A year and a half had passed, and the Kunlun Mountains, once a place of intimidating mystery, had become my home.
The thin, crisp air felt as natural as the very breath I took. I had spent this time immersed in training with Lei Kung, mastering the various martial arts he taught me. My proficiency had grown exponentially, and I was now focusing on developing my meridians—the intricate pathways for chi to flow through my body.
The old master had told me I was a natural when it came to chi control and that my energy was heavily biased towards the thundering nature of our family's power. It was a proud legacy I was only beginning to understand, a legacy that felt both exhilarating and daunting.
These past two years had been a blur of hard work and self-discovery. When I wasn't being trained by Lei Kung, I was sparring with Danny. I had come to see him as a younger brother, a constant presence in this strange, new world.
Early on, about six months after we met, the pieces of a puzzle from my past life had clicked into place.
Listening to Danny talk about the powers of the Iron Fist and the dragon challenge, I had a moment of startling realization: Fuck, he's the Iron Fist.
I realized he was the golden-masked and green-shirt-wearing martial artist from that cartoon I used to watch with my friends. The one who teamed up with Spider-Man, a white catsuit woman, a flying guy in a helmet, and a black guy in sunglasses. The discovery was surreal, like finding a character from a movie walking around in real life. It grounded my new reality in a way nothing else had.
Danny, I had learned, was currently undergoing the Challenge of the Many, a series of trials he would have to pass before facing the Challenge of the One and, finally, the battle with the dragon, Shou-Lao, for the power of the Iron Fist.
But I was not worried about him; I knew he would succeed. In fact, because of my constant presence and our sparring, I believe he had grown even stronger than he would have otherwise.
We spent countless hours testing each other, and while I never won, he never had an easy victory either. I may have been technically weaker, but I had a higher pain tolerance and far greater stamina
One evening, after a particularly grueling session, he recounted an incident that had happened a few weeks prior during his trials.He had been in the thick of the "Challenge of the Many," a grueling series of tests where he had to face multiple opponents to prove his worth.
It was more of an ambush than a fair fight. He was cornered in a narrow gorge, overwhelmed by five of the city's finest warriors. His exhaustion was palpable, and his movements, usually so precise and powerful, had become sluggish.
"I was done for, Ryan," he confessed, wiping sweat from his brow. "They had me. I was about to go down swinging, but then… she appeared."
The 'she' he spoke of was a mystery.
According to Danny, she moved like the wind, a blur of motion and grace. She was dressed in simple, gray robes, her face obscured by a veil, but her every movement was that of a master.
With a series of fluid, precise strikes, she disarmed two of his attackers and then, with a stunning display of chi control, sent a powerful gust of wind through the gorge, disorienting the remaining three.
She didn't stay to fight. She simply created an opening and whispered a single word to Danny: "Run."
He didn't hesitate. He scrambled away, looking back only once to see her vanish into the shadows of the gorge, leaving the five stunned warriors to their confusion.
"She saved my life," he said, his voice full of awe and gratitude. "I've never seen anyone move like that. It was like watching a dance, a deadly, beautiful dance."
My relief for him was immediate, but it was quickly overshadowed by a gnawing worry for the woman he described.
I had come to learn that in Kunlun, the rigid social order had a particular cruelty for women.
Martial arts was considered a man's domain, a sacred tradition meant only for them. And while women were not explicitly forbidden to practice, those who did were often punished severely.
"Did you see who she was?" I asked, my voice low.
He shook his head. "No. Just the gray robes and the veil. But the way she moved... it was like nothing I've ever seen. She was more skilled than all five of those warriors combined."
"Be careful, Danny," I warned him. "If someone finds out... both of you could be in a lot of trouble."
He nodded solemnly, understanding the danger. The incident served as a stark reminder that even in this mythical, isolated city, there were hidden forces at play, both good and bad, and rules that were meant to be broken by the truly exceptional. I hoped she was alright.
Though honestly, I wasn't that worried about Danny's part in all this. I'd come to recognize a pattern in his life—a force that bent reality to his favor, a phenomenon I could only describe as "protagonist luck."
He survived a plane crash that killed his family, only to be found and brought to a mythical city of monks. He wasn't chosen by some prophecy; he simply stumbled into a destiny that was waiting for him.
The ambush in the gorge wasn't a random act of violence; it was a plot point designed to introduce a key character.
This veiled woman, his mysterious savior, wasn't a coincidence either. She was a deus ex machina, a crucial piece of the narrative puzzle placed there at the exact moment he needed her.
Since Danny's path was paved with the kind of fortunate events that only happen to heroes in stories, jokes aside I knew this was real life but there was not much I could help him with as I was forbidden by Old man Lei.
I believe things would work out for him somehow.
He would face his challenges, win his battles, and become the Iron Fist, not because he was the strongest, but because he was the main character of this part of his story. For me, however, my story was still unwritten.