flashing staff. They spread out across the battlefield, each one ready to strike at the gods from a different angle.

"Stop them!" Erlang Shen shouted to his forces, his voice like a whip. "Do not let him deceive you!"

But it was too late. The gods struggled to focus, finding themselves swarmed by Wukong's illusions. Every blow they struck hit nothing but air, and each time they turned, they found themselves facing another Wukong.

"You see, Erlang," the Monkey King's voice echoed from all directions, "you gods have your rules, your plans, your order. And I, Sun Wukong, reject it."

The ground quaked again as the real Wukong appeared behind Zeus, his staff sweeping low, catching the King of the Gods off guard. With a powerful swing, Wukong sent Zeus tumbling once more, the god of justice crashing into a rock formation that shattered on impact.

Wukong's laughter rang across the battlefield like a song, a mocking note in his tone. "Is that the best the heavens can do?" he taunted, his staff twirling lazily in his hands as he surveyed the gods in front of him. "You're all as predictable as a sunrise."

Indra roared in fury, his divine form becoming a blur of storm and thunder as he launched himself forward again. "Enough of this, Wukong! You will pay for your insolence!"

But Wukong was already gone, his body a blur as he vanished once more into thin air.

This time, when he reappeared, he stood at the peak of the mountain, looking down at the gods from the very heights that had once been the pride of his kingdom. He was still laughing, a wild, bitter sound that echoed off the hills and through the heavens themselves.

"Tell me, gods," Wukong called out to them, his voice strong and unwavering, "how does it feel to have your might mocked by a mere monkey?"

The silence that followed was heavy, like the pause before a storm. The gods were coming for him, but Wukong had made his stand.

And he would not be the one losing today.

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But the gods did not hesitate. They came at him again. Indra's Vajra tore through the air, striking Wukong in the side, and Vishnu's chakram spun toward him like a deadly wheel. The force of each divine blow threatened to break him, but he weathered it with the patience of someone who had lived for centuries.

As the gods closed in, Wukong, as much as he tried to hide it, could barely keep up. Every move they made seemed to land true. But he couldn't let them win. Not now. His golden eyes flicked to his fallen kin, their faces frozen in eternal agony. No. He owed them this.

The sky above was filled with divine light as celestial warriors rained down upon him, bringing their weapons to bear. Wukong spun, his staff moving in a blur, knocking back blows and deflecting the onslaught. But the gods were relentless, their numbers far too great for him to handle alone.

The weight of his years pressed on him. His body ached, his movements slower, each strike harder to deliver. Had he truly grown so weak? His golden eyes glanced at the battlefield again—his kin lay scattered, their bodies broken, their blood staining the earth. His people. His kingdom.

But still, he fought. He had sworn to protect them, and even now, nearing the end, he would not surrender.

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Wukong parried Erlang's spear with the Ruyi Jingu Bang, the clash sending a shockwave rippling through the air. Sparks flew as their weapons locked, divine energy colliding with celestial might. Wukong pushed back with a grunt of effort, his muscles coiled like springs. "Chasing me is like trying to hold the wind—futile."

Erlang Shen's eyes burned brighter, the third eye on his forehead glowing ominously. "You speak too much, Monkey King. Perhaps I should silence you permanently."

Wukong's laughter was sharp and biting. "Oh, please, Erlang. The heavens have tried for centuries to shut me up. Do you think you'll succeed now?" With a twist of his staff, he broke the stalemate, spinning away to land a blow on Erlang's shoulder, forcing the god back.

But the onslaught didn't relent. As Erlang staggered, the armies of the heavens surged forward, a tide of divine warriors flooding the battlefield. Wukong spun his staff in a wide arc, the golden weapon growing to an immense size as it swept through the ranks, scattering gods and celestial beasts alike. Each swing of the Ruyi Jingu Bang was accompanied by a defiant roar, a challenge to the heavens themselves.

From the smoke and chaos, Zeus emerged, his armor dented but his fury undiminished. Lightning crackled in his eyes as he raised his thunderbolt once more. "Enough games, Wukong. Your defiance ends here!"

Wukong raised an eyebrow, twirling his staff lazily. "You're like a broken record, Zeus. Always 'this ends here' and yet, here we are."

Zeus hurled his thunderbolt, a spear of pure destruction, but Wukong leapt high into the air, flipping effortlessly over the attack. He landed atop a crumbling tree, his golden eyes scanning the battlefield. The celestial armies pressed closer, their weapons gleaming in the hellish glow of the fires consuming Flower Fruit Mountain.

From the distance, Indra rose again, his body crackling with storms, his chariot pulling him forward with the force of a hurricane. "Monkey King!" he bellowed, his voice echoing like thunder. "This mountain shall be your tomb!"

Wukong's gaze hardened. He planted the Ruyi Jingu Bang in the ground, the weapon shrinking to its standard size. He straightened, his golden eyes blazing as he cracked his knuckles. "A tomb, huh? Funny, I was just about to carve your names on these ruins."

The air around Wukong shimmered as his aura flared. The power of his immortal spirit surged, casting a radiant glow that cut through the gloom. He swung his staff once, twice, the movements fluid and precise. "You all believe that this will be enough to make me stand down!?" he roared, his voice carrying across the battlefield. "Think again! I will never yield, so long as this life of mine still continues to burn!"

The gods hesitated. Even in the face of overwhelming numbers, Wukong's defiance was unshakable, his presence dominating the battlefield like a force of nature. He stood against them, battered but unbroken, a lone figure amidst the carnage, his golden fur catching the light of the fires around him.

Erlang Shen stepped forward once more, his spear raised, his gaze unyielding. "This is your last stand, Wukong. Even you cannot fight forever."

Wukong's grin was feral. "Last stand? Perhaps. But if I'm going down, I'm taking as many of you with me as I can." He raised the Ruyi Jingu Bang, the weapon glowing with power. "Come on, then!" he roared, slamming the butt of his staff into the earth. The resulting tremor shook the battlefield, disrupting the coordinated charge of the celestial armies. "You've burned my mountain, slaughtered my kin, and desecrated my home. I won't forgive it!—not one spark, not one stone, not one life!" His voice rose to a crescendo, echoing across the desolate peaks. "If the heavens think they can crush me, let them try! I am Sun Wukong, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, and I will not kneel!"

As if in response to his defiance, the heavens themselves seemed to rage. Lightning streaked across the sky, the thunder roaring like a furious beast. Zeus, battered but far from beaten, rose from the rubble, his eyes alight with divine fury. "Enough of your arrogance, monkey!" he bellowed, raising his thunderbolt high. "You think yourself equal to the gods, but you are nothing more than a pest to be swatted!"

"And yet, here you are," Wukong shot back, spinning his staff and taking a step forward. "Gods of thunder, war, and justice, all scrambling to put down a single monkey. If I'm so insignificant, what does that make you?"

Zeus charged with a deafening roar, his thunderbolt arcing downward like the wrath of the heavens themselves. Wukong met him head-on, his staff catching the divine weapon mid-strike. The impact unleashed a shockwave of power, flattening the surrounding landscape and extinguishing the lingering fires.

The two clashed with ferocity, their blows shaking the mountain to its core. Sparks flew as staff met thunderbolt, and the air around them became a maelstrom of energy. Wukong's laughter echoed through the chaos, infuriating Zeus further. "Is that all you've got, Thunder Crotch?" he taunted, ducking under a wild swing and countering with a swift strike to Zeus's ribs.

Meanwhile, Indra rallied his forces, his voice cutting through the din. "Surround him! Do not let him escape!" The Devas advanced in perfect formation, their divine weapons gleaming like a sea of stars. Behind them, Erlang Shen coordinated the Jade Emperor's heavenly legions, his third eye blazing with power as he sought to predict Wukong's every move.

But the Monkey King was relentless. He darted between the gods and their armies like a phantom, his golden staff spinning faster than the eye could follow. Each strike was precise, each movement calculated to sow chaos among his enemies. One moment, he was striking down a divine general with a single blow; the next, he was vaulting over a volley of arrows, landing with cat-like grace atop a shattered tree.

The celestial armies pressed harder, their numbers overwhelming. Yet Wukong fought on, a whirlwind of defiance against the tide of divine power. His fur was matted with sweat and blood, and his breath came in ragged gasps, but his golden eyes burned brighter than ever

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He summoned his ki once more—golden light pulsing around him, more fierce and brighter than the sun itself. His staff blurred through the air, striking down the divine legions one after another. The ground shook beneath their feet as the battle raged on. Each swing of the Ruyi Jingu Bang brought divine forces to their knees. But for every one that fell, two more rose to take its place.

Wukong's senses were stretched to their limit, the pain in his body becoming unbearable. His breath was shallow, his muscles on fire, but still, he refused to let his enemies advance. His mind was a storm of thoughts: 'I will not die here. I cannot.' 

He raised his staff high and charged forward, his golden form flashing like a comet through the celestial forces. The gods recoiled, but it was too late—Wukong had already struck, his staff smashing through their ranks. The force of his blows sent shockwaves that knocked celestial warriors aside. The Monkey King's wrath was unstoppable.

But the gods pressed on, and Wukong felt himself begin to falter. He was no longer the same. The monkey who had once defied the heavens, who had laughed in the face of the gods, was fading. 

This is the price of defiance.

And yet, the fight continued.

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His breathing was labored, each breath feeling like an eternity. His body felt heavier, his strikes slower, but still he pushed forward. His mind flickered back to the ancient days when he had first tasted the power of the gods. The same gods who now sought to bring him to his knees.

Still, he stood. Still, he fought.

But even Wukong, immortal many times over, could not hold back the endless tide forever. His movements grew slower, each strike of the Ruyi Jingu Bang more labored than the last. Blood pooled at his feet, staining the earth crimson.

(And, as the world slowed, his enemies growing ever closer…)

The tide of battle slowed for a heartbeat, and in that stillness, Wukong saw them. His heart clenched as memories surged unbidden—his comrades, those he had once called brothers and sisters in arms.

Bajie, the gluttonous but fiercely loyal swine. Sha Wujing, the quiet yet dependable river spirit. And Xuanzang, the monk who had bound Wukong's hands but freed his heart. Together, they had braved gods, demons, and their own doubts to journey westward. They had shared victories, laughter, and trust.

But those bonds were dust now, shattered by betrayal.

Bajie had been the first. His insatiable greed had made him an easy mark for the gods' promises of luxury and power. He had turned against his sworn family, his mighty rake stained with the blood of Wukong's kin. Wujing followed, silent as always, but his spear found its mark in the backs of those who had called him brother. And Xuanzang... Xuanzang, the one who had spoken of redemption, had stood at the head of the Celestial Army as they stormed Flower Fruit Mountain. He had promised enlightenment but delivered only ruin.

Betrayal, the word whispered in his mind, echoing with the weight of centuries. From those who should have been your kin. His grip on the Ruyi Jingu Bang tightened. "It doesn't matter. I will make them regret it."

Wukong's grip tightened on his staff, silencing the voice. The time for such thoughts had long passed. His people, his family—the monkeys of Flower Fruit Mountain—had already paid the price for his foolish trust. The peach gardens were razed. The laughter of his kin - forever silenced. His mountain, once a haven, now lay barren and scarred.

And still, he stood.

With a savage roar, Wukong hurled himself into the fray once more, his golden form a blur of fury and defiance. His heart burned with rage, but it was the fire of a warrior who knew the cost of this fight. This would not be the end.

He lifted his gaze to the heavens, and he smiled, all teeth, wide and proud. Blood streaked his fur, and his armor was cracked, but his spirit remained unbroken. The armies of gods and demons advanced once more, a relentless tide seeking to drown him. Yet Wukong's voice rang out, raw and defiant.

"You think betrayal will break me? That your numbers will crush me? I am Sun Wukong! The Great Sage Equal to Heaven! If this is the end, then I shall make it a tale worthy of the heavens and the earth!"

He surged forward again, his staff a blur of golden destruction.

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The air itself seemed to burn, heavy with smoke and the acrid tang of blood, as the horizon writhed with the colors of war—smoldering orange, wrathful red, and searing white. Against this hellish tableau stood Sun Wukong, the Monkey King, his figure a stubborn defiance against the inevitable.

Blood trickled from countless wounds carved across his body, painting his fur in crimson streaks. His golden armor was shattered, fragments glinting like fallen stars amidst the ashen dirt. Yet he stood tall—or as tall as his trembling frame allowed—his unyielding grip on the Ruyi Jingu Bang serving as both crutch and weapon. The staff's once-pristine surface was chipped and scorched, yet still radiated an aura of power as indomitable as its master's spirit.

Wukong's chest heaved with labored breaths, each one a rasping gasp that betrayed the limits of even his god-like endurance. His shoulders slumped, and his back bent ever so slightly, but his fiery eyes remained sharp and alive, boring into the ranks of the gods and their armies that swarmed before him. A legion of celestial soldiers stretched to the horizon, their ranks shimmering with divine light that clashed violently with the hellish glow of the battlefield.

Towering above the masses, the Four Celestial Kings stood like immovable mountains, their colossal forms casting long shadows that stretched across the broken earth. Their weapons gleamed with the energy of the heavens, each poised to strike down the rebel who dared to defy their divine order. And above them, like vengeful stars suspended in the heavens, floated the gods who led the assault:

Erlang Shen, his third eye blazing with cruel, unrelenting power, his spear alight with celestial flames.

Zeus, his mighty form crackling with arcs of golden lightning, his gaze thunderous and filled with divine wrath.

Indra, the storm god, surrounded by a swirling tempest of violet energy, his presence a palpable force that shook the very fabric of the world.

The combined weight of their judgment bore down upon the Monkey King, yet he remained steadfast. The ground beneath him cracked and groaned from the sheer force of their power, but Wukong stood, the unshakable mountain against an unending tide.

The flames behind him licked at the sky, forming a crown of fire that silhouetted his battered form. Each flicker of the inferno seemed to mirror the tempest raging within him—a stubborn, undying will that refused to bow, refused to kneel. His teeth bared in a savage grin, blood-streaked and defiant, Wukong raised his head and spat onto the scorched earth.

"Do you really this is enough to stop me? Do you believe I fear death!?" His voice, ragged yet dripping with contempt, cut through the din like the peal of a bell. "Come on, then! Is this the strength of the heavens? Of the so-called god-kings?"

The staff in Wukong's hands trembled, his grip creating the tiniest, unnoticeable crack in its indestructible form. He leaned forward, his grin widening into a feral snarl, and slammed the Ruyi Jingu Bang into the earth. The shockwave split the ground beneath him, sending a spray of molten rock and ash into the air.

"Come!" Wukong roared, his voice a clarion call of rebellion that surged through the battlefield. 

The gods closed in from all sides. Wukong's heart pounded in his chest, but his resolve remained. He would fight until the end.

The battle waged on for what felt like hours, Wukong holding his ground with a strength born of desperation. The gods began to fall back, overwhelmed by his unyielding rage and strength, but, even in their distance, they continued their united assault on the still-standing monkey king. 

And at last, after many more hours had passed; when all that remained of Wukong's strength had been spent, Erlang Shen stepped forward. His three-pointed spear gleamed in the dimming light. He stood as a symbol of the heavens' cold, calculating resolve.

"You've fought well, Wukong," Erlang Shen's voice rang out, his tone cold and dispassionate. "But this is where your journey ends."

The spear flew through the air, its point aimed straight for Wukong's heart. The Monkey King could not move fast enough. His staff barely managed to block the blow, but the force of it shattered his grip, sending the Ruyi Jingu Bang flying from his hands.

Wukong stood, bloodied and battered, his body breaking under the weight of the gods' assault, his back bent over as he heaved, head still staring up in defiance. 

Grunting, he pushed himself back up, his staff flying to his hand, and he stood tall, his gaze unwavering as the gods surrounded him.

"I will not fall. Not here. Not now."

But deep down, Wukong knew. This battle had taken everything. His kingdom was lost. His people were gone. And no matter how hard he fought, the end was inevitable.

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The world was shifting, the heavens' power surrounding him.

A spear pierced through the chest of the proud warrior, and suddenly, everything was silent.

Wukong's vision blurred, and for a fleeting moment, he thought he saw his home again—the trees of Flower Fruit Mountain in full bloom, the monkeys playing in the light of the setting sun. But as quickly as it had come, the vision faded, and his consciousness began to fade.

The gods, their armies, and the earth bathed in the tears of the skies, and their cheers and celebrations were but dull ringings in his ears.

Unbeknownst to all, a sole drop fell from the shadowed face of Erlang, his cold, emotionless eyes never leaving his brother's face. However, if one looked close enough... regret lingered, buried behind the weight of his duty.

"This is the end of your story, Wukong… Farewell, brother."

Blood rushed from his throat, and…

'Ah… so—*kugh*—... this… is…'

The spear was pulled out from his chest, and the blood of the Victorious Fighting Buddha spattered across the ground, and flowed freely from the gaping hole in his chest…

And a Golden Headband shined brighter as it tightened itself around his head.

Why…

As his body fell back, impacting the ground, staring at the arrogant gods floating high in the sky, it seemed that this was truly the end.

And as Sun Wukong breathed his last, the rain falling freely upon his body; a small, sad tear escaped glassy eyes, as he stared into the aimless, grey clouds above.

His mouth opened for the last time, and…

"I…

will…

return…

And the Heavens will burn for its transgressions."

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The legend of Sun Wukong is one of rise and fall, of a king whose pride led him to challenge the very heavens. His story is a testament to the price of defiance against the gods—a price paid in rebellion and exile, but also in the lessons of humility and redemption. For all his power, the Monkey King learned that no being, not even one so mighty, could escape the forces that govern the world. 

Yet the story of Sun Wukong was far from over.

In fact, one could say…

That it has only just begun.

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A New Myth: The Monkey, the Dragon, and the Idiot – Prologue End

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...

Sooooo, what did y'all think?

Smash or Pass?

Now, hear me out, but me personally...

...

*Ahem* 

Anyways, thank y'all for reading, and hopefully, if I don't bomb another fucking test, I'll see you all in the next chapter!

Later, losers UMU