White fur catches moonlight. Real armor clinks. He stands shorter than Thor but exudes a presence that fills the courtyard like flood water. In his right hand he holds the pillar - no, the pillar is a staff now. Golden, ornate, perfectly sized.
He spins it once. Too fast to follow. It sings through the air.
He smiles.
Laughs - genuine, delighted chuckle.
The courtyard holds its breath. Wind dies. Leaves settle. Even the distant chimes go quiet.
Thor and the warrior face each other across ten paces of cracked stone. Mjolnir gleams, faint lightning flashes along its edge. The staff rests easy across white-furred shoulders. Golden eyes meet blue.
Neither moves.
Behind Thor, his companions stand frozen - weapons raised, muscles tensed, waiting for the order. The Monkey King simply watches, head tilted, smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Curious. Amused. Not threatened.
The moment stretches.
The Monkey King breaks it with a laugh - short, sharp. He tosses the staff straight up. It spins, climbing twenty feet, thirty, falls. He jumps, flips, lands on it as it hangs suspended in midair. Sits cross-legged. One foot tucked beneath him, the other dangling. A tail sways lazily below, the next moment gone.
The staff hovers. Perfectly still. Perfectly balanced.
He rests his chin in one hand. Taps his cheek with a finger. Waits.
The silence continues.
"Well?" Wukong's voice carries down from his perch. "Who are you?"
Thor opens his mouth-
"My lord, Thor Odinson!" Hróðmar steps forward, chest out, voice booming across the courtyard. "Prince of Asgard, son of Odin Allfather, wielder of the mighty Mjolnir! Commander of the Einherjar legions! Champion of-"
Wukong picks at his fur, examining something he found there. Flicks it away.
Hróðmar falters, then pushes on. "-Champion of the Nine Realms and executor of the Allfather's will! We come on behalf of Odin, King of Asgard, whose sight pierces the veil between dimensions, who has seen this realm and seeks knowledge of-"
The Monkey King scratches behind his ear. Vigorously. His leg kicks slightly with the effort.
Hróðmar's face reddens. "We investigate this land by royal decree, to assess its peoples and-"
Wukong picks his nose. Studies his finger. Wipes it on his armor.
"-and to bring word of Asgard's protection to all who dwell here!" Hróðmar finishes loudly, desperately trying to salvage the dignity of his introduction.
Wukong looks down at them. Blinks. "Odin can see between dimensions?"
"The Allfather's sight pierces all veils," Hróðmar declares proudly.
"Hmm." The Monkey King scratches his chin thoughtfully. "Can he see into the Jade Palace? The Celestial Courts? Because if he has that trick..." He chuckles, shaking his head. "I wouldn't have had to work nearly so hard to achieve immortality. Could've just asked him for tips."
He grins down at them. "So where was this all-seeing Odin when I was eating peaches and dodging execution? Would've been helpful."
Hróðmar's jaw tightens. "You mock what you do not understand-"
"Oh, I understand plenty." Wukong picks at his fur again, casual. "Some king sits on a throne, figures he can see everywhere, decides to send his boy out to poke around places that aren't his business." He looks at Thor. "About right?"
Hróðmar bristles. "The Allfather brings order! Peace through unity! Asgard has conquered dimension after dimension, brought countless realms under our protection! Our victories span-"
He stops.
The air in the courtyard changes.
The Monkey King's smile hasn't changed but something in his eyes has. He's stopped picking at his fur. Stopped scratching. His full attention -all of it-focuses on Hróðmar like sunlight through glass.
"Conquered," Wukong repeats slowly. The word sounds wrong in his mouth. "Brought under your rule."
"Yes! Through strength and wisdom, the Allfather has-"
"Built an empire." Not a question. Wukong's gaze shifts to Thor. "You go dimension to dimension. Conquer. Subjugate. Force them to kneel to your father."
The contempt in those two words -your father- could cut steel.
Thor's grip tightens on Mjolnir.
Wukong scoffs. Sharp. Derisive. "You're just like the Jade Emperor."
Silence.
"Sitting up high, thinking you know what's best for everyone. Deciding who bows and who gets stepped on." He leans forward on his staff, smile turning mocking. "Tell me - does your Allfather have a fancy throne room? Lots of gold? Servants everywhere? Does he make proclamations about order and harmony while sending warriors to break anyone who won't submit?"
"You will-" Thor starts.
"And what's his grand plan, hmm?" Wukong continues, voice dripping with scorn. "Unite all dimensions under this, Asgard? Bring 'peace'? That's what they all say. The Jade Emperor said the same thing when he tried to put me in a stable."
He straightens, staff spinning casually in his hands. "Your father's conquest isn't wisdom. It's idiocy wrapped in golden armor."
"You will not mock the Allfather!" Thor's voice cracks like thunder across the courtyard.
Their eyes lock.
Golden and blue. Ancient and eternal.
Thor sees a threat there - real, dangerous, a storm behind those eyes.
Wukong sees it too. Sees Thor's rage building. Sees Mjolnir crackling with lightning. Sees the challenge forming.
His smile widens.
"Your father," he says slowly, deliberately, "is an idiot."