Five hundred years have passed like a knife, and the glory of Journey to the West has long since withered into ashes. Gods and Buddhas are disappearing, evil spirits are growing and spreading like crazy vines, the wind is howling in Black Wind Mountain, and the sandstorms in Huangfengling are blocking the sun. All the once sacred places have become hunting grounds for the carnival of monsters. The people of destiny awakened from the dust of chaos, with the power of the sky sleeping deep in their blood, but they were burdened with a heavy fate that no one knew. The golden hoop is like a cold curse, imprisoning the six roots and also imprisoning the truth of the past that is covered by heavy fog.
He stepped into this collapsed China alone, and every step he took was stepping on the decaying bones of legend. Giant centipede insects are entrenched on the top of the collapsed ancient pagoda, and the shrill screams of the White Bone Lady echo in the deep valley for a long time. Every time the iron rod in his hand was swung, the wind and clouds stirred up, and the seventy-two transformations of magical powers bloomed with tragic brilliance in the Shura field where flesh and blood were flying everywhere. The golden bodies of gods and Buddhas that used to protect the common people are now only left with cold stone fragments flying around; the faces of the brothers who once stood side by side in Buddhist scriptures have been distorted by time and ambition to the point of being unrecognizable.
This road is a journey to the West again, and it is also a road to break the cage carefully woven by lies and betrayal. When the golden hoop clanks in the blood and fire, the people of destiny will finally face the ultimate question of fate: Should they crush the sky and rekindle the forgotten holy flame that equals the sky? Or will he fall into Infinity and become another cursed totem in this dark myth?
