YES, IT IS I! Here with more MONKE!
You know, the drill, read, review, moo, yodelayheeohoo.
Huge thanks to TrajectoryAgreement, starlit and storybookknight for betareading!
The rich Tang ruler issued a decree,
Deputing Sanzang to seek the source of Dhyana.
He bent his mind to find the Dragon Den,
With firm resolve to climb the Vulture Peak.
Through how many states did he roam beyond his own?
Through clouds and hills he passed ten thousand times.
He now leaves the throne to go to the West;
He'll keep law and faith to reach the Great Void
We shall now tell you about Tripitaka, who, on the third day before the fifteenth of the ninth month in the thirteenth year of the period Zhenguan, was sent off by the Tang emperor and many officials from outside the gate of Chang'an. For a couple of days his horse trotted without ceasing, and soon they reached the Temple of the Law Gate. The abbot of that temple led some five hundred monks on both sides to receive him and took him inside. As they met, tea was served, after which a vegetarian meal was presented. Soon after the meal, dusk fell, and thus
Shadows moved to the Star River's nearing pulse;
The moon was bright without a speck of dust.
The wild geese called from the distant sky,
And washing flails beat from nearby homes.
As birds returned to perch on withered trees,
The Dhyana monks conversed in their Sanskrit tones.
On rush mats placed upon a single bunk,
They sat until halfway through the night.
- Journey to the West, chapter 13
If anyone asked Armsmaster if he was an emotional man, he would answer in the negative, and they'd agree. It served him well and kept him composed, and as a Tinker hero in the Protectorate, composure was key. He preferred to do his tinkering in the seclusion of his lab, where he could devote the entirety of his efforts to his creations. Improving his gear, crafting better weapons…emotions were unneeded for these acts. While others would despair at setbacks, he'd persevere, adapt, and continue his work. If you keep a cool head, you can solve any problem. A mantra he repeated to himself every day after his Trigger.
"The PR department is flooding my phone with calls, and I have officials and news crews seconds away from breaking into the building and tearing out tongues. I've had to cancel three different meetings, Renick is scrambling up and down this rig putting out fires, and I'm this close to declaring a state of emergency. I'm going to ask this just this once. What. The. Hell. Is. Going. On?"
Times like these were solid proof of how useful this mindset was. Otherwise, he would have driven either his fist or his head through the nearest wall several times over by now.
"The short version? A disaster on almost every level."
Director Piggot bit her lip as she pressed her fingers to her knuckles so tightly they looked ready to sink into her hand. The Protectorate heroes sitting around bore worried looks, glancing at either him or the director. Even Triumph was present, despite his transitional status between a Ward and a full Protectorate member. He would help deliver the news to the rest of the Wards after the meeting.
"I think we'd appreciate the long version," said Miss Militia. "Maybe that will explain the growing riots outside our doors."
At the director's nod, Colin inhaled and typed a command into his gauntlet. "A little more than an hour ago, we received multiple calls from the BBPD and civilians about a cape attack at Winslow High School. I was closest to the scene, so I moved to intercept."
Light filled the room as the main viewscreen flared to life with images of panicked students being directed out of the school by teachers, taken directly from his helmet camera. Despite the wave of teenagers gushing from the entrances, no signs of damage were present on the outside of the building beyond its dilapidated state.
"One of the teachers outside told me a cape had broken into the school and was attacking a student, so I called for PRT backup and headed inside. I went up to the floor of the attack and encountered the cape in question…along with this."
The feed changed, and the breath of everyone in the room hitched. A few feet away, down on one knee, was none other than Sun Wukong. A name that was slowly becoming synonymous with 'headache'. In front of him was a girl, likely a student, her face obscured by her long hair. Four golden wings were attached to her back and jutted out into the wall behind her. Through the high-quality audio processors, her faint breathing filled the room, tinged with the sound of crumbling. Yet it was neither the girl nor the monkey-faced cape that drew the majority of the heroes' shock; rather, it was the strewn black teenage girl lying before Armsmaster's feet.
"Is that…Stalker!?" Triumph stood up and stared with alarm at the now-paused feed.
The armored hero's mouth pressed into a grave line. "I confess, I couldn't formulate a clear picture of the situation at first, so I tried to defuse the tension by getting him away from the girls. This is what he had to say."
He unpaused the video, and the ensuing conversation played out, each word causing the director's jaw to clench tighter.
"You have some nerve, issuing demands from me when your disciple instigated this whole mess and attacked this poor girl."
"Disciple? Then you admit to attacking and unmasking a Ward in front of civilians?"
"Well, there was no mask to remove…"
"Holy fuck," whispered Velocity with wide eyes as the video continued. "Did he just…?"
"I'm pretty sure he did," Assault nodded, matching his expression. Piggot's phone rang, but she slammed the mute button and kept staring intently at the screen. The other heroes followed suit, and their microexpressions and tense muscles betrayed their understanding of the gravity of Wukong's act.
"After his confession, I attempted to contain the situation by offering to escort him to PHQ, but he laughed me off and prepared to enter hostilities."
Velocity tilted his head as Wukong quickly stopped the cape girl from falling over and cradled her. "Who is she?"
"According to the few testimonies I've gathered, her name is Taylor Hebert. I will return to her in a moment." Armsmaster took another breath and resumed. "I asked him to let of the girl so I could send her for treatment, but he refused again. I ordered the PRT troopers present to advance, but he took her and left the building before they had a chance to act."
"Yeesh, talk about a dramatic exit," muttered Assault as the monkey smashed open a hole in the wall and leaped through it with the girl in his hands. With the press of a button, the feed froze on the image of Wukong landing on a rooftop.
"By the time I called Velocity to give chase, I lost him. I ordered the PRT troops to search within a ten-block radius just in case. After that, I stayed to help with the relief efforts and coordinate with the police. Shadow Stalker is on her way for treatment at Brockton General, but she should be fine. From my initial diagnosis and from the paramedic on-site, she was merely knocked unconscious."
Militia exhaled in relief and nodded. "Good to hear. I'll pay her a visit as soon as she wakes up."
"I'll join you," added Triumph. "We can figure out a plan to detain Sun Wukong after that. We can't let this attack go unnoticed."
Instead of replying in the affirmative, Armsmaster's frown grew deeper. The heroes noticed his silence and slowly turned to him, their unease breaking through whatever facade of calmness they tried to maintain.
"There was something else, was there?" Piggot stated, her eyes narrowed and teeth bared with high restraint. "Otherwise, it wouldn't feel like the whole building is about to collapse on us."
A slow breath escaped his nostrils, and he felt as though his gauntlets had tripled in weight. Not one part of this situation was ideal - hell, it was a disaster no matter which way one examined it - but the PRT could still maintain a semblance of control if the events were limited to just what his helmet camera showed.
If only life were that easy. And life went through a meat grinder in Brockton Bay.
"I'm afraid the director is correct." He tapped another button on his gauntlet. "Not long after, I was forwarded an amateur video that was uploaded online. The poster is likely a student who was present at the scene before I was called in to help."
The screen lit up again, this time with Wukong grappling a startled Sophia Hess. Next to them was Taylor Hebert, lying wide-eyed on the floor. Students were gathered in the background, staring at the scene with all the excitement high schoolers could muster. A redheaded girl spoke to Wukong, saying it was a misunderstanding, before Wukong laughed and insulted her. Armsmaster frowned at Sophia's attempted threat; he understood her position wasn't ideal, to say the least. Did she not understand the situation she was in? Better to lower tensions than threaten a known and dangerous cape, especially when she wasn't in costume. He saw Triumph gripping the table and Militia's eyes narrow as Wukong slammed her against the wall and spoke in his raspy tone.
"That way, the scales will gain balance, and we can all go on our merry way. Or is that too much for your brutish little mind to comprehend?"
"What does he think he's doing?" hissed Triumph with disbelief. "In front of kids and in a school to boot?"
"When exactly did you get the call?" Battery asked, prompting him to check the timestamp in his helmet display.
"The call was routed to me 95 seconds after it was made…so my estimate is around this moment in the video. When Shadow Stalker's civilian name was mentioned, I doubled-timed it."
Wukong pulled back to slam Stalker again…and a hush settled over the room as she phased through his arms. This was the part that caused an icy cold to wash over Colin's bones.
Stalker phased again and turned to run, but Wukong suddenly turned translucent and dashed over to strike her on the neck, instantly knocking her out, all within the span of a second.
"Since when could he do that!?" Battery exclaimed.
"This wasn't anything he showed before," muttered Colin. "Breaker three - no, four. A shadow state like Stalker's that can interact with other Breaker powers. Trump maybe?"
Whispers broke out in the video's background, and just as it looked like it couldn't get worse, bright lights exploded from the Hebert girl's form and caused the video to saturate. A faint wisp darted toward the light, but then the feed blurred, and the last few seconds showed students running down the hallway, including the phone holder.
The video cut to black, and the silence reigned even stronger. Despite his composure, Armsmaster could feel his teeth grinding unconsciously.
"You weren't kidding," Assault weakly muttered, eyes still on the screen. "Total disaster."
Piggot remained silent, her facade a Roman statue. Even so, her lack of words spoke volumes.
Triumph violently rose from his seat and looked utterly murderous, even through his helmet. He barely took three steps when Piggot halted him in his tracks.
"Sit down, Triumph."
He whirled at the director, his hands grasping at air. "Sit down? He outed Stalker as a cape! Not only that, he did it inside her school, in front of her friends! No one does that! And thanks to that video, the whole city is gonna know! Not just the gangs and the Nazis - every criminal who has an axe to grind with us is going to come gunning for her head!"
"Yes, we saw that," she bit out, her fingers tightening over her knuckles. "But the last thing we want is to act like idiots and pour more fuel on this firestorm, so sit down."
He bit his lip, and for a worrying moment, Armsmaster thought he would have to physically restrain him from leaving. Thankfully, the teenager took a deep breath and slowly returned to his seat.
"Our top priority now is to mitigate the fallout. I need interviews with everyone at the scene and a full timeline of the incident. Teachers, the principal, students, the redhead who spoke to Wukong - they're all on the table. He said Hess attacked Hebert? Full investigation into her, her handler, and anything that stinks even the slightest. I want to know exactly why a cape thought it was a good idea to barge into a school and attack a student, and why said student thought it was a good idea to bully her classmate."
"You don't actually believe him?" Triumph asked, looking back and forth between the screen and the director. "I mean, Stalker can be a bit…aggressive, I won't lie, and she's had problems before, but I don't think she'd actually bully someone! If anything, this guy's even more suspicious than what he's accusing her of!"
"Oh?" Piggot raised a heavy eyebrow. "Care to explain?"
"The guy kicks Glory Girl and Lung to the curb, then muscles in on a Ward? It's a power play. He's shown off what he can do, established a territory, and now he's challenging anyone who wants to stop him. What better way to do that than by attacking a PRT cape?"
Armsmaster pursed his lips as he mulled over Triumph's words, which drew narrowed eyes from the rest. While there was logic to what he was saying, and he agreed with him on the fact that this was a rather blatant power move, there were rather noticeable holes in his theory.
Fortunately, the director saw those holes as well.
"You're forgetting one thing: Nothing in the video proves Wukong knew about Hess and her identity as Shadow Stalker. Hess used her powers while fully aware that people would see her. That wouldn't normally be a problem; she felt she was in danger, and she reacted accordingly," said Piggot. She nodded to Armsmaster, and he replayed the footage. Wukong was antagonistic to Hess, yes, but he didn't spot anything that could hint at his knowing of Shadow Stalker. Anything overt, at least. His lie detection software didn't go off, although he wasn't sure of the cause. Was Wukong really truthful, or did his simian features fail to trigger the program? He'd dissect the footage down to the millisecond in his lab later.
"The issue is the accusation itself. I know her record, and the accusation of bullying isn't far off from how she's behaved recently: excessive force against non-capes is just one example. I tolerated it this far because she got results, but if that behavior led her to this, then she's in hot water. If anything, I'm tempted to read her the riot act myself, but that can come later. We need a full grasp of the situation if there's any chance of minimizing the blow. Especially since it led to what looks like a very public Trigger Event. Am I wrong?"
Armsmaster shook his head. Not only was Shadow Stalker outed as a cape, but so was Taylor Hebert. Even if people didn't recognize her right away from the video, gossip and hearsay would do the job.
Piggot pinched the bridge of her pudgy nose and sighed. "Fantastic. Has the girl's family been informed?"
"The only relative listed is her father, Daniel Hebert, head spokesman of the Dockworkers Union. I sent over a PRT squad to the Union HQ for protection, and they're waiting to give him the rundown."
"Good. First thing you do after this is head over to him. You were the only cape on the scene, so you'll have a better time than anyone. Explain the situation and the need for his cooperation. Maybe we can help smooth this over before the Union decides to involve itself."
At his nod, Piggot continued. "In the meantime, we ask BBPD to send an APB looking for the Hebert girl. I don't want another freshly Triggered cape with some kind of beef with a Ward running loose." Assault opened his mouth, only for her to swiftly cut him off. "This isn't an arrest; I want the police to notify us the moment they catch sight of her so we can bring her to PHQ quietly. That way she won't run headfirst into the arms of a gang, and maybe we can clear some of this mess up with her and the father. Militia, the moment Stalker is awake, she is to stay within HQ boundaries and not talk to anyone beyond this room and the Wards unless I give the explicit go-ahead. I want her monitored at all times and her family in protective custody. That should deter the paparazzi and any lynch mobs trying to bite off a pound of flesh."
"Done," replied Militia. "She'll try to sneak out, you know that?"
Piggot gave her a thoroughly unamused look. "Either she stays put in the base, or I help her get secured in a cell. Tell her I'm not picky. This goes for the other Wards as well. I don't want them getting any funny ideas."
At Militia's unperturbed stare, she continued. "Now we need to address the general reaction. The PR department will have to work overtime to see what parts we'll have to confirm, what we can spin, and what parts we can hide from the public. Which, to be frank, isn't much for the last two. That video has the potential to deal us more damage than any failed gang bust or cape fight. I might have to ask Glenn Chambers for help." She uttered the name with venom. The feeling was mutual with Colin; the PRT's head of image was a…grating individual. "And we'll have to deal with the Youth Guard on top of that, those uptight…" she inhaled and hissed sharply.
"I'm more concerned about the E88," Velocity said. "A black teenager who happens to be a Ward, accused of bullying a white girl? They'll have a field day, parades and all. I'm surprised we haven't seen one of Kaiser's rallying speeches yet."
"If he does release something, he'll do it by tomorrow at the latest, but there is a sliver of chance he won't," Armsmaster replied. He didn't look up from his typing, even as the other heroes looked at him questioningly. "Mind you, the odds are still low; this is too much of a golden opportunity for the Empire to ignore, but the whole intervention is thanks to Sun Wukong, who is either of Chinese ethnicity or heavily influenced by Chinese culture. That puts a dent in any recruiting pitch Kaiser might plan, unless he wants to answer some awkward questions from his supporters."
"Isn't that a reach?" Assault frowned. "One, he might find a way to omit that fact, and two, he's a villain. Those don't usually care for opinions."
"Maybe, but we'll take what we can get at this point," Battery replied, holding her helmeted head in one hand, "and Kaiser has the other Empire capes to consider."
"Agreed. We're in full crisis mode now; one slip-up could cost us everything we've built over the past years. If you're not patrolling, then your asses are here helping to snuff out this clusterfuck."
Armsmaster nodded again and finished typing his notes. Tinkering in his lab would have to wait, but it was unavoidable. He was about to close his holographic keyboard, but instead hit one last button, and the screen flared to life. "Before we move out to our respective assignments, there is one final issue to address."
Even when he wasn't looking at a camera lens, that monkey still looked insufferable.
"What are your suggestions?"
If the hush from before was quiet, now it was deafening, layered with an ever-growing tension. Triumph bit his lip hard and struggled not to leap from his seat again. Piggot bared her teeth, and her nails almost dug into the wooden table. Colin didn't fault their reactions; if the blame for the disaster could be laid at anyone's feet, then Sun Wukong's were the first ones that came to mind.
"I want a warrant out for his arrest."
Colin and the heroes turned to the director all at once. Was she really going through this?
"The official reason is that he broke into a school and assaulted a minor, and kidnapped another one. But it's like you said, Triumph. He unmasked one of our Wards in public, and that cannot fly, no matter the reason. If we stay silent, every cape in Brockton Bay is going to attack both you and the Wards in your sleep. They'll think we've grown too soft, or that we'll start doing the same thing to villains. One way or another, they'll pick their reason and use it to escalate attacks against the PRT and the general populace."
"And it's not just the criminals inside the city we'll have to worry about," Militia whispered, her eyes widening with every word. "If there's enough incentive, we could have criminals from outside the city rushing in. Butcher might even send the Teeth from Boston to claim back old turf."
"And even if we wanted to, we can't return the favor to him because Wukong doesn't even have a mask," said Assault, and then he chuckled. "Not that it would do him any good. That tail is a dead giveaway."
Piggot sent him an unamused glare and focused on the picture of Wukong, leaning on the table and hiding her mouth behind steepled hands.
"Armsmaster, had Wukong chosen to engage in combat, how would you have fared?"
The armored hero rubbed his bearded chin in thought. "It's hard to say. If we're talking strictly about raw physical strength, he easily has one of the highest Brute ratings in the city. I'd rate him between five and six, as evidenced by his defeat of Glory Girl and Lung. But other than that…I still feel like we're not getting the full picture, or at least something we can properly use. The only full fight we have of him is against those ABB gangsters, and compared to the opponents I mentioned earlier, that was child's play."
He forced down the flush of rage as he remembered how Wukong mocked his halberd, as if some random cape knew anything about how much time and blood he poured into his weapon. The monkey was skilled, he acknowledged that much, but the insult stung deeper than he thought it would.
"Then you'd better go over every scrap of footage we have of this cape. We won't get caught off guard by his antics again." Director Piggot slammed her hands on the table and became the proverbial center of the room. "Do a full search of the city. Start with the Asian district and ask everyone who's seen or heard of Wukong walking around. We know it's his favorite haunt and he has a thing for entertaining the local children, so I'd bet a year's salary that's where he'll be hiding. Armsmaster, I assigned you this case first, so you'll remain in charge of it. Make it clear that there's no refusal; either he comes with us peacefully or in the back of a PRT van."
As she spoke, Armsmaster clenched his fists, a tingle rising up his spine. He'd wanted to find Wukong beforehand but was sidetracked with patrolling and putting out the fires after the cape's stunt with Lung. His earlier observations were spot on; Wukong's concerns for escalation and collateral damage were nonexistent, and if he kept it up, he'd end up doing more harm than good.
More than that, Wukong's actions gave them all a black eye that would take years to recover. Even in other cities, no one ever let a Ward's civilian identity get outed as a cape. If that happened, what would it say about the heroes mentoring them? Incompetent, they'd say. How can we trust him with more responsibilities if he can't protect his trainees?
No more. This time, the full might of the ENE PRT branch was coming after him, and he'd lead the charge. He needed to reach out to Dragon, see if she could spare more drones for the search. And when he found him, he'd show the monkey-man exactly how good he was with his halberd.
"Let me make one thing clear; our collective asses are on the firing block here. We're running two fronts - against the public and against the villains. We inspire the former and throw the latter into prison. We can't let either of them drag us down, or else this city goes kaput. We'll need full patrols, a press conference, and all PRT troops at full readiness if we want a chance of even starting to fix this mess. You'll have a lot on your plate, but it's necessary for now. But the moment you get the chance…"
She rose from her seat and pointed to the smiling image of the monkey.
"Find Sun Wukong!"
Of all the first impressions to receive when waking up in a strange place, the first one that came to Taylor's mind when she slowly opened her eyes was…ordinary.
Dark paint faded with age, a single ceiling lamp, and a small crack showed the wooden beams hidden beneath. She squinted at specks of dust flying against faint rays of crimson sunlight. Her palms twitched, and the sensation of linen pressed against them. A slight tilt downward revealed the thin blanket lying over her.
'Wha…what happened?'
Reaching groggily to her face, Taylor adjusted her glasses so they sat comfortably on the bridge of her nose. With a dried-out huff, she forced herself to sit upright and look around. The walls were in a similar state to the ceiling, with a layer of dust coating the length of the baseboard. A closed window hung behind her, letting the meagre sunlight through cracks in its shutters and right onto a featureless door.
'Emma, Sophia, Madison…they were all laughing at me…there was yelling…a lot of people…and something hit me…'
She tried to dig deeper and untangle the mental cobwebs, only to get a splitting headache as a reward for her efforts. Holding back a string of curses, Taylor shook her head and gripped the blanket tightly between her fingers.
'I-I was at school, yeah, in the hallway…then how did I get here?' She looked around the room again as confusion further muddled her dazed head. 'And where is 'here', really?'
Concern began to trickle into Taylor's mind. She had no idea what this place was, and her memories were scrambled. She checked under the covers, and to her relief, she was still wearing her clothes and jacket - even her shoes were still on her feet. A small comfort in a clearly concerning situation, but a comfort nonetheless.
'Still, Brockton Bay is the last city where you want to wake up in a stranger's house.' Her gaze settled on the door, and she felt her stomach twist. 'Okay, calm down, calm down. I should see what else is here…I mean, who'd even want to kidnap me?'
It wasn't the best idea at the moment, but it felt better than sitting around and waiting for…something to happen. Ignoring her body's protests, Taylor pushed herself up. With a measure of trepidation, she approached the door and pressed the handle, bracing for failure…only for it to give.
'Huh, unlocked? Barely closed even.'
The door creaked open, and she winced at the sharp noise, her body freezing up. After a few seconds of silence, she mustered her breath and fully pushed the door open. The hallway was bare, with plywood floors and more faded paint. Three doors lined each side of the hallway, with a picture hanging between two of them. The entrance in front of her was half-open, revealing a white-tiled floor reminiscent of a bathroom. A staircase lay on the opposite end of the hall, extending upwards and downwards.
Taylor lifted her glasses and rubbed her eyes. 'Okay, so there's no exit…this is getting better and better. Maybe downstairs?'
She was about to take one more step when her nose picked up an unusual fragrance. It wasn't overpowering like the expensive perfumes Madison boasted, but instead it smelled herbal…and was that whistling from a kettle?
It came from the opening right of the staircase, and more sunlight streamed through it.
Wetting her chapped lips, Taylor felt her mental impulses warring. Alarm bells were going off in her head, if only because of how peculiar the situation was. Trying to recall what happened to her still hurt her head, and for a moment, she envisioned herself as a fish, swimming towards a juicy worm on the end of a hook. On the other hand, her throat was drier than a desert, and the smell was incredibly enticing. The last time she ate was the crappy lunch at the cafeteria, and…how long ago was that? How long was she out of it?
'I'm nuts…yeah, that's the only explanation. Desperate too.'
Taking a deep breath, Taylor slowly walked toward the open door, bracing for whoever or whatever was lying in wait behind it. She reached the side and peered over to see a small kitchen with -
What.
Her eyes felt like popping out of her skull. Were her hands less clammy, she would've lost her grip on the wall.
A completely justifiable reaction to Sun Wukong, clad in ashen robes, sitting on a chair and being poured a cup of tea by an unknown man.
"Qīn'ài de zhǔrén jiā, zhè guǒrán shì chá xiāng sì yì, qìnrénxīnpí! Hēle júhuā chá, wǒ zhè lǎo gǔtou kě zhēn nuǎnhuo qǐláile." [1]
The memories, held by a thick fog mere minutes ago, began flashing before her eyes in HD.
"Xiè la, kě wǒ háishì bù míngbái nǐ wèishéme zhème xǐhuān wǒ de chá. Sū-jiě kěyǐ yòng gèng chà de huā pào chū gèng hǎo de chá." [2]
The taunting, being pushed down, the brush - oh god, the stupid little brush - Sophia's poisonous barbs dripping in her ear, her superiority so obvious now that she knows the big and ugly truth, and then…
And then…
"Húshuō a lǎoxiōng! Lǎo sūn bù míngbái nǐ wèishéme zài shìshí miànqián hái yào jiānchízhe qiānxū!" [3]
He saved her. Sun Wukong, the monkey-faced cape who beat up Lung for dinner, saved her.
The monkey-man turned to the door and his smile grew into a joyous grin. "Ah, it seems we have an honored guest, awoken from her well-earned slumber!" He waved at Taylor and patted the table. "Come, come, sit and drink with us!"
True enough, a spare chair was parked next to the small table, and an empty cup rested on the spot in front of it.
She turned to the man, who stared at her with visible surprise before offering her a small, yet shaky, smile of his own. He was an adult, no doubt about it, with cropped black hair and slightly chubby cheeks, and stood a head or two above her, holding an old teapot.
Her legs trembled, and she forced herself to swallow. Her mind was almost totally blank, focused only on that innocuous teacup on the table. If she allowed herself to think any further, she'd throw up. So, with monumental effort, Taylor detached herself from the wall and shuffled over to the offered seat, never taking her eyes off her two…hosts, she supposed. Once she sat down, the Asian man poured a good portion of tea into her cup. The floral scent from before hit her sinuses full-force, and she was briefly reminded of her mother's old teas, the kind her dad only used during her birthday. It was…homey, for lack of a better term.
Taylor gingerly grasped the teacup in both hands, letting the warmth travel through her palms. It was a tad stinging, but she discovered she didn't care much. The hardness of the ceramic, the scent of the tea, the warmth flowing into her body; it was grounding, reassuring her that what she remembered maybe wasn't a dream…with all the good and shittiness that came with it.
Holding back the shaking in her arms, Taylor took a small sip of the tea. The liquid scalded her tongue at first, but the floral and mild sweetness of the tea quickly washed down her throat.
"Um…thanks," she said, though it came out as more of a squeak. Was she that parched?
"So she speaks! I must say this Old Sun has had quite an interesting day with you, my dear," Wukong chuckled and took a sip from his cup. "I am thankful that my paltry treatment helped you. My dear host was quite nervous when he glimpsed your condition, but I assured him you were a strong one."
"Host…?" she asked, turning to the man.
"Hm? Amitabha, where are my manners?" Wukong then twirled his palm and gestured at the man. "This is my dear friend, Peizhi Luo. He owns the humble shop below us and has agreed to host me during my stay in your fair city."
"Oh…you're staying here?" She kept her stare on the man - no, Peizhi, she'd have to get it right - and tilted her head.
'I don't know what I expected for his…hideout…But I don't think anyone guessed that he was staying in someone else's home.'
"Yes, and he has been ever the gracious host. I did not wish to disturb him with your condition at first and asked him for the nearest healer, but he acquiesced and allowed me to place you in my room as you recovered.
'So he brought me here from Winslow…but why? How? When was this!?'
Slotting the new information into her messed-up timeline, she dipped her head while clutching the teacup. "Um, thanks again…for the bed. And the tea. I'm sorry if this bothered you."
Peizhi blinked and shook his head. "It's- It's nothing. I admit, I was really confused when he brought you here, but when he told me a little about your situation, I couldn't just ignore it."
Taylor goggled at his admission. He didn't know her; she was a total stranger, even if she was brought here by a cape who he'd been hosting. Why would he let her stay here?
"And with our help, you are awake and hale! Although…" Wukong leaned forward and rested his chin on propped knuckles, his tone dropping into a gentle rasp. "My fears are paltry compared to the turmoil which you endured. How do you fare right now, young one?"
Taking another sip of tea to try and calm her fraying nerves, Taylor bit her lip as the mind-numbing revelation played once again in her mind's eye.
"...it all happened, didn't it? It wasn't a dream." Or a nightmare; she hadn't decided which one fit better. "Sophia…was a hero all this time?"
Wukong snorted in derision. "Hmph, anyone who takes their frustration out on the helpless and undeserving hardly deserves any such title." He then sighed. "Alas, that was no dream."
Her breath hitched as she lowered her head. Tears slowly welled up in her eyes as the trembling, momentarily alleviated by the tea, returned without mercy.
"They knew…all this time, they knew…" she whispered. "The p-principal, th-the teachers, E-Emma…they all knew." A near-hysterical laugh bubbled out of her. "No wonder no one stepped up. Emma b-blindsided th-them, turned everyone in the school against me, and fucking Shadow Stalker herself p-probably took care of anyone who spoke up."
Taylor's grip on the teacup tightened, and the tears began trickling down her cheeks.
"It didn't matter what happened to me. Emma could say she was friends with a hero, Blackwell could say she hosted and taught a hero. All they had to do was m-make me their…punching bag." She bit out the last words with such force she thought blood would spurt from her mouth.
Goosebumps tingled along her skin, and a stinging sensation prickled her back. Something rustled behind her, but she didn't care because all she could see was that abyss opening under her feet, jumping at the chance to drag her down until there was nothing left.
It wasn't fair, it wasn't fair, why, why, whywhywhy-
"Peace, Taylor, peace."
Everything froze as she felt a gentle grip on her arm. Blinking some of her tears away, she turned her head sideways and met Wukong's red eyes. Looking closer at them, the outside of the pupil was ringed with gold, and there was so much compassion in that stare she had to stop herself from sobbing again.
'When was the last time anyone looked at me like that? Not through me like Dad. The Trio looked at me when they wanted to make my life miserable for their shits and giggles.'
She sniffed and quickly nodded. "I'm-I'm fine now, you can let go."
Wukong nodded and withdrew his grip. She almost reached to wipe her face when she realized she was still holding onto the teacup…
…which, by how strongly she was gripping it, was really hot.
And was that a crack?
"Fuck!" she hissed, quickly placing it on the table and rubbing her hands along her shirt. She blew on her fingers a few times for good measure, and once the pain was manageable, she quickly looked up to see Peizhi staring at her with even more confusion than before.
God, if you're there, just kill me now.
"I-I'm so sorry," she muttered and ducked her head again, the shame causing heat to pool in her cheeks. "I don't know what came over me. I-I can pay for that if you want to-"
Wukong laughed and threw his head back. She lightly glared at him, but he didn't seem to laugh out of malice. And…the laugh itself wasn't grating like Emma's.
'It sounds like…bells.'
Fortunately, Wukong must've seen her glare and waved placatingly at her. "Forgive this Old Sun's outburst, dear Taylor, but you do not need to worry. I suspect that reaction was a long time coming. When considering these rather troubling revelations, no one here blames you for such a minuscule outburst."
"It's just a cup anyway," Peizhi added with a reassuring look. "I can always get a new one."
Taylor nodded reluctantly, then leaned back in her chair -
"Agh!" She swiftly turned around…and felt her jaw drop.
Golden leaves, dancing in the wind. They shimmered for a few seconds and flew around the room before fading into nothingness. A sharp pain drew her attention behind her, so she looked over her shoulder and saw…more of those golden leaves?
Her left eye twitched, and she felt her throat dry up as though she'd never sipped any tea.
'I…I have powers? I'm a cape?'
She shifted herself to get a better look at whatever the hell was growing out of her back when they swiped at the back of the wooden chairs, leaving scratch marks.
"Oh shit!" she leapt out of the chair and. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry! It just- the things came out and-"
Wukong appeared in front of her in a flash, grasping her by the shoulders. "Dear girl, breathe. You are scared and confused, and rightly so, but I need you to calm down. Repeat after me: breathe in…" he took a deep breath.
"And breathe out." He exhaled on her, blowing away a strand of hair from her face. "Can you do that?"
Taylor hesitated at first, her thoughts still bouncing around like a washing machine. She wanted to scream, yell, anything that would provide explanations. It was only Wukong's grip and his piercing gaze that pushed those impulses to the side.
So she did as he instructed and drew air into her lungs. Breathe in…
Release. Breathe out…
"Again," he said.
Breathe in…
Breathe out…
Breathe in…
Breathe out…
Once the third breath left her lungs, Wukong nodded. "There. Feeling better now?"
No. There was still so much she wanted to ask. Even so…
"A little."
His smile twitched and he pulled back, releasing her shoulders. "I suppose that is good enough progress." He looked her up and down and stroked his furry chin. "Hmm, perhaps fresh air will help. The feng shui in your institution was horrid and I doubt you enjoy the sensation of being stuck inside four walls. Peizhi-xiansheng, do you have a coat the lass can borrow? It wouldn't do for the evening chill to sink its fangs into her skin."
Fresh air? Yes, fresh air sounded great.
Peizhi grimaced at the cape's request. "Um, Wukong, I'm not sure that's a good idea. What if-"
"It is fine, this will help her." Wukong turned to the man and bowed from the waist. "I apologize for these inconveniences, but the girl is my responsibility. I shan't shirk her off to anyone else unless she wishes it. To that aim, I require your help, and I swear upon my honor I shall reimburse you for any offense you might have taken from this."
'Wow,' thought Taylor as she took in the peculiar scene before her: a monkey wearing robes, bowing to a man in a collared shirt holding a teapot looking like he saw a fish tap-dance. 'Why did I think of that analogy? Okay, what the hell is my life right now?'
Peizhi stammered silently, his gaze flickering to her on occasion, but eventually, he sighed through his nose and put down the teapot. "I think I have something that fits her. I'll go get it."
He left the room, and Wukong turned to her again. "He is a virtuous man, my host. A bit odd-mannered, but his heart is in the right place. I shall have to think of a way to thank him."
Taylor bit her lip and took another quiet breath. A breeze from the open window flew in and made her shiver. At once, Wukong grabbed her teacup and held it out.
"Drink, lass. Your nerves need calming."
She gently took the teacup from his hands and ran a finger over the crack she'd caused, causing another rush of shame to run through her. 'It's not as hot as before…'
Nonetheless, she did as the monkey asked and finished drinking the tea in big sips. The flavor was still present, and she felt the chaos in her head settle somewhat. She was almost done when Peizhi entered, holding a small puffy winter jacket.
"I don't know if this'll fit, but I used to wear it as a kid."
Muttering a quick 'thank you', Taylor grasped the jacket and slipped it on. Wearing an adult's clothes felt weird, but it was much warmer than her shirt.
'Why am I feeling nylon on my back?' She shifted the coat around her until she realized the problem and swallowed a groan. 'Great, my clothes and my jacket have holes in them. Wait, did they see anything?''
Actually, the coat was perfect.
"All better now?" Wukong asked. At her nod, he clapped his hands. "Splendid! Let us be off!"
He headed out the kitchen door, and Taylor wordlessly followed him. They headed down the stairs, and she was soon treated to the sight of, just like he said, a shop. Kitschy was the first word that came to her, seeing the Chinese knick-knacks and toys lined up on the shelves. Lucky cats, masks, banners, even a few kites. Thankfully, no one else was present to see her or Wukong.
'Huh, is that an Alexandria figure?' The happiness she would've felt from seeing one of her favorite heroes felt muted, obligatory even, rather than from any sense of joy.
Wukong opened the door and they stepped into the empty street. The streetlights were on, and sunset was slowly giving way to night. From neighboring windows, she heard faint sounds of conversation and chatter. A cool wind blew down the streets and made her tighten the coat around her.
"Would you take my hand?"
She blinked as Wukong held out a hand to her.
"Um…why?"
He saved her, that was true when no one else did, but she couldn't help but rely on age-old instincts she learned from the school of hard knocks. A stranger - he saved you he's not a stranger - offering to take her someplace she didn't know? Red flags all around.
"I want to show you something. Besides, if venting your frustration is still in your plans, it would be rather awkward if we woke up the neighbors with our inconsideration, no?"
Good point.
It still rang a few alarms, and the voice that tried its best to keep her sane throughout the horrible days at Winslow screamed at her not to trust him; he was using her like the rest and would throw her away like trash.
And yet…
'Maybe just this once…I can take a chance.'
She pushed the voice away back into the dark and took his hand. His smile morphed into a grin, and suddenly he pulled her close to him and hefted her legs up.
"W-wait, what are you-"
The monkey laughed. "Do not fear, young Taylor, this will be a short trip!"
Taylor opened her mouth to protest again, but Wukong bent his knees…and they soared.
Forcing her mouth shut to stop herself from screaming, Taylor closed her eyes as she felt the air cutting her face. Every other second, a thud rocked her in Wukong's arms.
This is what trust gets you!
Then, they stopped.
"Open your eyes, dear girl." Wukong's raspy voice called out. "Deep breaths. You have nothing to fear."
Inhaling and exhaling over and over, Taylor drew in the little courage she had left and opened her eyes, staring right into Wukong's grinning face.
"Look over yonder," he said and gestured with his head. She turned her head…
And felt her breath taken away.
They were on a rooftop, she realized, several stories high. In front of them was a park, one of the few scattered through the city. It was the size of a small block, with grass, faded-paint benches and worn-down paths. Right next to them, a tree towered over the park, its leaves swaying in an unseen wind. All around them, she could see other roofs and the glass skyscrapers of downtown reaching for the twilight sky. The sun had fully disappeared from the horizon, and the moon and stars were shining from behind the clouds against a slowly darkening sky.
And the lights. So many lights. From streetlamps, from homes, from neon signs. None of them felt clogging or messy, but instead, they appeared almost kaleidoscopic. Under their bloom, the grass seemed to shine with an emerald hue, the wonderful aroma of oil and bread from the little bodega in the corner was tantalizing, and the chitchat of the couple walking down the street while holding hands sounded like little drops of water.
This is…
She didn't think it was possible to see something like this in the city.
Brockton Bay was a shit place to live in and one good kick away from collapsing into a sinkhole. Her dad knew it, she knew it, even the criminals knew it (which was why they were there). If she asked any Brocktonite on the street, they'd tell her the same thing.
Yet it was her home. Her mom's home. And those same Brocktonites would share the sentiment. More than once, she asked her dad and his friends at the DWU why they didn't leave after creating the Boat Graveyard. There was nothing left for them.
It's our home. We're not gonna leave it just because it looks bad now.
She didn't understand then. Hell, when she asked herself the same question, she'd answer the same thing, but how much of that was reflex, out of stubbornness not to abandon the only home she'd ever known?
What was worth sticking around for?
But now, looking at the lamplit skyline, with the tree a green canopy in a sea of concrete against the rising moon, despite knowing the awful reality they hid…
This was home.
Maybe there was something in that answer.
"I hardly believe it at times," Wukong commented, snapping her out of her musings. "That mortals could accomplish so much through ingenuity alone. Then I come to the rooftops and see this…" he chuckled and shook his head. "Oh, this Old Sun is blessed to witness such wonders."
Wonders…was that how he saw it? And what did he mean by 'mortals'?
Wukong let go of her feet and gently put her down. She yelped as her feet got reacquainted with the ground, but she managed to balance herself.
The cape put his hands on his hips and nodded with satisfaction. "A much better view than a kitchen, no?"
"Um, y-yeah, I guess." She looked around and rubbed her forearm. "What now?"
"Now? Well, I reckon that you desire some answers. Tell this Old Sun what you wish to know and I shall reply to the best of my ability."
No kidding.
She bit her lip and braced herself for whatever came next. "What happened?"
Two simple words. Out of all the questions threatening to burst out of her skull, it was the simplest one that she managed to voice.
"What happened, indeed." He stroked his chin hair again. "How much do you remember?"
"...most of it," she grimaced. "I remember the Trio up to their usual shit again, and this time they…broke the brush you gave me…ah shit, the brush!" She dug through her pockets, but to her dismay, she couldn't find the broken fragments. "I swear, I know I still had the pieces -"
"Ah, so you enjoyed my gift?"
Taylor clammed up and ducked her head. "Y-yeah. I was looking up how to paint with it, but I never got the chance to actually use it."
"Yes, I saw the punishment they doled out to the poor little brush. Whatever insult did it give to warrant such injury?"
Taylor couldn't help but giggle, even if it turned sarcastic. It made me happy.
"But you should not have been deprived of a chance to draw." Wukong plucked a hair from his head and blew on it. Just like last time, the hair flashed gold and turned into a brush.
"I do not recall the exact shape I used, but I only hope this token effort alleviates your loss."
"Uh…"
Words failed her as she took the offered brush and ran a finger along the polished wood. He just…gave her a new one, like that?
"Th-thank you. Thank you so much."
"No trouble at all," he replied with a wave. "Now, you were saying?"
"Right, the Trio. Sophia was about to attack me, and then…you came. You saved me."
The words still sounded absurd as she said them.
"You mocked Sophia," she continued. "Emma tried to lie again, but you didn't let her. You called her out on her bullshit, in front of all the teachers and the students..." She bit back a curse and gripped her forehead. "How many were there?"
"Hm, a couple dozen at least…so I wager your whole school knows by now. Gossip can shame lightning with its speed, I'm sorry to say."
Well, if the day couldn't get any worse, then she was proven wrong.
Taylor pinched her nose and forced herself to breathe, if only to tear off the band-aid. "Okay, that's great. Wonderful. So you grabbed Sophia and wanted her to say sorry…fat chance of that ever happening. And…then she used her powers."
She cursed herself and Sophia for the umpteenth time, and how neatly the puzzle pieces fit. How she could get away with everything, how she seemed so cocky, the bitch.
"She was a hero this whole time…" she muttered.
"Oh? You mean you didn't know she was empowered?" Wukong asked.
Taylor's head shot up and looked at him. "No! No, I had no idea that Sophia was Shadow Stalker! It makes so much sense now, but there was no way I could have known that beforehand."
"So the scroll grows ever longer…" he muttered. "I would imagine your peers would be thrilled to have a self-proclaimed 'hero' among their ranks and boast about it to all who would hear."
"That's the thing; no one is supposed to know about a hero's real identity." She wasn't a cape fanatic like some of her classmates, but this was basic knowledge. Why did he look so surprised? "But I know the teachers knew, that Emma knew. She must've told them. And yeah, they were real happy to have a hero as a friend."
Wukong huffed and shook his head. "When an honored disciple graces their presence, why bother with mere commoners? The same story repeats itself over and over, and then people are surprised when karma strikes true. Continue."
Taylor furrowed her brow and tried to remember past that horrid truth. But there was one problem.
"I don't…I don't know. It's all blurry from there."
And the crazy thing was that she knew something else had happened. But whenever she tried to remember, all she got was static.
"The next thing I know, I'm on that mattress."
She looked at Wukong, who stared at her while still rubbing his chin and tapping his foot. He mumbled under his breath, but she couldn't make heads or tails of the words.
"You are positive you remember nothing else? That you witnessed the brutish one reveal her true colors and then find yourself in the bedroom?"
Mentally laughing at the title he gave Sophia - Brutish one, she had to remember that - Taylor shook her head and gripped the brush tightly. The cape stared at her for a few more moments before nodding.
"Your memory is indeed spot-on. The reason why you failed to recall anything is that you passed out right after I administered some discipline to the brutish one. I could not leave you in good conscience to suffer interrogations and tribulations after such shocking news, so I brought you here."
Fainting in the school hall…she shuddered at the thought.
Yeah, maybe it was a good thing he took me. If Emma or any of the teachers found me…
She didn't think they'd kill her. At least she hoped not. But they might threaten her not to spill, or they'd go after her dad -
"Dad!"
He didn't know. No, he must've heard by now. Are they going to arrest him? Did they look through her house? Her journal, chronicling every misery the Trio inflicted on her? They'd throw it away, they'd come after her, go after Dad, who was still broken by her mother's death and didn't pay attention to his daughter anymore -
Hands fell on her shoulders again, and Wukong's red eyes stared into hers. "Breathe, young Taylor. Remember what I said. Breathe in, breathe out. You will be of no help to your father if your panic controls you."
Breathe…okay, she could do that. She closed her eyes and breathed in and out, in and out, in and out…was something poking at her back?
Oh right.
Throwing the jacket off, Taylor looked over her shoulder. Sure enough, those golden scales returned, and they were spawning from her back, extending outward and outward until they reached a couple of feet away. No longer little scales, they now resembled giant golden wings.
She had powers. She had powers.
"When? How?" she asked in disbelief.
"Right before you fainted. It gave your peers quite the scare," he replied, still holding onto her shoulders. "Relax. I swore to you no harm would befall you while I'm present, and I do not break my word easily. Your powers cannot harm you. Release your frustrations, and they will disappear."
Trigger Event. A term she frequently saw on PHO, over evenings spent on the computer. Capes got their powers through a Trigger Event. Was that what happened to her?
Wukong's raspy voice, reminiscent of bells, pierced through the fog. She kept inhaling and exhaling, and soon enough saw that the scales were detaching themselves from her back and flying in the air. Within a few seconds, her back had returned to normal, and the air around them was filled with motes of golden light.
She remembered her old summer camp, before Emma had decided to ruin her life. How they spent nights in the woods and caught fireflies, when she actually felt happy.
'They look prettier,' she thought, staring at them dancing.
A gentle shake pulled her back to Wukong's smiling face. He looked her up and down before asking a question that made her freeze on the spot:
"If you don't mind this Old Sun asking…why did the brutish one and her minions target you?"
…
…out of all the things he could ask…why this?
And why was he the only one to ask?
"If you do not wish to speak, that is fine. It is inconsiderate of me to open what is certainly an old wound."
"...no, it's…I have to say this."
So Taylor told him. All about Emma and the friendship they once held, once even calling each other sisters. How, after her mother's death, the world turned grayer. Her friendship with Emma was the only thing that kept her from breaking. Then, one day, her dearest friend backstabbed her, turning everyone, teacher and student alike, in the school against her, leaving her at the tender mercy of her new tormentors. Trashing her locker, tripping her in the hall…nothing was spared if it could make her life even the slightest bit happy.
"They broke my mother's flute…" she whispered, her voice on the verge of breaking out into sobs. "Just like the brush. Emma knew how important it was to me, but that didn't stop her."
No one believed her; they called her a troublemaker. The one time she involved her Dad, nothing was proven, and the pranks grew worse.
The only thing she could do was take the blows and endure…just until she left.
"But it doesn't matter, does it?" she cried, the tears finally breaking through. "Even if I did try something…it would never have worked."
Nothing she'd try would matter. Compared to a hero, Taylor would never matter.
Before she knew it, more than three years' worth of frustration, sadness and misery, starting at her mother's death and culminating at today's events, came spewing out. She sounded nasty; a dying dog sounded nicer than her. Her eyes were waterfalls and her glasses felt like they'd fall off any second. Her back tingled again, but she couldn't bring herself to care. The only thing keeping her from sinking to the floor was the firm hold Wukong had on her shoulders.
She didn't know how long she stayed there, crying. It felt like hours, but it really couldn't have been more than a minute or two. When the sobs finally died down, and she dried her eyes, Wukong was still there, with the same comforting smile.
She almost broke down again.
How could a monkey look at her with more kindness than any person she'd met?
"You have indeed endured a great deal, young Taylor," he said, his fingers massaging her shoulders. "A betrayal can be worse than any injury or disease, for it is the very soul that becomes wounded. Flesh can heal, bones can mend, but the spirit is not easily fixed." Every word sent warmth through her chilled body, much like the tea she had drunk earlier.
A breeze flew by, and the scent of a forest tickled her nose. And…it was a brief moment, but she felt…lighter.
"I have seen greater men succumb to despair over far less and end up paying the ultimate price. The fact that you are here and with us is a feat worthy of songs. Take pride in that, and know you are strong."
…god, he sounded so corny. But she couldn't stop her treacherous lips from curving up.
She wanted to relish in that moment, to know that one person actually listened to her and believed her, but like always, dark thoughts reared their ugly heads.
"The PRT is going to come after me, aren't they?"
Wukong's smile dimmed and he withdrew his hands, to her frustration. "I imagine they won't take kindly to one of their own being humiliated in such a manner."
She grimaced and hugged herself. "What am I gonna do? I don't know if I can even go back home. The PRT's probably got their hands on Dad, and they're waiting for me to show up so they can haul me off to prison. Maybe even the Birdcage." She glanced at him with worry. "And they're going to try the same thing with you."
"Possibly," he replied and shrugged. "Let them try; I shall grade them on their effort."
Taylor blinked at the sheer nonchalance he showed to the prospect of being hunted down by an entire branch of the PRT - I'm dead, I'm dead - but continued.
"And then there's the gangs, the police, the whole city, they'll all come gunning for my head." She clutched her head and felt her knees start to give way. "What am I going to do?"
There was no escape. She didn't even know if she could leave Brockton Bay now. Everyone would be watching the roads, and it was only a matter of time before she found herself in a cell or at gunpoint before a gang leader. Maybe even Kaiser, the fucking Nazi bastard.
More golden scales began to fly around her, scattering in the air above them to the choir of her incoherent mumblings. A scream began to build up inside her, but Wukong's voice snapped her out of her stupor once again.
"What do you want to do, young Taylor?"
She slowly turned to him, confused. 'Didn't he hear me just now?'
The cape shrugged and pointed at her. "Indeed, the current state of affairs is not ideal. You thought the whole world was against you then? It is nothing compared to now. But I ask you to disregard these troubles for a single moment and answer me this: what do you want to do?"
No answer came to her.
'What do I want?'
Some part of her wanted to run away. To forget about the city, and start somewhere else. She had a grandmother in New York, maybe she could work something out. It was a sensible thought, it was a logical thought.
But…
This is my home.
Taylor stared at the great tree and its swaying leaves. She stared at the park, spotting a young couple walking hand-in-hand. She saw the skyline, not of the skyscrapers and glass towers, but of the lights shining through windows and the distant chatters and laughter.
This is my home.
A golden light floated in front of her. She remembered how she accidentally damaged Peizhi's poor chair. Raising her arm, she watched as the scale floated down and touched her palm. It didn't cut or hurt her; instead, it stayed until the wind blew it away.
I have powers.
Was running away what she really wanted?
This is my home.
"...I want to help."
Wukkong raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Elaborate on your words for this Old Sun."
Swallowing her protests, she took a deep breath and began to speak.
"...what happened to me, never should've happened. What Emma, Sophia and Madison did to me, and the fact that the school covered it up is fucked up on so many levels I can't even count them. I couldn't do anything back then. But now that I can do something…" she willed herself to continue; she'd come this far, and she wouldn't let it slip. "I want to help people. I want to make sure no one ever goes through what happened to me. It's a stupid idea, and maybe I should find a way to leave. But no one else is going to do it, I've seen that much now, and I wouldn't be able to look at myself in the mirror again, knowing that I could have helped and did nothing instead."
Her fists clenched as she stared at Wukong, who remained impassive.
"Screw the PRT and screw the gangs, they're not getting their hands on me. This city needs help, so why not me? If I can help someone not feel helpless like I did for over a year, so that no one would come and save me…then that's all I need."
Just like how you helped me.
Seconds stretched, and Wukong kept staring. Inwardly, Taylor began to panic. Was he going to laugh now? Call her stupid? She knew that, but that's what he asked for. And it wasn't going to stop her from -
His grin returned, sending a rush of warmth through her.
"A fine goal, dear lass. Worthy of any legend. And I have no doubt you will succeed."
The stupid smile kept trying to creep up on her, and this time, she let it. He believed in her. Sun Wukong, the crazy monkey-man who'd rescued her twice over, believed in her.
"But, forgive this Old Sun for asking, what is your plan for this newfound quest?"
…
…shit. She really didn't think this through.
She stammered, trying to come up with at least a starting point: a hideout, a costume, money, anything that could help, when he guffawed again with a hand on his ash-stained robes.
"I admire your enthusiasm, but rushing out there will only land you in a pile of bones and behind iron bars."
"W-well, what about you?" she said. "They won't let you go that easily."
He paused and rubbed his mouth again, humming as his tail swayed behind him. Then, his lips twitched in an almost teasing manner.
"It is written that Venerable Laozi - or was it the Buddha? I don't recall - once said, 'when the pupil is ready, the master appears.' I believe I have a way we can both help each other."
Taylor tilted her head. "How so?"
"Simple: while my dear host Peizhi has taught me much about your city, I feel he is lacking in perspective. I want you to teach me all that you know about the world, Brockton Bay, these supposed 'heroes, ' and everything you deem me worthy of learning. In exchange…" he gestured to himself. "You become my disciple."
Taylor's shoulders dropped in shock. "Disciple?"
Was he…was he offering to…?
"I do not boast lightly when I say that I have travelled the world for many years and have learned all manner of secrets and arts, from combat to philosophy, even magics which bear similarities to your powers. I wish to instruct you in these ways and in the dharma so that you might fulfill your quest and live a long and happy life to tell about it."
Taylor could only stand there slack-jawed, words failing to come to her. Maybe this was a dream?
The breeze from before caressed her face. No, this wasn't a dream.
Here stood a cape - not just any cape, her savior, her hero when no one else came - and he not only admired her goals, but he wanted to teach her?
"...why? Why me?"
He sent her an admonishing yet amused look, as if questioning her sanity for even asking such a question.
"Well, this whole mess is partially the result of my impulsive actions, and I offer a thousand apologies for it. I do not regret your rescue, far from it, but I acted with less finesse than what the situation called for. I swore I shall take responsibility for my part in your troubles, and thus I shall."
Taylor frantically moved to interject, to say he owed her zilch, but a raised palm halted her.
"I told you when we first met, young Taylor: I believe, even now - nay, especially now - that you can soar. I want to help you grow your wings…literally and metaphorically, of course. Heh, funny how karma works." He let out a snicker before resuming. "I have an eye for potential, and if you will allow this Old Sun, with the heavens and the earth as my witness…
…you will soar. And all those who laughed at you? They will weep from the ground where they belong."
…It was too good to be true. She had half a mind to refuse; this was her fault, she shouldn't involve him in this mess. She could survive on her own, she'd done it for some time now, in a manner of speaking.
And yet…
She could trust him. He helped her then. He saved her from the Trio, he rescued her from the PRT, gave her food and shelter when the whole city was looking for her. He wanted to help her now.
A leap of faith? A true leap?
The nod she gave was all the answer he needed.
"Excellent," he said, his fangs glistening against the golden lights. "I have a feeling you and I are going to have quite the time together, young Taylor." He balled his fist into his palm and held out his arms. "This Old Sun is honored to have you as a disciple."
She didn't stop the laugh escaping from her lips. In a rather clumsy attempt, she tried to imitate him, holding out her arms with a balled fist. "And I'm…happy to learn from you…"
What she was about to say was corny, but hadn't that been what Wukong had been like ever since she first met him? Corny, but sincere. And she wanted to be sincere about this, more than anything else she'd stepped into.
He really liked those old Chinese kung-fu movies, right? So…was this what she should say?
"...master Wukong."
He let out a bark of laughter. "Hah! It is settled then! I warn you, though: I am a harsh instructor. If you wish to learn from me, it will not be easy or painless. I expect nothing more than your best."
To that, she said one thing, formed by surviving everything the shitty city of Brockton Bay had thrown at her:
"Bring it."
And so it was, with only a willow tree and the moon as their witness, that a master and disciple swore an oath and found their fates bound in ways that neither of them ever expected…and that none of them would ever forget.
Not in a thousand lifetimes…
…and certainly not in this one.
[1] "Ah, now that is the scent of tranquility, dear host! I already feel the chrysanthemum warming these old bones."
[2] "Thanks, but I still don't get why you enjoy my tea so much. Su-jie makes a far better brew with worse."
[3] "Nonsense, dear fellow! It is this Old Sun who doesn't understand why you insist on such humility, even when confronted with the truth!"
Wow!
Here we have it! The Sotapanna arc has come to an end!
A lot to unpack here. Sun Wukong gets declared a public enemy by necessity and a hint of spite, and Taylor finds someone who supports her hidden dream of becoming a hero. The last part was very emotional for me to write. I even had music playing in my head as I wrote. There's gonna be a heap of interesting developments, both emotional and awesome from here, I guarantee you.
I'm also taking a week's vacation to China, for food and research purposes of course. I hope to come back enlightened and inspired!
A round of applause to Trajectory for providing the translations. There's a reason beyond the aesthetic for this, which I will reveal later.
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