On the first day, God created himself.

  On the second day, God created the world.

  On the third day, God created the concepts that govern the world.

  On the fourth day, God divided the world into nine realms.

  On the fifth day, God filled the world with man.

  On the sixth day, God was killed by his own creation.

  And on the seventh day, God was…

  The king slumped against his lavish throne as another impact rocked the palace walls. Crystal chandeliers swayed like hanged men from above, their gentle chiming a macabre counterpoint to the screams of his subjects. With each explosion, dust was released from rafters that had once witnessed heartwarming coronations, now bearing witness to an ending. His ending. Their ending. Ceprun’s ending.

  “Where there are gods, there is a golden light. A light that consumes all that it touches. A light that cannot quite be called destruction. For it is neither evil, nor good…”

  Zhu Bajie’s snout twitched as a golden light bathed his throne room in its overwhelming intensity. His massive frame, once imposing in its royal regalia, now seemed diminished by that light. The crown that had passed through generations sat heavy on his brow, each jewel a reminder of the legacy about to be snuffed out.

  “And do you know why, brother? It’s because it’s beautiful… It really makes one wonder, could such a thing still be considered war? If not, what the hell would you call this? What would you call a beautiful war?”

  From his composure, one might assume that he was a worthless king who cared not for the cries of his people.

  They'd be wrong. So very wrong.

  His right hand man, Sha Wujing, knew how much the situation was eating away at his king. He'd seen that same stoic mask during their many journeys together. He vividly remembered the moment Zhu Bajie first took up the throne during the kingdom’s most desperate time of need. He was wearing it then too. That same stoic mask.

  “What are your honest thoughts, brother? Do we have a chance?”

  Sha Wujing glanced out the palace windows and immediately grimaced at the sight of the ruined kingdom. There was a time that the kingdom of Ceprun had stood as a beacon of hope for humanity. A defiance against the gods themselves. There was once a time indeed.

  “Not a snowball's chance in the nine hells. These aren’t just any deities, Bajie. Even among the deities, they are on a completely different level… Heaven’s Royal Deck.”

  The palace walls groaned, as if merely invoking that name had the power to shift the world. Somewhere below, support beams collapsed with a sound like breaking bones. The cries of the masses, Zhu Bajie’s people, rose and fell like waves, each wave fainter than the last.

  “Say, brother. Do you remember when we first met?”

  “...Of course I do,” The king’s right hand man somehow managed a smile. “Though I’d like to forget all about that version of myself. In those times, I was a weak man who resorted to violence at the drop of a hat. I used my power irresponsibly. No different from the deities who terrorize us now.”

  The beast-man named Zhu Bajie released a sound that could be considered laughter. It rumbled from deep in his chest, defiant against the apocalypse outside.

  “Haha! I wouldn’t go that far, but yes, you were quite the troublemaker. In the earlier days, you even gave Wukong a run for his money when it came to trouble. The number of times I had to apologize on behalf of you two… Still, I don’t regret any of it.”

  “...”

  “It does make me wonder though, did the gods plan all this from the very beginning?”

  Sha Wujing’s hand strangled the imposing staff held between its grasp.

  They had been a thorn in his side since the moment he'd drawn his first breath. Those filthy tyrants who oversaw the world as if it were nothing but a dollhouse—ruling over it from the comfort of their thrones above. “Heaven,” some called it. To him, the term “landfill” suited those shitheads far more. They weren’t deities who deserved worship. Rather, they were pigs who should be crushed beneath the excrement stuck on the bottom of his boots and slaughtered by the judgment of his Divine Artifact.

  “I swear, heaven must be a terribly boring realm if you need to orchestrate genocides for entertainment…”

  “Boring indeed.”

  Zhu Bajie rose from his throne with the slow dignity of a king who knew his reign was ending.

  “Well then. I'm off.”

  “You will die.”

  Sha Wujing didn’t so much as add a drop of varnish to his words. He meant no disrespect whatsoever to his king, he had simply shared the honest truth as he saw it.

  “Oh trust me, brother, I harbor no illusions of victory. I don't even dare hope for it…”

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  Bajie moved toward the great double doors that served as the entrance to the throne room. Each step echoed in the trembling chamber, a drumbeat marking the last moments of an era.

  “That being said, I must fight for my people. For the children crying in their mothers' arms, for the elders who remember my days as a humble general, for every soul who has called this kingdom their home.”

  Zhu Bajie took another decisive step forward. Then, several more.

  His right hand man, his brother, his sworn ally who had been by his side for several decades, watched his king march towards his death. He wanted to stop him, but he knew he couldn't.

  After all, he'd known this moment would come.

  Like him, Zhu Bajie was born under a star. That meant he was a rare existence. People like them had a habit of finding themselves in impossible situations.

  “And what of me? What would you have me do while you're busy getting yourself killed?”

  Realistically, the silence had probably only lasted a few short moments. Enough for Zhu Bajie to finally reach the large entrance to the throne room. Yet, Sha Wujing felt as if he were standing with bated breath forever.

  “Gather the heroes, of course.”

  “!”

  Sha Wujing's staff clattered to the floor.

  “This kingdom is finished,” Bajie continued. “And many more will join it in the flames. The cycle will continue, realm after realm, until every world has been consumed by their hunger. But if we plan on winning this war against the gods, then they are our only hope.”

  “You don’t mean…”

  The Prophecy of the Six Heroes.

  It is said that eons ago, when the despair of humanity had reached its peak, the very cosmos gave birth to six warriors. Their mission was simple—to defeat the wicked gods and finally put an end to the war between man and deities.

  Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Delta, Epsilon, and lastly, Zeta.

  These are the names of the warriors who rose up and claimed the title of “Heroes.” Since that day, every millennium, without fail, these six chosen warriors are reincarnated by the world to once again save humanity from the tyrannous deities.

  It is the duty of a Saint to find and gather those heroes, wherever they may be…

  “Have you lost your mind?!”

  …But it is nothing more than that.

  A prophecy. An apocrypha. A tale shared by those pointlessly clinging to the hope that they really could be saved from the evil gods.

  “The six heroes?! That children's tale?!” Wujing's voice cracked like a whip. “You, the one who always called such beliefs the ‘desperate delusion of the powerless’!? Now you stand there and tell me to put my faith in that delusion?! To believe in these supposed heroes?! Utter rubbish! That’s what you’re spewing!”

  “...Yes, that’s correct.”

  “–!”

  Bajie turned to face his sworn brother, 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.

  Wujing staggered backward, the strength in his knees ebbing away with each breath.

  “...Even if–if–such heroes exist, where would I begin to look? The prophecy claims the heroes can be born in any realm. There are nine realms, Bajie! Nine entire worlds! And six heroes scattered among them…? Do you understand what you are asking of me?!”

  “...Yes, I do.”

  For a moment, a heavy silence filled the air. Then a bitter laugh bubbled up from Wujing's chest. Both his gaze and arms gave out and fell to the floor.

  “Have we really fallen so low that we chase children's stories? Like desperate old fools grasping at myths and legends?” His voice was so low that one would think it had been suppressed by his overwhelming sense of defeat.

  “Let me be clear, this isn't an order. I won't force this burden on you, brother. This kingdom will be ash and memory long before you could complete such a mission. Should you find the heroes and return here, you wouldn’t even have a kingdom to protect… Honestly, I have no right to ask you to carry this weight.”

  “You speak as if I actually could complete such a mission.”

  “Because I know you can,” Zhu Bajie responded without hesitation.

  Until now, every word he had uttered was backed by an uncertain undertone unfit for a king. His desperation, his anxiety, his bitterness, all of it was present in every word. Except those words. For the first time that night, Zhu Bajie spoke with absolute certainty. His eyes held the same unwavering faith that had gotten them through every impossible battle over the years.

  Conviction fit for his stature.

  “I believe in you, Wujing!” he proudly declared, as if remarking on something he had absolute faith in. “No matter how impossible the goal was, you've always found a way! You're the most persistent person I've ever known! And the most loyal friend any of us could ask for! So, I ask you, my dearest brother…”

  Zhu Bajie extended his hand, not as a king, but as a friend.

  “Will you do this? One more time. Will you follow this old fool’s desperate wishes one last time?”

  Wujing remained silent for a long moment, his hands pressing against the coldness of the marble floor. Or maybe it was his body that had gone cold and sensitive. Whatever the case, it wouldn't change the fact that two choices now stared him in the eyes. Or so it seemed. In reality, however, people like him were the type in which only one choice was present.

  “I can't promise I'll find these mythical saviours. The nine realms are beyond vast. But, I can promise to try my damnedest!”

  His voice was steady and resolved. Looking up to meet his king's gaze one final time, Sha Wujing took hold of his hand with a firm grip, as if seizing it.

  “So yes, you stubborn pig... I'll do it! I’ll find those heroes!”

  A grin split Bajie's lips, transforming his battle-worn face into something almost boyish. His meat lips curled to the edges of his face, filled with pride.

  “I knew you would.”

  It was at that moment that blinding light erupted from Bajie's back. The radiance took the shape of a perfect circle containing the image of a crystal-clear river flowing through the cosmos. It looked as if a star were being born. The same divine symbol blazed on his elongated ear. That birthmark was proof of what he was. What they were…

  Saints.

  “Constellation Art: Eridanus!”

  With a roaring chant, Zhu Bajie commanded that light. Golden light bloomed beneath Wujing's feet, rising to engulf his entire form. Power flowed through his legs, spreading throughout his body like warm honey. But it wasn't just divine power coursing through him.

  It was trust. Hope. The unbreakable bond of brotherhood forged over decades of shared struggle and triumph.

  “With this, you should have no trouble passing through Noah’s barrier…” Bajie's voice grew distant as the light intensified around Sha Wujing. “Godspeed, my brother. May fortune smile upon your impossible journey. May you find what this world needs most… May you find… the six heroes.”