On the first day, God created himself.
On the second day, God created the world.
On the third day, God created the concepts that govern the world.
On the fourth day, God divided the world into nine realms.
On the fifth day, God filled the world with man.
On the sixth day, God was killed by his own creation.
And on the seventh day, God was…
***
The king slumped against his throne as another impact rocked the palace foundations. Crystal chandeliers swayed like hanged men, their gentle chiming a macabre counterpoint to the screams drifting through the shattered windows. Each explosion from below sent tremors through the ancient throne, shaking dust from rafters that had witnessed coronations and celebrations, now bearing witness to an ending. His ending. Their ending. Ceprun's ending.
"Where there are gods, there is a golden light. A light that consumes all that it touches. A light that cannot quite be called destruction. It isn't evil, but it is far from good… And do you know why that is? It's because it's beautiful… It really makes one wonder, could such a thing still be considered war? If not, what the hell would you call this? What would you call a beautiful war?"
Zhu Bajie's massive frame, once imposing in its royal regalia, now seemed diminished by the gravity of their situation. The crown that had passed through generations sat heavy on his brow, each jewel a reminder of the legacy about to be snuffed out.
From his composure, one might assume that he was a worthless king who cared not for the cries of his people.
They'd be wrong. So very wrong.
Sha Wujing, his right hand man, knew how much the situation was eating away at his king. He'd seen that same stoic mask during their many journeys together. He vividly remembered the moment Zhu Bajie took up the throne during the kingdom's most desperate time of need. He was wearing it then too. That same stoic mask.
"What are your honest thoughts, brother? Do we have a chance?"
Sha Wujing glanced out the palace windows and immediately grimaced at the sight of the ruined kingdom.
"Not a snowball's chance in the nine hells. These aren't just any deities, Bajie. Even among the higher gods, they are on a completely different level–no, dimension! Heaven's Royal Deck."
The palace walls groaned once more.
Somewhere below, support beams collapsed with a sound like breaking bones. The cries of the masses, Zhu Bajie's people, rose and fell like waves, each wave fainter than the last.
Bajie's snout twitched—an old nervous habit Wujing had noticed during their many years together.
"Say, brother. Do you remember when we first met? You thought I was just another corrupt noble, and so, you attacked Wukong, Sanzang, and me without warning. It took forever for us to calm you down enough for you to listen to reason."
"...Yes, I remember that…" Wujing somehow managed a smile. "Though I'd like to forget all about that version of myself. In those times, I was a weak man who resorted to violence at the drop of a hat. I used my power irresponsibly. No different from the deities who terrorize us now."
The beast-man named Zhu Bajie released a sound that could be considered laughter. It rumbled from deep in his chest, defiant against the apocalypse outside.
"I wouldn't go that far, but yes, you were quite the troublemaker. In the earlier days, you even gave Wukong a run for his money when it came to trouble. The number of times I had to apologize on behalf of you two..."
Sha Wujing gave no reply to that.
"...Still, I don't regret any of it."
"..."
"It makes me wonder though, did the gods plan all this from the very beginning?"
"!"
Wujing's hand strangled the staff held between its grasp. At the mention of those celestial puppet-masters, Wujing's entire body went rigid. They had been a thorn in his side since the moment he'd drawn his first breath.
Those filthy tyrants who oversaw the world as if it were nothing but a dollhouse, ruling over it from the comfort of their thrones above.
Heaven, some called it. Though to him, the term "landfill" suited those shitheads far more. They weren't deities who deserved worship. Rather, they were pigs who should be crushed beneath the excrement stuck on his boots and butchered by the judgment of his Divine Artifact.
"I swear, heaven must be a terribly boring realm if you need to orchestrate genocides for entertainment."
"…Boring indeed." Bajie rose from his throne with the slow dignity of a king who knew his reign was ending. Each step echoed in the trembling chamber, a drumbeat marking the last moments of an era. "Well then. I'm off."
"You will die," Wujing didn't so much as add a drop of varnish to his words.
"Oh trust me, brother, I harbor no illusions of victory. I don't even dare hope for it," Bajie moved toward the great double doors that served as the entrance to the throne room. "That being said, I must fight for my people. For the children crying in their mothers' arms, for the elders who remember my days as a humble general, for every soul who has called this kingdom their home."
Zhu Bajie took another decisive step forward. Then, several more.
His right hand man, his brother, his sworn ally who had been by his side for the past three decades, Sha Wujing, watched his king march towards death. He wanted to stop him, but he knew he couldn't.
After all, he'd known this moment would come.
Like him, Zhu Bajie was born under a star. That meant he was something people called a "Saint". People like them had a habit of finding themselves in impossible situations.
"And what of me? What would you have me do while you're busy getting yourself killed?"
Realistically, the silence had probably only lasted a few short moments. Enough for Zhu Bajie to reach the large entrance to the throne room. Yet, Sha Wujing felt as if he were standing with bated breath forever.
"Gather the heroes, of course."
"!"
Wujing's staff clattered to the floor.
"This kingdom is finished," Bajie continued. "And many more will join it in the flames. The cycle will continue, realm after realm, until every world has been consumed by their hunger. But if we plan on winning this war against the gods, then they are our only hope."
The Prophecy of the Six Heroes.
It is said that eons ago, when the despair of humanity had reached its peak, the very cosmos gave birth to six warriors. Their mission was simple. To defeat the corrupt gods and finally put an end to the war between man and god.
Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Delta, Epsilon, and lastly, Zeta.
According to the Prophecy, every millennium, without fail, these six chosen warriors are reincarnated by the world to once again save humanity from the tyrannous deities.
It is the duty of a Saint to find and gather those heroes—wherever they may be…
"Have you lost your mind?!" Wujing's voice cracked like a whip. "The six heroes?! That children's tale?!"
…But it is nothing more than that.
A prophecy. An apocrypha. A tale shared by those pointlessly clinging to the hope that they really could be saved from the evil gods.
"It was not even a year ago that you called such beliefs the desperate delusion of the powerless! A 'hero'? Come now, you know as well as I do that there is no hope for such a being's existence. Much less six of them!" Sha Wujing cried on. "The world just isn't that nice. In the first place, there are no records or proof of the existence of these supposed heroes… Utter rubbish! That's what you're spewing!"
Bajie turned to face his sworn brother, and for a moment, Wujing saw not the confident king he'd served for decades, but a desperate man clinging to the last thread of hope.
"–!"
Wujing staggered backward, then collapsed to his knees.
"...Even if–if–such heroes exist, where would I begin to look? The prophecy claims the heroes can be born in any realm. There are nine realms, Bajie! Nine entire worlds! And six heroes scattered among them…? Do you understand what you are asking of me?!"
"I do."
"......"
A bitter laugh bubbled up from Wujing's chest. Both his gaze and arms gave out and fell to the floor.
"Have we really fallen so low? Are we truly chasing children's stories now? Like desperate old fools grasping at myths and legends?"
"Let me be clear, this isn't an order. I won't force this burden on you, brother. This kingdom will be ash and memory long before you could complete such a mission. Should you find the heroes and return here, you wouldn't even have a kingdom to protect… Honestly, I have no right to ask you to carry this weight."
"You speak as if I actually could complete such a mission."
"Because I know you can," Zhu Bajie responded without hesitation.
Until now, every word he had uttered was backed by an uncertain undertone unfit for a king. His desperation, his anxiety, his bitterness, all of it was present in every word. Except those words.
For the first time that night, Zhu Bajie spoke with absolute certainty. His eyes held the same unwavering faith that had gotten them through every impossible battle over the years.
Conviction fit for his stature.
"I believe in you, Wujing! No matter how impossible the goal was, you've always found a way! You're the most persistent person I've ever known! And the most loyal friend any of us could ask for! So, I ask you, my dearest brother... Will you do this? One more time. Will you follow this old fool's desperate wishes one last time?"
Wujing remained silent for a long moment, his hands pressing against the cold marble. Or maybe it was his body that had gone cold and sensitive.
Whatever the case, it wouldn't change the fact that two choices stared him in the eyes.
Though for people like him there was only really one choice present.
"I can't promise I'll find these mythical saviours. The nine realms are beyond vast. But I can promise to try my damnedest." His voice was steady and resolved. Sha Wujing looked up, meeting his king's eyes one final time. "So yes, you stubborn pig... I'll do it."
A grin split Bajie's lips, transforming his battle-worn face into something almost boyish.
"I knew you would."
Blinding light erupted from Bajie's back like a star being born. The radiance took the shape of a perfect circle containing the image of a crystal-clear river flowing through the cosmos.
The same divine symbol blazed on his elongated ear. That birthmark was proof of what he was. What they were…
Saints.
"Constellation Art! Eridanus!"
Golden light bloomed beneath Wujing's feet, rising to engulf his entire form. Power flowed through his legs, spreading throughout his body like warm honey. But it wasn't just divine power coursing through him. It was trust. Hope. The unbreakable bond of brotherhood forged over three decades of shared struggle and triumph.
"This power should allow you to bypass Noah's barrier..." Bajie's voice grew distant as the light intensified. "Godspeed, my brother. May fortune smile upon your impossible journey. May you find what this world needs most… May you find… the six heroes."