The heavens had been quiet since Thor's death, but peace never lasts when gods feel fear. They gathered again, this time not in Valhalla, but in a hall suspended above time itself. Clouds wrapped around the pillars, stars flickered beneath their feet, and the air itself bent from the pressure of so many divine beings in one place.
At the center, Zeus spoke first.
"We all agreed to the hunt, but none of us have moved. Arthur grows stronger by the day. The mortals whisper his name like prayer."
Ra crossed his arms, his golden skin glowing faintly. "And yet none of you want to be the first to fight him. Strange for gods who claim to be fearless."
Odin tapped his spear against the floor. "Fear is not the issue. Strategy is. Sending ourselves one by one will only feed his legend."
Across the table, Amaterasu sighed. "Then what do you suggest, All-Father? We all rush him at once and destroy half the world?"
Loki leaned forward with a grin that barely hid his anger. "That might not be a bad idea."
But before another argument could start, a booming laugh filled the air.
"Or," a voice said from above, "you could send someone who already fought heaven once."
The gods turned. Hanging upside down from the ceiling, tail flicking lazily, was Sun Wukong. His golden eyes shimmered with amusement as he dropped to the ground, landing with a soft thud.
Ra frowned. "You were not invited, trickster."
"Yeah," Wukong said, brushing dust from his fur, "but you all talk too loud. The whole sky can hear your fear."
Zeus narrowed his eyes. "You think this is funny?"
"I think everything's funny," Wukong said. "Even death. Especially yours if you keep talking."
Hermes chuckled quietly, earning a glare from Zeus. "Sorry," he said. "He's not wrong, though."
Odin studied Wukong carefully. "You fought heaven once and lost."
Wukong smiled. "I was young then. Thought I could beat everyone by shouting loud enough. Turns out, you need more than rage."
Zeus crossed his arms. "And why should we trust you now?"
"Because," Wukong said, twirling his staff, "I don't like the idea of a mortal stealing my title as the one who humiliated the heavens."
The hall went silent. Even Loki had to smirk at that.
"So you want to fight him," Odin said slowly.
Wukong grinned. "Fight him? No. Test him. If he's truly a godslayer, I'll see it for myself. If not, I'll teach him what real rebellion looks like."
Ra exchanged a look with Zeus. "Fine. Go. If you fail, the next one to fall will be you."
Wukong saluted with a grin. "Relax. I don't die easy. Just make sure you don't cry when I come back with his head."
He vanished in a flash of golden light before Zeus could answer.
The mortal world had grown restless again.
Arthur stood at the peak of a shattered mountain, staring down at the valley below. Storm clouds swirled above him, but no thunder came. His sword was buried in the ground beside him, its edge glowing faintly from the energy it had absorbed.
He had been hunting for the next god, but the world seemed to hold its breath. No divine armies. No messengers. Just silence.
Then laughter broke the quiet.
It was bright, sharp, and alive. It didn't echo like thunder—it rolled like a song.
Arthur turned just in time to see a golden streak crash into the ground a few meters away. The shockwave blew back dust and shattered the stone beneath his feet.
When it cleared, Sun Wukong stood there, balancing his staff across his shoulders, tail flicking lazily.
Arthur's hand went to his sword. "Another one."
"Not another," Wukong said, smiling. "The one."
Arthur didn't answer. The air between them pulsed with energy. He could feel it—the same kind of pressure he felt when Thor appeared, but lighter, playful, and wild.
"Sun Wukong," Arthur said, voice steady. "The Monkey King. You're one of them."
"Used to be," Wukong said. "Now I'm whatever I feel like being."
"Then why are you here?"
Wukong's grin widened. "Because they asked me to kill you."
Arthur's eyes narrowed. "And you said yes?"
"I said I'd check first. You kill gods, I kill gods. We might actually get along."
He spun his staff, the sound slicing through the air. "But I still have to test you. Heaven's rules."
Arthur picked up his sword. "Then let's get this over with."
Wukong chuckled. "Impatient. You'd get along with Thor."
Arthur's expression hardened. "Don't speak his name."
Wukong raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Touchy. Fine, fine. No talking about thunder boy."
He stepped forward, staff still resting on his shoulder. "But I'll say this: you killed one god. That's impressive. But if you want to fight heaven, you need to understand what they really are."
Arthur lifted the sword. "I understand enough."
Wukong sighed. "Mortals. Always so sure."
He planted his staff in the ground. The mountain cracked beneath it. "Alright then, show me."
Arthur charged.
The sword cut through the air, glowing with blinding light. Wukong dodged easily, his movement like wind slipping through water. Arthur's swing missed by inches, carving through rock instead.
Wukong laughed. "Not bad. But you're swinging that thing like it owes you money."
Arthur ignored him and attacked again, faster this time. His blade hummed with divine energy, slicing through the air. Wukong parried with his staff, sparks flying with every clash.
They traded blows like thunderclaps. The ground broke beneath them, trees splintered, and air turned heavy with energy. But Wukong kept smiling, even as Arthur's strikes grew stronger.
Arthur swung down hard, forcing Wukong to block with both hands. The shockwave tore the ground apart, sending dust spiraling into the sky.
"Nice hit," Wukong said, shaking off the impact. "You really don't hold back."
"Why should I?" Arthur said.
"Because you might need me to hold back too."
Arthur lunged again, but this time Wukong vanished. A moment later, he reappeared behind Arthur and kicked him hard in the back. Arthur stumbled forward, catching himself with his sword.
"You're fast," Arthur muttered.
"I'm everything fast," Wukong said, spinning his staff again. "Heaven tried to catch me once. Still looking."
Arthur turned, blade raised. "Then they sent the right one."
"Maybe," Wukong said. "Let's find out."
He charged, and the staff struck first. Arthur blocked the first blow, but the second caught him in the ribs. Pain flared through his side, but he didn't fall. He swung the sword upward, catching Wukong off guard.
The edge grazed Wukong's arm, drawing a streak of golden blood.
Wukong stared at it for a moment, then grinned. "You actually hit me."
Arthur wiped sweat from his brow. "You bleed like anyone else."
"Sure," Wukong said. "But I don't die like anyone else."
He flicked his wrist, and his staff expanded, stretching into a massive golden pillar. Arthur rolled aside as it slammed into the ground, shattering the rock.
"Overcompensating," Arthur said, panting.
"Always," Wukong replied, laughing.
Arthur charged again, sliding across the ground, sword glowing. He struck upward, slicing through the pillar. Wukong shrank it back into his hand, blocking just in time. Their weapons locked, the ground cracking beneath their feet.
"Tell me, Arthur," Wukong said between strikes, "what happens after you kill them all?"
Arthur pushed harder. "Then the world will be free."
"Free?" Wukong smiled sadly. "Or empty?"
Arthur didn't answer. The sword pulsed brighter, the light burning through his veins. His anger was feeding it again. The voice whispered faintly in his mind, pushing him to go further.
Kill. Break. Burn them all.
Arthur gritted his teeth and roared, forcing Wukong back. Their clash exploded into light. The air turned white for a second, then cleared.
Both stood panting, weapons lowered.
Wukong stared at him quietly. "You're not lying. You really mean to do it."
Arthur nodded. "Every one of them."
Wukong scratched his chin. "Then I guess I can't stop you. Not today, anyway."
He spun his staff and rested it on his shoulder again. "You're strong, Arthur. Maybe strong enough to finish what I started. But you're still chained by your hate."
Arthur said nothing.
Wukong smiled faintly. "When you learn to fight without it, come find me again. Maybe then I'll fight you for real."
He jumped into the air, golden light flaring around him. "Until then, keep living. Make it interesting."
Arthur watched as Wukong vanished into the clouds, his laughter fading into the distance.
The storm quieted, leaving only wind and the sound of his heartbeat.
Arthur looked at the sword in his hand. Its glow had dimmed, but its whisper remained.
Closer now.
He looked up at the sky, his eyes cold and tired.
"Send whoever's next," he muttered.
Somewhere beyond the clouds, the gods were watching.
And they were not laughing anymore.