The Jingu Bang.

Once a weapon that instilled fear in the hearts of many, was one of the two legendary arms wielded by the mighty Monkey King. The story of how those who once quaked at its name came to forget their terror is a narrative for another time. Yet, in the grand scheme of things, it hardly mattered. For those who had allowed that fear to fade would find it surging back with a vengeance upon witnessing a massive pole emerging from the depths of Gaia, as if it were a tribute to the return of its long-absent master.

There was no sun -as it’d been destroyed by Akuma for whatever reason- but as long as Gaia’s soul remained, it could produce its own light, allowing everyone to bear witness to his grand entrance.

As he stepped out from the rift in space conjured by Akuma, the air crackled with energy, and the very fabric of reality seemed to shimmer around him. He landed gracefully on the golden pedestal that had emerged from the ocean's depths. The pedestal, adorned with intricate carvings of ancient symbols and mythical creatures, rose majestically from the waves, a beacon of power and purpose amidst the vast expanse of the sea.

His lower armor, a striking blend of red and gold, hugged his legs with a fluidity that suggested both elegance and ferocity. The fabric, woven with threads that shimmered like molten metal, caught the light with every movement, creating a mesmerizing display that spoke of both artistry and battle readiness. Though it was perhaps a stretch to label it "armor," as it was primarily made of fabric rather than metal, the ensemble exuded an aura of strength and authority. His torso remained bare, a canvas of fur and scars that told stories of countless battles fought and won, each mark a testament to his resilience and prowess.

His black hair, streaked with dark red, fluttered in the brisk wind, each strand dancing like flames in the breeze. It framed his face, sharp and defined, with eyes that glinted like polished obsidian, reflecting the weight of the legacy he carried. He was a warrior, a traveler of realms, and the air around him thrummed with the echoes of his past victories and the promise of future confrontations.

"It's been a while, my old friend…" he spoke, his voice resonating with a deep, melodic timbre that seemed to harmonize with the very essence of the pedestal beneath him. "…I trust you've been well." The words were directed at the staff, an ancient artifact he’d befriend during his travels through the spirit realm, though it was absurd to think that such a massive weapon could respond in any conventional sense. Yet, he felt a connection that most wielders of a "Tamazen" experienced -a bond forged through shared battles and mutual respect, a silent understanding that transcended the boundaries of mere words.

As he surveyed the horizon, his expression hardened, and a flicker of anger ignited within him. "I see some gods have made their way to my world... and that angers me to no ends!" The declaration hung in the air, charged with intensity. The ocean roared in response, waves violently scrambling. The atmosphere was filled with an overwhelming sense of bloodlust, so fierce that even the most valiant warriors found it hard to keep their stomachs steady. The air crackled with tension, a palpable tension that seemed to pulse with the heartbeat of the earth itself. Before them loomed a monstrous entity, a creature audacious enough to challenge the very heavens.

A few perceptive souls, their instincts honed by countless battles and narrow escapes, sensed the looming catastrophe and made a hasty escape from the planet, driven not by intellect but by an instinctual need to survive. They fled into the void, leaving behind the chaos that threatened to consume them.

To be more specific, Apollo, the first of the Olympians, had foreseen this calamity long before it came to pass. His deep connection to the currents of fate allowed him glimpses of the future, and he had seen this storm brewing on the horizon. While the world reeled in disbelief at the return of the mighty Monkey King, a figure of legend and chaos, Apollo, utilizing a potent magic circle, a design etched with ancient runes and imbued with the essence of the stars, he successfully summoned the two Olympians back to their celestial home.

This move, however, left the fate of the "Catastrophes" hanging in the balance, a precarious thread that could snap at any moment. Yet, on that fateful day, luck favored a few among them.

The Olympians and the Catastrophes existed as separate groups, seldom intersecting, their paths rarely crossing. This separation meant that Apollo had no obligation to lend them aid as their struggles were not his concern. However, in an unexpected turn of events, he chose to intervene, his heart swayed by a sense of duty. And so, as he wielded his staff in a different realm, he opened a portal that sent both Dracula and Amon back to the underworld, but curiously, he left Kagutsuchi and Hel to face their own fate. What could this have meant? Just what was he thinking…

With the two remaining deities firmly in his sights, the entity known as the Monkey King was already scheming his next grand feast -a dish that lingered in his memory, the last he had relished before his downfall and the first he would savor upon his return to life.

“Hmm... I can’t seem to summon the strength to create any clones. It must be because of this headband?” He absentmindedly flicked the golden band that encircled his head, a token imposed by the Librarian as a condition for his resurrection. “...No matter.” In an instant, he and his colossal staff vanished, moving with such swiftness that the ocean barely had time to react, slowly filling the hole he left behind.

Before him lay a scene of chaos: a weary zombie, a Nensect, a woman who appeared angelic yet radiated no divine aura, and two unmistakably regal figures. A vein pulsed on his forehead, nearly concealed by his golden band. “You two…” he inquired, striding toward their battered forms. Ao Shi Xia, the Nensect responsible for their injuries, slinked away, as if yielding to a more formidable predator. “…What brings you here?”

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Kagutsuchi, a deity most confident in his intellect, faced a critical decision. Should he attempt to stall and save both himself and Hel, or take the safer route and prioritize his own escape? He could create a portal to the underworld, but to save Hel, he would need to touch her. As the Monkey King advanced, he felt his body tremble on the brink of collapse. Ultimately, he made his choice. He was the proud son of God, one of the first thirteen beings crafted by their creator. Such a lineage demanded principles and pride. Thus, he summoned all his strength, focusing it on a singular purpose…

To run.

Whether he truly needed that level of power to create a mere portal was debatable, but he was not one to take risks. In an instant, he vanished, leaving behind only the lower half of his form and Hel. "Looks like your buddy left you high and dry," Wukong taunted, his voice dripping with disdain for the capricious nature of deities. Gathering her remaining strength, Hel pushed herself up, cursing the figure before her. With her wounds finally mended, the moment had arrived. She activated her Royal Flush and charged at Wukong with all her might. All she required was a mere touch; just a brush against him would spell his doom. In her Royal Flush state, he would have no means to defend himself. Yet, in the face of her overwhelming power, he appeared as uninterested as a man forced to watch paint dry.

Whether or not he needed that much power to create a simple portal was questionable, but such a man took no chances. And with that, he was gone, leaving only the bottom half of his body, as well as Hel.

“Seems your friend has abandoned you.” Said Wukong, his voice mocking how fickle gods can truly be.

She gathered every ounce of strength she had left to rise, her thoughts filled with curses directed at the man standing before her. With her wounds finally mended, the moment had arrived for action. She activated her Royal Flush and surged forward at Wukong with relentless speed, knowing that all it would take was a mere brush for him to meet his end. In this state, he would be powerless to defend himself against her Empower.

Yet, in the face of her overwhelming force, he appeared as uninterested as someone forced to watch paint dry. “WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU AREEEE!!!” Hel shouted as she lunged at him, her palm aimed directly at his chest. To her astonishment, her attack met with nothingness. “H-How can this be?” she stammered, trembling in disbelief. “My power is death itself. If it has a beginning, I can ensure its end. So how…”

The beast stood unfazed, his hands resting casually on his Jingu Bang, which was propped behind his head. With a sigh, he replied:

“I hate to sound cliché, especially since I just came back to life, but that power won’t affect me…” His demeanor shifted from nonchalance to seriousness as he added, “…I’m immortal.”

“N-No. That can’t be.” Hel gasped, retreating in terror.

“Tell you what. I’m starting to feel a bit sorry for you, so I’ll give you a break.” he said, tossing his Jingu Bang in her direction. Initially bewildered, she reflexively caught it, only to find her body crumpling under the weight of the staff, collapsing to the ground like a discarded sheet. Her battered form writhed beneath the immense burden until it eventually transformed into a cluster of starlite. “…Sorry about that.” He chuckled. “She’s a bit of a hugger.”

***

With Achillies’ sudden disappearance, Akuma found himself lost in thought, his gaze fixed on the vast expanse of the sky, leaving everyone to wonder what was going through his mind. Perhaps it was memories of a past life that haunted him, but the truth remained elusive.

For some reason, he’d chosen to destroy the sun, dooming all of humanity.

“Is that really you, Akuma…?” Sanzang asked, her voice a blend of confusion and relief.

Akuma turned slowly, as if deliberately heightening the tension in the air. When his eyes fell upon the trio, a bewildered question escaped his lips. “Who the hell are you?”

Sanzang, caught off guard by the unexpected inquiry, stammered, “What?”

Akuma’s expression shifted rapidly as he tried to piece together his thoughts, his brow furrowing in concentration. “No, wait. You’re Sanzang, right? Or am I mistaken? I’m sure I met you first when I got here… or was it second? Maybe third? Did we even cross paths? Of course we did, you called me Akuma. But… who is Akuma? I’m Hakari. No, that’s not right, I’m Tenshi.” His voice grew frantic, each name tumbling out like a stone rolling down a hill, gathering speed and weight. A wave of panic washed over him, his mind spiraling into chaos as he murmured in distress, “This isn’t right! None of this is right! Who… WHO AM I?!” His anguished shout reverberated through the air, a haunting cry that seemed to resonate with the very fabric of reality itself. The trio exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of concern and bewilderment. They had called out to him seeking answers, but now they were confronted with a man unraveling before their eyes, a tapestry of identities fraying at his edges.

In the depths of his despair, Akuma screamed until he finally crumpled to the ground, his body folding in on itself like a paper crane losing its shape. The sound of his anguish echoed in the silence that followed, leaving the three onlookers in a state of complete shock and confusion.

Sanzang stepped forward, instinctively reaching out a hand, but hesitated, unsure if she could approach him as he was now. “Akuma…” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper, “…W-we’re here to help you. Just… just breathe.”

But Akuma’s breaths came in ragged gasps, each inhale a struggle against the tide of his own disorientation. The other two, Rin and Tenshi, stood frozen, their minds racing to comprehend the unfolding of their friend and brother.

Eventually, he’d finally passed out, likely do to shock.

“Was that truly Akuma?” Rin finally mustered the strength to inquire, her voice tinged with disbelief.

“Without a doubt. I wouldn’t confuse him with anyone else.”

The one who answered that was Tenshi. Of course, the fact that he now remembered Akuma puzzled Sanzang.

“Wait, you remember him now?”

“I recognized him the moment he stepped into the hideout. Actually, I think I remembered him even before that. But it all came flooding back when I saw him… I’m still confused though. Why did he destroy the sun?”

“Hmm… I’m not certain…”