Chapter Text
“Liu’er.”
The Bone Demon’s greeting is deceptively warm. A trick of the mind with her young voice and features overwritten by concern – a frown that pulls at her lips as she tilts her head, causing her perfectly maintained hair to fall over her shoulders. The perfect imitation of a troubled young child.
“Are you feeling well?” she continues. Only the icy glint in her eyes betrays the lie she attempts to smother him with. “You seem troubled.”
The shadows slowly slink away from Macaque’s form after transporting him. Back in the Spider Queen’s cavern, he belatedly notices, unsurprised. Instead, his eyes are for the shadows. They’re sluggish in a way they shouldn’t be, but he’s sure that it’s more than their strange behavior that alerts the Bone Demon to his poor state.
Speaking of, it’s a testament to his addled mind that he feels no irritation for her faux concern.
“Nothing important,” he says, but her suspicion only grows given the narrowing of her eyes. “Nothing that will affect my performance.”
Performance. Ha.
She eyes him for several long seconds before relenting. “Very well.”
Macaque’s shoulders do not sag in relief because he’s already slouching. From a mixture of physical exhaustion with an endless stream of nightmares continuing to plague his already meager sleep, and the mental fatigue that has remained a heavy weight since his spontaneous meeting with MK.
MK…
It’s been days since the sudden reunion, but the conversation on that rooftop runs a continuous loop in Macaque’s head. Over and over, akin to the torture of the Diyu, yet Macaque would choose that agony in a heartbeat rather than suffer through anymore thoughts of his argument with MK. Though to call it an argument seems too soft a word. They’ve argued before about trivial things, but this was something completely different.
Macaque can hardly fathom any of it. His own behavior most of all. It isn’t like him to get so heated, but especially around MK, who doesn’t need to see that side of him he’s long buried. Or had long buried – clearly Macaque isn’t as removed from his past as he’d thought.
That anger… Even now, he isn’t sure where it came from. His usual disdain toward Wukong notwithstanding, the cold vitriol in the accusations he’d hurled at MK had been…
Like I was someone else.
Macaque has no idea how to move past it. His tentative offer of reconciliation has yet to be acted on, but more than that, he and MK haven’t talked since. No phone calls or text messages. A new normal of their lives, yet worsened by the fact that MK knows he’s also in Megapolis. It would be so easy to just walk into the pig demon’s noodle restaurant or order delivery in an effort to see MK again…
He needs time.
Perhaps it’s a coward’s response. Macaque has always preferred dodging confrontation after all. It’s easy to put the effort to reconcile on MK’s shoulders instead given the kid’s good-hearted nature, but more than that, Macaque doesn’t want to push and threaten another similar argument.
It’s the Bone Demon that rouses him from his thoughts, her unassuming tone a contrast to the look in her eyes – still unbelieving and far too amused as if she can read him like a book. “You brought what I asked of you, yes?”
Another reason for worry. Another stone on the pile already threatening to crush him, as if he was metaphorically cursed beneath a mountain like Wukong once physically was.
He nods and pulls his cloak tighter around his form when the Bone Demon’s sharp smile causes the cavern’s temperature to drop.
“Very good,” she says. “We’re progressing incredibly well. If the Spider Queen’s little pets succeed in performing their part, it’s possible that we will have two artifacts in a single day.”
“They’re…?”
She waves a hand, disinterested. “Nothing to concern yourself with, Liu’er. They’ve gone to retrieve the Crimson Flower. It should be simple enough for them.”
The Locked Box. The Demon-Revealing Mirror. Now, the Crimson Flower and…
His tail twitches, and he unconsciously reaches a hand to his hip where the Shadow Lantern rests. Safeguarded away from prying eyes that aren’t his own for centuries. Until now.
That makes four. After that, only two.
To have collected the necessary four artifacts out of six, not to mention the necessary component to connect them – the Trigram Furnace – in such a short amount of time is…
It’s daunting. Macaque knows that there’s still time yet before whatever the Bone Demon is planning will come to fruition, but the success she’s had so far is nothing short of terrifying. Worse given she has refused to tell him the end goal.
No. Even that is nothing compared to what she truly wants of me.
If Macaque wants to free himself of the Bone Demon’s clutches, it has to be soon. No. He needs to. Before he’s forced to do something he’ll regret, or the Bone Demon loses patience with him and decides to do it herself, exactly as she had promised the night she revealed herself to Macaque. Because it won’t matter – if he’s forced to betray MK’s trust or live with knowledge that his weakness has sent another demon after his kid, the end result will be the same.
Macaque needs to find a way to free himself, or his greatest fear will become reality. Not the indecisive state he’s currently caught in, but a permanent one, and by his hand all the same. If he doesn’t, he’ll…
He’ll lose MK.
More than you already have, an icy voice whispers, and lingers in his head long after like a neverending echo.
As days go, it certainly isn’t MK’s worst. Though with how his life has been since the Lunar New Year, he’s unfortunately grown accustomed to fearing what each new day may bring.
Spiders. Rude customers. Random demon attacks. A lack of a mentor. Fighting with his dad who he hasn’t seen in months.
The list is endless, yet that last item doesn’t fail in souring MK’s mood.
The altercation with Macaque is still fresh on his mind. It’s only been a few days since, but to MK, it remains a raw wound he can’t help but pick at.
He hates it.
Forced to lie awake at night, staring up at the ceiling as the argument repeats in his head over and over again, until exhaustion finally wins out. The dark bags under his eyes have caught the attention of his friends, but they’ve yet to directly ask about it. For which MK is grateful. Mostly. A small part of him is oddly bitter about it.
But he shoves it aside, less a cruel voice in his head feeds on it – a voice reminiscent of how Macaque had sounded on that rooftop. That twisted smirk devoid of mischief, instead lined with a malice matched by the glint in his golden eyes and painted in every crease of the crimson butterfly-like facial coloring the more his lips curled upward.
You’re nothing to him.
And yet despite his attempts to smother it, MK can’t forget: the hurtful words or the wicked way in which they’d been spoken. Like they were a fact, clear and simple.
The truth is obvious, the memory of Macaque sneers. You’re nothing.
It’s perhaps made only worse when MK’s overactive imagination further warps the words beyond the mangled mess that they already are, pulling and twisting them not unlike the way Macaque’s claws dance while manipulating his shadows.
MK glances over to his phone resting innocuously on his nightstand.
The olive branch has already been extended to him with Macaque’s hesitant offer, but MK has yet to take it. He’s not entirely sure why. He’d love nothing more than to curl up and watch Macaque perform one of his shadow performances, encapsulating him in the moment with all other thoughts and worries fading. A reminder of simpler times when all MK had to worry about were the nonexistent monsters hiding under his bed.
So maybe that’s why.
Because as much as MK would love to accept the offer and put all of this behind them, he’s no longer that child. He’s older now. An adult. And regardless of how much he wishes for a miracle to easily fix the strained relationship with Macaque, he knows that such a thing doesn’t exist. Attempting to act as if nothing is different won’t help. Playing it off will only lead to it worsening in the future should another argument break out.
And with how heated they’d both been before the cold silence washed over them, MK knows it’ll only be a matter of time until then.
The chasm between them is too wide to be crossed so easily.
A sigh drags itself from his lips, exhaustion plaguing him despite the sun having yet to rise. Pessimism is not something he’s used to feeling. He’s always tended to be the optimistic type, and while that’s both a mix of choice and his innate nature, he’s no stranger to the opposite either. Case in point, his current situation of the past few days.
Maybe even longer than that, a scathing voice taunts him as a series of memories flashes through his mind, every moment invoking a bitterness toward his absent mentor. Made even more bitter given how this little slip lit the fire of MK and Macaque’s argument. Though hasn’t that been an inevitable thing, too?
MK doesn’t regret moving to Megapolis. He can’t imagine himself ever regretting it. Not with the friends he’s made and this new life he’s cultivated for himself.
But he does regret how it’s affected his relationship with his dad. What were once weekly phone calls became biweekly, until the past few months when it became a rarity to hear his dad’s voice at all. Going from seeing Macaque every day of his life to now where a part of him feels as though he’s talking to a stranger…
The Macaque on that rooftop had been a stranger. His cold cruelty, at least. For a moment, MK felt as though he didn’t know the demon sitting next to him.
You’re just a pawn in a game. You’re nothing.
He groans and drags his hands down his face. Laying in the dark is only giving his overactive mind free roam to torture him. He’s not an early riser by any means, and he sure as hell doesn’t like starting work early, but MK needs the distraction. Anything to quiet the cruel whispers echoing in his skull.
Nothing, nothing, nothing.
If Pigsy is surprised when he trudges downstairs hours earlier than his usual, he doesn’t mention it. He simply shoves an apron into MK’s arms and forces him in front of the stove to begin working on the day’s broth. It’s nice. Both for Pigsy’s attempt at comfort and the distraction from his spiraling thoughts.
Every once in a while, the pig demon glances his way in obvious concern when he thinks MK won’t notice. It doesn’t really surprise him then, when Tang shows up only a few minutes before the restaurant opens, a stack of books in hand.
“I’ve been working on a tentative outline of the history of Megapolis,” he says, barely making it to his usual stool with the teetering stack. “You’ve always been good with remembering that sort of thing MK.”
And it’s nice. Continuing the busy work while listening to Pigsy and Tang as they inevitably start bickering, the smile that pulls at MK’s lips is faint but genuine.
The cruel taunts fade with the sound of dishes clinking and his friends’ voices. Becoming small and…
Then MK becomes small.
A startled yelp escapes him as he’s suddenly the size of a coin, but it’s falling into the sink and tumbling through pipes that leave him screaming in confused fear.
Just one normal day! Why can’t I have a single normal day!?
His screaming increases when he’s suddenly in a free fall, only for it to abruptly cut out when he lands face first onto unforgiving ground. Thankfully it doesn’t hurt. Still, MK doesn’t lift his head for a few seconds as he attempts to wrap his whirling mind around what exactly happened.
“A new power?” he wonders aloud, lifting a hand to glance at it. “Can’t say I was expecting that…”
Despite the remaining confusion over the suddenness of shrinking and tumbling into nothingness, he can’t deny his excitement. It’s been a while since his powers have manifested into something different, and the ability to shrink himself will definitely be helpful. For fighting, of course, but already the mischievous ways to mess with his friends begin prickling in his head.
Until he finally takes in his surroundings.
Oh. Oh no.
Of course, of all the places in the city to find himself without warning, it’s the Spider Queen’s lair.
He shivers and pushes himself to his feet. Despite it being some time since seeing the demon in person, MK had naively hoped she’d chosen to leave the city after being defeated on the Lunar New Year. Sure her spider lackeys had caused trouble that MK attempted to stop in recent weeks, but his meager hope remained.
No luck. Unsurprising.
Swallowing the bubble of anxiety in his throat, MK glances around the dark cavern in an attempt to find an escape. The less time he spends here, the less chance he has of running into the Spider Queen. Not to mention Pigsy and Tang have likely noticed his abrupt disappearance. Though given their penchant for becoming wrapped up in each other during their bickering, it’s also just as likely they haven’t noticed quite yet.
Either way, MK has no intention of sticking around this place.
He shivers again, wrapping his arms around himself in an attempt to stay warm. His magic helps, but it’s absolutely freezing.
MK gives a firm shake of his head and begins heading toward a potential exit.
Despite not knowing how his new power manifested himself, MK attempts to regain his original size as he goes. It’s unsuccessful, but at least messing with his magic keeps him relatively warm.
I don’t know what’s scarier – the Spider Queen or her sense of interior design…
He continues on, dismay growing with each step, as the sensation of heading deeper into the cave system dawns on him. At the very least, the Spider Queen and her lackeys don’t seem to be around…
The sound of something falling in the distance nearly gives him a heart attack. He barely swallows down his startled yelp, suddenly returning his original size in a flash of gold.
Curse my big mouth!
Panicking, MK scrambles for a nearby pipe and clambers up it. It’s so cold to the touch that it almost hurts, but the fear of being discovered makes it a passing thought.
It feels like hours that he stays huddled on top of the pipe, breaths labored and heart pounding in his chest. But without any following sound, his panic slowly dwindles.
He’s safe. In a better position to fight or flee, too, with both the high ground and being normal-sized again. Hopefully he won’t find himself in either position.
MK continues to wait with bated breaths, listening for any potential danger. It doesn’t hurt to be cautious, but especially when he’s in unknown terrain against those with a home field advantage. Speaking of, being higher up could give him an idea of where an exit might be. He’s not terribly optimistic, but looking around is better than continuing to huddle when he seems to be in the clear for the moment.
Spider Queen isn’t very sneak either, and she—
MK’s heart stutters in his chest. All previous thoughts fade into the background as his eyes zero in on one single thing.
The Trigram Furnace.
It’s here.
He’d wondered about it after ending the Spider Queen’s attempted domination on the Lunar New Year. When he and his friends eventually returned to Sandy’s airship to celebrate, the celestial object had been gone. Not a single trace of it remained. It’d been as though they’d never stolen it in the first place.
Given no one else apart from their group and Red Son knew about it being on the ship, and there were no signs of it being moved, Tang had surmised the possibility of the furnace returning to the Celestial Realm on its own. Powerful artifacts were known to have a sentience despite not being a living entity – MK’s staff being a prime example of that. It wasn’t too much of a stretch to think the same of another ancient artifact, especially one that lived in the Emperor’s throne room.
Now he wishes that they hadn’t so easily dismissed the furnace’s disappearance, eager to relax after the harrowing events of the day.
It being here of all places can’t mean anything good.
How did the Spider Queen find it? And why did she steal it in the first place?
Despite only facing the demon twice before, MK can’t connect this level of planning to her. She’s a terrifying enemy, but she’s straightforward. The only real tricky thing she’s done is pretending to be a shop owner to kidnap Pigsy and Tang. This is something else entirely.
MK fiddles with his sleeves, debating his options.
Attempting to leave the cavern with the Trigram Furnace will result in a fight. Despite MK now able to shrink himself – hopefully on command – he can’t do the same with the furnace. The Celestial object is heavy too, and regardless if the Spider Queen isn’t here, he’s certain she’ll know the moment he attempts to take it.
But leaving it here isn’t any better of an idea. Without knowing why the demon has it, MK can’t escape the cavern to call upon his friends for help and expect everything to go well. With his luck, the moment he leaves will be the moment the Spider Queen uses it for whatever evil plan she has concocted.
Trust your instincts.
The memory of Macaque’s voice from what feels like lifetimes ago echoes in his head. A simple phrase that the demon had said to MK with a gentle smack to the back of the head with his tail. A lesson that MK had taken to heart.
His instincts rarely, if ever, lead him astray. And as he stares down at the furnace from his perch on the pipes zigzagging over it, his instincts prompt him to wait. Listen. Not his favorite thing to do, but if the city is at risk in any way similar to the Lunar New Year, then it’ll be worth it.
And so, he waits.
For how long, he doesn’t know. Minutes to hours maybe, breathing in and out through his nose while eyeing the darkened cavern as his magic and anticipation cause his fingers to fidget. The urge to move is there but quiet in a way it rarely is.
There’s definitely something going on here…
The only sound he makes is a light hitch of his breath when he finally feels something different – the sudden drop of temperature. The sound of someone approaching hits his senses next, and his eyes immediately dart toward the movement as two figures enter his vision. He ducks further down despite how unlikely it is for either to see him where he’s obscured in shadow, forcing himself not to shiver despite the cold licking at his cheeks and hands.
At first glance, the two aren’t very imposing. Not spiders for one thing, but the one appears to be a young human girl.
Probably not a human girl, MK decides rather quickly given whose lair they’re currently in and the lack of fear on the girl’s face.
The other figure he can’t see much of given the dark cloak obscuring their figure. Taller than the girl, but not overly defined in any specific way. They could easily slip into a crowd, and MK would never find them.
Except for the lantern dangling from their hand.
An eerie violet light emanates from it, reeking of magic that MK can sense even past the bone chill in the air. The shadows seem to crawl around where the glow’s reach ends like sentient beings. It’s floating too, he realizes after a few seconds, watching it gently sway above the clawed hand.
He shivers. Definitely creepy.
And yet there’s something about it…
Something…
…familiar.
The thought makes his frown deepen. He may not always be the most observant person, and having only awakened his own magic within the past few months, the ability to recognize and differentiate mystical signatures is still new to him. The Monkey King’s he could identify in a heartbeat – it’s as radiant and blinding as the sun. Mei is also easier for him to pick out, both due to being as close as they are and the odd mixture of what he can only describe as electricity mixed with flames. A feature of her dragon lineage, he assumes.
Given his other friends don’t use magic – although there is a certain quality about Sandy, but given he’s a water demon it’s just as likely his mystical signature is different to begin with – MK isn’t sure he’d even be able to pick out a few of the demons he’s faced in battle.
The Demon Bull family is one such possibility, though MK hasn’t been around them in recent months when his powers have strengthened and enhanced this ability. Not to mention they just have a presence about them that he’s sure anyone without mystical abilities would know they’re around.
None of the other recurring demons he’s fought are easily identifiable by their magic. Enough for him to confidently do so anyway.
So it doesn’t make sense for the magic of the lantern and cloaked demon to feel familiar enough that he can pick it out, and especially not with the overpowering icy magic flooding every inch of the cavern.
Who are you?
“Is there something wrong?” The girl’s voice shatters the silence.
MK can’t see the cloaked figure’s face, but something in their expression must imply there is. The girl smiles in a sly manner that doesn’t fit her young features.
“I didn’t take you to be a sentimental one Liu’er Mihou.”
“I’m not.”
The person in the cloak – Liu’er Mihou – is a man by the sound of it. His voice is soft, demure MK might describe it, at least in his master’s presence. Not what MK expected.
And again, there’s a niggling sensation in his head that he’s missing something. Like an itch underneath his skin that he can’t scratch, the realization that he knows this man refuses to leave him. MK can’t place it, but there’s just something so familiar about him.
Given how many demons he’s faced since picking up his staff, it’s highly possible this Liu’er Mihou is one of them. He’s sporting a different look though – MK would’ve remembered someone who seemed more like an apparition in that cloak – and is either going by another name or MK just never learned it. An oddity compared to the other demons he’s fought who are keen to reveal themselves and why they’re attacking him.
Still. Despite being sound logic even Tang would agree with, MK has a feeling he knows this demon from somewhere else.
But where?
He watches as Liu’er walks over to the furnace, the lantern held in front of him by sharp claws that just barely peek out from the long sleeves of his cloak. The violet glow shudders as it’s held over the water. Liu’er seems to hesitate for a moment, grip tightening imperceptibly, before letting the lantern fall.
MK’s eyes widen as it sinks into the furnace. The water, or whatever it is given how unnatural it acts, swallows the lantern eagerly, causing ripples to spread across the surface. A shiver races down MK’s spine at the unsettling stuttering of magic in the air. It’s as if the lantern is taking its final breaths. A morbid thought he immediately loses when the cavern explodes in a flurry of ice.
He barely swallows down his startled yelp, ducking to avoid the blast of bitter cold. If he’d thought the magic in the cavern had been suffocating before, it’s a sliver compared to what it is now.
And he doesn’t know anything about what he’s accidentally stumbled upon, but one thing is obvious: the two demons are dangerous and need to be stopped.
“Wonderful,” the girl says. The smallest hint of a fang peeks out from her lips. “Only two more artifacts left, and one of them we should be seeing very soon if all goes according to plan.” A glint catches in her eye as she tilts her head. “I hope you aren’t planning on forgoing your side of the deal. This time, at the very least.”
Liu’er Mihou’s cloak shifts oddly in the back. “I’m not. I’ve learned my lesson.”
“Good. This is part of your destiny after all, and soon both of our hard work will come to fruition. It is up to you to take the final piece that we need.” Her grin widens. “Then our years spent in chains because of Sun Wukong will be avenged, and the world will be made anew.”
MK’s heart stutters. Monkey King. These two want revenge against the Monkey King.
Despite the threat he’s heard time and time again, and his faith in his mentor, the two demons below MK are obviously bad news. Their unassuming appearances aside, MK can feel their suffocating magic in the air, threatening to snuff him out if he simply breathes the wrong way.
He needs to warn Monkey King.
Caught up in his worry, MK almost misses the rest of the conversation. He shakes himself out of his slump, shelving the urge to astral project a message to his mentor, and focuses back onto the two demons. Macaque had always pressed him to listen more, and this is definitely the situation to do so. And maybe if MK learns what the final artifact the two are looking for is, he can grab it before them.
Yeah, Macaque would definitely be proud of him for his line of thinking.
“It will be the most difficult to obtain,” the girl says with an inquisitive hum. “Though I needn’t remind you of the consequences should you fail.”
“I won’t fail. He… he trusts me.”
MK unconsciously leans closer at that particular morsel of information. So whoever it is that owns the final artifact is a friend of the cloaked demon. MK will definitely need to work fast if he wants to get it first.
The girl’s smile is predatory. “Of course he does. And how coincidental it all is, so much so that it has to be destiny, wouldn’t you agree?”
“...perhaps.”
“Oh Liu’er.” The girl giggles and a million little other voices chime in. The walls of the cave feel as though they close in with the horrible sound. “It is destiny. Of course, I’d simply assumed you picked up the boy as a cover, but you must have sensed the truth of what he would become. I wonder if that rumor I’d heard of you being able to hear the past and future isn’t quite so exaggerated after all.”
“People always talk. Humans, demons, immortals. Words mean nothing.”
“Hm. Right you are.” She turns away, clasping her hands behind her back. “So do remember our deal Liu’er. The sooner you retrieve the staff, the sooner we can both finally fulfill our destinies.”
…
…staff?
Liu’er’s cloak shifts oddly again. MK stares at it.
No, he realizes, watching something dark peek out from under it. It’s not the cloak so much as a tail beneath it causing the cloth to move. A black-furred tail.
His eyes flicker to the pool of light blue liquid still stirring in the furnace. The lantern now dissolved within it is a mere memory, but the final breath of its magic lingers in the air, brushing against MK’s own in a way he’s definitely felt before.
The magic aside, there was also something familiar about the violet glow that emanated from it and painted the walls, and its effect on the shadows…
Later, after hours of staring up at the ceiling from his bed and allowing the wound to fester from the confusion and raw betrayal his mind attempted to piece an answer from, MK would be able to pinpoint the exact moment his entire world fell apart.
It begins with his breath hitching in his throat as a small but sharp intake of air. His eyes widen and hands slacken where they’re splayed out on the pipe for balance. The chill of the air sinks deeper into his skin, smothering the warmth both natural and magical until all he can feel is winter pumping through his veins.
The moment of calm before the storm, but MK knows it to be a lie.
Because the storm is already here, and it’s not thunderous or chaotic or something even remotely capable of finding refuge from by hunkering down and hoping for a chance to see the rainbow peeking through the clouds when the rain finally stops.
It’s quiet. Hopelessness. It’s huddling in a clumsily tunneled out snowbank, staring for hours out at the unassuming snowflakes as they flutter down and flurry about with the wind, burying him further in their grasp. It’s knowing that even if he dares step out into it, no matter which direction he picks or how fast he forces his tiring body to move, the cold will freeze him long before he ever has a chance to find warmth.
The ice is slow to spread over his heart, but to MK, it has already killed a part of him.
Because it’s Macaque standing down there. The demon who’d found him and raised him despite not needing to, who held him when the nightmares were too real and smiled at him as though he were his entire world. The one who he knew would always love and support him even if the celestial gods declared war against him.
Macaque is his dad, but more than that, he is MK’s home.
“I’ll get it,” says the cloaked demon or Liu’er Mihou, but neither matter because that’s Macaque. “You don’t need to concern yourself with him.”
And MK doesn’t need it – not with the familiar magic and voice and the damned shadows – but the final sharp spike of confirmation stabs into his chest regardless when Macaque turns just enough for MK to see the crimson butterfly-like facial coloring beneath the hood.
He can’t read the demon’s expression, but then again he’s never been able to. He’s never known the demon’s innermost thoughts or the slightest of details regarding his past, and now MK wishes he’d never foolishly hoped for either.
All of the evidence has been laid out before him. The truth is obvious no matter if he closes his eyes or tries to deny it.
You’re nothing to him.
You’re nothing to me .