Great Sage Above Brockton Sakadagami 2.10

When the Great Sage saw him, he lifted high his golden-hooped rod with gales of laughter and called out, “What little warrior are you and where do you come from, that you dare present yourself here to provoke battle?” 

“You must have eyes but no pupils,” shouted the Immortal Master, “if you don’t recognize me! I am the maternal nephew of the Jade Emperor, Erlang, the King of Illustrious Grace and Spirit by imperial appointment. I have received my order from above to arrest you, the rebellious Bimawen ape. Don’t you know that your time has come?” 

“I remember,” said the Great Sage, “that the sister of the Jade Emperor some years ago became enamored of the Region Below; she married a man by the name of Yang and had a son by him. Are you that boy who was reputed to have cleaved open the Peach Mountain with his ax? I would like to rebuke you roundly, but I have no grudge against you. I can hit you with this rod of mine too, but I’d like to spare your life! A little boy like you, why don’t you hurry back and ask your Four Great Devarājas to come out?” 

When the Immortal Master heard this, he grew very angry and shouted, “Reckless ape! Don’t you dare be so insolent! Take a sample of my blade!” Swerving to dodge the blow, the Great Sage quickly raised his golden-hooped rod to engage his opponent. 

What a fine fight there was between the two of them!

• Journey to the West, chapter 6

The first blow determines the flow of battle. An axiom that has stood true throughout the ages. Colin had every intention of landing that first blow.

He jabbed his spear forward, aimed right at the cape’s sternum. Wukong parried the blow with his staff and tried to push him aside, only for his rocket boots to kick in and push him forward. When Wukong’s gaze diverted to the clashing weapons, Armsmaster pulled out another halberd and jabbed it right below his ribcage, its tip crackling blue with 10,000 volts. A tail whipped out and halted the weapon a hair’s length away from his black robes. 

“Please, expanding weapons are a tiresome repetition; attempt something original,” Wukong tutted, even as his knees buckled. Armsmaster didn’t rise to the taunt; truth was, he didn’t expect a strong reaction from Wukong, considering his own weapon. With a press of a button, smoke erupted from the first halberd’s point, surprising Wukong just enough for him to jerk back the spear and charge him again. A sudden gust of wind buffeted his armor as the monkey-man spun wildly and deflected both his blows, dispersing the smoke in his wake. Armsmaster quickly settled into a ready stance as Wukong rubbed his eyes with a furrowed brow. He would normally press his assault, but the circumstances were different with the new cape.

With a final shake of his head, Wukong opened his eyes and mock-glared at Colin. “Such trickery in an honorable duel?” he gasped. “Appalling to think one who is deemed a hero would rely on such dishonorable tactics!”

“It’s called being pragmatic,” the hero in question retorted. “I’m not taking any chances with you, and if it means using every weapon available in my arsenal, then so be it.”

From his observations, Wukong didn’t seem like the type to espouse honor, of all things, but for some reason, Armsmaster wasn’t surprised. If Wukong really was buying into his own cosplay, then it would make sense for him to adhere to some chivalric code, albeit one rooted in a Chinese mindset. His displays against the gangsters were rough and savage, yet with Shadow Stalker, Glory Girl, and even the occasional Ward he encountered on the street, he merely knocked them unconscious with a singular strike or left without a word. Glory Girl’s powerset might have required him to deal her a few extra bruises, but nothing to the extent he showed the ABB or the Empire.

Could he use this to his advantage? Insufficient data.

Yet again, however, the monkey replied in a manner opposite that, not by disparaging his actions, but with a mere shrug and dip of his head. “Wise words. A truly great warrior never allows the shackles of scripture to deny his choices in a fight.” The corners of his lips twitched upwards. “What you should ask yourself, armored one, is whether or not you will have enough tricks?”

Plenty.

The rocket boots ignited again, launching Armsmaster with blinding speed. He spun his halberds in a flurry of stings and swipes, weaving through Wukong’s parries and attacking every opening he could spot. As the sounds of steel rang in the air, Colin had to begrudgingly admit: his earlier assessments of Wukong’s prowess with the staff were woefully understated. He wasn’t just skilled; he was a master. No inch of the staff was left to waste, either by blocking his moves or clanging against his armor. Every pointless flourish kept him away, a slight graze meant destabilizing his balance, and each time he ducked under a swipe, his kinetic sensors screamed from the force behind it. While he was confident in his armor’s ability to handle high-level Brute strikes, the sheer strength behind the swings alone would knock him back and put him at a disadvantage.

Such finesse couldn’t be the result of powers alone. But if a cape of his skill was active for years, how come Watchdog didn’t find any trace of him? 

Two more strikes failed to connect, but they forced Wukong to grip his staff in front of him. A graphene blade extended from his halberd’s tip and he slashed at the staff, trailing sparks as metal scraped metal. The blade, no thicker than an atom and capable of slicing titanium like butter…left only the faintest of scratches.

Metallic alloy of unknown composition. Scanners indicate a high percentage of iron. Black coloring is possibly the result of oxidation. Other elements…scan failed, anomalies detected. Treatment and creation likely the result of tinker power. 

Armamster frowned as the scanner’s results flashed before him, fed from the nano-sensor embedded within the tip. The staff’s tinkertech nature wasn’t news, but it still left more questions unanswered. Did Wukong create the staff himself, or did he acquire it through other means? There weren’t many tinkers who could create materials strong enough to withstand monomolecular graphene, and there’d still be at least some damage. But barely a nick? Based on regular iron, no less?

Energy signature detected.

The hydraulics in his suit roared as he jumped high, right above the staff that extended through where he once stood. Wukong vaulted toward him, fangs bared with bloodlust and claws unsheathed. The moment he was within arm's reach, Colin thrust a halberd forward and a burst of air exploded from the tip, striking his opponent square in the chest. His eyes wide, Armaster took a microsecond to revel in Wukong’s stupor before activating the PRT commlink.

“Phase 2, open fire!”

The neighborhood erupted with the staccato of gunfire and the spraying of liquid. Anti-brute rounds battered Wukong as he landed, with containment foam expanding all around him. Wukong was a blur of black and brown outlined with gold, deflecting bullets left and right and dodging the jets of foam. But the onslaught Armsmaster had prepared beforehand was proceeding like clockwork; the storm of bullets and foam was too much even for parahuman senses, and the moment he would try and summon those clones of his, a few seconds' worth of opportunity would open. If that happened, Armsmaster was ready.

He meant every word he said to the monkey-man: one way or another, Wukong’s antics would end today. 

And just as he predicted, a stream finally coated the back of Wukong’s mane. He barely had time to reach for it as more liquid foam coated his body and expanded until a gigantic bubble of yellowish foam stood in the middle of the street.

“Cease fire!” Colin shouted into the comms. He heard the order being relayed to the rest of the troopers, and the heavy noises of firearms left the scene as echoes. But even as soldiers smiled and discreetly bumped fists, Armsmaster readied his halberds again, preparing a specially-treated graphene needle. The tip hummed and crackled with dangerously high voltage, enough to kill an elephant thrice over.

Because if his predictions were correct…

A clawed fist punched through the foam, causing the rooftop soldiers to shout and ready their weapons. Chunks flew and shattered against the asphalt as Sun Wukong began to tear and claw his way through the makeshift prison. Thunder and cordite returned in full glory, impacting Wukong even as he shrugged them off. But their ineffectiveness didn’t matter. Because the moment a round exploded against Wukong’s face, Armsmaster seized his chance.

Cranking up his hydraulics to full power, he charged right into the center of the storm…

…and thrust the weapon into Wukong’s exposed sternum. 

He jerked in place and convulsed, the flow of electricity seeping through Colin’s halberd and into his skin. A strangled cry escaped his mouth and Colin held back the welling of satisfaction in his stomach. Both needles held firm; one for the super-taser and the other for the paralytic seeping into the bestial cape’s body. A mental command to his scanner displayed a quick scan of Wukong’s vitals. 

‘A few seconds more should do the trick. I calculated the precise voltage and cc’s of paralytic needed to shut him down. Lung served as a good benchline, but it won’t be long now before we can transport him to the high-security cells until -’

Hold on. 

The X-rays…they weren’t working. An electric discharge, even of this caliber, shouldn’t have disrupted them. But he couldn’t even see bones.

‘Where are his organs? There’s not a trace of real flesh. His fur is real, but the follicules are almost nonexistent. All I’m reading here is…stone?’

Suddenly, he felt himself being pulled forward. Switching off the scanner, his visor returned to full view…as he stared right into the gold-and-red eyes of Sun Wukong, crowned with an absolutely feral grin.

Before he could react, Wukong flung him to the side, sending him crashing into a wall. Silencing his alarms, Armsmaster groaned and slowly got up as Wukong tore through the last remnants of his foamy trappings. He stared at his arm for a moment before slowly turning his gaze to his staff and clenching the fist that held it.

“All teams,” Armsmaster barked into the comms. “Open fire and do not -”

“STOP!”

Gold flashed across the sky. Following Wukong’s outstretched finger, it took all of Colin’s remaining control for his jaw to stay locked as the entirety of the PRT team, on the rooftops and hiding behind windows, was enveloped in a golden haze. Their faces and stances frozen in time as a Chinese character shimmered above each of their heads.

‘The Chinese character for ‘stop’...Glory Girl mentioned that he somehow stopped her movements…but to affect multiple people simultaneously as well?’

“Much better!” the cape exclaimed, idly dusting his robes free of pieces of foam and dirt as though they weren’t subject to a military-grade barrage. “These riff-raff were amusing the first time, but a monkey’s face can only endure so many insults before action must be taken!”

He then turned to Armsmaster and his grin stretched wider, causing his canines to glisten with saliva. “You are a cut above the rest indeed! Atrocious manners and misplaced priorities aside, you possess a flair for tactics on par with the Heavenly Generals! This Old Sun commends you on the mastery of Venerable Sunzi’s teaching, for you have implemented them like few others!”

Sunzi? Sun Tzu? Oh great, more theatrics.

“But for all my chatter about manners, I must apologize. You have taught me so much in this fight, and I have yet to impart a single lesson!” Wukong jumped away and landed atop a telephone pole, then stared at his staff and raised it high. “And while the delivery was rather rude, you have offered me the most intriguing of gifts!”

The air slowly began to hum. Car lights and store signs flickered with increasing frequency. Spark flew from the fuse box on the pole he was perched on. Armsmaster’s visor flashed with more alerts, each one bearing the same warning.

Ambient electricity levels in air exceeding normal baselines…climbing to 25% above normal levels...35%...65%...warning, high risk of electrocution without proper protection. RECOMMENDATION: Evacuate all non-cape personnel. Initiating armor insulation protocols.

Wukong brought his staff down, and it burst into a flare of light. Bolts of blue flew in from all around him, even trailing up from the cape’s body himself, pouring into the staff. Seconds later, the hum of electricity almost drowned Colin’s speakers as coiling streams of lightning ran up and down the gold-tipped staff.

Current reading: WARNING: LETHAL VOLTAGE.

Even though he maintained his stoic gaze, Armsmaster resisted the urge to swallow. Because if the theories on Wukong being a Trump were true…

…then he needed a new plan, stat.

-x-

Lightning. 

The celestial arrow.

Since the first clouds shrouded the earth, mortals looked above and trembled in awe at the searing-white horns that descended from the clouds, splitting the darkened skies. Their awe transformed into joy as the first rains descended shortly after, and lightning was heralded as the bringer of crops and bounty. When evildoers and yaoguai preyed upon the masses, the Mother of Lightning, Dianmu, marked them with shimmering mirrors for her husband, Righteous Leigong, to strike down with his thunderous hammer. Should a mortal dare cross the boundaries of Heaven and Earth, the lightning of heavenly tribulation would smite them where they stood. Had Wukong not mastered the 72 Transformations at his master’s behest, his newfound immortality would be rendered moot.

Yin and yang in equal measure. Herald of salvation and damnation, infused within a single act of nature.

A manifestation of pure celestial power, beyond the Five Elements, wielded only by the privileged few. Apart from blue-faced Leigong and his wife, only the Dragon Kings with their calamitous storms and the sworn swords of the Jade Emperor could claim to wield it.

And these mortals have birdled it to their will.

Sun Wukong slowly spun his staff around, watching as streams of blue and white coiled around the weapon. His hands tingled with every stray spark, yet the novel sensation did not slacken his grip. An ashen scent tickled his nose, waxing and waning with every second the newfound energy flowed.

‘This requires greater focus than my previous experiments. There is no appliance to direct the flow, save my own qi, containing it around the staff.’ He swiped the air and a blue trail arced behind the staff’s golden tip. ‘Wild and expanding…certainly a challenge, even for masters.’

He diverted his gaze toward the armored hero, who’d pulled himself out of the new indent on the building’s side. ‘A blustering brute, he is not. There is a heaping of pride there - I’d be a fool not to recognize it - but tempered with a tactical acumen belying his appearance. To damage the Ruyi Jingu Bang, even with a tiny scratch which already faded…Old Sun, do not underestimate him.’

Above Armsmaster’s head, his apparition warped with riotous frenzy. Spoked wheels spun at blinding speeds, shrinking and aligning into endless patterns. Each new wheel differed from the last: new patterns, the number of spokes, the size…even the minute details only his Golden Eyes could spot.

‘An arsenal of a hundred stored within his armor and some spears…he doesn’t produce them on the spot, but prepares them in advance. A smith more than a shaper. Heh, the old tiger would love to sit down and swap trade secrets with him.’ He spun his staff again and pointed it at the hero. 

“There is no shame in surrendering. Unlike the false long and his ilk, I will leave you be if you promise to do the same.”

“Fat chance,” the hero retorted, pulling out another halberd from his armor. “You think I didn’t plan for this? I’m not leaving without you in a cell.”

‘Ah, the classic bluff. Too bad, my blue-clad adversary, but hatchlings cannot pull the wool over this Old Sun’s eyes. At least you hold your composure better than the pig-faced girl who preyed upon my disciple.’

He sighed, the smile on his face betraying any hint of true remorse. “Very well, if you insist on this path…” 

Thunder clapped, and in a blur he stood before the hero, staff held high.  

“Then be it far from me to disappoint!”

Staff struck spear, and lightning engulfed them both. A chorus of chirping and sparking pops rang out with each strike as they resumed their dance. Wukong stole the advantage and held it as he assaulted the ‘hero’ with a barrage of strikes, each one discharging searing blue flares. His opponent handled himself well, displaying skill by dodging and diverting his attacks as much as possible. Yet Wukong could tell his rapid attacks and electric discharges were doing their damage; a shaky limb, a delayed reaction, even a flaming boot took a breath longer to activate. However his armor was enchanted, it was no divine construct, and thus had its appropriate limits.

He swung his staff and, with a mental command, the Ruyi Jingu Bang expanded to the width of a tree trunk. Just before the weapon could knock Armsmaster into the next province, a glowing blue shield popped out of his gauntlet and he somersaulted over the staff, with the shield taking the brunt of the blow, enough to prevent most of the damage. Yet the arc of lightning that followed the swing flared and blew him back. Shrinking the staff, Wukong saw that the coils of lightning had vanished, and he felt little trace of the massive well of energy he’d absorbed.

‘Hmm…yes, that’s what this Old Sun expected,’ he thought. ‘Channeling and generating are different realms of skill, and I have no aptitude for the latter. If I were on the road with Master Tang, I would have to conserve my use of this newfound power.’ He barely had to glance to see a streetlamp shining above him. ‘How fortunate I stand in an orchard rather than a barren plain!’

Wukong smacked his staff against the lamp and pulled. The bulb and the ground under it lit up with sparks as electricity coursed through the metal and around his staff, enveloping it once more. Sending a pulse of qi around the staff, Wukong’s lips twitched downward as the lightning flailed against his will for a second before it settled into a proper flow.

‘Temperamental as well. Not a power to be used lightly, indeed. Lady Dianmu has my infinite respect for mastering it. Considering her attitude toward me when I first joined the Court though, her domain matches her personality rather well.’

The groaning of his newest sparring partner drew the Monkey King from his musings. He stared at Armsmaster as he drew himself up and extended his halberds, the tip of the left one vibrating faster than a dragonfly’s wings. 

“A resilient one, aren’t you?” Wukong called out. “I don’t suppose any more calls to surrender would be effective, would they?” He pinched his robes and brought them up, showcasing a spot Armsmaster had previously stabbed. The only hint of damage was a faint indent in the cloth. “I must book an appointment with my seamstress to repair these elegant robes. So if you would kindly come to a decision, this Old Sun is certain karma shall repay you.”

The man’s jaw set and he ground his teeth. Ah, there was the pride! With a wordless snarl, he thrust his other halberd forward. An orange ball was released from its tip, sailing toward him. Wukong tilted his head and the ball passed by him, barely grazing his mane before exploding into foam behind him.

…well, he did intend for him to pay for that nasty little shock.

“Alright then.”

With a quick step, Wukong appeared before the hero and rapidly jabbed his staff in his direction. Armsmaster leaped back, but arrowheads of lightning shot out of the golden-hooped staff, hammering against his blue armor. Each shock elicited a grunt from him, yet he still pushed through the pain and stabbed at Wukong. Sidestepping, Wukong extended his staff and Armsmaster jumped high into the air, evading his attack yet again.

‘Keen instincts. Or is it something else?’

Before the armored warrior could pull another trick from between his plates, Wukong pulled his arm back and threw the staff in a wild spin, the speed forming a discus of lightning. Armsmaster summoned his shield again, but Wukong dashed as the weapon struck true, grabbed the staff midair and swung at the hero, sending him careening down the street. With another step, the world blurring past him, Wukong lashed out with his tail and wrapped it around the man before pulling him closer. A strangled cry erupted from Armsmaster’s mouth as Wukong kneed him in the stomach and tossed him high up in the air. A mental command later and the staff extended, almost rivalling the electric pole in height.

From behind the translucent visor, Armsmaster’s eyes widened as he desperately tried to right himself for a defensive posture, but Wukong knew he’d caught him off guard. The moment the hero’s flailing body was level with Wukong’s eyesight, the Monkey King unleashed a rain of fists, each one cracking the blue chestplate with the sound of an avalanche. Every time the blow would’ve sent the man flying, Wukong’s tail pulled him back in. Finally, when the man’s armor was on the verge of resembling crumpled paper, Wukong hopped in the air, grabbed his staff and raised it high, the heightened weapon now radiating with the force of a storm. 

And thus, down came the thunder.

The ground trembled. Windows shattered. Birds cawed in alarm as their sight momentarily left them.

A gust of wind cleared the smoke, revealing the outcome to all. The soldiers who ambushed him remain frozen on the rooftops, untouched by the shockwave. Armsmaster, the proud warrior who conjured a foolproof plan for victory, now lay groaning in a scorched crater, his fabled armor rendered useless. Beside him, his halberds lay broken and fizzling.

‘Quite the blow, Old Sun! An ounce of strength more and his ribs wouldn’t even hold up his skin!’ Wukong thought, rising from the ground unharmed. He walked over to Armsmaster’s broken body and looked over the damage he’d dealt. ‘Remarkable armor indeed. A shame his pride could not bolster his protection.’

He knelt down and gently prodded the man’s head with his staff. “Can you hear me, or did this Old Sun rattle your brain too hard in that bone cage?”

Another groan was his reply, yet Armsmaster’s head shifted ever-so-slightly to angle his visor right at Wukong’s eyes. Had he possessed divine eyes, Wukong was certain he’d be dead on the spot.

As if.

“I tip my head to you in respect, warrior. Your cunning and prowess on the field are worth commendation. I’ve heard whispers of your prominence among the ranks of the local so-called heroes and I can assert that your actions live up to the stories.” He tilted his head in amusement, gauging the limited response Armsmaster could give.

“However, your dogged pursuit of me and my disciple is proving rather annoying and disruptive to both her routine and the lives of the common folk here you claim to protect. The soldiers have the barest shred of discipline and composure. I would suggest reevaluating their positions amongst your ranks if they deem harassing shopkeepers a legitimate response to inquiring for my whereabouts.” His voice hardened and he shook his head. “But if your ignorance or willful malice blinded you to the torment your own disciple inflicted upon mine for months, I should hardly be surprised. The actions of a master reflect on those under him as much as they do upon him.”

Reaching out, he grasped Armsmaster by the helm and brought him closer to his face. “So here is my proposal: you leave me to my business and I shall not have to punish you and your men again. Perhaps if you act in a manner befitting of the heroic persona people claim you to hold, and the conduct of your subordinates proves righteous, my disciple shall approach you for assistance. Until then, I encourage you to reflect upon your actions. Are we in agreement?”

Armsmaster groaned, but he managed to straighten himself, ready to relay a response…only for a wave of lightning to flow from Wukong’s hand and stun him into silence. 

The Monkey King blinked, realizing what had happened to the excess electricity he hadn’t transferred to his staff. “Oh dear, I must be more careful,” he said with a hint of sheepishness. “Well, I believe I’ve made my point clear. Let’s try not to repeat this fun yet tedious exercise, shall we?”

He patted Armsmaster on the cheek and gently laid him down. Summoning his staff from its jammed position, he shrank it back behind his ear and turned around. Glancing one last time at the defeated retinue, he idly waved.

“I hope the rest of your day shall prove more pleasant! Don’t worry about your men, the spell will break…in a few hours.”

Kicking the ground, Wukong leapt away from the scene and hopped across the rooftops. When he reached his dear host’s shop, a patch of soot on his ebon robes caught his eye and made him frown. 

“Hmm, a visit to seamstress Xiuying might truly be in order…” he rubbed the patch of cloth between his fingers. “Is there cloth that can mitigate damage from electricity? I’d rather avoid an accidental shock, lest any children be hurt.”

After thinking about the matter of potential padding for his robes, he shrugged and entered the shop. He opened his mouth for a jovial greeting, but it stopped in his throat as he beheld the sight of Peizhi-xiansheng slumping over the counter and mumbling with such incoherence that he’d almost mistaken it for a sutra, and his dutiful disciple staring at his phone on the countertop with glassy and twitching eyes.

“Disciple, is there a problem?”

Taylor jumped out of the chair and sharply turned her head, a kalpa’s worth of emotions cycling through her face.

“Master Wukong…did you really fight Armsmaster just now?”

“Yes, I did. I assume it was witnessed?”

“Uh…we saw the fight on the phone,” Taylor said with a wavering voice. “Someone must’ve filmed it and posted it. When you started to…shoot lightning, Mr. Luo just…” her brow furrowed as she gestured with her hand to the dazed shopkeeper. “Shut down.”

Wukong rubbed his chin. “That is concerning. His odd reactions have never proven so severe. I shall whip up a pot of tea. A dash of ginger will help enhance the flavor. That will surely rejuvenate him!” He made to head upstairs before stopping. “Would you care for a cup as well?”

“A cup?” she asked, before staring at the phone again, sounding more lost than Master Tang in the cliff roads of the mountains. “Um, okay, yeah, tea sounds good. Extra hot. Actually, I might need an entire pot.”

‘Such humor from my wonderful friends! Oh, what an exciting day this has been for you, Old Sun!’