There was only one time when Antauri had become agitated. Usually he was a calm monkey, rarely angered, however there were exceptions. Extremely rare exceptions.

Antauri had gone missing. Nobody knew exactly where he'd gone, but Chiro had a feeling that somehow his disappearance was related to an incident at a nearby cafe that they'd gone to a few days ago, straight after a mission.

He could remember the details so vividly as if it had just happened. Two youths had entered the cafe and been tended to by a dark skinned woman. She'd given them exactly what they'd asked for, no mistakes at all, but afterwards they'd refused to tip the woman.

And then had come the abuse. Sexism at first.

It hadn't been their problem at first so most of the civilians had stayed out of it. The monkey team had moved over to try and stop their abuse. Nova hadn't been there which had been good, because she'd have thrown the two kids into the middle of the road had she been, or sent them careening straight into a wall.

And then they'd swapped from sexism to racism. Antauri hadn't seemed bothered by it, his usual dismissive mask plastered over his face like a protective shield, but it'd gone on and on, other civilians becoming involved in trying to push the two youths out of the way.

But then had come the dreaded 'N' word. The one that set him onto a mild, seething, but quiet rampage. One which he tried immediately to suppress.

Antauri had snapped. Tables quivered; glasses, cups and plates exploded where they stood. At first they'd thought it had been a monster attack, but Sprx had heard the telltale snap of wood, loud against the quaking. Antauri's hand had turned into a venomous green claw, his eyes forced closed and jaw set, muzzle wrinkled in the beginning of a snarl.

Everyone had turned to stare at him. Antauri had his unusual, yet unfortunately justified reaction to their racism. Antauri was black; his fur was the hue of a dark starless night, of charcoal without embers that created it. The two youths, one of whom had brandished a knife in self defence against the psychic tremors that wrecked the cafe's sturdy foundations, fled after the dark monkey's furious emerald irises had latched onto the object.

He had literally ripped it out of their hands using just his mind, let it hover in midair for a brief moment before the blade had imploded; or rather, had caved in on itself. A few vicious snaps as the blade was bent, coiling around itself broadside like a silver viper, and then it was deposited on the ground while the wooden hilt of the knife was crushed.

Antauri had taken to breathing deeply and the psychic energy had receded back into the mysterious depths of which it had originated. Then the ebony monkey himself had shoved his salad away and flown off somewhere in silence.

Time had passed with the team in stunned silence, casting knowing looks. Nova had not believed them when they'd started searching for him after the first ten hours of radio silence, saying that there was no way Antauri could have lost his bearings.

And now Chiro was perched atop the Super Robot's head, gazing out over the city, waiting for his beloved mentor to return after a time of solace. He sat out in the freezing cold for three hours but he saw no comforting sign that Antauri had returned to them. No tiny speck of light that announced Antauri was coming home after his vigil to mourn the first ever incidence where he had lost his temper.

When would Antauri come back? Did he want to talk about it? Chiro desperately wanted the black monkey to call in, to let them know he was at least alright. Chiro's blue eyes closed and his sigh melted away into the wind.

And at the same, Antauri, who was prowling through the streets of Shuggazoom City, sighed as well. His green eyes were closed, his body almost invisible, respectively, beneath the cold moon light that bathed his skin. Racism. He hated it. He hated sexism as well, and he was shamed that he'd allowed a lapse in concentration to sway his judgement; to morph his actions into a form of aggression.

And he knew very well, as he stalked beneath the shadows of the alleyways, as his soft black pads moulded over stones beneath his ivory feet, that his teammates had been trying fervently to contact him. He was just too ashamed to reply. In a sense he wanted them to find him, but in another he wanted to be left alone.

"I should have been careful," the dark, slender simian chastised himself bluntly, caring not for his own emotional well being. "I'm meant to set an example for the others, and yet I've allowed my emotions to cloud my judgement, to rule over my actions..."

"Yes," drawled a sick accent behind him. Antauri spun around just in time to be blinded by a furious, white hot light. "You should have..."

"Mandarin!" Antauri roared, wiping at his eyes as the attack had died down. "What... Have you..."

He was punched into the wall and grunted weakly. The beam of light, whatever it had been, was gnawing away at his energy. He wailed in pain as his bones were stretched, his skin being pulled like he were trying to fly with rocks tied to his ankles. The metal of his arms sunk in, his jaws stretched open in a soundless screech.

Then, after a few moments of writhing in a bed of debris and rubble, the evil flame-hued simian stood on his chest. He couldn't breathe.

Mandarin purred with vicious satisfaction. "Perfect. The ray that the Skeleton King created has worked!"

Antauri blinked before he couldn't stave away the tempting darkness that awaited him. As shouts in the distance announced the arrival of the monkey team, clearly roused by the sirens of danger back at the Super Robot, Antauri faded into oblivion...