Lost in Chaos (LMK fanfic)

Chapter 2-Between Shadows and Light

Macaque stepped through the shadow portal, gritting his teeth as a sharp pain lanced through his arm. "Ow—again? Seriously?" He flexed his fingers, which twitched uncontrollably, like they were auditioning for a bad dance routine. "Great, just what I need—my powers staging a mutiny."

The battle with the Nine-Headed Demon had left him bruised and battered, but this pain wasn't just physical. It felt deeper, like something was gnawing at him from the inside out. "Of course, it couldn't just be a normal injury," he muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "No, it's gotta be ominous."

Ignoring the ache, he pressed on, his boots crunching against the cold, rocky ground as the air around him grew heavier. Shadows stretched and twisted, forming shapes that seemed to leer at him as he descended into Diyu, the underworld.

"Nice ambiance," Macaque remarked, his voice echoing faintly. "Real 'vacation hotspot' vibes."

The Court of the Ten Kings loomed ahead, a massive, foreboding expanse of darkness and stone. Monolithic pedestals jutted into the void like ancient sentinels, their surfaces scarred with the passage of time. Macaque paused, his golden eyes flicking across the emptiness.

"Where are those old fossils?" he muttered, folding his arms. "Figured they'd be too stubborn to lose their grip on this place." He smirked faintly. "Guess even the Ten Kings have their limits. Probably tripped over their own egos."

As he ventured further, the oppressive darkness thickened, forcing him to stretch out a hand to guide himself. His fingers brushed cold stone, then a thick curtain. Pushing it aside, he stumbled into a small, cluttered corner of the court. A single flickering candle cast a feeble glow over a chaotic mess of books, scrolls, and papers strewn across a battered desk.

"Ah, the filing system of a true professional," Macaque quipped, eyeing the mess. He approached cautiously, his fingers hovering over the papers as if expecting them to bite.

He began rifling through the stack, his expression shifting between curiosity and annoyance. Most of the documents were either faded beyond legibility, or crumbled to dust at the slightest touch. Still, one passage caught his eye—a detailed account of Wukong's legendary stunt: erasing the monkeys' names from the Book of the Dead.
Macaque let out a low whistle. "Of course, you just had to show off, didn't you, 'Great Sage'? Classic Monkey King—poking the cosmic bear and somehow getting away with it."

The Book of the Dead, he read, wasn't just a list of who lived and died. It documented every life's deeds and misdeeds, a karmic ledger that governed the balance of existence. Macaque's brow furrowed as he read about the consequences of tampering with it: deals, bargains, and penalties that usually ended in disaster.

"Messing with this thing was either the dumbest or the gutsiest move ever," he muttered. "Knowing you, probably both."
He sifted through the remaining scrolls, hoping for something useful, but his patience wore thin. "Seriously? All this lore, and not one cheat code for dealing with shadowy pains or nine-headed maniacs?" He slapped a particularly stubborn book closed, sending a puff of dust into the air.

With a resigned sigh, Macaque straightened and slung his bag over his shoulder. It had been days since he'd left Flower Fruit Mountain, and all he had to show for it were a few half-baked theories and some very sore limbs. Still, it was enough to warrant a visit back. If anyone could help him piece together this puzzle, it was Wukong.

But as he reached for his powers to open another portal, the sharp pain returned with a vengeance. This time, it hit like a lightning strike, clawing through his arm and into his chest. Macaque staggered, clutching his arm as his breathing grew ragged.

"Oh, come on," he growled through clenched teeth. "What, now you're charging me an activation fee?" The realization crept in, unwanted but undeniable: the pain wasn't from the Nine-Headed Demon—it was from his powers themselves. Every time he used them, the agony worsened.