In the void beyond comprehension—
where stars were thoughts,
and time dared not move,
the Sun screamed.
Or rather…
Sun Wukong did.
---
The once-mighty sun, now a radiant sphere larger than the microcosmic universe itself, pulsed with Dao heat, infused with Nirvana, forged by perfection itself. It was meant to purify.
Meant to end.
But to him—
It was fuel.
---
> "You want to end me with peace?"
From within the core of that impossible star, a voice bled out—
Mocking. Laughing. Ascending.
---
> "Then I will devour your peace."
A rumble.
A shift.
The gods and watchers across the multiverse of myth stepped back.
And in the next instant—
Sun Wukong opened his mouth.
And ate the sun.
---
[Scan 1 – Devouring the Nirvanic Sun]
> Wukong's body expanded, twisting myth with Dao, and consumed the star made by Nirvana.
The heat that was meant to obliterate became part of his chest.
Flames coiled into his fur.
Light bled through his skin.
The sun did not fade.
It became him.
---
> "You forged a star to erase me?"
He stepped forward now, his silhouette a walking apocalypse.
> "But I am the Monkey King.
The one who stole from the heavens.
And now—I steal your truth."
---
Yi Zhen's body stood still—
Black hair waving in the solar wind,
white robes pristine,
eyes narrowed.
But before he could speak—
Wukong moved.
Faster than time.
He reappeared above Yi Zhen, hands forming ancient seals, drawing from every mythic continuity across history.
Then:
> "Rebel Dharma: Soul-Killing Heavenquake Fist."
---
[Scan 2 – Named Technique of the Soul]
> A punch that ignored the body.
Ignored the mind.
It shattered the soul directly, using divine chaos from stolen Dharma scripts of ancient realms.
It combined Hindu-Astral mantras, Taoist soul suppression techniques, and Buddhist spiritual rupturing.
> This was the one punch Wukong never used, because it was created to rebel against reincarnation itself.
---
The punch landed.
Not on Yi Zhen's body.
But on his soul.
---
And Yi Zhen—
Exploded.
---
A scream echoed across the cosmos.
His body was scattered into white motes of Dao essence.
His soul—
Torn in half.
And above his breaking essence, Wukong floated—no longer a monkey, no longer a myth.
But something worse:
> "You should've killed me before I remembered who I truly am."
> "I am not just a monkey god.
I am not just Sun Wukong."
> "I am myth defiance made manifest."