"If you had spoken to father, you could have found out," Red Son said, voice low, and she tugs at the collar of her sweater. Showing the ring of scars there. "It wasn't hard for him to figure out what was really going on with Wukong when his child got the same punishment. You could have also learned then how any love mother had for her former home had died. There is an extremely short list of people she would ever even advise talking to."

He lets go of the collar, glaring up at Azure Lion. "Alone. Tortured. Leashed. And every one he had ever called friend decided he was a traitor and had abandoned him. And as terrible as the monk was to use the circlet, at least he would show kindness. Those pilgrims would show him some decency. Do you expect Wukong to be so above, so untouchable, that he would not cling to what little compassion he was actually given? Do you think his chest so empty that it hadn't been a relief after so long of nothing?"

"How could you call him friend and not understand that Wukong isn't built for being alone?"