As the dust of the exploded mountain settled and the echoes of their battle reverberated across the desolate battlefield, Harry could feel the heat of magic surging in his veins. The fight had been chaotic at first, the raw power from both of them colliding in a blur of destruction, but now it was different. Harry wasn't just reacting to Sun Wukong's attacks; he was studying them, tracking the Monkey King's every movement, every shift in his body. He was learning the rhythm of his strikes, the hidden patterns beneath the chaotic flashes of gold.
Wukong, for his part, didn't seem concerned. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet, grinning from ear to ear as if this were all just a friendly sparring match. His staff, a blur of gold and light, cut through the air in wild arcs, aiming for Harry's head, chest, and legs in rapid succession. But Harry had learned quickly. With a casual flick of his wrist, reality bent around him. He didn't just dodge the blow—he guided the staff away from him, the weapon shifting mid-air like a puppet on invisible strings.
"You know," Harry said with a mock pout, "I was expecting a little more from the legendary Monkey King. What's this? A few flashy moves and a lot of yelling? You're starting to bore me."
Wukong's laughter rang out, a sound like the crackling of thunder. "Bore you? Kid, you're still trying to figure out what hit you! You think you've got me cornered? You're just a boy in a magic show!"
Before Harry could respond, Wukong vanished in a burst of motion. In the blink of an eye, he reappeared behind him, his staff swinging in a blur towards Harry's back. The attack was fast, too fast for the eye to follow. But Harry wasn't just reacting anymore—he anticipated it. He snapped his fingers, freezing time for just a split second, the staff halting mid-swing as if caught in an invisible net.
"Not today," Harry muttered, the air shimmering with his magic. His hand reached out, palm glowing with golden light, and the staff exploded into a shower of golden sparks, disintegrating in mid-air.
Wukong's eyes widened, his grin faltering for just a moment. "What the—?"
Before he could finish, Harry's voice boomed from all directions, as if coming from the very air around him. "Oh, didn't see that coming, huh? Thought I was just some random kid playing with magic? It's cute, really. You're almost too predictable, Monkey King."
Wukong's golden eyes narrowed, and the first sign of frustration slipped into his expression. "You're good, kid," he said, his voice low but still tinged with amusement. "But you still haven't seen anything yet."
With a dramatic twirl of his staff, Wukong summoned a massive storm of golden energy. The wind picked up, the air itself warping as bolts of lightning crackled across the sky. Wukong swung his staff in a wide arc, and from all directions, spheres of pure golden energy rained down on Harry, faster than the eye could follow.
Harry grinned, the rush of the battle pumping through his veins like fire. His body blurred with speed, twisting and bending space itself to dodge the incoming blasts. He moved with a fluidity that seemed almost unnatural, his mind calculating the trajectory of every bolt before it even struck. He shot his hand out, redirecting several of the blasts back toward Wukong.
The Monkey King dodged, leaping and spinning through the air with the grace of a dancer, each movement filled with the same playful energy that had marked their earlier exchanges. But Harry could see it now—the cracks in Wukong's focus. He was still fast, still powerful, but his confidence was starting to slip. His attacks weren't as fluid as before, his dodges a little less precise.
"You've got speed," Harry called out, his voice dripping with mock admiration. "But I'm starting to think you've got more show than substance. Is this all you've got, or are you saving the 'real' tricks for later?"
Wukong's grin never faltered. He spun his staff again, this time creating a whirlwind of golden light that seemed to fill the entire sky. "You're quicker than I thought, but you still haven't beaten me yet! I've got tricks up my sleeve, kid. You can't keep up with me forever!"
With a flash, he disappeared again, this time reappearing in a completely different part of the battlefield, his staff crackling with energy. Harry's mind raced, and before Wukong could launch another attack, Harry split into dozens of golden versions of himself, each one a perfect mirror of the original. The air shimmered with the illusion, and Harry's voice echoed from every direction.
"You know, Monkey King," Harry said, his voice now coming from a hundred different sources, "you can disappear all you want, but I'm starting to see right through you. You can't keep running forever."
Wukong swung his staff wildly, attempting to strike at the golden versions of Harry, but every time he swung, his target was gone, replaced by another flickering image. His golden eyes flicked around the battlefield, his movements growing more erratic as he tried to locate the real Harry.
"You think you're clever, huh?!" Wukong's voice was tight with frustration now, his confidence shaken. "You think you can keep me busy with your little tricks?!"
Harry's form emerged from the golden mist, stepping forward confidently as the illusions faded away. "Oh, it's cute how you're trying to play the 'I'm a god' card," Harry said with a smirk. "But I'm done playing around."
The ground beneath them cracked as Harry surged forward, his fist glowing with raw, concentrated power. Wukong tried to swing his staff to block, but this time, it was too slow. Harry's fist collided with the staff with a resounding crash, and the golden weapon shattered like glass, fragments of golden energy flying in every direction. The shockwave from the impact sent Wukong crashing backward, his aura flickering with every step he took as he skidded across the broken earth.
For a moment, there was silence. The dust swirled around them, the battlefield still. Wukong lay in the dirt, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he slowly pushed himself to his feet. His usual cocky grin had disappeared, replaced by something new: an unwilling respect.
"You're tougher than I gave you credit for, kid," he muttered, wiping a smear of blood from his lips. "Guess I can't take you lightly anymore."
Harry didn't take his eyes off Wukong, his grin widening. "Oh, we're just getting started, Monkey King," he said, the thrill of the fight still humming in his veins. "And trust me, you haven't seen anything yet."
And as Harry raised his hand, crackling with power, the moment was clear: he had the upper hand now. And there was no turning back.
—
The crackling tension in the air was almost palpable, the ground beneath their feet still trembling from the shockwave of their last clash. The atmosphere hummed with raw power, each breath Harry took filled with an electric charge. His body thrummed with the sensation of something ancient, something unstoppable stirring within him, merging with the magic that already coursed through his veins. He could feel it—the shift, the change in the very fabric of the universe around him.
He'd won. There was no doubt about it.
Harry stood tall, fists clenched, and he could feel the magic pulse in rhythm with the beat of his heart. But it wasn't just his magic anymore—it was something more. The energy surrounding him shifted, swirling like a storm, and Harry could feel it aligning with the wild, untamed power of the Monkey King. The power he'd just absorbed.
And then, deep within, that familiar, dangerous sensation stirred to life.
It wasn't just a flicker of awareness—it was an explosion.
Harry's mutant ability, Praedia Bellica, activated with a force he could barely contain. The moment he gained the upper hand, the rush of his opponent's power flooded him, sweeping away any resistance like a tidal wave. Wukong's tricks, his boundless strength, his playful chaos—it all became Harry's. Every move, every power, every essence of the Monkey King now merged with him.
Harry's golden aura flared, crackling like electricity in a storm, but now there was something more. His movements felt sharper, faster, more fluid, as if he could bend the very laws of reality with a mere thought. He wasn't just absorbing power; he was becoming a living embodiment of it.
Wukong, who had been knocked down but never truly out, looked up, eyes twinkling with delight. "Ha! Look at you now, kid!" He sprang to his feet, laughing, dusting himself off with exaggerated flair. "You've got it! You've got the spirit of a true warrior. Didn't think you'd be this quick to pick it up."
Harry's eyes flared with golden light, his new power now fully awakened. He felt invincible, a strange mix of cocky arrogance and confident mastery. "You're telling me," Harry said, his voice calm but laced with a sudden, almost playful edge. "This is a lot more fun than I thought it would be."
"Oh, I knew you had it in you!" Wukong grinned, spinning around like he was on a mission. His voice was full of that unmistakable charm—lighthearted, but also tinged with genuine respect. "But you better keep up, kid, 'cause this is only the beginning. You've just unlocked the fun part!"
Harry couldn't help but chuckle. "Oh, I'm keeping up just fine," he said, shifting his stance, his movements now effortless, like he'd been born to move this way. "You weren't just messing with me, were you, Monkey King? This was all part of your little test, huh?"
Wukong put his hands on his hips, smirking. "Test?" He raised an eyebrow, genuinely amused. "You think I'd waste my time with a test? Nah, I saw something in you from the start, kid. Something different. You've got a fire in you that's got me intrigued. I've been hoping you'd tap into that potential." He threw a lazy punch toward the sky, his feet lifting off the ground for just a moment, his playful, carefree nature apparent as ever. "You think this is about power? It's about what you do with it, that's the real trick."
Harry stood tall, his eyes narrowing, a fire of his own igniting within. "And what is it you want, Wukong?" His voice grew more serious, his golden energy swirling around him like a second skin. "You want me to take up your mantle, don't you?"
Wukong's grin widened, and he nodded, as if Harry had finally understood something important. "Not want, kid. Need." He moved closer, his feet practically dancing on the air. "The world's changing. We need warriors who can handle that chaos, that madness that's coming. You've got that spark. That fire. You can wield all of this, Harry. You're not just some magic trick. You're the one who's gonna take all this power and make it your own."
Harry's chest tightened, a mix of excitement and responsibility surging within him. The mantle of the Monkey King? That was something Wukong had worn with pride, but Harry wasn't sure he could just inherit it. He wasn't some sidekick.
"Fine," Harry said, his voice low but fierce, a dangerous smile curling at the corner of his lips. "I'll take the mantle. But don't think for a second that means I'll just be some copy of you." He raised his arms, golden energy radiating from every pore. "I'll make this power my own. My own damn way."
Wukong's laughter was pure joy, the sound of a man who had nothing to prove. "Now that's the spirit! Ha!" He threw his head back, basking in the absurdity of it all. "You're more like me than you realize. But just so you know," he added, his tone turning serious for a brief moment, "the road you're walking is going to be a tough one. You've got the power. The legacy. The smarts. But you'll have to fight for it. And not everyone's going to let you have it. Especially not the ones who want to hold onto their little corner of the universe."
Harry felt a surge of determination, his golden energy flaring once again. "I'm used to walking alone," he said. "But I won't just take your legacy—I'll forge my own. The world won't know what hit it."
Wukong beamed, his approval written all over his face. "You're ready now, kid. Ready for whatever comes next." He punched the air, his movements like a blur. "Let's see how you handle the mantle of the Monkey King!"
Harry's grin stretched wider. "Oh, don't worry, Wukong. I'm going to handle it just fine."
And with that, Harry moved—faster than ever, his body a blur of golden light, the very earth beneath him warping in response to his new power. He wasn't just the boy who survived anymore. He wasn't just Harry Lokison. He was something more. He was a force to be reckoned with.
The battlefield hummed, alive with the golden energy Harry now commanded. And as Wukong watched, a proud smile crossed his face. This kid? He was going to be something legendary.
—
The air around Harry crackled with an energy that was both foreign and strangely familiar. The crackling hum of power filled the space, charging the atmosphere with an electrifying pulse. Wukong, now standing at ease in front of Harry, grinned mischievously, a glint of that familiar trickster energy in his eyes. But something about his demeanor had shifted, a deeper gravity settling in behind his usual playful spark.
"Alright, kid," Wukong said, slapping his hands together as if to brush off some imaginary dust. "Now that you've got the power, the spirit, and—let's be real—a bit too much attitude, there's one more thing you need."
Harry, feeling the tension of the moment like a taut string ready to snap, arched an eyebrow. "Oh? And what's that, exactly?" he asked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Wukong leaned in, eyes glinting with excitement, his tone lowering conspiratorially. "The Riyu Jingu Bang," he said, his voice full of that infectious enthusiasm. "The staff that can grow, shrink, and change shape at will. My weapon, my prized possession. The one that made me as strong as I am, and made me the Monkey King. Now that you're taking up that mantle, you're gonna need it too."
Harry's grin faltered for just a split second, his mind flashing back to the chaotic battle they had just fought. "You mean the staff I just snapped in half?" he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, his eyebrow quirked in disbelief. "That staff?"
Wukong burst out laughing, his voice full of genuine amusement. "Oh, you mean that little twig you broke?" He grinned wide, clearly enjoying the look of shock on Harry's face. "Kid, that wasn't the staff."
Harry blinked, dumbfounded. "Wait, what? You're saying I didn't just break the actual staff?"
Wukong nodded with a wink, his grin only growing wider. "That wasn't the real Riyu Jingu Bang. It was a... fragment. A remnant, you could say. A piece of its power, wrapped up and hidden away. What you broke was only a fraction of what the staff truly is." He shook his head, letting out a small, fond chuckle. "The real staff's been waiting for you, kid. Just like I have. You weren't supposed to break it. You were supposed to take it up when the time came."
Before Harry could process what he was hearing, the air around Wukong began to shimmer like a mirage. His form started to blur at the edges, his body becoming translucent as the golden aura that had once surrounded him began to dissipate in the form of delicate golden petals, floating down like leaves caught in a lazy breeze. His once solid shape flickered, piece by piece, until there was nothing left but the gentle swirl of glowing golden particles in the air.
Harry's breath hitched. "Wait!" he shouted, his voice tinged with panic. "Where are you going? Wukong, what the hell is happening?"
A soft chuckle, now more distant than before, echoed in his mind. "Don't worry, kid. I'm not really going anywhere. At least not in the way you think."
Harry froze. "What do you mean?"
Wukong's voice, now carrying the weight of centuries, reverberated in his mind like an ancient echo. "My body left the mortal plane a long time ago. What you've been seeing... well, it wasn't me in the flesh. Not entirely. I've left pieces of myself scattered inside the staff. Remnants of my power, my essence, bound to it for when the right person would come along. And that person, Harry, is you."
Harry took a step back, his eyes widening. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. "You mean... the whole time we've been training, I've been talking to a fragment of you? Not the real you?" His voice faltered, uncertainty creeping in.
Wukong's voice took on a more teasing tone, as though he couldn't resist poking fun at Harry's confusion. "Of course, kid. You didn't think I'd just show up like this, did you?" He chuckled, the sound now reverberating through Harry's mind like a warm breeze. "I couldn't just leave you all alone to figure it out. You needed help. You needed guidance. I couldn't let you screw this up."
Before Harry could respond, the golden petals swirled around him, and in an instant, the staff—the real Riyu Jingu Bang—began to materialize before him. It rose from the ground with a slow, almost reverential grace, gleaming in the soft light, its length shifting with ease, growing and shrinking as it settled into its true form. The staff was magnificent—more intricate than any weapon Harry had ever seen, with symbols and markings carved into the metal that hummed with ancient power.
Harry's hand involuntarily reached out, his fingers brushing the gleaming surface. The moment his skin touched it, a jolt of energy ran through his body, unlike anything he had ever experienced. It felt alive, thrumming with purpose. The weight of the staff was perfectly balanced in his grip, and somehow, it felt like it had always belonged to him.
"Now you're ready," Wukong's voice echoed, filled with pride. "The Riyu Jingu Bang is yours, Harry. And with it, you'll unlock the full power of the Monkey King. But remember—don't get too cocky. The staff doesn't just give you power; it demands wisdom. If you don't use it right, well... let's just say, the consequences won't be pretty."
Harry's eyes narrowed as he wrapped his fingers around the staff, feeling its pulse beneath his skin. "I don't know if I'm ready for all this, Wukong. This is... this is too much."
Wukong's voice was soft now, almost playful. "No one is ready for all this, kid. But you will be. You're already stronger than you think." The playful tone returned. "Besides, it's not like you've got much of a choice now. You're stuck with it. Better start getting used to it."
Harry's lips twitched upward. "You're really something, you know that?" he muttered, shaking his head.
"Hey, that's the Monkey King in you talking," Wukong's voice laughed, full of mischief. "Trust me, kid—you're gonna do great. Just don't let the power go to your head."
As the final golden petal drifted away, Harry stood alone, the true Riyu Jingu Bang in his hands. The weight of the staff, the responsibility that came with it, settled upon him like a mantle. But there was no fear in his heart, only determination.
With the Monkey King's power now fully his, Harry Lokison took his first step toward his new destiny—one that would reshape the very fabric of the world. The journey had just begun.
—
As Harry's fingers brushed the smooth, glowing surface of the Riyu Jingu Bang, an electric pulse shot through his entire being. It was as though the very core of his body had suddenly aligned with an ancient power, something primal, divine, and unfathomably vast. The staff hummed in his hand, its warmth seeping deep into his veins like fire meeting ice.
His heart raced, and the air around him seemed to warp, bending with the force of something far beyond ordinary comprehension. As the staff reacted, Harry's body tensed and shivered involuntarily. His skin prickled, as if the very molecules of his being were shifting to accommodate the incredible surge of power flowing through him.
He gasped, dropping the staff for a second before his hand instinctively grabbed it again, his fingers locking around the staff's polished length. The change was already underway, his body glowing with an ethereal light as it began to transform.
The first to change were his clothes. The simple garments of a child vanished in a brilliant burst of energy, replaced by an intricate, golden-red armor that seemed to materialize from the very fabric of the Dreamscape. The armor shifted, its Asgardian design fusing seamlessly with Sun Wukong's distinctive style. The chestplate was ornate, almost celestial in design, reflecting gold that gleamed with the light of distant stars. It was shaped like an armor forged for a god—angular yet fluid, a perfect blend of form and function.
The armor's edges were lined with delicate, winding patterns, symbolizing both the celestial realm and the earthly. On his chest, right over his heart, the symbol of the Monkey King gleamed—a delicate, intricate dragon intertwined with a phoenix, two mythic creatures of the heavens, signifying rebirth and strength.
Harry felt the energy coursing through him, shaping the armor around him. His shoulders were guarded with sleek, golden pauldrons, their edges sharp and formidable. The forearms bore gauntlets that seemed to pulse with energy, capable of both defense and offense. His boots were fitted with a perfect blend of mobility and protection, designed for swift, graceful combat.
But it was the helmet that completed the transformation. Not a full helmet, but a diadem, a crown of golden light. It hovered just above his brow, a simple yet powerful band that signified his new title. The crown glowed with an inner light, signifying that this was no mere mortal boy standing here anymore—this was the new Monkey King.
Harry took a deep breath, his hand tightening around the Riyu Jingu Bang, feeling the weight of his new form settle on his shoulders. The armor hummed, resonating with the power of the staff, the power of the gods, the power of Sun Wukong himself.
"Well," Harry muttered to himself, glancing at his reflection in the shimmer of the Dreamscape. His eyes, wide with wonder, sparkled with a new fire. "This is... something."
The weight of the transformation didn't feel like a burden. It felt like freedom—like he was exactly where he was meant to be. With this power, with this legacy, there would be no holding him back. It was time to step into the world, to show them all the new Monkey King. Harry Lokison, the son of Loki, the child of prophecy, was no longer just a boy. He was the Monkey King.
He raised his staff, the golden wood gleaming brightly in his hand as the world around him began to warp and shift, ready to open into the real world. The Dreamscape, a place of infinite possibilities, began to dissolve around him like mist caught in the breeze.
His armor gleamed, the reflection of his now-unstoppable resolve shining in its polished surface.
With one final look back, Harry grinned, his youthful face filled with a newfound confidence. The playful, mischievous glint in his eyes mirrored that of the Monkey King before him, a perfect blend of boyish charm and ancient wisdom.
"Time to wake up, huh?" Harry smirked. "Let's show them who they're really dealing with."
And with that, Harry Lokison—the new Monkey King—took his first step, ready to face the world that awaited him.
The ground beneath him trembled. Reality itself seemed to brace for the arrival of a legend. The new Monkey King had awakened.
—
The scene unfolded like a spectacle, a clash of gods and destiny woven in the tapestry of time. Loki's boots echoed softly through the ancient halls of K'un Lun, the godly mischief radiating off him like a palpable force. His sharp eyes scanned the mystical surroundings, and his lips curled upward, amused by the sheer tension in the air. He had arrived not as a visitor but as a father with a mission—one that would change everything.
Beside him, Hermes moved with his trademark swiftness, effortlessly gliding across the floor as though gravity had no hold on him. His wings fluttered lightly, a soft sound that seemed to harmonize with the very energy of K'un Lun. Artemis, the goddess of the hunt, was a stark contrast—her grace was tranquil, her steps silent, and her presence was commanding in its calmness. There was an air of mystery about her—an energy that could both soothe and destroy, the way she always balanced on the edge of instinct and reason.
"Feel that?" Loki asked, his voice low but laced with a smile. His eyes gleamed with the mischief of a god who had never been one to stay still for too long.
Hermes glanced over, his lips quirked in an almost knowing grin. "Oh, I feel it. And it's not just the city. Someone's got a new title, and I don't think the universe is going to forget it."
Artemis shot him a sidelong glance, her bow glinting with the dim light of the halls. "This is no ordinary power. It feels ancient."
Loki chuckled darkly. "Trust me, I know. And I can't wait to see what happens next."
They hadn't even reached the heart of K'un Lun when the air vibrated violently, the ground beneath their feet rumbling as though the very city had awoken from a long, deep slumber. A brilliant golden light exploded from one of the rooms ahead—Harry's room.
Loki's brows furrowed slightly, his posture never shifting. "Well, it seems the transformation's underway. Couldn't have been more punctual."
Hermes raised an eyebrow, a knowing glint in his eyes. "That's our kid for you—always on time for drama." He sounded amused, but there was a spark of curiosity in his voice as they sped toward the door.
Artemis stepped forward, her eyes narrowing as she regarded the door. "Is he… awake?" Her voice was almost imperceptible, filled with the type of maternal concern that made the very air feel tense.
Loki gave a slight nod, his eyes glimmering with a wicked gleam. "Oh, he's awake. And he's making sure the whole city knows about it."
The door to Harry's room was thrown open by an invisible force as they reached it, revealing the scene that was unfolding.
The golden light inside the room was blinding, its radiance pulsing like the heartbeat of a god. Harry stood in the center, his body radiating energy that rippled through the walls, vibrating the very stones of K'un Lun. His red and gold armor gleamed in the golden glow, the intricate patterns shifting with an ethereal energy. His eyes, wide with shock and awe, met those of his parents.
Loki stepped into the room first, his smile widening as he took in the sight of his son standing at the center, his golden diadem gleaming on his brow. "Well, well," Loki's voice rang out, full of pride and amusement. "Looks like the boy's taken the throne, hasn't he?"
Harry, now fully embracing the form of the Monkey King, glanced toward his father. His grin was wide, mischievous as always, but now there was something more—an undeniable force beneath that familiar cocky swagger. "Yeah, you could say that," he quipped. "I'm the new Monkey King. Like it?"
Hermes leaned against the doorframe, his usual playful grin never leaving his face. "Can't say it suits you better, Harry," he said, the ease in his voice belying the awe he felt watching the boy fully take on the mantle.
Artemis stepped forward next, her gaze steady but filled with a mix of admiration and wariness. "Power like this…" she trailed off, her eyes scanning Harry's glowing form. "It can be dangerous."
Harry, not one to let a good joke slip by, met his mother's gaze. "Danger's kind of my thing, isn't it?" His tone was light, but the weight of his words settled heavily in the room.
The others—Luke Castellan, Beckendorf, and the ever-inquisitive Connor and Travis—were standing in stunned silence, their wide eyes reflecting their disbelief at the sight of Harry, their friend, standing there transformed into a being of such immense power. The golden staff in his hand hummed with ancient energy, crackling like the very foundation of the universe had bent around him.
Luke, his face pale with shock but curiosity tinged with admiration, was the first to speak. "Harry... What happened to you?" His voice wavered slightly, as though even his bravado was tested in the face of the power Harry now wielded.
Harry's eyes glimmered with the kind of mischief that could only come from a god's child. "Oh, you know. The usual. A little makeover, some divine intervention, and poof—Monkey King. No big deal." His tone was casual, as though he hadn't just inherited the throne of a legendary figure.
Beckendorf, almost eleven but already carrying the weight of someone far older, crossed his arms and tilted his head. "So, you're really the Monkey King now?" His voice was filled with awe, but there was also a deep sense of respect.
Harry grinned at Beckendorf's question. "You bet I am. And it feels amazing." He raised the staff, and the room seemed to hum in response, as if K'un Lun itself was acknowledging the change, its very air crackling with the weight of Harry's new identity.
Connor, ever the one to question and ponder, raised an eyebrow, looking from Harry to the glowing staff in his hands. "What's next for you then? You're just going to waltz around, taking on the world?"
Harry's expression shifted momentarily, a brief flicker of something deeper passing through his eyes. He looked at his friends and the family standing around him. "I don't know yet," he admitted. "But whatever comes… it's time for the world to know there's a new Monkey King in town."
As he spoke, the very air around him seemed to tremble with the promise of what was to come. The ground underfoot shook slightly, and for a moment, the entire city of K'un Lun seemed to acknowledge Harry's newfound power, resonating with the ancient force he now embodied.
And then, without missing a beat, he smirked and turned toward the door. "Well," Harry said, his voice carrying a note of defiance and purpose. "Time to introduce myself to the world."
As he stepped into the hallway, the echoes of his power resonated through the ancient halls of K'un Lun, and for the first time in ages, the entire world knew the name of the new Monkey King. And it would never be the same again.
---
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