Chapter 10: Forged in Fury
961 Words
White Serpent Lake mirrored the storm clouds above, its surface as still and dark as polished obsidian. Sun Wukong stood at the water’s edge, his reflection fractured by the scars crisscrossing his fur. Behind him, Yun leaned heavily on Tang Sanzang, her breathing labored and her veins pulsing black beneath parchment-thin skin.
“The entrance lies beneath the third eye of the serpent,” she whispered, pointing to a jagged rock formation that pierced the lake’s center. “But the guardians… they’re not legend.”
Wukong sniffed the air. The metallic tang of bloodworms mixed with something older—a musk that reminded him of the vaults beneath the Dragon King’s palace. “Dragon-tainted,” he growled. “Your ancestors really knew how to make enemies.”
Yun’s laugh turned into a cough. “The Black Tiger Armory wasn’t built to make friends.”
Tang dipped his staff into the water, recoiling as the surface solidified into glass where it touched. “Temporal stasis. The entire lake is a trap.”
“Was,” Yun corrected. She pressed her poisoned palm against the shore, and the water recoiled as if burned. “My blood opens the path. For now.”
As the lake parted, revealing stone steps slick with bioluminescent algae, Wukong’s torc vibrated with increasing urgency. The deeper they descended, the heavier the air grew—thick with the reek of rusted iron and the static buzz of dormant machinery.
The chamber at the bottom defied mortal engineering. Pillars of black steel stretched upward into darkness, their surfaces etched with fractals that hurt to look at. Between them stood rows of obsidian sarcophagi, each pulsing faintly like diseased hearts.
“Ancestor engines,” Yun rasped, her eyes fever-bright. “Forged during the War of Heavenly Division. They consume blood and spit out war.”
Wukong approached the nearest sarcophagus. His reflection in the glass lid showed not his face, but the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit reduced to smoldering ruins. “These aren’t weapons. They’re abominations.”
Tang traced the carvings on a pillar—scenes of ancient battles where soldiers wielded flames that burned souls instead of flesh. “The Qin Dynasty’s lost legions. History claims they deserted. In truth…”
A low hum filled the chamber. Yun staggered to a control dais overgrown with crystalline fungi. “They became the fuel. But the armory needs a spark.”
Wukong’s tail lashed out, shattering the dais before her hand could touch it. “Not happening.”
Yun wheeled on him, venom-dark tears streaking her face. “You think I want this? The West Dragon King’s fleet circles our villages! Celestial auditors demand child tributes to ‘balance karma’! What choice do we have?”
The chamber trembled. Somewhere above, water roared as the lake’s stasis field collapsed.
“Choice?” Wukong grabbed Yun’s collar, lifting her off her feet. “These machines eat generations. Your grandparents knew that when they buried them!”
A projectile whistled past Wukong’s ear, embedding itself in a pillar. Three-pronged, dripping sea venom—a dragon harpoon.
“Speaking of choices,” Tang said dryly, “it appears the West Dragon King has made his.”
The invaders poured in through flooded tunnels—amphibious humanoids with gill-slits and pearlescent scales. Among them strode the West Dragon King himself, his coral armor festooned with still-screaming mortal souls.
“Return what you stole, little thief.” The dragon’s voice bubbled with the pressure of deep trenches.
Yun spat at his feet. “Your kind stole first.”
The Dragon King’s trident sparked. “Then let us end this cycle of… borrowing.”
Chaos erupted. Wukong met the Dragon King’s charge with a thunderous staff strike that cracked the chamber floor. Tang’s sutras wove protective barriers around Yun as she scrambled toward the sarcophagi.
“Don’t!” Tang shouted.
But Yun was already slashing her palm across a control rune. The chamber lit with actinic light as the ancestor engines awoke.
“NO!” Wukong disengaged from the Dragon King, leaping to intercept. Too late.
The sarcophagi hissed open, revealing mummified warriors encased in biomechanical armor. Their eyeless faces turned toward Yun as one.
“Protect…” she gasped, “the living.”
The ancient soldiers moved faster than anything so dead should. Dragon-kin disintegrated under plasma blades that sang with the voices of their long-slain wielders. The Dragon King roared, summoning a tsunami through the tunnels.
Wukong grabbed Yun as the chamber flooded. “You’ve doomed your people!”
“No.” She pressed a data crystal into his hand—a glowing shard containing the armory’s coordinates. “Now they’ll have a chance.”
The West Dragon King’s trident pierced her chest. Yun’s last breath fogged the crystal as she whispered, “Burn heaven down.”
The ancestor engines went critical.
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Wukong surfaced miles downstream, Tang’s unconscious form slung over his shoulder. Behind them, White Serpent Lake boiled, its waters glowing with absorbed radiation.
The West Dragon King’s corpse washed ashore hours later, half-melted and stinking of ionized flesh. Of Yun and her machines, there was no sign.
Tang stirred at dusk, his first words hoarse but clear: “How many survived?”
Wukong stared at the crystal in his palm—its light now dimmed. “None. Everyone.”
As night fell, farmers in distant valleys reported strange lights beneath their fields. Tools went missing. Irrigation channels flowed uphill. And in the soil, something ancient began to grow.
**Next Chapter: "Harvest of Steel" – The ancestor engines spread through the mortal realm, twisting villages into war factories. Sun Wukong must decide whether to protect heaven or join the revolution—as a new player emerges from the ashes of White Serpent Lake.**
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