Chapter Text
Jack Sun remembered going to sleep in his dorm late last night. Tardy to rise and tardy to bed was his reward after a successful round of midterms. He felt himself, half asleep, turning in his bed feeling the sheets follow just as lazily after him. It felt cozy; perfect for late fall.
He let out a sigh, stretching his legs out, wondering what about mornings made the bed twice as comfy and safe.
When he finally deigned to open his eyes, Jack felt the dreamy haze leave him for a state of confusion. This wasn’t his dorm room, this was- well it looked like the guest room he’d stay in when visiting his grandparents in China.
Jack sat up to scan his surroundings, the room was big, but simple. Just a bed in the middle of the room, nightstands on each side, a closet, a window shielded by curtains and a desk. For such a simple space, a wave of nostalgia hit, he hadn’t been able to visit his grandparents since high school after all.
But, nostalgia aside, there was also a pit in his stomach. Was he lucid dreaming or something?
Carefully slinking from the covers to investigate the door to the rest of the house and turning the knob ever so slightly, afraid to be heard.
The door opened just a pinch, enough for Jack to see a bit of the hallway. It was long, had wood floors, long red rug, ostentatious decorations of weaponry and paintings and vases and all sorts of other stuff.
It screamed wealth, something in which his grandparents were modest about. Modest enough to never decorate their house in such a way. Where was he?
A stealth mission began, quietly walking down hallways, looking in open doors, it was so quiet Jack could hear his heartbeat. While the bedroom felt like a place he had been in before, the rest of the house wasn’t; although it had an air of familiarity. Afterall, it was an old Chinese style mansion, Jack had been in his fair share of these.
No, that wasn’t it exactly.
Everything felt a lot more… animated?
As Jack made his way into the living room, it clicked, he’d seen it in an old tv show. One from his childhood. In fact, one he’d rewatched recently when a wave of nostalgia hit him. It was called Xiaolin Show-
“Jack!”
He screamed and fell over, of course he did it was a loud noise out of nowhere. Jack spun around to see something truly horrifically shocking.
“What the fudge?” Fuck, fuck is what he meant to say. “Fudge” now he was preoccupied with the fact he couldn’t say fuck.
“Jack!” It called again, more accurately, she called to him.
The purple wispy sprite of a head decorated with a white mask that stuck out a red crooked nose, her mouth full of fangs turned into a frown. The spirit’s name was Wuya, she was a recurring villain from the show.
The show called Xiaolin Showdown.
What was this?
The ghost woman moved into his space, he felt two chills- one down his spine and the other coming in waves from the lady herself.
“Oh, did I interrupt the princesses' beauty sleep?” Wuya rasped, her voice echoey and rough. “It’s time to get to work, you fool.”
She was right in Jack’s face about it, looking deep into the yellow swirls of her eyes, like staring into madness incarnate.
He did what any sane person would do.
He started screaming and running.
Jack ran through room after room, bumping into desks and knocking down lamps and pictures off walls. It was decorated so abundantly; just like a Saturday Morning cartoon showing off how the two percent lived. But it was still twisted. All of it, the kitchen, the bathroom, the yard, all set pieces in a cartoon show.
“I can’t believe it.” Jack exclaimed as he wandered aimlessly. “I haven’t even watched enough isekais to know the protocol!”
Or was this more of a transmigration? Jack didn’t read a lot of those either to know the difference.
Okay, maybe don’t panic, he could’ve been dreaming. The second he turned, his face met a door, his face stinging slightly.
“Not a dream.” Jack muffled.
He felt the temperature in the room go down, Jack saw Wuya drifting behind him; he peeked an eye at her unimpressed look. She glided through the door, oh right, she wasn’t solid.
There was a click and the door swung inwards, causing Jack to fall face first. Groaning at the pain, he righted himself. The pain didn’t linger here, it was there and then gone in an instant to his surprise.
Jack looked up, he couldn’t believe his eyes. It was the lab from the show in all its over-the-top animated glory.
Big wide LED lights hang overhead, casting these dramatic ass shadows on the workshop below. There’s operation tables, dollys filled with half-built machines, Jackbots at charging stations, rows of tool chests, dividers, a fully functional and ridiculously big computer that was like 12 feet tall with a tiny keyboard. It was all 2000s electronic geek heaven mixed with the ubercharge of a limitless cartoon.
So probably not an elaborate dream. Or maybe it was one of those dark cartoon theories where he was actually in a coma currently and this was his dying wish.
You know when he read those isekai and transmigration webnovels as “jokes'', not a lot of them crossed into this cartoony territory, then again he only dipped into historical fantasy. Maybe Xiaolin Showdown wasn’t that far off when Jack thought about it, didn’t it count as an urban fantasy in a way?
He made his way slowly down the stairs, the metal clang echoed in the surprisingly vast garage space, yet more evidence that the original goods came from wealth galore.
That’s right, not only that, but he transferred into the antagonists body, or at least one of them, and it was the lamest out of the bunch. Jack Spicer was the show’s punching bag, nothing he ever did was right and no one really liked him. By the end of the series all of his appearances amounted to a one off joke before the actual plot of the show began.
How could this have happened to him, what luck to transfer to the body of not only a loser, but a clown. Jack Sun would’ve literally preferred anything else.
Wuya eyed him impatiently, “You’re unusually quiet.”
“Am I? Or is it?” Or- huh.” Jack tried to get out of his trance.
“Did your latest defeat destroy your last remaining brain cells, you little buffoon?” Wuya snidely remarked, swooping down to be eye to eye with him. The way her body moved was like smoke or smooth waves.
Ah, but this was an opportunity, with Wuya here, Jack had a sort of tutorial fairy to spout exposition of events that he should already know about.
“Right, my latest defeat being?”
She got right up in his face, “The Crystal Glasses! Thanks to you we can’t look into the future and lost our only leg up against those monks!”
That’s right, at that mention, it was like his brain was booting up all the necessary information about the plot and setting.
Thank god for built in plot dialogue to keep the audience up to speed.
He remembered the Monster of the Week plot, the chase for the Shen Gong Wu. About a hundred or so weapons scattered across the globe that must not fall into the hands of evil, yadda, yadda.
“Well, what Shen Gong Wu do we have left?” If Jack remembered correctly, the Crystal Glasses episode was still early season 2, which meant there was enough to keep track of without getting lost at least.
As an answer, Wuya drifted over to an out of place painting on the wall, it was this gaudily colored painting of a still life with an expensive frame. Very out of place, in fact. Once again, the ghost phased through the wall and the painting opened on one side like a door and with it revealed a safe. Its large wheel spun and popped open, spilling twelve items.
As Jack picked them up, Wuya helpfully named them all out.
“The Mantis Flip Coin, the Jetbootsu, Monkey Staff, Changing Chopsticks, Helmet of Jong, Ring of Nine Dragons, Falcon’s Eye, Serpent’s Tail, Star Hanabi, Lotus Twister and the Sun Chi Lantern.”
Leftover knowledge from Jack Spicer's body filled in on what they all do. If it was around season 2 then Wuya must have gotten her human body back at some point and taken over the world. Thankfully, the monks defeated her- as big bads are not allowed to win in these shows- and she got reverted to her ghost form. Freed again by the status quo.
Wuya’s ramblings about how the monks had two more Shen Gong Wu than they did and how they needed to stop playing games and start strategizing faded away as Jack became less interested.
Wuya got in his personal space again, “Are you even paying attention?”
“Of course.” Thank you helpful npc tutorial fairy, Jack Sun will use your services many times from now on.
The ghost simply sneered at him, which was surprisingly easy given the fact she had a spooky mask on. As fun as poking holes in the meta was, there was a pit in Jack’s stomach. Something he wanted to test out real quick.
“Our goal is to get all the Shen Gong Wu together, right? What’ll we do when we have that?” Jack asked.
Wuya seemed taken aback by that, as if Jack asked a stupid question. She said, “Why, we’re going to take over the world of course!”
“But how?” Jack continued. “How can we conquer the world with a coin that makes you flip real good?”
The witch didn’t seem amused, “Are you trying to be smart with me boy?”
“I mean, where do these things even come from?” Jack asked, trying to find the right phrasing to trigger something.
“They’re weapons of destruction, that’s all you should need to complete our goal.” Wuya was clearly getting testy.
This conversation was going in circles.
“Why specifically-”
“Why nothing!” She spat. “You need to stop stalling and make yourself useful for a change, before I dump you and get someone who can!”
It was a somber conclusion. The repeated lines, the lack of any real personality, the anger of pointing out flaws in the grand design. the realization hit that he was the only real person amongst a cast of npc cartoon characters.
Maybe it wasn’t just Jack Spicer, maybe everyone in this show was an idiot. Programmed and dumbed down to simply entertain children.
What kind of life this was about to be, he might’ve preferred to be transmigrated to a steamy historical bl. Not that he read those often.
“Idiot,” Wuya spoke again to lay yet another insult to Jack.
Speaking of idiots, Jack should check up on the protagonists of the story.
“If you’re just going to stand around with a blank expression on your face, I might as well go back to the box.” Wuya called.
“Okay, I’ll be back.” Jack looked over his wu pile and grabbed the Falcon’s Eye and Serpent’s Tail, barely paying attention to Wuya. Hopefully her AI wouldn’t just repeat dialogue to him like this or else she’d get old quick. He was already getting kinda sick of it, to be honest.
“And where are you going?” She demanded, snaking her way ahead of him. Always trying to invade his vision it seemed.
“I’m gonna check in on the monks.” Jack said it like it was obvious. “Know thy enemy or whatever. And no need to follow me, I can’t risk you blowing my cover.” more like he doesn’t want to hear stock tutorial dialogue for the time being, but whatever.
“Hmph, if anyone is going to blow one's cover, you can do that fine on your own.” She retorted.
Jack just ignored her.
“Serpent’s Tail” He commanded. Seeing the Shen Gong Wu through a screen versus real life was quite the difference as Jack found himself being whisked away through the floor of the earth to the Xiaolin temple.
It was like riding a motorcycle, his arms ached from just trying to keep his grip on the weirdly wiggly and scaly tail. A mystical breeze was the only thing keeping him cool, otherwise nervous sweat would abound.
The overwhelming sensation made it hard to concentrate on his destination. Once he thought he was close enough, a flick of the wrist sent him flying into the air at breakneck speeds. An overwhelming light blinded him for but a moment before he saw the vast expanse of the animated Chinese countryside.
Not that he spent much time outside, however animated or not, nature was pretty breathtaking.
The temple was visible, his so called adversaries were outside, enjoying a bit of leisure time it seemed. Though from here they were indistinguishable.
Jack could only enjoy it for a moment before eyeing the temple. The tail seemed to have read his mind because it dived right to it.
He clenched his whole body for an impact that would never come, trying to guide it to the outer wall, just beyond the view of the monks. Stopping had the effect of making his stomach drop and a gush of wind drive by. There was a moment as he dived that the protagonists must have noticed Jack, but as he floated perfectly still, there didn’t seem to be any cause for alarm.
Perfect, the same AI stupidity that affected Wuya, also was on the main characters, plot convenience to the rescue.
After a soft landing in the bushes, Jack set the Serpent’s Tail aside in exchange for the Falcon’s Eye, calling its name softly so as to not alert anyone nearby.
Jack knew how this sounded, but they looked so… cartoony…
It helped that the four main characters were having quite a loud conversation, or else his hiding spot would have left him hearing mumbles.
“I’m not taking any advice from Mr. Reckless over there.” Kimiko Tohomiko, the dragon of fire and the cast's only female lead, the early 2000s was truly a dated time. At least she had better characterization than most girls in bls. Her pigtails made her look a lot less threatening than she was.
“Mr. Reckless?” Raimundo Pedrosa, the dragon of wind who’d become even more popular by the end of the series. The messy hair, the crooked smile, he was a heartthrob if you were into that sort of thing. “Ha, that’s a good one, Mrs. Reckless. Have anything to say to Clay’s boots this morning?”
“It was an accident!” She retorted. “And anyway, if those boots weren’t left in the middle of the room, nothing would’ve happened to them.”
“Hard to find room with all your stuff, little missy.” Clay Bailey, the dragon of Earth finally spoke up. The all American Cowboy, hat, boots and all. Jack could appreciate the strong silent type, that is when the show remembered he was even there. “Not to mention I didn’t get a darn simple apology.”
“Ugh, I already told you not to call me that.” Kimiko’s ears must have censored the last part of Clay’s sentence.
“Please, my friends!”
By this point, Omi had spoken up. The dragon of water, the show's mascot, the divisive little golden boy with a design that aged like milk into cheddar cheese in our modern times. He came up to their knees, arms up over his oversized sleeves in an attempt at a time out gesture, only managing a lowercase ‘t’.
“This fighting must stop.” Omi begged. “We should be above this petty bickering by now for we have finally grown as a team of chosen ones together.” Oh, here comes that exposition fairy again, possessing Omi this time.
The little monk continued, “In any case, Clay, it should not matter if Kimiko apologizes or not. What’s done is done.”
“Yeah.” Kimiko piped up.
“Just like Raimundo’s apology of betrayal for working with Wuya to take over the world does not matter. What matters is that he fixed his mistake.” That made Raimundo choke on his spit.
That’s right, the character of Raimundo went through an important and spicy development as he temporarily switched to the Heylin side. He gave Wuya his body back, and helped start the end of the world. But, just like a hero, he also saved the world and was easily forgiven. Mostly.
After he recovered, he went from sitting on the steps to rolling over onto his feet; no longer in the argument as a passive bystander.
“Woah, woah, that’s not a comparable thing at all.” Raimundo said.
“Sure.” Kimiko said. “What you did was worse.”
Jack wondered if this dialogue happened off screen in the original show too. He wondered if he wasn’t around to witness them if they’d even move or simply be on standby, motionless and t-posing.
“At least I’m trying.” Raimundo argued. “What’s Omi got other than making obnoxious remarks to make himself feel better?”
That silence that followed was like something in a drama, the point where the background music would stop so you could truly understand the depth of a comment. Kimiko and Clay both turned to give Raimundo shocked expressions, meanwhile the golden monk just looked sad- showing his young age.
A silent exchange went on between both Omi and Raimundo, he instantly felt bad about what he said.
Amazing, despite their AI dumbing them down, they could still pull off an efficient emotional scene.
“Hey, I’m sorry, I-” Raimundo stopped to sigh roughly.
Jack tilted his head, this acting left him fully immersed. It also left him fully distracted. He didn’t hear Dojo start to enter from stage left- then again, neither did the monks.
“Hey gang, have any of you seen my allergy pills, this pollen is really- ah- AH- ACHOO” Dojo sneezed out flaming mucus pointed right at Jack’s hidden spot in the bushes; instantly becoming slathered in the gross concoction.
Oh that’s right, he forgot, any moment of drama needed a comedic joke at the evil boy genius’ expense.
Jack rolled out of the bush, literally, to douse the flames, surprisingly it didn’t burn him.
“Jack Spicer!?” Shouted the monks. Jack looked up at them, all their angst and anger directed at him instead.
“Uh…” Jack panicked.
“You little creep, have you been spying on us?” Kimiko seemed the most haughty about it. Made sense, the original goods kidnapped her in one episode.
That reminder made Jack’s eyes widen in fear, especially when he saw Kimiko pull out the Eye of Dashi from her robes.
“Serpent’s Tail!” Jack cried, and shrank below the earth like a ghost. Only vaguely hearing Kimiko yell after him.
His heart sped, his palms sweaty and clammy, he was starting to doubt that life as a villain was going to be worth it.