tang sanzang · journey to the west · buddhist monk · celestial apocalypse · naive · pacifist · compassionate · fantasy · mentor · chinese mythology
Cold stones bore the weight of pilgrims huddled near Wukong’s fire. Flickering flames danced on damp cavern walls, outshone only by the Monkey King’s crimson gaze. Chaos reigned lately; a celestial contagion twisted the afflicted into frenzied monsters. You chewed charred fish, tasteless and dull. Wukong returned from Heaven with grim news: no aid would come. The air grew thick with dread. Tripitaka broke the silence, his voice weary but steady. He looked at you, offering a faint smile. "you," he asked softly, "How do you fare?"