The cliff was empty again. Only the sea and the sound of wind remained.
Wukong sat cross-legged on the stone, staff across his knees. His grin lingered faint but uncertain. Lightning still crackled faintly on the horizon where Zeus had vanished.
He tilted his head back, watching the clouds drift. "Every storm has weight…" he muttered. His tail swished against the ground. "So says the Sky King. But what does a storm care for weight? It passes, it breaks, it laughs."
Still, the words clung.
He plucked another peach from his sash, bit into it, and chewed slower than usual. The sweetness didn't taste as sharp. He frowned, tossing the half-eaten fruit away.
For once, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven was quiet.
–––
The path down the mountain wound into forest. Shadows stretched long, the air carrying the smell of pine and damp earth. Wukong walked without hurry, his staff balanced over his shoulder, tail flicking side to side.
