Myriad Heavens: Rise of the Rune God

Chapter 263: Chapter 264: Chaos at the Doorstep

The alarms were still screaming when Wukong slipped out of the open cell.

Red lights flashed along every corridor in harsh, rhythmic pulses. Heavy boots thundered in the distance, growing closer with every second. Multiversal-level detection arrays swept the detention block in overlapping waves, searching for the escaped prisoner’s energy signature. The air itself felt charged, thick with the sharp scent of activated formations and the low hum of weapons powering up.

Wukong’s golden eyes narrowed.

*Not good.*

He could already feel three different scanning principles locking onto the area, probing, searching, hungry for any trace of Multiversal power. At full strength he could smash his way out of this ship without breaking a sweat, but that would only bring the entire vessel down on his head. The captain he fought previously was an Adept-tier Multiversal. There were at least two more Experts somewhere on board, and who knew how many Advanced-tier subordinates ready to pile on. Fighting his way free right now would be messy, loud, and stupid. The kind of stupid that got even the Great Sage Equal to Heaven temporarily killed and forced to rebuild from a backup somewhere inconvenient.

So he did what he did best.

His body shimmered.

In less than a heartbeat the tall, golden-eyed monkey vanished. In his place stood an ordinary metal dustbin, slightly dented from years of rough use, with a scuffed lid and a faded warning label that read ”Waste Only.” The transformation was flawless. Even the faint smell of old cleaning chemicals clung to the metal.

Wukong’s consciousness sat inside the transformed form, thoroughly offended.

*I, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, reduced to the form of a wastebin. This is a new low. If the brothers ever find out about this, I’ll never hear the end of it. Bajie would laugh himself sick for a thousand years. Even Sha Wujing would make that quiet disappointed face of his.*

A pair of Multiversal guards rounded the corner at high speed, weapons already drawn and glowing with ready principles. Their spiritual senses swept the corridor like searchlights, harsh and thorough. One of them paused right in front of the dustbin, boots stopping inches from the dented side.

”Anything?” the first guard asked, voice tight with urgency.

”No residual Multiversal signature,” the second answered after a careful sweep. ”The scanners are clean. He must have already left this section. Or he’s cloaking better than we expected.”

The first guard kicked the dustbin in pure frustration. The lid rattled loudly. Wukong resisted the powerful urge to kick back and send the man flying through the nearest bulkhead.

”Keep searching. Captain wants that monkey found before we jump. He’s already in a foul mood, because the monkey almost defeated him in battle.”

They moved on, boots pounding down the corridor as more alarms joined the chorus.

Wukong waited until their auras faded completely, then quietly rolled himself toward the nearest wall panel. A maintenance hatch was half-hidden behind a thick conduit. He shifted again — body shrinking rapidly, fur becoming sleek gray hair, limbs becoming small and quick, tail lengthening. A common ship rat now sat where the dustbin had been, whiskers twitching, dark eyes sharp.

*Much better. Still undignified as hell, but better. At least rats get to bite people.*

He slipped into the air vent with practiced ease and began moving through the ship’s internal pathways. The vents were narrow, dusty, and filled with the constant low vibration of the ship’s systems. His Rule of Boundless Metamorphosis, refined over countless years and battles across realms, made the transformation nearly perfect. Combined with the unique way his principle warped detection arrays, most scanning methods simply slid off him like water off oil. To the ship’s sensors he registered as just another insignificant vermin scavenging for crumbs.

As he scurried through the maze of vents, voices drifted up from the corridors below in clear fragments.

”...ancient energy signature just spiked across every outer array!”

”How strong are we talking?”

”Strong enough that the captain is already yelling loud enough to crack bulkheads. They’re saying it’s an old sealed ruin that just woke up. The readings are clean and deep — high-authority stuff. Older than most of the sectors we’ve raided.”

Another conversation floated up from closer to the command levels, voices sharper and more urgent:

”What about the escapee? The monkey?”

”Captain’s new orders. Ignore him for now. One Beginner Multiversal isn’t worth missing this opportunity. We’re going into emergency void warp immediately. All combat teams prepare for full deployment the moment we arrive. Priority is the ruin.”

A third group of crew members spoke near a junction, their tones a mix of excitement and nerves:

”You hear that? They’re abandoning the hunt just like that. Whatever this ruin is, it must smell like free treasure and rare principles.”

”Or it smells like a trap that’ll wipe half of us out. I’ve been on enough of these ’once-in-a-lifetime’ scores. Half the time the lifetime ends early.”

”Shut up and gear up. Captain doesn’t care about your feelings. He cares about the haul.”

Wukong paused in a quiet stretch of vent, whiskers twitching as he processed the information.

*They’re dropping the hunt just like that? Whatever this ruin is, it must smell like free treasure on a scale that makes even Adept-tier captains forget about locking up a monkey. Interesting. And dangerous.*

He kept moving, gathering more fragments of information as he went. Some of the lower crew were openly excited, already dreaming of inheritance vaults, rare principles, and the chance to leap ranks overnight. Others were nervous, muttering about how anything powerful enough to make the captain abandon a Multiversal prisoner was probably more dangerous than it looked. A few older hands, voices rough with experience, warned that ancient ruins rarely gave without taking something first.

Wukong found a quiet junction where several vents met and settled there as the ship’s engines began to howl with rising power. The metal around him vibrated harder. Warning lights flashed even in the maintenance spaces.

The vessel entered void warp.

The familiar, unpleasant stretch of compressed space pulled at everything. Reality folded and stretched in ways that made even a Multiversal stomach (or rat stomach) twist uncomfortably. Wukong braced his small body against the metal wall, staff still transformed into a tiny hidden form pressed against his side, and waited it out with gritted teeth. *Hate this part. Always have. Feels like the universe is trying to turn you inside out for fun.*

When the warp finally ended and the ship dropped back into normal void with a heavy shudder, he immediately pushed his senses outward through the hull.

What he felt made his tiny rat heart skip a beat.

Chaos.

The void outside was no longer empty or calm. It had been ripped apart. Space hung in ragged, bleeding sheets that leaked raw, chaotic energy into the darkness. Principle storms spun and collided in every direction, creating secondary explosions that lit the void in violent flashes of color and force. The local region felt like millions of sectors’ worth of universes had been detonated at once and the aftershocks were still rolling outward in endless waves. The pressure of clashing Multiversal auras was thick enough to taste even through the ship’s hull.

Dozens of Multiversal auras clashed in a vicious free-for-all around a massive ancient structure floating at the center of the storm. The structure’s outer barrier was already torn open in multiple places, glowing edges marking where something powerful had forced its way through. Bodies and reforming energy signatures drifted through the chaos as temporary deaths reversed themselves in slow, painful reconstructions. Spatial wounds bled. Laws screamed against each other. The entire area looked like the aftermath of a minor multiversal war that was still ongoing.

Wukong stared through the hull with his spiritual sense, golden eyes wide even in the small rat form.

”...The fuck?”

He kept staring, unable to look away from the sheer scale of the destruction. Principle storms the size of planets collided and birthed new ones. Auras flared and died and flared again as cultivators reformed and threw themselves back into the fight. The ancient structure at the center sat like a calm eye in the middle of a hurricane, its torn barrier inviting and deadly at the same time.

*Nobody told me the multiverse was this dangerous. Or this loud. Or this full of idiots trying to kill each other over a doorway.*

A long, heartfelt sigh escaped the small rat body. The sound was tiny in the vent, but the feeling behind it was enormous.

He leaned back against the cool metal of the vent wall, the transformed staff resting against him like an old companion, and closed his eyes for a second. Memories of quieter days rose unbidden — the taste of immortal peaches under a clear sky, the sound of wind through mountain trees, the simple pleasure of not having to run or hide or fight for every breath.

*Sigh... I want to go back home and continue eating my peaches. Is that so much to ask? Just one quiet century. Maybe two. Three at most.*

Outside, the pirate ship’s higher-ups were already barking new orders over the internal systems. Combat teams assembled in hangars with the heavy clang of armor and weapons. Greedy voices discussed how to claim a share of whatever waited inside the newly opened ruin, arguing over formation positions and who would take point. No one was thinking about the escaped prisoner anymore. The monkey had become yesterday’s problem, forgotten in the face of bigger, shinier opportunity.

Wukong opened his eyes again and peered through a small gap in the vent plating at the shredded void beyond. The peaceful days of quietly munching peaches under a quiet sky felt very, very far away — almost like they belonged to a different lifetime.

He tightened his tiny grip on the transformed staff. A reluctant, crooked grin slowly formed on his rat face, full of the old, familiar mix of irritation and rising excitement that always preceded trouble.

*...Well. Since I’m already here... and since these pirates were rude enough to lock me up in the first place...*

The grin widened, showing sharp little teeth.

*It would be a shame not to invite myself to the party.*

He began moving again through the vents, this time toward the outer hull sections closest to the chaos. His mind already worked on the next transformation — something that could slip out into the void unnoticed, something that could survive the principle storms long enough to reach the torn barrier. The Great Sage Equal to Heaven had not planned on attending a multiversal free-for-all today. He had planned on escaping, finding a quiet corner of the void, and maybe stealing a few peaches if any immortal orchards happened to be nearby.

Instead, the multiverse had dropped a warzone in his lap.

Wukong’s golden eyes gleamed in the darkness of the vent.

The ruin did not care who walked through its doors.

And neither, in the end, did he.

The Great Sage had arrived at the worst possible party.

And he was already deciding how to make it worse for everyone else.