Simply looking at Monkey's shadow, as she steps from the mirror, you wouldn't necessarily think she's dark. She is, in fact, dressed in whites and creams from head to toe, her hair twisted and braided up, her face covered by a serene white porcelain mask.

She steps out, graceful and delicate, and draws the sword on her hip without a word.

"Oh no," Monkey whispers, and barely manages to draw and raise her own sword before the Eastern Star darts forward and engages her.

"Your emotions weaken you," the Eastern Star says, so calm she's almost emotionless, from behind her mask. "They are a distraction."

"No," Monkey growls, trying to hold her own against the shadow.

It's not going well.