Heir of the Sun: Wukong:
@glecm-eyes has a common enemy with Sun Wukong, but what does it change?
Pensive eyes did not retreat from the Luxray as Wukong’s arms remained crossed before his chest. It was a surprise to know that he finally met one of the fabled members of the Lightning Strike Clan, as his own clan held disdain for them ever since their creation. The Sun Clan were Infernape just like him– bred for battle and holders of pride so thick that their practice in heresy has made them staunch targets for the Gods. To think that they, for all their glory, were glossed over by the Lightning Strike Clan was enough to make even Wukong sick to his stomach.
But he didn’t have time to represent his clan and drag Voltara through the mud. Even if she and her people had been pampered by Arceus, there was one thing between them that was more important than the feud between their blood (that he would finish one day).
“Darkrai,” Wukong spat, his tone so acidic that not even a steel-type could shield itself from it. As he narrowed his eyes, he couldn’t help but feel the tips of his fingers about to fall off as he growled. “You think he’s dead? You think YOUR people did ANYTHING to stop HIM?”
“He’s alive. Looks just as he did years ago, too. And I’M going to be the one that finishes him. NOT you, or ANY of your people for that matter.”
Every word stabbed Voltara’s very being, the fierce fiery glare in Wukong’s eyes pierced her heart, causing a deep ache within her. She couldn’t face him head on without wincing. His anger was understandable, for she knew of the Sun Clan ever since she was a mere kitten. Her mother always said “When you become queen, you can be the bridge to bring peace between us and the Suns. You’ve been able to befriend so many unlikely Pokemon, and I believe you can make a difference”, although that difference didn’t seem very likely. While this mattered, what really worried her was that name; a name that brought her clan to tears: Darkrai.
That monstrosity killed the legend of her clan, but it was due to his death that Voltara was born. His spirit was supposedly inside her, however with the death of her clan and the many mishaps on her journey, the Prophecy Child couldn’t be so sure anymore. Like the masses before Wukong, her people were spat upon as she was forced to listen. “You think YOUR people did ANYTHING to stop HIM?” How many times had she heard that, and yet every time it was muttered or even whispered it hurt all the same: although in this moment, it was worse. She just wanted it all to stop...
{ ⚡ };; “It doesn’t matter who brings Giratina’s wrath upon him, his death is the true goal.” Voltara replied lowly, “I just want him to disappear forever. I don’t want him to harm anymore Pokemon. We both know how much of a threat he is... so we have to beat him together. None of our strength alone is going to defeat him.”
Her golden eyes glanced up the sky, looking for some sort of hope, some sort of miracle to end the King of Nightmares. With Wukong bashing so many things down her skull, she couldn’t feel the willpower and determination to fight. Voltara had been running and fighting for so long, her spark diffused, dying slowly as Dialga’s flow of time continued on.
{ ⚡ };; “He needs to die... for everyone’s sake.”
