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Going Down in Flames

Summary:

“Why do you still insist on playing the hero? You already lost!” Macaque's shoulders slumped. “Wukong, let's just leave-”
“No!” Wukong argued, turning back to face the bright skies. “This is my home, my mountain, my battle. I'm not going to just run from it all!”

Sun Wukong gambles his life. He loses everything else.

Notes:

Warning: I was on the fence about choosing "Graphic Depictions of Violence" but I judged that they're not actually that graphic. Still, you've now been warned, just in case.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

“Surrender. Surrender now, and your brothers will not have to share your fate.”

Those were the words of the Jade Emperor to Wukong, as it had become clear that all the momentum from their surprise assault on the Celestial Realm had been lost.

DBK had somehow fallen for a Celestial maiden, and with his sluggish moves and strikes, it was only a matter of time before the fierce warrior he was facing would win the fight on top of his heart.

The rest of the rebellion had been surrounded by celestial warriors, Erlang Shen and the Third Lotus Prince Nezha staring them down. Though they kept up the fight, it would take a tremendous amount of effort and luck for them to turn the tide of battle back against the Celestial Armies.

And Wukong was alone against the Jade Emperor, not accounting for the defeated celestials that had been strewn about in the destruction Wukong had wrought, all of them injured and unconscious. The personal involvement of the Emperor of the Celestial Realm into the battle had been an unexpected and unorthodox turn of events, but one that had Wukong raring up for what he had thought could become the best fight and victory of his existence.

But as their assault kept dragging on with victory still far away on the horizon, there was a very real and growing chance that he and his dear friends would end up defeated.

Wukong raged at the thought of admitting said defeat, knowing what it would mean, but the Jade Emperor spoke again.

“Unless you do not care for their lives?”

Wukong's frantic gaze landed on Macaque. His best and closest friend was none the wiser as to what was going on, too focused, too cornered to spare some of his hearing for anything else but his self-preservation.

A vain effort this was, if he was going to be put to death just like the rest of Wukong's friends... should Wukong not do as the Jade Emperor demanded.

Wukong could not have that. He would rather...

I would rather die, he realized, horrified at the thought.

He did not want to die. Ever. He infamously had done everything he could not to, more than afraid at the prospect. But he was just as terrified of losing the ones he cared about.

He growled, desperate to let his anger shine through instead of letting his tears fall and have the whole of the Celestial Host witness how weak he could be.

He had no other choice.

He put the staff down on the ground. He bowed in submission. He surrendered.

They had lost.

It was over.

He could feel the relief that crashed like a wave over the realm, the celestial soldiers who were far enough away from the main event relaxing their battle stances.

He could also hear the rattling of metal chains in the distance, no doubt meant for him. He refused to look around, too humiliated to take another blow to his bruised ego and confidence, staring down at the shadow he cast.

The shadow moved, and Wukong's heart stopped for a second, a frigid torrent of dread submerging him.

No.

No no no no-

But before he could do or say anything, the darkness stretched itself out, swallowing him down.

Used as he was to this, Wukong should not have felt disoriented when he found himself looking at the familiar sights of his home, but he was.

Flower Fruit Mountain was bathed in light and filled with the distant sounds of his subjects playing in the trees without a care in the world. Peace, as he had always sworn there would be under his protection.

But for how long?

His head swimming, Wukong got up with the help of the staff, shrinking it down and putting it back in his ear. He took a groggy step forward, and another, turning around to find that his brothers were all here, looking about as lost and confused as he was – save for one.

Macaque's chest was heaving, traces of panic showing on his face. A little way away from everyone, but approaching them with loud and rageful steps, was DBK, who looked between Macaque and Wukong once he reached the former's level.

“Simians! What is the meaning of this?!”

Azure, Yellowtusk and Peng's accusing stares followed DBK's lead, falling onto Wukong.

Wukong wanted to tell them about his deal with the Jade Emperor, he wanted to explain the threats he had been issued.

But he couldn't think, he couldn't form the words, there were so many things pushing around in his head, strong enough to give him a headache. Up in the Celestial Realm, Wukong had only been ready to die if it had meant his friends could keep on living. So that they would be safe.

This would no longer be the case, he realized, the truth of it making him nauseous, fear and despair starting to cloud his mind. If he was ever captured again, he would die...

And so would they.

All because...

All because of him.

As always when trapped in a corner, Wukong fell to anger.

“What have you done!?” He yelled at Macaque with his teeth bared, muting the protests of his heart. “You've ruined it all!”

“Him?!” DBK shouted. “What about you? You sold us out!”

“I had a plan! If Macaque hadn't brought us here-”

“I-I saved you!...” Macaque defended, his voice strangled.

“How? I'm not safe, none of us are! The Celestial Realm knows we're here! They'll take the fight to Flower Fruit Mountain!”

And they would hurt the monkeys, they would hurt his brothers... They would hurt Macaque. The constant thought of it kept on adding to Wukong's distress.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Yellowtusk tracing the runes of a teleportation array on the ground.

“What are you doing?” Wukong asked, not wanting to hear the answer.

“What does it look like?” Peng spat out. “This backwater mountain is going to be razed to the ground, and I'm not about to stick around and lose my feathers for it.”

Wukong was torn between rage and despair, as he protested, looking in turn between the three eldest of their brotherhood. “But this whole thing was your idea! You can't just-”

“We made you our leader, so that you would bring us to victory,” Azure said, his tone cold and firm, a true dam against the fury he felt, one that Wukong could still hear a hint of in his voice. “But all you did was betray us.”

“I didn't-If you'd just let me explain-”

“What is there to explain?” Azure said, his booming voice scaring some of the monkeys that had come to watch what the commotion was about. “We all saw you bow to that tyrant! You call yourself a hero? A king? At the end of the day, you're nothing but a monkey wearing a crown!”

Wukong's mouth opened in shock, as he tried his hardest not to break down into tears. His heart yearning for comfort, it led his eyes to Macaque, who fled from his stare, looking small as he hugged himself.

Wukong felt the urge to be the one hugging him, but as he took a step in Macaque's direction...

Macaque stepped back.

That rejection was like a slap to the face. He was still feeling the sting of it when Yellowtusk called for Peng and Azure.

“Ready when you are.”

With a haughty air, Peng stepped into the array, throwing Wukong a sarcastic, “Good luck.”

Azure joined them. He said nothing, not acknowledging anyone.

Yellowtusk looked at Wukong with disappointment, and that somehow hurt more than the disdain and ignorance.

The teleportation array lit up. In a flash, they were gone.

Wukong gritted his teeth, trying to keep a scream caged in. He failed. His rageful roar scared more of the monkeys, who went to hide themselves up in the trees that the power of Wukong's blowup was not actively destroying.

As he came down from his outburst with ragged breaths, his eyes caught onto yet another teleportation array, the Bull Family's sigil etched into the ground.

“Let me guess,” he said, his voice cracking. “You're leaving too?”

“How observant.” DBK rolled his eyes. “I'm sure you haven't forgotten that I have my own kingdom to take care of.”

Wukong let out a long, empty sigh.

“Fine. Go.”

DBK hesitated.

“The Netherworld is the safest place to retreat to,” he said, looking between Wukong and Macaque. “The Celestial Realm would fear retaliation if they launched an open attack there. It might be the better choice...”

DBK's stare lingered on Macaque, and that sparked a surge of possessiveness in Wukong.

“We'll be fine,” he retorted.

DBK looked at him this time, not needing a single word to convey what he thought about that. “Do as you wish.”

He stepped onto his array, and nodded at them both, a rare hint of doubt in his eyes.

“... See you soon.”

He was gone from Wukong's sight in a blip, the teleportation array disappearing with him.

And right as this happened, the skies started to light up. Not with the sun, no, but with bright golden clouds rising on the horizon.

The Celestial Armies had caught up to them.

“They're here...” He heard Macaque say in disbelief. “How many...?”

A lot. Thousands upon thousands, with how blinding the approaching heavenly lights were.

Wukong tried not to let it get him down. His friends leaving might have been a blessing in disguise: they were one less issue he would have to worry about. All that he had left to handle was preserving the integrity of his home, keeping his little monkeys safe, and protecting Macaque.

He armed himself with his staff again, determination settling within his very core.

“Get in,” he said to Macaque.

“What?”

“In my shadow. Get in. Didn't you hear me?”

A stupid thing to ask Macaque of all people, especially when he had just done away with the glamours on his titular ears. But with how he was acting, Wukong thought it necessary.

“You're... You're going to fight them?...”

“We have no other choice.”

Macaque shook his head, two of his beautiful pairs of ears glowing. “Wukong, there's a hundred thousand celestial soldiers surrounding us! They're setting up traps and celestial nets so that we can't escape! They sent down Li Jing and his son Nezha, the Nine Luminaries, and many more! And if they fail there'll still be more to come!”

“So what? We can take them all on!” Wukong said. He could feel his frenzied heartbeat in his throat, and tried in vain to gulp the feeling down. “We can do it, together.”

“No we can't!” Macaque shouted, his ears twitching at his volume, prompting him to hide them again. “Stop acting like you can take on anything! You're immortal, not invincible!”

“I know that!” Wukong said, his voice rising in pitch with frustration, as this had been one of the reasons he had seeked even more immortality. “But you're immortal too, and if we-”

“If we escape, if we lay low in the Netherworld, we could-”

“I am not going to run and hide away like a coward!”

“Why do you still insist on playing the hero? You already lost!” Macaque's shoulders slumped. “Wukong, let's just leave-”

“No!” Wukong argued, turning back to face the bright skies. “This is my home, my mountain, my battle. I'm not going to just run from it all!”

“Will you ever listen?!” Macaque screamed out, his voice becoming as raw as Wukong's. “You can't win this!”

We can win this if you-”

“There is no “we”! I'm not going to fight another losing battle, Wukong!”

Wukong whipped around to face Macaque and took a step back, his grip on his staff faltering.

“What?...”

There was not another word from Macaque, but he held Wukong's gaze in a silent plea, standing tall even as he was trembling from head to toe.

Something became clear: he was also going to leave Wukong behind, just as the rest of the brotherhood had.

In that moment, Wukong could have almost believed that Macaque had reached within his very being with his shadows to attack him: the pain he was feeling was overwhelming.

“Fine!” He shouted, hissing the word out through his gritted teeth, tears stinging at his eyes. “If you're not going to help me, just go! It's not like I ever needed you anyway!”

Macaque's eyes grew wide, and Wukong could see in them the promise of tears. A second later, Macaque was gone, having slipped through his own shadow.

Wukong's heart had also plunged into a cold darkness, and the tears flowed down his face. He let them fall, angry, and more resigned than ever.

He was not about to back down. If the Celestial Realm wanted him dead, he would not make it easy for them.

*

All things considered, the battle had actually been going well.

The Nine Luminaries had been defeated without a hitch, already weakened from their prior battle up in the heavens. When more of the Celestial Armies had shown up, Wukong had led his own army of monkeys against them in a dispassionate but brutal charge. 

And after taking out hundreds upon hundreds of men like they were as many flies he had to swap at, he found himself busy with Li Jing and Nezha, clashing weapons and throwing fists over and over in an incessant and deadly dance.

While Wukong had been more than able to hold his own in spite of the resentful weight on his heart slowing him down, his monkeys had been no match to the celestial soldiers, and many had begun to tire out. But before they could have been caught and made prisoners, they had been swallowed down by shadows.

The sight of it had filled Wukong with immense hope, his heart threatening to escape out of his chest with the joy that Macaque had not actually left the mountain. With such a tremendous boost to his morale, and with the help of his clones, he had made quick work out of the Celestial King and the Third Lotus Prince.

But they had barely retreated from the battlefield, that another foe had shown up: Moksa, Li Jing's second son, and disciple of Guanyin. Hearing the boy introduce himself, Wukong had laughed out loud, thoroughly confused as to why Macaque had been worried about anything if this really was the best the Celestial Realm had to offer to oppose him.

After his gratuitous victory over Moksa, seeing as no one else came to defy him, Wukong felt lighter than air, all of his previous worries and upsets gone like the wind once a storm had come to an end. Why had he ever worried about his own fate, let alone that of his friends? He was the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, and after the feats he had pulled, could surely claim his superiority over the heavens themselves!

He greeted his marshals and generals with a grin as he stepped through the waterfall, relieved to see that his little monkeys all appeared unharmed, clapping and hooting at his return.

His eyes looked over the crowd and into the darkness, trying to find a beloved sight, but Macaque was nowhere to be seen.

This put a serious dent in Wukong's good mood, as he knew for certain that Macaque was avoiding him on purpose. Rare was the fact that he willingly missed an occasion to be the first to greet him back from travels or battles, eager to fall into Wukong's awaiting arms. The few times he had failed to do so, he had been upset with Wukong for one reason or another.

But Wukong did not have time to deal with his best friend's pettiness, and his mood was soured even further, because yet another celestial warrior showed up at the door.

This time, however, Wukong felt a pang of doubts as he seized up his next foe: compared to Li Jing and his sons, or even most of the Celestial Realm's finest warriors, Erlang Shen was in another league.

As their fight was inevitable, Wukong pushed away everything but his desire to triumph as he crossed the safety of the waterfall and engaged Erlang Shen in combat. They attacked each other with powerful strikes, kicking up enough dust to veil the sun, the battle undecided even as it went on longer and longer under the watchful eyes of the earth and sky.

When Erlang Shen changed into a gigantic and monstrous form, Wukong hurried to copy him without losing his momentum, parrying the polearm with his staff at every turn and launching boulders at his opponent, crushing the ones that were sent his way. Parts of the mountain were crushed under the force of their blows, countless trees groaned and snapped under their feet, but this was a sacrifice Wukong was willing to make.

The integrity of his subjects came before that of his kingdom.

As such, it was during a short lull in the fight that he felt the urge to check on his troop, only to find his little monkeys screaming and running away from Erlang Shen's six brothers like panicked ants or a fearful flock of birds, Macaque's shadows unable to save them all from being caught by falcons, hounds and arrows, and with no sign of either Ma, Liu, Beng or Ba.

Overtaken by panic, Wukong turned back into his real form and away from Erlang Shen, hearing nothing but the terrified screams of his dear subjects and the frantic beat of his heart as he rushed back to the waterfall to protect them all.

But standing in his way were the brothers, all six of them threatening him with their weapons. Wukong tried to fool them by turning into a common sparrow, but Erlang Shen was hot on his tail and immune to such trickery. He turned into a hawk, and a shapeshifting battle ensued, reminding Wukong of the innocent game of tag he used to play with his own brothers. He tried not to let the gloom from this recollection take over his mind, however, preferring to take advantage of it.

There was one rule in shapeshiftag that Wukong had never been allowed to break, as neither Macaque nor DBK could turn into inanimate objects. But this rule did not apply here, so Wukong took the first opportunity he had to get away from Erlang Shen's sight, and transformed into an unremarkable and isolated temple.

Unfortunately, because of the ban, Wukong had never honed his skill to shapeshift into such forms under pressure, and the couple of times he had cheated were too few to count. In his haste he forgot about his tail, turning it at the last moment into a mast that stood in a very unusual place behind the temple, a detail that gave him away in a heartbeat the moment Erlang Shen laid his eyes on him.

Found out and starting to feel scared for his life once more, Wukong did not waste a second before he took to the skies, and hopefully away from his pursuer. But it did not take long before Erlang Shen tracked him down like the skilled hunter that he was, and this time his six brothers were there to surround Wukong.

Fighting all seven of the warriors proved a daunting task, more so on Wukong's mind than on his body. How unfair was it, that he stood alone against them, with none of his own brothers there to make the battle a bit more even?

And as he was focused on defending himself from repeated and coordinated attacks, his mind repeatedly screaming that capture would mean death, he failed to notice that many more Celestials had joined in to watch the show, and among them were Guanyin and Lao Tzu. The latter let a diamond ring fall down, and the weapon landed right onto Wukong's head.

Stunned in more ways than one, Wukong stumbled and fell to the ground. He scrambled to rise up and started to run away, but he had not been able to go far when pain shot up in his calf.

He fell again, face-first in the dirt, turning around on himself to discover that the source of the pain was Erlang Shen's hound, its jaw clenching down on Wukong's leg and drawing blood.

“You nasty beast!” Wukong shouted as he kept trying to get away, his movements made erratic with fear. “Let me go!”

He was successful in getting the hound to give up on his catch, but to his dismay he failed to properly escape: his injury made him slower, and he did not manage to get up fast enough to avoid being surrounded again.

While Erlang Shen had all of his attention grabbed by his hound, cooing at and fretting over that vile beast, one of his brothers used a sickle to pierce Wukong's collarbone, the sudden pain making him scream. Another one of Erlang Shen's brothers used the diamond ring, the weapon ensnaring him in a tight grip.

And with that, they left him be. A grave mistake, or so Wukong thought before finding out with rising horror that he could not move his limbs. Worse, the sickle they had lodged into his body was preventing him from shapeshifting.

Fueled by fear and fury, Wukong gave it his all, sure that his strength would allow him to break through his bindings.

But he couldn't. No matter how much power he put into his struggle to get out.

He was trapped, with no way to escape from the snare.

His blood went cold. His stomach churned. He felt faint.

“Macaque!...” he called, weakly. Even so, he must have heard. Macaque had always been able to hear even the faintest of his whispers.

But as the Celestials dragged him to the realm of light and toward his death, no shadows came to his rescue.

*

The Celestial Realm was in a pitiful state, echoing the way Wukong felt inside as he was paraded around for all to see. He was wearing nothing but torn clothes and a layer of dirt, warm blood dripping down from the wound on his shoulder as he limped on the once pristine golden roads, jeers and laughter being his constant companions on his way to the terrace designated for the Capital Execution of Demons.

A demon. Him. He had never felt so humiliated in his life, unable to bear that title with prideful defiance like DBK's ancestors always had.

But more than that, as they tied him to the Pole of the Vanquished, he felt afraid. And alone.

Macaque... Where was Macaque? He was supposed to always be there, his other half, the Moon to his Sun. He was meant to be by his side no matter the distance between them, but wherever he looked he could not see him, let alone feel a trace of his reassuring presence.

Wukong's sentence was announced by one of the celestial officials, as the Jade Emperor had not bothered to come and do so himself: not content with killing him, the heavens had full intent to desecrate his corpse afterwards, cutting him up in tiny pieces and denying him a proper burial.

Order was given to go through with the execution, and Wukong's heart almost gave out right then and there, something which would have spared the Celestial Realm a lot of time and effort.

Indeed, no matter how hard they tried to end his life, be it to have him chopped up, impaled, pricked or lacerated, none of what they did made so much as a dent in his status as a living being, let alone in his skin. With their renewed attempts, fire and lightning did no more than tickle him.

Wukong would have liked to think it was solely his will to survive that had allowed him to resist, but even he was forced to admit that the many layers of immortality he had acquired through various means may have also had something to do with it.

The Celestials came to the same conclusion, with Lao Tzu at the helm. Wukong was dragged around once more until they reached Lao Tzu's palace. The Eight Trigrams Furnace was brought over, deceptively unremarkable for being one of the few things in the world that could actually kill Wukong, as he learned from his newly decided fate.

He did not want to die.

He really did not want to die.

But they were going to melt him down into his most basic components, layer of immortality by layer of immortality, until there would be nothing left of him but an elixir.

You're immortal, not invincible!” Macaque's voice rang in his ears, so clear that it was as if Wukong had also gained the ability to hear the past.

He wanted to cry.

But he didn't. Not when these words reminded him of what he had always been aware of.

And what he lacked in invincibility, he had always made up for with his sharp mind.

But time was running out.

He screamed, as the sickle was torn out of his collarbone. In the same breath, he was freed from his bindings.

And without any further warning, he was thrown inside the furnace, his fate sealed away with it.

Wukong only had moments to get over the pain and take in the inner workings of the artefact. Had he not been so studious under the teachings of Master Subodhi, he would have never had a chance at surviving. But with his knowledge of the trigrams, he figured out the furnace the moment the fire was lit.

He curled up in a corner, as much as he could. The flames were still licking at the extremities of his limbs, but not enough to hurt. However, the smoke did, stinging away at his eyes.

He closed them, but the darkness he saw had his heart breaking, and he could only think of all the ways things could have gone differently.

Macaque could have rushed to his rescue. He could have saved him. So many times.

But he hadn't.

Wukong could understand Azure, Yellowtusk and Peng leaving, even if it enraged him to the highest point.

He could also accept DBK's departure, as disheartened as it made him.

But Macaque... Macaque had no good reason to abandon him. Not after all that they had lived through together. Not after all the dreams they had sworn to share. Not after all that Wukong had ever done to keep him safe.

To keep all those he loved safe.

And all for nothing.

Wukong opened his eyes again. There were no shadows to be found in the sea of fire, despite how hard he looked.

No matter what he could try to tell himself, his eyes could only show him the truth.

No one was coming.

No one.

With that thought, Wukong finally let the tears fall, his body wracked by silent sobs.

The pain that had seized him with an unforgiving hold was unbearable. Undescribable. And just like the tears, it did not only come from the stinging smoke.

*

Wukong had tried to keep track of the days with his breathing, but the constant flow of his tears had made that difficult.

All that he knew was that he had to endure the torture for 49 days, but when he heard some commotion coming from above, it felt as if he had spent 81 days in that furnace. Regardless of their actual number, these were as many days over which he had felt his heart and his thoughts darken more and more, until all the cheer and playfulness he had once been filled with had been burned out of him, leaving behind a maddening thirst for revenge.

The moment the lid was lifted, Wukong could not wait a second more: blinded by smoke and rage, he shot up out of the furnace that was sent tumbling down from the force. In his frenzied state he had even less regard for manners, so when Lao Tzu managed to seize him, Wukong threw him off and out of the way like an old sack of rice.

He had nothing else on his mind but vengeance, more uncaring than ever about the consequences of his actions as he swung his staff around with no rhyme or reason, letting nothing or no one stop him, no matter their rank or power.

It was in this wild and mad dash that he reached the palace of the Jade Emperor, alarming even more officials and warriors who attempted to stall his progression.

Furious to be so close to yet so far from his goal, Wukong summoned his war form, his three heads roaring and his six arms striking at whomever dared to go up against him, leaving nothing but destruction in his wake.

He had been meant to overthrow the Jade Emperor, so this was what he would do.

This time, nothing in the universe could keep him away from taking over the heavens and their throne.

*

The Five Phases Mountain was as depressing and demeaning a prison as it ever was, isolated from the outside world, just as the furnace had been.

But someone was there, their steps lighter than those of the deities that would come quell his hunger with iron pellets and his thirst with molten copper. Compared to them, the newcomer's presence was barely noticeable.

Wukong picked up on a sweet and familiar scent – with a strange hint of smoke. He lifted his head to look, and there was a horrified gasp.

“What happened to your eyes?...”

Macaque.

Macaque had finally come.

...

Too little, too late.

 

Notes:

So...
Yeah.

(btw, if you need fluff to cleanse yourself from the angst, I posted a short shadowpeach fic yesterday called The Thief.
(to clarify, if necessary, it's not connected to the entropy series)

Lil bonus: you can click here for your educational tidbit about why Azure Lion said what he said about Sun Wukong

(take all this with a grain of salt, I'm still learning stuff and compiled this from various sites with varying degrees of weird translations!)
沐 mù
猴 hóu
而 ér
冠 guàn
literally: a monkey wearing a hat/crown
figuratively: a worthless person in imposing attire/someone lacking any notable skills or abilities but who has been given a high-ranking position/an uncivilized person with a regal appearance/an unfit leader or ruler... (you get the gist).

The origin of that idiom comes from the advisor of Xiang Yu, a powerful general who helped seize and sack the capital of the Qin Dynasty (221-206 BC), leading to the end of this very first imperial dynasty. In spite of his prowess and the opportunity he had to do so, Xiang Yu did not want to take power over the entire world (= the unified kingdoms that had formed China's first empire) as his advisor suggested. Xiang Yu hated the Qin capital and only wished to go back to his “backwater” homeland of Chu, planning to reign as king on its western territories.
The inhabitants of the Kingdom of Chu, in the south, were (rudely) considered to be ignorant and uncivilized compared to the Kingdom of Qin, and said to be alike to monkeys in that sense. Since his advice was ignored by Xiang Yu, one of those "southern monkeys", the advisor complained that even if you dressed up a monkey like a human, it would not make the monkey as intelligent as a human.
(And then he was boiled alive for insulting Xiang Yu.)

Thanks for reading!

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