On the first day, God created himself.
On the second day, God created the world.
On the third day, God decorated the world with beautiful stars.
On the fourth day, God created the concepts that govern the world.
On the fifth day, God filled the world with various races.
On the sixth day, as God rested from his hard work, he was killed by his own creation.
On the seventh day, God was…
†
"What are your honest thoughts, brother? Can we win this?"
Sha Wujing stood at his right hand as he always had, watching the throne rumble beneath Zhu Bajie with each distant impact. Through the palace windows, he could see golden light swooping through the kingdom.
"Not a snowball's chance in the nine hells. Even if I threw myself into that maelstrom, I would only add one more corpse to the pile. Our enemy is not just a god, Bajie. She is one of the only twelve angels. A member of Heaven's Royal Deck."
The palace shuddered. Somewhere below, the foundation of buildings groaned under pressure they were never meant to bear. The desperate cries of the masses rose and fell like waves against rocks, growing fainter with each passing moment.
Bajie's snout twitched as he heard those words.
Outside, what had once been a beacon of hope and prosperity now teetered on the precipice of oblivion. 70 generations of kings had witnessed wars, plagues, and the whims of evil gods from this very throne. But no kingdom, no matter how enduring, could stand against a deity of the highest order.
She had come alone. No weapon gleaming in her hands, no army marching beneath proud banners, and definitely no flags of diplomacy. Only her cold and merciless crimson glare—eyes more crimson than the blood now staining their streets.
Her hair looked as if it were woven from fresh snow, though it caught the rising sunlight and transformed into radiant gold. The same display played across her halo and wings.
In terms of beauty, there wasn't a soul alive who would dismiss an advance from her, man or woman.
Each wave of her hand swept over the kingdom like a gust of death.
"If only that mad monkey were still with us… I can't help but wonder... did the gods plan this from the very beginning?"
At the mention of those celestial puppet-masters, Wujing's entire body went rigid. The gods had been a thorn in his side since the moment he'd drawn his first breath.
"I would not put it past those bastards. Heaven must be a terribly boring place 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. "Very well, Wujing. If it has come to this, I'll handle the angel myself."
"You will die."
The beast-man named Zhu Bajie released a sound that could be called laughter.
"I harbor no illusions of victory, brother. I don't even dare hope for it. I'm not even naive enough to believe our kingdom will survive what's coming." Bajie moved toward the great doors, each step echoing in the trembling chamber. "All the same, I must fight for my people. Besides, if I sat here cowering with my tail between my legs, I'd never be able to face him when we meet again."
A weary sigh escaped Wujing.
He'd known this moment would come. After all, like him, Zhu Bajie was a person born under a star. A saint. People like him had a habit of finding themselves in impossible situations.
"And what of me? I assume you plan to buy us time with that Constellation of yours. What would you have me do while you are busy getting yourself killed?"
Bajie paused at the threshold, his hand resting on the door that would lead him to his final battle.
"Find the AntiGod."
"!"
Those words were like a death sentence. Wujing's staff clattered to the floor.
"This kingdom is finished…" Bajie continued without turning around. "And many more will join it in the flames. But if we mortals plan on winning this war against the gods, then he is our only hope."
The AntiGod.
It is said that every millennium the world bestows the power of an angel to 6 heroes.
By itself, that tale isn't unbelievable. However, it goes on to state one more thing: That in the very last cycle, a truly special hero will be chosen. One who is destined to reach the seat of God and become the greatest hero in history.
This tale is as old as time itself. But it is nothing more than just that—a tale.
"Have you lost your mind?!" Wujing's voice cracked like a whip. "The prophecy of the AntiGod? That children's tale about some mystical hero who will save the world from the evil gods? The same bedtime story that speaks of him being hailed as the greatest hero in all of history?"
"Sounds like I don't need to explain it then."
"Don't you dare get clever with me! The AntiGod is a myth, Bajie! A fairy tale we tell cubs when they can't sleep! It was not even a year ago that you told Sanzang such a person was nothing but fable and wishful thinking. And now you are ordering me to find him?"
Bajie finally turned, 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.
"I am."
Wujing staggered backward as if he'd been struck, then collapsed to his knees.
"You are serious... Even if–if–such a person exists, where would I begin to look? The prophecy claims that the AntiGod can be born in any realm. But there are nine realms! Do you understand what you are asking of me?"
"Yes. I understand clearly."
A bitter laugh bubbled up from Wujing's chest.
"Have we really fallen so low that we're chasing children's stories?"
"I won't force this burden on you, brother. After all, this kingdom will be nothing but ash and memory long before you could complete such a mission."
"You speak as if I actually could complete such a mission."
"Because I know you can."
Wujing looked up, startled by the absolute certainty in his king's voice.
"I believe in you, Wujing. No matter how impossible the destination, you've always found a way to get us there. You're the most persistent runner, the most loyal friend any of us could ask for. I'm certain they would agree with every word… So I ask you, my dearest brother. Will you do this? Will you find the AntiGod and bring him to this realm? To Gaia?"
The palace shook again, more violently this time. Dust rained from the ceiling as the sounds of destruction grew closer. Soon, even these walls would not protect them from the angel's wrath.
Wujing remained silent for a long moment. His hands were pressed against his face. Then he rubbed his small horns, searching for some minuscule of strength. For such a task, he needed all he could get.
Finally, his hands fell away, and he gripped his staff with renewed determination.
"I can't promise I'll find this mythical savior. But I can promise to try my damnedest. So yes, you stubborn pig... " Wujing met his king's eyes one last time. "I will do it!"
A grin split Bajie's lips, transforming his battle-worn face into something almost boyish. His snout flared and he let out a small, affectionate snort.
In the next moment, blinding light erupted from Bajie's back like a star being born. The radiance took the shape of a perfect circle with the image of a crystal-clear river flowing through the cosmos. The same divine symbol blazed on his long, flappy ear. It was proof of who he was. One of the chosen few blessed by the cosmos. A Saint.
"Constellation Art! Unique Star: Eridanus!"
A similar light bloomed beneath Wujing's feet, rising to engulf his entire form in gentle, protective radiance. Power flowed through his legs and gradually spread throughout his body.
But it wasn't just divine power flowing through him.
It was trust. Hope. The unbreakable bond of brotherhood.
"This power will allow you to traverse the realms as if you were a god yourself." Bajie's voice carried across the brightening chamber like a benediction. "Godspeed, my brother. May fortune smile upon your impossible journey. And may you find what this world needs most."
The light intensified, preparing to carry Wujing across the boundaries between the 9 realms.
"May you find the AntiGod."