I Am Zeus

The mortal realm was supposed to be his playground. A place of simple pleasures—stealing peaches, teasing monks, and napping in the sun. But as Sun Wukong soared on his cloud over a vast, grassy plain, he felt a familiar, ugly tension in the air. It was the same foulness he'd tasted days ago.

Below, a nomadic village was in chaos. Tents burned. People screamed and ran. And moving among them were the red and black figures he'd come to recognize.

"Persistent little roaches, aren't you?" Wukong muttered, his hand already reaching behind his ear.

He didn't land. He simply fell from his cloud, a stone dropping from heaven. He landed in the center of the village with a thud that cracked the earth and sent dust billowing outwards. The demons closest to him stumbled back, startled.

A red-skinned brute recovered first, roaring as it charged him with a crude axe. Wukong didn't even bother with his staff. He caught the axe blade with his bare hand, the metal screeching against his palm, and squeezed. The axe head crumpled like paper. He then flicked the demon in the forehead with his other hand. The creature's head snapped back with a sound like a gong, and it flew backwards, crashing through three of its kin.

"Who's next?" he chirped, a wide grin splitting his face. "Don't be shy! The Great Sage has time for everyone!"

The demons, sensing a different kind of prey, converged. Wukong finally pulled the Ruyi Jingu Bang from behind his ear. With a whispered "Grow!", the needle expanded into a massive pillar of iron.

What followed wasn't a battle. It was pest control.

He didn't use fancy techniques. He swung. The staff was a blur of black iron, a whirlwind of simple, absolute force. It didn't cut or pierce; it pulverized. A demon wearing spiked armor was hit and simply exploded into a cloud of black dust and shattered metal. Another, trying to flank him, was swatted into the sky, becoming a distant, screaming speck.

He was a force of nature, an unstoppable law of physics wearing a monkey's skin. He moved through their ranks like a farmer scything wheat, his laughter ringing out over the sounds of destruction.

"Too slow! Too weak! Is this all Hell has to offer? I've fought river crabs with more fight in them!"

A group of the black-skinned elites, smarter than the rest, formed a circle around him and began chanting. A cage of crackling dark energy began to form, its bars sizzling with power meant to trap a god's soul.

Wukong stopped and watched, curious. "Ooh, a pretty light show!"

As the cage solidified around him, he simply tapped one of the energy bars with his staff. The complex, hellish magic, designed to withstand divine power, encountered something it was not built to comprehend: an object that could weigh ten thousand pounds or be small as a needle, that defied all limits. The bar didn't break; it short-circuited. The feedback surged through the circle of chanting demons, causing them to convulse and burst into blue flames.

He stepped out of the dissipating cage, brushing a speck of soot from his shoulder. "My turn."

He plucked a handful of fur from his arm, blew on it, and shouted, "Change!"

A hundred copies of the Handsome Monkey King, each wielding a perfect replica of the Jingu Bang, materialized across the plain. The real Wukong pointed. "Get 'em, boys!"

The clone army descended on the remaining demons with joyous, chaotic violence. The tide of the invasion didn't just turn; it was utterly reversed, drowned in a sea of cackling monkeys and swinging staffs.

Within minutes, it was over. The few surviving demons, their will broken, were fleeing back towards a pulsating red portal that hung in the air at the edge of the village. Wukong's clones vanished in puffs of smoke, their job done.

He stood alone again, his staff resting on his shoulder, watching the retreat. He'd protected this one village. But the portal remained. He could feel others, weaker but still present, flickering into existence across the mortal world. This was a flood, and he was trying to stop it with a single bucket.

He strode towards the main portal, intending to do what he did best: cause a ruckus on the other side.

But he stopped a dozen feet away.

The air around the portal changed. The frantic, chaotic energy stilled and deepened, becoming heavy and oppressive. The red light within didn't just swirl; it coalesced, forming a stable, gateway-like shape. The temperature plummeted. The grass at the portal's edge withered and turned black.

A figure stepped through.

He was not a hulking brute or a gaunt sorcerer. He was a man of average height, dressed in immaculate, dark robes that seemed tailored from a starless night. His features were sharp and aristocratic, his hair slicked back, a neatly trimmed goatee framing a cruel, amused mouth. He looked like a king who had just stepped out of his court for a breath of air. In one hand, he casually held a simple, black scepter.

But his eyes… his eyes were ancient. They held a cold, intelligent malice that made the mindless rage of the other demons seem childish. They scanned the ruined village, the fleeing mortals, and finally came to rest on Sun Wukong.

The Monkey King felt it immediately. This was different. This wasn't a lieutenant or a lord. The pressure coming from this one being dwarfed the entire army he had just dismantled. It was a presence that demanded silence, that choked the very joy out of the air.

Wukong's grin didn't fade, but it became sharper, more focused. He tightened his grip on the Jingu Bang.

The well-dressed figure took another step, his polished boots making no sound on the scorched earth. He didn't look at the corpses of his minions. His gaze was fixed solely on the monkey.

"So," the figure said, his voice smooth as oiled silk, yet carrying to every corner of the silent plain. "You are the local nuisance."

He took a single step forward, and the world held its breath.

"I am Mephisto."