*CRACK!*
Sun Wukong's staff collided with Number 7's barrier.
The impact didn't just create sound.
It rewrote local physics through sheer concentrated violence, shockwaves rippling outward in visible distortions that made dimensional fabric scream complaints about structural integrity violations.
Reality flinched.
Actually recoiled like it had touched something hot, space itself developing temporary cracks that bled golden light before hastily sealing with the kind of urgency that suggested the universe really didn't want to find out what happened if those breaks became permanent.
The Monkey King's grin stretched wider.
Impossibly wide, showing too many teeth in an expression that mixed battle-joy with the kind of confidence that came from knowing you'd won approximately three thousand fights before breakfast.
"Been a while since I fought someone wearing a mask!"
