The Jade Emperor’s latest celestial banquet had been, in Wukong’s esteed opinion, unbearably stuffy. So he’d stolen a jar of immortal wine, commandeered his personal cloud, and drifted far away from the heavenly bureaucracy, whistling a tuneless little lody as he stared at the endless blue sky.
What next? he thought, idly scratching his furry ear. Maybe I’ll go tease that old dragon in the Eastern Sea again. Or perhaps find a few hundred-year-old peach to munch on. Decisions, decisions...
His train of thought was abruptly derailed by a sound like tearing silk. A few hundred feet in front of his cloud, the very fabric of the sky rippled. Then it split, a jagged wound of shimring, bloody red light.
Wukong sat up, his tail giving a curious flick. "Oho? What’s this now?" He hadn’t caused this particular bit of mischief. Yet.
The portal stabilized, pulsing like an infected heart. The air around it grew heavy and hot, carrying a scent Wukong hadn’t slled in a long ti—sulfur, ash, and the coppery tang of spilled blood.
A figure stepped through.
He was tall and built like a fortress, his skin the color of raw, freshly flayed at. A pair of massive, backward-curving horns sprouted from his brow, and his eyes glowed with the sa dull red as the portal. He was clad in black, barbed armor that seed to drink the light. He took a deep, rattling breath of the clean air, as if it disgusted him.
Another one followed. And another. Soon, a full dozen of the red-skinned demons stood hovering in the air, their collective presence casting a palpable shadow. The lead demon scanned the horizon, his gaze passing over mountains and rivers with a look of utter contempt before finally landing on the monkey, who was still lounging on his cloud.
"You," the lead demon’s voice was a gravelly grind, like rocks being pulverized deep underground. "This realm. What is it called?"
Wukong leaned back on his elbows, making a show of getting comfortable. "Well, well. Company. And you didn’t even bring a housewarming gift. Rude." He grinned, all sharp teeth. "This here’s the realm of the Jade Emperor, my turf. And who might you be, all dressed up in your spiky pajamas?"
The demon’s lip curled, revealing fangs dripping with sothing dark. "I am Gorath, First Captain of the Seventh Legion of Hell. This realm is now under the jurisdiction of Lord phisto. You will submit."
Wukong burst out laughing, a loud, cackling sound that echoed in the open sky. "Submit? To you? You look like a overcooked lobster! And who’s this ’phisto’? Sounds like a bad stage na for a second-rate opera singer."
Gorath’s hand went to the hilt of a brutal-looking cleaver sheathed at his hip. "Your defiance is noted. Your destruction will serve as a suitable announcent of our arrival."
"Ah, always with the destroying," Wukong sighed, as if dealing with a particularly dull child. "Can’t we just talk? Share a drink? I’ve got this lovely wine I... acquired." He patted the jar beside him.
The demon captain was not amused. He drew his cleaver, the tal screeching. "Take him. Tear him apart."
Two of the lesser demons surged forward, claws extended, maws gaping.
Wukong didn’t even stand up.
As the first demon lunged, Wukong simply plucked a single hair from his arm, blew on it, and whispered, "Change."
In a puff of smoke, the hair transford into a perfect, shimring replica of the Ruyi Jingu Bang, his legendary staff. The replica staff shot forward like a divine javelin, impaling the first demon through the chest with such force it exploded into a shower of black ash and fading embers.
The second demon skidded to a halt, its eyes wide.
Wukong snapped his fingers. The replica staff vanished. "See? ssy. And now I’ve got demon soot on my cloud." He frowned, brushing at the spotless nimbus beneath him.
Gorath roared in fury. "He is a sorcerer! All of you! Attack together!"
The remaining ten demons converged at once, a wave of red skin, sharpened steel, and hellfire.
Finally, Wukong stood. He stretched, yawned, and then reached behind his ear. From its tiny resting place, he pulled his actual staff. With a flick of his wrist, it expanded to its full, monstrous size, gleaming with golden power.
"Alright, you ugly lot," he said, his playful tone gone, replaced by a sharp, dangerous edge. "You’re ruining my afternoon."
He beca a golden whirlwind.
He didn’t so much fight them as dismantle them. The Jingu Bang was a blur, a solid wall of divine power. It shattered demonic blades, broke horns, and sent armored bodies flying like discarded toys. He moved with impossible speed, ducking under swipes, leaning back from blasts of hellfire, and always, always countering with a crack of his staff that sent a demon reeling.
One demon tried to sneak up behind him. Without even looking, Wukong extended the staff backwards, punching the demon clean through a distant mountain peak.
He wasn’t even breathing hard. This was a nuisance, not a battle.
Gorath watched, his initial rage cooling into a sliver of cold, tactical fear. This was no re celestial guard. This was sothing else entirely.
Within seconds, it was over. The sky was clear again, save for the fading motes of demonic essence drifting on the wind. Only Gorath remained, hovering before the still-pulsing portal.
Wukong landed lightly on his cloud, which floated casually over to the demon captain. He rested his massive staff on his shoulder.
"Now," Wukong said, his voice cheerful again. "Let’s try this again. You’re from Hell, you said? Which one? There’s a few, you know. And this phisto fella... he sent you here to do what, exactly? Besides annoy ."
Gorath gripped his cleaver, his knuckles white. He was a warrior of Hell, a conqueror of realms. But facing this... this monkey... felt like facing a force of nature.
"This is just the beginning," Gorath snarled, backing toward the portal. "The gates are open. Our legions are infinite. Your world will burn."
"Blah, blah, blah," Wukong waved a dismissive hand. "Everyone’s always got ’infinite legions’. It’s never true." His eyes narrowed, and for a mont, the full, terrifying weight of his divine power pressed down on the demon. "Run along now. Go tell your boss that the Handso Monkey King, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, says ’hello’. And that he’s very protective of his turf."
Gorath didn’t need to be told twice. He turned and flung himself back into the red portal, which snapped shut behind him with a sound like a final, choked gasp.
The sky was quiet once more.
Wukong stood on his cloud, the grin slowly fading from his face. He looked at the spot where the portal had been, his brow furrowed in thought.
"Well, now," he murmured to himself, tapping his chin with the tip of his staff. "That’s a new one. Demons from a Hell I don’t know. This could be fun."
A wide, mischievous smile spread across his face again. Teasing the dragon would have to wait. This was much, much more interesting.
He summoned a gust of wind, and his cloud shot forward, heading not for the heavens, but for the mortal realm below. He had so investigating to do. And probably, a lot of demons to hit.
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