You opened this can of worms, lie in the contents.

-The particular shot was Impmon walking in greyed out cityscape with the Hypnos building behind him, then Beelzemon Blast Mode fading in and the buildings dye red. This down here

-The bench Impon's sitting on is the same one that the couple he scared were sitting on, from episode 8

-The bread Impmon's eating is one from Takato's family bakery, also from episode 8

-The shadows on the Hypnos building is Jeri and Beelzemon, posed as the scene of him reaching into ADR-09 Gatekeeper, from episode 48

-The moon and the lens flare effect is shaped like ADR-09 Gatekeeper

-The Hypnos building is shaded after a particular nighttime shot, and with the shadows of Jeri and Beelzemon is a reference to when the D-Reaper overtook the building

-The bird flying in front of Beelzemon's shadow is a crow/raven (purposely ambiguous) which can be symbolised as messengers of gods, mischief, omens, death, transformation, and rebirth. The way the bird is flying is meant to represent Beelzemon's Blast Mode wings

Frame names:

GIF name itself:

And  the overlay frame of the fade out at the end

"-Being trapped under Five-Finger Mountain-"

He swore, he screamed, he declared, he did everything without care for volume and respect once he found out about the imprisonment. Scoured that mountain for decades, never finding a trace of his friend anywhere. Ran himself raw, searching and pleading for anything or anyone to grant him mercy and let him find his lost companion.

They never did like him anyway.

 "-Going on the journey with Golden Cicada and his disciples-"

His blood boiled at that, the journey being the sole reason Wukong was…different. He was still impulsive and hearty, going to Heaven for bi-yearly fights, unafraid to fight anything, chaotic as ever. 

But in the fight at the mountains, after stealing Monkie Kid's powers, he knew Wukong was holding back. He heard all the tales (however scrambled they became over the centuries), and had seen himself the power he held. He could've leveled the area and be done with the dispute in mere minutes. They fought, that's true, but the only reason he was beat was because of the kid.

Wukong didn't even have the dignity to strike him down himself, relying on a trainee who'd needed his powers locked up.

It was downright laughable, nay, pathetic at how Wukong was holding back because of one journey.

"-Before he struck you dead."

Oh. 

Ah, the one experience he had with death. The one where even after blotting out and ripping his name from the book had him checking over his shoulder and hiding in the shadows for a century in f- caution. It was that long before he realized Wukong did the same thing and no one went after him again (the others don't count, that was Heaven trying to remove his immortality).

Every time he saw his scar, he couldn't help but flinch. It still seemed fresh, still felt raw. His red facial marking didn't help either. (Keeping the glamor was second nature to him after all these centuries. He likes causing nightmares, not having them.)

Wukong didn't hold back then.

He took a deep breath, frosty air chilling his lungs as he turned to the young girl holding the spirit whispering promises laced with shards of ice and flakes of snow.

"Deal." He sneered.

(Macaque didn't want to think about the freezing light crawling down his throat. Too familiar. Too frightening.)

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Having a body mate was weird, but he learned to tune it out for the most part. Acquiring her ice abilities gave him an edge no one saw, and having her on energy sensory lookout helped with telling who's who and keeping tabs on the shady folk. Added a bonus in battle since she could warn him of any ambushers.

Though there were a couple...nitpicks he had.

Macaque had noticed with each new shadow clone, they turned just the teeniest shade bluer, thankfully not visibly noticeable to other folk yet.

Oftentimes when he summoned his staff, the spikes were coated in thin layers of ice. He rather let the blood flow from his enemies, thank you (though he rarely did more than a passing glance).

Even his shadow smoke form was tinged blue, frost trailing up the wrapping adorning it.

No matter, Macaque could handle this, he was flexible in his strategies (certainly helped with stealing Sun Wukong's power from the kid.) He would rather do without the personal physical changes.

Despite how many layers he covered himself with, his fur and skin stayed cool to the touch. Was a great help in traveling to the warmer sections of the area. With the drawback of visiting anything below 15 °C intensifying the chill. 

His face marking, the brilliant red he associated with power, ferocity, hurt, had blue creeping along his eyes. It looked to be icing out in crystalline patterns if he got close enough to reflections.

And his scar, the reminder of why he didn't just remove the spirit he was housing, stayed iced over even in his current setup in the Flaming Mountains.

Ah well, a quick glamor could fix those up. Right now he needed to strategize a way to get Wukong off Flower Fruit Mountain, separating him from the kid and the menagerie. 

(Macaque rose from sleep littered with some cuts and bruising. Didn't notice his camp was a few miles closer to Flower Fruit Mountain. Couldn't notice the blue fading back into gold sclera.)

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"What the hell was that?"

Macaque snarled at his reflection, the outline of White Bone Spirit staring back at him with nonchalance.

"I helped you win the battle and retreat, is that not what you wanted?"

It was going so well, Wukong managed to be separated with a few shadow clones and simple visual and vocal glamours. The recent attack (more like stolen power-high frenzy. Paint crudely helped hide the Demon Bull family's emblem) from the Gold and Silver Demon Brothers managed to split the group up. It was a simple send off of the right fakes to the right area after they split.

Once Wukong was below and far enough, Macaque made his entrance discreetly, ambushing him just as the other caught wind of something off. 

And it was going great for a while, without his staff Wukong was forced to fight harder. Wasn't close to the levels of Wukong back in the day, but more than the mountain battle. And the sheer thrill of it, seeing his "bud" let loose more, feeling the higher thrum of energy, oh gloriously maddening!

At least until a quick quip about the fake Wukong acting his part of the plan slipped out. Macaque found himself with too warm a liquid dripping out of his nose and mouth, from a punch and kick respectively.

The clarity at which he saw the unfiltered rage made the haze feel less like fog and more like a spotlight.

It was touch and go for a bit after that, but after a harsh, nearly numbing kick had Macaque gasping for breath, he asked for a boost as he wide eyed the threatening advance.

Blinding blues and white crept over his vision's edge, making Wukong's painfully shocked and horrified face the last thing he saw. Macaque regretted calling his power forth.

"I wanted a power boost, not a power surge blackout!"

"You received the power, but you were already on the verge of blacking out. I'm sorry it made you do so-"

"Excuses, excuses, that won't change the fact of what happened." Macaque turned away, only his eyes giving away his surprise, coming face to face with the cyan glow of White Bone Spirit.

"...Since when could you do that?" 

"When I'm not active."

"'When I'm not-' you mean to tell me you can pop out willy nilly? You didn't tell me this before?" Exasperation dropped in his tone, squeezing his eyes shut in annoyance.

"It never came up, this situation is different from humans. With your power, I couldn't-"

"I don't care, you're out." Held up his hands, moving forward, wanting to be done and gone from her.

"I'm sorry-" She made no effort move out of his way, so he walked through. 

"I don't want an apology, I want you out, gone, see ya! Deal's off, get your ice and leave-!"

"-But the body isn't yours now." 

Realization dawned on him once he passed through. Macaque froze.

As in the body stopped responding to any movement he willed.

"Oh, what's wrong? Can't move what was yours?" Cyan and white passed around behind him, swirling in the air as she skimmed her chilled fingers up his neck.

"Well then, I suppose there isn't anything special about you." She cupped his face, drawing in close, her eyes filling his entire vision. In the cold white, he could see his own gold turn deep, icy blue.

"You're just a macaque with nothing left." With that she drew back into the body.

Hundreds of eyes gleamed from the shadows, some stretching out on shapes familiar- himself- but wrong. He willed his body to move forward, to turn, to fall, do anything to get him away from the twisted glowing outlines as they approached.

He didn't even so much as jolt when the screaming skeletal face flooded his internal vision, bringing an icy air with her. Forcing to stare at the eternally screaming maw, dark icy hands grabbed hold and pulled down, with him along. 

No sound left him, not even a gasp.

(The bleakness made him want to flee.)

(The chill made him want to scream.)

(The nothing made him want to cry.)

(Macaque did.)

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Wukong slammed into the volcano's side, smoke and ash obscuring his vision. Blue cut through the thick black, having him reach back into the lava. Red and black shot to the unwelcome color, but turned to white powder before reaching the target.

"Aw, what's wrong Great Sage?"

Okay, this was bad, this was wa-a-ay bad, but distance was key, if he could get distance he could vanish and regroup with MK-

When did the molten rock turn to ice?

Wukong feverishly tugged at his right side, the ice crawling up his limbs, spreading out over stone and lava alike.

He made the mistake of turning around.

 A blue eye with a pinprick snowflake iris nearly touched his own golden eye. Steam rose out past their fangs, doing nothing to help the chill rolling off.