MK couldn’t remember what day it was, they all felt the same to him, day after day, night after night, year after year. At times he missed when he was a young man, when he could go on silly little adventures with his friends who he missed. He missed them a lot. He could still vaguely remember the days when he played that stupid arcade game with Mei, what was it again? Monkey Mech, he doubted it existed anymore—just an ancient relic of the past that was hardly worth much nowadays. People didn’t have uses for arcade machines anymore, all this new technology kept coming around and evolving and it was like everything MK remembered as a kid just faded away—and it hurt. He really shouldn’t be getting nostalgic, especially like this, it was… what? About five hundred years ago now? For a guy that looked no older than twenty-eight he really shouldn’t act so insufferable about all the ‘new technology’. Sometimes he felt like an old man whose grandson was trying to explain how to work a TV.

Sometimes he wished he was an old man, maybe then he’d be able to see his friends and family again in death.

In the past, he’d find himself crying over these thoughts. Now? He just felt so numb. No one even knew his name anymore—it had been so long the title of “Monkie Kid, hero of the city!” Faded out into mere legends that were hardly remembered anymore. Though, a lot of the demons and villains that once were, are now at peace with people. No one had to be saved, and no one needed a savior. The old hero couldn't deny that he missed the attention he used to get. After all, he was one of the most well-recognized heroes of his time. Now he was just a guy no longer known for anything anymore. For a time he lived his life alone, hardly leaving Flower Fruit Mountain, a home that used to belong to his mentor, now his own. He didn’t go back to the city very often, even when he did it was only to get necessary items that he couldn’t replace through natural means. Which is what he was exactly doing now, going through a market to browse items.