Chapter 187: Meeting With The Monkey
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."
The monkey twirled his staff idly, balancing it on one finger. "You know my name. Good. Saves us time."
"I know more than your name," Zeus said. His gaze stayed even, calm. "I know the path you’ve carved. Heaven defied. Chains broken. Armies scattered. You are not unknown to Olympus."
Wukong laughed, sharp and amused. "So word travels even here. I should start charging for the stories."
Zeus did not smile, but his tone carried no edge. "And yet you come into my realm uninvited. You tear through its cities as if they were empty fields."
The monkey shrugged, his grin widening. "They tried to stop me. I only danced. If marble falls, it’s not my fault the stone is weak."
Zeus stepped closer, the wind stirring faintly around him. His voice stayed calm. "Do you ever ask what happens after you leave? The lives that scatter behind your laughter?"
Wukong’s grin faltered just slightly. His tail flicked harder. "I am not their keeper. Mortals build, mortals break. They’ve done it long before me."
"True," Zeus said, nodding. "But gods choose where they step. And each step leaves more than dust."
The monkey’s golden eyes studied him, sharp, suspicious. "Is this your way of telling me to kneel? To chain myself again?"
"No." Zeus’s answer was firm, without hesitation. "I came to speak, not to bind."
Wukong tilted his head, lips curling into another grin. "Strange. Most thrones want obedience first, words later."
"I am not most," Zeus said simply.
For a heartbeat, silence stretched. The waves below crashed, gulls cried in the distance.
Wukong tapped his staff against the stone. "So what do you want, Sky King?"
Zeus met his gaze. "To understand you."
The monkey blinked, then barked a laugh, tail curling around his leg. "Understand me? Ha! That’s rich. Even my own people call me mad. Trickster, rebel, monster. You want to dig into that mess?"
"I want to know," Zeus said, voice calm, steady, "what it is you chase. What lies behind the laughter and the fights. Because no one runs forever without reason."
The grin faded slower this time. Wukong leaned his staff across his shoulders again, looking out toward the sea. His golden eyes gleamed, but his voice dropped lower.
"I run because standing still means chains. I fight because peace means silence. And silence is worse than death."
Zeus listened, his expression unreadable, but his eyes softer now. "And yet, even storms tire."
Wukong’s jaw tightened. "Better to burn the sky than rot in a cage."
"No cage here," Zeus said quietly. "Only choice."
The monkey turned, squinting at him, tail lashing. "Choice? From you? From Olympus? Don’t dress chains in softer cloth and call them freedom."
Zeus shook his head. "I offer no chains. Only a path. If you wish to fight, fight. If you wish to wander, wander. But do not think you walk unseen. Every step you take pulls others into your storm. That is the truth of gods."
The monkey studied him for a long while, the grin gone now, replaced by something heavier. He spun his staff once, slower than usual.
"You speak plain," Wukong muttered. "No riddles. No threats. Strange for a king."
Zeus’s gaze stayed fixed. "I have no time for riddles. And threats only breed more fire. I came because I see a storm that could burn more than Olympus. And I wanted to hear from the storm itself, not the stories."
For the first time, Wukong was quiet. His golden eyes drifted back to the horizon, the waves breaking far below.
"What if I told you," he said slowly, "that I don’t know what I chase? That maybe I run only because it makes the world feel smaller behind me?"
"Then I would say," Zeus answered, his voice steady, "that one day, you will stop. And when you do, what you stand before will matter more than any chase."
The monkey smirked faintly, though it lacked its usual fire. "And you think Olympus will be that thing?"
Zeus did not flinch. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. That is yours to decide."
The silence stretched again. The wind tugged at their cloaks, gulls cried above, the sea kept crashing.
At last, Wukong clicked his tongue, swinging his staff up to rest on his shoulders. "You’re not what I expected, Sky King."
Zeus inclined his head slightly. "And you are exactly what I expected. But more."
That earned the monkey’s laugh again, sharp and wild, though something softer lingered beneath it. "Careful, old man. Flatter me too much and I might start visiting more often."
Zeus turned back toward the storm that still lingered faintly in the clouds. His voice carried as he stepped into it. "So long as you remember—every storm has weight. Even laughter leaves echoes."
And with a flash of lightning, he was gone.
–––
Wukong stood alone on the cliff, staff balanced across his shoulders once more. He stared out at the sea, his grin returning slowly, though less sharp this time.
"Every storm has weight, eh?" he muttered, tail flicking. "We’ll see."
The waves crashed louder, as if answering.
And the monkey laughed again, though it sounded almost thoughtful.