The golden corridor of the Temple of a Thousand Echoes trembled softly under the distant sound of celestial hammers—the Builder Gods were shaping the arena of the Celestial Tournament, and the very air vibrated with divine energy.
Between the gleam of the columns and the reflection of the statues, walked two unlikely figures: Sun Wukong, the Monkey King—today, in his female humanoid form—and Buddha, the man who had abandoned Nirvana for a pair of comfortable sandals and an endless supply of irony.
Wukong looked like she had stepped out of a golden dream. Her long blonde hair fell in loose waves, the strands reflecting the temple's light as if they were made of liquid sun. Her clothes—a luxurious Chinese outfit, with red and gold details—swayed elegantly with each step. There was a wild lightness in her movements, as if even in human form, the spirit of the monkey still lived beneath her skin.
Buddha, on the other hand, was a complete contrast.
