Chapter Text
Throughout the Heavenly Realm, extraordinary tales were as established as the sun rising east to west was. Bravery and heroics, pain and tragedy, profound circumstances; there was no god who could escape from having their tale told.
In fact, when a god first ascended, the newfound attention drove their past into the scrutinizing limelight. Anything that could be found out would be found out. And even once the novelty faded away, the present would also eventually become the past too, wouldn’t it? Everyone knew that the mortal life was only a mere flicker in a god’s mythos. Thus the appetites of loose lips were guaranteed to never hunger, for heaven had excess news to gorge on.
Though, just as everyone knows how the lives of gods function, everyone knows the nature of humans a lot more. Humans are greedy creatures. A thirst constantly quenched becomes agonizing when finally withheld. Therefore, imagine how terrible the thirst, when for the first time no information could be found on a particular god.
The day he ascended, the skies turned into a dark storm, wind blowing and a low buzz in the air. The ground shook with might that only one other god's ascension could compete with. That god was infamous, so some gods began to feel flickers of unease. What if the new god was just as crazy as the last one? Still, most talked to each other in eager anticipation, curious on who would appear.
Yet no imagination could prepare them for what had lain before them: not a dignified general, beloved prince, nor wise scholar. No– it was someone much more peculiar.
He was a young man in tattered black armor, his tall and lanky body unnaturally pale. His inky-black hair tangled into a long ponytail while a silver scimitar dangled at his waist. He spoke no words and wasn’t showing acknowledgement to the esteemed people around him. Instead, he stood there breathlessly in a trance, as if he had just been running for his life. A suffocating aura of despair reeked through him as much as ghostly qi did. The most notable thing about the man however, was the mask he wore.
It was ghastly white with a haunting smile painted on, as if a ghost of the real thing. At first it was startling because of its unexpectedness but once the image registered, the mask left its viewers with a prickling wave of gooseflesh.
The mask looked far too similar to a half-smiling half-crying one.
Shocked murmurs exploded; who would dare wear such a mockery of heaven?! Emotions boiled over with the majority in outraged apprehension or cautious interest. Martial gods began to prepare their swords while civil gods whispered furiously in their private communication arrays. Something was most certainly about to happen.
An older god decided to take the beginning initiative. Based on the armor, the god could tell that this person was a warrior of the battlefield. He himself was a martial god, so he felt compelled to at least take the youth out of his daze.
“What’s your name, soldier?”
The man snapped his head up, the voice seemingly breaking his trance. The god internally cringed from the sudden movement but remained unmoved on the outside. This kid sure was weird. The kid got even weirder when, instead of addressing his elder like a normal, respectful person would do, he ignored him completely and acted as if he just remembered a life-shattering memory.
“His Highness…”
The whisper was so soft that the god wouldn’t have heard it if not for its anguished tone. His Highness? Which one was he talking about? There were about a hundred of those here in heaven. How would he even know a highness from here? Or was he talking about a mortal highness? Something here wasn't right. The god was about to interrogate further but the masked man started to back away, growing speed in his steps.
Now, of course, bolting is not necessarily the proper reaction to ascending into heaven. Normally, if one has dedicated their life to reach the stars, said person would then admire the profoundness of at last grasping them. They would walk pleasantly alongside Ling Wen as she guided them to the magnificent Jun Wu, who would give them a warm welcome. They would begin to build temples and gain believers. They would settle down, becoming another of heaven’s own.
The masked man did not do any of that. Instead he sprinted, furiously determined to find a way back to the highness he spoke of. The martial gods picked up the chase alongside him, suspecting foul play. The others followed to stop the fool’s fit of delusion. (Nobody lucid would ever willingly want to descend, this guy was still clearly in a daze of some sort.) Everyone bustled through the city, trampling bystanders in the process. Yet no matter how fast the martial gods were, the young soldier kept flying by, dashing around structures with a practiced scurry that seemed like he'd lived here his whole life. The running went on for awhile and the more he ran, the more desperate he seemed to become. Truly, this new god was resolved to leave.
As luck would have it, the masked man accidentally cornered himself into an alleyway after about an incense time; leaving him trapped. The gods then began to encircle him like predators, coming closer and closer. He was severely outnumbered, one against many, with no chance of winning unless he was a freak of nature.
Sadly the soldier was not yet a freak of nature. Despite this, his vicious resistance was extremely thorough to the bitter end. Even if he lost, was beaten unconscious, and afterwards dragged back to the capital, quite a few of his opponents were nursing scimitar and/or force wounds. Not to mention the poor gods who were trampled over. The commotion that he stirred up was so great that when the gods presented the masked man's cold, limp body to Jun Wu, his eyebrows raised a sliver in surprise.
Or maybe, his eyebrows were raised in a different surprise.
Perhaps what surprised Jun Wu wasn’t the chaos that the masked man created,
But instead something different.
Something unbeknownst to the other gods.
Something… more sinister.