#wrathful idol madness reborn

[talesofsonicasura]

Madness Reborn

Prologue: The Doll

Warning: mentions of dismemberment and gore. Depiction of dark thoughts. Foul language cause it's Hank.

Knowledge of Madness Combat isn't really needed but I'll explain when it comes up. Enjoy!

Pain. Madness. Death. A common occurrence in a place where the sky is blood red and everyone is your enemy. Reality held together by threads while insanity ran rampant across the dead land. Somewhere in Nevada, these three words are something that'll never be unspoken in one's actions.

Amongst every bloodstained soul, there was one coated in so much murder that his heart is dyed black. Death follows wherever he goes and aims at those unlucky to enter the crossfire. Yet, death couldn't fully keep its grip on him. Even when his heart stopped or body was gone this one soul wouldn't stay dead.

Hatred guides his actions as the madness driven body count shall never stop rising. That is until one day, the most wanted man in Nevada suddenly vanished. He didn't go with a bang, burst of blood nor a lonely death. The reaper went without a single sound.

Truth is that this black hearted soul didn't die. No, he was taken to be dealt a fate worse than death. Trapped inside a body that couldn't move, didn't have a voice, and oh so fragile. Like the very victims slain by his twisted hands. The murderer now the helpless with the final act of being tossed away.

It would be the fate of Hank J. Wimbleton. To fade away as he becomes forgotten. Vanish feeling helpless, scared, and all alone. Well, it should've been if something didn't interfere. For many keep forgetting that nothing is truly set in stone.

Everything was so muffled… and it hurt just as much. How long had he been like this? Hank didn't know. All that transpired gone like a blur. Soft blue sky, towering yet colorful buildings, white fluffy clouds and the sensation of falling before… *shnk*

His bloodless body got impaled on something sharp which took his eyes out in the process. Keeping up with time was already hell enough since the man could no longer see. It only grew worse when something chewed out the side of his face where his good ear was. Now, Hank was left blind, immobile and now fucking deaf.

The only thing that reminded him this new hell was real is the intense pain. Hank felt every bit of damage done to his body constantly. Metal stakes still inside the head, torso, back and arms. A sizable hole in his face that would worsen by whatever pests decide to snack on him.

Pain isn't anything new to Hank. Explosions, blades, zombie teeth, electricity, fire. Whatever can cause harm the man had been on the receiving end. Although it never stayed for long as he either dies or gets patched up by Doc. Even with his insane pain tolerance, this was pure torture to Hank J. Wimbleton.

Hours, days or even months gone by as the assassin suffered through this constant affliction. The feeling of harsh heat, wind or something wet was the only thing that could distract Hank from it all. Yet, how long would it take for the sensations to lose their impact? A thought that made this tortured soul just go to sleep as he couldn't let it spiral further.

It was currently one of those wet moments. Rain because the water kept on pouring down his body way longer than an animal taking a piss. Hank could still smell sadly and he was at the point that rage didn't matter. At least rainwater is more sanitary.

His thoughts were then shot in seconds. Something was touching his body. Hank couldn't identify it as his sense of touch had gone too numb. All he could make out was that it was soft and gentle from how it wrapped around his body. The thing pulled him free of the metal stakes with extreme care.

Hank felt that softness gently caress his head for a moment before everything began to softly rumble. 'Something is taking me.' Whether it was good or bad didn't matter. Anything new at all is better when you're stuck feeling mostly pain for Jebus knows how long. Maybe it would end his pitiful existence…

The constant sensation of cold rain was replaced with the feeling of warm water and what had to be soap. Hank never thought he would be so happy about getting a damn bath. What he could now identify as hands carefully rubbed and squeezed out the soapy water from his body. After a while, the wetness was replaced by soft heat.

Probably a heater since he had been placed on top of something fluffy. Felt like an eternity when all the water was gone did Hank feel a new sensation. The sharp prick of a needle paired alongside the feeling of thread and smooth cloth. Was he getting repaired?

Once in a while he felt the pain of cold scissors tear through his flesh alongside something fluffy being stuffed inside. Other than that, Hank's body began to feel whole again. Last thing he felt from the repairs was plastic over his eyes before his sight fully returned. The one who patched up…had been a child. Well, a giant child.

Definitely not a grunt for his(?) crossless face was a bit too narrow, his body too color, there were fleshy sticks attached to his hands, head, and feet. Mythical parts 2BDamned refers to as arms, legs and neck just like the little lump on his face called a nose. The child's skin being a soft tan, slightly messy chocolate brown hair, brown blue tinted eyed and a visible mouth similar to Sanford.

Now that Hank could see, the youth nor his blue shirt weren't the only thing so colorful as the room was too. Pale chipping yellow wallpaper, blue fluffy blanket, a brown toy creature bearing big ears along a long tail, and drawings full of different colors. Even the child's shirt was more vibrant than anything in Nevada.

"There, all done!" Hank could confirm that this is a boy from the slightly low baritone and squeak of his voice. "It's almost like you're a completely brand new plush!" Wait, did he say…? The assassin saw the truth for the boy turned his body to a small slightly broken mirror. He couldn't believe it but it made perfect fucking sense.

Hank had been turned into one of those big headed dolls with limbs. Thankfully he still had his MAG traits alongside his black face mask, red lense goggles and bandages but the kid had modified the rest. His turban like black bandana was now back, his obsidian trenchcoat returned but now had a gold peculiar chest plate with a red scarf over the top, red pants held by a black belt, thin string now attached to his hand and was that a red tail with a hand at the end??? Hank could admit the tail is a bit cool but still what the fuck.

He didn't know what fucker turned him into a toy but they were going to pay. A slow torture before he disemboweled the bastard and chop his corpse into zombie chow. Hank stewed in rage until he heard the child speak again.

"Now you need a name. I think I'll call you Zhànshì cause you must've braved everything like a warrior. My name is MK and we're going to be great friends." It's not like he has a choice in this matter but he hopes the brat keeps his word. At least the name wasn't bad.

Surprisingly enough MK did keep his word to the doll trapped assassin. Kept him clean, fixed any tears and included him in his activities. The kid would take him practically everywhere with a few exceptions like the toilet. It was how Hank discovered just what kind of world he's stuck in.

A very vibrant colorful city full of advanced technology and various people called Megapolis. There were those who were the same species as the kid while others were more animalistic or monstrous in appearance. From what Hank heard, the kid is a human while these beast-like folk were yaoguai. Everything about this place was the type of shit you see in fantasy/sci-fi.

Hoverboards to high tech vehicles doive down the road, a family of mantis yaoguai ordering food from a human street vendor and holograms giving the news or try to sell products. A sky not missing a sun that can go from blue to orange gold and dark bluish violet before repeating. The biggest thing about this place is not everyone is trying to kill each other.

Nevada was a place where you are bound to get shot or mugged just for ordering a damn hotdog and no one would care. Yet, Hank could see so many different species interact peacefully with only a few disputes but no blood shed. No madness influenced psychopaths, famine, constant gunshots or ruthless dictators. He couldn't say anything about there being no zombies or vampires.

What Hank was getting at is this city is PEACEFUL. The fucking irony that the assassin found himself here and not Jebus as this is probably how the halo wearing Grunt would see heaven. Well almost perfect when he thought of the kid. The place couldn't be perfect if a 7 year old boy lives homeless.

MK squatted in whatever place he could from abandoned buildings to vacant houses. The kid constantly sneaks into a fitness center just to wash up or grab some supplies like water bottles and snacks. Other times he would forage for food, at worst dumpster dive. What possessions MK did have were very few.

A toy monkey, a sketchbook, two pairs of too small clothing, and a homemade book on 'Journey To The West'. That scrapbook being very special as the kid would always tell him stories out of it with the Monkey King, Sun Wukong being his favorite character. It was this character that kept MK going even when he broke down and cried a few times.

Hank would never admit this to anyone but he'd grown attached to the kid. The man couldn't really answer on how the runt wormed his way in. Maybe it was all the positive affection given to his doll form. A stark contrast to the constant pain and hatred he got for most of his life. Might be how much of a survivor MK is.

Doing what he can in this situation and continues to strive even when things go downhill. Or maybe it's because MK is just a good kid. Whatever it was, the boy got through to his black heart. A feat that no one could ever achieve.

If Hank wasn't stuck with this doll body then he could solve a lot of the kid's problems. For now, MK will have to settle for 'someone to talk to' and comfort. It was all he could do for now other than hoping the kid won't have a nightmare.

Damnit! Only a matter of time before things would finally go to hell considering his usual luck. And at the moment he couldn't do shit except hope the kid can get away.

MK had recently been squatting in what had to be gang territory for a week. Hank saw the looks on quite a few people that lived there. Ire, annoyance and downright predatory almost if they found fresh prey wrapped up in a neat bow. Every single one aimed at the kid.

Hank had even PRAYED that MK would get out of there before either bastard made a move. Must've pissed off some god cause not even a second after at least three gang members ran straight for them. A turtle, mantis and beetle yaoguai respectively. Thank god the kid was quick footed but these bastards have a home advantage.

If he wasn't a damn toy, Hank would already be tearing their heads off and ripping out entrails. No one fucking DARES touch what is his. Not his blenders, not his guns, not his Dragon Sword and not his KID. The smoker, Deimos, would tell the assassin that his goggles glow red when he was mad. They must be spotlights right now as Hank is beyond pissed.

It became a blood red sun as the turtle fucker managed to grab the kid.

MK knew he should've left after the fifth day of squatting. It was never a good idea to stay in an area for too long. People would get suspicious or at worst try to go after him. Only thing keeping the kid together is his doll Zhànshì. There was something special about the plush ever since the young boy found it impaled on a candelabra.

Strange, almost like the doll could hear and see everything. MK didn't feel alone or scared when he had Zhànshì with him. It made the child brave and more determined to survive as if someone was there cheering him on. 'There should be a small crack for me to hide around the next corner. I'll be safe since they're too big to fit through.'

A solid plan gone with the wind as a hand went to grab the child from the side. The box turtle gangster had taken a different shortcut to intercept MK. He couldn't move out of the way in time as the yaoguai grabbed his shoulder. MK was so preoccupied with running that he didn't notice… Zhànshì's goggles were glowing.

In a split second red was the only thing the boy could see. The gang, the dark damp alleyway and even the sky became consumed in pure crimson hue. Solid black text flashes throughout the red void, a broken up message played piece by piece.

'Warning!/ Danger detected/ Must Protect/ Form connection?/ Permission Granted/ Ward has been chosen. Engage Wrathful Idol of Madness.' In a blink MK found himself back in the alley but something was different. The turtle mobster who grabbed the boy now laid on their stomach. Large slash marks dug deep across the once pristine shell. And liquid crimson stained the claw of… "Zhànshì?"

He couldn't be imagining this especially when the weight of his precious friend had vanished from his grasp. On how this 12'8 giant of a man shared the exact same albeit much more realistic features with his cotton companion for the past two months. Long black bandana wrapped around his head, the half red/black right arm with those sharp pale spikes jutting out the shoulder, black boots, the black face mask and floating left hand.

MK couldn't deny that the stranger shared the same modifications he did to Zhànshì albeit altered. Pale spikes were at the start of his very long tail, felt was now actual gold tinted steel, and the trenchcoat being torn in a way that it belonged in Death's wardrobe. Even the skin color was the same but the man's held a texture similar to clay.

"I suggest closing your eyes and covering your ears, kid. What's about to happen is something you shouldn't witness." The deep, rugged and growlish voice of what used to be Zhànshì felt softer to MK than its harshly presented tone. Maybe because the child didn't have any reason to be scared of this giant.

Despite the drastic change in form, the man still held that security blanket feeling. Comfort and protection from the dangers of the world. Enough for MK to trust Zhànshì and close his eyes. He was about to cover his ears when the giant spoke again.

"My real name is Hank J. Wimbleton but I'll be Zhànshì only for you kid. No one will hurt you again if I have anything to say about it." A smile spread across the kid's face alongside the wet feeling of tears. "Hank J. Wimbleton… I look forward to it." MK covered his ears without any hesitation.

Against all the muted screams, harsh wet tearing, and hard cracks the boy remained still. Only when two rough callous hands carefully picked him off the ground did he put down his hands. When one of those hands gently ruffled his hair did MK happily look into the lens of his new guardian.

Guessed that mangled doll was more life changing than he thought.

"Breaking News! 52 bodies have been recently discovered across the streets of downtown Megapolis. Eyewitness reports and autopsies have determined the victims were the Pit Viper Gang that ruled over the area. It appears the cause of death ranges from blunt force trauma, decapitation, gunshots, dismemberment to even electrocution. Authorities advise those in the area to proceed with extreme caution. There is no telling if this is the work of a vigilante or something much worse…"

I thought maybe writing something like this would get my motivation up a bit. This is the official prologue for Hank's section of the Wrathful Idol AU: Madness Reborn. It's also my first time officially writing Hank instead of just headcanons so I hope he isn't too OoC.

For anyone curious, Zhànshì means 'Warrior' in Chinese cause I wanted a nickname to go for Hank that's relatable in the vague sense. MK is the only one that can call him this as anyone else face the risk of getting stabbed.

Hank did wipe out that gang if you are curious. He can be quite violent especially if someone pisses him off in some way. Eliminating an entire street gang that got his ire is the same as taking out an enemy base to him.

I tried to write most of this in Hank's perspective alongside adding extra spaces whenever moving to a different scene. Sun Wukong and Macaque will show up but I can't promise it being the next chapter.

Some chapters of Stone Novas are about to be updated soon but this is all I have for now! Until next time folks, continue to thrive in the madness and I'll see you back at Megapolis.

Main

[hyenahunt]

Secret Service: EPILOGUE - 4

Writer: Akira

Season: Winter

Characters: Ibara, Kohaku, Madara, Hiyori, Jun, Nagisa

Proofreading: Remy (JP) & Skyress (ENG)

Translation: haranami & hyenahunt

Jun: That's right, Ibara... You oughta trust everyone around you more, too. C'mon, open up to us whenever you need it.

Content Warning!

Contains casual mention of suicide.

Ibara: Oukawa-shi. Why don’t you cast Mikejima-shi aside and take control over Double Face just as you described?

As the newly-reborn Double Face, cleansed of Mikejima’s colors, you could sign a contract with us — with Eden.

I guarantee that doing so would be to your advantage. I heard through the grapevine that the SS finals place heavy importance on the bonds you’ve formed with other units…

That is to say, the ensemble you’ve created with other idols.

Kohaku: Haha. We’re not too good at that kinda stuff, but I’m afraid I’ll hafta turn you down.

I can’t turn my back on this dumbass just yet… Even though it’d be a lot easier t’get rid of all the things I don’t need and all the obstacles in my way.

Even if the Double Face side of me was alright with doin’ that, the Crazy:B side of me sure wouldn’t be. We four sing for the people who’ve been ostracized from the world of the prim and proper.

Ibara: Is that so? I fear those two faces of yours will grow to detest each other one day. If discord arises within you, your own self-destruction will be all that awaits.

Madara: ……

Ibara: Oh, my. It seems like you’re itching to say, “I’ll protect you if it ever comes to that!” or something along those lines.

But do you really think you’re capable of doing so? You, a selfish, untrusting, brutish monster of a man?

You’re a filthy traitor. You truly put me through the wringer this time, Mikejima-shi.

Madara: It’s your fault for letting me fool you, but I guess you’d get mad at me if I told you that? I’m sooowwy!

Ibara: You’re absolutely infuriating… But that being said, you’re in the right this time. I made the mistake of getting too emotional and letting my guard down. Perhaps it would be unreasonable to take my anger out on you.

His Excellency and those two from Eve wouldn’t have gone through all those inconveniences were it not for my blunders.

Hiyori: It was no inconvenience to me. In fact, as friends of the same unit, I'd rather you share whatever burdens you may bear with all of us.

Jun: That's right, Ibara... You oughta trust everyone around you more, too. C'mon, open up to us whenever you need it.

You're not gonna put us off with it or anything, and we'll support you for sure.

Ibara: ……

Madara: Hahaha! You wanted to dig my grave, but you ended up digging your own! Eeevery single thing you’ve done lately has backfired on you, and it’s been a blast to watch ♪

Ibara: I’ll crush you with my own two hands… another time. I’ve made some gains, so I’ll be the bigger person and let you off with a laugh for now.

But rest assured that I’ll never forget this betrayal.

Hiyori: Ahaha! What a vengeful viper you are!

Ibara: One of the principles of business is to go through trial and error until you eliminate all remaining competition. The vengeful survive, and the lenient are the first to die.

We managed to avoid death this time, so I suppose I’ll chalk it up to good fortune.

Nagisa: …That’s right. We actually gained quite a lot.

Madara: …?! Nagisa-san!

Didn’t you get trapped in the basement of that abandoned temple?

The Gatekeeper had his subordinates monitor you 24/7, so there was no way you should’ve been able to escape.

Nagisa: …That’s correct. I obediently went along with it because I realized that I wasn’t “trapped,” I was simply being protected.

Madara: Protected?

Nagisa: …Apparently, I’m being targeted because I’m most likely to be Father’s successor. He was always taking on jobs that incurred people’s wrath, so he made quite a few enemies.

…His adversaries have been doing a range of hostile things — indeed, some of them are even trying to permanently silence me.

…The Gatekeeper, upon grasping the situation, decided to sequester me in a safe location for caution’s sake.

…At least, that’s what I believe. This is mere conjecture, but I’m sure the Gatekeeper wished to protect you for the same reasons, Ibara. You ran away and left me behind so quickly, though.

Ibara: I-I was simply making a strategic retreat!

If I had charged in alone, I would have died in vain! Instead, I chose to assemble my private army and come up with a plan to rescue you, Your Excellency!

I also received notice that His Highness Hiyori and company were behaving suspiciously in the vicinity. Believe me, I truly do hold you in high regard—

Nagisa: …Yes, I’m well aware of what type of person you are.

…You wouldn’t have been able to succeed and gain power were you of a different temperament.

…But truthfully, I wish you had tried to rescue me as single-mindedly as Hiyori-kun did, without a thought for your own safety or the consequences that would follow.

Hiyori: Heheh ♪ Ibara's light years behind me in terms of experience!

Nagisa: …I’m not trying to insist that one of you is right or wrong, though.

…Hiyori-kun went too far, and it’s not good that he implicated Jun as well. The answer that he arrived at wasn’t perfectly correct.

Jun: Nah, I mean, it wasn't a big deal to me. I'd even commit double suicide with Ohii-san if I had to.

Hiyori: Jun-kun, you idiot! You really must treasure your life more than that!

Jun: Wait, wasn't that a cool thing to say? How'd I just get scolded instead!?

Nagisa: …Fufu. People often look up to us as part of ES’s Big Three, calling us the perfect idols and such…

…But we’re still growing as well.

…This experience was useful simply for reminding us of that.

Madara: Nagisa-san. Sorry for interrupting while you’re looking all content, but would you mind going back to that temple basement?

I’m under orders to keep you inside there until the end of the preliminaries…

Even though I wish my job could’ve ended after I got you down there the first time.

The Gatekeeper must be getting sick and tired of me by now, so he’ll probably use your escape as an excuse to punish me.

He can consider this a breach of contract, after all.

Kohaku: Looks like the higher ups really are keepin’ their eyes on ya. Geez, how come everyone’s out for your blood?

Madara: I’m only reaping what I’ve sown. It sure has been rough, though — they’ve all been making it harder for me to do bad things and go against the rules.

But just as guns will never become obsolete, I’ll be able to survive as long as I make myself useful.

The Gatekeeper has been trying to distract me by taking Anzu-san hostage and stirring up strange rumors in Okinawa…

All so he can keep me at his beck and call.

He probably wants to gain control over me so he can use me as a handy little weapon before I grow dull.

I’ve been getting some behind-the-scenes support in exchange, though, so I’m not complaining. I mean, that’s what taking jobs is all about.

You make each other accomplish certain tasks, and in the end you both profit. That’s just how society works.

Nagisa: …Yes. At long last, I’ve come to understand the inner workings of society.

…I’ve grown a bit smarter and stronger yet again.

…That’s why I have no reason to resent you, Madara-kun. In fact, I should be thanking you.

…In the past, during the times of war, I was a member of the faction that caused your friends pain. That alone is reason enough for you to begrudge me.

…However, the cycle of revenge is as sorrowful as it is futile.

…I’d prefer it if we could put aside all the pain we’ve caused each other, along with any plots for vengeance, so that we may reset our relationship for a while.

…I want us to be on equal footing, you see. If you accept my offer, we’ll be able to have mutually beneficial exchanges.

Madara: ……

Nagisa: …But if you refuse, I’ll do everything in my power to crush you.

✦✦✦✦✦

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[wclrider]

‘  there are many things that will fit beneath your skin  ’

𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃.           ↳   𝙰𝙲𝙲𝙴𝙿𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶.

𝙸𝚃   𝚂𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙼𝚂   𝚁𝙷𝚈𝚃𝙷𝙼𝙸𝙲𝙰𝙻𝙻𝚈,   no   discernable   shape   or   body   beneath   the   thickened   fog   before   the   lord   at   first.   to   manifest   to   soon   may   be   a   death   sentence   ------------   ah   but   it   feeds   upon   the   madness   it   senses   here,   the   wrath   displayed   with   ego.   man   was   always   so   eager   to   bloat   themselves   upon   their   own   achievements,   but   something   rings   out   that   this   one   was   a   bit   different.   common   ground   displayed   in   wishes   to   escape   different   things   and   to   wreak   havoc   upon   false   idols,   and   nonbelievers.

𝙵𝚁𝙾𝙼   𝚃𝙷𝙴   𝙵𝙾𝙶   𝙸𝚂   𝙱𝙸𝚁𝚃𝙷𝙴𝙳   𝙰   𝙷𝙾𝙻𝙻𝙾𝚆   𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙼.   mass   still   writhing   within   itself,   nanomachines   losing   itself   within   the   whole,   charred   bones   and   hollow   bright   eyes   cut   through   all   that   it   sees.   intriguing   to   know   how   far   the   man   had   gotten   in   understanding   the   nature   god   reborn.   it   peers   deeper,   deeper   still,   some   inhuman   hollow   noise   rattling   from   all   around,   a   light   brush   of   witnessing   him   ----   and   should   be   continue   on,   their   paths   would   intertwine   once   more.   wrath   swaddled   by   two   is   stronger   than   one,   a   weapon   donned   to   tear   her   kingdom   down.

𝙸𝚃𝚂   𝚅𝙾𝙸𝙲𝙴   𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙴𝚂   𝙻𝙸𝙺𝙴   𝙰   𝙲𝙻𝙰𝙿   𝙾𝙵   𝚁𝙰𝙸𝙽   &   𝚃𝙷𝚄𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚁,   sudden   and   unmistakable.   a   thought   that   was   not   his   own   sharply   speared   into   mutated   grey   matter.

❝   𝙼𝙾𝚁𝙴   𝚃𝙷𝙰𝙽   𝚃𝙷𝙴   𝙷𝚄𝙼𝙰𝙽   𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙳   𝙲𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳   𝙶𝚁𝙰𝙿𝙿𝙻𝙴   𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷...   ❞

𝚆𝙰𝚂   𝙸𝚃   𝙰   𝙼𝙴𝙰𝙽𝚂   𝚃𝙾   𝙴𝙼𝙱𝚁𝙰𝙲𝙴   𝚃𝙷𝙴   𝚂𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙼?   it   certainly   assumed   so,   for   what   creature   would   be   foolish   enough   to   deny   all   they   could   be   together?   eager   as   it   was   to   shed   old   host,   the   idea   of   being   used   once   more   leaves   it   wrathful   and   tentative.   still   does   it   leer   closer,   the   static   hum   of   the   thing   lending   itself   well   to   the   mesh   of   hollow   bellowing   from   the   creature.   𝙰   𝙲𝙷𝙾𝚁𝚄𝚂   𝚁𝙴𝚂𝙾𝚄𝙽𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶   𝙰𝙲𝚁𝙾𝚂𝚂   𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂   𝙷𝙰𝙻𝙻𝙾𝚆𝙴𝙳   𝙶𝚁𝙾𝚄𝙽𝙳.   defiant   heart   did   beat   like   a   drum   in   the   iron   steeds   chest,   the   swarm   cold   feel   it.   nanomachines   breaking   off   from   the   fold   to   scout,   and   truly   enthralled   with   what   it   finds.   old   likeness   abandoned,   ‘ perhaps, ’   it   wonders   ‘ it   is   more   like   a   rhythmic   thrum   of   the   factory   he   inhabited.   𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚂𝚃𝙰𝙽𝚃,   𝙷𝙰𝚁𝚂𝙷,   𝚄𝙽𝚁𝙴𝙻𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶. ’   it   did   so   adore   that   in   hosts.

❝   ... 𝙱𝚄𝚃   𝚂𝙾𝙼𝙴𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶   𝚃𝙴𝙻𝙻𝚂   𝙼𝙴   𝚈𝙾𝚄   𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆   𝚆𝙴𝙻𝙻   𝙰𝙱𝙾𝚄𝚃   𝚃𝙷𝙴   𝙶𝚁𝙾𝚄𝙽𝙳𝚂   𝙾𝙵   𝚃𝙷𝙴   𝙷𝚄𝙼𝙰𝙽   𝙸𝙼𝙰𝙶𝙸𝙽𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽   𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃   𝙼𝙰𝙽   𝙵𝙴𝙰𝚁𝚂   𝚃𝙾   𝚃𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳   𝚄𝙿𝙾𝙽.   ❞

[ngce]

Not Safe, But Good

The Men We Desperately Need Today

Article by Greg Morse

Staff writer, desiringGod.org

I can still remember being startled by the thought: Jesus doesn’t seem very nice.

Unquestionably compassionate, gracious, and patient, Jesus also said and did things that, as I read through Mark, surprised me. The kind of things that today would get him trolled on Twitter and flagged on Facebook.

It was then that I began to think that if Jesus was not “nice,” if he — the one to whom all Christian women also look (2 Corinthians 3:18), and yet, the epitome of a godly man — did not fit within my vision for manhood, then it, not he, needed to change. The more I considered him — the more I considered the long lineage of godly men in the Scriptures — the more I stood confronted: Could these fit within my current conceptions of masculinity?

What about your conception? When you consider a good Christian husband, an upstanding churchman, a godly man, what qualities come to mind?

Traits such as generous, thoughtful, agreeable? Is this man slow to impose, quick to listen, ready to sympathize? Does he speak gently and serve graciously? Does he routinely defer to others’ preferences? Something about this ideal seems unquestionably right — but if this tender side is all, it also should strike us as uncomfortably wrong.

Godly men will indeed emanate compassion, humility, service, and love. This is true. But is this the whole truth? Has the ideal of manhood in the modern church become just a gentle shadow of what God made it to be?

Not Safe, but Good

When we teach about masculinity, do qualities like strength, initiative, zeal, and courage make our list? When we assess men for church office, and when we look for small group leaders and godly mentors, do we commend men who would make good shepherds — industrious, passionate, resilient men, able to corral sheep and willing to combat wolves?

Do we celebrate male strength, courage, zeal, and initiative because we know these are required in order to guard, protect, subdue, and lead? Such men of God who are gentle exactly because they are first strong? Men like Gandalf, who, after exuding his strength of presence, could then softly say to Bilbo, “I am not trying to rob you. I am trying to help you.” A tiger, not a kitten, can exhibit gentleness because he is first strong.

Endangered is that species of lionhearted masculinity that bears Aslan’s description: “not safe, but good.” Our present ideals, like the ones I once held, do not require goodness to make men safe, because they ensure that men are safe regardless of goodness. The man reborn in this image says nothing uncomfortable, rallies no charge, and shows little, if any, initiative. He is goaded to be convictionless, passionless, perhaps even Christless, if but subdued.

But such is not the vision of he who made man. Instead of blunting his sharp edges, God has a different solution for creating good men: rebirth, looking to Christ, and training in righteousness. Godliness must balance his natural perils. He achieves mature manhood through adding the fruit of the Spirit, not subtracting his God-designed nature. Kindness, self-control, compassion flavor his strength, courage, determination — not eclipse them.

Where Have the Men Gone?

Such men — gentle and strong — present a paradox to the world. His hands build up his household, wrestle with his boys, sip tea with his daughters, and grip the hilt of his Sword against the agents of darkness (Ephesians 6:10–20). He is a godly warrior who sleeps in his armor — fierce and meek and good wherever he finds himself. The description can, by the aid of the Holy Spirit, be redeemed: “Thou wert the meekest man that ever ate in hall among ladies; and thou wert the sternest knight to thy mortal foe that ever put spear in the rest” (Le Morte D’Arthur).

We err when we divide the two: brutal on the one hand, soft on the other. While our society increasingly chooses the latter, some wonder: Where have all the men gone?

We can read, as of an alien species, about men who “through faith conquered kingdoms, enforced justice, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the power of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, were made strong out of weakness, became mighty in war, put foreign armies to flight” (Hebrews 11:33–34). Men who actively sought for glory, honor, and immortality. Men of faith who hoped for a better country than the one they had. Men who risked much, lost much, and gained more. Men who lived by faith in the living God.

Lukewarm religion, let’s never forget, makes for lukewarm masculinity. And lukewarm masculinity allows too many men to pass by church doors in favor of Islam, Jordan Peterson, or simply ESPN on the road to destruction.

Dying Flame of Masculinity

As I surveyed the lineage of godly men, I honestly wondered how many saints of old would feel discomfort with the feminization, not only of our society, but also in some of our churches.

Would we emasculate men of old? Would we not chide Abraham for wandering, Jacob for wrestling, Joshua for fighting, Elijah for mocking, Noah for madness, Job for arrogance, Daniel for incivility, Nehemiah for violence, Nathan for high-handedness, John the Baptist for name-calling, Paul for divisiveness, and the Son of God for brandishing a whip and turning over tables in the temple?

Have we chosen the conveniences of niceness over the discomforts of godliness? I fear someday lying comfortably beneath the inscription, “Here lies a father, husband, churchgoer — just a really nice guy.”

“Nice” says nothing of spine, of edge, of valor, and thus it can say little of righteousness or purpose. Nice requires no courage, no conviction, and no willingness to make enemies with the wicked. Jesus warns against such palatability: “Woe to you, when all people speak well of you, for so their fathers did to the false prophets” (Luke 6:26).

Now, we may be tempted, where we have swerved off the road, to overcorrect the error. This would lead us into the other ditch of parasitic strength. Such abominations endure in our day, in all their cruelty, abuse, and cowardice. We must not exchange “good, but not strong” for “strong, but not good.” We cannot charge forth in the flesh instead of being led by the Spirit. We must not settle with feeling like men in our own strength; we must become better men through divine power and self-sacrifice.

Men Set Ablaze

One step on the road to recovery is to reemphasize that unnerving trait of many men of old: godly jealousy. We must reclaim the pulse and convictions of a godly man, not just his actions.

Our God is a jealous God (Exodus 20:5). He will not share his glory, or bride, with another. And he fashions men who increasingly burn with his own righteous jealousy. These men, ablaze with zeal for the glory of God, for the health of the church, and for the souls of the lost, will, in certain circumstances, erupt to shatter the status quo. Zeal for the glory of God — not cultural civility or secular sensitivity — is the proper harness for biblical manhood. Godly jealousy makes good men dangerous — to the world, the flesh, and the devil.

Consider Moses, the meekest man on the earth (Numbers 12:3). Enraged by his people’s idolatry to break God’s tablets, he melted their golden calf, and made them drink it (Exodus 32:20). His love for his people and God’s glory acted resolutely against their idolatry.

Consider David, the poetry-writing shepherd-boy who could not simply stand by and watch an uncircumcised Philistine defy the armies of the living God — no matter how menacing he stood (1 Samuel 17:26). He could not listen quietly while his God’s name was defamed.

Consider Phinehas, an African whose name meant “the Negro.” Jealous with God’s jealousy, he turned away God’s wrath by impaling two high-handed sinners in the climax of their romance (Numbers 25:6–13).

Consider Elijah, a man tormented by the unbelief of Israel. He called a public showdown with the prophets of Baal and mocked them for hours (1 Kings 18:20–40). He longed for the people to know the true God and follow him alone.

Consider Paul, a former persecutor of the church who sat provoked as he saw the city full of idol-worship instead of Jesus-worship, and publicly lifted up his voice to challenge the great philosophers and rulers of Athens (Acts 17:16). He lived for kingdom business while many laughed at, opposed, and beat him.

All the King’s Men

Consider Jesus Christ, who grabbed whips, named names, and promised to return with weapons drawn. He is the Lion of Judah who knelt down and played with children (Mark 10:14). And the Lamb from whom men shall run, unsuccessfully begging mountains to crush them rather than face his wrath (Revelation 6:16).

He destroyed “arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God” (2 Corinthians 10:5), crushed the dragon’s skull, and yet did not break a bruised reed (Isaiah 42:3). And he went to Calvary, not because niceness led him outside the camp to die among thieves and garbage, but because he burned with a passion for his bride, his Father’s name, and his own glory (John 17:4; Romans 3:25–26; 1 Peter 3:18).

Spurgeon’s last words in the pulpit portray the proper ideal:

[Jesus] is the most magnanimous of captains. There never was his like among the choicest of princes. He is always to be found in the thickest part of the battle. When the wind blows cold he always takes the bleak side of the hill. The heaviest end of the cross lies ever on his shoulders. If he bids us carry a burden, he carries it also. If there is anything that is gracious, generous, kind, and tender, yes lavish and super abundant in love, you always find it in him. (Spurgeon: Prince of Preachers, 288)

The King’s men will be found, with Christ, in the thickest parts of the battle. They will eschew wasting their lives venturing nothing, growing warm for nothing, exercising no initiative, taking no stands, building no fortitude of faith, engaging in no spiritual battle, carrying no burdens, planting no flags on unconquered hilltops. The men of this King, for the very reason that they despise playing with foam swords against the forces of evil, create the safest culture for their women and children. Dangerous men under God, holding one another accountable, will not stand idly by as the bears maul those they should rather protect and nourish.

Meek and fierce. Tough and tender. Leaders and servants. Not safe, but good.

Men like Jesus.

[talesofsonicasura]

Madness Reborn

Chapter 1: Dharma and Karma

This was a bitch to write thanks to Writer's block so it might be awkward at the end. I'm trying to add more worldbuilding as the story progresses since Hank and MK's worlds are drastically different.

By the way, this particular chapter gets gory so if you guys came for any fluff, then I'll put markers for any that wish to skip. Type of violence being dismemberment, decapitation, electrocution, bisection and such. Madness Combat is a violent especially with our protagonist Hank. Also, incoming trauma towards children! Enjoy.

*Crck!* Fragments of a fine white lotus shaped porcelain plate laid ominously on the pristine stone floor. Tortured agonizing screams and maliciously vengeful roars tore these cries of help asunder. A thick aura of hatred, torment, madness but also sorrow follows behind the fierce howls. Not one of a monster but that of a mortal.

A frighteningly familiar sensation that can only be felt by one single soul. To this person, there was one other being who once held a malevolence just as great. He had gotten a lot better since then but this soul barely had any good kharmic energy to match a candlelight.

Yet that very tiny candlelight held a chance to grow and have their dharma renew. That hope is enough for action to be taken. Start preparation for a small trip that needs to be done. If her dear monkey can have his soul saved, so too could this new foreign one.

"'I am Hank the Zhànshì, you ain't getting out of my…'/Seems my goggles and mask were taken by a squirt." It was surprisingly warm for a sunny day in the middle of Fall. Morning sun had barely broken the last sunrise remnants so most people weren't awake at this hour. The perfect time for a certain child and his giant guardian to get ready for the day ahead.

Childish laughter rang from one of the city's very few forested parks. MK was currently being held up in the air from the scruff of his shirt by Hank's tail. The assassin's goggles wrapped around the boy's head, his face mask around the child's neck. Without these two items the man's facial features were easier to see.

He had no nose, eyebrows or visible eyes. Just a huge cross on his face as the horizontal one furrowed similar to an amused person's eyebrows. The man didn't have a lower jaw but a dark grey prosthetic bearing two large fangs. Lipless upper jaw presented long razor sharp teeth for a horrid underbite. A sight made more terrifying from the long tongue which hung as Hank howled in amusement.

Well it wasn't really scary for the young boy since he impishly stuck his own tongue out. The cross for a face and floating hand were natural traits of Hank's species: Grunts or Crosslings. Both eyes alongside their mouths were just concealable. MK had seen the giant's eyes on quite a few occasions. Nearly sunken pitch black bearing ominous red slits for pupils.

For why he's so big is because Hank is a Magnified Grunt or MAG. Actually a failed one since his magnification got interrupted halfway through. Otherwise the man would've been around 7 ft at most. As for the metal jaw… "A psychopathic zombie clown eviscerated it from pummeling my head a few times." MK didn't really question that bit and took Hank's word for it.

"Now why did you snatch my goggles and face mask?" The question held an amused tone rather than what usually would be irritation for him. Another sign that MK dug himself a place in the assassin's heart: Stealing From Hank is a death sentence. He brutally killed his fair share of thieves dumb enough to try.

"They look cool so I thought about trying them on-ZHÀNSHÌ!" MK giggled uncontrollably when the assassin began licking his cheek. It wasn't the first time the man had done it. Since MAGs were closer to their animal instincts, grooming tendencies were an uncommon trait.

MK would often compare it to doggy kisses since Hank didn't have any lips. The man only stopped his licking when the kid gave him back both items. "Knew that work. Now come on, I can't get you a pair of goggles if you aren't with me at the store." He barely managed to put on the face mask before MK tackled him in excitement.

For someone barely even reaching his knees, the seven year old had some impressive strength. "Thank you bàba!" MK didn't notice the giant stiffen as his patchwork brain blue screens. He heard that word many times during his entire stay in this world so the failed MAG knew what it meant. Father.

Was…was he? 'Can I really think of myself as his bàba?' Even when MK fired a thousand questions about his new goggles while they headed over to the city's shopping district, Hank remains lost in thought. Too distracted to notice the feeling of being watched.

"What a fascinating addition to my collection. Glad I was able to snatch one of the last remaining three for such a good bargain!" Within a pitch black abyss, the silhouette of a single figure could be seen before the only light source. A fluorescent lamp that shone down on a stone statue of an enchanting fox. Its 10 tails all fanned out, sharp teeth in a vicious snarl and eyes sharp in rage. The unnerving lifelike visage of a cornered predator.

More light came pouring inside when the door to the room flew open. "Sir. I believe I found a very unique item for your collection." A photo was handed over to the shadowy person. The darkness kept many from seeing the malicious smile that etched itself on the stranger.

"How peculiar yet so intimidating! Those sharp spines, powerful claws and ferocious visage! A new species or a survivor of a near extinct one? Call an assembly now! This fantastical beast cannot slip through my fingers."

More lamps suddenly came to life one by one, each with a terrible truth. Hundreds of statues sitting atop their own pedestals. Rage, fear and even teary sorrow painted on every stone face. One empty pedestal held a picture depicting a bloody Hank standing in a street full of fresh corpses.

"Another bust!" The assassin could only pat his little ward on the head. Both of them had been searching for a place to get some goggles. A task proving harder than it should be as every store had an issue. Goggles were sold out, not in MK's size or there were no options to order any kind. Hank would have threatened the clerk like he usually does but he wasn't in Nevada and MK is there too.

Thus they lucked out from being target practice for the weapons he stole off that gang. Not like the dead pricks have any more use for them now. After the tenth shop, Hank believed a snack break was needed. He currently sat outside a sweet shop for his order of egg tarts, red bean buns and sweet egg buns while MK played on the store's small playground.

In Nevada a lot of things were very scarce to the point they're either nonexistent or overpriced to hell. Anything sugar related was just that since a desert covered wasteland isn't exactly a good place to farm, w/o bandits and Zeds. Hank's recently acquired funds would be enough to pay for the order and leave a nice tip.

The man's swaying tail came to a halt when someone sat down on his table adjacent from him. EVERYONE had given this particular spot a wideberth the moment Hank set off some killer intent. Only stopping so the waitress could take their order without issue.

He looked up to see the culprit being a human woman. Quite beautiful with neatly braided long raven hair, soft light peach porcelain skin, slim elegant figure draped in a simple pink dress covered in white lotus embroidery. Other than her closed eyes, Hank felt something was off with the woman.

A familiar otherworldly feeling that he got being around Jebus, Phobos, the Auditor and even damn Tricky the Clown. The fact he DIDN'T feel like hurting someone just solidifies it for Hank. She wasn't human but instead something closer to a god.

"I hope you don't mind me sitting here for a moment. You seemed awfully lonely so I thought of providing some company." Her voice so soft, light and soothing made Hank even more wary of her attentions. "Who are you really?"

The woman tilted her head a bit in curiosity at the miniscule killing intent from the assassin. Although it wasn't fully malicious in nature because of the child currently sliding down the plastic slide. "Just a mere curious soul. How are you doing today?"

Hank kept silent for a moment as if looking for any red flags. "Irritated." If it wasn't for this strange pacifying aura, he would be growling right now. To have something like violence engraved in your soul to suddenly be cut off from it felt WRONG for Hank.

Not even the MAG part of him could imagine causing harm . "Hey bàba! Look at what I can do!" Hank focused on MK who was now doing a handstand. The kid was slightly shaky but otherwise had great balance. His tail wagged pridefully at the sight much to the man's betrayal.

When Hank went to face the woman, she was already gone. Almost if the lady never existed if it weren't for the small note on the table and a pair of goggles… The headwear was a similar type as the assassin's but had sky blue lenses instead.

'I hope these shall greatly assist you and your child. Be wary though as more dangerous beings have taken notice of your peculiar nature. Mercy isn't something they shall give. It's best to tell the difference between a potential friend and foe.' Hank haphazardly pocketed the offending paper.

Cryptic gods were something he absolutely loathed as they liked to dance around the damn answer. Only clue he had on the lady's identity being the whole lotus motif. Maybe MK might have some answers. For now, he got the kid's goggles and a warning.

Night was quick to swallow up the day over Megapolis. Too fast for those more conscious of the dangers that prefer stirring trouble in total darkness. Hank and by proxy MK can easily agree with the sentiment. After they had enjoyed their snack break, it was about time to find a squatting spot for the night.

The earlier you are to an abandoned building, the less likely someone else would be living inside. It didn't help that they weren't having much luck either. Nearly every place in the area had eerie signs of someone still living there. Doesn't help that the occupied homes had no attics or basements they could slip inside.

As it looks now, MK and Hank will be sleeping outside tonight. The latter being more on edge about the prospect especially when that little note is still in his breast pocket. He could see and smell the signs of sabotage on every building.

It aggravated the man's animalistic maternal instincts when MK grips his hand tighter. The boy's new goggles sat neatly atop his head. Strangely the headwear was the perfect fit for the youth and felt completely comfortable to wear.

MK put on his new goggles in hopes that they give him some courage. It seemed to work as everything felt peaceful under a blue tinted view. Probably explains why Hank rarely takes his off except for bedtime or alone with his ward. Speaking of said grunt, he had finally stopped to check the city map he nabbed from a tourist stand.

"Hmm… there should be a camping store nearby. Probably get ourselves a tent or even a tarp if we're lucky." MK paid more attention to looking at the scenario with his goggles than Hank's mumbles. Right now they were in the industrial district which meant dumpsters and abandoned businesses would have all sorts of goodies to find.

Now the brunette never really saw anyone but Hank with his new goggles. Something that made his double take more reasonable when he saw someone else. It was an approaching human man with a gold aura around him intertwined by thick black smoke strands. Flairs that weren't there when MK didn't have the goggles on.

Almost if it could see… His heart dropped as blue tinted eyes saw the sheen of metal in the man's jacket sleeve. This man wants to hurt them. MK didn't know if it was the sinister smoke or the ornament butterfly knife sliding out the sleeve into an awaiting. But his right hand frantically dove towards Hank's pocket. He took whatever he pulled and… *BOOM*

*Warning! Incoming gore related violence.*

The assassin immediately went stiff from the brutal tempo of a very close gunshot. His eyes caught someone lying in a growing pool not too far from them. Part of the guy's head was gone and his new gun in a shaken MK's hands. It didn't take a genius to know what happened… Kid had gotten his first kill.

Things only grew worse once the dead man's associates came swarming out from everywhere. All human with every one brandishing weapons from swords, lances to even shock batons. A sight that flared a primal instinct within Hank. One he still wasn't used to: Protect.

MK found himself pressed securely against the giant's chest, the gun now absent from his small hands. Hank's black trenchcoat and floating hand blanketed the small boy from sight of the impending slaughter. The Failed MAG got on all three, his tail arched back like a scorpion as the pale spines on his body crackle in black electricity.

Hank took a deep breath then let out his killing intent in a bloodcurdling roar. The stillness of the night torn asunder by pure fury, hatred and malice. All unlucky to hear it were either paralyzed with fear or collapsed from the overwhelming ferocity. Even the district itself shook as every animal resident fled in sheer terror.

The duo's attackers were the unluckiest victims for whatever bravado and fighting spirit they had shattered. Realization that this particular target wasn't just a predator. No, the beast is something none of them could ever fight. They foolishly try to hunt wrath's incarnate, an Asura.

Every fighter went to turn tail, some dropping their weapons, most tripping on their feet and very few were able to turn around. A bad move for Hank viciously slammed his tail into the ground. The street shattered underneath his prey as black electricity carved out destruction.

Hank was on them in seconds for a bloke in the far back found sharp claws tearing their neck out. The sight enforced their fear of death as it seemed the giant had the power to teleport. In truth, it was something far greater: probability.

Some men manage to raise their weapons and stomach the fear. If they could at least hurt the beast then maybe there's a chance to survive. Even a sliver to capture their target as a more burly warrior swung his large battle-axe. An idea crushed literally under Hank's beartrap maw alongside the smuckerfuck's head.

The Grunt's long tongue licking up every bit of gold tinted crimson viscera on his face hurled that hope instead of just some blokes' dinner. Screams fill the night as Hank continues to paint the street red. Bullets through the heart or head were merciful compared to what happens by the beast's own hand.

Heads shredded by teeth, black electricity, boots or claws. Limbs ripped off like a doll in the hands of an angry child. The unluckiest prey found themselves bisected by hand or disemboweled by teeth. Grisly display of wrath that makes even a devil piss themselves.

Despite everything, none of that blood and gore reached the child held protectively by the 'asura'. Not a single drop when sharp teeth tore out a spine, pale spikes shred through the neck flesh, or electrically charged claws destroyed someone's rib cage. MK was shielded from the brutality and safely wept in Hank's chest.

Then something happened that made the small child still. It wasn't the fading screams of their attackers nor the heavy iron scent. Before the last thug went silent, Hank let out one last roar. "NO ONE MAKES MY BABY CRY AND WALKS AWAY ALIVE!"

*Gore ended.*

Baby… The giant who had been caring for him really thought of MK as his child. He had been on his own for so long that such a reality will always be a dream. An idea the boy craved whenever he saw children being happy with their families, blood or adopted. Something he had believed became impossible as no one would want a killer as their son. Even thought that his relationship with Hank would be nothing more than guardian and ward.

But it did come true. He really does have a family now. Something MK held onto as if fearing it would slip from his grasp. Hank enforced it because he never let go as the man looked for shelter. Even when he had finally sat down within a small temple deep in the woods and covered MK's small body with the bloodless side of jacket.

MK would soon drift to sleep from the soothing beat of Hank's heart as large arms cradle him protectively. For now, this family will rest peacefully before the statue of a woman that eerily looks like the person Hank met. Safe from the dangers that their actions will cause.

"Breaking News! A massacre consisting of 36 bodies have been found in the industrial district. Shockingly every single victim was immortal. Film production for a scene in the Monkey Cop reboot has been put on hold as officials attempt to find clues on Megapolis' vigilante dubbed The Asura. Only lead so far is the blood found in a small temple for the Goddess of Mercy, Guanyin. Strangely there was water under the statue's eye."

MK got his first kill so he's a bit messed up from it. Trust me when I say that him living on the streets was something he chose as the alternative is worse in his opinion. Hank isn't really one to express comfort in words but his actions. First kills are difficult for someone to process especially out of self defense.

And yes, it was Guanyin that Hank end up encountering. Guanyin is the Goddess of Mercy and a main character in Journey To The West as she was responsible for Sun Wukong's chance at redemption.

She is depicted as a deity who sees that every person has a chance to become enlightened in one of their incarnations. In one iteration where she was sent to the Underworld, Guanyin nearly turned all of Hell into a paradise from her good kharmic energy and King Yama, the one in charge of this realm, had to make her leave. Yeah, she practically devastated the Underworld with good vibes.

Guanyin is often depicted with a pacifying aura that practically neutralizes any chance of violence around her. Anyone, she is definitely going try and help Hank similar to Sun Wukong. For MK's goggles, to put it simply it has the ability to tell friend or foe amongst strangers.

Now for why Hank knew she was a deity in disguise, some of his enemies either had godlike powers or were some type of godly entity such as Jebus, Phobos and the Auditor.

He been on the receiving end when it comes to such things but also came in contact with a sacred artifact bearing the same power. As for the Asura, they are wrathful gods portrayed in various versions of religion including Buddhism. Sometimes they are depicted as a form Buddhas can become when their fury is summoned.

Trust me when I say that Hank and MK killing immortals is going to land them in a lot of trouble. Especially since the Collector hires immortal mercenaries more often than yaoguai. Just know that immortals are harder to kill that enchanted weapons are mostly required if one doesn't have any good alternatives such as magic.

Next chapter is the consequences and should be introduction of our two monkeys. Until next time folks, continue to thrive in the madness and I'll see you back in Megapolis. BTW, the scene with MK and Hank at the beginning is based on this.

[talesofsonicasura]

Masterlist

Oneshots

Fallen Royalty (Blue Exorcist/AHIT)

Spooky Gratitude (Digimon/DMC)

Balan's Promise(BWW/P5)

Erase the Future (Pokemon/DMC) (Being reworked)

Unappreciated Hunter (MH/AHIT) (Being reworked/Lost original documents ☹️)

Stone Dove (Knack/JJBA)

Keeper of Dreams (Kirby/DMC)

Requiem of Love (Pokemon/JJBA)

Guardian of the Forest (AOT/Digimon)

His Past (JTTW/Yu-Gi-Oh)

Sage's Vow (LMK/Persona)

Reader Imagines

Joestar Misadventures- Sun Wukong: Starter, 1, 2

Corazon with a Monster Hunter s/o: Starter

Jotaro Kujo with a Cyber Sleuth s/o: Starter

Eddie Brock/Venom with a Pokemon Trainer s/o: Starter,

Ichigo Kurosaki/Zangetsu/Hichigo with a Pokemon Trainer s/o: Starter, 1

LMK characters first meeting their s/o (Manners Maketh Man): P1

Hero is Back!Sun Wukong with a Stand User s/o: Starter

Glamrock Freddy and Gregory's Special Assistance: 1, 2

JTTW 96!Sun Wukong with a Cyber Sleuth s/o: Starter, 1

Hank with a Devil Hunter s/o?!: Starter,

LMK Characters with a Comic Artist s/o: P1

MKR! Sun Wukong with a Persona User s/o: Starter, 1

Nevada's Oasis:

Gardener- Starter

DSB Sun Wukong with a Duelist s/o: Starter, 1, 2

Ryomen Sukuna and Ghostbuster!Reader: Starter

LMK Sun Wukong and Macaque with MK's Guardian: Starter,

Saiyuki Sun Wukong with a Game Designer s/o: Starter

Black Seastone Route- 1

By The Sea, There He'll Be/ Mer HIB!Sun Wukong x Reader: Starter, 1

Emmet and Digimon!Reader: Starter, 1

Sun Wukong and Macaque with MK's Parent: Starter , 1, 2

MKR Sun Wukong with a Time Lord s/o: Starter

Crocodile Rock/ Mer!MKR Sun Wukong x Reader: Starter, 1

Axolotl Dreams: Starter, 1

Josuke Higashikata with a Grunt s/o: Starter

AUs

Broken Toys

Monkie Kid: Venomous Tales

Fell Guardian

Inner Demons

Fast Shadows

Sticks and Stones

Taming Madness

Price of Power

Boy and his Beasts

Re:Destiny

Wrathful Idol

Theories/Personal Headcanons

Order and Chaos: Safi'Jiiva and Altreon

Six Eared Macaque and Blood Monkeys

Sun Wukong's actions in Lego Monkie Kid

Sun Wukongs I know

Jak and Daxter Time Travel

Fierce Deity Mini Theory

What ifs/Ideas

What if Ichigo got the powers of Sun Wukong?

Josuke Higashikata (P4) meeting and being trained by LMK's Macaque

MK finding and raising 2020 Sonic

Eddie Brock and Venom have a makeshift family drop on them: 1

Random Scenarios: 1

Sonic's Warp Ring Glitch Misadventures: 1, 2

New Species: Glitch

Worldbuilding: ReNexus,

Writing Challenges: Starter

Curses: DigiEcho

Fierce Mergence

Stories

Diamonds and Voodoo(JJBA/Crash Bandicoot: Pro., 1

Wonderful Hunter(BWW/MH): Pro.,

Stone Novas(Pokemon/LMK): Pro., 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Origami Dreams(Jujutsu Kaisen/Paper Mario): Pro.,

Thief's Ambition(P5/Digimon): Pro.,

Crossroads(Jujutsu Kaisen/Pokemon): Pro.,

Stand Needed(JJBA/AHIT): Pro.,

Sonic May Cry (being reworked)

Shadow of Iron(LMK/Iron Man): Pro,

Trip Down Memory Lane(Venom/BWW): Pro,

Updates:

Prologue and Chapter 1 of Stone Novas has proper terms for Yaoguai added.

Excerpts added to Fell Guardian AU.

Glitch updated.

Part 2 of Sun Wukong and Macaque with MK's Parent now has a link to ReNexus.

Next part of Wrathful Idol has been added.

Next part of Madness New World has been added.

Link to MK's assassin uniform has been added to Wrathful Idol.

Madness New World been moved to Masterlist 2.

Jotaro Kujo with a Cyber Sleuth s/o is now a mini index. Can find the rest of the parts in Starter.

Next part to Clowning Around has been added.

Hank with a Devil Hunter s/o and Eddie Brock/Venom with a Pokemon Trainer are now a mini index. Rest of the parts are in Starter.

Sun Wukong and Macaque with MK's Guardian is now a mini index. Parts can be found in Starter.

Majora's Bane has been added to Wrathful Idol AU on the main masterlist.

Prologue has been to the Wrathful Idol AU on the main masterlist.

Chapter 2 and 3 of Stone Novas has been updated.

Chapter 1 for Madness Reborn has been updated and links been added on the main masterlist's Wrathful Idol AU. (Just know that writing at the butt crack of night isn't a good posting time.)

[talesofsonicasura]

Heads Up

You guys will be seeing more AU ideas popping up. The main reason being is I make to sure I have a copy of my personal notes just in case Google Docs glitches. A good chunk of my stories gotten corrupted so I'm still recovering them.

For Wrathful Idol's Madness Reborn side, please know that some of the action will be a bit more gruesome than my other stories. Whenever a gory section pops up for a chapter, I'll give you guys a warning and when it ends. None of the characters are going to get mauled but monsters or OC enemies won't be safe.

If I do write the BloodEclipse pairing, Sun Wukong x Hank J. Wimbleton x Macaque, it'll be written in side chapters instead of the main story. This is for folks who want to read the story without a ship over their heads. Oh and MK is going to be a bit messed up before we reach canon.

I will be adding MK's current age on the main Wrathful Idol page for particular chapters. The other sides of Wrathful Idol will get a drawing of their respective ward and their idol together. It's why I haven't given an update for Majora's Bane yet.

I will be writing headcanons again soon. Been suffering from writer's block and my life going haywire doesn't help. I might also be moving in the near future as the state I live is becoming too expensive and dangerous to stay anymore. Especially the streets as a family riend died from a fatal car crash cause no one cares about managing the speed limit.

For anyone living in Britain or any place pertaining to it, I suggest you guys stalk up on food, cash and supplies now cause an economic crisis is coming. Queen Elizabeth's funeral alongside the upcoming coronation are going to be expensive. It cost 13 million just for the prince's funeral alone.

I wish everyone has a good and safe rest of the year. Good luck to you all.