The sun over the Jade Palace was a fat, happy yolk, but Po couldn’t taste it. He sat on the steps, cradling a bowl of noodles he hadn’t touched. The memory of the peacock’s feather, that searing brand of fire and metal, had cracked something inside him. Not his shell—his memory .
Po didn’t run. He walked straight toward the cannon. Shen laughed. “Finally accepting your death, panda?”
Outside, Shen had cornered the Five. He had his ultimate weapon: a giant cannon loaded with a hundred pounds of gunpowder and metal shrapnel. “The age of kung fu is over!” he shrieked, lighting the fuse.
“Master Shifu,” Po said, finding the old red panda meditating on a peach tree branch. “I keep seeing… a face. A lady panda. And a lot of… red.”
The sun over the Jade Palace was a fat, happy yolk, but Po couldn’t taste it. He sat on the steps, cradling a bowl of noodles he hadn’t touched. The memory of the peacock’s feather, that searing brand of fire and metal, had cracked something inside him. Not his shell—his memory .
Po didn’t run. He walked straight toward the cannon. Shen laughed. “Finally accepting your death, panda?”
Outside, Shen had cornered the Five. He had his ultimate weapon: a giant cannon loaded with a hundred pounds of gunpowder and metal shrapnel. “The age of kung fu is over!” he shrieked, lighting the fuse.
“Master Shifu,” Po said, finding the old red panda meditating on a peach tree branch. “I keep seeing… a face. A lady panda. And a lot of… red.”
