The mountains lay quiet.
Wukong sat at the edge of a cliff, staff balanced across his shoulders, tail flicking lazily in the wind. Below, the sea stretched endless, waves breaking like white teeth against the rocks. He chewed on a peach he'd stolen from somewhere far east, spitting the pit into the air with a sharp laugh.
"Chase, fight, lecture," he muttered. "Always the same. And still they wonder why I don't listen."
The sky answered him.
Lightning split the clouds, thunder rolling heavy, but not with rage. With weight. A presence stepped through, not hidden, not distant—a man carved of storm and sky, cloak trailing sparks, crown of cloud and flame above his brow.
Zeus.
The monkey's golden eyes narrowed. He leaned back on his hands, grin curling. "Ah. Another throne walker."
Zeus stopped a few paces away, the crackle of his storm dimming until only a faint glow clung to him. His voice came low, steady, no thunder in it. "Sun Wukong."
