Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

60 A.E.

Sixty Years After Imperial Takeover.

The remains of the battlefield smelled of brimstone and gore. Black smoke filled the sky, the natural ashes of flame swirling around the unnatural darkness of oni power. The inner courtyard had been entirely leveled, the damage extending to closer portions of the castle and even the mountainous walls around them. Those mountains plunged the castle into the valley, defending it from the heavens with menacing teeth of rock, too large to comprehend. Their scale was even more intimidating from one’s knees.

He was too distracted by the thick, red puddle that soaked through fabric to appreciate the valley’s might. The blood had gone through his torn trousers, staining his skin beneath. He’d already had enough blood making his skin itch before. Cuts along his body slowly oozed further, the fingers of his right hand bent the wrong way, skin cracked, white showing. His heart still pounded with the adrenaline coursing through his veins, but it was useless, now. He could barely feel his limbs, let alone stand on them—and if he could, what then? He wouldn’t care to. There would be no point, no purpose.

Because he was the last one left alive on that wrecked battlefield. His companions were all dead, buried under the rubble of destruction. The soldiers he’d grown up alongside, trained alongside, his baby sister. His team, his family.

He was alive. But there was no hope left. They had been defeated and death would be coming for him, too, in mere moments.

Gravel crunched under the heavy step of boots. A billowing cloak, little more than stained, even after the battle, flowed in the breeze of the valley. A sword gleamed in the light of crackling fires. A second, a third, and a forth blade followed, all of their hilts clutched in skin blacker than night. It was as if a void walked rather than a person, the features of the face and the suit of skeletal armor the only thing preventing the being from looking like a walking shadow.

A scoff emanated from the form of shifting darkness, loud in the otherwise silent courtyard.

Kai’s head rung. His hand still clutched his sword, the heavy weapon made entirely of tempered gold. He had kept ahold of it, even when he’d been briefly unconscious. A warrior’s instinct. But at the approach of death, the hilt of the sword slipped from Kai’s fingers. The thud it made sounded like that of any other sword, not befitting the legendary weapon it was.

He didn’t look up. Couldn’t find the will to. Why should he look his final moments in the face when his companions had been wiped away so instantly? He deserved to die shamefully. At the same time, he didn’t care enough to remember honor. Why should honor matter now? Why had it ever mattered? Honor had not given him the power to save the people he loved.

“Children. Wu sent children to defeat me in my own home.”

Metal hissed as the shadow returned the four massive katana back into their sheaths, each one snapping back in with finality. Kai flinched at the sound. Their greatest enemy, putting away his weapons right in front of Kai. It was no wonder—after all, Kai’s sword was in the dirt. What threat was he? He could not even be ashamed of unarming himself. He just wanted it to be over. A life of nothing but struggling and training and fighting, all coming to this—this was where it was supposed to end, for better or worse. Kai was not coming out of this alive.

“Pathetic. Naïve.” The armored boots stopped right in front of Kai. Kai’s entire being quivered, the weight of such an evil presence bearing down like a mountain on his shoulders. “Blinded by the illusion of righteousness. The world doesn’t bend to the will of the so-called virtuous, boy. It bows to power, to strength. Wu knows this. He collected children with such potential…and the fool threw it all away.”

Children with potential…they had been so much more than that. But it hadn’t been enough. It had never been enough—they’d fooled themselves into believing they were special. Special enough to topple an empire that had spanned fifty years, special enough to defeat the greatest evil the world had ever known. Naïve was kind. Moronic was more fitting.

No amount of training could have prepared him, prepared any of them, for the amount of overwhelming power this being had. The ultimate embodiment of the darkness in the world. The Tyrant of Torment. The Butcher of Ninjago. His Imperial Majesty, the Emperor Garmadon. The man-demon who had turned into a god, and not a benevolent one, taking over Ninjago with a bloody fist and who intended to continue his reign forever on.

Kai found himself empty of feeling when faced with the monster that had haunted his life since his birth. A moment ago, when he’d awoken to find his baby sister in an early grave, rage had coursed through his body, a rage familiar and dependable. A rage that had always been there, feeding the fire within. Now, the small flame was dashed. He couldn’t imagine caring for anything in the world again. Not while he knelt in that ruined courtyard, blood slipping down his face, horror turning his senses numb.

Just end it, he thought instead, his own desperation for release weak. Just make it all stop. I don’t want to fight anymore. All I’ve ever done is fight and this was supposed to be the end of it, so end it already.

Kai waited for it. A slash through his throat, the beating fists of malice, the corroding power to dissolve his skin, then his muscle, then his bone. But no blow came. The dark lord did not kill him. The armored boots remained in front of him, patient.

Kai looked up. What could the monster be waiting for? Did he simply want to see the pain in Kai’s eyes before he died? He would find none. Kai doubted he would feel much of anything, drifting as he was.

Those eyes on him made Kai want to melt into nothing. Blood red and glowing with strength, it was as if all the blood the being had ever spilled was reflecting back at Kai. Those eyes were not full of hate or rage. They were…empty. There was as much a void in the being’s gaze, uncaring for the deaths of Kai’s companions, uninterested in the brutal ends he had brought to shining lives. Kai was nothing to him. His family had been nothing to him. Insects. Barely worth his grand, horrible time.

Those unbothered eyes were also calculating. Studying Kai. Seizing him up. Like he was waiting for something. If he thought Kai was going to attempt to kill him, he would be sorely mistaken. Kai knew he didn’t stand a chance. He wasn’t going to give himself the honor of dying with a blade in hand. He didn’t care.

“Just do it,” Kai murmured.

Still, Emperor Garmadon did not move. He crossed his four massive arms over his chest instead. His armor glinted in the light of the purple fires in the vicinity.

“Speak louder, Master of Flame. Or would you shame your comrades in their deaths?”

Speak louder. Like a parent scolding their child. Like he wasn’t talking about Kai’s friends that he’d just brutally murdered. Kai’s baby sister. There was a spark of his old companion, his rage, deep inside.

“Just kill me,” Kai spat.

“No.”

“Wh—What?”

“Unlike my brother, I am no fool. With the other elemental masters dead, you are no threat to me. But the power you possess…it is singular. And you fought with skill. It is because of this that I have decided to gift you with my mercy.”

Kai’s world froze. The adrenaline was beginning to fade, pulsating, aching pain just behind a curtain of chemicals in his bloodstream. Doubt held his heart. Mercy? Mercy from the Emperor was unheard of. Ridiculous. The being did not ever grant mercy. Kai might be young, he might be naïve, but that idea was a fundamental in the world they lived in. Mercy did not exist in the Empire of the Darkest Night.

Whatever this gift was—it was the farthest thing from mercy that could be imagined.

“No,” Kai whispered. “No, no, no. Just fucking kill me, you coward!”

The man-demon looked amused. As if Kai were the punch-line of a joke. As if his pathetic panic in his useless state were the funniest thing he had seen all day.

“Oh, you shall die today, Master of Flame, but I will not kill you. You shall not be the heroic martyr that your companions were. You do not deserve a fate such as that, nor did they. No…I can see a greater purpose in you.”

Kai’s mouth felt bone dry. What do you mean? he didn’t ask. If this monster saw any sort of purpose in Kai, it could only be a threat to his sensei after the assassination’s failure. He would not become another tool in Emperor Garmadon’s reign of darkness and terror. And he would not be kept separate from his comrades, his sister, when they had given everything. He had to match their sacrifice.

He reached for all the strength left in him. It wasn’t enough to touch the inhuman beast before him, but it was enough to lift his sword one final time.

He was quick as lightening, pouring all he had into it, using both hands outstretched from him to thrust the blade inwards—

He cried out as the blade barely pierced a half inch below his sternum, but the momentum was halted. Two void hands grabbed both of Kai’s arms at the wrists, and a third hand was wrapped around his fingers on the hilt. There was no contest of strength between the oni lord and the shaking boy. But Garmadon let him suffer there, wincing as the blade tip shifted.

A black void hand reached forward and brushed Kai’s hair from his face, then grabbed him roughly by the jaw. Kai tried to growl and jerk away, but the four arms he was faced with held him completely immobile.

Fingers, cold as shards of ice, dug into his cheeks. It was like the heat was being leached out of him where the Emperor touched his skin.

“I have no intention of letting you find solace in oblivion, boy, though I respect the attempt. It seems there is will left in you after all. No matter—that will not last long. From now on, your mind and body belong to me. Your every move, every thought, every breath will be under my command.”

Kai couldn’t move, couldn’t react how he’d like to in the face of such a statement. So he did what he could. He spat on the Emperor’s hand.

The man-demon tsked. His grip on Kai’s arms, his fingers, and on his jaw tightened and tightened until Kai felt like his arms were going to be ripped through.

The grip around his ruined fingers suddenly broke right through the numbness and the adrenaline, squeezed against his golden hilt, and Kai screamed.

“Shush,” the Emperor commanded, briefly squeezing again, drawing a breathless wheeze from Kai. “Get used to that feeling quietly. Even I only enjoy screaming for so long before it gets annoying. And I thank you for this offering you’ve given me in return for my generosity.”

The Emperor let go of Kai’s arms at the same time as he kicked him in the gut. Kai flew back, the air leaving him as he hit the ground, all of his wounds abruptly beginning to burn in agony.

The Emperor had already turned away from him, caressing Kai’s legendary blade in his hands. With a briefly barked order, soldiers of the Emperor appeared in the courtyard and surrounded Kai.

Hands grabbed at him. He screamed and burst into flames, but the sparks were weak. The heat was quickly wrested away from him, his heaving chest pressed into the cracked stone, and tears wet the settling dust.

-

The dungeons were dark and damp and the air was thick with the stink of bodies. It wasn’t very unlike the surface of the fortress’ valley, which was trapped in perpetual darkness. Any barrier created by a force of such evil could only cast as much darkness as it did protection. Above, the air was fresh, at least. Below, Kai might as well be choking on his own stench. He didn’t know how long it had been, had no way to tell time—and his torturers were not the giving type. The guards were even less talkative. Kai could only tell by the fact that he was aware of his own smell that a very long while must have passed without him being allowed a shower. The cruelty was doubled with every session of pain. Kai would be left bloodied, bruised, covered in sweat, and left with nothing but a bucket and drain for a laughable show of dignity. Kai might as well be shitting on the stone with how much dignity he retained.

His clothes, his gi, had been stripped, all of his items taken. His hair had been sheered with blades meant for sheep, as short as the unprofessional work of the guards could be. He’d been left with nothing but his own skin and the wounds left over. He was not even graced with a loin cloth. He was only treated enough so that he would not bleed out or die of infection. Often, they’d let it fester until he was throwing up whatever meager food they’d provided him with. He was constantly nauseous, if not from the fever, if not from the blood loss, if not from the beatings to his skull, then from the constant crippling pain.

When he learned that he could bite through his tongue to stop his own screaming, he was given more water. That was their mercy. So like their master’s.

In quite a paradox, they were dissapointed when he learned to breathe through the pain of blades and needles and broken bones and bruised skin. But there was one torture that he could never breathe through, never get used to, never ignore, and they knew it.

A cloth would be pressed against his mouth and nose, his arms and legs strapped down with vengestone. The vengestone made the chill of the dungeon seep into his bones and raise goosebumps on his arms, but that was constant.

The ice water would come down. Kai would thrash and flail, his body reacting without his command as he choked and coughed, only to swallow more water. His body would desperately heave everything from his body in an attempt to clear his lungs, which only served to cut off more air. The burning of his lung was unlike the physical pain of other tortures, it wasn’t something he could tell himself he’d live through, it was an instinctual pain so intense it always brought him to sobbing tears. Those were the moments during which Kai wished the most that his torturers would make a terrible mistake and Kai could finally die.

Oh, and did Kai try. Tens of times, in every way he could imagine, some more successful than others. It never seemed to stick. Kai wasn’t sure if Garmadon’s men were just that observant or if the First Spinjitsu Master was punishing him for leaving his comrades in death behind. Perhaps he deserved it, if it was the latter. But that didn’t stop him from aching to be released from this hellish misery.

The Emperor had been right. Kai must have died that day, because this was not living. Kai was not a human being, not an intelligent person, something he soon embraced. If all there was to do was stare at the cracked, black walls and await the next torture, that was what he had to do. No one would speak to him, nor make a sympathetic move towards him. The only voices Kai heard were of his torturers, laughing with glee while his endless punishment was carried out. Garmadon knew well how to chose the men in his service, it seemed.

He let himself get lost in the meager hours he was isolated in his cell, the only illusion of safety in his desolate life. He let himself imagine being with his sister, being with his friends, taking the kind elderly hand that had once lifted him out of the mud he’d been dug into by other hands. Had that elderly man foreseen this? He had always seemed to be aware of all, with a foresight that Kai could only imagine was great. But if he had such wisdom, why had the ending come to this? Why lead Kai’s family to their deaths and him to this non-life? Perhaps he really had been using them all for their inherit abilities. Perhaps he’d never cared at all.

Time blurred. Minutes and hours felt the same. It was as if Kai had been stuck down in that dungeon for years, and his body reflected his assumption. Where once had been a well-oiled, trained machine that he had sharpened to perfection for years of training, there was skin and bone. Light brown skin had turned ashen, strained over his ribs, his hips, his joints. He was sure his face was as lively as a skeleton, not that he had access to any mirrors in the crypt. Badly-healed scars littered his body. His hair had grown out from when it had been shaven down, now tickling his ears once more. At some point, some other tortured soul had given him the pity of tossing in a potato-sack-like shirt, which was moth-eaten and stained.

By that point, Kai had forgotten any words that the Emperor had said to him so long ago. He’d forgotten a lot, in fact. He’d forgotten exactly how Garmadon had killed his friends. He’d forgotten what it felt like to yearn for life.

When the door to his cell creaked open, he could only suspect that it was time for another session.

He didn’t bother planning an ambush as the bars creaked open in the torchlight. He also did not bother trying to hold onto the door to prevent the inevitable, or curl up in the corner as if they wouldn’t notice him. This song and dance was unpreventable. Kai had grown weary of pretending otherwise a long while ago.

He had been left alone for quite a while this time, though. It had been long enough for him to feel almost rested, or as close as he got while in the depths of hell. When he looked up, he managed something like a glare on his face. Even that action he rarely had the will to put effort into.

“Ugh, it reeks down here,” a guard complained.

“Yeah, let’s not do anything to get posted in this shithole,” another agreed.

Hearing human voices coming from the guards is the first thing that threw Kai for a loop. During all of his time down there, he had never heard a guard speak. These weren’t dungeon guards.

They were dressed the same, but they were right about one thing—and the dungeon smell wasn’t on them.

“On your feet, prisoner. His Imperial Highness has called you to your duties.”

Kai’s brain processed everything but the direct order slowly. He struggled to clamber to his feet, having to use the wall to help him, his knees shaky beneath him. But he didn’t have to think too much about walking—the two guards swooped to his side and grabbed his arms, heaving him upright. The manacles that linked his wrists together jingled, the vengestone almost musical.

He hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the great Emperor since he’d been left to rot at his mercy. The idea of him now was almost as horrifying as the fate Kai had come to terms with.

“Wha—” Kai’s voice cracked over the word. His throat was bone dry.

What did they want with him? What other horrors did they have to show him? What more could he suffer through?

He slumped between the guards, letting them drag him where they would. Perhaps if his feet dragged enough, they’d decide he was too much of a burden, and throw him back into his dark cell. At least there, Kai knew exactly what to expect.

Against all odds, or all of Kai’s expectations at the very least, he was not dragged deeper into the dungeon. No, instead he was manhandled between the winding corridors, the other prisoners groaning, screaming echoing within the back stone, and finally brought to a stairway that went up. Up, into the castle, away from the dampness, the torturers, the rats. Away from the smell of shit and bile and the puddles of unknown substances, and the isolation that lasted centuries too long.

The dark castle of Shadowspire was far from inspiring and beautiful, but no one could say that it was not regal in all of it’s greatness. The castle and grounds were the largest of any monarch in Ninjago history, which was unsurprising considering who had it built for himself. It was the perfect representation of Emperor Garmadon’s rule since far before Kai was born.

Banners of violet and grey fluttered outside, among the sharp parapets that numbered far too many. Deadly spikes protected the outside of the walls, preventing fools from trying to sneak in or out. The inner-valley of Shadowspire was sprawling, with the lower grounds large enough to hold the training of the Empire’s best and brightest. The upper grounds was large enough to be equivalent to a small town of it’s own.

Most of Shadowspire was surrounded by the legendary tall peaked mountains, the Veils. All but the single pass between Shadowspire that lead directly into Ninjago City, which consisted of any traffic in or out of the valley. Of course, Kai only knew all of this because he had entered that way when they’d breached the valley for their assassination attempt. The outside of the castle on a day that it wasn’t being besieged was something still alien to Kai. The inside of the castle reflected the outside in most ways. The decorations along the large, royal halls were themed with the Empire’s purple and greys, weapons used as common placements along walls. There were beautiful tapestries as well, and windows, through which Kai saw his first hint of sunlight.

He tried to dig his heels in, to stop the guards at the bare slit in the wall.

Through it was a direct view through the Pass in the Veil towards Ninjago City. The sunshine, only blotted out from above by the dark curse that Garmadon had put over his home, had managed to sneak through at the day’s sunset.

Like a withered flower finally given a fresh breeze, Kai felt the flame deep inside him stir at the sunlight. Even his element, kept locked away for so long by the properties of vengestone, had missed it’s kin.

“Come on!” Kai was shoved forward. “No man as pungent as you can be presented to His Imperial Majesty. We can’t keep the Emperor waiting for long while your foul stench washes away.”

Kai stumbled along, dread rising along with his lack of understanding.

The dawning of realization didn’t come to him until he was shoved into a new room. Despite the dreary color theme, it was as if he was stepping into a room in heaven. It smelled like fresh fruit and the side of the sea. It was damp, but unlike the dungeon, the damp feeling was light and clean.

A bathing room. There was already a bath drawn, the water steaming lazily. A warm bath. Kai hadn’t felt true warmth since the vengestone cuffs had been secured to his wrists…

The crushing relief was a bit soiled by the three woman that awaited him in the room. They were not shy in stripping him of his potato bag and manhandling him into the heated tub. The manacles remained on his wrists, though the guards released the chain between them so that he had free movement. With the two of them remaining in the room to make sure he didn’t try anything, he was less than a threat. More like an annoyance.

The three woman certainly treated him that way. They scrubbed at his skin like he’d personally murdered their entire families. He had no idea sponges could hold so much hatred before then.

It wasn’t anything to the torture he had endured, fortunately, so he hardly suffered. Up until they began to scrub in places that he did not want touched, but there was no saying no to them when the guards stepped forward with their swords at their sides. Kai didn’t try to struggle. The message was quite clear, if all of the horrendous thing he’d endured below hadn’t been enough.

Then again, Kai’s body hadn’t belonged to himself since that day. What right did he have to fight against this?

He had only one wound on his chest still raw enough to be bandaged after being freed of the bath. It had begun to bleed at the women’s aggression. They acted as if he had made it so in order to personally spite them. His hair was combed and trimmed. He was aided in getting dressed.

As was common in the Empire of the Darkest Night, all servants of the Empire wore traditional Ninjagoan dress. Emperor Garmadon had always seemed to have an attachment to generations passed. Ninjago City and much of the North had progressed into more practical and adapted wear—Kai had grown up wearing cargo pants and skinny jeans outside of his gi. The villages outside of Ninjago City were a bit more behind, including his childhood village of Ignacia, and traditional dress hadn’t been rare there.

The clothes he was presented with were much more fine and expensive, far too expensive for anyone from Ignacia to be familiar with. He stood still after pulling on fresh undergarments—holy shit, he had underwear on, Kai would have killed for this alone—and the women wrapped a white under-robe around him, followed by an ornately embroidered hanfu. It was tied at his waist with black rope, the rope smooth and far too silky to be used as a weapon. His sleeves were tied close to his arms to keep the fabric out of the way.

They were the clothes of a servant, yes, but the golden designs spoke of a servant of status. Kai would have been purely confused at this—why would he be given status, when he had tried to assassinate the Emperor?—if not for the color of the robes.

Red. Deep, blood red.

Red and gold were the colors of the their rebellion’s monikers, at odds with the Empire’s purple and greys. And, more importantly, it was the color associated with the Master of Flame, a title and power passed from generation to generation, since the very land rose from the sea. The color that Kai had worn on the sleeve of his gi when he’d fought to slay the Emperor, to honor his own ancestors.

Kai may look as if he had status because of the hanfu’s beauty, but it’s color, a darker symbol than the bright red he wore before, would mark Kai as a traitor, a warning, to anyone who saw him. He would undoubtably stand out in the crowd of a palace full of cold colors and muted fabrics. Another gift that was no blessing. But Kai would take the stupid hanfu over the dungeon.

After all, he only needed to be free enough to end his own life. It wouldn’t take much—a moment alone, a small mistake on his captor’s parts. He would not be used to commit horrors like a rabid dog on a leash. But he would also not go back down below the castle. Perhaps it was always doomed to be a lose-lose situation, but Kai didn’t care as long as Garmadon was losing, too. And what value did he have for his life regardless? There was nothing to go back to. All he’d fought for was smoke and ash of a flame long put out. I’ll join you soon, Nya. I hope you’ve met mother and father where you are. Wait for me. Please, wait for me.

His manacles were re-chained behind him. He got a brief glimpse of himself in some reflective glass in the bathing room, but it was only enough for him to see that he looked reedy and totally unimpressive. Fine. What did he care? His mind was occupied with contemplating how attached to their katana the guards were.

He was lead through the castle once more. To the credit of the women that had cleaned him, he did feel like a brand new man. His eyes were no longer crusted over with grit, his mouth didn’t taste like mold, and dried blood did not make his joints itch. His hair had even been done, reminding of how he’d used to ritualistically take care of it during his training. Nya had always teased him. The raw feeling of his skin did remind him of just how weak he was when the cleanliness threatened to spark something rebellious in his heart.

The castle was…populated. Logically, Kai knew that many people made up Shadowspire, with the training grounds just below, and the amount of people that were needed to run a castle of this size. In addition to the large staff, Garmadon’s chosen lords may just be around. The propaganda spread across the Realm about the Empire was rampart, and these supposed “lords” were like celebrities whose lives were followed by the every day folk back in the city. That meant the upkeep of the castle had to remain both impressive and intimidating to keep any visitors and loyalists in line.

Still, it shocked Kai to see so many servants passing them by, going about their normal duties, with normal lives. Sure, Garmadon threw the occasional fit and unlucky servants had lost their lives in the past, but it seemed like these were…normal people. Some of the Emperor’s servants were evil and sadistic, like the torturers that Kai had heard the voices of for so many days, but perhaps there were others like Kai around, here against their will. Kai wouldn’t put it passed Garmadon.

He passed by the first open doorway to the outside. It was a view of the courtyard he’d been dragged from. From the quick glance he got of it, the whole thing seemed to have been expertly restored, pristine, as if it had never been damaged in the first place.

Kai absently wondered if any servants had died in the same battle that Kai’s companions had been slaughtered in.

He winced as the grips on his arms tightened. He hadn’t realized his steps had faltered.

The doors to the throne room were unmistakable. The sunshine was long gone, any natural breeze from the courtyard dashed in the main portion of the palace. The doors were three men tall, made of black metal, twisted designs holding little beauty. It took four guards to push the hefty doors open before them.

Inside was a throne room of nightmares. A cold sensation swept over him when the doors were split a mere crack. He took a step back instinctually, but his guards held him fast. He glanced at them, an unnatural fear beginning to curl around his chest and constrict his heart. Did none of them feel that? The oppressive force, the prey-like instinct begging Kai to run? Were they all so blind to the energies of the world?

Clearly they must have been because there was no hesitation in dragging Kai in.

It was as dark as a cave, the throne the only lit space in the cavernous room. Twin purple flames in large pits on either side of the throne cast the room in a ghastly light, throwing shadows from the pillars and the tapestries of the dark phoenix that hung.

The throne itself was on a raised platform and it was entirely made out of bones. It was no small amount of bones, no. The throne was large and imposing. A skull of a great beast sat at the precipice of it, two human skulls at it’s sides.

Before the throne, two royal guards stood. These were the first non-humans Kai had seen in Shadowspire.

To call them non-human, though, was not quite right. They had once been human, and now were reanimated skeletons of tall and imposing men, armored in extravagant plate mail and armed with spears even larger than them. They must have been the best of the best from the Bone Army. It was expected for Garmadon to only have beings that were literally bound to his will guarding his person. They could never betray him.

Kai felt a bout of unease, regardless. He’d only seen bonemen from a distance before, most of their army amassed in the South, fighting the Empire’s war.

And, of course, the Emperor himself sat on his throne of death, looking no less shadowed and monstrous as he had the last time Kai had seen him.

The door closed behind them, sealing them away. The guards dropped to their knees and bowed low, shoving Kai to the ground in the process. Hands behind his back as they were, Kai pitched forward and his face slammed into the ground. He gritted his teeth to not make a sound, but was successfully groveling.

“Unshackle him and leave us,” the Emperor said.

The guards didn’t need to be told twice. Kai’s arms were jerked around, but mercifully freed. The guards then slipped into the shadows, escaping into some sort of side exit that Kai couldn’t see.

Kai was left with his forehead pressed against the ground, the flickering purple flame the only sound. He slowly brought his hands down, fingers trembling with sensation as he touched the rug on the stone. The fire within him slowly stretched out, as if doubting that it was free as well, filling his limbs with weak bouts of warmth. With his ability returned to him, he could sense the purple flame nearby—and the flames felt sick. Kai had to pull back his awareness to keep from throwing up at the Emperor’s feet.

Kai was so weak a threat, Garmadon hadn’t hesitated to return one of the most powerful abilities in Ninjago to him. If only Kai wasn’t immune to his own fire. If-fucking-only.

“Rise, boy. Prove to me that you still burn if you’d like to live for another moment.”

Kai had the option to ignore him and just let Garmadon kill him off instantly. He would, Kai could tell. He could sense his murderous intent from where he stood.

But he had been without his flame for so long. It was like a limb that had been cut off all this time. Given the chance to feel it again without threat of repercussions, Kai rose his hand and lit a small blaze in his palm.

The flames licked up his fingers, a healthy orange and red. The heat gave Kai the feeling of home. It was smaller than he’d meant—his fire had suffered with his physical state. But it was there. Kai was transfixed by his own power for a moment, breathing in the smoke like an addict getting a hit.

“Good,” Garmadon rumbled.

The flame abruptly blew out. Kai flinched at the brief wave of power that blew back his skirts.

His hands shook as he blinked from his hypnosis. Forget dying here—a word from the Emperor and Kai would return to the dungeon. Kai didn’t want that. He couldn’t do that again.

“Did they cut out your tongue down there? I seem to recall ordering them to leave your face unmarred…Well?”

“No,” Kai croaked. “No, Your…Your Majesty.”

Kai bowed his head. Just get passed this encounter and find the sharpest weapon on the wall. It will all be over soon. You’ve no pride left, so it won’t be hard.

“Hm. Satisfactory. I do not need an ugly, scarred face who cannot speak fulfilling the duty I have assigned to you. I need someone young with some kind of skill. One would assume that I would have many such suitors with the training yard just below us, but alas, humans are all so weak. Even the best of them fail to meet my expectations so…spectacularly. And this is a bar that I will not lower for your species to struggle to reach. But you are not just any human. You…are an elemental master, and one who has been taught spinjitzu, no less.”

Garmadon stood from his throne. Kai squeezed his fists at his sides, trying to keep his nerves as those red eyes fell on him and pierced just as violently as they had the first time. But Kai still didn’t understand. Yes, the Emperor wanted him because his ancestry granted him talents that few had. But what did he want him for?

Kai was too terrified to speak out of turn. The smell of the throne room was beginning to smell too similar to the dungeon.

“A bit old to teach anew.” Garmadon walked down the dias, dark cape billowing behind him. Kai kept his eyes frozen forward. “But that will not be a problem, I trust. I know the foolish ideals that Wu would put into your head. And one of those is to protect, is it not?”

Kai couldn’t tell if that was a rhetorical question. It was, of course. The way of the ninja was the way of the protector, the defender, the heroes of all. Kai and his companions, young and niave, had once boasted about being the greatest ninja the Realm had ever seen, the protectors of all, following the toppling of the Dark Empire. And this is where it had gotten him.

“Did they teach you nothing down there?” Garmadon snarled, suddenly directly in front of Kai. “Answer me, boy.”

“Yes!” Kai stuttered. “He taught us—me to protect people. You–Your Majesty.”

The Emperor leaned back. He already towered over Kai, but the massive crown upon his head doubled the vertigo. It, too, was made of bones, but these had not been bleached. They were yellowed at the roots, massive teeth of some great beast, slain by presumably the man-demon before Kai. Sharpened steel sat between the teeth.

“Then it is by his teachings that you must fulfill your role in my palace. You will protect someone with all of your flesh and blood, with all of the power you wield, with the weight of your oaths past and your loyalty to me. Every moment of your pitiful life will be spent giving your unending service to keeping them safe—an innocent soul.”

There is no innocence in this razed land, Kai thought. You have poisoned it out of the people around you.

“You will not leave their side unless I command it. And should you fail to fulfill your duties to my intention, then you shall be sent back down to the dungeons to contemplate your short comings…and otherwise punished as I see fit. Should any harm come to them, then I can assure you, your life will never be forfeit. As long as I live, I will make sure that you also live, suffering the greatest pains and horrors that there can be in this Realm and beyond. Do you understand this charge?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Kai quickly said.

He was lying. He didn’t understand in the slightest. Protect someone? Kai felt rattled to his core. Who in the world would the dreaded, emotionless, monster, Emperor Garmadon seek to protect? Who would make him so desperate that he would employ the services of his own would-be assassin? A political ally? A military leader? But Garmadon had never shown such care for even valuable allies. In fact, he had been known to kill them off on a whim in the past. From what Kai knew in preparation for their palace assault, anyway.

Garmadon hummed, walking around Kai. Kai hated the feeling of those red eyes on him, seizing him up even now.

“You will work day and night to build your strength tenfold what it was before. My personal guard will see to it and I will ensure it is done right. You should be down on your knees thanking me even now. I am going to give you unimaginable power, boy. Second to only one.”

Kai took the suggestion with complete seriousness and dropped back down onto his knees. He folded himself forward, low, murmuring, “Thank you, Your Imperial Majesty, for your mercy and kindness.”

Kai wanted to fucking die. His words sounded hollow and fake to himself, but the Emperor seemed to accept them. And how could he do that? Knowing the blood of Kai’s friends, his family, was on his hands? Kai’s baby sister had been thirteen. She’d been thirteen, born with a power that had turned her into a soldier too fast. And this monster had killed her for it.

Perhaps if there was someone Garmadon cared about so much, he would feel the same pain at their demise as Kai did. No, Ninjago’s Butcher could not feel something as human as grief. But Kai might be able to make him feel something similar to it.

Kai didn’t even know who they were, yet.

“Get off your knees,” Garmadon snapped. “Do not grovel before me. If I see any further pathetic displays, I will take it as a weakness that the dungeons can see to. Groveling is for those irritating aristocrats that keep the peasants in line. You will be a warrior of my making.”

Kai had never stood up so fast. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Hmph. Ask me.”

Kai hesitated. Garmadon walked back into Kai’s vision, his four arms crossing in front of him. Kai felt very small. “A-Ask what?”

“Ask me the question that I can see burning in your eyes. I am giving you my permission.”

“…Who is it that you want me to protect?”

The Emperor did not smile, did not shift. With a borderline uninterested air, he answered.

Kai could do nothing but stare dumbly. He was shocked that Garmadon didn’t smite him out of his misery right then for giving him whatever fool expression was on his face.

Kai and his team had done extensive research on the Emperor and everything that went on within Shadowspire before their mission. They’d sacrificed more than Kai had ever wanted to just to learn all that they had, called in every favor their sensei had, even traded information for lives unknowingly. All to find the weakness of a being seemingly without weakness. But in all of that time, they had not heard a hint of what seemed to be the closest kept secret in all of Ninjago. Something that Kai was now hearing from the mouth of the man-demon himself.

The prince.

Emperor Garmadon had chosen an heir.

-

The next day, Kai waited in the room with his arms crossed tightly against his chest. Though every moment was anxiety-inducing, it felt too good to be true. He had firmly believed he would die an incredibly painful death below the castle and to not be facing that fate was difficult for him to grasp. He was not unhappy to be rid of that place, but he was unhappy that he’d escaped with his heart beating.

He glanced towards the two guards that had been stationed just inside of the room with him. This one was free of weapons on the walls, with only two barren benches and two plush chairs on the opposite side. Some sort of receiving room. The architecture was quite lovely, with arching ceilings, and the walls painted with a massive mural for visitors to view the Emperor’s grandness before meeting him. The mural was not one that inspired awe in Kai, however.

It was a depiction of how Emperor Garmadon had first come to power. He did not shy away from portraying himself as a dark entity, but the being he fought against was equally as dark, another oni. No one knew who his opponent had been all of those years ago, only that they were just as powerful, and likely just as evil. Their battle had allegedly razed every costal town to the ground along the West shore of Ninjago, magic unlike anyone had seen before dominating any mere humans. Garmadon had come out on top, of course, and had subsequently conquered the lands of man. The mural was bloodied and violent, the sharp reds quite the contrast to the muted tones of the palace interior.

Kai turned to study the final wall of the mural that wrapped the room. This one was Garmadon being crowned by his skeletal general, Samuki. He was the most infamous bone man, known for leading the slaughter of many before Ninjago’s previous Emperor had surrendered his lands. Kai knew he lived even now, charged with winning the war down South, as he had been since before Kai had been born.

The wooden doors at the entryway were silent as they swung open, but the shrill voice behind them was not.

His robes were of blue and violet silks, free of wrinkles or imperfections, and embroidered with swirling silver from top to bottom. While Kai may look like a person of note, these robes spoke of the most important person in the room. The left fold was pinned just below the right shoulder, the collar of the robes just as silver-laden. Unlike Kai’s tied down sleeves, his were allowed to flow at his sides. Weaved rope with tassels at the end hung from the front, pendants of obsidian decorating them.

The different version of a hanfu looked far too regal and expensive to be worn by what looked to be an seven-year-old boy.

Said boy had his blonde hair in a hideous bowl cut, red eyes flashing from behind it. They seemed…unimpressed as they studied Kai.

“So you’re my new evil henchman?” The boy said. He fearlessly stopped in front of Kai, within arm’s reach, and glared up at him. He was very short. “You look pretty weak.”

Something in Kai stirred, offended, but he easily ignored it. He moved his hands behind his back and bowed shallowly. “…Hello, Your…You’re the Prince?”

“Of course I am! I am Prince Lloyd, the future evil-est Emperor in the world!” The boy put his hands on his hips. “Are you sure my dad picked you?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure.” Unfortunately for us both.

“Your Highness,” Lloyd corrected.

Kai held in his scowl. “Your Highness.”

Any of Kai’s plans were effectively stunted at the appearance of the small boy. Kai had assumed that Garmadon had chosen a worthy human, or perhaps a skeleton, to serve as his heir as some sort of political play. Kai hadn’t even considered it would be someone young, much less someone who looked like he could genuinely be the Emperor’s son.

But looking into those eyes, Kai couldn’t doubt it. He had his father’s eyes. They even held a mischievousness that would no doubt turn to outright malice as he grew older.

“Well…at least you’re not an old lady again,” Lloyd frowned. “They are so annoying.”

“…How old are you, Your Highness?”

“Guess!” The prince said.

“Uh.” Was Kai going to get executed if this kid threw a tantrum? “Seven?”

“What?! No, I’m eight! How old are you?”

Kai shifted uncomfortably. “…Fifteen.” I think.

“Whoa, we’re basically the same age!”

“No, no we are not.”

One of the escorts that had come into the room with the prince stepped forward. He was a reedy man, but taller than Kai, and in servant’s clothing that was of a higher caliber than Kai’s. This was likely one of the highest ranking civilians in Shadowspire, with a tall hat and all.

“Excuse me, Prince Lloyd, may I speak with your…henchman for a moment?” the man asked.

The prince, looking annoyed, nodded. He allowed the servant to push Kai to a farther place into the room. The servant was an older man, perhaps even old enough to have seen the world before the Empire. And his grip on Kai’s elbow was unforgiving. Kai clamped up his mouth, knowing better than to speak flippantly with this man as he just had to the prince.

The old man scowled over Kai, not releasing his elbow. He smelled of old books and oils.

“Listen good, boy. You are here by the will of the Emperor and his merciful hand. But you are not trusted. You shall not get close to the prince without escort, or you will be sent to the cells. You shall follow my orders around him, as the prince’s advisor, or you will be sent to the cells. You shall do everything in your power to keep the boy happy, or you will be—”

“I understand,” Kai said. Or I’ll be sent to the cells, I fucking got it, asshole.

The man looked miffed, but didn’t chastise him. “…Your first role at his side will be getting him to follow his schedule. He’s been quite…combative with his previous nannies, especially with his classes and his bed time.”

“And, uh…what happened to his other nannies?”

“The prince requested that his father fire them. Few survived.”

Oh…great.

Kai took a deep breath. He just needed to survive long enough. Long enough for the grips to loosen, for them to trust him a little more, until he could be alone in a room with a sharp object. Or maybe…just maybe…escape.

He had thought about it a lot for the first while down below. Escaping and taking his revenge, building up a rebellion, finding his sensei, rekindling his old allies…he hadn’t considered it since the beginning. But now, knowing about an heir, feeling the fire in his veins once more…maybe it was still an option. Maybe, against all odds, he could make the sacrifices of his friends mean something.

“Okay. Follow the schedule,” Kai reiterated.

The old man nodded and handed him a slip of printed paper. It looked woefully out of place within the walls of a traditional palace, where all the servants wore traditional dress, and torches lined the walls. Kai could see the emergency electrical lights shut off across the ceilings, and he’d certainly seen a few guards sneaking glances at their phones. Garmadon had a strange desire for this historical farce.

Kai looked over the paper.

The first thing on the list was Gently wake the prince. Kai almost rolled his eyes. He had a feeling this kid was going to be a spoiled brat. And why did it say that Kai had to help the kid get dressed? He seemed fit enough to be able to dress himself.

“Are you done, chamberlain?” The prince demanded from the other side of the room. “I don’t like waiting a long time!”

“Yes, Your Highness. Our friend here is going to accompany you to your morning classes, now. Is there a special request you’d like to make for lunch today?”

The prince looked betrayed. “But I don’t want to go to class! I order you to cancel it!”

“I cannot do that, Your Highness, it was your father’s decision, and you know this. But you may chose anything you’d like for the kitchens to make as a reward for being attentive with Tutor Tudabone.”

“Ugh! Fine!” The prince crossed his arms and pouted. “Then I want dinosaur chicken nuggets.”

Dinosaur chicken nuggets. The ask rubbed at Kai the wrong way. It was so…childish.

The advisor smiled and bowed his upper body. “It shall be done. Thank you, Your Highness. If you have any problems today, tell your guards to send for me right away.”

The advisor leveled Kai with a dangerous look as he emphasized the word. Clearly, he expected Kai to try to pull something. Kai didn’t blame him. Kai wasn’t even confident that he wouldn’t. It was almost too easy. He was an assassin being sent off with the monarch’s child. It smelled more like a trap than anything. Perhaps the prince was secretly unkillable, inheriting oni power as he had.

Why else would this job be given to Kai? Did the Emperor think he’d been so broken that Kai was now completely loyal to him? Not a chance. This was a test of Kai’s awareness. He wanted to see if Kai could see such an obvious trap.

Fine. Kai would play his game long enough to find a way out, one way or another.

Even if that started with babysitting a snot-nosed kid.

-

The prince was a terrible actor. When Kai had shuffled over and asked the prince to lead to way to his morning class, the kid had given him a wide-eyed look and told him he had no idea where it was, actually. Kai had been unimpressed. The prince had given him a frankly mean smirk. The four guards with them had mutely pointed in a direction. The prince had groaned as Kai urged him onwards, but he’d at least gotten his dragging feet moving.

Kai couldn’t help but eye the guards that walked with them. He felt nervous with them at his back, like they’d draw their swords and stab him at any moment. He had no idea if they were the normal protection force for the prince or if they were there specifically to kill Kai should he present any danger to the kid. He had a feeling it was the latter. He could feel all of their eyes burning into his back, even as he walked a healthy distance beside the prince.

The kid had forgotten trying to act like he didn’t know where he was going, grumbling to himself as he marched down the hall, his outer-robe and skirt billowing behind him, not unlike his father’s cape. Kai was getting out of breath keeping up, despite his much longer legs. He’d gotten extremely out of shape while in the dungeon, barely using his legs to stand, much less walk a marathon.

That got him thinking about his chances were the four guards to strike out at him. He could still beat them, he suspected. He had the skill necessary, even without the strength to back it up. Despite what Garmadon seemed to think, his training routine for years had been far from kind. His sensei was a brutal teacher because the world was brutal. They had never been afforded the luxury of rest or ease. Not like this prince seemed to enjoy. No, Kai’s body had been molded into a weapon years before Garmadon had spared him.

So, yes, Kai could probably beat these four guards, especially with the use of his fire. But if more were to come? His stamina was practically nothing and skill could only make up for so much. And if, First Master forbid, the Emperor crawled out of his cave-like throne room, Kai would be splattered over the walls before he could smash a window out. No, he had to find a better time to act if he was going to try to escape.

But he doubted these guards’ first priority was ensuring he stay in the castle. No, they were here to protect Prince Lloyd.

The paper in Kai’s hands crinkled minutely as he stared at the boy’s back. He was half Kai’s height, his face rounded with youth, his stride far too light for the cruel world they lived in. Kai could steal a sword from a guard, run the boy through, and turn the blade on himself before anyone could do anything. He was sure of this.

He wouldn’t need to carry the secret to any resistance or to his sensei at that point. The job would already be done.

The prince had apparently caused the deaths of past nannies already. And Kai couldn’t forget his eyes and their resemblance to his father. They were burned into his memory, even with the kid’s back to him as it was. The prince would grow into a nightmare. He could be even worse than his father, as foolish and narcissistic as a bubble-wrapped child could turn out to be. If Kai could confidently say that he would go back in time and kill Garmadon’s child-self to prevent all of this horror, should he not also be able to kill this future tyrant?

Something made him hesitate. Kai would let this facade play out a while longer to gather some more information. Then, he would decide.

His fingers itched to do it, even as he told himself to be patient. He wanted to hurt Garmadon. He wanted to hurt him so fucking bad, Kai didn’t know what he’d be willing to do. That monster deserved to feel the pain that Kai had felt since he was five, the despair that every person suffering under the Dark Empire felt. If Kai did end up killing himself, he was going to take something that Garmadon seemed to care about with him.

After he got through this damn history lesson.

The prince was falling asleep on the desk he had been sat at within seconds of sitting down. Kai couldn’t blame the kid. If he hadn’t been leaning on the door, two guards hovering next to him, Kai would have fallen asleep, too. He was at least entertained in a morbid way by the lies being fed to the spoiled brat.

“And when the serpentine were politely asked to move from your father’s land or else join his great Empire, they refused and became very violent. Unfortunately, any attempts to reach out for peace have gone ignored, and to this day, the war rages on in the Dune Sea. Luckily, your father’s army does not require food nor rest, so they are very good at defending the Empire against the poison of the snakes.”

Asked to politely move. Yeah, sure. That seemed like something Garmadon would do.

“Are you writing this down, Your Highness?” The tutor asked, far too condescending for someone talking to a prince.

Prince Lloyd wilted in his seat, scribbling furiously. His mumble was small. “Yes, Mr. Tudabone. Snakes, snakes, blah, blah, blah.”

“Do not think you can nap in here.” The tutor slapped the prince’s desk a few times with his ruler. “We are going over the different tribes, next. This is very important for you to know about, as the future ruler of our great Empire.”

It was only a half hour later that Kai’s legs begun to shake. The mundaneness of the situation had successfully bored him enough to un-stiffen. This was not a good thing, however, seeing as his stiffness was the only thing keeping him upright for so long. His weakened legs couldn’t even manage to stand upright for this long.

He leaned against a bookshelf with a wince, not missing the twitch of the guards posted on his either sides. He was going to need a chair if he was going to be doing this all day. The wound on his chest was starting to ache, too, with all of the excitement dying down.

Unfortunately, the day passed with him in similar discomfort. While the prince ate his midday meal with his advisor, Kai was also made to stand behind him. During the boy’s walk about the palace grounds, Kai was forced to keep up even when his calves were burning with strain. The boy even had an etiquette lesson that Kai doubted Garmadon had strictly ordered him to attend, but the advisor insisted.

By the time the boy’s free time rolled around, Kai’s body was about ready to go back to his manacles on the torture table if it meant he got to lie down. He stubbornly fought his own exhaustion. He certainly didn’t complain when he got to slump to the ground a few feet from the prince when the boy settled down with a sketchbook.

“Thank the Master,” Kai muttered to himself, his shaking legs finally getting a break.

They were in the palace garden. Kai had no idea that the palace even had a garden until about ten minutes ago. It was tucked away behind the largest of the palace’s sharp spires, just in line with the Pass in the Veil. Had it been sunset once more, sunlight would be spilling right through it. Kai could tell that it was getting to be that time, the colors of the sky visible through the pass beginning to change. He couldn’t wait to see the sunshine again.

The garden was not full of beautiful colors and plush vegetation. All of the plants looked completely alien, and half-dead by Ninjago’s standards. Sharp, pale trees lacked leaves, and the flowers were as dark as the black stone of the palace. But there was a certain elegance to it, Kai supposed.

There was, at least, grass under them. Sure, a pale blue grass, but it felt like grass all the same.

“Are you sick or something?” The prince asked.

Kai tore his gaze from the slow approach of the sunset. The boy was tapping his pencil—mechanical—on his little sketchbook while staring at Kai evenly.

“No, Your Highness,” Kai said. “What makes you say that?”

“You can’t even walk, like, down a hallway without taking a break,” the kid said bluntly. “What’s wrong with you?”

Oh, your father tortured me in a deep, black room for who-knew-how-long. “I’m just tired. I’m sorry for holding you back…I’ll get stronger soon.”

“Good to know,” the kid nodded. “I’ll make sure your outfit still fits you when you’re not so shrivel-y anymore.”

“My…outfit, Your Highness?”

The kid flipped around his pad. The lines on the page were dark with the enthusiastic force the boy had scribbled with. Honestly, for a eight-year-old, it wasn’t too bad of a drawing. Kai could at least tell where the head and arms were supposed to be. Nya had always shown Kai her scribbles and it had been like translating ancient Ninjargon.

The blocky figure of a person was covered in triangle spikes and strange blocks with a large sword out in front of it. The figure wore a helmet with spikes even bigger than it’s sword. The prince had scribbled red at the ends of the spikes, like blood. Next to the figure, was one in just as elaborate of an outfit, but with a very tall spikey crown on, and a grinning face with sharp teeth beneath a scribble of yellow that resembled the prince’s blonde bowl cut.

“Yeah, you’re my first evil henchmen that my dad’s given me!” The prince proclaimed. “So that means you’re my right hand man! So you need a big sword and big armor, like my dad has. I don’t wear armor, so that’s why yours is gonna be so big.”

“Oh…got it.”

“And you have to wear it,” the prince glared. “Because I’m the boss of you.”

“Okay, sure,” Kai put his hands up with a shrug. “I mean…it looks cool enough.”

The prince’s glare lost it’s bite. The kid instead stared at Kai doubtfully. “…You like it?”

“Yeah, seems like it’d get the job done.”

Prince Lloyd suddenly grinned, leaning forward while clutching the book tightly. “Yeah, and if anyone you don’t like tries to hug you, BAM! Dead on the spikes! Or you could tackle people and they’d go—Pleugh!”

The prince mimed stabbing his hand with one of his fingers, then cackled like a madman, his pencil going down lightening fast to scribble more dark details into the page.

“Heh…yeah.”

Kai glanced towards the guards. He glanced towards the garden walls. Tall, spiked at the top, but not too tall. Kai had run up taller walls. But would he make it in his state? Doubtful. He’d have to climb one of the sickly trees, and he didn’t trust he could do that in time, either.

He sighed, leaning on one of his hands, elbow against his knee. “So what if I’m not there? You wouldn’t have any armor on to protect you. You didn’t give yourself a sword, either.”

The prince paused in his mad drawing and glanced up dismissively. “Well I don’t really care because you’ll just be right there. Or if I fire you, I’ll just get a different henchman.”

“Right, of course,” Kai said dryly.

He looked over the book enough to see the prince writing words. They were shaky and uneven, befitting a eight-year-old, but they were readable. He labeled his own picture Awsome emperer of Darknes 2 (me) and he paused on the other one.

The prince looked up. “Do you have a name or something? I’ll only write it if it’s cool.”

The ninja hesitated. “My name is Kai.”

The prince looked quite pleased at that. He wrote Kay next to the scary figure covered in blood. Kai felt dread curl in his stomach.

Not much later, the two guards abruptly opened the doors that lead back into the castle hallway. Kai flinched, but their meaning was clear. It was time to go. Kai didn’t have a watch, but it seemed to be time for the next thing on the prince’s schedule.

Dinner with his father.

The prince sat down at the end of a very long dining table. The nightmarish form of his father, so much bigger than him, sat in the seat directly next to the prince. The Emperor asked the kid questions about his day. His tone when talking to the prince was so different, so much…gentler, if that word could ever be used to describe the Emperor. Prince Lloyd showed him the picture he’d drawn, but complained about Tutor Tudabone again. It seemed to be a common complaint. The Emperor asked about Kai, too, but the prince just shrugged.

The way that the Emperor interacted with his small son confirmed it for Kai.

Garmadon loved Lloyd.

He did not keep the kid around as some sort of assurance of his line, or a power move, or anything political. He just…loved his son.

And it fucking hurt to see. It reopened the wound of his family’s deaths like a fresh knife right through scar tissue. Like it was the day after he’d lost everything and he was kneeling in a dark room, scared and alone and begging for the First Spinjitsu Master to allow him to be with his family—and getting no response.

Emperor Garmadon loved Prince Lloyd. He was capable of loving someone who was so human in all the big ways. Emperor Garmadon had perhaps even loved a human woman enough to sire the kid. And if Garmadon was capable of that love, that meant he was capable of empathy. He was not just a husk full of nothing but evil, an idea personified. He was a rounded, living being, who felt emotions.

And he’d still chosen to slay Kai’s thirteen year old sister and his three best friends. He’d still chosen to enslave countless lives in labor camps, to control every job market, to walk the streets with his Imperial Guard, beating people, stealing from them, murdering anyone who spoke out against them.

This was not a force unable to understand it’s actions, so absorbed in itself as it was.

Garmadon just didn’t care. He didn’t give a single fuck about the people in the world he controlled. He had humanity inside of him and decided to instead take glee in every horrible crime that could be committed. He was worse than a monster, worse than the oni of lore.

Kai was able to stand through dinner, smelling the deliciously cooked meal, his legs trembling under him, because his vision had gone straight red throughout the rest of it. The barely contained rage threatened to be the thing that finally broke him.

And oh, that rage sweeping through him like a tidal wave felt even stronger than the rush of flame beneath his skin.

The Emperor did not notice Kai’s feelings, in the darkness of the dining room as he was. Kai knew this. Because if the Emperor had seen him in that moment, Kai would have been dead on the spot, never to be let near his vulnerable son again.

But the Emperor did not see. So Kai accompanied the Prince to his final destination. On his schedule, it was labeled Bedtime.

Kai stood aside as the boy brushed his teeth. The two guards watched him from their posts beside the door. Kai barely moved. He hadn’t spoken a word since they’d left the dining room. Kai wouldn’t breathe, either, if he could help it.

Kill him, kill him, kill him. It was on loop in his head. It was so obvious it was what he should do. There were now only two guards in the room. The prince’s room was deep within the palace, there were no windows for him to escape out of. Kai had been, dare he say, rested.

It would be so easy. The guards wouldn’t be able to react before they went up in flames. They’d only be able to scream. Kai would steal a sword to make it painless for the brat. Because it wasn’t really his fault, he’d just been born to the wrong man-demon. He would still have to answer for it.

Prince Lloyd spat into his sink, wiped his face, and bounded back into his bedroom. He jumped onto his overly-plush bed, so unlike the unforgiving stone ground that Kai had been chained to for so long. So unlike the all encompassing earth that surrounded the rotting corpse of his thirteen-year-old baby sister. If her body hadn’t been burned to ash. If her limbs hadn’t been sawed off for parts. If her head hadn’t exploded against the rocks that had crushed her. If her dead body hadn’t been used by one of the many sick people Kai had met in Shadowspire to bring themselves some sort of disgusting, perverted pleasure.

Kai’s hand shook to grasp the hilt of one of the guards’ swords and decorate the child’s bedroom in blood.

“Henchman, give me my Clawey.”

Kai blinked, curling his hands into fists to curb his thoughts. “…What?”

“Clawey! My jaglion!” Prince Lloyd, now snug in his many blankets and pillows, pointed insistently across the room. Kai followed the finger with his gaze.

On the shelf, a stuffed animal sat. It had clearly been very loved, the fake fur matted down, and the stuffing having migrated to the head a bottom as a result of it being held around the middle often.

Kai felt numb as he approached it and plucked it off the shelf. He walked over and handed it to the kid.

On Prince Lloyd’s nightstand was his pencil from earlier. It was not a knife. But soft flesh didn’t take the sharpest blade in the world to split.

Kai’s shaking hand touched the nightstand’s surface. The pencil mere inches from his fingers. He stared at it.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” the kid exclaimed.

A small hand took a hold of his, twisting it from the desk so that Kai’s palm was upright. The prince placed a paper into Kai’s hand and he mechanically took it.

It was another drawing. Kai wasn’t sure when the prince had found the time to draw it. Perhaps in the garden, when Kai had begun to get lost in his plans of escape.

The drawing had two diagrams. One showcased Prince Lloyd’s earlier comment. It was another drawing of the spiked figure, this time with a full person impaled on the front, as if they had indeed tried to hug it. There was red pencil denoting the spraying blood.

The drawing next to it was another of the spiked figure, but this one had no blood. This one showed arrows pointing at the spikes being higher up on the armor, so one would only be stabbed if they were as tall as the figure was. It was proven by the smaller drawn figure of Prince Lloyd, in his Emperor robes and crown, hugging the figure safely, short as he was.

“Don’t worry, we can measure it good when we build your outfit,” the prince assured him, pointing to the second picture.

Kai looked up to see unwavering confidence in the eyes of the child. In fact, Prince Lloyd smiled at him, and it wasn’t his mischievous, cackling smile. He looked like any other excited child. Happy, even, as he hugged his stuffed animal with a force to be reckoned with.

Horror crashed down through Kai. Horrified at what he had almost just done.

This was a child, an innocent child. How could he even consider it? All he’d ever stood for was the freedom, the happiness of those suffering. How dare he decide which lives deserved that freedom and which did not?

He was not an assassin, he’d never been an assassin. He’d been a ninja. And this? This was not what he’d ever wanted. This was not who he’d ever wanted to be.

“Thank you,” Kai said, holding the paper to his chest. “I’ll—I’ll keep this safe until we need it as a reference, how’s that sound?”

“Yeah!” Lloyd giggled. How had that ever sounded menacing?

“Okay,” Kai forced a fake smile. “Awesome. Goodnight, Your Highness.”

“Goodnight, Henchman! Turn my light off on your way out!”

There was a switch for the torch in the room. An electric torch, how theatrical of Garmadon. Kai flicked it off and left the boy to sleep.

The guards led him to the room he’d been placed in the night before. It was humble compared to Lloyd’s playroom of a sleeping space, but it was one hundred times what his dungeon cell had been. Kai could hardly enjoy it. He sat on his bed, the picture on his lap, and his hands pressed against his face.

His sobs were already silent, but his tears dripped passed his palms despite himself. How could he ask Nya and his parents to wait for him now? Not with the shame he’d brought upon them.

Even now, he was sure they were looking down in disgust at a boy who had almost murdered a child in his hatred.

-

The naivete of the kid the next day made Kai feel sick. Prince Lloyd prattled on about just about anything on his mind, not a clue how close Kai had been to ending his life just the night before. Kai paid extra attention to the kid’s words. As if that would make up for where his actions had almost taken him. Prince Lloyd, at the very least, seemed to enjoy the attention. He complained less about Kai’s ability to keep up with him while they carried out the new schedule that the advisor had given Kai that morning.

During the kid’s morning classes with the asshole tutor, Kai subtly helped him cheat on a history sheet that the tutor had given him. When Tutor Tudabone had looked over it, he’d given Kai a stinkeye, as if he knew, but announced that Prince Lloyd had gotten every question right and therefore they could be finished early that day. Prince Lloyd just about fell over himself in his excitement. He demanded Kai accompany him to something called the park.

It turned out to be a small playground inside that had been built for Prince Lloyd. It was a bit cramped for Kai to believe that a playground had been the room’s original intent, but it worked. There were buckets of toys and the like for a much younger child than Prince Lloyd—it seemed this had been his playroom for quite a while. He demanded Kai play with him on the climbing gym in the center of the room.

Kai was curious himself about how much his body could handle only two days out of hell. Turned out, not much at all—Prince Lloyd laughed rambunctiously at him when he fell flat on his back, missing a rung with his foot. The air was very nearly knocked out of his lungs.

Oh, First Master, how embarrassing his abilities had become. He was going to have to start his training from scratch. And after so may years of building it up…now a mere child could place his feet steadier than Kai.

That night, they were scheduled again to have dinner with the kid’s father.

Emperor Garmadon never showed up, his set spot remaining empty. Kai longed to swoop down and steal it for himself, indulging in the wonderful meal prepared for Prince Lloyd alone.

Kai glanced at one of the guards, mumbling, “Is the Emperor coming, or…?”

The guard only glared at him, but Kai caught him sharing a look with his fellow guard when Kai looked away.

Prince Lloyd seemed to have overheard as he called from his chair, the back to Kai and the guards. “Dad doesn’t eat with me a lot. It was kind of weird when he did yesterday. He’s real busy, y’know.”

“…That makes sense,” Kai lied.

Four days later, Kai attempted his escape.

He didn’t even make it beyond the courtyard before a boney hand was cutting off the circulation to his arm. He’d screamed, charred a few ribs, but had ultimately failed. He wasn’t sure where the boneguard had come from, or if it had always been watching him from the shadows, but the consequences proved exactly to be what the Emperor had promised.

-

He spent three weeks below. This time, he was told the date and time every time he was taken for torture. He was not allowed to know how long it would last while he was in the midst of it, but he was not lost to time again. His flesh was peeled anew. His head was shaved down to nothing. His lungs were pushed to their limits. But he barely screamed.

The bathing room was a familiar experience when it was all over, but he felt even more hollow than he had before. Somehow, the three weeks had felt longer than his first visit—which he knew had been months. It was the taste of freedom so swiftly taken that had made it far more inhumane than before.

After, he was dressed in the red hanfu and placed by the prince’s side as if nothing had happened at all. The prince seemed none the wiser.

When he returned, Prince Lloyd only asked, “My dad said you visited the training grounds. The food was bad, huh?”

Kai, with his head torn from the careless use of the shears, trembled as he responded, “Ye-Yeah, it was…it was bad.”

“Then stay here with me, dumb-dumb! The training grounds are for my dad’s fighters. You’re my henchman, remember?”

“Ri…Right, Your Highness.”

“And your hair looks funny, now.”

Thanks a lot, you little prick.

Despite the simplicity of the prince’s words, they did get Kai thinking. What would happen if Kai did stay?

Of course, he could always kill himself if Garmadon tried to force him to do something he couldn’t do. Nothing but the man-demon himself or one of his boneguard could do anything to stop Kai from doing that much. Escape seemed like a slim option. Months away, if security measures around him stayed the same, but he had a feeling Garmadon would beef it up as Kai got stronger.

Besides, if he did escape, what then? His friends were dead. They had been the only hope to defeat Garmadon. Now, without children (seeing as they had all only been children themselves…) their elements were gone, given to newly born infants somewhere in Ninjago, and years away from being unlocked. Without them, nothing could be done against the Emperor with all of his power. They’d been overconfident fools and gone in too early. It might have been his sensei’s fault, or theirs for believing him, but the fact remained the same: it would be another twenty-odd years before the new masters grew strong enough to face Garmadon again.

Until then, Ninjago would suffer. And perhaps even after that, if those new champions failed like Kai and his family had.

No. Escape held nothing for Kai but the promise of misery for the rest of his life, just as it would be where he was.

But here…here, he was close to the Emperor. He was within the heart of the evil in the world. Where better to try and affect things? To hear all, to know all there was to know about the machine?

And who better than to have direct access to than the future ruler of that Empire? Kai was assigned to be at Prince Lloyd’s side at all times, for as long as he remained useful. That could be a very long time. Kai could help the kid. Kai could make it so that, if this horrible Empire were to endure, perhaps it’s future ruler would not be so bloodthirsty, so war mongering. Perhaps they could instead have an Emperor who sought peace and valued justice, an Emperor who was kind and generous.

Lloyd was innocent. And where there was innocence, there was the capacity for good. Kai believed that. Kai had to believe that because what else did he have?

-

When he didn’t try to escape again, Emperor Garmadon saw to it that his training began.

It was bloody, degrading work at first. He would only see Prince Lloyd half the day before he was sent off to improve his body. The boneguard spoke in gravelly voices that matched their missing vocal cords. There was never an extra word said—it was always the bare minimum. Sometimes, the only thing said to Kai during a training session would be “bad” and “good.” They judged his push-up form with their glowing eye sockets.

They didn’t wait for his strength or his stamina to build before throwing him into training bouts with them. He would go from running and carrying heavy stones to and fro to getting his ass kicked by these bonemen almost twice his height. They didn’t seem to understand that human bodies had limits at all, in fact. It wasn’t unusual for Garmadon to return to his heaving, but otherwise immobile body laying on the carpet of his throne room, seeping blood. He’d call the human guards to drag him out, and the maid to clean up the messes he left behind.

It was exhausting being around Prince Lloyd once the sessions had begun. He’d barely get a few hours of sleep before he would be entertaining a wild eight-year-old who enjoyed playing pranks on his tutors and hiding from his advisor in dangerous spots.

Once, he’d climbed his way to the ledge above the doors to the throne room. Kai had been forced to climb up after him when he’d gotten stuck, like a cat up a tree. Kai’s body would instantly shut down at the mere mention of sleeping time.

Kai was sent back to the dungeon months into this routine. Prince Lloyd had tripped in the courtyard and blood had bloomed on his knee, the scratches small. Still, he’d let out a bloodcurdling scream at the sight of red and promptly fainted. Kai had scrambled to figure out if he’d hit his head, but the boy was just nauseous at the sight of blood. The son of Emperor Garmadon was squeamish. Kai couldn’t believe it.

He also couldn’t fucking believe that they sent him down to the dungeon for a fucking week because of his scream. Kai emerged from the dungeon after that short trip more irritated than anything else. Fortunately little of his progress had been lost this time around. Perhaps Garmadon didn’t want to have to start all over, either.

Unfortunately, they cut his hair down again. And it had just been growing in enough to cover the last shearing scars.

Lloyd’s nineth birthday came around. Seeing as he was kept a secret from everywhere outside of the upper level of Shadowspire, the celebration had to be kept to the palace, but the palace spared no expense in celebrating for him. The walls were decorated, fireworks were lit, a feast was made. Lloyd was even allowed to meet a few of the servants’ children his age who were confined to the palace along with him.

One was the son of Tutor Tudabone. Kai felt tired just looking at the two boys whispering together. It seemed Tudabone’s son was no more of a fan of his than Prince Lloyd was. They were planning some truly sinister things at Prince Lloyd’s small party, and Kai was sure to have to deal with those plans later.

There was also the daughter of the Emperor’s favorite aristocrats—two members of Ninjago’s original Imperial family that had betrayed their country to side with Garmadon in the past generation. Their daughter was not one of those confined to the palace, but Garmadon apparently trusted her family enough for her to keep his secret. Kai did not like the little girl. Her eyes never matched her words. A politician already. Thankfully, Lloyd seemed to prefer the Tudabone kid’s company.

Kai, allowed off his training that day at the request of a certain prince, accompanied the kid for a full day for the first time in a while. Prince Lloyd was far too excited about it.

At the end of the day, Kai saw the kid to bed. A whole nine years old now. Lloyd seemed to barely grown an inch over the past few months.

“Alright, alright, brush your teeth, Your Highness.”

Kai mussed up the kid’s hair before the prince shot off towards his bathroom. The teeth brushing sounded like an intense duel from this room. Kai rolled his eyes a bit.

Behind Kai, the two guards still remained. They were quietly speaking between each other, now, something bout a big sporting event that had happened in Ninjago City that they’d bet on. One of them had lost their money.

“Done!” Lloyd leapt back into the room, his red eyes wide and passionate. “Now my birthday request!”

“As long as you don’t ask to stay up past your bedtime,” Kai reminded him.

Lloyd jumped into his bed, clutching Clawknife to himself. As he settled, he leveled Kai with an expectant expression. Kai raised an eyebrow at the kid’s antics.

“I want you to tell me a story.”

“Oh? I don’t think I’m great at that,” Kai said. “But I guess I can try. What kind of story do you want?”

Kai sat at the edge of the bed. Lloyd looked dead serious, all of a sudden. “I want a story about you! You fight so good and you didn’t even tell me why your dad let you live with me.”

Kai’s mouth went dry. He glanced at the guards, but they were distracted between each other. He…didn’t want to tell Lloyd any stories about himself. They were all sad, and…every one of them ended in tragedy—even the so-called story he was leading right now.

“It’s my birthday!” Lloyd stubbornly reminded him when he hesitated.

“Okay, yeah, okay,” Kai sighed. “I’m just thinking. Um…I…I had a little sister. She–She was a lot like you.”

Lloyd’s eyes blew wide, but he remained quiet. Almost like he believed Kai would stop if he inturrupted. Smart kid.

“She was real stubborn,” Kai smiled, rubbing his knuckle into Lloyd’s hair. The kid yelped, and jumped back, but there was a grin on his face. “…She would always get into fights when she saw someone being mean. I’d get into fights with her, of course, to make sure she was okay. She was really smart, too. Really smart. She started building these mechanical crafts when she was your age. One time, she built a little robot, and it scared me so much I couldn’t sleep for weeks!”

Lloyd laughed, kicking his feet. Still, he didn’t interrupt. His eyes begged for more.

“She taught me how to read,” Kai continued. “Because I didn’t get to go to school and I didn’t have any tutors. It was just me and her growing up in a small village. She would always get cold feet at night.”

Lloyd gasped. “I get cold feet, too!”

Kai smiled sadly. “Oh, yeah? Wear socks, then, Green Bean, what’ve you been doing? Freezing to death in your bed?”

“No, that’s weird, Kai, no one wears socks to bed.”

“Well, that’s why you’re cold!”

Lloyd fidgeted with his stuffed animal. “Um. What happened to her?”

Kai quickly looked down at his lap. Lloyd was just a kid—it wasn’t like he was going to see the truth in his eyes. But Kai didn’t want him to see by accident. He pushed down the swell of anger he felt rising, leaving only the grief to take a hold of his heart. It made him feel very tired.

“She…She died,” Kai said softly. “Before I came to live with you.”

“Oh.” Lloyd sounded disappointed. “I’m sorry.”

“…It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault.”

Lloyd put his stuffed animal into Kai’s lap. Kai instinctually grabbed it, looking up at the kid. Lloyd was smiling hesitantly. “She sounds really cool.”

Kai smiled, blinking through his burning eyes and the stuck feeling in his throat. “She was. I think you guys would have been good friends.”

“What about your dad?”

Kai pursed his lips, then shrugged. “I don’t know. I never really knew my parents.”

“Then who took care of you?” Lloyd demanded, confused.

“Just me, I guess. Me and my sister grew up all by ourselves.”

“That’s crazy!”

The image of a kindly old man flashed through his mind, but Kai banished the thought of him. As much as he shared with Lloyd, he would likely take any information he had about that man to his grave.

“What about your mom, kid?” Kai changed the subject. “Did you ever know her?”

He’d been desperately curious to know about the mystery woman since he’d figured out Garmadon had done the deed with someone. No one in their right mind that four-armed monster and think yeah, I want that, so Lloyd’s mom was definitely insane. That or she hadn’t wanted it at all, of course.

Lloyd frowned. “No. My dad said she left us behind when I was just a baby, so I don’t think she’s very nice, anyway. Did your parents do that, too?”

Kai sighed. “Yeah. They did. My parents probably aren’t that nice either, then, huh?”

This made Lloyd look far too sad for Kai’s liking. He hadn’t meant for it to end on such a depressing note for the kid.

“Well, I don’t think we need them,” Kai abruptly declared, placing his hands on his hips and shifting on the bed to face Lloyd more. “Because you’ve got me and I’m not going anywhere.”

Lloyd looked like he was just about to cry. He sniffled, throwing his Clawknife away and jumping out from his blankets.

Lloyd hugged him tight. Kai didn’t know why he was so surprised. When he processed the little arms around his neck, he hugged Lloyd back.

“I think you’re my best friend,” Lloyd mumbled into the the hanfu at Kai’s shoulder.

Kai found it hard to smile, but he forced it, even when he wanted to cry. He patted the kid’s back. “You’re my best friend, too, buddy.”

-

A year had passed since Kai had met the prince and fit into his duty the prince’s aid. Bodyguard, sure, but the palace guard that still trailed Kai around told him he still hadn’t graduated to that level of trust. He didn’t expect to, either, considering he’d stab the Emperor in the back if he saw a free target. What they didn’t have to worry about was him laying a finger on Lloyd’s head. Kai would sooner kill himself than hurt the kid.

His training had finally been paying off. Though painful and rigorous, and downright inhuman a majority of the time, the results were clearer than day when Kai began to defeat the boneguards in their little spars. When you could beat a skeleton with superhuman strength, no man could stand against you. All the while, his flame grew stronger with him.

The day that Lloyd saw him turn off the torch lights with a wave of his hands, the boy had nearly burst with excitement. It had taken a while to convince the kid that, no, Kai was not an oni, followed by a long conversation about what elemental masters were.

Kai had graduated from the hanfu of a servant to the leather armor of a warrior. It was far from the efficient and sturdy plate mail that the Imperial Guard wore, but it denoted Kai as something other than a simple laundry-folder. He felt better with the light armor on, so similar to the kind he had worn atop his gi in happier times.

There was nothing significant about that day. Lloyd had been asking Kai to teach him his martial arts and Kai had told him he’d think about it. Lloyd had accepted the answer and was now doodling in one of his books while sitting in a waiting chair.

The chamberlain, Lloyd’s advisor, was late to a meeting he had called of the prince.

Kai frowned at his watch. The chamberlain was rarely late. He was a quite strict man, in fact, and he’d had the courage to punish even the prince for tardiness in the past. Kai shared a look with the guard. The guard also seemed unnerved and shrugged at Kai.

“Your Highness, maybe we should go hunt down the chamberlain, eh?” Kai offered. “Give him a good talking-to about being on time?”

Lloyd perked up mischievously at the idea. “It’s about time he got a talking-to instead of me!”

Kai smiled. Lloyd jumped up, stashing his book in his robes, and took a step towards the door.

The window burst.

Lloyd screamed, glass blew into the hall, the guard lunged forward.

Kai had less than a second to process everything. A figure was leaping through the window, in slow motion to Kai’s adrenaline-affected senses. Right towards Lloyd. There was a long blade pointed directly for the cringing prince.

Kai didn’t have time to think beyond that. If he hesitated, Lloyd would die. This person trying to kill the prince could in no way be more important to Kai than Lloyd was.

The only weapon Kai had been given the last few months—a long dagger—was ripped from his belt and flying through the air almost the moment that the window shattered.

It hit the figure with a wet thunk, right at the base of the throat. Blood spurted everywhere, spraying over Lloyd’s face, and Kai’s front, as Kai had leaped forward. The dagger had knocked the figure off course and the deadly placement had them crumpling to the ground, sword clattering to the tile floor.

The guard jumped forward and pulled Lloyd back, brandishing his sword, though the threat had been delt with.

Kai, anger coursing through him, rage, even, Who the fuck would try to hurt this little kid? He grabbed the figure’s shoulder and pulled them onto their back. Hooking a finger under their facemask, he jerked it up to reveal Lloyd’s attempted killer.

Kai didn’t recognize the middle aged woman. But, by the light in her eyes, he could tell she recognized him in her dying moments.

She coughed and blood came from her lips. Her chest shuddered around the dagger sunk through her collarbone.

“Who sent you?” He snarled.

“You–You’re—” Blood stained her chin. Her voice was wet with it. Her eyes were getting father and farther away. “—sup-pposed to be one–one of th–the g-good guys.”

He grabbed her black gi. “Who sent you?”

The light in her eyes faded. It then disappeared and her eyes went still. Her chest stopped moving, her limbs stopped twitching. The dagger stood out of her chest like an early grave marking.

Dull shock went through Kai’s body. What…? She was…She was dead. Kai had killed her.

He had known what he was doing—he hadn’t thrown that dagger wildly. No, he’d reacted quickly and knowingly. It had landed where he had meant it to. It had landed where it had stopped her from reaching Lloyd, from harming him. It had been her or Lloyd.

Yes, Kai had known what he was doing. He’d chosen Lloyd’s life over this woman’s. This woman who had been willing to murder a nine-year-old boy. She was a monster. She had been a monster, if she was willing to do that. It hadn’t been a competition, who had deserved to live. And she had thought she was one of the “good guys”?

Kai had thought that, too. That night that he’d considered it. He’d rationalized it all in his head, knowing it was wrong, but thinking about some greater good. And he had been no less of a monster for that.

Even so, it was not a shadowy beast that lay still under Kai’s hands. It was a woman, who had tears brimming in her eyes as she’d choked to death on her own blood. He’d…killed her. He’d been in so many fights before, he’d beat so many people, but he’d never…

He felt a familiar numbness fill his limbs and slow his mind.

He stood up and stepped over the body of the woman. He left his dagger, his only weapon, there.

The prince stood, the guard’s arm still wrapped around him. His face was speckled with blood, not unlike Kai’s. Lloyd stared at the body on the ground, his face white with a silent horror, lips pressed in a firm line below wide, unblinking eyes.

Kai, knowing Lloyd’s sickness at the mere sight of blood, stepped between the kid and the corpse. He didn’t offer any words of assurance—couldn’t—but he did that much.

It took five extra seconds for Lloyd to seemed to realize he was there. He looked up at Kai.

There was something disturbed in the kid’s eyes that Kai had never seen in Lloyd, but he had seen in others. He’d seen it in his sister, when they’d watched the dead of the labor camp near Ignacia be piled outside before their bodies were mass burned. He’d seen it in his best friends as they’d described the horrifying stories that the Empire had wrought on them before the old man had found them and picked them up from their gutters. And Kai had seen it in the mirror.

The shock catching up to him, Lloyd’s breaths quickened and he began to cry, fear in his face. He ripped himself free of the guard and threw his arms around Kai’s middle, pressing his face into Kai’s leather armor. Sobs choked against his chest.

Kai hesitated after raising his hands. They were smeared with blood from the woman’s gi. It was probably pooling on the tile behind him.

Kai wrapped an arm around the kid’s shoulders and ran a hand through his hair. The bathing room could always wash the blood away later.

The guard shared a firm look with Kai, then ran to get help with the situation. And if any other would-be assassins showed their faces in the mean time, the guard trusted that Kai would deal with it. He’d do whatever he had to—whatever it took to keep Lloyd safe and to ensure a bright future for Ninjago.

-

Kai was waterboarded for three hours for letting the woman die before getting any information out of her. The questions raised—who was she, how did she get in, who sent her, was her entire goal Lloyd, and if so, how did word of him get out to the Emperor’s enemies?—haunted the palace and it showed with the Emperor’s tantrums that ended with three servants dead by the end of the weak. He wanted answers and he wanted them now—spies were sent out to find those answers as soon as the woman was identified.

No Imperial guard accompanied Kai and Lloyd during their days after that.

Their lack of escort wasn’t the only change that followed. Lloyd had grown quiet, he’d lost much of his pride, and he never spoke of his desires to be the next evil Emperor again. He drew more and climbed less. He occasionally clung to Kai’s armor with a hand as they walked, something Kai hoped the Emperor would not see. He would no doubt see it as an unacceptable weakness, even in his own son.

Kai couldn’t blame the kid, nor could he wonder what had changed. He knew that death changed a person. Hell, he knew that he was a different person after that day, too. He would never be the same Kai whose hands had been clean, the same Kai that his sensei had trained to love and protect all life, the same Kai who had been Nya’s older brother. And Lloyd would never be the bright-eyed boy who had given Kai hug-repellent spikes on his armor.

Still, Kai felt he had to do something. He could be partially to blame, even if his lack of action would have resulted in Lloyd dying. He’d still killed a woman right in front of him, let her blood spray over him. He had to do something to help Lloyd through it. And if he didn’t have that to focus on, Kai would go crazy with the burden of his conscience telling him that he, too, deserved to die for what he’d done.

Months ago, Kai had asked around after finding it strange that Lloyd was not being taught to fight. After all, the prime age to start martial arts training was around six years, and he had assumed that any monarch would want their child to be trained for both respectable reasons and to give the kid some self-defense if the worst came to worst. He had found out in hushed tones that Emperor Garmadon intended to never allow Lloyd to learn how to fight.

Kai couldn’t understand why this was. It wasn’t like he could simply ask the Emperor. Even the mention of something he’d firmly outlawed may set him off and Kai wasn’t looking to visit the dungeon again. So he could only assume it was because he didn’t want his precious son to be hurt in any fights.

Well, Kai knew Lloyd better than that. The kid was tough as nails and giving him an outlet to release his emotions into would provide the kid a much-needed coping mechanism. It had helped Kai, after all, who had once been drowning in anger problems far worse than he had now.

One night, Kai told the kid he wanted to show him something before he went to sleep. The drowsy nine-year-old agreed to stand opposite of him and follow his movements as Kai led him through four basic forms.

Lloyd, smart as he was, seemed to catch on quickly. His eyes got a little brighter, but he seemed nervous. “Is this martial arts?”

“One style, yeah,” Kai confirmed. “Fingers pinched, like this, and bring your arms up.”

Kai took a deep inhale and released the exhale as he moved. Lloyd naturally copied his controlled breathing as they returned to the horse stance.

“My dad said I’m not supposed to learn martial arts.”

“Flatten your hands. These are called knife hands. Slowly bring them up and snap out.” Kai demonstrated, then addressed the kid’s statement. “Forms never hurt anyone. Do you want to learn martial arts?”

“…My dad said I shouldn’t.”

“But do you want to?” Kai exhaled, returning to horse stance.

Lloyd was quiet for a long time. Then, “Yes. I want to be like you.”

Kai walked him through all twelve forms. Lloyd caught on like a string of yarn lit fire. Kai told him to memorize these and to practice them every night. If he forgot, he could ask for a refresher. When he could do them all perfectly, he could show Kai, and Kai could then teach him some more.

Forms turned into kicks, which turned into boxing, which turned into combinations. All the while, they kept this learning a secret from the Emperor. It wasn’t hard. The Emperor was a busy man and only came around when Kai needed punishment. And, eventually, when the Emperor found other uses for Kai. Kai carried out these few and far between orders if it meant that he would find his way back to Lloyd, even when said orders became less few and less far between.

No matter what he was asked to do, he was always returned to his primary duty: To protect the prince with all of his flesh and blood, with all of the power he wielded, and with the weight oaths he’d taken so long ago.

Chapter Text

70 A.E.

Ten Years After The Failed Assassination of Emperor Garmadon

The dream was always the same.

Everything was coated with a golden haze, like he was looking through a colored glass piece. Because of that, he couldn’t have possibly been confident in knowing exactly what the weapons look like—except he was. Deep in his gut, he was so sure of it, there was no room for even a hint of doubt. The weapons before him were made of pure gold, as gold as the most expensive coin in the market, as gold as the jewelry of the aristocrats, as gold as the fresh ore still protected by the embrace of the mountain. That confused him. Who would create weapons out of gold? Gold may be expensive, but it was brittle, it bent, it broke. It’s only use was its expense. Lloyd had always been taught that the strongest blades were made from steel mixed with iron at the perfect temperature, crafted only by the knowledgeable hand.

Yet, four weapons lay before him, and the power that radiated from them was undeniable. Dual shuriken, bladed with sharp edges, were cold to the touch and sent frost climbing up his arm. A scythe, larger and no doubt heavier than he could lift, had a blade that extended as long as he was tall, with the wisdom of the oldest tombs. Nunchaku, with eyes that burned with a white knowledge, had no chain holding the two grips together, rather what seemed to be lightening that was very much alive. And the blade, longer than any odachi he had ever seen, with beautiful curls of golden flames climbing it’s grip.

The boy reached for them, as he always did, but the result was the same. The frost of the shuriken turned his fingers black. The scythe might as well have been bolted to the ground for all he could lift it. The nunchaku sent a painful current through him, forcing him to pull back. Gripping the hilt of the sword sent fire rolling up his arm until he screamed. They were not meant for him, it was so very clear, and yet, he was drawn to them like a doomed fly to a flame. Why else would they be here if not for him?

As in every dream, he soon found out.

Four ghostly figures appeared around him, standing with the weapons at their feet around him. The same way that he was so sure that the weapons were golden despite the monochrome curtain, he knew that these figures shone with their own unique colors that he could not see. He could sense power, too, from these figures. One felt like patience, one like excitement, one like strength, and one like deep, corralled rage.

The figures picked up the weapons that lay at their feet and all four stepped forward, crowding him from all sides. From the way they put their weapons in front of them, towards him, it was clear that they were offering to give them to him. The boy tried to put his hands up, open his mouth and explain that he didn’t want them because they so clearly didn’t want him, but no words could be formed.

But the figures reacted like they had heard his thoughts. The weapons were pulled back in synchroneity, and the figures instead reached forward their free hands. Their hands were wrapped, like they were prepared for a boxing match, and that much was a strange detail while the rest of their bodies were almost too bright to look at.

Their hands touched him, flat against his chest, his left shoulder, his back, and his right shoulder.

Emotions poured through him, indescribable and overwhelming, as that radiated power was pushed through their hands and through his very being. He felt it fill his body, circulating his qi pathways, touching his dantians and overflowing them in the same breath. It was scary and confusing as much as it felt good, up until he looked up to face the figure in front of him with the firm hand placed at his chest.

He couldn’t see the figure’s face, if it even had a face beneath the glow, but he could feel it staring at him. The boy should have felt terrified or intimidated, but even in the face of such transformative power, all he felt was…safe. With the figure watching over him, an aura of familiarity and comfort calmed his rapidly beating heart. It was like coming in from a cold, snowy night and sitting by the hearth, a cup of fresh tea placed in his hands, and a warm smile above him. And he knew, in his heart, that he would never be in danger as long as these four figures stood with him.

The complete sense of safety was something near alien to him.

“Who are you?” He tried to ask every time.

He never got a response, but somehow he knew that he was being smiled at.

Prince Lloyd woke up.

He did not wake up panting, sweating, or thrashing among his sheets. The lingering sense of fear or devastation did not hold him captive. The aftermath of the dream was so unlike the sick feeling his constant nightmares gave him. Rather, he was filled with the pleasant sense of peace.

He loved having that dream for the peace that came with it, even though the details of the dream slipped away from his mind, like they did every time he woke up from it.

But the words Who are you? wanted to form on his lips.

Lloyd sighed, sitting up and pulling a leg up towards him to wrap his arms around it. His room was pitch black, deep within the palace, somewhere far from any windows. The most defensible possible position, he assumed, since the most defensible possible position was always the place he found himself. The place he was ushered to, more like.

There had been an attempt made to make up for the lack of windows. His bed was large enough to fit five men and graced with silk sheets beneath heavy comforters, and the most comfortable down pillows he could imagine. The cold floors were covered in rugs, the furniture made of intricately carved wood, the bedposts offering some privacy curtains. The room was large enough for a king—large enough for the only prince of the world’s Empire.

Even with all of the room’s amenities—it was still cold. Cold, like the rest of the palace, which offered little more comfort than a dank cave. The halls were, at least, not damp. Lloyd had been stuck within the palace walls for the past seventeen, going on eighteen, years and his arms still broke out in goosebumps the moment his sheets fell too far. That chill was quick to leech the remaining warmth that the dream gave him—the warm, safe dream that he could never properly remember.

Lloyd ran a hand through his knotted bedhead, pulling his hair back to glance at the alarm clock on his bedside table. The shocking electric numbers shone brightly in the otherwise dark room, so clearly out of place among the ancient designs and the torches that lined his walls.

The peace of the dream never left him groggy after waking, so Lloyd could forget trying to fall back asleep—but the numbers on the clock told him he would have had to get up soon, anyway.

“Great,” he said into the silence of his room, his fingers curled in his hair. “Come on, Lloyd. You can do this. Just get through the day.”

Forcing his own words to be his motivation, he gathered up his will and rolled out of bed.

By the light of the alarm clock, and his perfect memory of the room he’d stayed in since he could remember, he flicked the torches on. Purple flame burst to life around the room, lighting his bedchamber. With as little effort, Lloyd’s fingers found the hilt of his bokken, where the practice sword was tucked under the lip of his bedframe. He pulled it from it’s hiding spot and got to work on his forms.

The glide of the wooden blade was slow, snapping as Lloyd reached the peak of each form. Every movement was fluid and practiced, the hilt held in a very trained hand. Every extra flourish was controlled, each simple turn of the blade made to look insurmountable in such a hand. His feet swept across the floor, before slowing and placing firm. His back remained straight, his knees bent—it wasn’t long before he’d forgotten all about the chill in the room and began to sweat.

Lloyd tried to force himself to get lost in the familiar routine of his blade forms, but he found it difficult this time around. He could hear his teacher berating him in his head already—distracted training makes for poor training and poorer performance. Even if he’d done this every morning for hundreds of days, he should still be able to focus as if he was practicing each move anew.

But he couldn’t, and it didn’t have anything to do with his strange dreams. It was everything else in his life—everything else that was happening too soon, too fast.

“Your Highness?”

A knock on his door startled him and he fumbled with his bokken. His face flushed as he imagined his teacher watching him almost drop his weapon like a fresh-faced imperial cadet. He’d never hear the end of it.

“Uh—” He cleared his throat, hurrying over to his bed to slip his bokken back into the hidden alcove beneath it. “Yeah, yes? I mean—I’m awake!”

The door opened and an elderly man swept into the room with a grace that didn’t match his age. Spectacles sat at the end of his hooked nose, looking a bit too modern to match the expensively-embroidered servant’s lapel over the top of a robe with very long sleeves. A short, white goatee sat on his chin.

The chamberlain—glorified castle babysitter, the previously mentioned teacher called him—wrinkled his nose as he looked down at Lloyd, still crouched by his bed. “Your Highness, what are you doing on the ground?”

“I…Uh…” Lloyd’s eyes shifted frantically. “…Thought I dropped something, but—ah! There it is.”

He laughed awkwardly, plucking a hair ornament off of his bedside table, raising it up as an explanation. Chamberlain Noble did not look convinced at all, but then again, he’d never been one to fall for Lloyd’s antics even as a child.

“Of course,” the man said dryly, folding his arms together. “Your Highness, I’ve come to inform you that the palace will be having a guest arrive for a luncheon later today. Your father is expecting you to entertain the Lady Harumi Kurogane for the length of the day following the kitchen’s prepared meal. You’ll be free of the responsibility after escorting her to dinner with your father tonight, where they will be discussing business.”

Lloyd frowned. “My father’s discussing business with…Lady Harumi? Who will be escorting Governor Kurogane and his wife?”

The chamberlain pursed his lips. “…No need to worry about that, Your Highness. Lady Harumi is your only concern, today. Your tutor has been notified that you will not be attending lesson so that you may prepare for her arrival. If you’d wash up, I will send in the servants in an hour’s time for you to dress.”

“…Okay, I guess.” Lloyd’s eyebrows pinched together. Chamberlain Noble wasn’t telling Lloyd something. Strange—he usually kept Lloyd informed of anything that went on in the palace.

The chamberlain bowed shallowly, hands still folded in front of him. “Good. Now, I have other preparations to attend to. Oh, and Your Highness—I thought you’d want to know. A summons was sent out to the Dune Sea by falcon early this morning.”

A summons from his father—the Dune Sea—

Lloyd’s eyes lit up. He tossed the hair ornament away. “Really? Is it an immediate summons?”

“It is,” Chamberlain Noble bowed his head, his frown softening. “He should be returning by tomorrow night.”

Lloyd barely held back a relieved cry of, Finally! It had only been a few months, but it felt like years had passed since such a summons had been sent.

“Thank you, chamberlain,” Lloyd bowed back, feeling giddy, with a stupid smile to match. “I’ll wash up right away.”

The elderly man left the room with as much grace as he’d arrived. Outside his door, Lloyd got a glimpse of his two hulking guards before it closed. He went to draw himself a steaming bath. The mechanical falcon was probably halfway to the Dune Sea already, along with the message it carried. That thought alone made him forget about whatever the chamberlain hadn’t been telling him.

He wrapped himself in a silky white under robe once he’d washed himself, finding himself in front of his mirror as he tried to detangle his wet hair. Even damp and slick, the blonde curls seemed to fight against him. He cursed as he tried to take a comb through it, knowing that his servants wouldn’t be as gentle, royal status be damned. The door opened as he did—Lloyd jumped, paling in the face at the thought of someone overhear his uncouth mouth. If the chamberlain heard he was swearing again, someone was going to get another tongue-lashing from him, and it wouldn’t be Lloyd.

He was manhandled into the hanfu of the day, this one of heavy black velvets and smooth purple accents. He was given a long, purple haori, laced with beautiful designs of silver. His sleeves, at least, were not as long as Chamberlain Noble’s. A belt of silver threads and grey silks was wrapped around his waist, ornaments of the Empire’s obsidian, tipped with raw diamond decorating his skirts.

One of the maids tilted his head back and went after his hair, showing him no mercy even as it dried. His face remained impassive, even as he winced at the amount of gel packed down to keep his hair under control. Curls much more artful than his natural shag were twirled by the maid. On a normal day, he’d be free of the helmet of styling gel, and his robes would have been much more breathable, but on days where he was presented to guests, military leaders, or even enemies, he was not allowed to appear as anything other than perfect.

He’d have hoped it wouldn’t have to be so when it came to the Kurogane family. After all, the Governor and his family had watched Lloyd grow up playing with their daughter. They had always been his father’s most loyal—that was the reason they held the highest position a civilian could in his father’s empire. Of all of the governors across the Empire of the Darkest Night, they required the least amount of intimidation, and certainly not from Lloyd. Yet, he was expected to play the part, pretending that he hadn’t stripped himself nude as a two-year-old and streaked through one of their meetings with his father.

Lloyd’s impassive face flushed at himself in the mirror. His chamberlain never let him forget that story when Lloyd thought himself as dignified.

“Look here, please, Your Highness,” one of his servants took his chin in hand and turned his face down. He let her, even when he wanted to sneeze with the sudden burst of makeup in his face.

Another servant tugged at his lengthy haori. “Lift this arm, please, Your Highness.”

“Now, Your Highness, please do not touch your hair before suppertime,” the maid behind him said, patting Lloyd’s shoulder. “You’re expected to remain with your father’s guest and no one will be able to give you a touch-up.”

“Yes, Jenn, thank you,” Lloyd said, exasperated.

The woman gave him a dry eyebrow raise in the mirror. Lloyd forced himself to remain straight-shouldered. Sure, yeah, okay, he may have a bad habit of running his hand through his hair at inopportune moments, causing some grief to his primping staff, but he knew better than to do that when with a governor’s daughter. He had taken plenty enough etiquette classes over the years.

Finally, the servants straightened his haori and dusted off his shoulders, stepping back to survey their hard work. Lloyd looked like, well…he sighed internally. With his angled jaw and soft nose lacking any visible blemishes, his hair perfectly pristine, his robes intricate and unwrinkled…he looked like a prince. But looking into his own bright red eyes, he couldn’t help but think it was obvious that underneath it all, he was just a boy, wearing the colors that his father loved to stamp over everything he owned.

To the second that he was finished, the door was knocked upon once more and opened to reveal yet another servant come to aid him. The three that had helped him dress bowed and complimented him in mumbles before being excused by the new servant that had stepped into the room.

This new servant was a boy, like Lloyd, that could be mistaken for a man. He was not an inch taller than Lloyd, which would not have been a difficult feat, with shaggy black hair that had been pulled back for the sake of professionalism, though not as royal as Lloyd’s had been. Grey eyes flashed above pale freckles as the other young man stepped close to Lloyd, narrowed eyes studying his makeup and making sure his hair was in order.

The servant nodded.

“Yep, they did it. You look like a ken doll.”

Lloyd scoffed, rolling his eyes. “It doesn’t get funnier the more you say it.”

“Says you, sure,” the servant said, a grin slowly appearing on his face. “Come on, I’m joking. You look great, obviously.”

Lloyd valiantly ignored the way the compliment sent heat to his cheeks after barely noticing the praise of the maids from before.

“Thanks, I guess. Not excited for the reason extra-dress was mandatory today, though.”

“Oh…right.”

Brad glanced away with a grimace, his face losing a shade behind his freckles. Lloyd’s friend clasped his hands together in front of him, a movement Lloyd recognized as a professional way to stop from picking at his fingers. Lloyd frowned.

He’d known Brad a long time. Like Harumi, Brad was only a little older than Lloyd, and unlike Harumi, he’d grown up in the palace alongside Lloyd since they’d been small. Born into the life of a servant, it seemed, after his father had worked in the palace. Because of that, it was easy to tell that something was wrong. Just like the chamberlain.

A frown tugged at Lloyd’s lips. “What? Do you know something? Why do I keep getting the feeling that something’s wrong?”

Brad worked his jaw, glancing at the doors. The large, double set of oak was sealed down the middle—not a crack open. On the other side were Lloyd’s two bodyguards, keeping any eavesdroppers far away, and they themselves had notoriously bad hearing.

Still, as long as they were in the palace, it could never be assumed that it was safe to talk freely for the servants. After all, the place was coated in his father’s inherit oni magic. There was no telling what he could or could not hear—not that Lloyd thought his father would ever be listening in on him. The man was busy, after all, running the entire world. And he respected Lloyd’s privacy, obviously.

Brad took a deep breath, glancing back at Lloyd, his voice hardly above a whisper. “The palace’s guest is going to be Lady Harumi, right?”

“Yeah, so?” Lloyd’s heart sunk. Of course it had something to do with her.

“There are rumors…” Brad threw one last futile glance at the door. “You should probably know before you’re thrown into the dragon’s den.”

“…If this is about Harumi being…difficult, then you don’t have to—”

“It’s not,” Brad cut him off. His faced whitened a little more and he stuttered to add, “Your Highness.”

Lloyd gave him a weird look, but Brad continued before he could comment on his strange anxiety.

“Governor Tenno Kurogane and his wife are dead. The rumor I heard most likely to be true is that they were poisoned last night and died in their own beds.”

Lloyd’s body physically recoiled in shock, arm pulling back further from Brad. He felt like he’d been shocked with an electrical charge, his heart jumping in his chest. “What? There’s—No, no way. You’re serious? They’re dead?”

“On my father’s ashes, it’s true. The city is in hysteria.”

“No wonder she’s been called to the palace,” Lloyd murmured. And why the summons went out. There was going to be a mess to clean up. “Do they have any suspects in custody?”

Brad shook his head. “No. Far as I can tell, the public out there is blaming the rebellion. The Empire hasn’t released any statements, yet.”

Yes, of course they were. The Empire’s propaganda was incredibly well integrated, so of course the only possible danger to it would be an outside force. In truth, the constant struggle for power and authority that Lloyd’s father encouraged within his own ranks was often wrought with bloodshed. It could have very well been some lucky rebel—but it could have just as easily been any of the governors or political enemies that had long sought Governor Kurogane’s high seat.

Lloyd’s father enjoyed…drama. After all, there was no need to worry about anyone plotting for the crown, when they were too busy plotting for the next-highest rank. Besides, his father said that the competition brought out the best in people. And by best, his father certainly meant the worst, most hideous parts of people.

Lloyd crossed his arms and put a hand over his mouth to think. Governor Kurogane had held his position since before Lloyd was born, for over thirty-five years. His death would no doubt shake the very foundations of the political hierarchy.

Lloyd, to his own surprise, even found himself feeling grief at the news of his death. Governor Kurogane had been a good man, hadn’t he? After all, he’d been so popular in Ninjago City, and with Lloyd’s father, and he’d given Lloyd treats as a child. He’d been almost like an uncle to Lloyd, despite their far between interactions.

“How am I supposed to face Harumi?” Lloyd said behind his hand, shell-shocked. “Knowing her parents were just murdered…What am I supposed to say?”

“…I don’t know,” Brad said. Then, far under his breath, “I’m not so sure she’ll be all that torn up about it, anyway.”

Lloyd whipped his head around with a glare that he usually would never level on a friend like Brad. “How could you say that? Just because she was adopted into the family doesn’t mean they didn’t love each other like they were blood.”

Brad’s eyes flickered over his face, then quickly away. He bowed his head, properly cowed, and Lloyd instantly felt bad. Who was he to speak to his best friend that way? Like he was just another servant?

Brad stepped back, saying, “Right, Your Highness. You’re right. Let’s go—I’m supposed to be escorting you to morning meal right now.”

Lloyd glanced at his reflection—loosening his tightened jaw—before gesturing for his friend to lead the way.

-

Outside his bedroom door, two grand sentries stood, where they had been stationed all night without so much as a twitch of the knee. They’d been chosen to guard Lloyd for just that purpose—they didn’t require rest, food, entertainment. Nor did they feel pain or boredom or cowardice. After all, warriors of the undead lacked any will of their own, the Emperor having complete domination over each and every one apart from the legendary Commander Samukai.

The two skulkin, nicknamed ‘bonemen’ by the general public, looked completely inanimate when immobile aside from the glowing blue orbs that floated within their eye sockets. These two specific skulkin had been granted the finest of plate armors, and each carried a dual-bladed battleaxe bigger than Lloyd’s entire body. Next to the two eight-foot-tall behemoths that constantly followed Lloyd around, Lloyd looked even shorter than his already short stature.

As soon as he stepped from his bedchamber and into the flickering light of the hallway, the two skulkin twitched and their joints creaked and groaned as they prepared their stiff bodies to move. Brad flinched at their sudden movement after being so absolutely still. Lloyd didn’t—he was used to Chopov and Nuchal’s horror-show existence.

He dutifully ignored them, striding passed with his head held high and every step as elegant as air. Brad hurried to keep up with him, throwing the two skulkin another nervous glance when they began to trail Lloyd. The groaning creak of bone against bone was enough to send shivers up anyone’s spine—especially when the heavy footsteps sounded ready to stomp over Lloyd any moment.

Then, there was the clack and grit of Chopov’s jaw as he communicated with Nuchal in the skulkin’s ominous language.

Lloyd tried his best to smile and nod at passing servants and staff on his way to breakfast, but their faces quickly lost all color as they bowed, then leapt out of the way and pressed themselves into the black stone walls to avoid collision with the careless giants following him. He detested these occasions—the ones where Chopov and Nuchal were assigned to him for lack of a suitable protector. It had begun to happen more and more until it was the unfortunate usual for him. It made Lloyd long for the simpler days, before his existence had been revealed to the public, before the old Captain of the Guard had been promoted to Commander of the Central Plains.

His day went along quietly leading up to the luncheon. Unbearably quiet. Quiet in the way that a room was quiet when everyone was holding their breaths. It seemed the rumors of the governor’s death had swept the palace through gossiping servants such as Brad and it was putting everyone on edge. Lloyd had a dreadful feeling that it was because of his father. Though Lloyd hadn’t seen him today, nor did he most days, he could feel the contemplative mood of the darkness that hugged the palace. The palace staff was waiting to feel that contemplation turn one way or the other.

If it took a turn for the worse, servants would have to begin walking on egg shells or else risk losing their lives to the ire of Lloyd’s father. Lloyd felt weary thinking about it.

Time went by far too quickly. Lloyd hadn’t even thought about what he was going to say to Harumi before he was herded to the Grand Hall to greet her.

The spiked doors were pulled open by two of the Imperial Guard—the steel-plate chested, very human, men with banners of violet denoting their importance. As it opened, the wind of the valley made the banners within the Grand Hall flutter—but the Lady Harumi Kurogane looked entirely untouched by any weather.

There was no doubt that Lady Harumi was a stunningly beautiful woman. She’d been a pretty girl and had certainly grown into her looks—with wide eyes, heart-shaped lips, and an upturned nose. Her snow white hair had been swept up behind her head, held in place by pins decorated with shining silver leaves. Her robes were jet black, lacking any embellishments or embroideries. A black veil covered the top half of her face, denoting a woman in mourning.

Lloyd smoothly stepped forward, his face falling against his better wishes. Despite the makeup and veil, he thought he could see the pain on her face, in the way she walked.

Harumi bowed deeply, hands pressed against her skirts. “Your Imperial Highness, I am humbled to stand before you. May I express my sincerest gratitude for your gracious hospitality.”

“Please, rise, Lady Harumi,” Lloyd said, a brief bow of his own head. “It is our pleasure to host you. Let me be the first in Shadowspire to give you my deepest condolences for your loss.”

She rose, now close enough for Lloyd to see straight through the mask of her veil. Behind it, her eyes were weak and full of sorrow. Lloyd’s heart broke for her. Had they been in private, he wouldn’t have hesitated to step forward and pull his old friend into a tight hug. They may have had their differences in the past, but anyone would deserve comfort after going through an ordeal such as she had. Lloyd couldn’t imagine what it must be like, for her to lose her father like that. If he were to ever lose his…

“Thank you, Your Highness,” she acknowledged, clasping her hands together, hiding them within the folds of her sleeves. “I’m honored to have the support of the Emperor and am comforted beyond words to be graced with your empathy. ”

“I hope your journey was made comfortable?”

“Yes, Your Highness. The servants of Shadowspire attended to my every need, though I admit that I am feeling a bit faint after all of the stress that my heart has endured.”

“Of course, I understand. We’ve prepared a banquet for you to regain your strength and rest your body. Please, allow me to escort you.”

Lloyd held his arm out. Pale, slender fingers slipped under his elbow and held with the gentlest of grips. Despite the loose hold, Lloyd could still feel Harumi’s sharp nails grazing his arm.

As he walked her down the corridor, he couldn’t help but think about how strange this was. Putting on the whole act of the Empire’s Prince in front of Harumi was always weird. After all, she’d tattled on him when they were kids for trying to put a whoopie cushion on his father’s chair in the war room. She’d tripped him when they played chase in the gardens and laughed at him for crying. Being two years older than him, he’d always followed her around, looking to her example, she’d been so cool for a ten-year-old, and it felt unnatural for their roles to be so reversed, even after all this time. The Harumi back then would have laughed cruelly at the idea of bowing so low to Lloyd.

But he supposed he wasn’t the only one who’d been forced to fit into the mold of their position. He would always be the prince and she would always be below him, even as the daughter of a governor. Well, after his eighteenth birthday, that was.

They left the imperial guards that had escorted Harumi, and those stationed in the Grand Hall. Only the skulkin remained, Brad trailing somewhere behind them. They had some semblance of privacy.

Lloyd quietly asked, “I am so sorry about what happened to your parents. It’s…It’s just horrible. How are you doing?”

“I…” She sighed as they walked. “I’m alright. Well, not alright, but…I’m managing. The threat was always there—with rebels around every corner, and the job my father had…It almost feels like it was inevitable. Like I’ve been waiting for the day to come for far too long.”

Her voice was so drawn, so sad—it was so unlike the Harumi that Lloyd remembered, so full of fire. He reached a hand up and squeezed the one she held his arm with. He hoped she could see the real grief in his eyes when she looked up at him.

“I’m here for you, ‘Rumi,” he promised. “You’re not alone in this. And whatever happens, I’ll make sure you’re taken care of, I swear it.”

She smiled sadly. “Thanks, Lloyd. It really does mean a lot. Not a lot of people…I don’t have many friends these days. But…there was more going on then you know.”

They reached the Dining Hall. Two servants were already waiting for them and they swung the doors open as Lloyd and Harumi stepped forward. The smell of the food within was often mouth-watering, but today, the smell made Lloyd’s stomach curdle. His appetite was a finicky thing, especially when death was on his mind.

He lead Harumi to the head of the table and she sat to the right of it, where a place had been set for her. Lloyd sat across from her—the head of the table reserved for none but the Emperor, when his father decided to grace the Dining Hall with his presence—which was rare, to put it kindly.

“What do you mean?” Lloyd asked as servants began to serve their plates and fill their silver goblets. “What do I not know?”

Harumi reached up and gracefully flipped her veil back, revealing her stormy eyes. Lloyd felt another pang in his chest—she really was beautiful.

“My parents…”

Lloyd quietly thanked the servants for dishing food onto his plate. Harumi ignored them completely, picking up her goblet and sipping daintily at the wine that had been poured. Her voice suddenly hardened.

“…were traitors. They’d been helping the rebellion for months—maybe years.”

Lloyd was lucky he hadn’t been taking a drink, yet, the goblet halfway to his mouth—because he choked at Harumi’s words.

“What?” He hadn’t meant for his tone to sound so incredulous, but how could he help it? The Kuroganes? Rebels? There mere thought was so ridiculous, Lloyd almost laughed at a grieving young woman. But her serious expression dried up any humor in him. “You’re—I’m sorry, my lady, but you can’t be…”

You can’t be serious. Lloyd couldn’t even finish saying it. What kind of grieving daughter would slander her parents like that after their death just for the heck of it? There was no way it could be true—the Kuroganes would have done anything for Lloyd’s father. Lloyd was sure of it because someone Lloyd trusted very much was utterly sure of it, and he was never wrong about these kind of things.

But looking into Harumi’s face, there was no doubt that she believed it. Beside the grief and the sadness, there was a righteous anger and betrayal that held no doubt.

“It’s true,” Harumi told him firmly. “I have evidence. Lloyd, I loved my parents more than anything, you know that—but what they did…trying to poison our great Empire…it was unforgivable. I would have never wished for this, but I can’t help but think…maybe the universe was punishing them for what they’d done.”

Lloyd stared at her, then took a long drink of wine. Huh. Karma. Sure.

“That’s…I don’t even know what to say,” Lloyd told her dumbly. “That’s just horrible. I’m so sorry that you’ve gotten caught up in this.”

A shot of fear made his heart tremble in his chest.

His father had called Harumi for a meeting after her parents had betrayed him to the rebellion? If this was true, which Lloyd still wasn’t sure he believed…then Lloyd had a terrifying feeling that his friend was not going to come out of his father’s War Room alive. There was nothing more legendary in all of the Realm than his father’s bottomless rage in the face of betrayal. Lloyd was so afraid that through Harumi, he would seek some sort of retribution, seeing as her parents were already dead.

His father’s infamous live executions were a testament to his need to satiate his anger with blood.

If this were the case, Lloyd knew that he wouldn’t be able to stop it. Was this meal to fatten up the calf before her death? Some last mercy of his father’s?

Whatever ability he’d had to chew and swallow before drained out of him. He drank more of his wine as Harumi cut her stake across from him.

“I’d like if we didn’t talk about this anymore,” Harumi said quietly. “What about you, Your Highness? How have you been?”

“Me?” Lloyd echoed hollowly. “I…I’ve been fine. Nothing out of the ordinary has happened for a while.”

“Really? Because I heard the palace had a scare not a week ago.”

Lloyd didn’t freeze purely because of his training, both physical and social. He instead hid his brief hesitation behind his goblet. A week ago…that incident had been kept under very tight wraps, per his father’s orders. Though it had been far from the first assassin sent after him, it had gotten far too close for comfort and had known the palace all too well.

It didn’t bode well that the news of it had reached Harumi.

“Yes, well, as you can see—” Lloyd hooked a thumb over his shoulder, where the hulking skeleton guard hovered on the inside of the doorway. “—I am fairly safe wherever I go. Besides, I was never in the same room as the threat—they didn’t get near close enough before it was handled.”

“I’m glad you’re okay. It’s bad luck that it happened while your usual…security is out of town.”

“Yeah, well…” Lloyd picked at his food. “The Shogun has more responsibilities than just me, these days.”

“I’m sure he’ll be returning soon, won’t he?” Harumi leaned forward. “After all, you’ve got quite the celebration to prepare for at the end of the month.”

He looked away, scratching at his hair only to be met with solidified curls under hardened gel. He quickly pulled his hand down, as if Jenn was going to jump out of the shadows and give him her stink-eye. Right.

“Yeah, I guess,” he sighed. “It’s just another birthday.”

“Yours is the only eighteenth birthday in Ninjago that will be immediately followed by a coronation ceremony, Your Highness,” she teased softly. “You can’t tell me it hasn’t been on your mind.”

“Alright, I won’t tell you, then.”

She laughed a little, and sure, it was short and quiet, but it was there. His heart felt a little lighter hearing it—even if his soul felt heavy with the exact thing she’d been talking about. The thing that he’d been trying to avoid thinking about to spare himself the stress.

The coronation. The day he will officially go from being the Emperor’s son to the Crown Prince—the next in line to take the throne of the world. It was only a formality, likely being made into a large celebration to give the Empire a day to cheer and drink together and be happy for the future of all. But the idea of it filled Lloyd with dread. The idea of the entire Empire was so heavy. It was a burden Lloyd had always been aware of, but never something he could truly know. After all, since the day he’d been born, the only small piece of Ninjago that Lloyd had ever been allowed to see was everything within the Veils. He’d never even stepped a foot through the crack. Sure, he could see some of the shiny buildings from behind it, and he got to catch a glimpse of the sun every hour before it set, but that was all.

How could he dare inherit a world that he didn’t know? How could he claim that he had any right, that he had the knowledge and wisdom necessary, when he was stuck in this black-walled palace twenty four hours a day, going on eighteen years?

It made him feel sick to think about. Ninjago deserved better than that—or, from what Lloyd knew of Ninjago, he imagined it did.

But what came out of his mouth was, “I’ve been preparing for that day my whole life. I guess that means I’ve got to be ready for it by now, right?”

“I don’t know.” Harumi’s eyes were kind and sympathetic. “Do you feel ready?”

Lloyd glanced around. It was just them, the skulkin, and Brad with his hands folded in front of him, waiting for any needs they may have. Brad looked like he was zoned out, his feet shifting uncomfortably after standing there for so long. But Lloyd felt safe talking in front of him and Harumi.

“…No,” Lloyd said. “I don’t. I feel like I’m going to let everyone down. What do you think, ‘Rumi? You know what the world out there is like. Do you…Do you think…?”

He sighed.

“Forget it.”

A foot tapped the toe of his dress boots lightly. Lloyd looked up. Harumi smiled at him, gentle. “I think, when the day comes, Ninjago will love the person that puts on that crown.”

Lloyd smiled back. “Thanks. That means a lot, coming from you. Sorry to lay all this on you after…”

“Hey, none of that, Your Highness. You listened to me, so of course I’ll listen to you. What else are friends for?”

-

Lloyd’s walk about the palace with Harumi felt like a death march.

He wasn’t sure if she could feel the tension in the air, the simmering anger in the energy of the palace, but he sure could. If she could, she did a fantastic job hiding it. She seemed perfectly fine, content even, holding onto Lloyd’s arm as they surveyed the gardens. Sure, there was a sadness about her, but nothing screamed ‘I know I’m about to die!’

Lloyd swallowed down his vomit when their time together came to and end and he was to escort the Lady back through the palace to leave her to his father. He clasped his arms together so that she wouldn’t feel the tremble going through them, but he wondered if she could anyway, their hands pressed together on his arm and all.

He hated this.

He hated that he knew he could do nothing. He hated even more that he knew it was coming and was just as helpless as he would be if he had no idea. Unfortunately, he had a very good idea. He’d seen what his father could do, as much as his father had tried to keep his governing separate from his relationship with Lloyd. Lloyd knew that most of the time, it was justified—after all, it was his father. He knew his father maybe wasn’t a good person—but he wasn’t a monster. He just had a tough job and he loved Lloyd, and anyone who could love Lloyd as much as his father did couldn’t be a monster. It was Lloyd’s own fault when he forced his father’s hand around him. His father just did what he had to do.

Lloyd desperately wished that hurting Harumi was not something his father had to do. She was one of Lloyd’s only real friends—one of the only other people in the world that cared about him. The thought of losing her tore at him, it was all he could think about, even as she was holding onto him and speaking in that gentle voice of hers. It was like he was holding onto a dead woman walking.

In the end, it would be up to his father. That’s where the final judgement always fell, and where Lloyd would always accept it from. After all, even if Lloyd couldn’t understand, his father was always right. He’d seen the world and conquered it—how could he ever be wrong?

“It was—It was good talking to you, ‘Rumi,” Lloyd told her, squeezing her hand tight as they stood before the doors to the throne room. “I really enjoy spending time with you. I hope…I really hope that the next life is kinder to you. To us all. You didn’t deserve any of this.”

He tried to ignore the burn in his eyes as he looked at her beautiful face, trying to commit it to memory.

She just smiled. It was a knowing smile—but there was no fear. She patted his hand. “Thank you, Your Highness. I like spending time with you, too. Maybe we should do it more often.”

He nodded. First Master, his eyes were burning so bad. He desperately blinked back his tears.

The black doorway groaned as the imperial guards began to open it.

Lloyd quickly hugged Harumi. She startled, but melted into the embrace and squeezed him back. When they pulled away, her hand trailed on his and squeezed his fingers, giving him one last smile before she pressed a sweet kiss on his cheek.

Then, she walked with all the confidence in the world, and the heavy doors closed behind her.

Lloyd, left behind, felt colder than he’d ever been.

He touched his cheek, where her lips had been, and clenched his jaw—to ensure that he didn’t make a noise as he began to cry.

A hand touched his elbow. He flinched—he hadn’t even processed the way he’d frozen on the spot, staring at the door where he’d sent Harumi to his father, to her death. But it had been the right thing. Whatever his father wanted was the right thing, the thing that he was supposed to do. Even when it made him feel sick to his stomach with grief and desperation.

“People’s lives, every single one of them, are so valuable, Lloyd. It doesn’t matter where they come from, what they’ve done, who they are. Life…Life is so precious. You have to remember that.”

“I think my father would say otherwise.”

“Hey, look at me. You’re not him. You just aren’t. You have to see beyond his eyes. Look at the world with your own and you’ll see that strength, power, they don’t make you strong. It’s not hard to hurt people. You know what’s really hard? Being kind to someone, even when you think they don’t deserve it.”

“If it’s hard, why would anyone do it? Especially when someone doesn’t deserve it.”

“Because…Because there’s goodness in this world. And if you could just see it…you’d realize that it’s worth fighting for.”

“But…what if I can’t? I think…I think I’m already bad. I think I already hurt people.”

“You are a lot of things, kid, but you are not evil. Trust me, I know what that looks like. And…even if you were…I don’t think it’s ever too late to change.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Brad nudged him until his feet began to move. Lloyd walked back towards his bedchamber, Chopov and Nuchal clamoring after him. Brad was saying reassuring words, speaking gently, like Lloyd would break apart, but it didn’t help. Nothing would. The guilt in Lloyd’s heart was too heavy. He had done nothing.

Even now, he felt that he could do nothing. Nothing was up to him. Nothing was his choice.

More than any time he had made the wish before, he prayed to the First Spinjitsu Master to allow him to sprout wings and fly far, far away from this place.

-

He woke up shaking and gasping between sweaty sheets the next morning.

The moment his eyes shot open, he rolled on his side, clutching his chest and pinching the bridge of his nose as he desperately attempted to get his breathing under control. He curled his knees up tightly to himself. The violent imagination of Harumi’s neck cracking filled his ears, the sight of blood welling up in her eyes and slipping down her white cheeks making him gag. There was a trickle of fear, there—at the sight of his father standing, four hands twisting and twisting at her neck until the skin began to separate and muscle pulled apart—

Lloyd squeezed his eyes shut and breathed. His bedchamber was so quiet other than the pathetic sounds of his own panic. He latched onto the silence, as he would during meditation, and tried to employ the breathing exercises he’d been taught.

After a few minutes, he managed to banish the images of the nightmare from his mind. He rolled onto his back, slumping properly on his sheets. He could only stare at the curtains hanging above him as grief filled him, beginning at his feet and climbing his body, until it felt entirely numb. Lady Harumi…Had that been how she had died? Or had his father been merciful on her and simply cut her head? Or perhaps she wasn’t even dead yet and his father was waiting to put her on proper execution today for her family’s betrayal.

He should have tried to stop it—tried to defend her. But his father had never listened to him before, why would he now? Lloyd had been warned by him and the Shogun both to never get too attached to anyone within the court—they could, after all, be snuffed out at any moment within the lethal political landscape or his father’s own ire. It was his own fault that his heart felt so heavy with sorrow.

He just couldn’t understand, even after all this time, how his father could love Lloyd so much, protect him so fiercely, and extend none of that loyalty to any of his dedicated subjects. It was just…how it would always be.

When his alarm clock went off, all Lloyd wanted to do was hold his own pillow to his face until he passed out again. Instead, he rolled off of his bed and lost himself to his martial arts forms.

He’d barely dressed after his steaming bath of the day before Jenn and his dressing servants barged in yet again. He almost groaned aloud at them, but didn’t dare complain in reality. He wasn’t surprised extra dress was going to be required of him today—he’d likely appear on television with whatever statement was made in response to the governor’s death. In addition to that, a return of one of the three Commander of the Armies was treated with some fanfare within Shadowspire, complete with a greeting from all of the troops and trainees from the barracks, a salute from the Imperial Guard, and the eyes any palace staff available. Lloyd would be expected to attend, presenting his best, to represent his father.

That thought soothed some of Lloyd’s downcast expressions, but he could tell even Jenn was concerned by her pursed lips. He quietly thanked them when they were finished, their praise at his good looks falling on deaf ears.

When Brad arrived to escort him, he was far too chipper for Lloyd’s liking.

“Good morning, You Highness!” He smiled too wide, flitted around too lightly. Brad, too, was dressed in his nicest servants clothes, as he’d be involved in greeting of the Commander—a much more scrutinized task than aiding in escorting an ex-governor’s daughter. “How did you sleep last night?”

Lloyd glowered at him. His voice sounded tired to his own ears. “Could have been better.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

You don’t sound very sorry, Lloyd thought bitterly, watching Brad hurry to collect his laundry into a basket.

He had a feeling Brad’s good mood coincided with Lloyd’s poor one for a reason. Harumi had been…raised in wealth, like Lloyd, but unlike Lloyd, she hadn’t been taught the value of those working below her and the respect they deserved. Even when they’d been children, and Lloyd had played with Brad below the buffet tables, she had been unnecessarily…rough on him, not understanding the nuances of loyalty. Perhaps they had never been on friendly terms at all, but Lloyd still felt a flash of hurt that Brad was treating her loss so lightly.

Lloyd remained tight-lipped toward Brad as he was escorted to morning meal, the crack of bones following them through the hallways.

The door was open for him by two of the kitchen staff—also wearing their finest serving robes—and shock floored him.

“Lady Harumi?!” He gasped.

The young woman quickly stood from her chair, a smile playing at her lips, and bowed at his presence. “Good morning, my prince.”

Brad was badly hiding a cheeky, knowing smile.

Lloyd quickly stepped forward into the room, wanting nothing more than to rush up to her and check her over, but wary of the eyes of the guard and servants in the room.

He stuttered to retain his professionalism. “You—You look exquisite today, my lady.”

You look alive! He thought privately, unable to pick his jaw up off the floor.

He had lost the garbs of mourning, her hanfu in dark colors with a high-waisted skirt, the wrap on her chest lined with a purple decorated in silver phoenix designs. Her hair had been pulled up yet again, perfect bangs framing her face, uncovered by any veil. Her lips were bright red. The sheer white shawl that draped down her skirts made her look like she was glowing—ethereal.

“Thank you, Your Highness.” She curtsied at the compliment. “You look absolutely stunning yourself—none other could compare to the prince of our great empire. Would the prince be gracious in allowing me to dine with him?”

Lloyd blinked. The dining table was even fuller than it had been yesterday—light streamed in through the windows on the north side, facing the garden. It was an unnaturally bright day in Shadowspire, which meant it must be beautiful out in Ninjago.

“Of course,” he waved his hand in permission. “Of course, please, join me.”

Lloyd couldn’t stop staring across the table, even after Harumi began to eat, even her chewing refined, as a governor’s daughter should be.

He struggled to form a way to ask the question he so wanted to, wary of the audience they had this day. If only the servants were not feeling so anxious about the greeting ceremony, perhaps they would not feel the need to be waiting on them so hand and foot. Harumi, at least, seemed to be enjoying the extra attention from them—one even offered her a foot rub.

“Lady Harumi,” Lloyd started, then stopped. She glanced up at him, innocence shining in her eyes. “…If I may, what did you discuss with my father last night?”

I didn’t expect to ever see you again, he didn’t add.

Her lips twitched up and Lloyd thought he saw something in her eyes that reminded him of her mischievousness that bordered on chaos that she’d had when they were younger.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness, but I must ask that the Emperor and I’s discussion remain private.” She bowed her head. “But know that he and I reached a very pleasant understanding.”

A pleasant understanding with Lloyd’s father? Was she perhaps referring to another Emperor of the Empire of the Darkest Night? He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t breathe of word of his doubt. He was too busy being relieved.

“That’s…great to hear. I’m glad it all worked out. Has my father invited you to stay at the palace for the time being?”

“Until the Assembly of Governors that he has called in two day’s time.” Harumi’s eyes sparkled with humor. “I’m sure the governors of the furthest regions have forgotten their breaches in their rush to arrive before the meeting.”

Lloyd laughed and it was a laugh not weighed down by any burden. He let himself grin, he let himself joke back, he let his shoulders relax—his friend was alive and on good terms with his father! The Commander of the Central Plains was returning today! He’d be eighteen in a month, and despite the stress of his crowning, that meant he would finally be free to see the world!

Even with the sad loss of the Kuroganes at the back of his mind, his heart couldn’t help but feel lighter. It seemed, even in this unsure time, things might be looking up for him. It was quite the aggressive comparison to how he’d been feeling just this morning.

At one point during the meal, one of the kitchen servants scurried over and whispered something into Brad’s ear, who stood sentry the same way he had the day before. Brad nodded, whispering something back, and the kitchen servant bowed her head before hurrying back through the servant’s passage.

Brad stepped forward, leaning down to speak quietly for Lloyd and Lloyd alone. “Your Highness, they’re expecting the Commander’s arrival before noontime. The troops of the training ground and the Imperial Guard are already preparing their garrisons. Word from the training ground says that Governors Hikaru and Aiko have already reached Shadowspire, along with two men requesting an audience with the Emperor before the assembly. They should reach the palace shortly.”

Lloyd was mid-nod, preparing to thank his friend for keeping him updated on events on a day like this, when Harumi abruptly scowled across the table.

“We are in conversation, you knave. You dare interrupt the Prince and his guest? Know your place.”

Brad bowed his head, but Lloyd could see his fists ball at his sides.

“He was just keeping me informed,” Lloyd frowned at Harumi, confused. Had something else upset her and she was misplacing her anger? “It’s Brad.”

He said it like it was an explanation—because it should have been. It was the same Brad that he and Harumi that had played hide-and-seek with while their parents had worked away in their offices and grand rooms. Perhaps she didn’t recognize him.

But her apologetic eyes were only for Lloyd, not for Brad. “Oh, I apologize, Your Highness, I hadn’t realized he was on orders to relay the news to you. I humbly request your forgiveness for my misjudgment and I assure you it will not happen again.”

“…Sure,” Lloyd said awkwardly. “I mean, of course, I forgive you.”

He tried to glance over to meet Brad’s eye, but his friend’s head remained bowed as he stepped back away from the table.

Thankfully, the news gave him an excuse to finish off his meal and excuse himself rather quickly. He didn’t like feeling caught between a rock and a hard place—and upsetting either one of his friends in order to defend the other was certainly that sort of place. He left Lady Harumi to finish her meal, but she stood to bow to him briefly.

In the hall, Brad muttered Lloyd’s way. “I’m happy your friend is okay and all, but she is a piece of work.”

“She was raised differently, is all. It’s hard for her to understand.” Lloyd sighed through his nose.

“This is a strange world for the Prince of the Realm to be more humble than some politician’s daughter.”

Lloyd didn’t dispute him, just shrugged helplessly.

Dry clacking, followed by a squeaking groan of friction had Lloyd wincing and turning a stink-eye back at Chopov and Nuchal. Both loomed over him, but their jaws were opening and closing, then shifting side to side at each other. Their glowing blue eyes flickered, like floating spots of flame.

“What?” Lloyd asked, tired of their ominous speech. “What’re you guys talking about?”

Chopov, with more silver teeth and boney spikes protruding in a line from the front of his skull, clicked his teeth, then grunted hollowly, “Orders.”

Their voices echoed through their skulls. Nuchal, a piece of his cheekbone missing below his steel helm, added, “Commander returns.”

“…Uh-huh. Right. Let’s…go greet those two citizens.”

“Yeah, sounds good to me, Your Highness.” Brad hastily agreed, eyeing the skeletons.

Lloyd tried not to let his spine crawl at the mechanical footsteps of the skulkin marching after them. Lloyd tried not to give into hate often, but he did not like the way that skulkin voices sounded. It was like nails on a chalkboard with the way it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. It was a mercy that they could only speak a word or two at a time—he wasn’t sure his weak heart could handle an entire sentence of words gritted so hard they were painful to listen to.

It wasn’t the skulkin’s fault. After all they’d been raised for one thing—to follow orders into battle. They didn’t have brains of their own or the ability to read social cues. It was no wonder his father had stationed the Bone Army as far from Ninjago City as possible. Well, that, and the fact that Samukai, the only other being with sway over them, had the ability to create plans of his own.

The citizens that had requested an audience with Lloyd’s father were not just any citizens. Whereas the two governors that had rushed to heed his father’s call had already been lead to the estate rooms by the Imperial Guard, Lloyd stepped into the courtyard beyond the grand hall to find Cyrus Borg and Harish Julien waiting patiently on the dark cobblestone.

Brad coughed into his fist beside Lloyd, unable to contain his shock. Both of the men seemed startled by the two skulkin who barged through the grand doors after Lloyd, giants that dwarfed them all and stunk of violence.

Lloyd quickly smiled in greeting to lessen the blow. “Doctor Borg, Doctor Julien. What an honor it is to be acquainted with you.”

“The honor is all ours, Your Imperial Highness, truly. We are gracious beyond words to be greeted by the prince himself,” Dr. Borg replied for them.

Both men bowed. Well, Dr. Julien bowed low, in a smart, modern suit with a bowtie and a heavy trench coat to battle the chill of Shadowspire. He looked like quite the wizened old man, with uneven spectacles and thick white hair, pulled back with a heavy amount of gel.

Dr. Borg, confined to a hoverchair with a blanket over his legs, gave a shallow bow, but Lloyd saw no disrespect in it. The man also had an expensive suit on, along with a black haori that matched his silk tie. The man had glasses on, but his were modern frames, and though he was younger, likely in his forties, there was grey at the roots of his hair where a dye job was revealing itself.

“Please, rise,” Lloyd permitted. Both men did so. “And who would this young woman be?”

Behind Dr. Borg, what appeared to be an assistant with a grey suit on under a magenta-colored haori stood ready to aid. Her haori was beautiful—covered with a scene of flowers and singing birds. Lloyd was transfixed by it—there were few decorations of such hope within Shadowspire. But another reason for his distraction—the woman was very clearly an robot, with steel skin and synthetic grey curls.

A spinning circle of yellow light denoted her mechanical nature on each of her temples.

“This is Pixal, my android assistant,” Dr. Borg explained, gesturing towards her. “I sincerely apologize if her lack of greeting caused you any offense. Pixal, please show your respect to Prince Lloyd.”

The android nodded her head and stepped passed his hoverchair, bowing at a sharp ninety degree angle. Lloyd tried not to flinch at her aggressively quick movements.

“It is a pleasure to be in your company, Prince Lloyd, Son of the Emperor.”

“Of…Of course. Rise, my friend.”

She stood, folding her hands in front of her and taking her place by Dr. Borg’s side. Lloyd felt transfixed by her—he’d never seen a robot in person before, he’d only heard about them through the holoscreens he was approved to watch the news through. She moved so human-like, but her expression was so empty. It made him…sad. He dimly wondered if she was aware of her lack of autonomy.

“I have heard many things about you two gentlemen and your excellent work at Borg Technologies,” Lloyd asked, folding his hands together in his sleeves. “Ninjago City and the lives of it’s people have been much improved by the revolutionary technology of your company. What would two of the most famous men in Ninjago have to discuss with the Emperor today?”

The two doctors shared a look right in front of Lloyd.

Dr. Julien was the one to speak this time, his tone apologetic and his eyes humble. "Your Highness, we have sought an audience with His Majesty to discuss some pressing matters concerning the welfare of the realm."

Ah, vague. Political, no doubt.

"I see. I’m sorry about your long journey, but His Majesty is currently otherwise occupied. As you may have heard, the Empire was struck with quite a tragedy yesterday. If you’d like to give your concerns to me, I’d be happy to relay them to my father."

“Please, Your Highness, these matters cannot wait,” Dr. Borg said, urgency leading his hoverchair to inch forward as he leaned towards Lloyd. “This could affect the stability of the Empire.”

Lloyd wanted to grab the man by the shoulders and shake him. Can’t you see I’m trying to save your sorry hides?!

But the desperately pressing look on Dr. Borg’s face, and the clear concern in Dr. Julien’s downturned eyebrows told Lloyd that these two men were not going to quit so easily.

Lloyd couldn’t tell if they were stupid or brave. These two men, and Borg Technologies by extension, had been on a rebel watchlist for years, now, ever since the Shogun had begun his crusade in seriously uprooting the efforts against the Empire. Either they were unaware of this, which Lloyd doubted, or their concerns were enough for them to risk their own lives by their suspicious appearance in Shadowspire a mere day after the death of the most powerful governor in the land.

Lloyd exhaled, tilting his head towards Brad. “Alright. He will be informed right away, but I can’t guarantee he will see you. Are you sure you’d like to do this?”

“Yes,” Dr. Borg said firmly, ignoring Lloyd’s final offer of mercy. “Please, Your Highness.”

Brad nodded at Lloyd’s silent flick of the wrist and disappeared into the palace to relay the message.

“Join me,” Lloyd asked, gesturing toward the Grand Hall. “I am curious about the affairs of the city and I’m sure you would all like some rest after the trek up.”

The men bowed their heads and murmured their thanks again, following Lloyd. Two imperial guards opened the doors for them—both doctors paled and hurried faster when they were forced to step between Chopov and Nuchal’s burning gazes and massive battleaxes.

Dr. Julien, who seemed a bit less stressed than the sweating Dr. Borg, was happy to gush about his android technology the moment Lloyd admitted to this being his first meeting with one. He was very proud and the love that sparked in his eye when he spoke about his first robot coming online was like the love of a father towards his son.

“It was the greatest day in my career—no, my life,” Dr. Julien corrected, gesturing adamantly. His smile was warm and genuine. “I still believe that I have never quite met the feat that I created that day. Nothing will ever compare. Except for, perhaps, Pixal, here. She was my second design, and the first that we created together.”

Dr. Borg smiled tightly. “Yes, it was…exhilarating to meet a mind as genius as Dr. Julien’s. When we founded Borg Technologies together, we thought it was going to propel Ninjago into the next era.”

“I still believe it will,” Dr. Julien said, patting Dr. Borg’s arm. “And I know you still believe in it as well, my old friend.”

“Ah…yes, of course,” Dr. Borg mumbled.

“That’s really cool,” Lloyd said, grinning at the outpour of information he did not usually have access to. He quickly caught himself from his excitement. “I mean—It’s very impressive, what you’ve both done. And it’s fortunate that you were able to find such a good friend in each other.”

Dr. Julien nodded and smiled. Dr. Borg looked like a man on death row. Perhaps brave was the explanation, then—because Dr. Borg, at least, seemed completely aware of what them being in the palace meant. Lloyd felt bad for the man. They both seemed kind and genuine—more so than most of the politicians Lloyd spoke to.

Eventually, Brad returned to the Grand Hall, one of his father’s personal servants beside him. Both of them bowed toward the two men, the latter speaking in a monotone.

“The Emperor will receive you, now.”

Pixal stood along with Dr. Julien.

Dr. Julien reached down to grab Lloyd’s hand, bringing it up only to pat it in a grandfatherly-fashion.

His smile was knowing behind his spectacles. “You are more than what they say you are, Prince Lloyd. Thank you for being kind to two old men.”

“…Good luck with your council,” Lloyd managed to say.

His mouth felt dry watching them be lead toward the throne room. Brad sidled up to him.

“What’d they want?” Brad asked quietly, eyes flickering towards the imperial guards.

“No idea,” Lloyd muttered back.

“Think the Emperor will let them live?”

Lloyd thought. “…No idea.”

“Figures.”

Lloyd, despite having only just met the men, hoped his father’s merciful mood continued for their sakes.

-

The garrisons on the lower level were made up of fifteen thousand soldiers. Less than a half of them made up the training portion of the established base, the other half being the best and brightest of the Empire’s human forces. Because of the way the Pass in the Veil spilled out directly into Ninjago City, the garrison housed below doubled as the greatest of honored training grounds, as well as an intimidation tactic to the city beyond. Ninjago City was large and sprawling, surrounded by and infested with Empire bases, but the threat of fifteen thousand of the most dangerous men the Empire hosted marching into the streets of the Capital Region kept many of the aristocrats in check. After all, the Capital Region was the most advanced, housed the most money, and the most political power a civilian could hold in Garmadon’s militarized empire. Governor Kurogane had once held that seat, along with Ninjago’s most powerful region, in the palm of his hand, kept tightly controlled.

Five other regions split the city by a grid. The city was so large, it would take dozens and dozens of miles to ever reach the outskirts. On those outskirts, further villages and towns clung to the edges of main civilization, becoming less and less common the further one got from the city. Instead, towers and coffee shops were replaced with farmlands. And the labor camps. But it took far fewer forces of the Empire to keep those areas under control, unlike Ninjago City itself. Wherein lay the reasoning for the largest division of the Empire’s soldiers to be based on the lower level of Shadowspire. That and, of course, the fact that the host could protect the palace in any times of crisis.

And ‘protect the palace’ of course meant ‘protect Prince Lloyd’ because the Emperor cared about one thing in the entire Realm and a sprawling palace and the grounds surrounding did not inspire love from him.

Lloyd knew all of this and he certainly was aware of just how large the base below his home was. After all, when he wandered beyond the Black Gates under watchful eyes, he could see the town-like military base spread out below him across many acres of land.

It was different to see the entire force amassed, standing in perfectly straight grids, every gaze unmoving, every uniform and armor piece pristine, every flag raised, every spot along the path up the hills filled by an endless honor guard of every rank of soldier. Each platoon was marked by new flags, all of them featuring the dark phoenix of the Emperor. The Black Gates were flung open, revealing all of this to Lloyd from the courtyard before the palace.

The courtyard itself was wide enough to house a village of it’s own, a massive flaming pit in the center of it casting the area in purple light. Above them, around the valley but below the blanket of the veil, electrical floating lights turned the entire valley into a morning unchanged but for the streak of light that split the veil through the crack.

The courtyard was filled with the Imperial Guard, shoulder to shoulder, their banners fluttering, their faces hidden by skeleton-like silver helms. Captain Hutchins of the Guard stood to the right of Lloyd, his hands snapped behind his back, a greyed beard and an eyepatch on his weathered face making quite the contrast to Lloyd’s youth and elegant dress. The Lord Chamberlain stood by the Captain’s side.

Lady Harumi, along with the two governors that had already arrived stood behind and to Lloyd’s left, each of them in their best traditional clothes, the colors of the Empire blanketing them. Dr. Borg and Dr. Julien, who had emerged from their meeting with defeat, had been placed alongside them. The palace servants were lined up behind the safe wall of the Imperial Guard, filling every corner of the courtyard.

Lloyd hadn’t been standing there long before a distant hum reached his ears. His face remained a mask of professionalism.

The Imperial Guard and the garrisons that lined the fortress walls before the Black Gates, remained steadfast, their eyes glued forward. Lloyd, the politicians, the doctors, and the servants were not bound by the same expectation and eyes began to look to the skies, scanning back and forth.

Thump…Thump…Thump…THUMP…THUMP…

The steady rhythm got louder and louder until it began to shake the very ground. Coming from the break in the mountains, above them and steadily approaching, a massive figure commanded the sky. The closer it got, the more obvious the shape of it became. Four legs the size of trucks swung heavy beneath a long body, covered in shimmering golden-red scales. Spiked protrusions were a richer red than blood, traveling down it’s nimble, powerful body. A head full of teeth akin to that of the Emperor’s crown, and curling horns weaved between escaping smoke from the beast’s nostrils. A flesh and blood dragon in Shadowspire.

Gasps echoed from the servants that had come to work at the palace within the last few months. There were unsteady feet, shifting nervousness.

The red dragon roared and that roar shook the foundations of the palace as it began to circle above it. Every enormous flap of it’s wings blew a strong current throughout the courtyard, ripping at banners and pulling at flags. Servants and politicians alike held down their flapping fabrics. Lloyd barely noticed, too enraptured by the beauty of the beast. The heat of the wind was a violent different to the chill of Shadowspire—it was like a small sun had arrived, gracing them all with the mercy of spring.

The dragon circled once, twice, before being carefully controlled in its decent. Closer, the metal armor on the head of the dragon became more obvious and created a more horrifying picture for any that would have the misfortune to be the beast’s enemy.

The dragon touched it’s feet down, causing servants and guards to stumble at the quake of the earth. It ROARED a final time, releasing boiling winds from it’s maw and blowing Lloyd’s skirts back, only the length of two men in front of him. The heavy presence of the dragon was beyond a stone held on one’s shoulders.

The dragon bowed its massive head after its landing, revealing the figure encased in black metal and leather that rode atop its arched neck.

The figure stood, leaping more than fifteen feet from the ground, and landing with a shudder, an aftershock to the quake the dragon had begun due to the weight of the armor. When the figure stood to his full height, there was not a word but terrifying that could be used to describe it. The armor was large, the design of it lined with unnecessarily sharp curves and edges only there to inspire fear. The helm was topped with curved horns, sharp and menacing, the mask over the face molded into the barred teeth of an oni. Even with the dragon present, already emitting a deep heat that was borderline suffocating, the power radiating off the figure was undeniable.

On his back, a sword that was much too long and should have been much to heavy for any man to wield presented a challenge to any fool. The red accents along the edges of the mat, void black made it look like it had already been soaked and stained in blood.

There was a sharp call from Captain Hutchins and the entirety of his guard snapped to a salute, fists banging into their chest plates. Lloyd saw Dr. Borg flinch out of the corner of his eye.

He couldn’t find it in himself to care. He could barely keep himself from grinning.

With the sound of the salute, the heavy doors to the Grand Hall were pulled open by the intimidating figures of Chopov and Nuchal.

Lloyd’s father walked out, four arms clasped behind his back, dark robes swaying with a breeze that was not there.

The figure that had slipped off of the dragon was the first to fall to his knee. The dragon beside him lowered it’s car-sized head in a deep bow.

The rest of the courtyard followed suit, each guard, servant, and guest falling to their knee and lowering their head. The servants went the extra mile, going down to both knees and pressing their heads to the cobblestone. Lloyd was the only one who remained standing, side from the motionless skulkin, but he bowed at the waist.

“Ah, Commander, how fortunate it is to have you back in our midst. Your return is a beacon of hope amidst these troubling times.”

His father’s voice was a deep rumble that rolled across the courtyard and through the flaming pit unrestrained. His words gave Lloyd his unspoken permission to rise, so Lloyd straightened, taking his place beside his father. The commander now bowed before the both of them, his father dwarfing Lloyd with two feet between their heads.

The deep, rolling bass of the armored samurai met the Emperor’s baritone. “Your Majesty, it is an honor to be in your presence once more. I have returned as swiftly as duty allowed.”

“Your dedication to your duty is commendable. However, as you know, there are matters that require our immediate attention.”

“Of course, my liege. I stand ready to serve in whatever capacity you require.”

“Then, rise, Shogun, Blazebringer, Commander of the Central Plains,” The Emperor commanded. “You have been called to your post.”

His father’s lower-most hand fell onto Lloyd’s shoulder, while the rest remained clutched behind his back. Lloyd glanced up, but his father’s expression was as unreadable as ever. The chill of his fingers seeped through Lloyd’s hanfu and he couldn’t help but wonder which post he was referring to.

The Shogun gracefully rose, a head and a half taller than Lloyd, forcing him to crane his head up. Between the bulk of the mask, black fangs protruding from the bared teeth of the oni below the hooked nose, and the black ridge curving over the shape of his eyebrows, the Shogun’s eyes were visible, the only part of him not completely covered. Those eyes did not stray from Lloyd’s father—Lloyd felt a twinge of disappointment when he was ignored, not that he was expecting anything more.

His father, quickly growing tired of the show, pulled his hand away from Lloyd and swept around, his robes spinning around him like a shadow come to life. The Shogun did not hesitate in following, his heavy boots echoing like death throes under his powerful stride.

The dragon suddenly began to unfurl it’s wings, reaching them high into the air and getting to its feet. The wings blotted out light, the raw size of them causing pressure to press down into the courtyard from even their slow movement. Lloyd knew to brace himself before the dragon abruptly pushed off, thundering the ground below as it flapped its massive wingspan and took to the sky. A few servants fell over, Governor Aiko stumbling into Dr. Julien.

The dragon roared one final time above before swooping behind the palace, toward the gardens.

White faces and shell-shocked looks remained, but Captain Hutchins quickly called to his men. “COMPANY, ATTENTION!”

Lloyd scooped up the length of his haori and hurried into the Grand Hall. Behind him, the Imperial Guard waited with baited breaths for the doors to close so that they may finally be dismissed back to their posts. Chopov and Nuchal entered after Lloyd, sealing the doors firmly behind them.

The sounds of the mute crowd were cut off, only the footsteps of Lloyd, his father, and the Shogun echoing within the vaulted arches of the Grand Hall.

“My son,” his father hummed, his hand finding Lloyd’s shoulder again. He could almost feel the vibration of the imposing Emperor’s voice as he spoke, his red eyes angled down to meet Lloyd’s. “I believe it is time for you to excuse yourself to your chambers. It seems the Shogun’s grand entrance gave you quite the fashion statement.”

The amusement in his voice and the flick of clawed finger through Lloyd’s hair made his face flush. He quickly reached up and patted his head—sure enough, the hot wings of the dragon’s antics had blown his hair from his manicured curls. He groaned in annoyance, desperately trying to pat down the crazy strands he could feel sticking upright.

His father’s dismissal was lost on him. He frowned, lowering his hands. “But, father—”

“Lloyd,” his father warned. “I do not have time to humor your arguments today. You know very well the gravity of the current situation. Now, go make yourself presentable—more of those aristocrats will be arriving today and I trust that you will be there to greet them.”

Lloyd crossed his arms. “You’re just making me do it because you don’t want to.”

Eyes that had brought nations to their knees with a mere glare now rolled, his father letting out an exasperated grumble. “Lloyd.”

“Alright, alright,” Lloyd surrendered with a sigh. “I’ll go. But before I do—Father. I know you’re going to try to keep me out of this to protect me, and I appreciate it, I do, but…I’m going to be crowned your heir in less than a month. I’m almost eighteen already. You’re going to have to involve me eventually unless you’d like to have a poor excuse for a crown prince.”

His father raised his stark white eyebrows, the handsome dark face below his crown showing Lloyd an expression Lloyd rarely got from his father—something that had a hint of respect.

“Be that as it may,” his father conceded. “An important conversation between me and my commander is not something I can afford to walk you through at the moment.”

His father gestured down the hall with two of his hands, the sleeves of his over-decorated robes swaying without a breeze. Lloyd huffed in annoyance, but knew when he was toeing the line, so he gave in. He gave the Shogun one last glance.

The Shogun winked at him.

Lloyd suppressed a smile and turned away.

For the first time in five months, he was not shadowed by the colossal figures of Chopov and Nuchal as he marched down the hall. The palace felt so much emptier without the screaming servants and the crackling sound that the skulkin made when they laughed. First Master, that was the creepiest part! Finally, the burden of their presence had been lifted from Lloyd’s shoulders—and his father had acknowledged the truth in his words! Things were going well for him. Too well. Sure, there was the death of the governor and the possible escalation of rebel activity, but still…it felt like a shoe was waiting to drop.

Lloyd shook it off, letting himself enjoy light steps for once, as he passed the windows of the palace that let dim light stream in among the flickers of purple.

Brad caught him on the way to his room, his arms full of Lloyd’s freshly washed laundry. He was stumbling under the weight of it, but managed to bump Lloyd’s shoulder, a grin on his face.

Without any other servants around, Brad wasn’t shy about laughing at the state of Lloyd’s hair.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lloyd grumbled, his face going red as he tried in vain to hold his hair down. “Laugh it up. I am your future emperor, you know.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Brad chuckled, fumbling with Lloyd’s door to open it for him, full hands and all. “You’re right, Your Highness, I’m sure you’ll make that style all the rage.”

Lloyd scoffed. “I’ve got the door, out of the way.”

Brad frowned, genuinely frowned, but did as he was told. Lloyd opened the door and held it that way for Brad to go through with his armfuls of incredibly expensive fabrics. His friend disappeared into one of his closets while Lloyd gave himself a once-over in the mirror.

He slapped both his hands on his face. He couldn’t believe he’d stood by his father looking like this. Good thing it had only been the palace servants and a few politicians watching—this was embarrassing! He marched into his bathroom, grabbed a hair brush, and immediately began to claw the hardened gel from his curls with it.

“Oh, man,” Brad said hopelessly from behind him. “You’re gonna puff up again.”

“No, I am not,” Lloyd grunted.

It was already happening—where the gel was finally loosening, his curls were turning to anti-gravity frizz.

“Lloyd—”

“It’s fine, I’ll fix it!”

Brad was silent for a long moment, then said, “I’m so getting executed today.”

“No, you’re not!” Lloyd told him, glaring at his reflection in the mirror while still going aggressively at the hair gel.

Of course, his hair was passed saving by the time he was done. Brad was trying in vain to part it, but it would just shoot right back up at the wrong angles. His friend kept saying “it’s fine, we can totally fix this” and they did not, indeed, fix it. Eventually Lloyd groaned, tossed his brush onto his bedside table, and let himself fall face-first on his bed. He could admit when it was time to give up.

Brad left him to wallow, going to find Jenn and the maids to save Lloyd from himself before his father called upon him and found himself embarrassed in front of all of his political-war-mongers because of his idiot son. Brad came back and patted Lloyd on the shoulder with sympathy, telling him Jenn was hopefully on her way.

“Oh, thank the First Master,” Brad sighed when the knock on the door finally came. “Looks like I might live to see another day. Hey, you’ve gotta get up if you want your mess cleaned up.”

“I think shaving it would save us a lot of trouble,” Lloyd disagreed, his voice muffled in his pillows.

“That would ruin the pretty boy thing you’ve got going on!”

Lloyd didn’t respond, thankful that the outrageously fluffed pillows could hide his flushed face.

The door opened on the other side of the room. Lloyd did not immediately hear Jenn's sigh of disappointment at the sight of him.

Instead, he heard Brad stuttering. “Sh-Shogun! My Lord, I—this isn’t—”

Lloyd immediately jerked himself up and turned around, frantic.

In the doorway stood the six and a half foot champion, armored in black and red, the snarling mask of the oni firmly in place. His armor made him almost too wide to fit into the room without turning sideways. He made Brad look very small and very vulnerable standing before him. Even from across the room, a wave of heat made the constant chill of the palace fade away.

After getting a deadpan stare in response to his stuttering, Brad tutted nervously. “I’ll—Um, I’ll just go bring Jenn by. For the—whole situation we have back there. Yeah. My Lord.”

Brad gave a shallow bow the Shogun’s way before expertly slipping around him, shooting Lloyd a wide-eyed look, and all but running down the hall.

Lloyd’s face was already splitting into a bright grin.

As Lloyd leapt off of his bed, the Shogun reached up under the chin of his helm to pull a latch. Then, the hand hooked over the mask on his face while the other hand slipped under the hood of the helm.

The face under the helm was much younger than many in Ninjago theorized—sharp featured, scarred, with thick brows and a clean-shaved jaw—and a growing smile.

“Hey, kiddo—oof!”

Lloyd threw his arms around the ridiculous armor and squeezed as tight as he could. He almost took the both of them to the ground in his haste, both trained martial artists stumbling to remain upright. Lloyd hardly cared.

He was laughed at, but arms came down, helm dropped onto his carpet, in order to hold him just as tightly. As a show of extra drama, those arms briefly lifted him off the ground, just so that Lloyd would begin elbowing in order to escape.

Lloyd pulled back, but clutching onto the shoulder straps of the armor, as if the man would try to escape. “What the hell took you so long?!”

“Whoa, who taught the future crown prince bad words? Wait, wait, don’t tell me—the Lord Chamberlain. I knew that guy was a bad influence.”

Lloyd groaned, “Kai!”

His friend laughed again, the kind of laugh that bled at the edges of relief and left a smile behind that hurt with how genuine it was. Lloyd’s red eyes reflected in fiery amber—Kai drew upright before him, at home in the armor that rightfully shouldn’t fit him. His gauntlets patted the prince’s arms in reassurance.

And, First Master, Lloyd couldn’t help the way that any worries he’d ever had melted away at the contact. It had been a long five months—the longest time that Kai had ever been sent away from Lloyd’s side. To have him back meant that nothing could go wrong in the world that couldn’t be handled. Kai was home.

“It’s good to see you too, Your Highness,” Kai smiled, the side of his lip pulled up by one of his old scars—the one that went all the way up his face, splitting his eyebrow, by some miracle sparing his eye. “How’s palace life been? Less dusty than the Sands, I’d bet.”

“Normal and boring—you know, mostly,” Lloyd pulled back to itch at his head. “Besides the Kuroganes being dead and, like…one assassin getting passed the Black Gate, but they were delt with so quickly, barely even worth mentioning, really…”

Kai’s expression abruptly dropped and he gave Lloyd a once-over with narrowed eyes. “Yeah, I heard. I could have burned the words into their skin and those idiots would manage to screw up every instruction I leave for them. At least it’s not so bad to have those bone-heads around after all, right?”

“Don’t make me admit that,” Lloyd sighed. “Father might take it as permission for them to follow me around even when you are here. I was going to go crazy with all of their chattering eventually!”

“Oh, trust me, I know,” Kai agreed with a roll of his eyes. “Imagine being stuck in a whole camp of them. If I ever have to hear Skullian again, it’ll be too soon.”

Lloyd brightened at the mention of Kai’s station for the last few months. “You promised you’d tell me all about it when you got back. What was the Bone Army like? Did you see any serpentine? Is it true that the sun never sets over the Dune Sea? What about giant wyrms, did you fight any?”

“Whoa, slow your roll, kid.” Kai put up his hands placatingly. “I did promise and I will, as soon as we talk about more pressing matters.”

Lloyd quirked an eyebrow. He couldn’t be talking about whatever he and Lloyd’s father had discussed while Lloyd had been moping around, could he? Sure, he trusted Kai to let him in on it eventually—he always did—but so soon after he’d gotten back?

“Pressing matters?”

“Yeah, I’d say so.” Kai’s eyes dragged up to his rat’s nest. He waggled a finger above Lloyd’s face. “Who the hell gave you permission to do your own hair?”

Lloyd patted down his hair instinctually.

The prince glowered. “Maybe if the servants can’t fix it, I won’t have to show some codgey old governors to the extra bedchambers.”

“Foolproof. Absolutely foolproof,” Kai agreed sarcastically. “But you don’t have to worry about that anymore—I need your help with something.”

“…My father told me I was on greeting duty.”

Kai scoffed and waved his hand in the air, dismissing the words. He stooped down to pick up the two piece of his helm, making a show of dusting them off, as if dust could survive all the cleanings of Lloyd’s bedchamber.

He put the helmet of the helm on, then slid the facemask up until it clicked into place. His eyes were still smiling, even when his voice modulator turned his voice into an uninterested monotone.

“You know the Emperor won’t mind as long as it means you stay by my side. Now change into something less fancy and meet me at the Keep. And maybe find a hat.”

Lloyd rolled his eyes fondly, but it was true—being wherever Kai was had always been the safest place in the world that Lloyd could be. Very few beings in the Realm of Ninjago could overcome the power of an elemental master, especially a master of one of the original four elements—air, water, earth, and in this case, fire. The only possible threats to Lloyd while Kai was in the room was a short list of four—his own father, and the unlikely possibility of the other three original elements being as well trained as Kai. Not even the skulkin, the dragon out back, nor the minor elemental masters could hope to overcome him.

When Kai was without his mask, he seemed so deceptively normal to Lloyd, but his reputation as the Shogun proved the power of a being that could not be denied. But Kai had never liked Lloyd knowing about the Shogun’s work, so Lloyd rarely went out of his way to find out the…well, the gory details. Because there was gore in that history. Kai didn’t even like Lloyd watching his father’s execution’s, despite them being mandatory viewing for Ninjago City.

When Lloyd was sure Kai was about to leave, his friend abruptly turned back, only to lock Lloyd in a headlock and dig the knuckles of his gauntlet into his hair.

“Ow!” Lloyd shoved at his arms, scowling. “Get off me! You’re a buffoon!”

Kai laughed once more, freeing him. His laugh sounded choked and metallic under the voice modulator, as if it hadn’t been designed to translate joy.

“Now you really do sound like the chamberlain!”

As much as Lloyd threw around insults, as soon as Kai was gone, he scrambled to change so that he could go and find him as soon as he could. He wasn’t sure what work he’d been referring to, but he did know that it often meant that they would be getting some training time in. Lloyd had been training in secret by himself for far too many months—he missed having a sparring partner and a teacher to give him new moves to practice.

He shoved clothes aside in his closet, grumbling at the weight and excess of them, before finally finding some linen harem pants. They were still covered in artful patterns that the usual citizen would find unnecessary, but it was as close to Lloyd got to traditional casual clothes. He had a few hoodies and sweatpants hidden along the top of his closets, but those were supposedly for when he was in private only. He managed to find one of his only white T-shirts, figuring he could get away with wearing it as long as he threw a shorter haori on top of it.

Most of his haori were silk, too, but he had one of linen reserved for when he trained so that he could sweat in it—it was the only non-imperial color in his closet because Kai had brought it back from one of his missions for him.

He hadn’t even pulled his arms all the way through the sleeves before he was stumbling out the door, boots wrapped messily. At last minute, he shoved his arm into his chest of many, many headpieces—his hand came up with a beanie.

When he sped-walked through the halls, there was no one following him. Not skeletons, not servants, not his father. People barely even noticed him. A few recognized him, of course, and offered him bows, but most servants were rushing around, busy preparing for the arrival of the remaining governors and any other guests the assembly would bring. To those in a hurry, Lloyd just looked like a messenger boy or a stable hand, wearing the wrong day’s uniform.

The anonymity gave him a wonderful sense of peace and calm despite the chaos around the palace. Yet another reason why he’d missed what freedoms he had when the Commander of the Central Plains was housed in Shadowspire. There was a time when that was not so rare—but that was before. Before he’d gained the title that promoted him to have the second highest authority in the empire, to become responsible of every human troop that wore imperial colors. Before, when he’d just been the Prince’s bodyguard. Before, when it had just been him and Lloyd against the world.

Before, when Lloyd had been too young to know of all the tragedies and horror that spread across the land. Before, when Lloyd had been too young to even know of the whole world he was being protected from.

The Keep was a short hike off of the garden, technically outside the walls of the fortress and the Black Gate, but it mattered little—the short trek was up stone steps that had been carved out of the very mountain, and on the other side of the rope supports, there was sheer cliff. The palace had been placed against the very walls of the Veil to offer the best protection at it’s back. The Keep had been placed just above the gardens, up the mountain a ways, and no one would be able to reach it without going through the Gate, fighting through the palace, making their way through the gardens, and going single file up the steps. It was the most out of the way, and the most private, place in Shadowspire.

It also happened to belong to the Shogun, no one being allowed in that he did not allow in. And no one dared go against the Shogun’s wishes. Some believed it to be even worse than going against the Emperor’s—because at least Lloyd’s father had a political agenda and liked to amuse himself with those under him. If one got on the Shogun’s bad side…well, it didn’t happen often, was all Lloyd would say. Kai was fair, but he didn't tolerate inefficiency.

Lloyd didn’t bother knocking before pushing open one of the heavy metal gates of the Keep, the wind whistling, higher up that he was.

Inside, the Keep resembled the coliseums of old, circular shaped, with an open maw of air above to allow easy access. It could be mistaken for the fighting pit in the garrison below—if not for the piles and piles of gold laying around. And, of course, the massive dragon that filled out half the space.

The noises of the dragon’s breathing and a snort echoed around the circular space. It looked even more beautiful in the Keep—the Dragon’s Keep—because here, in the Shogun’s domain, the braziers that hung under the arches on every side were not lit with oni fire—rather it was wholly natural, smoke-belching, red and orange tongues of flame.

Lloyd had missed this, too. In the Dragon’s Keep, he felt like he could breathe.

“Heads up!”

Lloyd turned, his arms shooting up to catch the staff that was thrown at him.

Kai grinned, a staff in his own hands. “Nice reflexes, greenie.”

Lloyd looked down at his colored haori, shrugging. “It was the only thing I had that wasn’t silk.”

“Good, because the chamberlain would definitely hand my ass to me if you were wearing anything of your precious closet to do this.”

Kai had changed as well, out of his bulky metal samurai armor and into a gi, lighter and with studded leather armor protecting him. Even in his own Dragon’s Keep, it seemed, he still had to be ready. He’d also lost almost half a foot in height and half of the size his show armor otherwise gave him—but Lloyd had used ‘Kai wearing heels’ jokes to death, so he didn’t bother to mention it this time around.

Kai looked so much more like himself, now, his hair somehow done in the five seconds they’d been apart, dark brown gelled up and back to graze the back of his collar. There was tension below the surface, but Lloyd couldn’t be surprised—a lot was going on.

Kai held up his staff, turning it in his hands to show—the wide mop-brush at the end of it.

Lloyd frowned and lifted his staff—which was actually a wide broom, dripping with soap and water from a nearby basin.

Lloyd groaned. “I thought we were going to train. I’ve been practicing every day!”

“I know you’ve been practicing every day,” Kai turned away from Lloyd, dipping his tough-bristled broom into the basin. Soap suds sloshed over the edge. “But Dreadmaw doesn’t get a bath every day and she’s got sand between her scales. Don’t you, girl?”

The house-sized dragon, which Lloyd could now see was glistening along her shoulder, lay across the ground and huffed in agreement. Smoke drifted from her nostrils.

Kai sighed dramatically. “Oh, I know, you weren’t made for that damn desert, huh?”

Lloyd thought about arguing—but instead he just huffed. Because honestly? This was his idea of fun. While Kai was away, everyone followed the orders of Lloyd’s father to the letter and Lloyd was never allowed to do physical labor or even basic physical training to keep his health for fear of him getting hurt. So he’d take anything—even cleaning a dragon that, frankly, smelled like a burning barn.

Dreadmaw rumbled in appreciation when Lloyd slapped the brush on her opposite shoulder and began to scrub. She tilted her head his way and closed her eyes nice and slow, like a satisfied cat.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lloyd grumbled. “You’re welcome.”

“So, the Dune Sea!” Kai’s voice shouted from the other side of the dragon. “Big! Lots of dunes. Pretty lame overall. Didn’t see any massive worms—jury’s still out about whether or not those exist. I did see a few serpentine prisoners, but no battles. I was only down there to deal with Samukai’s dragon problem.”

“Dragon problem?”

“Those bone-heads let a couple of their pack mules escape. It took me a while to track them down to some old serpentine caverns. Dragons that can fly don’t leave much in the way of trails to follow, believe it or not.”

Lloyd moved on to scrubbing the underside of Dreadmaw’s wing. The dragon purred, her body shifting to allow him more access. Lloyd quickly began to sweat—the dragon’s body heat was incredibly suffocating. In fact, her scales steamed every time Lloyd’s brush came back with fresh water. He was careful not to touch her—skin to scale contact could leave stinging superficial burns within a few seconds, as he’d found out the hard way a long time ago.

“So, did you bring them back, or what?” Lloyd asked.

Kai was quiet for a few seconds. Lloyd wondered if Dreadmaw’s breathing was too loud. She lowered her head to the ground, closing her eyes, still holding the wing up above Lloyd’s head.

“No,” Kai eventually said. “They didn’t make it. Samukai and his bones had worked them to death—they’d probably escaped because they were so desperate for food. They’d already died by the time I’d found them.”

“Oh.”

Dreadmaw rumbled deep in her throat, this one sounding a little more raw, the dragon equivalent to a whine. At the sad noise, Lloyd could hear Kai patting the scales of her neck on the other side of the heavy body.

“I know, baby, I know,” the man consoled her. “Don’t worry, I would never let that happen to you. You want a treat? Let’s get you a treat.”

Lloyd gave Dreadmaw extra scrubs where she liked it, his gut dropping while he thought about the story. He couldn’t imagine anyone treating such majestic creatures so badly. Sure, the species as a whole was an enemy to the empire and often the most dangerous threats to it’s people—but those under the empire’s servitude should be honored.

Dragons were so incredible—especially this one, that Lloyd had named when he’d been thirteen, the day that Kai had suddenly come home with the only dragon Lloyd had ever seen.

Kai pulled open one of the baskets near the gate that stunk of fresh meat. He pulled out a long, heavy strip of—something or another—and tossed it high into the air. Dreadmaw’s muscled body abruptly sprang up, jaw snapping around the meat. Lloyd flinched, but the dragon had been careful to avoid him before laying back down with a contented purr.

“Aw, you are such a lovely girl, aren’t you?” Kai said, draping himself over Dreadmaw’s snout and hugging her face. “The best dragon in the whole world, yes you are.”

Dreadmaw preened under the attention, opening her jaws and letting out a large puff. Smoke exploded out from between her teeth, surrounding her face and Kai in a black cloud. When it drifted and cleared, Kai was not at all bothered, rubbing Dreadmaw’s forehead.

Lloyd wiped sweat from his face, leaning against his broom to give himself a break. “Do you two need the room?”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, he’s just jealous,” Kai assured her, patting the dragon under the chin. The dragon rumbled in agreement. Lloyd moaned at their ridiculous cuddling.

“I could be training right now,” he sighed.

Kai snorted, going back to the brush. “What are you in such a hurry to train for, kid? Thinking about challenging the Pit or something?”

“No…I just…want to be ready, I guess. For the real world. If I could just show my father how well I can fight, then maybe he won’t be so worried. Maybe I won’t have to fight him so hard and after my coronation…he’d just have to let me go.”

Kai, scrubbing Dreadmaw’s neck, frowned over her head. “Lloyd, you know that you can’t tell him. There’s a reason he never had you trained.”

“Yeah, I know. For my own protection!” Lloyd scoffed. “But that doesn’t make any sense. Training me would protect me more than keeping me wrapped up in cushions for the rest of my life! My father was brilliant enough to conquer all of Ninjago—but he can’t see that? I just—I’ll never understand!”

Kai hummed. Dreadmaw thankfully didn’t seem to mind the way that Lloyd’s scrubbing suddenly became more aggressive. Her body shimmied.

“Sometimes his love for you blinds him, I think,” Kai said, voice more somber than before.

Lloyd…felt some of the frustration melt down. “I know. Ugh, I know, it’s just…is this going to be my life forever? Is the Veil all I will ever know? It’s…I can’t imagine anything worse.”

His words echoed off the Keep walls before dissipating into silence.

The two of them worked down Dreadmaw’s back—Kai climbing up top and polishing her spines—Lloyd putting on goggles, a metal-working mask, with a pick in hand and cleaning between her teeth. She growled whenever he bit too hard into her gums, fire sparking at the back of her gaping throat. Kai entertained all of his questions about the Skulkin Army. Mostly, Kai complained about the fact that all they had were dry, non-perishable reserves for food because they didn’t eat.

He also complained about Commander Samukai. Commander Samukai was not a fan of the Shogun. Just twenty years ago, Samukai was Emperor Garmadon’s right-hand-man in all respects before rumors of him considering a coup reached Lloyd’s father. If he were anyone else, the Emperor would have immediately slain him, but as it was, Samukai was an irreplaceable general—the only skeleton with intelligence. So Garmadon sent him on the never ending quest in the south—and a few years later, the Shogun filled Samukai’s role as the Emperor’s most trusted man.

Of the three Great Commanders, Samukai and the Shogun certainly had the most bad blood. But that was the reason all three commanders had jurisdiction as far as possible from one another—one covering the Northern Regions, watching the Realm portal—one on the Central Plains, keeping Ninjago’s population in line—and one on the South, keeping the snakes at bay.

At one point, while Lloyd was losing eyebrow hairs in Dreadmaw’s mouth, a nervous knock echoed from the gates.

Kai, straddling Dreadmaw’s tail backwards to get between the smaller scales, barked, “You want to get that?”

Lloyd rolled his eyes, but pulled out of the dragon’s mouth and flipped up the metal visor. He went and pulled open one of the gates, still holding the pick and decked out in blacksmithing gear.

The courier hesitated, seeing Lloyd instead of Kai, then quickly bowed low. “Your Highness, I was expecting the Shogun. I have an urgent message to deliver from the Emperor.”

The fact that the man didn’t seem nervous suggested he was one of the Emperor’s long-served aids.

Lloyd pulled the gate open further, turning his head back. “It’s for you!”

Had they been alone, Kai likely would have cursed and casually allowed himself to struggle. As it was, he straightened in the presence of a servant, rolling gracefully from Dreadmaw’s tail and walking over with a high chin. His expression could have been carved from stone.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Kai nodded at Lloyd, clearly dismissing him as he took the door from Lloyd and opened it wider.

Lloyd glowered a little—people still keeping him out of the loop—but didn’t challenge his authority in front of one of his father’s servants. He flipped his visor back down as he walked and tapped Dreadmaw’s snout to get her to open back up.

He strained to hear what was discussed, but Kai head leaned down so that the servant could speak closely to his ear. Something Lloyd’s father likely didn’t want him to know.

Out of the corner of his eye, Kai nodded, expression remaining flat and professional. With the mask of the Shogun on, he looked ten years older than the Kai that had been joking with Lloyd not a moment ago.

The courier didn’t stay long. Kai’s expression had cleared by the time he turned back to Lloyd.

Lloyd’s voice reverberated under the metal mask. “What did my father have to say?”

“Work-related things.” Kai shrugged, strategically not looking Lloyd’s way before going back towards Dreadmaw’s tail.

“You’re worse than him sometimes, you know that? You promised that you wouldn’t keep me in the dark anymore. Whatever it is, I can handle it.”

“I know you can,” Kai muttered, his voice still loud in the echoing space, even when he spoke softly.

Lloyd frowned and took the shield all the way off his face. His hair had been properly tamped down by the sweat, of all things, but he was also covered in soot and suds, now. He tossed the mask away, pulled the goggles up onto his forehead, and ducked under Dreadmaw’s massive wing. She lifted it a bit for him.

Kai sat with his legs crossed on the ground, a metal sponge shedding in his hand as he scrubbed at the base of Dreadmaw’s longest tail spines. The metal was visibly softening under the heat of both the dragon and the elemental master’s hand. Kai undoubtably noticed Lloyd standing there, but he didn’t look up.

“Do you?” Lloyd asked. His tone was more gentle than he’d meant—he couldn’t be mad at Kai when he knew all he ever did was to protect Lloyd. “Because it seems like you’re doing the same thing you’ve always done. You said yourself that I’m not a kid anymore. You can’t berate my father’s paranoia one moment and keep me out of important business the next. So just—tell me. Please.”

Knowing about anything his father or Kai deemed as dangerous was like pulling teeth.

But comparing Kai to his father always seemed to do the trick. Sure, it was a low blow on Lloyd’s part—but he would do what he had to in order to be involved.

He saw Kai’s jaw clench, like he expected, and the annoyed glance up at Lloyd. Lloyd folded his arms.

“Alright, I see your point,” Kai gritted. He gave a weary look towards the gates, where the messenger had left, then sighed. “…Tomorrow, the Empire is going to announce that they’ve found the man guilty of murdering Governor Kurogane and his wife. Then, they’re going to sentence him to die.”

“They’ve found the assassin?!”

Kai snorted. “I doubt it, but I wasn’t told. It’s more likely that the Emperor has found someone convenient to blame.”

“Where is the justice in that? The real killer will escape.” Lloyd’s lips twitched down.

Kai paused what he was doing to raise a dry eyebrow up at Lloyd. “…That’s true.”

“The reason the executions happen…they’re to bring those who deserve it to justice. That’s the whole point. Right? That’s what—That’s what you told me.”

“Yeah,” Kai said. He looked old, again. “That’s what I told you when you were twelve years old and you asked me why your father made every man, woman, and child in Ninjago watch his enemies be beheaded on live TV. You don’t want to be treated like a kid anymore? Alright. Half of the people put on that chopping block never did anything wrong. Some of them even tried to help people. But your father didn’t like them, so they became examples. That fear has kept people from speaking out against the Emperor for decades. That’s why the executions happen. The Empire…it doesn’t care about justice. Not any more than Garmadon himself does.”

Lloyd opened his mouth to deny it, but his throat was too dry to form words. He glared at Kai, as if that would make him change his mind, but Kai just gave him a passive look, waiting for Lloyd.

Lloyd turned away, snapping his jaw shut and grinding his teeth together. He wasn’t blind—he knew his father cared little for something as trivial to him as ‘justice.’ But the Empire wasn’t only Lloyd’s father—the Empire was made up of so many people, good people, like Governor Kurogane and Brad and the Lord Chamberlain and Kai. Sure, there were corrupt politicians and military leaders that went off the right path, but they were the minority. They had to be. Because if they weren’t, then that would mean that everything was bad. But it just…wasn’t. Lloyd had seen the good. So it couldn’t be.

Lloyd’s shoulders slumped in defeat. It couldn’t be—but what did he know? He’d never been in that world, the one that mattered. In truth…he had no idea what the Empire was outside of his safe, peaceful Veils.

He turned back to Kai. “But you do.”

“I do…?” Kai asked, patient for Lloyd.

“You care about justice,” Lloyd told him firmly. “I know you do.”

Kai held the metal sponge between both of his hands in his lap. Sitting on the ground the way he was, without his menacing armor, he looked small. Lloyd had never thought Kai had looked small before. Kai was always the shining sun looking down on Lloyd, providing him with hope, from the day that they had met.

He’d always been an insurmountable being, more kind than Lloyd could ever be, stronger than Lloyd could ever be, more patient, more just, more skilled. That pedestal had cracked more and more as Lloyd had grown older.

Now, pieces were chipping free. This was in no small part because of the bone-tired expression Kai had on his face. Lloyd suddenly recalled that expression getting engraved deeper and deeper onto his friend’s face for years. Now, it seemed to touch his very soul.

“Maybe I do,” Kai exhaled. “But that doesn’t matter. Everyone in the Empire is a servant—myself included. I may get more privileges, have a high title, but in the end, I am no different than the lowest of lives filling the labor camps.”

“That’s not true.” Lloyd sat down next to him. “You are not just a servant. You’re my family.”

Kai smiled at his words, but the expression hadn’t left him, so the smile looked hollow.

“I know, kiddo.” He draped an arm across Lloyd’s thin shoulders, only to ruffle his greasy hair. “I know. I love you, too. What do you say we finish up here, huh? That ten hour dragon flight is starting to make my legs sore.”

Dreadmaw rumbled in agreement, thwapping her tail twice against the ground beside them, making sparks burst against the stone. Kai flicked a finger and the sparks changed trajectory, like they’d bounced off an invisible wall before dissipating. Lloyd’s linen pants did not light on fire and he gave Kai a dry ‘thanks.’

-

The next morning, Lloyd flung open his bedchamber door and ran right into a massive skulkin-brand shield. Lloyd yelped, grabbing at his forehead, where it was now throbbing in pain.

Chopov and Nuchal both turned their swirling blue orbs on him and Lloyd got the distinct feeling that they thought he was stupid.

He groaned. “Not you two again.”

Brad was on the other side of the two spiney guards, his fist raised and poised to knock on the doors that Lloyd had pulled out from under him. Like the day before, he was in his expensive servant’s dress—the same way that Lloyd was, once again, put through the whole extra dress routine by the maids.

After all, the Governor’s Assembly was tomorrow, and tonight would be a grand feast to welcome them all to the palace before the long, dreary meetings that would go on the next day. The palace had to be at it’s best.

“You Highness.” Brad’s eyebrows were drawn together, his lips pursed. “I was just about to inform you that there is only a few minutes until the broadcast. The governors that have arrived have already gathered in the War Room and morning meal has been taken there. Lady Harumi will be joining them as well.”

The idea of trying to eat food while viewing the mandated television made Lloyd sick to his stomach.

He gave Brad a firm nod, his voice as strong. “Take me there.”

He ignored the stinging throb in his head all the way to his father’s war room. It would be where all discussions were held in the upcoming days, likely including who would be replacing Governor Kurogane and how to fix the vacuums of power that would crop up as a result.

Today, it would serve as a viewing room, as the War Room held the only holoscreen within the palace. Borg Tech-created, of course, though his father would never admit it aloud.

As Brad had promised, the governors who had arrived early had already taken their seats around the lengthy table, their families safety sheltered back in their offered bedchambers. It seemed that eight of the ten had made it there—each man more intimidating as the next, from their reputation, if not their appearances.

Governor Hikaru, Governor Aiko, Governor Zenji, Governor Raiden, and Governor Kaijiro. The living governors that were responsible for the regions that contained Ninjago City. The city itself contained close to three billion people, so individually, the governors had authority over hundreds of millions of lives. Each region, of course, had imperial control trickling further down the government to keep a handle on so many people and their needs.

Governor Jigoku and Governor Izanagi were from the outer regions, though they’d come from opposite sides of the city. They presided over the farmers and the villages—but most notably, the labor camps.

The two remaining governors of the outer regions had yet to arrive. Honestly, it was impressive that this many governors had made it within a day. Or perhaps rather than impressive, it was informing. They’d done everything in their power to keep themselves in the good will of Lloyd’s father.

Every one of them, six powerful men and two powerful women, stood at Lloyd’s arrival. The scrape of a chair near the front followed Lady Harumi getting to her feet, as well. They all bowed low, murmuring their greetings.

Lloyd dismissed them to be at ease. He didn’t grace any with his eye contact—he kept his eyes glued to Harumi, in order to avoid it. She smiled at him and offered the chair next to her, the one closest to the holoscreen, which was already lighting up the room with it’s feed. Lloyd numbly sat next to her. Those in the room did not speak casually. A few of the governors muttered between one another, but being loud in the calm felt wrong.

On the screen, there was a scene that Lloyd had seen a few times in the past. Despite Kai’s insistence that he avoid watching, he’d pressed enough to see them, especially as he’d gotten older. The first time, though, he had been twelve years old. He’d been so desperately curious about Kai’s firm disapproval of something that seemed to be consumed by every person in Ninjago, so he’d stolen a guard’s phone and tuned in when the time came.

Like that day, the screen showed the front of Imperial City Centre, the grandest building in Ninjago, and Governor Kurogane’s old office. It stood in the center of the city, as far as Lloyd knew, and it was quite the architecture feat. A giant statue of Lloyd’s own father hovered in front of the building, the main focus in the background of the platform. The platform itself was a permanent fixture, as was the executioner's block that was erected in the center of it. There was little else on the platform aside from the chains in front of the block. The block had never been cleaned—while it had been the only thing made of white stone before a building of greys, it had been stained long ago. Blood had seeped into the rock. The entire face of it was browned, like it had rusted.

Today, the platform was populated by a line of imperial guards in their plate mail, beside a squad of imperial troopers—the casual enforcers of the empire. The angle prevented television viewers from seeing, but the noise of the large crowd gathered in person could be heard.

The second in command of the Capital Region, Lieutenant Governor Clouse, stood to the right of the block, a standing microphone before him. Large flags of the empire circled the statue in the background, flapping harshly in the wind. Over the quiet murmur of the crowd, their snapped sounded violent.

Beside the Lieutenant Governor, the Shogun stood, taller than any other on stage, looking almost inhuman within the morbidly still armor. The blade on his back that extended above his shoulder glinted in the mid-morning sun.

Lieutenant Governor Clouse folded his hands behind him as he spoke, his voice velvety and distinctly upper-city Ninjago.

“Loyal subjects of the Empire…today, as we gather in this solemn assembly, we do so with heavy hearts and a deep sense of duty to our beloved Empire. Not only do we stand to witness the enforcement of justice, but also to honor the memory of Governor Tenno Kurogane. Our beloved Empire has suffered a grievous loss. May he always rest in our hearts and in the next life, along with his wife, Carnia Kurogane. Allow me to be the one to inform you that their deaths were no accident. As many have speculated, this cowardly act of senseless violence was enacted by the rebellion against the Empire.”

Behind the Lieutenant General, shifting began between the imperial troopers and a group of them split off, a form stumbled between them. They weren’t quite visible—but Lloyd thought he saw a flash of a white lab coat.

“Taking the life of our esteemed governor was an attack not only on one individual but on the people of the Empire themselves. It was an affront to the principles of order and stability that we hold dear. Let it be known that the spirit of our Empire cannot be broken by the actions of a few misguided individuals. As we prepare to carry out the sentence of the rebel who made this heinous act possible, let us do so with a solemn determination to uphold the rule of law. Let us show the world that justice will always prevail, no matter the challenges we face.”

The Lieutenant Governor opened his jacket and pulled out an official scroll. He unrolled it, holding the top and bottom, where the wooden dowels were tipped with silver grips.

From it, Clouse read the list of transgressions. “You have been found guilty of conspiracy against the Empire, incitement of rebellion and insurrection, subversion of imperial authority, and the assassination of an imperial official. Doctor Harish Julien, on account of high treason, you are herby sentenced to death by beheading.”

Clouse folded the scroll and stepped back.

Lloyd flinched when the imperial troopers parted to reveal the very man Lloyd had met the day before. His hair was even more out of control and his spectacles were bent, one of the glasses shattered. It seemed to have shattered directly into his eye—which was now swelled shut, blood splattered over his pale face. Evidence of a beating was clear, from the bruises to the limp in his walk. He was wearing a lab coat, like he’d been taken straight from his workspace.

The man stumbled forward at a push from the troopers, but when he regained his footing, he held his chin high in defiance. Even when he was pushed down onto his knees, his wrists forced into the chains, spreading his arms around the block.

The man was not given any last words—they never were. But the steely gaze in his one remaining eye spoke louder than Clouse ever could. Lloyd did not know if what they were saying was true about the doctor—the man that had held Lloyd’s hand and told him he was a nice boy—but Lloyd saw that the rebellion in his eyes were true. This was not a man who was dying a worthless, forgettable death. This was a man who could be a martyr.

He did not flinch, as many had before, nor did he beg, when the Shogun moved forward. The large sword at his back was drawn with an ominous hiss of metal. Every step of his had the troopers shifting further away.

Dr. Julien did not turn away or squeeze his eyes shut. He looked directly towards the camera that was projecting these images on every screen in Ninjago.

The Shogun’s sword swung down, heavy and true. It took one swing and a brief spurt of red—the blade digging a groove into the block beneath.

The head dropped onto the stone platform before the executioner's block. The spectacles fell away, the other side shattering. Fresh red seeped out and pooled before beginning to drip down the block—staining it anew.

Lloyd had to look away. His gaze fell upon Harumi, next to him, as he attempted to keep his expression even in front of all of the governors. They were all stone-faced along the table behind him.

But Harumi’s lips were curled up in a smile.

“Let this execution stand as a testament to the strength of our empire and the consequences of betrayal. To those who would dare to rebel or sympathize with our enemies, know this: your actions will not be tolerated. The empire's reach is long, and our resolve is unyielding. We will root out dissent wherever it may hide, and we will crush it without mercy. May our unity remain unshakeable as we forge ahead. Long live the Empire!”

The crowd outside the Imperial Centre repeated the cheer, but it sounded off-key, wrong. The proud, confident voices of the governors and Harumi echoing it within the room made up for any weakness outside.

“Long live the Empire!”

Chapter Text

The Governor’s Assembly came and passed with Lloyd spending much of his time in his chambers. If it had been up to Kai, perhaps Lloyd would have had a chance to be able to sit in during the meetings and have an opinion on the matters of the state. As it was, his father was the ultimate vote this time around, so there was no way that was happening. Lloyd was sure it was because he was paranoid of his governors trying to gain some sort of political favor from Lloyd, not that it would give them much, considering his father was so adamant about Lloyd staying out of everything.

Unfortunately, it also meant Kai was occupied giving his opinion and approval for certain decisions. After all, he did oversee the military control of Ninjago City, so if he didn’t like a governor, they wouldn’t last long.

Lloyd filled his time with reading Empire-approved books, training his forms to death, and visiting Dreadmaw up in the Dragon’s Keep. Lloyd was happy to give her belly rubs as soon as he loaded up on enough blacksmithing equipment that he looked like a twenty-year veteran of bending metal.

Lloyd had hoped that Lady Harumi would be able to provide her presence to ease his boredom, but he was frustrated to learn that his father had allowed her into the meetings of the day. Lady Harumi?! Why her and not him? Sure, she was the daughter of the dead ex-governor, but that shouldn’t matter. She’d never held office herself, and now that her father had no power, she should have been, well, a nobody to Lloyd’s goal-oriented father. The fact that he respected her enough to allow her into the meetings and not Lloyd made a certain ugly jealousy grow in his gut.

He dutifully ignored it and, when the time came, gave each of the governors a proper farewell at the second day’s feast. The wine that night tasted more bitter than usual in his mouth. His father was in the dining room for the first time in months, and he sat at the head of the table next to Lloyd, the Shogun standing fully armored at his side and unmoving over the course of the entire meal. If Lloyd hadn’t known him, the act would have cowed him as much as it did the governors, after the execution the day before. It was clear that the show hadn’t only been to remind the everyday citizens of the Empire’s wrath, having it on the eve of the Assembly.

With the weekend approaching, his birthday and subsequent coronation were only three weeks away. The preparation for it began early. Kai had likely been meant to remain in Ninjago City to ensure all the preparations matched the Empire’s standards, not to mention the security, but instead, all of the officials involved hiked up through Shadowspire to discuss everything in the palace by the Shogun’s demand.

Lloyd knew it was so that Kai wouldn’t have to leave him so soon after coming back, but it didn’t mean Lloyd saw any more of him than he would have.

He’d pictured the month leading up to his coronation to be full of new experiences, his father finally loosening the reigns, teaching him what he would need to know, showing him what he was to one day rule over. Instead, his time continued to be spent within the Black Gates, with only Brad for company. Sure, he had his lessons, but he barely remembered anything his tutor said after he left the learning room, mind otherwise occupied.

“I’m going to lose my mind,” he told Brad not two days following the Assembly. “I’m starting to think that my father never planned on giving me any freedom, no matter the year. I’m going to be fifty and wrinkled and I’ll still have never seen the city!”

“Man, that…” Brad sucked in air through his teeth. “That honestly just sounds really depressing.”

The fact that Brad couldn’t make a joke about the situation was telling. Lloyd groaned, slamming the book shut and letting himself fall back into the blue grasses of the garden. Across the stone path, a few servants were shaping the sparsely-leaved bushes, or trying to, at the very least.

Brad seemed a little more concentrated on his novel, eyebrows pinched—but he hadn’t turned the page in more than ten minutes, so Lloyd was pretty sure his mind was far away from where they were. He couldn’t blame him. If Lloyd’s mind could picture anywhere else, he would be daydreaming, too.

“Hey.” Lloyd tapped Brad’s foot. His friend startled. “I’m sorry for how much I’ve been complaining. What are you thinking about? You look worried.”

“I’m not worried,” Brad said quickly. “Can’t a guy just think?”

Lloyd propped his head up on his side, giving his friend an expectant look.

Brad blew out a sigh, closing his book with as much aggression as Lloyd had. Any Empire-approved book had that affect on people. Lloyd couldn’t imagine any dryer and more useless reading.

“Fine. I was thinking about tomorrow.”

Lloyd continued staring. It didn’t take much pressure to break Brad.

His friend rubbed his face. “You know I’m from the Crowns District, right? Well, our district celebrates the spring equinox every year. There’s this festival in the morning—and at night, there are these parties. A friend of mine invited me to one and, well, I haven’t used any of my visitation days this year, so I figured…”

Lloyd’s heart sunk a little. The thought of being left at the palace, alone, while Brad was partying with his other friends—his real friends—made him want to curl up.

Instead, he forced a smile. “That sounds fun. You’re going to go, right?”

Brad raised an eyebrow. “I mean…I was thinking about it. Are you okay with that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Lloyd shrugged. “I might be your job, but I’m not going to boss you around. At least one of us should be having a good time.”

“Hey, first of all,” Brad swatted his knee. “You’re not just my job, you’re my friend. And to be honest…I wasn’t just thinking about going.”

“Meaning…?”

“Well, I thought maybe…” Brad took a deep breath and glanced around. The only other people nearby were the gardeners, and they were too far away, and too invested in their clipping, to be able to overhear. Still, Brad all but whispered. “Maybe you’d like to come with me.”

Lloyd’s heart jumped in his chest. He quickly mirrored Brad in whipping his head around to make extra sure that no one was eavesdropping. Even the mere mention of taking Lloyd from the palace could get Brad flogged.

But the instant excitement that rushed through his veins was euphoric.

He leaned forward, frowning. “Are you serious? If this is another joke, it isn’t funny, come on.”

“It’s not. But, um, maybe we should find somewhere more private.”

Lloyd nodded and stood, holding out a hand to help Brad up. Brad carried their books. Lloyd nodded at the bowed heads of the imperial guards as they walked back inside the palace, pacing quickly towards Lloyd’s bedchambers. They thankfully avoided any of the preparation staff for the coronation, who had gained a liking toward pulling Lloyd aside at random times in his day to ask him about colors or designs for flowers or floats or decorations.

As soon as they got to his bedchamber, Lloyd closed the doors firmly behind them, pressing his ear against the door to ensure no one was sneaking by. He didn’t sense anyone.

He turned around. “I think we’re in the clear.”

“Great.” Brad put the books back onto Lloyd’s shelf. When he looked back at Lloyd, there was a bright, if nervous, smile on his face. Lloyd tried not to blush—but a smile that carefree was rare on Brad. “Lloyd, come with me to Ninjago tomorrow night. After your birthday, you’re going to be the Emperor-junior, and who knows how much freedom you’ll have then? This could be your last chance to get away with—with just being a kid for one day. Besides, if you’re going to be the ruler of everything, you said it yourself that you aught to know who you’re ruling, right? So…come with me.”

Lloyd walked over to sit at the edge of his bed. He ran a hand through his hair—finally not gelled down. The aching desperation in him immediately wanted to latch onto the chance. But as much as he’d been complaining over the last few days…there was a reason he hadn’t ever snuck out himself before.

“You have no idea how much I’d like that,” Lloyd sighed. “But you know I can’t. Not without—I mean, not without a solid plan.”

Brad’s grin widened. “Well, the Shogun’s sticking around for at least a few more days, which means Skeletor and crew aren’t going to be trailing you—if you just told everyone you didn’t want to be disturbed, no one would be able to even check if you’re still here. It’s not like the Emperor ever comes knocking on your door.”

“Sure, okay,” Lloyd shook his head. “But the Shogun absolutely would. He comes by all the time. And if he found me missing…”

Lloyd grimaced at the mere idea.

“Yeah, burn down the city, I figured,” Brad shrugged. He wrapped an arm around Lloyd’s bedpost to hover over him. “But you can convince him to leave you alone for one night, couldn’t you? I mean, he technically still serves you. If you give him an order, he’d have to do it, right?”

Lloyd frowned.

The memory of Kai’s empty expression in the Dragon’s Keep was still too fresh on his mind for him to even consider doing something like that.

“But I don’t want to.”

“He’s the Commander of the Empire, he’s not going to get his feelings hurt by you, man. I don’t even think he has feelings.”

Lloyd looked up at Brad, pressing his lips together, his decision firm.

Brad groaned. “Okay, alright, put the kicked puppy away. I guess you’ll just have to persuade him. It can’t be that hard—make something up about getting your beauty sleep.”

“Yeah, alright,” Lloyd exhaled. “I can do that much. But how are we supposed to get out of the valley? There’s only one way out and it’s under heavy watch at all hours.”

Brad raised an eyebrow. “I thought you’d ask how the hell you’re supposed to escape the palace, first. Everyone here knows you…we’ll have to find some sort of disguise…”

“Don’t worry about the palace.” Lloyd smiled wearily. “I’ve been sneaking around this place since I was seven. I can get to the Pass. But I couldn’t sneak passed the blockade there.”

“That’s where I’ll come in,” Brad assured him, his confidence growing with every minute of their conspiracy. “Don’t worry—I can get you through. Us servants are allowed to visit the city to see our families and such. And maybe the palace staff can recognize you, but the guards who man the blockade are always from the base, and not many of them have seen your face outside of imperial broadcasts. Right?”

“…Right.”

“You look way different on camera, with your hair all done and dressed up and stuff. So if you were just another servant using his visitation days…”

“Yeah, I get it.” Lloyd rubbed his face. He felt like he was shaking, but when he pulled his hands out to look at them, they looked steady. His body was buzzing with nerves just beneath the surface. “This is a lot. I don’t know if…I don’t know. Is it hot in here?”

He tugged at the high collar of his hanfu. He was getting paranoid, he knew—but it was so easy to imagine Kai listening through the door, ready with his disapproving look. Or, First Master forbid, his father who’d gained the abrupt urge to visit his bedchamber for the first time in eight years.

“Look, I know it might be risky, but everyone in the palace is busy with preparations, and the Emperor still has the Governor’s Assembly on his mind, right? Isn’t it worth it, to see the world, the real world?”

Lloyd frowned up at him. “Risky? Brad, if we do this and my father found out about it, you’d…”

Lloyd didn’t want to finish. He hadn’t wanted to bring it up, even, for fear of Brad immediately backing out once he’d realized the fact that he could lose his life if it went wrong. Stealing Lloyd away from Shadowspire might be the worst offense anyone could commit against the Emperor. To imagine that rage coming down on Brad…

It made him sick. Suddenly, the idea didn’t seem so bright and shiny, despite the longing in Lloyd’s heart that cried out for it.

“I know,” Brad said. His eyes were steely. “And I still want you to come.”

“You’re…insane, then. Why would you risk so much? I know…I know your father passed away a few years ago, but your mother lives in the city, doesn’t she? Is she not the entire reason you have visitation days?”

“Yeah, she is.” Brad sat down next to Lloyd, dipping the mattress. Their proximity made the room a little less cold. Lloyd stared down at his knees. “But it’s worth it. You’re my friend, Lloyd—I want you to see it. I need you to, your…your people need you to. It…It’s the only way that I can think of to make you understand.”

Lloyd looked up. “Understand what?”

“The…” Brad hesitated, glancing at the door, then back at Lloyd. His shoulders slumped. “What the weight of that crown will really mean. I know it’s not my place—hell, I’d still be a kitchen boy, if you hadn’t requested me as your aide—but…your future is all of our future, you know? So if I can help you become who you want to be…then I want to help you. And I…I just want you to be happy, Lloyd. You’re a good friend.”

Lloyd exhaled, then smiled. “You’re a good friend, too, Brad. Thanks for being on my side.”

“…Does this mean you want to go for it? Come what may?”

The possibility of Brad’s life literally hanging in the balance was sobering, but…oh, First Master, the hope in Lloyd’s heart hurt. He wanted to see the sky. He wanted to see the sun, the stars, clouds. He wanted to know what rain felt like. He wanted to see flowers, real flowers, growing from the ground, not just cut at the stems and brought to him. He wanted to see the skyscrapers as tall as the Veils, he wanted to see the reflection of the sunset in the windows of the towers. He wanted to ride in a car. He wanted to listen to music, not just on the ancient device Kai had smuggled in, but real music.

He wanted to breathe in air that didn’t taste of oni magic. He wanted to walk on his own two feet, he wanted to climb fire escapes, he wanted to stand on the roof of a twenty-story building and scream.

So, if Brad wanted that, too, then how could Lloyd find it in himself to deny him?

The smile he gave felt easier than breathing. “Okay. Come what may. I’ll go to Ninjago City with you.”

“Yes! Don’t worry, you won’t regret it.” Brad clapped him on the shoulder. “We are going to make tomorrow night the best night of your life.”

Lloyd laughed at his friend’s excitement and believed him.

-

Lloyd took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

He fidgeted with his white robes, embarrassed to be out in the palace halls in his bedclothes and slippers. If he were any other young man his age, in his own home, perhaps it wouldn’t have mattered, but as it was, he was the prince, and he should never walk even the palace in anything less than regal drapes. But tonight he was trying to sell his point beyond doubt, so there he was, in his bedclothes, the cold of the hallway seeping through the linen.

A muffled ‘Come in’ relieved him from the worry of the Lord Chamberlain marching down the hall and tearing Lloyd a new one for his state.

Kai’s chamber was, unsurprisingly, the only warm room in the palace. His furnishings were simple, if grander than any normal servant would have, with velvet drapes hanging from the walls and the bedframe. Without black brick of the palace wall, it felt far less like a dungeon cell than many of the other quarters. A fire, natural and bright, crackled in the fireplace. Like the Dragon’s Keep, stepping into Kai’s personal space felt like a different world from the rest of the palace. He was the only one fearless enough to deviate from the Emperor’s preferred decor, and highly decorated enough that no one would say a damn word about it.

Kai sat at his wide desk, printed paper strewn across it, some in piles, some stapled together. The man himself was flipping through pages, a ballpoint pen in his hand, all of the work far too modern to fit the aesthetic Lloyd’s father demanded. But paperwork was paperwork, it seemed.

He seemed relieved to be able to look up from it, eyes squinted and lips twisted. Unlike Lloyd, he looked distinctly not ready for sleep—he still wore the gi and light armor, boots on his feet.

“Hey,” the man greeted, throwing an arm over the back of his chair and raising an eyebrow at Lloyd. “…Well, don’t you look comfy. You looking for Clawey or something?”

Lloyd rolled his eyes at the mention of his childhood stuffed animal. “Hilarious. Your humor knows no bounds.”

“So you always remind me. What’s up, kid?”

Right. Lloyd inhaled. Moment of truth. He put on a confident facade, folding his hands behind his back.

“I’ve come to inform you that I will be retiring for the night.”

Kai just looked at him, unimpressed. He glanced toward the door, then back at Lloyd.

“…Okay. What, you want me to tuck you in or something?” He asked dryly.

“Wha—No,” Lloyd muttered back, annoyed. “I was just letting you know. Because I—I don’t want to be disturbed at all. So I’d appreciate it if you just left me alone until tomorrow.”

Kai slowly put the pen down, frowning. “…Okay. Sure. Is…everything alright?”

“Yes, of course,” Lloyd said quickly. He winced at himself. Why was he so bad at lying? “I mean…you know I’d tell you if anything was going on. Just, ah, want to get a good night’s rest so that we could maybe…er, train tomorrow?”

Kai raised an eyebrow, leaning back further.

“Yeah…we’ll see. Actually, we should have time, a bit later in the morning.”

Oh…great. That wouldn’t be exhausting at all after a night out. Lloyd was signing up to get his ass kicked.

“Good. Great.” Lloyd forced a smile. “Well…that sounds good to me. I’ll just…I’m going to go to bed, then. You won’t bother me, right?”

“When have I ever bothered you in the middle of the night?” His friend asked, rolling his eyes.

He gestured at the mountain of paperwork as he spoke—yeah, Kai would be lucky if he got any more sleep than Lloyd would. Lloyd prayed to the First Spinjitsu Master that his sweating wasn’t noticeable. He could just blame it on the heat of the room, right?

“Cool, yeah. Okay. I guess—Goodnight, then.”

“Go get some sleep.” Kai eyed him. “Weirdo.”

Lloyd gave him a short glower. If only the billions of people terrified of the iron-fisted, controlling, inhuman enforcer of the empire could see him insulting a seventeen-year-old like he was also a teenage boy. It was no wonder Lloyd had such a hard time considering Kai to be the same person as the one he saw in news reports.

As soon as Lloyd closed the door again behind him, his sigh of relief came from his whole body. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. Kai seemed a little suspicious, but not enough that he wouldn’t be able to hold his questioning until morning. All in all, Lloyd had successfully accomplished step one. Sure, it was the easiest step in his plan, but a win was a win.

Back in his bedchambers, he jumped up and down to pull up a pair of sweatpants, blinding himself when he struggled into a hoodie. He couldn’t help the way that he rushed—his entire body was buzzing with nerves and anticipation. He couldn’t decide if he was terrified or more excited than he’d ever been in his life. The feeling coursing through him was like the burst of adrenaline he got from sparring, but there was a sense of insecurity about it—for the first time, it came with the unrestrained knowledge that he could be in danger. Because he was rebelling again his father.

He was finally doing it. After ten years of longing for the world outside, he was going to see it by his own violation. He wasn’t going to let his guilt or any guard stop him this time. Lying to Kai and taking advantage of his presence was a small price to pay. After all, Kai would always forgive him. He would understand.

Lloyd’s breathing was carefully controlled and his hands were trembling a little as he put the hood over his head and tied the strings under his chin. His outfit was black—he could pretend that he was wearing a gi, like the ones Kai would wear. It made Lloyd able to imagine that he was on a mission, ready to take everything he’d learned about stealth and put it to the ultimate test. And he was, wasn’t he? A mission all of his own.

He waited in his room, pacing, until the electric numbers of his clock flipped to 22:00. Much of the palace and Shadowspire as a whole would be asleep, the garrison with a strict curfew below, and the palace servants being expected to begin their duties again very early in the morning. It was go-time.

When Lloyd carefully eased his door open, he couldn’t even smile, not with the way his heart was pounding.

The palace halls were sparsely populated, so even the softest pad of his feet within his toed boots sounded achingly loud. The purple flames flickered louder, thankfully. Lloyd moved among their shadows, straining his ears. He eyed every window as he passed them, thinking maybe one would be open, but he knew he didn’t need it. He hadn’t been bluffing to Brad—he’d snuck out of the palace before. He knew exactly where the holes in the Imperial Guard’s posts were.

Metal-plated boots marched toward him, from a hallway to the right. Lloyd sucked in a breath and pressed himself beside a decorative suit of boneguard armor. The violet lighting was dim and his black hoodie blended into the shadows—the way his father’s cloak often did.

A pair of guards came closer and closer, the strict unison of their steps matching the firm beat of Lloyd’s loud heart. He held his breath as they passed, thinking, don’t look, don’t look, don’t look!

They didn’t bother turning their helms, staring straight forward. Lloyd didn’t dare move until their footsteps receded all the way into the next hallway, slowly petering out.

He exhaled quietly, peeking out from behind the armor set. The coast looked clear. He put a hand on his chest, willing his shaky breathing to calm. The anticipation was going to kill him and he hadn’t even stepped passed the Black Gates, yet. His fingers curled to grip his hoodie tight as he steeled his resolve. He could do this. What else had all his training been for?

He crept through the hallways and made it to one of the servant’s passages near the back of the palace. Hopefully, they’d be as abandoned as possible.

The servant’s passages were not as well kept as the hallways—the brick was undecorated and unpolished and it smelled of body odor between the closet-width. The passaged unfortunately didn’t go very far—that would be far too convenient for him—but one of them did lead him out into the gardens without him having to pass the imperial guards that stood watch on the main doors.

He winced when the humble wooden door creaked upon his opening of it. He immediately stilled his efforts, even though it was only open enough to let in the dim light of the valley. He listened, unmoving, but he didn’t hear the rush of armored guards from the right. He could hear them quietly shifting in their armor, and even the low murmur of their conversation, but they didn’t sound alarmed.

He worked the door open achingly slowly, chanting in his head to keep his patience. He probably spent an entire three minutes just opening the service door.

Once it was wide enough, he slipped through, and closed it with just as much care to keep it from creaking too loudly. When it finally clicked quietly, he exhaled.

The door led directly behind some bushes—no palace would like their high and mighty visitors to have to see servants coming and going while trying to enjoy the garden. The door would remain unlocked and Lloyd would hopefully use it to sneak back in later. He kept his hoodie-covered head down, eyes on the ground to keep from stepping on any branches as he crawled around.

The two guards stood before the large doors, none the wiser. One leaned against his poleaxe, the other gesturing with a hand as they spoke. Both were large and intimidating and would be able to grab Lloyd no problem with him having to hold back his martial arts.

He moved away from them, keeping low and patient, as he’d been taught. His hand reached out to find the black brick of the palace’s fortress walls and he followed it. The further into the garden, the more muffled their conversation began, until Lloyd couldn’t hear the guards any longer. When he couldn’t, and he was confident in the mass of gnarled trees between them, he stood up.

In the back of the garden, it was terribly dark, with no torches around to pierce the valley’s night. Lloyd didn’t need them. He stood before the tall wall and ran his hands side to side across the bricks.

“Where are you…?” He whispered to himself, more of an exhale than real words.

Finally, his fingers caught an indent just above his shoulder height, exactly where he’d expected to find it. Lloyd was at last able to grin to himself. The anxiety was giving way to the hope in his chest, the hope that was making him feel weightless—like he could do anything.

That weightlessness made it unbearably easy for him to latch onto the handhold in the wall and begin to climb.

He couldn’t see very well, but muscle memory assuaged any of his fears. He’d climbed this wall plenty of times. When he’d been younger, he had used it to sneak out in order to sit around the top of the base’s fighting pit down on the lower layer. Kai had quickly caught on to where he had been disappearing to, but rather than berate him, his bodyguard had begun to appear uninvited with a bowl of popcorn and chew loudly next to him. He wouldn’t share unless Lloyd told Kai before he planned to sneak out, so his ten-year-old self had begrudgingly warned Kai to bring his favorite treats on fighting days.

He still didn’t know if his father had ever found out about those field trips—they’d hidden pretty well and his father had never mentioned it. Perhaps it had been because his father hadn’t minded. After all, he was the one who had created the Pit decades before. It had been more impressive back then—when the Emperor had imported strange beasts and mighty warriors to watch them kill each other for his own entertainment. By the time Lloyd was born, his father had grown bored of it, and it was little more than another training opportunity for the troops, now. Still, Lloyd had gone to watch the battles with the hope that he would somehow absorb the skills by watching them.

Besides, they’d helped him with his squeamishness. He hadn’t even thrown up from disgust since he’d seen a man get his fingers chopped off in one of the more gruesome battles. Kai had awkwardly patted him on the back while Lloyd had given the popcorn bucket a new use. Lloyd hadn’t asked for Kai to bring any snacks, after that.

Lloyd carefully picked at the path that wrapped around the palace’s fortress. The Black Gate stood well-guarded with four men at the front of it. He kept his distance, concealing himself along the slope of the hill as he went further passed them.

The two layers of the valley were connected by a grand bridge that curved down, across the chasm that seemed to drop down into an endless void. Lloyd didn’t really know where it led to—no one did. If his father knew, he didn’t seem keen on sharing the information. Lloyd probably didn’t want to know.

He focused on the task at hand. There were more imperial guards standing sentry on the bridge, the furthest the Imperial Guard was responsible for protecting. As soon as Lloyd got passed them, he’d have a much easier time getting through the base below, as a humble servant. This wouldn’t be a problem, either.

The bridge was built with strong, wide arches all along it’s length, as if to walk beneath it was to walk through some ancient beast’s ribcage. Lloyd hurried toward it and pressed his back against one of the giant rib-like columns. The bridge was well-lit, like a lighthouse among the rocky palace layer. He glanced onto the bridge—six guards posted, standing sentry with their grand poleaxes. There was no way he’d be able to cross it directly without being seen—especially not with the bleach-white color of the stone. His black outfit would fail him, there.

But Lloyd didn’t need to go through it. He’d been taught that there was always more than one way to get through something—even if the second was breaking down the wall. On this occasion, it wasn’t anything as extravagant as that.

He soundlessly spat onto his hands and rubbed his palms together as he backed away from the column. When he judged he was far enough to get a fair start, he bent his knees.

The toed shoes absorbed the slap of his feet as he ran and leaped up, arms swinging to give him momentum. His toes landed on the solid column and dug in, and he pushed up and up, running along the length of the column. His gut lurched when he began to lose momentum—but he reached the arch of the column and quickly hugged around it to catch himself.

He took a deep breath when he made it. It was a familiar come-down—after all, this was a song and dance long practiced.

Once he’d calmed his racing heart and ensured the guards were as clueless as ever, he stood up on the slant and hopped from one rib to the next. One of the guard coughed below him. The lights of the torches continued to crackle and snap.

He slid down a column on the other side without even trying. His lips were twitching upwards again. It was almost too easy, as weightless as he felt.

The military camp started only a few paces passed the grand bridge, everything about the camp much more practical and useful in how it was built. It was also fairly quiet, but some troopers, trainees, and servants were still hard at work, running their errands. He spotted a few servants wearing clothes that were less than traditional—one wore a scarf to fight the chill and another had on cargo pants. He made sure his hood was secure, shoved his hands in his pockets, and walked into the town-like base.

He quickly found the rendezvous point—the stables on base. The horses were beautiful and only kept to be used within Shadowspire—seeing as hovering automobiles were the preferred transport just passed the crack.

Brad was already there, tapping his foot and glancing at his watch in the threshold. Lloyd hadn’t ever seen him look so stressed, the lines under his eyes deep. He felt a stab of guilt but quickly swept it away—he’d already agreed with himself that he wouldn’t let guilt hold him back for once.

Brad didn’t notice him. Lloyd put a hand on his shoulder.

Brad yelped, spinning around with his fists raising. Lloyd put his hands up, leaning back, “Whoa! It’s me!”

“Llo—!” Brad clamped his mouth shut, glancing around the empty stable. A horse whined at them. Brad wiped his face. “I thought you’d gotten caught for sure. How’d you get passed all the guards?”

“I can tell you later.” Lloyd smiled. “Did everything go okay with you?”

Brad’s grin was slow, but it appeared. He reached into his pocket and whipped out some sort of identification. “Sure did. Here—my birthday present to you. A little early, I know.”

Lloyd took it, studying the ID. There was a picture of a servant that Lloyd didn’t recognize, but they didn’t look very similar. Sure, the boy was the right age, but his hair was a dustier blond than Lloyd’s, his face was more angular, and he was scowling in the picture.

“Kazuki Li?” Lloyd frowned. “Whose is this? Did you steal someone’s card?”

“He’s a dick, it’s fine,” Brad waved his concern away. “Always shrinks out on his chores. But, more importantly, he has a few visitation days left, so you should be good to go.”

“I don’t look anything like him.”

“You kind of do,” Brad insisted, pointing at the identifying words. “No one will look that closely. The troopers don’t care much about servants. The hair will be good enough for them. Now we just have the issue of…”

Brad grimaced at him, gesturing around his face. Lloyd gave him a confused look, reaching up to wipe his cheeks, like there would be something there.

“No, man,” Brad reached into his pocket again. “The eyes. It’s a total give-away. But my friend scored these for me.”

Lloyd put his hand out and Brad popped open a small case before giving it to him. Lloyd recognized two colored eye contacts—he’d never worn anything like them before. The idea of something going in and sitting on his eyeball made him recoil.

“Do I have to?” he asked weakly.

“Dude. No one has red eyes. It’s…not normal. It’s bad enough that these probably won’t block the glowing thing you’ve got going on. I figure we can get away with it if you had the brown.”

Lloyd bemoaned the facts, but couldn’t deny them. He’d never felt self-conscious about his eyes—people within the palace didn’t have any sort of reaction to them. It was normal, there. But when Lloyd made eye contact with guests, sometimes they would flinch. He’d…usually just attributed it to him being the prince, not his physical appearance.

He…didn’t like that he was thinking about it that way, now.

Brad helped to coach him on the contacts and tears were shed over them before Lloyd was given a thumbs up.

“Sweet,” Brad joked, throwing an arm around his shoulders. “Man, lose the red and you’re just some guy. Don’t worry, you’re still a good-looker.”

Lloyd grinned. He liked the sound of that—just some guy, not a prince. For tonight, at least.

Brad, too, was wearing casual modern clothes—in jeans, a T-shirt, and a jacket zipped all the way up. He and Lloyd looked like any other servants looking to use their free passes for a night in the city.

He felt his nerves build back up when they approached the blockade on the edge of the camp, though. He had to crane his neck the closer they got—he’d never been so near the Pass before. So near the world. It was a straight shot from the ground through the wall of the mountains, two peaks that were perfectly vertical from the pathway between them. A gate had been built there, thought it was most often open, as it was then. The gate was huge and imposing, three times the size of the Black Gate, and three times as intimidating.

There was a short line of people—some had duffle bags, some still wore fully decorated hanfu or kimono, other still in the sharp military armor of the troopers. Some people were coming in from the other side, as well. Lloyd glanced nervously at Brad, both of them keep their heads down, Lloyd tugging his hood lower over his face.

The security of the valley seemed to take priority over his father’s traditions. On both gates—all four doors accepting traffic—there were scanning stations set up for one to walk through. One side in, one side out.

Lloyd curiously watched around a few of the bodies as a servant in a blue haori over his jeans walked up to the scanner. He held his ID out as he did and the scanner swooshed around him. The sharp angles of the steel beams looked unmistakably Borg Tech. That company really did make everything. Even the empire couldn’t help but take advantage of it. The company practically worked for the empire, after all. One of the many reasons why Dr. Julien’s betrayal had been quite a shock to the public and why it was so dangerous for Dr. Borg to still be on the rebel watchlist.

Lloyd saw a picture of the servant’s ID light up on one of the screens set up at the station. The trooper manning the station eyed the picture, then the servant, before waving him through with a nod.

Lloyd’s heart sunk. If he looked that closely at Lloyd, there was no way Lloyd was getting passed. He glanced around—there were no visible ways around the gates.

There had to be at least twenty troopers in light armor managing it, helms gleaming. He couldn’t get passed them all without being noticed. And if he was noticed, he was done for. He doubted they’d be able to catch him if he made a run for it, but they could certainly call someone with the ability to.

“Calm down, Kazuki,” Brad mumbled next to him. “We’re okay. Just calm down.”

Lloyd glanced over, nodding stiffly, ashamed that Brad had noticed how scared he was getting.

He couldn’t imagine what sort of punishment his father would see fit to give him for trying something like this. And Brad, of course. And they were about to get caught.

They stepped closer. Another servant stepped through. Their image appeared and they were scrutinized.

This was a bad idea.

A hand caught his. Lloyd snapped from the spiraling thoughts, looking up as Brad squeezed his fingers.

His smile was nervous, too. But his eyes said freedom.

“Stay with me, man,” Brad asked, tugging him forward. “We’re almost there. Almost there, see?”

Brad pointed. They’d reached far enough in the line that Lloyd could now see straight through the gate. This view was not a cloudy one from a distance, from the wrong angle, at the wrong time of day. Lloyd looked right out of the Veil and saw Ninjago City.

It was beautiful. Big and sparkling and alive, even at this time of night. And if Lloyd craned his neck up the right way—

The moon. He could see the moon.

The sight was captivating. It was full and bright and it was so much like looking at what Lloyd had seen of the sun. Stars speckled around it, just outside of Lloyd’s grasp, just outside of his world. So close. Almost there.

He squeezed Brad’s hand back, the hope in his heart overcoming his fear. Brad smiled and let him go.

“Next!” The trooper barked.

No one moved. The trooper turned a stink eye on Lloyd.

Next. Oh, next was him. Brad’s hand nudged his back and Lloyd stumbled forward.

“You know the drill,” a trooper near the scanning machine grumbled. “Card out. And take that hood off.

Lloyd did not know the drill, but he’d watched enough examples to be able to copy their movements. That buzzing feeling was filling him—it was almost overwhelming. So close. Almost there. He held out his card as he stepped though.

Hesitantly, he also pulled his hood back. He kept his eyes lowered, cowed, and his shoulders hunched. He did everything he could to not look confident, regal, and all the other things he’d always been taught to show. No one immediately screamed ‘hey, that’s the prince!’

The machine swooped around him. As it did, his gut swooped.

The picture of the other boy appeared on the screen, reflected in the troopers glasses. A bead of sweat dripped down Lloyd’s back.

The world seemed to slow. Lloyd could see the crawling motion of every eye going towards the image—the image of the boy who obviously was not him. And he knew with an absolute surety that if he was compared to that picture, he would be busted. Both of them would be. Even Brad looked nervous, unsure, as the trooper’s narrowed eyes finally fell onto the image.

All of the machines abruptly glitched.

The scanner stuttered, the screens flickered—and with some sort of electrical malfunction, they all blew out, sparks flying. The arm of the scanner bent with a screech of metal, the monitor screen falling over with the force of the surge.

Servants yelped and a few troopers jumped back from their equipment.

“This is why the Emperor tells us not to depend on technology!” the trooper with the glasses spat with annoyance, kicking his chair. “Useless garbage!”

“I’ll call maintenance out of their sorry racks,” One of the other troopers said. “They should be here within a half hour.”

“A half hour?” Brad complained, raising his arm. He put on the face of a concerned son. “My mom’s in the hospital right now! I can’t wait that long!”

A few of the other servants and troopers trying to get off duty grumbled and complained along with him.

Anyone attempting to travel anywhere so late at night probably had a pretty good reason for doing so. The troopers in charge of the gate seemed to understand that much and a few appeared sympathetic. Lloyd’s heart warmed at the kindness from the imperials.

It wasn’t as if it were common for people to be sneaking out of Shadowspire, rather than in. Sure, there were the occasional deserters who found the military life too difficult, but even that was rare considering the rigorous process to get stationed in Shadowspire. Realistically, these troopers shouldn’t have much to worry about. Unfortunately for them, Lloyd being there was their worst-case scenario.

“Alright, alright, everyone calm down! We’ll do this the old fashion way. Everyone will need to give their names and get a pat down!”

Lloyd had never felt such relief course through his body.

He and Brad were stepped through the other side of the gate with only a few lazy glances at their identification. Brad’s grin was brighter than ever, the lights of the incredible city before them reflecting in his eyes. It spread further than the eye could see, block after block of towers and buildings, bright lights and car horns, shapes and sights and even colors that Lloyd had never seen outside of a holoscreen.

They’d done it. Freedom lay sprawled out before Lloyd. He took his first steps into the world.

-

Ninjago City was not small nor was it subtle in any sense of the words. The population density of the city, on average, was about 25,000 people per square mile. It was denser around the city center, the population count smoothly dropping between there and the outskirts that turned into suburbs that eventually turned into the farmlands. Shadowspire was located on the east end of the city, the endless sea on the opposite side of the Veils. It spit travelers out directly onto the streets of the Capital Region’s first district, the Bonzai District, after a brief hike down a mountainous slope. Regions were made up of so many people, well into the millions, that they had been forcibly separated into these districts long ago in order to properly control the overwhelming population. Each City Region had six or seven districts, depending on the size, whereas the two Rural Regions were often made up of three or four.

Because of these sizes, each region often had their own cultures and traditions separate from the others—and even some districts were old enough to have their own holidays, like Brad’s home district did. It helped that long-term immigration between districts, and especially regions, were discouraged by the government. People traveling around was an inevitability in a city such as Ninjago with so much transportation available, but too much travel proved to spread too many unintelligent ideas, so the Empire attempted to persuade people to remain where they were. These attempts had instilled a sort of loyalty in civilians to their districts or regions. While to them, the individual governing officials made it seem as if their region and district were unique and deserving of that loyalty, every part of Ninjago’s government was following the Empire’s every whim. Harsh punishments and increased rules would come down on the Stixx District because their crime rates were high, while celebrations were held in the Gom District because regulations were always matched—but when the information flowed to the top, all of the districts were viewed as the same. And if any other district were to step out of line, they would get no more gentleness than Stixx did.

Lloyd had known conceptually that the city was big. After all, it held more than half of the world’s population and the area directly off from Shadowspire happened to be one of those densely populated. But walking within it was far different from having and idea of a concept.

Blue lanterns with silver etchings swayed in the breeze over the doorway to a business. The air smelled of something Lloyd had never smelled before—something metallic, but comforting, the concrete damp. The buildings that towered above him gave the same ominous strength of the Veil, but far more beauty. And above, far above, where Lloyd had only ever known the magical blanket that sat atop the valley, stars shone down. Standing beneath the moon, Lloyd just knew, if the city were to abruptly go dark, he’d still be able to see by it’s grace. Those stars were reflected in every high tower above them.

The city was far from that darkness. Car headlights sped passed, electrical lights shone from large, clear windows, streetlamps hung above them, making the street look like it was morning already. And the light, it wasn’t a sickly purple, rather bright, warm ones. Red, green, and yellow street signs and lights directed traffic—hovering automobiles moved in sync. Puddles splashed beneath the quiet slap of feet following some recent rain. The street lights were reflected hazily as ripples were caused. The time of night didn’t seem to matter to the amount of people walking the sidewalks. Lloyd stared at them, too, in awe. Their clothes were all so stylish and slick—like those worn on the Empire-approved television shows Kai had snuck him into the War Room to watch. One boy wore thick headphones over his head—a woman wore heels taller than Lloyd thought manageable. The idle murmur of the pedestrians was so easy, so unworried, and lacking any decorum.

A tall man with a briefcase bumped into Lloyd and he gaped up at the man as he murmured a half-hearted apology and continued down the sidewalk. No one in Lloyd’s life had dared bump into him. It was…It was great! And the guy hadn’t even cared!

“This is amazing,” Lloyd said, stars in his eyes. “This is amazing, Brad! We’re—We’re in Ninjago City! Oh, First Master. I can’t–I can’t believe this.”

Brad laughed. “Believe it! Come on—I’ve got something you’ll love.”

Brad tugged Lloyd by the arm—Lloyd had been so distracted, he hadn’t realized he’d been grabbed again. Brad had probably had to in order to keep him from walking right into the traffic, eyes trained skyward as they were.

“Can we—Are we going to ride in a hovercar?” Lloyd asked, bursting with excitement.

“Better!” Brad grinned, tugging him along faster, until they were both running. “Trust me!”

Lloyd did, his smile blinding. The pound of the solid concrete beneath his shoes was firm and otherworldly, so unlike the rock and cobblestone of Shadowspire. Water splashed up his sweatpants when they stomped through some leftover rain. Was that the smell? The metallic one that gave Lloyd the feeling of freshness, of a home he’d never seen? He laughed, throwing his head back to look up at the shining stars and the dark sky above. They ran by an apartment with gardening boxes outside of the windows—plants and vines of green were spilling out of them, real flowers of real, gorgeous colors growing fresh and new and alive. The brick of the building was red and weathered and loved. Sure, there were banners of the empire hanging off every lamppost, but that was okay. It was the perfect amount of empire, in Lloyd’s opinion, not so overwhelming, like where he’d come from.

They passed a restaurant that smelled absolutely divine, a neon sign hanging above them that said The Melting Pot. The sign for ‘closed’ was lit up, but it could have only done so just before Lloyd and Brad had passed because the fresh smell of spices and meat still clung outside—Lloyd’s eyes caught inside, seeing a waiting staff cleaning up, stacking chairs, living their own individual lives. Brad continued pulling him forward. Some kind of bank was beside it, the tallest building they’d come by yet, and Lloyd grinned as he craned his neck back to capture the entirety of the shining windows that went up what must have been a hundred stories. The bright letters at the top of the building pierced the sky as much as the moon did.

They ran and ran until a large sign broke the sidewalk, and before it, a gaping hole in the ground. They skidded to a stop and Lloyd looked down to see stairs going down into the ground, lights spilling upwards from some sort of brightly-colored cavern. The tiles of the stairway and beyond were decorated with a mosaic of light colors. People wandered up and went down the steps with purpose. Lloyd felt faint, reading the words of the sign.

“The trax?” He grabbed Brad’s shoulder. “The real trax? We’re going on it? Do we have money?”

Brad chuckled at him. “Yeah, how else are we going to get to Crowns? Capital’s curfew is soon, though, so let’s get down there.”

Lloyd let himself be pulled down—or maybe he was the one pulling Brad down, this time. He saw the trax in the holo-movies often, it had always been his dream to actually ride them! It was like he was from Ninjago City, too!

Despite it being underground, it didn’t smell musty, like the servant’s passages, or metallically chilly, like his father’s throne room did. It smelled clean, everything was bright. There were well-kept benches, and large advertisements displayed. One was some sort of technological watch build by Borg Technologies, and another was an enlistment ad for the empire—an imperial guard stood at the front of it, a salute against his chest. Bold stripes made the guard look proud and strong. A handful of people were loitering around, waiting for the next train. He and Brad weren’t spared a second glance.

There was no train on the tracks. Lloyd stepped up to the gaping pit and leaned out to look down the long, empty tube of concrete. It sure went on for a while until darkness consumed whatever else was down there. Lloyd felt the urge to jump straight down and run down the tracks to see what lay in the recesses of the tunnel. Buzzing with excitement as he was, he nearly caved to his impulses.

“Whoa,” Lloyd muttered, hearing a small echo of his voice back at him. “Hey—did you say curfew? What’s that about?”

“Careful,” Brad pulled him away from the edge. “And yeah, curfew. You can’t be out on the streets passed midnight in the city or else you could be fined or detained. In Crowns, it’ll be different, since the district has special permission for the holiday, but we’ll still need to be off the streets by two unless we want to get picked up.”

Lloyd’s face slackened. “I don’t think we want that.”

“Definitely not,” Brad agreed.

The entire station began to rumble. Lloyd flinched, grabbing onto Brad on instinct once more. It was like an earthquake had begun, getting closer and closer—a light began to appear from the darkness. Lloyd and Brad both took a few steps back, well away from the edge. The few citizens waiting around stood up. A heavy wall of air preceded the arrival, blowing Lloyd’s hair from his face.

The train was bigger and faster than Lloyd had expected. The amount of pressure that rushed into the tracks, only to pull to a screeching halt was astounding. It was as if Dreadmaw were running at a full sprint before suddenly digging her claws into the earth to stop herself. But stop, the train did—about eight cars of it. It filled the space almost to the roof of the cavern that Lloyd had just been admiring. His mouth gaped.

The train dinged, and all of the doors along the side opened at once. Brad chuckled at Lloyd, prying Lloyd’s hand off of him.

“After you, Your Highness,” Brad swept a hand towards the doors.

Lloyd felt the irrational fear of the doors closing on him, so he stepped very quickly over the threshold. Inside, everything was sleek and modern, a strip of blue going down a white cabin. All kinds of people sat in the seats—from construction workers to cubicle associates to grocery stockers. Others wore school uniforms or casual dress or pearl necklaces. Most looked down at their phones—many wore headphones. It smelled different, too—Lloyd was beginning to realize that every space in the city smelled different. It was like a brand new world only a few steps away when it was Ninjago City.

Brad quickly found a seat, but Lloyd didn’t want to sit down next to him. He stood up, wrapping his hand around the bar. The doors closed and the train jolted. The feeling of his body moving while his feet remained planted was fun. He grinned at himself as the train car swayed.

When he glanced at Brad, Brad looked amused with his entertainment.

“So, you said we’re headed for a party, right?” Lloyd asked above him. “What kind of parties do you go to? Are any of your city friends going to be there?”

“Probably. Don’t worry, though, they’re cool. Mostly. I’ve known this one guy, Gene, since forever and he’s a bit of an ass sometimes, but he’s got a good heart. Our moms still live in the same building…”

Brad chatted about his life in the city with Lloyd while they waited for the ride. He told Lloyd about his mother being a florist and how his father had been a private tutor for wealthy clients before he’d been summoned to work in the palace. Lloyd learned about how he’d spent weekends in the city with his mother for a long time and how he’d played with his friends when he came back around.

Lloyd smiled softly at the imagery Brad gave him. Sunny days and warm sidewalks and laundry strung up outside the window and playing troopers versus rebels. It sounded nice. It sounded real. More real than any of the stories that Lloyd would be able to tell about fighting pits or secret training or avoiding imperial guards just to watch a movie. He envied Brad. But more than that, he was happy for him. Brad was his friend. The nostalgic, warm smile on his friend’s face was worth the small bit of envy. The city was amazing. Now that he was here, maybe he could get some of the same childhood Brad had gotten.

Maybe Lloyd’s mom…

Lloyd banished the thought before it could fully form.

The doors rung. Lloyd perked up again, wondering if this was their stop. Brad huffed and told him there were just a few stops left. “You sure you don’t want to sit down, man?”

Lloyd opened his mouth to respond, but the words dried up when two men stepped into the train.

Not just men. Lightly armored troopers, imperial-grade guns at their sides.

Lloyd had never encountered blasters before. He knew that they existed, but firearms were a banned weapon within Shadowspire. If a trainee needed to get in hours on a gun range, they were sent to a different training base to learn them. Not even the Imperial Guard has access to any kind of blaster.

In Ninjago City, they were just as hated. The only people allowed blasters at all were imperial troopers. Lloyd didn’t even know what they looked like when fired, nor what they sounded like. Those were the kind of things that weren’t allowed in Empire-approved media.

Lloyd’s instant, chilling thought was, They’re here for us, they know. But that wasn’t at all logical. There was no way his absence had been noticed, he’d made sure of that. And if it were to be noticed, Shadowspire wouldn’t advertise it to mere troopers. He couldn’t imagine the chaos if word got out that the prince was in the city without supervision. Lloyd just gripped the support beam a little tighter and remained calm.

“Shit,” Brad murmured. He stood up.

Down the train, it looked like the troopers were taking tickets. They nudged a woman and held out a screen—the woman lazily allowed a small piece of paper to be scanned.

With Brad’s abrupt movement, a trooper glanced up toward them and narrowed his eyes. Lloyd awkwardly waved, hoping his smile didn’t look too suspicious.

“Looks like this is our stop,” Brad said, swinging around a support bar and jumping out the doors.

Lloyd followed him. The doors began to ding the moment they’d stepped off and eventually closed behind them.

“I’m guessing we didn’t have tickets,” Lloyd said dryly.

“Nope,” Brad laughed nervously. “Getting tickets also requires ID, but they have a facial scanner that might not get blown out. Nice job with that, by the way.”

The train they’d disembarked began to hum and slowly move away from them—the speed picking up as the last car passed them into the tunnel.

Lloyd frowned. “Nice job with what?”

“Whatever you did to the scanner, back at the blockade.” Brad gave him a thumbs up. “Really saved us, there. And here I thought you didn’t inherit any of your dad’s powers.”

Ha. The thought was laughable. If Lloyd had gotten even a smidge of his father’s boundless abilities, he was pretty sure something more might have happened in his seventeen years of life.

“I don’t have powers,” Lloyd insisted. “I didn’t do anything. That blow-out just…had good timing, I guess.”

Brad stared at him, his eyebrow raised in blatant disbelief. “…Good timing? That must have been one hell of a coincidence, then.”

“Yeah, it was,” Lloyd told him firmly. “Now, uh…where are we, exactly?”

Brad shrugged, then smiled. “Welcome to the Crowns District.”

He swept his gaze around. This station was significantly less well-kept than the last. It threw Lloyd into a different kind of awe. Where the walls of the last station had been a pristine white, the walls of this one was yellowed and layered in paint and more paint, and yet still had some graffiti marring a part of the wall. It wasn’t an ugly graffiti—far from it. It was a large rose, splashed with beautiful color, made by a practiced hand.

There were far more people here, as well, and many of them wore colorful and reflective outfits. It was all bright and shiny and the mood of the crowd was upbeat and excited. A girl was wearing a jacket that shone with sequins, the sparkle changing color with every movement she made. A man was wearing a shirt that seemed to have once been white—now it was splashed with colors, as if dirt had been dyed and throw his way. People were smiling, happy, having fun, joking with friends. A lot more people had piled onto the train that they had gotten off of and a few had gotten off.

There were also more troopers, standing around. Some people were getting haggled by them, having to pull out their identification. The troopers were speaking to a group of young people with their hands on their blasters—the young people were properly cowed, heads bowed and they dug through their pockets to present identification. Lloyd twitched away from the imperials, but Brad didn’t seem concerned.

In fact, he smiled in the face of the crowd, pulling Lloyd into it. “Come on, we’re only a few blocks away. We can get some rides!”

“Rides?!” Lloyd shouted over the crowd.

They stumbled out onto the street.

It wasn’t as clean and sleek and modern as the Capital Region’s—but out here, two regions away, color filled the city. The colored dirt and flower petals had been thrown across the street, over and over to create a myriad of rainbows. It seemed some sort of parade had taken place, and teams were attempting to clean it up, now, but people still filled the streets in celebration. Many lights were on in buildings, loud music coming from them, laughter and loud voices echoing through the streets.

Lloyd crouched down almost able to imagine the vibration of the street with so much human emotion around. He touched the colored dirt—a bright yellow beside an explosion of green. His fingers came back coated in it and he brought the yellow up to sniff. It smelled exactly like the chalk that Tutor Tudabone had once used to illustrate Lloyd’s lessons as a child. Chalk? The sea of people in the trax station had been covered in it. The image of such a party, haphazardly covering people with rainbows, made Lloyd yearn to have been present in the daytime.

Parties spilled from doorways and balconies, drinks thrown around, smiles everywhere. As the music filtered through, Lloyd couldn’t help the joy that he felt—there was something about the street and the party across it that was so, purely, wonderfully human. Lloyd stood, rubbing the yellow between his fingers.

“What is this?” Lloyd asked, breathless.

Brad grinned. “It’s the spring solstice, Your Highness! Here, come on, we’re already late enough as it is!”

Lloyd turned around to see Brad straddling a city-sponsored bike. The crest of the Empire was on it—though it looked pretty worn down and in need of replacing. He watched Brad stick a few coins in the slot and the hoverbike began to hum and cough. There was a whole rack of them just outside the trax station, seemingly for this purpose.

Brad flicked him a few coins. “These things are are pretty old, but they get the job done. It’s only a few blocks away! Think you can keep up?”

“Maybe you’ll need to keep up, kitchen boy.” Lloyd snapped the coins into the slot of another bike.

Brad’s mouth fell open in shock at the tease before it slowly turned up in a delighted grin. He laughed, skidded his wheel around, and took off down the colorful street. Lloyd had never ridden a bike before—but it felt as natural as breathing, pushing off and letting the hoverbike do all the work.

There was no traffic, the road apparently closed off, but he and Brad had to weave around workers cleaning up in their jumpsuits. Some of them yelled at them, but Brad only laughed, so Lloyd laughed with him. Wind rushed through his hair—it was like he was flying. Some petals fell down on them from the balconies above, and they got a few hollers from partiers, excited at their racing.

Brad’s bike was making a groaning noise and Lloyd’s was bobbing up and down, but Lloyd wasn’t afraid. For the first time, Lloyd wasn’t afraid of one single thing. It was just him, flying and laughing among neon lights and raining colors. Lloyd felt like he was alive. That the thing that made life worth living was living.

Brad whooped and swerved around a stationary mail box, throwing a grin over his shoulder. Lloyd gave an excited shout right back—and letting it loose was exhilarating. He let himself get close to a streetlight before abruptly pulling to the right, missing it. His hoverbike bumped against the curb and wobbled, but the brief rush of adrenaline felt good. His hood fluttered behind him. The air, despite all of the chalk, had never felt more crisp nor clean than it did on the bike. Lloyd was on top of the world.

A few blocks later—Brad still winning, unfortunately—his friend signaled for Lloyd to begin slowing down. The further they went down the street, the farther they got from the main parties. There was less color, and things were a little quieter, but the apartment buildings still vibrated with music and celebrations going on inside. The city was still very much alive all around them.

The building they abandoned their bikes in front of already had a few piled up beside the entrance. It was reasonably tall, but modest compared to the towers back in the Capital Region. There was a plaque beside the door that named the building Darkley's Apartments.

Brad pointed to the top of the building with a thumb and a smug look. Lloyd followed the finger up and saw that the top floor, where a penthouse seemed to be, was lit up with bright neon lights changing colors and the vibration of the music was enough to shake the bottom floor of the building. A few open windows along the street floated the sounds of other parties down. Lloyd couldn’t even begin to be familiar with whatever music was playing, but he liked it.

Brad grinned at whatever astonished look Lloyd was making. “You ready?”

“You…You’re awesome, Brad.”

Lloyd prayed that Brad couldn’t see his blush. Brad just winked and opened his mouth—

He was cut off by a short scream from across the street.

“NO, no, no, please, please!” A woman’s voice sobbed.

Lloyd flinched, touching the wall for assurance at his back while they both turned to look. Brad’s expression went hard.

Across the street, a man and a woman were being hauled out of an apartment building none-too-kindly by a pair of imperial troopers. Their colors were slightly different—the symbol of their shoulders denoting them as MP troops—members of the imperial police force. They wore helmets that resembled those of the Imperial Guard, but less extravagant and made of plastic. Two hovercars were waiting outside.

The woman was being dragged out by her hair, which was twisted in the glove of one of the MPs. She was holding onto the MP’s wrist uselessly, the civilian man trying to reach out and help her. The man was pulled further, though, cuffs already restraining his arms behind his back. They couldn’t have been older than thirty.

They must have been criminals, if the MPs were the ones taking them away. They must have done something horrible, especially, to be treated like this. Still, the immediate revulsion that Lloyd felt when he saw the trooper dragging the woman that way made him feel sick.

He hadn’t even realized he’d stepped forward until Brad grabbed his arm.

“Don’t,” Brad said quietly, sulking back near the doorway of the building. He tried to pull Lloyd back, too. “Don’t get involved.”

“I—” Lloyd gritted his teeth. “I know, I know, but—but that trooper is out of line! Even criminals shouldn’t be treated like that.”

If it was someone like his father, it would be a different story. His father had the power, and therefore the right, to decide when force like that was necessary. But some nobody trooper didn’t have that same right to decision.

“I know,” Brad sighed. “I know. But there’s nothing we can do, so…let’s just go.”

Brad didn’t look surprised. He didn’t even look horrified. He didn’t look…like anything. It was like it was background noise, a common sight. Something that happened so often, he couldn’t even use any energy feeling bad any longer.

Lloyd ground his jaw harder. But Brad was right. They couldn’t do anything. Lloyd managed to convince himself to turn away because those two had committed a crime—and he tried to convince himself it had likely been a bad one. Maybe they deserved it.

The troopers growled and shoved at the two, Lloyd’s back turned. There was the sound of a body hitting a car—and a short yelp from the woman again. Lloyd closed his eyes.

They shot right back open at the cries of two more that joined the mix. High pitched and scared—the cries of children.

Lloyd’s arm jerked in Brad’s grip as his friend dug his heels in to keep Lloyd in place.

Another trooper had emerged, holding a kicking and screaming little girl by the arm up above the ground, his other hand dragging an older boy by the wrist, who was also crying. As Lloyd watched, the two children were dropped, and the trooper loomed over them, suddenly slapping the little girl across the face. She screeched but quieted—the young boy lunged over to cover her with his body.

Lloyd felt frozen. It was just a little girl. Sure, she’d been loud, but violence?

The way the boy, shaking, was curled over her and not moving suggested he didn’t think it was over. Lloyd, too, found himself waiting to see if a boot would pull back.

Thank the First Master, it didn’t. Lloyd didn’t know what he would have done if the trooper attempted to beat two children right before his eyes.

One of the troopers snarled, “In the name of the Empire, you are both being arrested on accounts of theft and bribery! If you cannot pay for your crimes, you will be punished for them.”

The woman sobbed, shoved to the ground next to her children. Her face came up, smeared in blue chalk, a small pink blossom clinging to her nose. She reached for her children, but the trooper on her grabbed her wrists roughly and pulled them behind her back.

It was painfully, achingly silent aside from the woman’s cries—and the distant sound of a party from above them.

“You!” The word was like a trumpet in the quiet. Lloyd reflexively gripped Brad behind him. The trooper shoving the man against the hovercar was pointing directly at them. “You two! The hell do you think you’re gawking at?!”

“Nothing, sir!” Brad was quick to shout back. “Only passing by! Right, Kazuki?”

Brad tugged at his arm. Lloyd, numb, let himself be tugged back. He murmured, “Right.”

The two kids were led into a separate car from the parents. The young boy clutched the little girl tightly, not letting the trooper come into contact with her again. The woman with the chalk on her face was inconsolable, even by the man, by the time they were locked in the back of the other car.

A door closed between Lloyd and the family.

The hall was abruptly under stimulating—the air stale and everything muffled.

“What’s going to happen to them?” Lloyd asked.

Brad let go of the door handle, shaking his head. “…Military draft, if it’s a petty crime. If they refuse that, they’ll go to a camp. Since the prisons overflowed years ago, that’s where most offenders get sent.”

“…I thought labor service was only for the worst of offenders.”

Brad gave him a distasteful look. It was a strange expression on Brad. “What, the Shogun tell you that or something?”

“…No.” Lloyd shoved his hands into his pockets. “It just…seems too cruel for anyone else.”

Brad didn’t respond. Lloyd could feel his eyes on him, but couldn’t tear his gaze from the door to meet his friend’s. After all, he could already sense what he would find there. It was like he’d counted on Lloyd to see something like it, leaving only grim concern for the prince.

Lloyd’s lip twitched. Those three troopers…they were bad people. Criminals needed to be arrested and brought to justice, but that had just been unnecessary. Bad people shouldn’t have a job like that. They shouldn’t be allowed to work for his father’s empire, the empire that would partially be his in less than a month.

“Come on, man.” Brad’s hand wrapped around his arm. His smile was weak. “Party, remember? Try to forget about it. That kind of stuff…look, it happens enough that you’re wasting your effort feeling bad about it. We’re going to make this the best night ever, remember?”

“What about the kids?”

Brad squeezed his shoulder. “…What about them?”

“What will happen to them?”

“…I don’t know, man. I like to think they’ll be sent to a good family that’ll love them, I guess.”

“Is that what usually happens?”

Brad made a face that told Lloyd he was about to lie. Too flat, too sure, too quick. “…I don’t know.”

They walked down the hallway and Brad hit the button for the elevator.

-

Brad had successfully taken his own advice. After the doors of the elevator closed behind them, it was like it hadn’t even happened—well, it would have been, if not for the slight strain around his smiles. Lloyd tried in vain to do the same. Push it back, think about it later, this was supposed to be his night of freedom…but he couldn’t. The way that little boy had curled around his sister, waiting for a hit to come…it was like Lloyd’s trained instinct to raise his forearm to block a jab to the face.

The elevator dinged.

Brad grinned and squeezed Lloyd’s shoulder. “This is going to be awesome, trust me.”

The beat of the music was already intense before the doors opened. When the steel reflection split, the party poured in.

The room would have been dark if not for the flashing lights. Red and blue and green and yellow and pink spilled together, swirling from various places in the room, washing it out. Those same colors reflected on the windows the surrounded the party space, going all the way around the penthouse area. It had been cleared out to make room for all of the people. Flower petals were strewn and crushed beneath feet. People—young people like Lloyd, some of them clearly just teenagers—laughed and spoke loudly with each other. They wore outfits similar to those out on the street, with lots of color involved and reflective sequins that caught the eye. There was shouting over the music, but nothing could be louder than the beating bass than shook the entire room.

Lloyd felt it deep in his bones and he hadn’t ever imagined music could feel this way. It was like it was going right through his body and touching his qi energy, flowing the same way blood did. The pleasant light-headedness from that alone made the disturbing images he’d witnessed feel a little less sharp and heavy. The room smelled of smoke, but it was smoke completely different from the way that Kai smelled like smoke. Drinks were sloshed and Lloyd didn’t have to know a thing about the famed red solo cups to realize it, but he’d consumed enough popular media to know there was alcohol everywhere.

Discomfort was his initial reaction, but that was the trained reaction in him. Every second he remained within the thrall of the music—music with sharp edges and deep drops and weaving, intense rhythms—he cared less and less. So he breathed it in.

Was this freedom?

Whatever it was…it was new and for that fact, it was amazing.

He managed a smile. Brad clapped him on the back. His lips were close to Lloyd’s ear as he spoke loud over the music. “I’ll introduce you to some people!”

“Okay!” Lloyd still smiled.

He let Brad grab him and drag him through dancing bodies.

He should have felt overwhelmed with so many people touching him at once, it should have been suffocating, but his entire life, he’d been suffocated by everything else. His burden, his title, his father, even Kai. This? This wasn’t restriction. This wasn’t suffocation. This was all him and kids just like him.

He didn’t mind the push and pull of bodies. He wanted to stay here, to savor it, he wanted to let his body move with the music that beat right into his skull. He wanted to throw his hands up—he was even tempted, watching liquid slosh out from people’s cups. Not tonight, he conceded.

The flashing lights coated them across the penthouse. It tossed shadows to and fro against Brad’s face, but not a single angle looked bad on him.

His friend’s eyes lit up and he threw a hand up to wave as they got further into the penthouse. The music faded a little, just enough for them to not have to shout so loudly near the back of the event area.

“Tommy, hey!” Brad greeted. “Marla, Finn, you guys made it, too?”

Brad butted directly into a group of two girls and three boys, all teenagers their age. Well, Brad’s age—he was already nineteen.

The man Brad had greeted wore a backwards baseball cap and instantly grinned seeing him. “Dude! Where’ve you been, man? You know the longer you stay gone, the more we think you—”

Tommy dragged his finger in front of his neck, making a slack dead face, before he popped back to a grin and hugged Brad. Brad patted him on the back, assuring him he wasn’t dead—for whatever reason.

“Who’s this guy?” One of the girls—with sandy hair pulled back and glasses on—gestured to Lloyd, giving him a once-over.

Lloyd accidently stared at her for too long. He couldn’t help it—he rarely met other kids his age and he’d never been called ‘this guy’ before. Was he supposed to respond or was Brad? Suddenly, he forgot any word he’d ever learned.

“This’s the guy I told you about!” Brad saved him, throwing an arm over his shoulders. “He works up in Shadowspire with me, he’s cool. Kazuki, these are my friends, Tommy, Sally, Finn, Marla, and—that’s Gene.”

Insurmountable awkwardness rose up in Lloyd. Every etiquette lesson he’d ever had about greeting people rose up in his mind.

He jerked into a shallow bow, throwing Brad off-balance. “It’s nice to meet you all!”

“No, you don’t have to—” Brad tried to force him straight up and laughed nervously. “He’s—He was raised in the palace, real proper and all! First time in the city!”

“Yeah, we can tell,” Gene leaned forward, sniffing. “He’s got that upper-city smell.”

“Don’t be an ass.” The dark haired girl with the freckles—Marla—punched Gene in the arm. She smiled at Lloyd. “Welcome to Crowns, man. No better introduction to the city! How’s the spring solstice treating you guys?”

“Uh—Good, good—it’s really fun!” Lloyd confirmed loud enough to hear, relieved to not have to respond to Gene. “Way better than the Veil. That place—That place sucks!”

He could not believe he was saying these words out loud. He had to smile as he spoke, realizing he was telling a truth he’d long kept in. He’d been missing out on the sky and music and color all of this time?! There was no comparison. Some prickle of loyalty towards his home nagged at him, though.

Brad, Marla, and Tommy all laughed at his words. Tommy clapped him on the back, harder than Brad—he was strong and his grin was infectious.

“Agreed!” Marla agreed. “I think we’re going to get along just fine, ‘Zuki! Can I call you that?”

Lloyd flushed. “Sure!”

“Yeah, no way a place like that has got anything going for it! Not with him hanging around!” Finn, who was sloshing around his cup, said with a slight slur. “I bet that place stinks like shit, too!”

Sally laughed, crashing her cup against his, slightly less drunk. “For sure. Guy can’t even handle the sun! I bet it’s cause he’d turn into a wrinkled peach!”

Finn found it way too funny in the way that only drunk people could find something funny. Lloyd had seen it plenty of times around the galas in the palace thrown for the governors, generals, or other political figures of the empire.

“Who’re you guys talking about?” Lloyd asked over the music.

Finn looked at him like he was stupid, gesturing out the window with his cup—toward where the mountains of the Veil would be if it were visible. “The Emperor, ‘course. What’re you, dumb?”

Lloyd didn’t know what startled him into silence—being called genuinely dumb for the first time in his life—or hearing an insult directed towards his father for the first time in his life. Had he—Was he hearing them right?

Brad chuckled nervously beside him. “Hey, come on, guys, you know we work at the palace. Don’t make us commit treachery or something.”

“What, your friend some kind of fucking loyalist?” Gene asked, leaning forward with his arms crossed. He looked at Lloyd passed a long nose and glasses. “You’re cooler than bringing someone like that to party with us, Brad.”

“He didn’t do anything wrong,” Lloyd scowled at the young man. “I’m not—I’m not that.”

“What?” Gene challenged. “You mean you wouldn’t lick the Emperor’s boots if he showed up right now?”

Lloyd glared. “No, I wouldn’t. Would you? You seem like the kind of guy to change his tune pretty quick.”

“Oh,” Tommy laughed. Finn and Sally chortled along with him. “He gotcha with that one, Genie. Now would’ya give it a rest, already?”

Gene grumbled, but leaned back. He took the solo cup when Sally offered it to him as a show of peace. He looked away from Lloyd as he threw the drink down. Lloyd kind of felt bad for saying it in front of Gene’s friends—Kai’s influence had clearly caught him, there.

A burning shame spread in his gut for responding the way he had for a different reason, as well. He’d defended Brad without thinking, but the way he had was by disgracing his father. How could he have done that?

Brad’s friends didn’t like Lloyd’s father? Why not? Was he seen as a bad emperor, out in these farther regions?

Or everywhere? A snide voice offered. Lloyd gave Gene a stink eye—the voice had sounded like him. Gene was busy with his drink, not even turned Lloyd’s way.

“Don’t worry about him, ‘Zuki, he’s just jealous you get to hang out with Brad all the time,” Marla snickered. Brad rolled his eyes. “You want to go dance?”

She held her hand out. Lloyd glanced at Brad. Brad shrugged, but there was a knowing, smug smirk on his face. Screw it. Lloyd was free tonight.

He took her hand, nodding. “Hell yeah.”

She pulled him away to dance. Brad gave him another eager thumbs up, eyes bright. Marla made it easy to lose himself into the music. He was really only good with the classic one-two step, which she called the lame-boy shuffle, but he just laughed.

The real magic was in the closing his eyes and drifting into the beat of the music. The thrum of it paired with the throbbing lights sent him into a different world. In that world, everything was so much better.

Marla touched Lloyd’s shoulder and Lloyd thought she was just dancing beside him—then she shook him more insistently.

He opened his eyes. She leaned in close, her lips almost touching his neck. “Is tha—irlfriend or something?”

“What?” He shouted, pointing at his ear.

Louder, she repeated, “Is that your girlfriend or something? She’s been staring at us for a few minutes!”

Lloyd frowned, already shaking his head and saying, “I don’t even know any—!”

He followed her finger to where it was pointing.

His heart lurched in his chest. Instant, overwhelming, panic like he’d never felt before crashed over his head and his eyes widened—the wide-eyed gaze locked on him from across the room looked equally as shocked.

It was a miracle Lloyd had recognized her as much as it was that she had recognized him. After all, they saw each other maybe three times a year, and every time, she had always had her face perfectly done up, her hair artfully made, wearing clothes more expensive than the price of the apartment building they were in, now. Now, she was wearing a crop top, baggy, ripped pants, and there was chalk smeared on her face—red across her forehead. White hair lay down, long like Lloyd hadn’t known it was. But there was no doubt about it—Lady Harumi Kurogane was standing there.

It was like some force of fate had cleared the way between them. All the flailing bodies, the waving arms, the turning heads, it all faded to the background of their eye contact. The room was so, inescapably loud, the lights disorienting, but Lloyd could have heard a pin drop between them in that moment.

“Okay—so I’m guessing she totally is your girlfriend,” Marla said, moving a bit and shaking Lloyd from Harumi. People filled in the inexplicitly empty way between them.

“No,” Lloyd quickly said. “No, she’s not.”

Something on his face made Marla’s face whiten with concern under the monochrome lights. “Oh, shit—abusive ex, huh? Want me to go get Brad?”

“Just–Just give me a few minutes,” Lloyd said close to her ear.

She nodded, but still looked concerned. She didn’t try to stop him or follow when Lloyd began to force his way through the crowd. He may have been short, but it was easy for him to spot her glowing white hair among the other young partiers.

Her bangs were messy, sweat sticking them to her forehead. The red chalk was beginning to rub in, dyeing them pink. It was so strange seeing her in such a casual place. It was wrong. She was from the Capital Region. Why the hell would she be in Crowns—a district in the Inno Region—at the exact party that Brad had taken him to, which didn’t seem to be very Empire-friendly?

The coincidence at the gate, he could accept. But this? This was…too much for him to dismiss.

He weaved around someone laughing and stumbling and her eyes were on his again.

“Harumi,” he breathed. Not loud enough to hear, but she watched his lips as he said it, eyes flickering back up to his eyes. Her eyes sparkled with surprise—and delight, like this was a fun happenstance. Over the music, he shouted, “What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean?” She shouted back, dancing closer to him. “It’s a party! I’m here to party!”

He begrudgingly stepped closer. “I mean, what are you doing at this party? The same one I’m at?”

“Yes, I really can’t believe you’re actually here,” she laughed, dancing closer still, until she could drape her arms over his shoulders. She spoke, lips touching his jaw. “How did the prince find himself in a place like this?”

She’d said it quietly, for him alone, but he still stiffened, glancing around like someone would overhear. He childishly imagined a bunch of these teenagers jumping him at once, shouting things about how badly his father smelled. The image was dashed when she smiled close to his face, body still swaying as she held onto him.

“Answer my question first!” He demanded, a harshness to his voice that he hadn’t meant to slip in.

She leaned back, a pout on her lips so unlike her normal, put together self. Was she drunk?

“Okay, okay. Brad invited me. I didn’t think you would be here, too. Oh, is that how you got here? I didn’t know that servant could be so creative!”

She laughed. He tilted his head between her arms, but he felt some of his suspicion sinking. He didn’t know how else she would know the exact party to go to, nor did it seem like she was here for any nefarious reasons.

What was he thinking? Why would she be? She was one of his best friends. Besides, even if she was trying to pull something, appearing at a party so anti-Empire would look even worse of her than it would of Lloyd, who couldn’t properly have known what kind of party this was seeing as he’d never left the Veil before.

Lloyd’s ugly jealousy of his father’s trust in her was making him unreasonable. He shook his head at himself. It was weird to think of her and Brad—what, texting?—but it wasn’t impossible. Maybe they were better friends than she’d been portraying a few days prior. After all, they’d been so close as children.

He let himself relax. He didn’t lean close to her to speak, though, not like he had with Marla. “I didn’t know you liked parties!”

“I could have said the same about you, Your Highness!”

He glanced around again, slapping a hand over her mouth. He felt her smile beneath his palm. “Forget the titles, please!”

“Oh, right, sorry,” she said, closer to him again. Her breath was hot against his face. “Slip of the tongue. But you don’t have to worry about that again, I was just about to leave.”

Lloyd frowned. “Already?”

Her lips touched his ear. “I’ve been dancing for a while. I’m getting a bit tired of it. But it was good to see you! I’m glad you’re getting some fun in while you can, you deserve it.”

“…Thanks!”

She was already pulling away. Before she disappeared into the crowd she mouthed something Lloyd couldn’t hear over the crowd, then winked at him. Her long, tangled hair whipped around her as she turned.

“What?” He yelled, stepping closer. “I can’t hear you!”

Then, she was gone.

He debated going after her—it was just so strange—but a hand landed on his shoulder.

Lloyd flinched, turning at the full grab—but it was just Marla, who was giving him confused, concerned eyes.

“Are you okay?” She asked loudly. “Who was that?!”

Lloyd glanced into the crowd. He leaned close to assure her. “No one. I thought she was someone else. She’s gone now.”

“She was totally creepy, so sorry if you do know her!”

Lloyd cracked a smile. Marla offered for them to go back to dancing and he took her up on it.

Later, they rejoined the others, who had integrated further into the party. Tommy and Brad had been wrapped into some sort of ping-pong game involving small cups full of what Lloyd had learned was beer. Beer-Pong—a real sport, he was told by Finn and Sally, who were hanging off of each other. He had no choice but to believe them.

Lloyd cheered for Brad while Marla supported Tommy from the other side—but she was way too intense about it and kept yelled at him for screwing up. Lloyd had to laugh every time because of the over the top way she did it—Tommy also getting drunker and drunker with every miss, having to take one of his own cups and throw it back. Brad was surprisingly good, but missed his fair share as well.

Marla pounded Brad on the back and told him he was lucky he was Lloyd’s DD or else they’d make him drink like Tommy. Sally offered Lloyd a drink more than a few times, even trying to get him to share her own drink, but he kept turning them down. He was going to have to do some serious stealthing into the most secure place in the world, there was no way he was going to do that buzzed.

Gene bumped him at one point and begrudgingly offered to play him in dry ping pong next—Lloyd looking up to see Tommy urging him on like a proud soccer mom forcing her kid to apologize. Lloyd accepted the challenge anyway. The cups were filled with water for him and Gene.

Every time Lloyd landed a ball in—which was every single time, without a miss—everyone around the table cheered. More and more people joined to watch as Gene struggled against him. Lloyd caved and missed a few on purpose until it was a much closer game. In the end, he gave up the win to Gene—the smile on the other boy’s face worth much more than some praise. Gene flicked Lloyd’s head and told him he knew that he’d let him win—so they’d have to play again to have a real game another time.

Lloyd’s heart got warm with the implied ask to hang out with them again. Brad’s friends really liked him! It was almost like they were his friends, now! They were funny and nice and Tommy liked to give hugs to everyone and Marla was ready to defend him and Sally just wanted him to have a good time—

And they all hated Lloyd’s father. If he were to bring up the prince, would they admit that they hated him, too?

He glanced over at Brad, who was laughing at something Marla had said close to his ear. Did Brad feel the same way? Had he hated Lloyd’s father all this time? For keeping his parents apart, for making him continue his father’s contract in Shadowspire after his sudden death? Did…Did Brad hate that Lloyd was the prince? Would that title eventually make him hate Lloyd?

He drifted off to one of the windows thinking about it. He was getting a bit tired, anyway, even with the water cup in his hand. Over by the windows, things were quieter.

“Hey,” Marla stepped up next to him. “You look like you’re deep in thought and you haven’t even had one drink.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Marla…are you happy?”

“Like, right now? Or in general? How deep are we going here?”

“In general,” Lloyd gestured with his cup out the windows. “With the world. Is it…Do you think most people are happy with their lives?”

She snorted, like it was obvious. “Probably not. Who can be happy with the amount of rules and regulations we have to always follow or else go be sent off to be a slave? Kind of hard to see a happy future in something like that. There’s a reason everyone loses their minds on the only holiday we get to celebrate.”

Lloyd brought his cup up and bit the plastic lip of it. He took a long drink.

“Oh…that’s cool,” she said quietly. He almost didn’t hear.

He looked up to see her gazing out the window. He followed her gaze to the side of a building facing their way. It was flat and a bit weathered with age—but the wall itself was not incredible. No, that would be the beautiful piece of graffiti that had been painted on the side of it.

It was a scene that most certainly was meant to inspire hope. It was a figure, wrapped in green, all the way from toes to head—a green gi. Golden swirls surrounded it, painted to look as if they were glowing within the neon lights of the city. The figure was poised as if throwing a flying kick, like the ones Lloyd had learned from Kai. It was an inspired piece of art—but something about it felt like…more.

Lloyd was mesmerized by it, more so than anything he’d seen in the city that day. He exhaled, asking, “What is it?”

“Oh, I guess you wouldn’t know,” Marla tilted her head his way. “You being from the castle and all. There’s this…old legend. People say it’s as old as the Empire and Garmadon himself. One day, someone will come and take down the Emperor and free all of Ninjago. I don’t really know what that’s supposed to mean—you can find a different story about it in every region. Hell, every district, probably. The Green Ninja’s more like a bedtime story, these days—my mom used to tell me about it when I had nightmares. ‘Don’t worry, this big-time hero will come one day and solve all of our problems.’ It’s a nice thought when you’re a kid, but the world doesn’t work that way once you’ve grown up, you know?”

Lloyd stared at the graffiti painting. “The Green Ninja? It…sounds familiar.”

“I’m sure you’ve heard it in some other way.” Marla shrugged. “They used to sneak references into old movies and stuff. But…it’s viewed as a symbol of the rebellion. Ever since the Emperor’s military began their war on ‘insurrection,’ it became a lot more dangerous to do stuff like that. No one wants to put a toe out of line.”

Lloyd knew exactly what she was talking about—from the other side of it. The war on rebels was a campaign to wipe the Empire free of terrorism and perpetrators. That’s what Kai had said when he’d created it and began hunting any rebellion down in earnest. But he only went after the rebels who were actually hurting people because Kai was a good person. He wouldn’t waste time going after some random people for doing some graffiti. That must be some other corrupt faction of the MPs.

Maybe it was about time the Empire turn their efforts from the mysterious and few rebels and instead put their focus into rooting out the corruption that seemed to grow like a mold in every corner. Kai would love that, Lloyd thought—he hated bullies and people who abused their power. He was always complaining about the dirty politicians that Lloyd’s father didn’t let him remove. Maybe Lloyd would propose it when he went back.

Speaking of which—Lloyd turned to Marla. “Hey, do you know what time…?”

Something outside the window caught his eye. It was just over her shoulder. An uneasy feeling swept through him—not because he knew what he was seeing, but because some force like the same one he felt in his father’s presence or Kai’s presence, brushed his consciousness. It was like qi, but…twisted.

There were a few other murmurs, people drawn to the window at the strange sight. Two dark…somethings were leaping across buildings, only a single bound all it took, suggesting massive strength. They looked humanoid…almost.

Lloyd narrowed his eyes as Marla pressed her hand against the glass beside him.

Their silhouettes were strange—but familiar. And the figures weren’t completely shrouded in darkness—no. Each had a pair of glowing blue orbs, focused directly at the penthouse. Lloyd swore, even from a distance, he could see them looking right at him.

“Oh, shit,” Lloyd whispered.

The figures didn’t slow as they leapt onto the building just across from the penthouse—their boney limbs snapping faster than any human could.

Lloyd lunged at Marla, screaming over the music, “GET BACK!”

Marla latched onto him as he took them both to the ground—and the glass behind him shattered.

People screamed and some bodies were thrown back from what had been the window. Kids reached out to catch their friends—people pulled others back, away from the east side. Now, with a gaping hole in the penthouse, the wind began to whip and tear in. The music glitched and cut out and the flashing lights suddenly froze on the color they happened to be on—a purple light that made Lloyd feel sick to his stomach.

Lloyd was disoriented, having gone down hard. Marla groaned and Lloyd rolled off of her, careful to keep his body between her and the window. He grabbed his head to ease his dizziness. Small flecks of glass had cut through the right side of his face—it stung.

People were still screaming behind him and rushing for the exit, some people falling—but some frozen in abject horror. The ping ping ping! of people jabbing the elevator button was insistent. Before the crowd, two hulking beasts were slowly rising up after crashing right through the window without so much as a struggle. The menacing axes were larger than anyone there—the gnarled, cracked bones bare to the world from face to foot. They nearly filled out the window—which was ten feet tall and as wide.

One of them spoke—Lloyd couldn’t tell which. But the cracking, gritted words of Skullian spoken sent a few of the teenagers collapsing to their knees in terror.

“Holy fuck, holy fuck,” Marla whispered behind Lloyd, frozen on the ground. “This isn’t real.”

‘Skulkin’ and ‘bonemen’ murmured through the petrified crowd. No one had ever seen one in the city, not anyone this young. The Bone Army hadn’t been around the city in more than twenty years.

The skeleton giant with the misshapen spikes protruding from his skull stepped forward. People screamed, pressing away. Then it was just Lloyd standing before them, over Marla, who was struggling through her shock to get to her feet. She was breathing hard.

The skeleton pointed forward. It’s boney finger landed right on Lloyd, menacing in every movement.

“You,” Chopov ground emotionlessly. “Come.”

The horrifying echo of their words was followed by the sound of a body thumping somewhere across the room. A shout of alarm followed the fainting.

“Okay, okay,” Lloyd slowly put his hands up. His hands were shaking, his voice was shaking. “Here I am, I’m coming. Just—Just take me and we’ll leave everyone else alone. Right?”

“No, ‘Zuki, don’t!” Tommy shouted from the crowd—Lloyd didn’t risk glancing back. “Those—Those are bonemen, they’ll strip your skin! Don’t do it.”

“It’s fine,” Lloyd put a hand out behind him, stepping forward. “It’s fine.”

Lloyd had a good guess that it was their orders to bring him back by any means necessary. Chopov and Nuchal didn’t have feelings, they didn’t have logic—if they thought for a second that Tommy or anyone else was trying to get in the way of their orders, they would deal with the problem as permanently as they could.

Fingers wrapped around his wrist.

“Kazuki—!”

The horror that gripped his heart slowed the world to a detail he wished he hadn’t had. His eyes went back faster than his head could turn—Marla had regained her balance and was holding onto him, pulling him away from Chopov. The slow motion of seeing the fear in her eyes overcome by defensiveness—defensiveness of Lloyd—might have been the worst thing he had ever seen.

Lloyd tried to shove her back in the same instant he felt the touch—

Faster than human eyes could follow—a shink of metal being the only warning she got—Nuchal’s axe blade appeared between Lloyd and Marla.

Blood burst in his face and Marla screamed. Bloodcurdling, gut wrenching, screamed.

A hand, it’s fingers forcibly loosened, went slack from Lloyd’s arm and thumped to the ground. The severed end of it began to leak blood immediately.

Lloyd’s ears rung. He stared down at the girl as she clutched her gushing stump, covered in more and more blood every second as it ran down her T-shirt and sprayed her face. It looked like it was a deep, deep black under the misfortunate violet lighting. She didn’t stop screaming, and neither did the horrified witnesses of the partiers. Lloyd’s ears rung.

Tommy ran forward, grabbing her by the shoulders, trying to pull her back as panic overtook the crowd at the sight.

He felt Chopov’s stone cold fingers slide into the hem of his hoodie and hold on, crumpling the back of it into a large hand. Lloyd’s feet were ripped out from under him and vertigo overtook his senses as he was thrown out into the open air—luggage to the two monsters as the thoroughly ruined party was left behind.

-

The quiet flutter of the banners in the hall accompanied the crackle of the torches in the otherwise dead silent throne room. Chopov and Nuchal were holding still enough that they did not creak nor rattle on either side of the dais. The bed of flames that usually placed a wall between the throne itself and those beneath it had died down to glowing magenta coals. Kai, in the light armor and gi Lloyd had left him in hours before, stood to the right of the great throne, his arms crossed, expression completely unreadable. He wouldn’t even look down at Lloyd, not even a glance, no wink this time around. Lloyd could only imagine the disgust he felt inside. That was enough to make him want to vomit. Any of the joy or excitement or the hope that had fluttered in his chest at any point that night was completely squashed by the way Kai was ignoring him—putting up the front of the Shogun rather than be angry with him, be upset. No, it was just the weight of his palpable disappointment.

But Lloyd could have handled that if it were all. He could have found a way to make it up to him, to fix this, to fix everything. Kai would tell him how to make it better.

Lloyd would get no such mercy from the Emperor.

Never before had Lloyd addressed his father while he groveled on his knees and his father sat in his grand throne of bone. Not when he’d shaved the eyebrows off of Governor Raiden—not when he’d poisoned their entire stock of dragon meat—not even when he’d attempted to climb the mountain behind the palace in the midst of a tantrum, only to fall and break his arm.

His father did not tell him to rise. Lloyd barely dared to breathe under the weight of his gaze. Unlike the imaginary weight of Kai’s opinion of him, Lloyd could literally feel the turmoil of rage within his father, bleeding out into his domain. The fact that that amount of anger was focused on Lloyd was almost beyond belief. His father got angry, but never at Lloyd. His father punished people, but he didn’t punish Lloyd. His father scared people—but he’d never scared Lloyd, not really. Sure, the possible actions his father could commit that were not directed at Lloyd—such as his possible blame of Brad or hostility towards Lady Harumi—that had scared him before. But this—this was different. This was raw prey instinct.

Lloyd had never had to fear for his life when Kai was in the room—and he’d never had to feel threatened by his father, the only person Kai could not defeat. Those two fundamental ideas in his life breaking apart were causing a domino effect of panic deep in his chest and spreading to his very limbs. He couldn’t breathe.

His face still stung from the cuts of glass and Marla’s blood was making his face itch as he cowered in the most submissive of bows. He squeezed his hands into fists on the carpet, pressing his forehead into the ground. He couldn’t let his father see him trembling. And he didn’t want Kai to see him trembling.

The air above Lloyd shifted. He stiffened, closing his eyes when the presence of his father abruptly appeared standing above him.

He heard the shift of the fabrics and felt the royal haori flutter over his clenched fist as his father gracefully crouched down.

“Oh, my son.” His voice rumbled across the room.

Lloyd didn’t flinch, but he wanted to. His eyes were beginning to prick with unshed tears.

“Lloyd,” his father hummed patiently. “Look at me.”

The pressure over him felt like the bottom of the ocean. Not only was he being crushed completely under it, unable to move, but he was also being suffocated. Really suffocated, the kind that was inescapable, the kind that meant death at the end.

But Lloyd was his father’s son. He slowly looked up, fighting the burden. It hurt—it hurt to fight. The tears in his eyes threatened to spill as his father locked his red eyes on Lloyd’s—temporarily—brown ones.

“My dear son.” One of his father’s hands reached out and cradled his cheek—another, also a right hand, carded through his hair. The contact almost made his tears spill out—Lloyd squeezed his eyes shut to keep them in. “You must know that I would never hurt you.”

Lloyd didn’t—couldn’t—say a thing. The pressure was too intense. He had to pour all of his effort into keeping his breathing. The gentleness of the hand running through his hair did nothing to calm his rapidly beating heart.

“But you must also know that I cannot let this go unpunished,” his father continued, his grip remaining as soft, as if Lloyd was a delicate thing. Lloyd opened his eyes, fear curling around his bones, dreading what sort of punishment his father would find fitting for him. “I have only ever asked one thing of you—that you would remain safe, where you could be kept safe. Because, Lloyd, you are all I love in this wretched world. You must know that more deeply than anything.”

“I do,” Lloyd managed to say, his voice like that of a child’s. “I’m sorry. Father, I’m so sorry.”

“I know,” the Emperor hummed, stroking his hair. “I know. But apologizing is not equal to the lesson of actions and consequences. For every failure, there must be a repercussion. Do you understand this, as well, my son?”

Lloyd choked. “…Y-Yes.”

“Good. Then you understand the way that you have forced my hand. I had hoped it would never come to this. After all, I cannot bare to see you in pain. Shogun.”

The sharp snap held none of the softness as the words directed at Lloyd did. Lloyd flinched at this, the anger, finally, and braced himself, but nothing came. Instead, Kai wordlessly walked off of the dais, his step down silent—so unlike the way the ground shuddered beneath him when he’d arrived in his armor. He dropped to his knee behind the Emperor, properly bowing his head.

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Kai’s voice sounded devoid of emotion. Over his father’s shoulder, his empty eyes stared into nothing.

His father let go of Lloyd as gently as he had soothed him before standing up to his full height. Kai didn’t move. His father crossed his four arms, remaining with his face to Lloyd. Though he was addressing Kai, his eyes did not waver from Lloyd’s face. As if the words were meant for his son as much as they were meant for his commander.

“My son is young and naive. He cannot be faulted for following his own childish whims into danger. The blame cannot be solely placed on his shoulders—do you agree?”

“I agree, Your Majesty. All fault is my own. I allowed this oversight while it was my duty to protect the prince and no one else’s. Should any punishment be dealt, I would humbly request to accept it.”

“Yes,” his father rumbled, tone dark. “You would. Remove your armor, commander.”

Kai stood up behind his father and didn’t hesitate before unstrapping his gauntlets and letting them hit the carpet with a dull thud-thud. He unwrapped his hands, then—the unwinding sharp and precise and practiced the fabric spooling on the ground over the leather gauntlets.

Lloyd looked between Kai and his father. His father was still eyeing Lloyd, bitter disappointment in his gaze. Lloyd didn’t understand.

“Wa—What?” He grabbed the train of his father’s haori. “Wait—What are you doing?”

Kai’s shoulder guards hit the ground next. He reached to his sides and unhitched his leather chest plate in two smooth motions before pulling it over his head by a strap and dropping it.

Horrible dread made Lloyd’s stomach drop along with it.

“Father,” Lloyd tugged at the dark haori. His father met his wide gaze impassively. “Wait. Wait, he didn’t—he didn’t do anything wrong. It was my choice, it was my fault, not his. He didn’t know.”

Kai didn’t stop. He untied the dark belt of his gi, releasing the hold of the outer uwagi and letting it join the pile at his feet. Down to the white under-wrap, he loosened it, tugging it free of his shoulders, and letting it hang at his waist where his pants still secured it.

When he was finished stripping to his bare chest, he side-stepped his armor and kneeled upright on the carpet. And he waited.

The Emperor reached for his own belt and began to unravel one of the decorative ropes that circled his grand inner-robes. As he did, he turned away from Lloyd, toward Kai.

Lloyd didn’t let go of his father’s haori, forcing his father to drag him along—his father didn’t even seem to notice as the friction of the carpet burned at Lloyd’s sweatpants and his knees slammed up and back down into the ground. He was no weight to his father.

“No, please, Father, please, don’t do this,” Lloyd begged, pulling and pulling and getting nowhere. He scrambled to his feet, still clinging onto his father’s robe. “Punish me. I was the one who left! Father—I–I’m begging you! Father!”

The Emperor didn’t stop until Lloyd put his body between him and Kai. Lloyd put his hands up, the tears he’d managed to hold back not a minute earlier threatening his vision.

His father had completely unraveled the rope to hold within his hands—there were metal studs weaved into it. A few of them seemed sharp. Now, it was all too clear what it was—the flexible hilt held in his father’s hands. Lloyd’s nausea threatened like no other time before.

“Lloyd. For every second you waste my time I will add another lash. You may sit over there.”

Lloyd stared at him.

His father sighed. “Thirty-seven.”

“Wait—”

“Thirty-eight.”

“No, no—” Lloyd winced.

“Thirty-nine.”

“Please!” Lloyd burst out. “I’ll do anything, please—”

“Forty.”

“Father!” Lloyd’s tears began to spill over. It was too much to hold back any longer.

“Your Highness, that’s enough.”

Lloyd’s shoulders stiffened. He looked back, where Kai was sitting on his haunches with his hands in his lap, utterly calm. Well, maybe not so—he did sound a bit annoyed. Lloyd could hardly believe it.

Or perhaps he could. This was all Lloyd’s fault. This was all Lloyd’s fault and he was making it worse and Kai was facing the burden of punishment for him.

“Forty-one.” His father tilted his head far above Lloyd.

Lloyd clapped a hand over his mouth to keep himself from being sick. There was no doubt the both of them could see the way he was shaking now—but how much did that matter, when his tears were so much more obvious? He was weak. Lloyd squeezed his eyes shut, his breath catching—and he took a backwards step out of his father’s way. He was weak. This was all his fault. And he could do nothing but make it worse.

He could do nothing.

His father stepped back up onto the dais. He did not have to scramble or clamor despite the height of it—one simple stride of his was enough, his body long and powerful. He let the length of the whip fall from his hand, quietly slapping against the black stone of the platform.

Lloyd sunk to his knees, desperately wanting to rub at his tears so that he would not be blind to this—but he couldn’t move. He’d caused it. He did not deserve to be protected from it, to avert his gaze, like Kai had insisted for many years when it came to the violence and bloodshed of Shadowspire.

“Lloyd,” his father rumbled.

Lloyd twitched, curling his hands into fists—don’t let him see—and looked up through his choking tears.

His father gave him the same, warm smile that he’d always reserved for Lloyd. The one that reminded Lloyd that he was loved, that he was safe, that this was his father who would never hurt him.

“Count for me. I believe the two of us decided on forty-one. If you would like it to remain there…count.”

Lloyd’s body tried to heave. He choked to swallow back the bile, falling forward on his hands. He watched his father raise the whip, the expression on his face bored and lazy. Like this didn’t matter. Like this was nothing.

Lloyd’s eyes fell onto Kai and he tried to pour all the apology and guilt out of his eyes, sobbing to convey just how sorry he was for all he’d done.

With the Emperor out of view—Kai smiled at him, a slight, weary smile.

The crack of the whip distracted Lloyd from his own pained disbelief.

Kai’s face twitched, his teeth gritting loud enough for Lloyd to think he could hear and the hands on his thighs immediately curled into tight fists. But as Lloyd’s father was pulling the length of studded rope back, Kai made a strange face at Lloyd. It was an unimpressed frown and the slight shrug of his shoulder—as if to say, eh, that was nothing.

Lloyd knew better than that. He stared at Kai, tears rolling down his father. His stupid, idiot, brother was trying to reassure him.

This was all his fault.

“Lloyd,” his father hummed, a lit to his voice that was sorely out of place. “I will forgive you for your first time, but the number you are looking for is ‘one.’ Let us try again.”

The whip cracked.

Lloyd sobbed. “One!”

CRACK!

On two, blood was drawn. Kai’s eyebrow twitched, as if his grimace hadn’t twisted his face.

On four, Kai winced and began to tremble. He stopped trying to give Lloyd smiles.

CRACK!

On six, the whip cut into his shoulder. Lloyd couldn’t see the other wounds but for the flick of blood off the whip, but that one, he could see. Ripped skin and muscle beneath.

On ten, blood began to pool.

Fifteen, Kai began to sway.

Twenty—Lloyd’s father began to laugh. Lloyd stared up at the Emperor in horror, but the laugh was not to further torture Lloyd. No, his father seemed to have forgotten that Lloyd was even in the room. His glowing eyes were alight with delight, focused on the mess of blood that Lloyd could only see the edges of.

CRACK!

On twenty-one, Lloyd vomited. His lost dinner sunk into the carpet beside him, splattered on the knees of his rug-run sweatpants. He hugged himself because that was the only way he kept himself upright, the hot-cold flash of shivers that followed throwing up trying to take him.

Kai never screamed. But on thirty-five, he collapsed.

“Stop,” Lloyd croaked.

Kai had fallen forward, onto his chest, his eyes closed and unmoving—he had passed out. From pain or blood loss, Lloyd couldn’t know. The latter, he brazenly guessed, considering Kai was horrifyingly adept at ignoring the pain. But Lloyd’s airway was strangled when the full extent of the damage being done was revealed to him.

There was so much blood pooled between the gouges of ripped, peeled skin. Like the common phobia of a cheese grater being dragged across a finger, come to life. Kai’s white under robes were no longer white and his gi was soaked with it all. He didn’t even look alive anymore.

Lloyd shakily tried to get his feet under him, to stumble towards him—

CRACK! The weave rope cut a new line across the gore.

Lloyd screamed, despite himself, lunging forward. “Stop! STOP! He’s passed out already!”

His hands landed on bloodied shoulders. The touch of it, the wet warmth, thicker than water, smelling of insides that shouldn’t be outside—Lloyd’s nausea came back with a fury, making him light-headed. Oh, First Master. He was shaking so badly. Lloyd was going to pass out.

“Thirty-six,” his father rumbled for him. “Move aside.”

Lloyd looked up at him in utter disbelief, a sob choking him. “Wha–What?”

“Move aside, boy!”

For the first time in his life, Lloyd felt the cold touch of his father’s oni power curl around his body. It felt like a hundred small needles were piercing every inch of his skin, the cold of the dead seeping into his through the holes they left behind. He gasped, and he swore, his heart stopped in the shock of that moment.

He was shoved back by the invisible, swirling force, arms pinned to his sides. His knees slammed into the ground, again, and held there, as if hands were pressing down on him—cold, unforgiving hands.

The whip came down five more times. His father’s gleeful grin was nothing other than sick and twisted. Kai’s body twitched and jerked, then went still under the assault.

And Lloyd was so, completely, utterly, powerless to stop it.

When it was over, Lloyd’s hyperventilating through his sobs was closing his vision in on himself. He almost didn’t mind—as long as it meant that he couldn’t see the horror-inducing scene that lay before him. As long as, when he woke up, he could forget all of this, and it would all be a dream.

Instead, the tendrils of oni power released him. Lloyd collapsed onto his hands and knees, dry sobbing as his body ran out of the hydration required for tears. It hurt so much worse than the salty burn of them. The blood on his hands smeared over the purple carpet.

“Oh, my son. My poor son.”

The bloodied end of the whip appeared beside Lloyd’s hand, his father’s robes behind it. The studded rope shifted as his father slowly winded it back up into a manageable handful. The Emperor didn’t seem to notice when the dry whip turned to a bloodied, skin-splattered end. He continued to wind it, smearing his hands with red over the black void of his own skin.

His father crouched down and Lloyd couldn’t stop himself from sobbing, much less move away. His father’s hands touched him—cupping his jaw and running a hand through his hair. The wet feeling of blood had Lloyd heaving once more.

His father tilted his face up. All Lloyd saw was that smile, the one reserved for his son, the one that had promised Lloyd that he would always be safe and loved.

“I would never hurt you,” his father firmly reminded him. “But I hope you can understand the weight your actions carry. I am sorry to see you in such pain. I love you very much. Do you understand this, Lloyd? How much I love you?”

Lloyd forced himself to nod, desperate to escape his father’s grasp as quickly as he could.

“Good.” The Emperor patted his face with that smile before he rose up. “I believe I will make a request for salmon with the kitchens for tomorrow morning. I hope that is acceptable. I do recall your love for ‘fish-sticks’ as a child.”

His father cleaned the blood from his hands with his black robes, wiping over the silver lace with red.

The banners and torches in the room fluttered with the brief breeze his father caused as his footsteps walked away from Lloyd. And, just like that, he was gone.

Lloyd scrambled across the ground. Kai was as unmoving as he had been before—not even a groan suggesting life. Lloyd couldn’t see any rise or fall of his back—he couldn’t even look at his back without feeling woozy. The blood had splattered up into Kai’s hair and on his cheek, though.

“Kai, Kai, hey,” Lloyd choked, touching his friend’s pale face and rushing a shaking hand to find his pulse point. But he was shaking too much and couldn’t find the spot and he cursed and his voice broke and he was getting blood on his hands— “Kai, wake up! Kai! You said you’d always stay by my side, you liar! Why did you do that? Why did you ask for my—It was my punishment! Why did–did you have to—?!”

Lloyd screamed in grief, his voice echoing in the room.

He grabbed Kai’s uwagi and laid it over his back to stop the bleeding, but where the hell was he supposed to put pressure?! He picked a spot, pressing his hands down—Kai made a noise of pain, even unconscious as he was.

You make everything worse! Lloyd’s brother was going to die, why wasn’t anyone coming?!

Lloyd tried to lift under Kai’s shoulders, but he was heavy and bigger than Lloyd and Lloyd was so weak. Even after all his training, after everything, he was just weak.

“I’m going to get help,” Lloyd choked. “I–I’ll be back, I’ll—”

Lloyd’s throat closed up.

He ran. Feet pounding against the carpet. Arms reached out—flinging the doors to the throne room open. His mouth was already forming to call for the guards that should have been stationed just across the Grand Hall—but their posts were empty. The hallway was quiet, echoing with only the flickers of the violet fires against dark stone.

Desperation crawled up his stomach. Lloyd screamed.

“SOMEBODY HELP ME!”

Lloyd’s knees shook under him and he wanted to sink into the ground—weak—he couldn’t do this, he couldn’t do anything, he couldn’t even think—useless—what the hell was he supposed to do?

The doors to the courtyard beyond the guards’ posts burst open, both of them pulled back by two imperial guards. It was as if they had been prepared, waiting only for Lloyd’s signal. At the sight of Lloyd, their faces went slack with shock—their prince, in a hoodie and sweats, sobbing, eyes bloodshot, covered in blood and on the verge of collapse.

Between the two guards, Chamberlain Noble was in his bedclothes with his spectacles askew, expression twisted up in emotion unlike Lloyd had ever seen. Lloyd didn’t even consider thinking about how strange it was that the chamberlain had been in the courtyard at this time of night. The much taller and more hulking form of Captain Hutchins of the Imperial Guard charged in right after the Lord Chamberlain.

“Your Highness!” the chamberlain rushed toward him, reaching out to grab onto Lloyd’s arms and keep him upright.

Lloyd latched onto the chamberlain’s robes, fresh tears forcing their way from his body, a sob breaking his speech. “Chamberlain, help him, please, oh Master, this is all my fault, I did it, I did this—!”

The chamberlain kept in control, as unsurprised as he was concerned. His expression went firm and he glanced at Captain Hutchins, nodding at him sharply. Lloyd tugged at the chamberlain’s clothes, desperate to pull him to the throne room, to have him fix this.

The Captain sharply ordered the guards to stay where they were and didn’t hesitate in marching for the throne room. Lloyd panted, pulling the chamberlain back towards it.

“Breathe, boy, you must breathe,” the old man was insisting, but he let Lloyd pull him along. “Are you hurt?”

“I—No, no, I’m okay, I’m fine,” Lloyd gasped. “It’s Kai—wait, no, we—we need their help!”

“No, we cannot,” the chamberlain muttered as Lloyd tried to point at the guards—they’d be strong enough to carry Kai to the palace physician as fast as possible! “The Shogun has a reputation to maintain—as do you.”

Lloyd didn’t care to argue it when the chamberlain pulled him back into the throne room and shut the door behind them.

Captain Hutchins was by Kai’s side in an instant, kneeling beside him. For being at the end of middle aged, the veteran moved with the grace and speed of someone much younger. And of someone who had done this before. He only wasted a second peeling up the uwagi and surveying the damage—the grimace on his face was equal to those Kai had made while he was being whipped.

The captain murmured as he found Kai’s belt and began to feed it under him. “…quite a number on you this time, Commander.”

Lloyd dropped to his knees opposite the captain, not caring about the way his knees protested. The bloody pool was getting wider with every minute—what if Kai had died in the time between Lloyd leaving his side and getting help? What if he had left Kai to die alone?

The captain tied the belt at Kai’s back and Kai groaned, but the uwagi was kept in place.

“Your Highness—if you would help me,” the captain snapped, grabbing one of Kai’s limp arms and pulling him upright. Kai’s unconscious face twisted in agony and he gagged.

“No—We’ll hurt him,” Lloyd choked.

“It’s this or he bleeds out,” Captain Hutchins growled impatiently. “Now put his other arm over your shoulder and lift.”

Lloyd was much shorter than the fully armored captain, but he hastily followed instructions. Being told what to do and following those orders felt so much easier than trying to think for himself in that moment. The harsh tone especially encouraged his action—he’d never been spoken to in such a tone by anyone in the palace. The Lord Chamberlain opened one of the servant’s passages for them, on the side of the room. Lloyd immediately recognized the direction they were going—the physician’s treating room was nearby.

Lloyd had never thought about it’s placement being near his father’s throne room as intentional until that very moment. His heart sunk with every struggled step.

The chamberlain left them in order to wake the physician in his bedchambers—Captain Hutchins kicked open the door to the treating room without further ceremony, leading Lloyd to turn sideways to pull Kai into the room. Kai’s head lolled onto Lloyd’s shoulder and Lloyd glued his jaw shut to keep from crying out with grief once more. He could feel the blood soaking his side that was pressed against his brother.

By the time the two of them laid Kai chest-down on the physician’s table, the amount of blood sticking Lloyd’s clothes to him had gone to his head. Kai’s arms hung down, limp on either side of the high table, lips parted and a pained line between his brows as he cheek pressed against the metal.

Lloyd rarely saw Kai bare-chested, even after living in close quarters with him since he was a child. Even so, Lloyd knew about the scars. The ones Kai would dismiss as a mission gone wrong, an enemy who had gotten lucky. But Kai’s enemies didn’t get lucky, not against him, and not as often as his many, many scars suggested. Lloyd had always had a feeling that it was all lies to protect him—maybe he had even known the truth and just been in denial.

But Lloyd couldn’t continue to deny this.

Lloyd grabbed a wastebin, crouching on the ground, and dry heaved until bile came up, burning his throat with a painful fury. His mouth tasted like acid—he choked on it, spittle running down his chin.

The door burst open with the arrival of the physician, the chamberlain hot on his heels. The other elderly man certainly looked as if he had been shocked awake, wrapped in white the same as the chamberlain, the physician even wearing a sleeping bonnet that slumped down the back of his head. He took in the scene before him quickly, then gestured from the chamberlain to Lloyd.

“Wait, no—” Lloyd tried to struggle when the chamberlain grabbed him. His voice was cracking. “I want to stay!”

“You will only get in their way,” the chamberlain told him firmly, “Come. Captain Hutchins will watch over him.”

Lloyd was pulled from the room and into the hallway. The chamberlain closed the door behind them, though it sagged a bit where Captain Hutchins had broken the latch in the process of kicking it in.

Outside the door, the chamberlain’s wrinkled hands took Lloyd’s face and raised it, then turned it back and forth under his scrutinizing gaze. He wiped Lloyd’s mouth with the sleeve of his bedclothes. The chamberlain pulled back to survey the rest of Lloyd—he took Lloyd’s hands and felt across them, under the blood that stained the surface. When finding Lloyd mostly unharmed, the man took a deep breath of relief, then looked back up with a serious gaze.

Lloyd was out of tears to spill, but his lip quivered. His body felt drained. The chamberlain reached up, pulling Lloyd into an embrace, a kindly hand at the back of his neck. Lloyd collapsed into him, clinging to his robes like he was a child again. The chamberlain held him silently, letting him muffle his sobs against the elderly man’s shoulder.

Chapter Text

In certain places on the planet, the earth was so continuous and unchanging for so long that at both edges of the horizon, a gentle curve of the land could be seen with the naked eye—the visible evidence of the spherical nature of the world. These locations were rare, of course, as the length of land it took in order to allow such visibility was unimaginably large, and most often a stray forest, mountain, or manmade obstacle made such uninterrupted length impossible.

In this desert, in this location, no such obtrusion did so. The desert simply seemed to go on until it fell off the curves, it’s hills and bumps too shallow to truly interrupt the rhythm of flat nothing. It was very much unlike the Dune Sea, which was many, many miles further south, and whose dunes raised often higher than the skyscrapers in the city. Those buildings were too far in the opposite horizon to the north to see, as well, so no proper comparison could be made. The rocky, flat desert had been layered with the cool blue of the night, the sun long set. That night in particular was a deeper blue than it otherwise would have been—for, on the northern horizon, the sky had been swallowed by the heavy wall of rainclouds steadily approaching.

The thunder could already be heard in the far distance. The moon, still low in the sky, was blotted out by those clouds, and the stars would follow soon enough. The metallic, electric feeling in the air that rose before a storm was especially strong. It was going to be a heavy fall full of dangerous strikes, as the rare storms of the desert often were.

Those storms never meant good things for the only source of noise and breath for miles.

Tall fences no thicker than chicken wire were topped with ancient barbs, which had been replaced with new wire in places where the old had weathered completely away. Some holes hung in the fence, swaying with the cold breeze approaching from the north. It wasn’t a very sturdy protection to look at—then again, it served little purpose other than cosmetic. And intimidation tactic, perhaps. It’s main purpose was to show the boundaries of the great quarry within.

The excavation site went deep into the desert floor, layers of earth that were completely different shades from the last, though all were a deep orange or a hazy red in the daylight. Now, they were all depressing layers of blues, even with the bright floodlights that had been set up in every corner and at every angle. The floodlights did their purpose well—it was plenty visible all around the excavation hole, which had grown and grown over decades to look as if the solar system’s greatest meteor had crashed down. It was an impressive sight to behold—and, in some ways, a very sad one. The hole was so wide, and so long, it was as if a great blade had been taken to it, a wound to the earth that would never heal, and would forever be forced to bleed more.

A camp of sorts lay on the other end of the fenced-in acres. There were buildings after buildings, all of them looking identical to the last—long and narrow, filled with beds and nothing much else. The beds were too close together, the single building for showers wasn’t nearly large enough, and the amount of tarps hung up and strung over wood among the camp suggested meek shade was the only protection from the sun. Heat strokes were common—as were infections born of unclean conditions and sickness brought on by the chilly nights. The medical treatment this far from the city was poor—and honestly, not many cared when a prisoner in a labor camp dropped dead. In fact, most didn’t expect to make it out of one alive after being sentenced there. A prisoner would be worked to death, killed by disease, or simply become someone that the residing troopers didn’t want to feed any longer.

And that was the purpose of the final building. To get rid of the bodies that dropped like flies. There was no smoke rising out of the building in the nighttime. As soon as the sun was gone, it got so cold, prisoners would be willing to sneak from the barracks just to huddle along the sides of the building to accept the little warmth the walls provided. The troopers had gotten tired of beating them back into place.

Not many in Ninjago City nor the surrounding towns and villages knew the truth of labor camps. Of course, some differed—the rice fields and the bamboo harvesters were not quite as harsh. But the ore-gathering camps were infamous among the camps for what they were. The average citizen of Ninjago would think of the worst punishment they could imagine being given a proper mattress and a closet-sized room to themselves in order to stand knee-deep in watered fields all day, heads protected, with gloves that would only give the occasional callous. They would find themselves wrong.

Even now, in the dead of night, the sounds of labor continued on. Metal tips clinked and clung on tough rock all around every layer of the quarry. The sound of metal chains shifted. Heavy breathing and dragging footsteps echoed over the edge of the quarry, reaching the camp. There were the occasional shouts of annoyance from guards. “Get back to work!” and “No sleeping outta the barracks!” were common phrases. All of those in the camp wore whatever clothes they had come in, but they were far from recognizable, now. Dirty and moth-eaten and washed so many times, the color had bled out. Lucky ones had jackets, though it all looked like the same browns and greys.

One woman in the camp did not sport old, threadbare clothes, nor did she wear the armor of the troopers. In fact, it didn’t look like she belonged at all—not in the black gi she wore, lined with a cyan color too bright to be in a place such as Camp Tetsu. And if that wasn’t strange enough, then the hood and mask wrapping her face certainly marked her as an outsider.

There was no one to point these facts out—no prisoners nor troopers—not with the way that the woman slunk from rooftop to rooftop without making so much as a scuff of noise.

Thunder rumbled across the desert land. Hanging lanterns, electrical lights within, swayed along the edges of the barracks she was traversing.

She crouched, reaching out to hold the curb of the rooftop to remain on the side despite the sharp decline of each side. The boards didn’t even creak.

She glanced over the barracks, three pathways to her right, to see a figure traveling the same way she was. He landed on a rooftop even with hers—the last line of barracks before the officer housing, kitchens, and showers. His head turned back in the direction of the storm. She knew that he felt it, too, even more keenly than she did—the electricity in the air. It was a good night for them. It would be a successful night if it helped them get their jobs done.

She waited for the figure to look back her way before she gestured at him. He signaled back, a quick flick of the wrist and nod of the head. Even in the darkness of the night, the dim lanterns were enough for them.

The clouds swelled ever closer. In the distance, she could feel the rain hitting the rock and running across the dry land, seeking any small crevasse that presented itself. She rolled her shoulders.

Wait for the signal, her mind supplied, the words drilled into her head. Wait for the signal.

She exhaled quietly, eyeing the other figure with annoyance, as if he could send her an agreeing look from so far away. She wished she had a clue as to what the signal was supposed to be.

“Oh, you’ll know it when you see it, honey!”

Great. Very descriptive.

Movement in the corner of her gaze had her quickly ducking down against the rooftop. Her partner followed her lead, despite being at the wrong angle to be able to see the group of troopers coming from the quarry. They were loud, holding flashlights that swung with their arm movements. The way one of them laughed made the woman’s blood boil. Prisoners within the quarry were killing themselves to pay their debts that could never be paid and these men were laughing amongst themselves.

The door to the officer’s quarters creaked as they walked in, light briefly spilling out. Unlike the barracks she sat atop, they were provided with electricity. She wondered bitterly if they had a proper bathroom, leaving all of their prisoners to shit in the mud.

A glance to the right, where the troopers barracks were—fewer in number but much more industrialized than the lines and lines of poorly built ones—but it was quiet. A few troopers had exchanged places an hour or so ago when shifts had changed, but that was all. The woman didn’t know if the people working in the quarry were afforded shift changes, or if the especially hated prisoners were forced to work through the night.

More movement had her hunkering down again—but she quickly realized that it was unnecessary. This movement was yet another figure in black, who had crawled atop the officer’s quarters, forming a triangle with her and her partner. She subtly waved towards the figure she knew wore the deep blue lines to alert him to their third comrade.

Blue nodded, eye catching the third figure. The third, who she knew was lined in white, got into position.

The woman’s original companion, in dark blue, rolled off the rooftop and disappeared further into the camp. It wouldn’t be long, now. Anticipation rose in her, reaching high enough to peak before it would fall down the other side as the adrenaline hit—but not yet. Not yet.

Thunder boomed. The storm was much closer. She could sense it at her back, within the mile. The front-most clouds of the wall were beginning to overtake the camp, swallowing up stars one by one. As such light was quenched, it seemed more and more like ink bleeding across the sky. She didn’t mind one bit. The cool breeze that rolled from the storm had the lanterns below bumping up against one another again.

The fluttering flag of the empire that rose high above them clapped and waved. It’s shadow that once loomed across the camp was disappearing along with the meager light of the stars.

A stray drop of rain padded against her shoulder. She brushed it with a bare thumb revealed beneath her hand wrappings.

BOOM! An explosion rocked the camp, red and orange lighting up the sky. The woman latched onto the rooftop as the building swayed violently.

Not a second later, a massive bolt of lightening blinded anyone who failed to shield their eyes. It buried directly into the barracks of the troopers, and yet another explosion made the earth shake with a fury. BOOM!

Two barracks exploded outwards, destroyed completely. All of those around caught on fire—those not already on fire from the previous explosion behind the fence near those same barracks.

The alarm siren began immediately—loud and whining and overwhelming, from every corner of the camp.

The figure lined in white slammed a hand down onto the roof of the officer’s quarters and frost flew over the surface, locking shut every door and window with a seal of ice.

The woman leaped down. Cries and shouts of alarm had already begun everywhere in the camp, and the unrest within the barrack could be heard from outside of it.

The woman grabbed the doors to the prisoner barrack and threw them open.

Prisoners in greys and browns leaned down from their cots and stood in the narrow center walkway. They all flinched back at the aggression, chains rattling, eyes shining with fear.

She reached behind her and unhooked the circular cap that topped the sloshing backpack strapped to her back. With the movements of her hand and the force of her will, the gallon of water stashed away rose out of the hydrobag and floated midair.

The prisoners only had a moment to gape in disbelief before the woman flicked her hand and the water shot through the barrack faster than the eye could follow—sharpened to an infinite point with the suggestion of her ability.

Every chain and every lock that kept the prisoners’ feet, hands, and necks anchored abruptly snapped and fell to the floor.

The woman reached up and ripped her hood from her head, pulling her mask down in the same movement.

The beautiful young face of a twenty-three year old martial artist, with tanned skin and long, dark hair revealed herself.

“Prisoners of Camp Tetsu! I’m a ninja with the rebellion against the Empire and this is your liberation! As of today, you are free to live without any repercussions! If this is a chance you want to take—then let’s get the hell out of here!”

One of the men closest to the front clutched onto a bedpost like his life depended on it. “How–How do we know this isn’t a trick to get us punished?”

Another explosion rocked the earth—people stumbled. This explosion was much more like the first one—caused by classic explosives. Yelling and screaming echoed from the troopers’ barracks.

“I can only ask you to trust me!” The ninja shouted. “Come on!”

She waved them out, then jumped away as prisoners willing to have that hope began to rush out of the building. She pointed them back towards the quarry, then sprinted to the next barrack. Flung the door open, flicked her hand through the air—the water followed her and metal chains shuddered to the ground.

More prisoners joined the crowd rushing back for the wound in the earth. The sounds of work had long since stopped from there—there were no more shouts from guards echoing in the massive well, but there were the whoops and hollers of those who had been at work that no longer touched their pickaxes and hammers.

Thunder made the earth rumble as the storm finally reached them. When the rain began to come down, it began to in a massive pour.

The ninja skidded to a stop in the space between four barracks. She raised her arms, reaching out to her sides. She closed her eyes in concentration.

She could feel every drop of rain, every cloud in the sky, every puddle beginning to form. Small streams had already begun to form across the dry ground, digging in and running for the quarry.

Abruptly, all of the rain within a twenty-foot sphere around her stopped midair. The sounds of the fires and the siren and the shouts of prisoners and the screams of troopers all drifted away. The sphere around her looked otherworldly, a layer of water growing as new raindrops froze upon impact with the area.

She inhaled, moving a foot back in a smooth, trained form, and closing her arms as her fists tightened. The water moved along with her, forming a single, floating mass, new raindrops curving against gravity to join the large, swirling mass that surrounded her. Even the raindrops in her gi were sucked out to join.

She threw her arms out, sharp and precise.

The mass of water shot out away from her, digging directly through the weathered wooden walls of the barracks and shattering the glass windows of them. Some prisoners screamed in surprise—but the woman’s control was perfect. She didn’t have to hear the muffled collapse of chains to know that the spears of water had done away with them all.

The prisoners in those four barracks didn’t have to be told what was going on—the sounds of rioting and the hollers of freedom was enough for them and they began to pour out like ants from a hill.

The harder the rain came down, the more barracks she was able to reach at once. She leapt back on top of the buildings to get a better vantage as she continued with her task.

The fires caused by the explosives and the lightening was being battled by the rain, but it was far from out. Figures in black with the red arm bands of the rebellion were swarming in through the holes of the gate, engaging with the troopers who still had their bedclothes on. The roar of a loud engine echoed like the growl of a great beast, tires screeching.

The incineration building shifted with a great roar. Bricks fell out, the roof shingles bulged up and down. The chimneys collapsed in.

The block abruptly blasted outward with great force, and from the rubble, a great form emerged, crawling across the ground. Sinewy back muscles beneath scales—stretched too thin, limbs too small, wings that expanded out from the elbows and into the sky raggedy and hole-filled. It might have been the sickest looking red dragon the ninja had ever seen—but at last, it was free.

The dragon, as big as the building itself had been, shifted for a moment, coiling it’s thin limbs, before leaping itself into the sky. It wobbled in the air and briefly crashed down again—taking down the fence to the north and dragging it a dozen meters further. But it tried again, thrusting it’s wings into the sky and beating them hard. This time, it only bobbed in the air a few times before it let out a victorious roar and flew up into the clouds.

She looked up with awe as she ran, able to feel the power of the dragon’s movement with every drop of rain that hit it. But she shook herself, converged her power, and freed another barrack of prisoners. As more were released, deeper into the maze of building and confusion, she shouted and pointed over the storm.

“Head for the mine!” She shouted, leaping across a barrack. “You’re all free now! You’re being evacuated there, GO!”

Shining eyes gazed up at her in shock, but prisoners shoved at the backs of their friends, and people began to sprint with all they could. A kid—he couldn’t have been more than fifteen or sixteen, grabbed onto an older woman and dragged her by the arm. Two older men helped one another, one with a limp. A group of younger adults screamed just for the sake of their own freedom as they took off.

Her heavy bangs stuck to her face, her ponytail a weight at the back of her head with all of the water dragging it down. She didn’t let the dampness of her gi slow her, either.

Lightening lit up the camp once more in a flash of white. Another barrack in the trooper maze exploded apart as the sounds of fighting persisted. The light of blasterfire could be seen from where the woman stood. But she couldn’t go help—hopefully, the white-lined ninja would provide backup. She trusted her companions.

By the time she got to the last prisoner barrack, the ground was slick with mud. It splashed up her boots and pants as she ran through it. The prisoners within the last building were all very scared, shouting at each other, trying to tug free of chains long sealed shut.

She threw the door open and released them all. They looked at her as if she were something otherworldly.

“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” She shouted at them, waving her arm as each one jumped through the threshold. “To the mine! Hurry! You’re all free, now!”

“Help!” Someone in the back of the building shouted. “Help me!”

The ninja waited for the bulk of people to escape before swinging inside, muddied boots pounding across the wooden boards. She grabbed onto a bedpost to stop herself in the back—the barrack smelled badly of mold and body odor and there were human liquids that stained the ground that shouldn’t have been there. A young girl, likely sixteen or seventeen, was hovering over a young man, a few years older than her.

His pants had been cut above the knee to reveal a bad break—the leg was swollen badly and the boy was covered in sweat, red in the face and with his eyes closed. It seemed like he had a fever—perhaps a result of infection from the ill-treated wound.

He likely would have died within a few days if the rebellion hadn’t made their move so soon.

“I can’t—!” The girl cried. “I can’t carry him, please, help me! He’s my brother, I won’t–I won’t leave him!”

She sobbed deep in her chest. The girl would have been pretty if not for the rusted blood on the side of her face. The sound of the rain pelting on the shingles above was almost louder than the shouts among the fires.

“I’ve got him,” the woman promised. She crouched beside the boy. “What’s your name?”

“Nobara,” the girl choked. “It’s Nobara. This is Minho.”

“Nobara,” the ninja smiled. “I’m Nya. And I promise, everything is going to be okay.”

Nya pulled the boy up by his elbows and crossed them over her own shoulders. He fell against her back bonelessly. She stood and his head slumped onto his own shoulder over hers—he would have been heavy to a normal woman Nya’s size, but Nya had the advantage of holding elemental power in her grasp, giving her strength beyond a regular human.

Nobara was crying, now with relief.

Outside the barrack, a group of red-banded resistance fighters ran up to them. They were dressed in dark cargo pants and blaster vests over various shirts and jackets. Some wore protective helmets.

“Aye, lass, the dragon’s been freed! Do ya need help with tha evacuation?” The lead one asked, all of his men slightly singed.

She thrust her head back to the barracks. “Check for anyone left behind, then go for the evacuation point!”

“Aye!” The man accepted, immediately gesturing his men towards different barracks. The resistance soldiers shot off to do the job. Their squad captain followed after them.

“Come on!” Nya told Nobara. “I’ve got your brother, you just have to keep up, okay?”

“Okay!”

The rain was making Nobara’s short, choppy hair sitck down her her head, droplets rolling down both of their faces and dripping from their noses. The girl was thin and weak, like most of the prisoners, so Nya had to force herself to stay pace. She was impatient and nervous and full of adrenaline, all making her want to sprint at her full speed, but Nobara was still crying as they ran.

Closer to the mine, the drone of the sirens drowned out any speech, in addition to the cacophonies of the storms and the fires and the battle going on near the troop barracks. They ran passed the officer quarters—the door was being slammed against, but the barely-visible layer of ice was nothing so naturally broken.

Even as Nya watched, she saw a huddle of prisoners pausing in order to start the building on fire with a blazing piece of wood from the raging wreckage to the east.

Nya didn’t stop them, but she did shout, “Evacuation won’t last forever!”

She was acknowledged, there were nods, appreciative looks—but apparently these men were willing to risk missing out on their freedom for a chance to see the building burn.

“Where are we goi—!” Nobara screeched in shock as they reached the edge of the mine.

Where it had once been layers and layers of caves and work places, lined with chains, the earth itself had shifted. All of the troopers who had been stationed down and around, which had to have been a couple hundred within the sporting-sized stadium, were unconscious or dead, heads collided with the rock after an unexpected fall. Down the side of the massive fissure, the earth had turned from giant stairs to an unnaturally smooth surface about thirty feet wide that went directly downwards and into a hole in the earth that was lit up with some sort of light source. It looked like a children’s slide brought to a terrifying size and with an unknowable end.

If Nya hadn’t known the intricacies of the slide and the tunnel, she probably would have been scared out of her mind at the idea of actually trusting it. These prisoners were all desperate enough and maybe crazy enough to take that chance.

“Oh, master, oh, master,” Nobara gasped. “Down there?”

“You’ll be caught, trust me!” Nya said. “Now JUMP!”

Nobara did. The rock slide was at an angle that was frankly unsafe for anything other than an emergency such as this, so she screamed as she slid down.

Nya lifted the boy’s arms from her shoulders and shifted him around to grab under his legs and under his shoulders. He groaned in his fevered state as she was forced to put pressure on his bum leg, but it couldn’t be helped. She cradled the larger boy, glancing back toward the chaos of the trooper barracks.

The fight was raging on—but resistance members were already sprinting towards the quarry. They’d been given the order to retreat, which meant that the squad she’d sent to check over the barracks had reported that every prisoner had been evacuated. It was time to get out of there.

Come on, she thought insistently towards the fire. Come on, you guys, where are you?

Her grip unconsciously tightened and Minho whimpered in her arms.

“—go, go, go!” A squad of soldiers pushed each other. They nodded at Nya, then leaped passed her, sliding down the rock in a trained position. Their black outfits disappeared into the light of the tunnel.

The siren wailed. But finally—finally—the large machine that sported the roaring engine exploded straight through a barrack. She could see figures huddled on it—lightening abruptly came down, turning night into day once more—and the ground behind the vehicle exploded.

Nya turned and jumped.

Her feet seemed to hit the stone, but in reality, the layer of rainwater on top of the stone caught her boots. It allowed her to control her speed and her movement to skate down safely without having to trust slide. The last thing she wanted was to accidently hurt the boy she was trying so hard to save. The sounds behind her began to fade, the rain still hitting, streams of water falling beside her. Her gut still swooped with the feeling of falling.

She breached the cave, the electrical spotlights cut off from above her. The water under her boots slowed her, allowing her decent to be controlled as she reached a much larger open space.

Inside the tunnel, thousands of recently freed prisoners lay, being wrapped with blankets and given a small supply of food and water by a mere handful of red-banded rebels. There was crying, sobbing, but also chatter, though the air felt tense with unease. None of the civilians knew what would come next. Currently, it only seemed to them that they were trapped in a mysterious tunnel, which seemed to go on forever, like a trax lacking a train. Water was also beginning to pool in places were prisoners were huddled.

More resistance members slid down after her, cushioned by the gentle slope that eventually brought their momentum to a stop before they crashed into anyone. They popped up to their feet.

Nobara scrambled up to Nya, not yet greeted by anyone with food or water. “Minho?”

“Let’s lay him down,” Nya said. She pulled Nobara further into the crowd. A gesture from Nya and a few rebels were swarming over with their supplies. “I need some medical treatment over here, urgent!”

One of their medics responded immediately, making their way through the crowd. A lot of medics were crouched next to the browns and greys.

A blanket was folded under the boy’s head. Nya stood up—she had to make sure everything was going smoothly—but Nobara grabbed her wrist.

“Thank you,” Nobara said, tears in her eyes. “Thank you.”

Nya smiled and squeezed her wrist lightly.

The hum, then the roar of an engine began to echo down the rock slide. A few prisoners screamed and jerked back when the large behemoth of an automobile burst into the tunnel. The screech of tires was loud, almost as loud as the wailing sirens had been. The vehicle looked ramshackle, hastily put together, with a ridiculously large thrust mechanic, painted black with red lightening stripes down the sides.

When it stopped, it comically skidded sideways and it’s tires briefly lifted before dropping back to the ground. Resistance members clutched onto it, some sporting soot and ash, some bloodied.

The figure in the gi with the electric blue lines stood on it, clutching a hand support.

He reached up and tore his hood and mask away, took a deep breath, and shouted, “CLOSE IT UP!”

His voice was made loud in the tunnel.

Somewhere passed the sea of prisoners, the wall shuddered under the touch of someone powerful. The tremor in the ground traveled under their feet and through the tunnel towards the opening—rock and stone began to shift as if they were alive, closing up like some massive throat of the earth. The grate of stone was hair-raising as the world outside was abruptly cut off—the siren, the rain, and the crackle of fire and thunder muted to nothing. Though they could no longer see it, Nya knew from their planning that the mine outside shifted, as well—the rock slide snapping up once more into giant steps, leaving behind no clues as to what may have truly happened.

The shifting made the tunnel shake and dust and pebbles rained down on the population below—the fear in the crowd of thousands was palpable, but it calmed after a long moment. The light of electrical hand-held lanterns and flashlights kept the area nice and visible. It was quiet. Almost numbing, following the overstimulating amount of noise from above.

They’d done it. Sure, they hadn’t reached the finish line yet, but they’d gotten over every hurdle that stood in their way. The losses to the resistance forces was visible—Nya could already tell some bodies had been left behind—but thousands of people had been liberated.

At the edge of the crowd, where the tunnel got deeper, a man stood up on a raised rock platform to address the crowd. He wore the black stealth gear of the resistance with a red button up under his blastervest. At his side was a stolen imperial blaster, and he wore a hat on his head. A ridiculously large mustache graced the old man’s face—it squirmed as he spoke.

“Attention everyone!” The old man projected. “I am Commander Donovan, with the rebellion against the Empire, and today marks the day of your liberation! Camp Tetsu will never again force it’s will on innocent people such as yourselves! We are going to get you all to a safe zone where resources will be waiting for you. You will be provided with bedding, food, and water for however long you will need.”

The commander was inturrupted by a chorus of cheers from the crowd, relieved cheers of pure human emotion. People hugged each other, threw arms over one another. Others seemed very tired, but even they had weary smiles. The commander’s mustache twitched up, but he remained firm.

“I’d like to warn all of you that we will be traveling there by unconventional means, but please, remain calm. The journey will only take a few hours. Our medics can treat anyone in need of treating in the meantime. If everyone would sit down, we can get moving.”

The prospect of beginning their travels by sitting down on in a rocky tunnel seemed to confuse many people and some resistance members were flagged down due to questions. Still, people began to follow the instruction.

Nya had already turned her back on the commander when those on the vehicle began to disembark. Five regular resistance members climbed down, clapping each other on the backs and chuckling, despite their bloodied states. One of them was being supported by a friend, a hand pressed onto his face as his body shook with grief. He must have lost a friend during the raid.

The ninja with his face now unveiled leapt down, aiming a bright grin right at Nya.

That grin took her breath away. In all the bad and the ugly and the dark, it was far too bright and too beautiful, pure, with dimples pulling at his freckled cheeks and lines crinkling around his eyes. His curls bounced with his landing, though they were soaked and still dripping, along with his uniform.

She grabbed onto his shoulders, looking him over quickly. “Are you okay—?”

He pulled her into a hug. She shut up, her arms snaking around his waist and holding on tight. Only slightly taller than her, their damp cheeks pressed against each other. He sighed with relief, then let out a small laugh. It was airy and bright—stress dissipating with it.

“We did it,” he said by her ear, nose at her neck. “We saved them. That was the fifth camp this year. After all this time, we’re finally making a difference. It's about time!”

Nya pulled back, but he didn’t let her go all the way, hands falling to clutch onto her waist. She smiled, holding his pale face between her hands. His sudden hope made her chest soar.

“You’re right,” she said. “You did it, Jay.”

“We did it.”

“Ahem.”

Both of them released each other, suddenly embarrassed at the robotic voice that echoed of impatience.

Their third companion in a gi, lined with white, did not take off his hood nor his mask. His eyes above the mask looked so close to human, but barely missed the mark—pure light blue, lacking a pupil to complete the illusion. And, at the moment, they conveyed no emotion.

“I apologize for the interruption. I’d like to kindly remind you that our responsibilities have not been fulfilled,” the monotone voice told them. Their companion didn’t even fake a shift as he spoke. “We should ensure that Black completes his duties.”

“Yeah, uh, yeah,” Jay stumbled to agree. “Check on Cole. You’re right, Zane.”

The android nodded and immediately spun around and began in the direction of where Cole should have been stationed. His walk was unnaturally stiff—it was strange even for Nya to see.

She shared a concerned glance with Jay. He pressed his lips together, but shook his head. Nothing they had time to discuss, now.

The two of them hurried after Zane. While they walked at such a pace, Nya tapped Jay’s gi. All of the water making it heavy and damp abruptly bled out from the clothes, leaving wet foot prints in his wake until his hair began to frizz up and the rain was all gone. He gave her another smile. She dried herself, next.

They dodged through the crowd until they reached the rock that Commander Donovan had stood upon in order to make his announcements. He was speaking with a very tall man in a black gi, the lines along his gi a muted grey. Shaggy black hair hung in his face over dark skin, and his arms were crossed. Nya could tell he was already tired—but he was being asked to do more.

Zane spoke quietly to him as well.

“Hey,” Nya greeted. “How’re you feeling? Ready to go?”

Cole nodded, though his arms remained crossed. “Yeah. Soon as everyone settles down. It’s a straight shot, so I think I can make it in one go. You guys in one piece? Jay, your parents?”

“We’re all good,” Jay gave him a thumbs up. “Lost a couple of guys in the fire, but…Anyway, my parents are holding up the back so no one falls off once this ride gets going.”

“Sweet,” Cole exhaled. “All aboard the Cole Express.”

Jay gave him a disappointed look. Cole gave him his undeniable, innocent eyes. Jay slapped his own face in exasperation.

The squad leader that Nya had spoken to before—Captain Soto, the next ranking rebel—came up to them from the crowd. He was middle aged, with some salt in his dark beard, and a few missing teeth.

“Argh, we’re a’ready ta go when y’all’re,” the man said.

Jay blinked at him, but Nya and Cole nodded.

“Let’s get these people home,” Commander Donovan stated.

Cole turned and faced the tunnel that he’d prepared after dropping the bulk of the rebellion forces on the outside of Camp Tetsu. It looked as if the tunnel disappeared into another Realm with how dark it was—but Nya knew that it ran directly for Ninjago City. Cole walked a bit further out, well away from the crowd, then crouched down and touched the earth with a flat palm. Nya, Jay, and Zane shuffled further back to provide him with plenty of space.

Cole’s tense shoulders were the only give away of his concentration from behind. The earth around them rumbled. His palm slowly turned on the ground, like he was shifting a combination lock.

With the sharp crack of stone and the trickle of dirt, blocks of rock began to shoot up along the edges of the sitting space, beginning behind where the vehicle lay and running up toward the front of the mass of people. The blocks of stone, forming a barrier between the sitting people and the dirt walls, shot up and ended in front of where Cole crouched, curving like the front of a trax car. The blocks were only three or four feet from the ground under them.

People glanced around in confusion. Nya and the other rebels around her took it as their cue to also sit down. Sure, she and the ninja had great balance, but she wasn’t looking to embarrass herself by falling in front of everyone they’d just saved.

There were some yelps when the ground under them jolted.

As if they were sitting upon a massive train car made out of rock, the dirt walls on either side of the tunnel began to recede. The stone carriage created by Cole within the boundaries that he’d raised chugged forward. It began at a crawl, but then began to go faster and faster and faster until the dirt walls of the tunnels were whipping passed them and they were well on their way. If anyone were to stand up, they’d certainly stumble, so they were forced to gape in awe from where they sat. Any requests for water or food forced others to crawl on hands and knees in order to prevent their fall from the stone train car.

Nya flicked a hand and a water bottle flew toward her and smacked into her palm. A few prisoners who’d happen to see stared at her with open mouths. She, Jay, and Zane shifted forward to keep Cole company while their friend carried thousands of people from the smoking remains of the death camp.

-

Nya didn’t have any memories of her parents.

She knew what they looked like because of the pictures scattered around the house. Her mother had Nya’s dark hair and Nya’s blue eyes, but her father had her straight nose and her tanned complexation. She thought that she probably had her father’s smile, too, because her mother’s smile looked too soft. She knew what they sounded like because of the small tape deck they had stashed in the kitchen. Her father’s voice was sharp, but warm. Her mother’s voice was silky and smooth.

Nya didn’t know anything about them beyond that. She didn’t know if her mother gave good hugs. She didn’t know if her father had a scratchy face, like Mr. Hiro. She didn’t know who she would have been excited about when it came to cooking dinner. She didn’t know if her mother would have preferred red or blue. She didn’t know if her father would have laughed with his belly or with his shoulders.

Ever since she could remember, it had only been her and her older brother. There had only been two and a half years between them, but that felt like a lot when she was only six years old and he was already nine. He got to be in charge a lot because of that and she would pout and complain, but what was she to do? He wasn’t her father, but she was only six and she couldn’t even reach the kitchen cabinets, yet!

Her older brother remembered more about Mother and Father. He used to talk about them so much, when she’d first gained the ability to retain information in her genius brain. But that happened less and less until she thought maybe she’d imagined the admiration that had once been in his voice. It had used to be, They’ll be back for us! and now it was, We’ll just have to look out for each other, huh?

That day, she had been dutifully scribbling across her homework sheets at their dining table. There was a small step stool by the chair that she always sat at because it was too tall for her all by itself. Her legs swung underneath the table as she worked. Her teacher at the small schoolhouse in Ignacia had let her use her blue pencil to do her homework!

She sure liked using the blue pencil. It made it far less boring—and she was often bored of the homework she was given. That included the sheet she was filling out. It was just tracing Ninjargon characters that formed the most common phrases—but she knew them all already. The next door neighbor had started teaching her when she’d asked and now she was so far ahead of her class, all the other kids seemed dumb.

They were especially dumb because they sometimes said that her older brother was dumb. Which wasn’t fair at all because everyone knows that someone has to stay in the house, and since Nya didn’t have a mom, that had to be her older brother. He didn’t get to go to school. But then she got in trouble for screaming at them and her teacher taught her that they would be more upset if she ignored them, so she learned how to do that.

Nya hummed as she filled in the outlines, glancing up towards the stove, which was beginning to smell very good. They didn’t cook a lot—it was a special occasion when her older brother got out the mac ‘n’ cheese or noodles. Nya knew it was because she got all her math test right! She liked to make her older brother proud, even when he was sometimes embarrassing.

He was tapping the spoon to her humming—she giggled. She liked it when they made songs to fill the quiet house. It was very fun. She always got to be the singer—and maybe that’s how she knew her mother had probably been good at singing, too.

A banging knock on the door startled her and her pencil went outside the line. She gasped, horrified—since she was using her colored pencil, it wouldn’t erase all the way! Would her teacher be mad? She quickly tried to rub it away with her eraser anyway.

Her brother stepped down from his step-stool in front of the stove. He looked confused. He asked, “Did you invite your friend over again? It’s too late for friends.”

“No!” She whined distractedly. The blue was slowly coming off. Phew!

“Okay, okay, I’ll be right back. Don’t let the bubbles go over the sides.”

She sighed in relief as she managed to get rid of the bad line. Why had anyone needed to knock that hard at their door? Suzie always knocked really soft when Nya invited her over.

Nya dutifully kept her eyes on the pot while doing her work to make sure it didn’t bubble into the gas fire.

She heard the door open in the other room and voices that were very obviously adult voices drifted through the house. She perked up, twisting in her chair as if it would help her to hear and she frowned. She didn’t like a lot of adults. Some of them were just plain mean. But some of them were nice and stopped by with sweets and casseroles, so maybe it wasn’t so bad. Miss Ping always brought games, after all. Maybe she was saying hello.

Nya set down her pencil, finished with her homework, and slipped off the chair. She had to go on her belly and reach the floor with her feet dangling. Why had her mother and father ever brought them chairs so tall if they were getting the house only for her and her brother to live in?

When her feet hit the ground, she heard the door close again. She pouted—she’d wanted to see who had come. Maybe if she went really quick and opened the door again, she could see them leaving.

But her older brother appeared in the doorway between the rooms before she could go any further. He looked weird—suddenly the freckles she’d thought he’d lost were visible, face less tan than before, and his hand was shaking a little. He always told her he didn’t get cold—what a liar!

“Nee-Nee, go grab your school bag and pack some clothes in there. Make sure you get undies and socks, too, okay? Then put your shoes on and your big coat, got it?”

“Wha? How come?” She looked passed him, craning her neck to see if anyone else had come in. “Who’s visiting?”

“No one,” he quickly said, leaning in her line of vision. “Just some guys. Wrong house. Don’t worry about it. We’re–We’re gonna go on a little adventure, yeah? You’re not too tired, right?”

“I’m not tired!” She immediately said. Her older brother wasn’t enforcing bed time? This must be because she did so good on her test! She smiled wide. “Do I get to wear my PJs outside?! Where’re we going?”

He made a weird face. It was like he was trying to smile but it looked more like a frown. “It’s a surprise. You can wear your PJs, but we’ve gotta hurry, or the sun’ll get too low. I’ll bring snacks, too, we can—we can eat all the cookies left.”

The banging knocking sound on the door started again, like before. Nya looked between her older brother’s body and his arm. The door behind him was locked and it was shuddering under the knocks. How rude! Someone was knocking way too hard! Her older brother flinched at the knocks, looking back, and…Nya thought he looked scared.

His scared look made Nya nervous. Her brother didn’t get scared of things very much. Not the big bullies in the older grades, not the mean police in the market, not the neighbor that always said bad things about them. He wasn’t afraid, so Nya didn’t have to be afraid. That was how it usually worked.

Something was wrong, even Nya could feel that. But she didn’t say anything—maybe if she hurried, she and her brother could get on with their adventure before anything more wrong happened.

“Who’s that?” She asked.

“Nothing,” her brother smiled. “It’s nothing. Just—go pack, okay? Hurry!”

“O-Okay!”

She rushed off to their room.

It had once been Mother and Father’s room, her brother had told her. But when she had been little, her brother had moved their futon into the room because it was the warmest in the house when their cold winter days got very, very cold. She got sick in the cold a lot and she didn’t like it.

They didn’t have many clothes, anyway, so there wasn’t much to have to pick and chose from. She got her only red cheongsam and her second pair of PJs. She carefully shoved it all in beside her school work, because she didn’t want to lose her schoolwork and her book. Her teacher wouldn’t be happy with her. She got her undies and socks, like she’d been told, then grabbed some of her brother’s clothes, next. He wasn’t even packing, but he said to hurry? Oh, what would her brother do without her? His tang shirt barely fit, but she struggled with the sparkly purple zipper until it cooperated.

She put on her running shoes instead of her fancy shoes that they had to wear to Imperial events in the village courtyard. They weren’t very comfortable. Finally, she grabbed her coat and put it on, even though she was already getting hot.

A dog began to bark from somewhere outside the house. She straightened up. She loved dogs! They were so nice and cute. But what was one doing here? They were outlawed in the village since there were no cattle or sheep herders around. They only had farms, which Nya thought was terribly lame.

The banging knocking on the front door suddenly stopped echoing throughout the house. Nya tapped her foot. Was she supposed to go find her brother, now? He was being quite slow. She must have been too fast for him, she imagined smugly.

BAM! Nya flinched as something within the house crashed and broke with the sound of splintering wood.

Voices, loud and shouting, echoed—adult men and heavy boots. Nya took a step away from the bedroom door, her eyes blowing out wide. What were–What were people doing in their house? Why were they yelling?

“Find them!”

Nya’s heart began to pound and that made everything even scarier because her heart had never sounded like that before. She held onto her backpack straps, stumbling back—were those men talking about her? No, no, they couldn’t be—she’d never done anything wrong! She hadn’t even cheated on her math test! Maybe—Oh, no, maybe the police had found out that they didn’t have a mother or a father and now they were in trouble!

Feet pounded against the wooden floors of the hallway beyond the door. Nya scrambled forward, scrounging up some courage, and tried to shove the door closed.

A hand caught the door. Before Nya could scream, her older brother shimmied into the room and helped her slam the door shut the rest of the way. He quickly flipped the lock on the door, the one they’d never used before because no one else was ever in their home.

He stood pressing his hands against the door over where she was doing the same thing, breathing hard and weird and he looked sick. On his side was the bag they took to the market, now full of snacks and a water bottle from the kitchen.

“What’s happening?” Nya demanded, but her voice was quiet and trembling. “Are they—Are they going to take us away? Kai?”

“No,” her older brother quickly said. “No, no, they’re not. We’re gonna be okay. The window—now!”

The window was high up, but her older brother dragged their mother’s old desk over and helped Nya crawl on top of it. It made a lot of noise, however, and it was clear that the heavy boots that were stomping around their house were coming towards them. The voices got louder and louder.

“Over here! I think I heard something!”

“Don’t let the traitors escape!”

The harshness of the adult voices was enough to bring fearful tears to Nya’s eyes.

“Come on, it’s okay,” her older brother rushed to tell her, standing on his tippy-toes to open up the wooden window, the light of sunset flooding into the room. He used the wooden rod waiting there to keep it propped open. It was a small window—Nya knew that if an adult tried to fit through, they would get stuck, but she and her brother would be okay.

“I-I can’t reach!” She cried out, outstretching her hands helplessly.

Her older brother didn’t even let her finish before he scooped her up by the waist and lifted her to the window. She grabbed onto the frame, hurrying to pull her torso up—her backpack strap briefly caught on the wood.

The view below was dizzying. It was way too tall for her to jump and right below the window, there was a big basin full of water. It was their bath water and cleaning water that they refilled every few days using the irrigation system down by Mr. Hiro’s farm. If she dropped to the ground, she would get hurt, but if she jumped into the water, her PJs would get all wet! And her clothes and, most importantly, all the schoolwork in her backpack would be ruined!

“It’s too high!” She told her brother, slapping at his hands that held her up. “I can’t jump that far! Let me back in!”

“The water!” Her brother insisted. He sounded so, so scared. What was the word? Desperate. “Just jump!”

“No!” She squirmed. “My homework!”

The barking of dogs was much louder. It sounded like they were on the other side of the house, at their front door. There were more voices from there, more heavy boots.

Inside the room, the door was slammed against with a WHAM! WHAM! WHAM—! A moment later, there was a harsh CRACK!

Her older brother shoved her outside the window. For one horrible second, she was aware that she was falling.

Then she hit the shock of the water. It was warm from the sunny day that was coming to an end and it instantly enveloped everywhere around her. She was weightless, her backpack floating off her back. Her backpack!

Her head broke out of the water and she coughed, but there had been no pain when the water had trickled down her throat and her nose. She had just been aware it was there. She quickly grabbed the edge of the basin and pulled herself out. Fully clothed, it should have been difficult for a six-year-old since there was a space between the water’s surface and the lip of the basin, but she didn’t struggle. It was almost as if the water was helping her escape.

She rolled out and hit the dry grass, scraping her knee and whining in pain. She cried out in grief as she quickly grabbed her backpack around herself and found it soaked through.

Above her, her brother was halfway through the window, both arms out, when he suddenly yelped. He growled, twisting his nine-year-old body back around and kicked at something, but his eyes went wide and he was tugged an inch back inside the house.

Nya screamed. “Kai!”

She desperately—desperately—searched around, hands flailing, trying to find a branch or a rope or—or something that would reach her brother to help him, but there was nothing. Just the sound of the barking dogs and the boots coming around the house towards her.

She jumped up below her brother, reaching out, crying. “Kai!”

He cried out and abruptly fell from the window, released after his kicking. He did not fall as well as she had—his head banged into the side of the basin. She ran forward, but her brother was still thrashing in the water, still okay, and he gasped and choked as he came up for air.

His hands were shaking more than before and he had a hard time pulling himself out of the basin, eyes glassy. Nya grabbed onto his arms and pulled and pulled and screamed at him until he rolled out of it and stumbled on his feet. There was red on his head—his head was bleeding! And now he was moving so slow. Nya grabbed his hand and tugged him away, but he was being so slow and holding his head.

“Come on, come on!” She cried out.

“Run,” he mumbled. “We gotta run.”

His hand suddenly grasped hers, his other hand tightening on the bag of food that had half-emptied into the water basin. The tightening of his grip was her only warning before he took off with a brief stumble, then they were sprinting, her being slightly dragged.

They didn’t get far. They lived atop a hill all alone, and the way to the north was blocked by what seemed to be Imperial police. Oh no, oh no, the police really were coming to get them! She cried out, pointing, but her older brother had already pivoted to try to go west, to the side of their house.

“You! Stop right there!”

More police were there. A whole group of them, two of them holding onto a pair of dogs. They were not cute dogs, nor did they seem very nice. On the contrary, all four of them were big and black and had sharp teeth, foaming at the mouths and fighting tooth and nail to get away from the police that held their leashes. They lunged forward, beady black eyes looking right at Nya and her brother.

“Don’t move! Little brats!”

They were all so much bigger than them. They all looked so angry. Like they hated Nya and her brother. Like the two children were bad people. Nya whimpered, digging into her brother’s side when she realized that they were surrounded by police who looked like that. Each bark was like a firework exploding right beside her head, the leering expressions all around them.

Her brother clung onto her, too, and he was pretending like he wasn’t crying, but his chin was shaking and tears were on his bright red cheeks. Seeing him cry made a sob burst from Nya’s throat.

“You little…!” The police closed in, sporting their scary armor and guns. The dogs got closer. Nya cried out, trying to shift away from the snarling beasts even bigger than her. “Where are they? Where are your parents?!”

“We-We didn’t do anything wrong!” her brother shouted, voice wet with tears. “They left a long time ago! We don’t–We don’t know! Leave us alone!”

The police murmured, but they didn’t bother making it too quiet for Nya to hear. Nya had good ears.

“Not here…?”

“Did he say what we were supposed to do with the kids?”

One of the police nodded, looking at Nya with a strange look in his eye. It was like there was nothing. It was like he didn’t know how to be happy or sad or angry. He was looking at her like how kids in her class just looked at the blackboard—like when they didn’t even care about anything.

“Yeah,” the policeman said. “Get rid of ‘em.”

She hugged her backpack and sobbed while her brother hugged her. This wasn’t fair, this wasn’t fair! They didn’t do anything! Why were bad things happening if they didn’t do anything?!

“No!” She screamed, her small voice shrill and shocking. “NO! NO, NO, NO!”

“He say how?”

“…Nah.”

One of the policemen gave a sick grin. His face contorted into a shape that looked like the oni masks in the church building, the ones that were so scary, but the church man said Nya should love and worship. And Nya knew that this man was one of those oni—one of those demon. And they were not to be loved.

The man reached for the leashes of the dogs. The dogs barked and snarled and thrashed with a renewed vigor, looking at Nya, looking at her like she was everything they hated in the world, like she had locked them on their leashes, like she deserved to be eaten for it. She screeched, pulling at her brother’s clothes, like he could do something.

He curled over her, like anything would change when the jaws of those sharpened teeth tore into them both and ripped their bodies apart into scraps.

One of the dogs howled in excitement.

Nya became aware of the sound of laughter.

She blinked in shock. Suddenly, everything felt a little number. She looked up through her tears, passed the arms of her older brother, to see one of the policemen smiling, so delighted that his emotion was coming out in a laugh that shook his shoulders and had him slapping the shoulder of his comrade.

That’s when she realized that she and her brother weren’t the bad people.

They were.

“NO!” She screamed.

The laughter stopped. The barking stopped. The voices stopped. The breathing stopped.

The policeman’s smile slowly melted away into an open-mouthed shock. He dropped to his knees, eyes empty in a way that was unlike the uncaring empty of the other policeman. The smiling policeman had empty eyes in the way that they would never feel anything again. She stared at him. It was almost like he was looking at her, but…not. Like a doll.

The policeman next to him dropped, next. Then the next, then the next, and then they all dropped. The dogs collapsed at the same time—tongues lolling from their mouths, foam pooling in the grass beneath their heads. It was so quiet.

A hand covered her eyes. She was too numb to fight against it.

Her brother’s voice was shaking and he whispered, “Don’t look. Don’t look.”

Okay, she said in her head. She was suddenly very sleepy. I won’t look.

She slumped against him. He slipped her backpack straps back onto her shoulders and grabbed her under her bottom to lift her up. She mechanically wrapped her arms around his neck to hold on, letting her cheek lay against his thin shoulder. The motions of him walking down the hill felt very far away. She followed her brother’s instructions very good after that because her tired eyes were drifting shut of their own accord.

She heard the hum of voices and she tried to blink as best she could. At the base of the hill was a short man with a very long white beard. There was a wide-rimed hat upon his head, like the rice farmers wore on the hot summer days—but the sun had already set.

He had a kind voice and a kind smile. A reached a hand out toward them. Her older brother took a step back, holding her tighter. She huffed in his grip, but felt herself slipping. She was too sleepy to walk. She mumbled as much to her brother. He was too little to carry her for long.

Suddenly she wasn’t slipping so much. Strong arms lifted her into the air and settled her on a larger, more comfortable shoulder of white robes. She muttered tiredly, blinking around for her brother. But he was still right there, looking up at her with big, concerned eyes—not afraid any longer. That meant she didn’t have any reason to fear, either.

She let herself fall asleep.

-

There was once a time when Ninjago lived in peace. Before the rise of the Empire—before the great Serpentine War—before the fractures grew between lands and peoples. Way back then, when the clans of human and serpents lived together, their societies built atop one another, literal supporters of each other in every sense of the word. Much of that history was lost forever in ancient times. Even more of it was destroyed or forgotten following the rise of Emperor Garmadon and his evil view of the world.

But some evidence still remained.

Beneath the very streets of Ninjago, deeply intertwined with the sewers and tracks that ran beneath the city, therein lay such evidence. Caverns upon caverns of an ancient world, abandoned by the serpentine in their times of war, had remained in wait for the return of their kind. For hundreds of years, those caverns waited, caverns full of grand cities and statues and beauty and magic. Those caverns were finally touched once more after the secret conference between the leaders of the remaining serpentine clans in the South and the special operations team representing the rebellion against the Empire. The alliance had been struck less than three years ago, and already the fruits of the friendship were ready to be enjoyed.

One such ancient city had been called Nagas, named after the serpentine’s most beloved goddess, the mother of all snakes. The city named after the important cultural figure did not disappoint in it’s majesty. It was the largest single cavern among the system of surviving serpentine cities. As such, it had become the main evacuation point for rescued prisoners and other fleeing citizens of the Empire. Buildings were outfitted with sleeping areas. Pools of endless cave water sat in layers of carved stone, used for drinking and bathing. Electrical lighting and fires brought daytime to the caves, strings of colorful holiday lights hanging over walkways and thresholds. The city smelled of the must of the cave, but also baking bread, soap suds, and freshly washed laundry. Graffiti that went unregulated covered the once-barren stone walls and archways, decorating the growing city of two years with colors one would never see in the Empire’s streets.

The evacuees of four other labor camps already called the place temporarily home. Resources were tight across thousands of people, but even more rebels above ground worked around the clock to keep the food and supplies pouring in. After all, most, if not all, of the rescued prisoners had vowed to take up arms alongside the resistance. Some did it to pay back the karma—others saw that they had no other chance of living a life. Regardless of the person reasons, anyone asking to fight was given a job, so with every camp liberated, the number of feet on the ground for the rebellion swelled.

They were in the hundreds of thousands, now. Scattered across caverns, outposts, bases, and the city above. Perhaps it wasn’t the one hundred million strong that the Empire boasted, but it was growing, and not even the Empire could stop that.

After the crack down on the rebellion over the last few years that had been swiftly taking their numbers down, the willing fighters that the camps provided was a breath of relief. Sure, it was unfair. Of course it was. They had just been freed, not taken in by the rebellion to fight. But life wasn’t fair. Anyone in Ninjago, under the Empire, knew that.

The entrances to the underground city were jealously kept secrets, only pieces of the journey given to the most trusted rebellion officials in order to keep it safe. The Empire had spies everywhere. Little travel was allowed to and from Nagas, even less so than the other cavernous outposts under the city. This became especially true when, six months ago, a platoon of Imperials had wiped out a cave hold-out and the Empire had become aware of the possibility that more of the rebellion could be hidden underground. Now, the Empire stalked the sewers and the trax-ways mercilessly. It was inevitable that they would one day find more bases, but for now, the resistance clung to the only real advantage they had ever had.

Four hours following the liberation of Camp Tetsu, the cavern that housed Nagas rumbled. Dirt and pebbles rained down. Rebels in meeting rooms glanced up, sharing knowing looks with one another. Non-militants hugged their children close, fear rushing through them. Medics on standby quickly gathered their supplies.

One of the larger cave walls of the city began to shift unnaturally, the rumble getting closer and closer until that wall seemed to suddenly collapse in a burst of dust. The crush and grate of rock echoed throughout the cavern, quieting it’s inhabitants. But the rock hadn’t broken nor had it become unsupported—no, it had been a completely controlled collapse that left behind a perfectly circular hole into the cave.

From the hole, hesitant figures in greys and browns peaked out, awe written over their faces. Mouths dropped open in disbelief, tears were brought to eyes.

The rebels sitting in wait for the evacuees hurried forward to begin managing the situation. The resistance members that had traveled home following the mission helped hand over the responsibilities. Hot meals were pressed into waiting hands, fresh clothes were stacked and ready to be handed out. Voices overlapped voices.

The large war machine rolled out of the tunnel following the mass of people. It’s engine still growled lowly, but all of the weapons on the ridiculous piece of technology had sunk back into the body of the machine, and fire no longer spurted out the back of it. If Borg Technologies created new inventions with sleek, minimalist design, then the Walker family created their inventions specifically with the ugliest scraps of metal and the oldest dated wiring they could find. The war machine reflected that—but, despite the sick chugging of the engine, it had yet to fail them.

An old couple, aged somewhere in their sixties, with shocks of white and grey hair above blast-goggles, leaned out over the top of it. Their smiles were warm and welcoming—as if they hadn’t just torn through a squadron of troopers not a few hours before.

“Jay! JAY!” The woman shouted, waving her arm.

Jay flushed and groaned. “Do they have to go around screaming my name like that? WHAT, MA?”

Nay chuckled beside him.

“DON’T YOU GO LEAVING UNTIL WE COME SAY GOODBYE, YOU HEAR?”

“YES, MA, I KNOW!” He turned back to Nya, rubbing his face. “I don’t know why they expect me to forget every time!”

Nya quirked an eyebrow. “The Feng Shui Mission?”

“That was one time and it was four years ago and it was barely a papercut.”

“You were doing physical therapy for two months,” Nya reminded him, frowning in disapproval.

Jay opened his mouth, thought about it, then closed it. “Okay, fine. But still—four years ago.”

Nya took his hand and laced their fingers together. With their hand-wrappings still on, it made for a bulky hand-hold, but they’d gotten used to it long ago. He huffed at her, but was instantly cowed at the contact.

He already knew anything she could say, so she didn’t say it. But ‘they just care about you’ or ‘you’ll never know how long they’ll be around’ sat at the tip of her tongue. After all, the Empire had taken her parents away long ago, along with Jay’s birth parents. His mom and dad were pretty much the only thing that any of them had left. Well, aside from Cole’s dad…but Nya was sure that neither Cole nor his dad had seen each other as family for a very long time.

And, up until very recently, Zane’s father would have been on that list of survivors.

“Did you want to come check up on the ‘machine with me and my parents? You know their whole goodbye-ritual involves me getting under the engine, but I’m sure they’d just give you a hug and call it good.”

Nya smiled. “Not this time, but let them know I love them. I’m glad they’re safe.”

Jay squeezed her hand. His brows tilted up in concern. His eyes were far too expressive for his own good. “You sure? Zane’s probably sent the report off to the council already, you don’t have to worry about it.”

“It’s not about the report.” She tilted her head towards the opposite end of the cavern. “I was going to go visit him.”

Jay followed her gesture. It took his gaze across the rooftops and tents laid out across the layers of cave. From where they were, among the crowd, the wall they were looking at wasn’t visible.

His mouth formed an ‘o’. He nodded at her. “Is it okay if I show up in a bit? I did promise I’d keep him updated on all of our heroic tales.”

“Yeah, of course,” she lightly punched his shoulder with her free fist. “Now, go see your parents—before your mom terrifies the new evacuees by driving the ‘machine all over Nagas looking for you.”

Jay’s face went a little slack as he considered the idea. “Oh, no. She definitely would. I’ll see you later, then?”

Nya hummed. Jay leaned forward to give her a chaste kiss on the cheek before bounding off. The engine of the war machine was hard to miss. She watched as he leapt up off the cave floor to bounce across stone rooftops. A few evacuees saw and pointed, delighted and intimidated by the unnatural show of strength.

She glanced off toward the outer wall of a half-collapsed stone building. Fairy lights had been draped over the half-destroyed wall that had been the victim of some ancient battle. Cole sat against it, one leg pulled up and the other splayed out, holding a rag under his nose. He looked out of it. Zane hovered above him, keeping him well taken care of. Cole’s nose had started gushing blood a few minutes before they’d arrived. They’d been lucky to be so close to their destination, by then. Pushing their elemental powers was no fun and Cole was asked to do so the most often.

She jogged over, dodging passed a couple of teenagers admiring their new clothes. It was sad—the clothes were simple and plain, but the fact that they were new was all that seemed to matter to them. Nya had been there, before. For a long time, their group of ninja had been less about rebelling and more about survival as they were hunted like animals.

“Hey.” She crossed her arms, leaning against the wall over Cole. Zane crouched next to their large companion, a water bottle offering in his hand. “How’re you feeling?”

Cole looked up with tired eyes, still holding the rag to his face. It was stained with red, and his gi was covered in dust. His voice sounded like he’d just woken up from a very long nap. “Like crap. But nothing a good night of sleep couldn’t fix. Or…maybe a couple nights. Just…give me a few minutes and I’ll be good to head out.”

Zane frowned beside him. “You’ve pushed yourself enough today. You wouldn’t want to do any further damage to your body—many lives depend on you and not treating your health would put them all at risk. Focus on recovery.”

“I’d recover better in my own bunk,” Cole grumbled. “You know we can’t stay long. Sensei would kick our butts if he doesn’t see us in one piece by sunrise.”

Zane frowned, but didn’t dispute that. It was true. And besides the protectiveness of their sensei, there was also the council’s rules.

Nya and the ninja were not allowed to stay in Nagas for longer than they could help it. Nya had found it unfair, in the beginning—after all, before it was the evacuation spot, it had been their temporary base for a few months after they’d first discovered it alongside their serpentine allies.

But she understood the logistics. If something happened in Nagas, the ninja shouldn’t be caught unaware, or the entire resistance would crumble. It was better to keep them separate from the main hub.

“Just relax for a little longer.” Nya patted Cole’s muscled shoulder. “Jay’s parents have him hostage right now, so you have an hour, at least.”

“That is an over exaggeration,” Zane told her.

Nya eyed him, irritated, but hiding it.

“What are you gonna do?” Cole asked.

Nya cocked her head with a small smile. Cole didn’t need to hear words to understand.

He just nodded.

“I’d go with you, but Zane would probably knock me out.”

Zane gave Cole a stink eye, then began to say “I would not render you unconscious, that would not help your healing at all.”

“It’s okay,” Nya shook her head, pushing off the wall. “I’d rather you rest. I’ll meet up with you guys when we’re ready to leave.”

Zane was looking strangely stiff, but she was also exhausted and sore from the fight followed by the four hours of her ass on stone. When they got back to their bunks and everything was calmed down, she’d check in on him, but right now, she needed a second to breathe.

Cole gave her a weary thumbs up.

She tried not to let her concern for Zane consume her thoughts. There were plenty of other things she had to be concerned about. For example, she’d done a head-count of the rebels that had made it back to Nagas with them…they’d lost nine comrades. Nine wasn’t a bad number, it was so far from the worst number they’d emerged from a scrimmage with. Even protests that didn’t make the news usually had casualties that were far higher than that.

But nine was too many, in her opinion. Because it hadn’t just been another resistance sting operation to bother certain factions or district police—it had been an operation headed by the ninja. The ninja were supposed to be the rebellion’s infallible trump card. Good men and woman had signed up for the liberation of Camp Tetsu simply because the presence of the ninja reassured them—Nya and her friends had promised to protect them all.

Nya wasn’t a stranger to loss, to failure—far from it. Some days, it seemed like every moment of her life was losing someone else, something else. All the homes she’d ever had—all the normal friends she’d ever made. Her whole family. Gone.

It felt endless, the heartache. Against the will of the Empire, she was so very small. For every trooper they took down, two more took their place. For every camp they liberated, it seemed like ten more cropped up somewhere else. It was easy to crumble under those thoughts. Many had. Most of the world had, in fact.

But she wasn’t allowed to. And she wouldn’t, even if she had to fight every day until she was wrinkled and old. She would always fight. Because he would have. And the last thing Nya would ever want to do was let him down.

She reached the edge of the cavern by shadows. She wasn’t looking for the hassle of trying to pass by the normal rebels going about their days, preparing for other missions, and training their hearts out. She’d found it quite uncomfortable, the way that so many of them gazed at her with awe and adoration when they didn’t even know her name. She passed a courtyard laid out with mats for training. She passed a neighborhood of tents that had been set up where the architecture failed. The string lights illuminated her path through it all.

The stone buildings cleared around one of the cavern walls. At the edge of the clearing was the building she and her friends had squatted in years ago. They’d stolen from stores and dug through the trash to turn the cavern from it’s suffocating darkness to a place that could inspire joy. It had been Jay’s idea, for them to use their downtime to light the place up. After they had, the Resistance Council had realized the potential the lost city held.

Before that, when they had been sure they’d found a long-term base for themselves, an altar had been erected.

It was a tradition of the ninja for every headquarters they created. They’d settle, train, and build the shrine for him.

At the base of the enormous cave wall, there was a small statue carved out of stone. It wasn’t life-sized. It had caused too much heartache the year that both Jay and Nya had grown taller than him. It was instead a waist-up bust on top of a short pedestal of a fifteen-year-old boy with spikey, gelled hair, a gi, and a sharp smile.

The tradition of theirs had been joined by every evacuee that had trickled into Nagas. As time had gone on, pictures and drawings of other loved ones lost to the Empire had begun to surround the statue, pinned up on the wall or painted directly onto it. It had grown and grown and grown until people had begun to need ladders to reach high enough to add more. Thousands of pictures were now scattered across the rock behind the original bust, creating a true, beautiful shrine, decorated with lanterns that had been nailed across the wall.

At the base of the wall, offerings to the dead lay piled up against it. Flowers at all stages of deterioration, the freshest ones looking only a few hours old. Childish drawings of stick figures holding hands. Rocks of unique colors or shapes, or small wooden figures carved by unsteady hands. Candles and incense, some lit and some having gone out. There were a handful of other rebels at the shrine, on their knees and praying. One was fully folded over with their head to the ground—another had their legs crossed, meditating. A child seemed to be sleeping against their mother’s side in front of a framed picture. She was lighting more incense.

Nya’s footsteps were soft. Here, no one would bother her, she knew. Everyone at the shrine was in their own worlds.

She approached the statue, seeing that a few offerings had been placed around the pedestal it sat on. She reverently cleaned it off, placing the offerings aside. Someone had even gone as far as setting a few coins down for him to collect in the afterlife. Nya felt like snorting. They didn’t even know him, they just knew he wore a gi, so they gave up the rarest thing among evacuees—money. Maybe she couldn’t understand, but she could be thankful. She just wished he’d been alive when so many people loved him.

“Hey, Kai,” she whispered, sitting down before the podium and crossing her legs. Sitting down, she found herself at eye-level with the statue. “It’s been a while. Sorry about that, we’ve had a lot more missions recently. But we’ve been doing good—we’ve freed a lot more people.”

It’d been ten years. The ache should have lessened. But, once upon a time, her big brother had been her other half.

“Sensei’s letting us use our powers during missions, too,” Nya told him. “It’s…weird. He kept us from using them, even to train with, for so long after you died. He was scared, I guess…we all were. We thought we were invincible just because we were elemental masters before we lost you. And I get it—we needed to learn to survive without our powers—and the Empire was hunting us down. Any screw-up would get some tip sent the Empire’s way. Now that he’s encouraging us to use them again, and all these missions…I think the Rebellion is gearing up for something big. I’d had a feeling they were planning something for a long time.”

The statue did not respond. Nya hadn’t expected it to. She didn’t even know if he was listening from whatever afterlife he’d found himself in.

Somewhere good, she was sure, if the afterlife really was a judgement of a person’s livelihood. No one had been a better person than her brother. He would have been the best of them.

“I’m not sure what it is, yet.” She clenched her hands into fists on her knees. “But if it involves that monster…I’ll be the first to volunteer. It’s been an entire decade already. I’m not going to leave you unavenged for another year, Kai. Even if that means I hunt him down against the council’s orders. I’ll do it alone if I have to—I’m strong enough, now, and I’m not scared of him.”

Nya was angry. She was so angry that sometimes she thought that it would eat her alive from the inside out. She knew that sometimes her sensei was afraid of that, too. But she was also tired. She was tired of the injustice. Her brother deserved to be at rest, wherever he was. Maybe then she, too, could find some peace, even in a world as miserable as this one.

She sighed quietly. “I know. You probably don’t want me to. You’re probably yelling at me for being reckless right now. But I’m going to do what I have to. For that, I’m sorry. I hope you’ll forgive me when we see each other again.”

She picked up a candle beside the statue and set it on the pedestal before her brother—his hands heroically poised on his hips. The pose had looked strong and proud when Cole had begun carving it out years and years before. Now that Nya was so much older than her brother had been…it just looked sad, his face so much more childlike than she recalled.

She crossed her arms on the pedestal and laid her cheek in the crook of her elbow. She let the warmth of the candle beside her bicep seep into her gi and closed her eyes to rest while she waited for Jay, her tired body catching up to her.

-

Zane undoubtably had the most attuned senses among the ninja. None of them knew why that was, yet, but they did know that he often heard, saw, or smelled things long before the rest of them did. It did wonders to alert them to danger. And where Zane failed, Cole would pick up the slack. With his ability to sense their surroundings through the earth, it was rare that the ninja were ever surprised by enemies.

Nya was aware of both of these facts, which is why she was keeping her distance as she was following them. Training with them had made her the perfect person to stalk them. She knew where their limits were, how to get around their awareness. It helped that the closer they got to Shadowspire, the colder the air became, the sharper the winds whipped, and the more the lights of the city disappeared.

Somehow, her training had not prepared her for big brother intuition. Which was bullshit—she’d been trying to work around that for a lot longer and had, apparently, had far less success.

“What the hell are you doing here?!”

Her shoulders were grabbed and she was turned around. She already a scowl prepared to meet her older brother’s glare.

“What do you think?” She said, crossing her arms, pretending that she wasn’t nervous to be caught. “I’m here to fight with you! If you’re risking your lives, why can’t I? I’m not letting you do this without me!”

“Yes, you are!” He growled, squeezing her shoulders. “You’re going to go back to the monastery and watch out for sensei, like we agreed!”

“We didn’t agree on anything, you just decided for me!” She knocked his hands off of her, gesturing widely. “Why? Why can’t I—?!”

“Because I said so!”

He was taller than her. He always would be. But Nya didn’t let his height nor the anger in his voice intimidate her.

“Just because I’m a girl?” She hissed, crossing her arms tightly. “You think I’m so weak, don’t you? Maybe you should remember who awakened their powers first! Before any of you, it was me! I’ve been training for years, just like you have, I’m strong!”

“I don’t give a fuck about that!” He inhaled sharply and grabbed his own face, running a hand down it. There were lines under his eyes, more than fifteen-year-olds should have. “You can’t be here because I need you to be safe! You’re my responsibility, it’s my job to protect you, and if you come with us, you could get hurt!”

“What if you get hurt?!” She demanded. “What am I supposed to do then?! I’m not just your responsibility—we take care of each other. As long as you’re going into danger, I’m going with you! So you might as well get on board!”

Both of them breathed tightly toward one another, red in the face in the same way.

Ahead of them, there was a soft shout from Cole. “Red? Red, where’d you go? We’re almost there!”

Her brother glanced back, his lips still turned down in a scowl. The red band around his arm stood out and his eyes seemed to catch on the cyan-colored band that was around the arm of Nya’s black gi. This was before the red band had become a moniker for normal members of the rebellion to wear—back when it had just been her brother’s, and not a way for troops to immortalize him. Back when he’d been living and breathing and not just another legend beside the ancient Green Ninja.

Her brother looked back at her. With his hood off, his ungelled hair was being pulled around by the wind. It tickled across his clean, young face. Nya’s, also too short and choppy to pull back, was doing the same. She brushed her bangs from her face angrily.

“Please, Nee,” her brother tried, his voice far more vulnerable. “Please go home.”

“I won’t. There’s nothing you could say. If you leave me here, I’ll keep following you,” she said. “As long as you’re here, I’m here. So could you please just trust me?”

They had a long staring contest.

He pulled his hood back on. She followed his lead.

“Fine. Fine, okay? But you have to listen to everything I say. If I say run, you have to run, understand me? This won’t be anything like taking down troopers or MPs. This is real.”

“I know,” she told him. “I’m not stupid.”

“…I know you’re not.”

They went around the bend. Three other figures stood waiting, colored bands on their arms. A large falcon sat on the shoulder of the boy with the white band, looking completely natural unless one looked close enough to see the lenses it had for eyes.

Jay’s eyes widened above his mask. “Whoa, is that—?!”

“She’s coming with us.”

Cole’s eyebrows pinched. “Are you sure—?”

“She’s coming.”

“…Okay.”

Zane’s eyes smiled at her. Her heart swooped with anticipation and she smiled back. This was going to be it. The five of them together—they were unbeatable. Not even Emperor Garmadon would be able to stand a chance.

-

Nya flipped over open air, feet landing silently on the lip of the next rooftop. Beside her, Jay caught himself in a trained roll that sent gravel scattering before he was on his feet and running again. The cool night air of the desert was a far-off thought, Nya now sweating beneath her gi. Especially considering Gongjang District’s notoriety for it’s factories and warehouses—the district did not disappoint, and as a result, it was warm, even in the dead of winter.

The quiet tat-tat-tat of Cole’s footsteps running across the large industrial piping beside the building alerted Nya to her companion’s position. Zane had completely melded with the shadows, not gracing them with a word since his mask had gone up. Nya didn’t even know if he was keeping pace with them or if he’d left them behind already. Wearily, she expected the latter, with how he’d been talking lately. After all, it wouldn’t be ‘efficient’ for him to slow himself simply for their sakes’.

In the distance, the blaring horn of a train cut through the early noises of the city. Likely the airtram, the trains that swooped aboveground throughout every district. They were reserved for large companies that could pay to have their cargo shipped and the upper-class who could afford the luxury. Everyone else used the trax below. Though it was incredibly early, the sky still dark, Gongjang was an early rising district. After all, machinery and production never stopped within the Empire. All of it was tightly controlled—the Empire’s grip on Borg Technologies productions specifically had gotten insane after they’d found out the company had been slipping the rebellion technology under the table. But all of the patrols and troopers were on the other half of the district.

The ninja were heading away from there, toward the abandoned outskirts that looked over the grasslands that had been a forest a few decades before. Now, the edges of the great woodland were barely visible, lumber work cutting them through further and further every day without bothering to replant. Warehouses long left behind and the shut-down factories of failed businesses and products now filled the outskirts of the east-face of the city. It gave plenty of places for a ninja to disappear when things got too hot around center city. And it was on the exact opposite side of the city from Shadowspire, just to be safe.

No one else but kids looking for places to fuck around went near the current ninja hideout—the warehouse Nya and her friends had been squatting in for a few months, now. She didn’t mind the district—even though it smelled bad and was smoggy and smeared in soot and grime. It was better than Stixx, where they’d been squatting last. She was fairly certain she’d had a contact high the entire time they’d been stuck there.

The three of them landed silently on the rooftop of the warehouse at the same time. Zane appeared, as well, behind Nya’s shoulder—she tried not to flinch. He didn’t even glance at her as he strode passed. Nya shot Jay an annoyed look over their masks. Jay shrugged.

Cole lifted up the skylight that was blacked out. In the darkness, the lights of the active portion of the city hardly reaching them, he looked like a shadow in his gi. Zane slipped down inside. Cole continued to hold it open for Jay to drop next. Nya nodded at him before swinging her legs in and letting go of the window lip.

She dropped down ten, twenty, thirty-five feet before her toed boots hit the mats below. The thud, thud, thud, thud of them all landing echoed in the space of the warehouse. Jay’s footsteps were the ones who padded off to the left, the tone of the echo shifting when he stepped from the mats onto the concrete floor. A lever was cranked with a loud creak and the sound of electricity humming to life filled the room.

Lights that hung down from the ceiling flickered, the old bulbs working hard, before steadying. The lighting from them was dim, hence the lines of string lights they’d dragged in and hung around the walls and the support beams, not unlike those down in Nagas. They bathed the large open space in blues and greens along with the industrial yellow. The lights illuminated the base they’d been living in for the longest time in years. Since the monastery, probably.

Their training mats filled part of the room, beside couches they’d dragged in that faced a small television screen sitting on an old crate. Most of the room was filled with their workshop—scraps of metal hanging from the ceiling chains and sitting on workdesks. Materials to cut, weld, and lift were set up alongside the benches covered in wires and nuts and bolts. It was a long-growing collection. Their bikes that had been smuggled out of Borg Tech and adjusted by Nya herself were still parked behind. Their shop area was a Cole-free zone aside from when they needed help with the heavy lifting.

On the other side of the room, their bunks were set up—though to call them ‘bunks’ was a kind way of putting it. Their futons, colored to prevent arguments, were laid out next to each other, their full packs placed in the space between them. If it came down to a quick escape, they were well practiced with rolling up their futons at the speed of sound and grabbing their packs before bolting. It would be fifty-fifty whether or not their pillows would make it, this time, and practically zero for the blankets. Which was a bummer, but ‘twas the life they lived.

Above the large warehouse, an office space was built with stairs leading up to it, separate from the wider space. It was closed off with windows and a door, the lighting inside currently flickering with warm orange, suggesting an open flame. Their sensei had claimed that space the moment they’d arrived and no one had argued. The only time the ninja used it was to sit around the large table within and discuss strategy. String lights hung off the bottom of it and between the handrails that followed the stairway.

As expected, it only took a few moments for the door to the office to open and for their sensei to step out. “My students. I’m glad you have all arrived safely.”

Nya and her friends all bowed in greeting.

“Hi, sensei.”

“’Morning, sensei.”

“Our mission was a success, sensei. Many lives were saved tonight and we were not followed.”

Nya straightened. She was tired. “I think we’re going to turn in for the day, sensei. We’re pretty beat and Cole had to do a lot of legwork.”

Their sensei frowned, concerned lines on his forehead. He brought forward his walking staff, softly tapping at the grated walkway he stood on. Their sensei was a relatively short-statured man, with a long, skinny beard of pure white, and a bald head hidden beneath the woven leaf hat he always wore.

As always, he wore a long, white cheongsam—a loose linen shirt with knots down the center, linen pants beneath.

“I understand. I am sorry to have to ask you all of this, but I would like you all to stay awake for a bit longer. We had a visitor come while you were on your way back and she has some urgent news. Trust me when I say that you will all want to hear of it.”

They exchanged looks. Cole looked like he wanted to groan aloud, but he just rubbed his eyes and nodded instead.

From behind their sensei, a woman of similar height stepped out of the office space, their sensei reverently making room for her. She was an older woman, but unlike their sensei’s timeless age, she looked somewhere between forty and fifty years old. She wore a button up and cargo pants, a blaster at her side, and a green ascot at her neck. Her hair was very long and beautiful, even streaked with grey, as was her face, despite her wrinkles. In fact, her age had only made her look more attractive. Her hair was pulled into a long braid, a thin pair of glasses on her face.

She was instantly recognizable, of course. Her smile was tired, but strong.

“Misako?!” Nya burst, surprise on her lips.

“We only just got back from a mission,” Jay pointed out, an irritated exhaustion in his voice. “Can’t we sleep first?”

Cole nudged him. “Dude. Have some respect.”

Jay mumbled an apology. Nya couldn’t blame him—Misako did always come herself when there was a mission to be given, and that was the only time she came around. Her visits couldn’t just be for tea and chats—after all, the life as a council member of the Resistance was a busy one fraught with danger.

“Hello, ninja.” She at least appeared sympathetic towards Jay. “I truly am sorry to have dropped in so soon, but I knew this information couldn’t wait. For what it’s worth, it’s good to see you all again in one piece.”

“What is it?” Nya stepped off the mats, closer to the catwalk. “Something big is happening, isn’t it?”

Misako pursed her lips and nodded. “Yes. I think it would be best if I explain it to you all over some tea. Me and Wu have already brewed some, if you’d join us.”

Nya grabbed onto the stairway’s handrail, fully intending to leap over before sensei’s voice stopped her.

He banged his staff on the grate once, huffing. “Not yet. All of you, wash and change first.”

“But, sensei—!” Nya began.

He sent a firm look her way. “Does Misako not deserve our respect? After providing for us and involving us in the rebellion’s matters all these years?”

Nya clicked her jaw shut, gritting her teeth. She bowed her head and released the railing. She heard Cole mutter some sort of affirmative, but she was already going towards their futons to pull out a change of clothes. The other three quickly followed her lead, digging through their packs. Sensei and Misako stepped back into the office room, the door closing behind them.

She couldn’t say sensei was being unfair—they all smelled like sweat and mud and the kind of dirty rain smell that sunk into clothes even after they’d been dried. At least the shower would rejuvenate her—then, they could all finally sit down. She couldn’t complain at the idea of tea, either. Their traversing across city rooftops hadn’t exactly been relaxing, having to dodge imperial blimps floating over the city, as well as security cameras that Jay pointed out, and patrols that drove up and down the streets.

After getting out of the scrapped together shower, she didn’t flick her hand to dry herself. She preferred the towel, and the way that her damp hair would stick to her neck, making her feel fresh and clean. She slipped into a T-shirt and a blue flannel over sweatpants and laced up some shoes. They often slept fully clothed and with shoes still on—just in case. Most of their habits had been learned the hard way. They’d been busted for rebellious acts as well as simply squatting or bumming around. Now that they had begun to use their powers on missions, it was only a matter of time before the Empire realized that they had survived their attempts at eradication following their failed assassination.

Nya didn’t know how the Empire had been satisfied by their deaths. Sensei had simply stopped worrying about it one day, and the Empire had cooled off their heels. Though they’d escaped the palace that day, they hadn’t left bodies behind. The Emperor had never seemed like a man-demon who would trust their deaths without seeing bodies. Nya and the others had theorized that their sensei had someone on the inside who had helped to cover it up. Why else would the Empire almost entirely forget about their existence?

Elemental masters were rare and extremely powerful threats—doubly so when it came to her and Cole, as they wielded two of the First Spinjitsu Master’s original gifts. Every other elemental master was but a mere fragment of one of the four, even Jay and Zane, though they were very powerful fragments. To simply let them all go into the wind, free to continue working with the rebellion—it wasn’t like the persistent Empire Nya knew. The one that had hunted down her parents’ home after they’d already died to ensure the job was done—before moving on to their young children.

But she’d left those questions to the past long ago. It was no good to look such fortune in the mouth. She’d accept their meager good luck when it was offered.

She was the first to emerge from the showers, still toweling her hair as she walked up the grated stairs toward the office.

Inside, the meeting table was surrounded with the perfect amount of chairs for them all, plus one extra, which she chose to ignore. The room stunk of their sensei’s lavender incense, though it was not. Instead, the many candles scattered around the room provided light. The colorful blues of the warehouse below sunk in through the windows. Mistako and Sensei had already set mugs of tea in front of the chairs, the two of them settled near the front of the table. Misako was not sitting.

The older woman smiled warmly at Nya when Nya sat down and held her mug, but didn’t yet drink from it. Nya gave her a tired, apologetic smile, wordlessly guilty for her impatience from before.

“How did the mission go?” Misako asked, leaning over the table. “Were there many prisoner casualties?”

Nya shook her head. “Almost none. It was even easier than we thought. A camp so far out from the city, and in the middle of nowhere…the imperials didn’t see it coming until they’d fallen for our plans. We did lose nine rebels in the firefight.”

Misako smiled at that. “That’s great news. And so few losses. You four have improved so much since you’ve returned to the field operations. I’m proud of you.”

Nya tried to ignore the little butterflies she got from that. Other than Jay’s mother, who was endlessly kind, if not a bit eccentric, Misako had been the only stable motherly figure in Nya’s life since she’d come into the rebellion’s care through Sensei.

“Thank you,” Nya briefly bowed her head. “We’re glad to be able to help.”

The door to the office opened and her three friends walked in. Zane had a sweater on, the spinning circle of light on his temple a solid yellow. It had been yellow for almost four days straight, now, having plateaued there after the red it had been spinning as they’d watched the Empire’s most recent execution on live television.

Cole had found his jacket, while Jay had layered on two shirts to keep warm in the warehouse. They all sat around the table, Jay next to Nya, bumping her elbow with his as he sat down.

“So, what’s the big news?” Cole asked, his voice low and groggy with exhaustion. He hung over his tea, closing his eyes at the sensation of the steam over his face.

Misako straightened, folding her fingers in front of her. She glanced at Sensei before looking to them all with steel in her gaze.

“As you all know by now, I’m sure, the coronation of the Emperor’s son will be taking place three weeks from today. The prince was an incredibly well-kept secret up until two years ago, when news of his status as Garmadon’s blood son was leaked to the public. It was a shock to Ninjago, so in order to cement his place in the royal line, he will officially be ordained as the Crown Prince on his coronation day. Before that time comes, we will be making our final move against the Emperor.”

All of them straightened in their seats, even Cole, at the shocking words.

“What?!” Jay yelped. “Already? Why haven’t we heard of this before?”

“Our plans have been in the works for a very long time, now,” Misako admitted. “But we’ve had to move up our timetables due to some complications. The Empire…as you know…found our connection with Borg Technologies and has already made a move to intimidate them out of dealing with us.”

She glanced sadly towards Zane. Zane did not react to this in his expression, despite her discussing the death of his very own father, Dr. Harish Julien. But the LED circle on his temple began to swirl red and his fingers tightened around his mug.

“Thankfully, Cyrus Borg is more willing than ever to continue supplying the rebellion with the necessary support, but the suspicions of the Empire are now on him, along with many other of our benefactors. Their war on the resistance has been taking it’s toll and we have been able to sense it coming to a head very soon. We must act now, before our numbers and resources are eradicated by the Emperor’s Imperial Commander and his troops.”

Nya’s hand clenched into a fist on the table. “Does that mean…?”

Misako looked at her and nodded. “Yes. We are going to raid Shadowspire, along with the largest Imperial Centers around the city, and take back Ninjago, once and for all.”

“Wow,” Cole said into his mug, staring up at Misako with wide eyes. “Just…wow. It’s…hard to even conceptualize what that would look like. A free world…Where would we even start rebuilding?”

The woman smiled kindly. “That’s something for us to consider when all is said and done. Let’s focus on getting there.”

“You are telling us this because we are going to be involved in this raid, am I correct?” Zane asked. His LED circle was back to spinning yellow. “And, if I may guess, you intend for us to confront the Emperor once more?”

The room suddenly felt colder. Nya glanced at Zane’s hands, folded docilly on the table, but the chill wasn’t coming from him. It was the reminder of that day.

Jay twitched beside her. Cole’s eyes jumped down to look into his mug.

“…Yes,” Misako said solemnly. “That is the hope. I know what I’m asking of you all is unthinkable. But the simple fact is that…there is no one else. The Emperor is capable beyond us mere humans. The elemental masters of the rebellion are our only chance. You’ve all grown so strong and powerful, while the Emperor has presumably remained as stagnant as he has for the last sixty-odd years. The difference will be enough. It has to be.”

“And what if that difference is balanced out by the Shogun?” Cole asked the question that was surely on everyone’s minds.

Nya’s hands tightened around her mug until the ceramic grew a hairline fracture in the side with a soft crack. Eyes around the room jumped to her hands. She quickly pulled away from it, clenching her fists into her lap. Jay reached over and put a hand on her knee, squeezing lightly.

“That is a fair point,” Misako said, eyeing Nya with some concern. “As we’ve observed, the Shogun is extremely competent in combat in any sense—including with the use of his abilities. We still aren’t sure the extent of what he can do. Then, of course, there’s the dragon of Shadowspire that he controls. And beside all of that, we have next to no information about the prince. We have no idea if…if he inherited any of his father’s magics. For all we know…he could be just as powerful as the Emperor himself.”

“Great.” Jay’s hand tightened on her leg. “That’s…great. Are you telling us this to make us feel better about our odds, or…?”

“We’ll be fine,” Nya suddenly said. He glanced over at her, squeezing again. “Don’t worry. I’ll kill the Shogun myself. Then, we’ll take down Garmadon for good. And, if the prince gets in the way…”

Tea began to sluggishly bleed from the fracture in her mug.

“Whoa, chill out,” Cole told her, frowning. “Isn’t the prince just a kid?”

Misako nodded. There was something strange about her expression—there was a grief there that she rarely let slip through. Nya had seen her after she had ordered rebels on suicide missions, after she had heard about the raid of the cave off of Nagas. She usually had a perfect poker face.

But the mention of the prince’s youth had her lips tightening and her eyes clouding.

“The whole point of doing this before the coronation is so that the kid doesn’t have to get off-ed with his dad,” Cole continued. “So let’s just plan on that, alright?”

Zane turned to him, frowning. “Sparing him would be very ill-advised. The most logical course of action would be to execute the prince along with the Emperor. If we should fail to do so, it would be very easy for a member of the royal bloodline to regain control of the Empire, which would defeat the purpose of—”

“What?!” Cole snapped, sitting up straight. “What the heck are you on, Zane? You want us to kill a kid? You?”

Zane didn’t looked miffed. “I am simply suggesting that it would be safest for the greatest number of people. Comparing that safety to one life should be out of the question. It is the reason we put our own lives on the line, is it not?”

“No! I mean—well, yeah,” Jay conceded, pointing across the table. “But also no! Look, we all signed up for this, but—this kid might have the worst luck ever in the dad-department, but he doesn’t deserve to be killed for it.”

“Nine of our companions died in order for our last mission to succeed,” Zane said emotionlessly. “I do not see how this is any different. Is it because of his young age?”

“Of course it is!” Cole said, gesturing with a hand. “He’s a kid! There’s a difference between a comrade dying beside you and killing an innocent kid! What do you mean you don’t understand that? You’ve always understood that. Better than anyone! Why have you been—Why have you been acting like such a robot recently?”

“Yeah, Zane, you’ve been totally off the last few days,” Nya agreed, leaning across the table. “You saw a cat up a tree the other day and didn’t even try to help it down.”

“He also suggested we carpet bomb the Capital Region and drew me up some diagrams for it,” Jay admitted sheepishly. “It was kind of creepy.”

Their sensei steepled his fingers over the table, looking at Zane with some concern. “I have to agree with your fellow ninja, Zane. There has been something different about you.”

“Oh.” Zane sat back in his chair. His gaze dropped from theirs and he stared down into his cooling mug. He technically didn’t need food or water, though usually he still ate and drank. But he hadn’t even touched the tea. “I…had not realized there was such a noticeable change. I apologize for any alarm I may have caused you all. I never wished to irritate or upset anyone.”

“We’re not upset,” Nya sighed. “We’re just worried. We know…We know that watching that broadcast—I mean, we can’t possibly understand what you’re going through. But…”

“We want to help you, man,” Cole said. “But you have to talk, not just bottle it all up until it comes out as weird fits of violence.”

“I do not require help,” Zane said. “But it is kind of you to offer. If you have noticed any differences in my tone and expression it is likely due to the fact that I have shut off my emotional processing until further notice.”

Nya and Cole shared a disturbed look.

“Wha…You can do that?” Jay sounded genuinely curious.

“Yes. It was quite simple. After…viewing the…my father’s death, my processors became inefficient due to the grief that my systems were not made to handle. I made the decision to temporarily block my emotional processing as best I could in order to remain operational at ninety-eight percent capacity.”

“That’s…That’s not healthy,” Cole said, shifting nervously beside Zane.

“Oh,” Misako reached out and put a gentle hand on Zane’s arm. Zane looked up at her. “Zane…no one’s body is made for the kind of grief you must have been feeling. There is nothing wrong with you. It’s…It’s natural to be overwhelmed in that situation.”

“I am aware,” Zane intoned. “I understand you are trying to reassure me, but I truly do not require such emotional support at the moment. I suggest we all move on to our more pressing matters.”

“Dude, you…can’t just go on not feeling anything,” Jay said. “What if you turn into a terminator or something?”

“I will not,” Zane said and it was almost in his old annoyed tone, but not quite. “There is nothing that would change the fact that I know I care about you all. But I will not be turning my emotions back on until our responsibilities are fulfilled. Now, please, may we continue with our very important discussion?”

“Zane,” their sensei said firmly. “We will be discussing this later, you and I. But for now, let us follow your fellow ninja’s advice, students.”

Cole looked like he wanted to argue, but he kept it to himself. Nya side-eyed Zane with equal reproach. No emotions? What did something like that feel like? Or…not feel like?

Sometimes, Nya’s emotions were so heavy, she found she literally couldn’t breathe. But the idea of them no longer being there was scary. If she couldn’t feel grief, would anyone have remembered her brother so strongly? Would she have forgotten about him? What about everyone else they had lost along the way?

The thought distracted from her concern as rage rose up in her, the discussion of the Shogun and the opportunity to finally take him down lighting a fire in her veins.

“Alright,” Misako agreed with sensei uneasily. She quickly regained her professionalism. “As for Garmadon and the Shogun, we’ve determined that it would be best if your fellow elemental masters were to take on this mission with you to guarantee your success. After all, if you fail against the Emperor, then the rest of our battles will be for naught. Therefore, Agents Griffin, Jacob, and Pale will be joining you in the raid.”

The elemental masters of motion, sound, and light respectively. They were the rebellion’s second elemental operations team, but were reserved for far more specialized cases, considering they didn’t have the training or youth that the ninja did. Jacob and Pale specifically were old-timers of the rebellion and legends in themselves.

Nya could see Jay trying not to make an audible noise of annoyance. They’d worked with Griffin before, at least, and Jay was not a fan. Her amusement was almost enough to make her forget—almost.

“What about the Imperial Centers?” Cole asked. “The refugees of Camp Tetsu won’t be near trained enough to overtake a place like that. Without them, we wouldn’t have the numbers for how many hijackings we’d need to take control of the Empire overnight.”

“That would be true if we were working with our population alone,” Misako smiled. “But Borg Technologies has been secretly mass-producing their latest android model for months under the Empire’s nose. In addition to the pledge that Chieftain Scales of the serpentine has given for aid, we will have hundreds of thousands of new troops when the day comes.”

All of them sat back, processing the facts Misako had laid for them. It sounded…plausible. It actually sounded like it could work—and it may even be easy in the event of the Emperor’s death. Sure, there would likely be skirmishes between the rebels and the factions left of the Empire when the dust settled, but that was far better a situation than the one they were in now—completely dominated, to be precise.

Even with all of this, they were far from being on equal footing. If it did work, it would be a very long, hard road of battles. But at least there would be a light at the end to watch out for. With the Emperor dead, things could only get better.

And with the Shogun dead, Nya could finally, finally feel avenged. Plus, the people of Ninjago might be able to sleep soundly and not have nightmares about the terrifying figure that boasted power and total militaristic control on television, the same one that threatened with the only breath in his inhuman body. And with the Shogun dead, the imperial military would collapse into chaos, making the rebellion’s job of a hostile coup even easier.

“The six of you should be more than enough to beat Garmadon,” Nya told them. “He’s our most important target. I’ll handle the Shogun myself.”

Now, it was Jay and Cole’s turn to share a concerned look.

Jay rubbed his thumb over the bone of her knee, looking at her with his big, deep eyes. “Nee, I don’t know if—”

“Don’t,” she glared at him. She flicked his hand off of her. “Don’t call me that.”

“I—Sorry, it was an accident,” he muttered. He quickly strengthened his voice. “You shouldn’t fight anyone alone, especially not him. We know better than anyone what he’s done and I hate him, too, but…the bastard's strong.”

“If I may,” Zane said, raising a hand half up. “I believe that Nya is right. As long as the Shogun is human beneath his armor, she has the greatest chance of defeating him alone, considering the techniques at her disposal. Also considering that Cole will do the greatest damage against Garmadon and is therefore invaluable to our fight, it would be unwise not to explore it as an option—all personal feelings and grudges aside.”

“Thank you, Zane,” Nya said, lifting her chin and folding her arms.

Zane shrugged.

“We have many days to strategize in different ways,” their sensei reminded them. “Do not be so hasty in your decisions. I know we have all waited for this time to come…as have I, for many, many years. But our minds must remain clear and in control now more than ever before. Do you all understand me?”

“Yes, sensei,” the all said together.

Sensei looked at Nya specifically, his eyes sad. “Nya. We must not allow hatred to cloud our judgement. We do not yet know what the future holds. Tell me you understand this.”

Nya bowed her head. “I understand, sensei.”

Her fists trembled with the tightness of their grip on her knees.

The anger coursing through her couldn’t be soothed by mere words, not even from her sensei. She ignored Jay’s worried stare in the corner of her vision, looking down at her tea. The liquid within the mug was trembling, too, a ring of cooled tea slowly collecting at the base of it.

It was all because of the Shogun. He was responsible for her brother’s horrible death. It was all his fault.

Maybe she could have blamed Garmadon. It was his orchestration, his Empire, perhaps even his idea to do what they’d done to her brother. But blaming the Shogun was so, so easy. It was easy for every hushed whisper, full of fear, when he was spoken of by innocent civilians. It was easy for the way his stupid helm appeared on imperial recruitment advertisements, meant to inspire strength and unshaking loyalty. It was easy for the way that she’d watched him execute innocent people and rebels that she had once known, been friends with, with a completely emotionless swing of the sword. As if some of them hadn’t been screaming and begging. As if some of them hadn’t been younger than her. For seven years, she had watched those executions and her hatred had grown and grown and grown.

The amount of rebel blood on his hands since he’d gained his status as Commander of the Imperial Armies was more than any imperial official in thirty years. He was ruthless. Slaughtered and hunted without thought, with so much skill, it was almost like he had special insider knowledge of the resistance. He certainly had any number of spies within their ranks. Under his guidance, the Empire’s war against ‘terrorism’ would no doubt wipe them all out, given a few more years. The rest of the rebellion would be gone before Nya turned thirty.

But most of all…what had been done to Kai on his behalf. She would never forgive him. She would not let him continue to live for all of his crimes against humanity. And for his crimes against her.

“I have one final mission to request of you all before the time comes for us to make our move,” Misako announced. “It may be the thing we need to at last tip the scales in our favor.”

The ninja leaned forward.

Cole had forgotten his tea. “We’re listening.”

-

The gifts of the elements upon elemental masters was an idea that was grounded in known rules. Elements followed the direct bloodline. The first born child of an elemental master would eventually be the one to inherit the element. In the case of two elemental masters having children, those elements would be split between the children or the gene would be held dormant within the only child, until the next generation to have multiple children. At some point over the course of thousands of years, the children of two elements had their gifts fused and adapted to create the lesser elements.

The ability to harness an element was not passed on until the element’s current user passed on. Nya was never sure what had happened to her parents, but due to this explanation, she knew that they had died at some point in those four years that she and her brother had been abandoned in their childhood home. She knew this because of that day, when the imperials had come for them, and she had instinctually used the element of water to defend them.

Because of this, she became obsessed the with the idea of finding the next elemental master of fire following their escape from Shadowspire. Because her brother had no children, and therefore no direct bloodline, the element of fire would be cast out into the world, the ability given randomly to an infant born within the same minute that her brother had died. There were old superstitions among the elemental masters that an infant born in such a way was a reincarnation of the previous master they had inherited the element from—an idea that the bloodline truly would be given the ability to continue, despite the new blood.

She knew her companions were extremely concerned about her and this idea of hers—and her master pulled her aside to remind her multiple times that it would likely be many years before the infant was grown enough to find their potential and release their flame. She was aware of this. But they simply didn’t understand.

Zane was an amnesiac without any family. Cole’s mother had died when he was only five, leaving him with few memories of her, and his father was a complete bastard. Jay’s parents were still alive and loved him. Even with all the loss they’d been through, they couldn’t understand.

Her brother was all Nya had ever known. He had always been there, standing between her and the fire. He’d loved her so, so much, he’d sacrificed everything for her. And she always had done everything she could for him. It had been them against the world. There was, in fact, likely an unhealthy level of attachment there, but that was what happened in such a traumatizing world, when two kids were abandoned for years on end. The other ninja couldn’t understand all he’d done for her that she would never be able to repay, things he would never ask nor want her to repay.

Without him…she was so suddenly lost and clinging onto hope. And she was a thirteen-year-old girl who had fought the devil himself and had her brother taken from her.

As the years went by, her obsession began to cool as she was distracted by her other responsibilities, as she lost hope and conceded that her sensei was right—there was nothing for her to do about the element’s reincarnation.

Then, three years following her brother’s death, rumors reached them about a man who wielded flames like a dark sorcerer. The situation was not dissimilar to where they’d found themselves in the future—with Misako Montgomery, then rebel-Captain, visiting the large maintenance room tucked within the trax tunnels that they were temporarily squatting in. It was nice and private but loud with the trax cars blasting by every once in a while. Sleep was next to impossible, and their futons were overlapping with how closely they had to huddle up in order for everyone to fit in. At least their sensei didn’t need to sleep—he meditated upright all night, watching over them. It wasn’t much help—the noise of every train that passed by was enough to startle them all awake every time.

“You don’t mean—!” Nya clutched at her own hoodie just to have something to hold onto. Her heart was soaring like it hadn’t in her entire sixteen years of life.

“I don’t know, yet,” Misako put her hands up. “I only had the fortune of meeting your brother a few times when we began working together, but…I don’t think it’s him.”

“Not…? Who else would be able to control flame?!” Nya demanded, probably too harshly. “What, are you saying a three year old is out there fighting the good fight?! Why couldn’t it be him?”

“That’s just it,” Misako told them solemnly. “The flame-user isn’t fighting against the Empire. The report I got my hands on said that he aided a platoon of Skulkin dispatched to a village that had taken control back from the imperial forces there. The entire village was burned down. Of the four hundred residents…there were no survivors. It was wiped from the map.”

Nya froze.

Her friends seemed to all take in sharp breaths. Their sensei had no more to say, leaning against his staff. For the first time in a long while, his expression matched his age, the deep wrinkles around his face darkening with grief.

“Oh,” Jay exhaled.

“No,” Nya said. “It can’t be.”

It can’t be. Her brother would never use his flame on behalf of the Empire. He’d kill himself first. That was just the kind of stubborn ass he had been. Though the idea made her heart ache, it also reassured her.

Zane spoke up, his voice soft. “Are you…certain of this event, Captain?”

“I am.” Misako sighed. “We had insider information. The report is likely accurate.”

“Then it is not him,” Zane said firmly. His hand touched Nya’s arm, his blue eyes unyielding in their confidence. “It can’t be. Something sinister must be afoot.”

She hesitated, then nodded at his assurance.

“Is the Empire trying to mess with us?” Cole asked, weary and angry. “What is this?”

Misako looked passed them, sharing eye contact with Sensei. The four of them glanced back, as well, all of them sporting desperate, pleading expressions. Nya searched for any kind of explanation in their sensei’s face—any reason for Misako to be looking at him as if the two of them knew something that the ninja didn’t.

Their sensei sat down heavily on the chair before the small industrial table. His bones seemed to creak as he did, knuckles still tight around his staff. The air about him was very tired. Tired to the bone, the emotion etched too deeply with the sadness and loss that pressed the weight in.

“Sensei…?” Jay asked. “Wha…What is it? What’s wrong?”

Their sensei’s grip on his staff creaked. His eyes were hidden by the brim of his hat. “I had prayed that it was not so.”

Nya’s heart twisted at his tone. She had rarely ever heard Sensei sound like that—or anything less than utterly calm and in control. But the naked anguish in his voice was impossible to ignore.

“What?” Nya demanded. “We deserve to know whatever it is that you guys know!”

“Yes, you do,” Misako sat down. Her posture mirrored Sensei’s—shoulder tense with regret. “There was…a theory. A theory that, through the raw strength of Emperor Garmadon’s power, one of the most powerful beings to ever walk Ninjago…an element could be stripped from it’s holder and given over to another willing host.”

Cole leaned on the table, the grip on his crossed arms turning white-knuckled. “You think the Empire stole Kai’s powers?”

“…Yes.” Misako looked…very sad. “You all have the right to know the truth. It would have been an agonizing process…and a lengthy one. He…would have been forced to live through every second of it. The elements of the masters are intertwined with your very souls. To have it stripped clean…the body would not be able to survive.”

The room was silent. The dark, concrete walls began to rumble as a train approached, the rumble getting more and more violent by the moment until the table was shuddering in place. The light hanging above them flickered and began to sway back and forth. The noise was thunderous as the train passed on the other side of the door, the wheels rumbling across the tracks.

Even as the noise retreated, the light continued to sway. Nya saw it highlight one cheek, then her nose, then the other cheek before her face was briefly left to the dark, only for the process to begin again with the next swing.

Her body had locked down. She stared ahead, mind emptied of everything except for…

“No,” she choked. “No, that can’t be true. Because…Because if it was, that would mean that he didn’t die in the fight. That would—It would mean that–that he was still alive when we left him behind.”

The dread of the idea was plain to see on the faces of her friends. They stared forward, unbreathing, as the strangling horror closed in on them all.

Her throat closed up. Kai screaming. Tears welled in her eyes. Kai in pain. Her hands begun to shake. Kai crying out for them. Her breathing went shallow. Kai begging for it all to end, only for the torture to continue.

They’d abandoned him to that fate. Garmadon hadn’t been the one to kill him—they had.

“No,” she gagged through her tight throat. “No, no, no…”

Zane rose without a word and wrapped his arms around her. She couldn’t even grab onto him, process the fact that she was being held. The chill of Zane’s embrace only provided her the image of her big brother, alone, his soul torn asunder, dead and cold while his fire was gifted to an evil imperial thug. The fire he’d sworn to do good with, to save people with, now used to destroy lives and all he’d ever fought for.

She sobbed, covering her face with both hands.

A hand fell on her shoulder, and a larger presence wrapped his arms around both her and Zane. A shorter form joined them on their other side, his thin hand touching her back as he hugged them, too. Cole and Jay and Zane and Nya created a square of grief and she should have been reassured, comforted, by the mutual horror and heartbreak they felt—but instead, all she could focus on was the missing piece to their set of five.

It was there that her agony turned into rage. The blame that she shrouded, taking the responsibility for the creation of the Shogun on her own shoulders, was overweighed by the blame that she violently pointed outwards, towards the monster himself.

She swore that she would hunt down the man that had corrupted Kai’s righteous flame with evil and she would send him to hell if it was the last thing she did. Even if that meant throwing herself down into the pit with him.

Chapter Text

“Kid…you’ve gotta get up some time.”

“No. You shouldn’t even be up right now.”

“Does it look like I’m an invalid? I’m fine. So you can stop pouting.”

“You’re not fine! You got punished because of me.”

“Doctor Eun-ji healed me up. He’s got the magic stuff. Can’t even feel it anymore.”

“That’s not the point!”

“Then what is it? The chamberlain couldn’t even get your ass up and I had to walk all the way over here—so tell me what’s going on.”

“I hope you’re kidding—and even if you are, it’s not funny.”

Kai sighed, his arms crossed loosely as he leaned against the wall of Lloyd’s bedchamber. His shoulder was taking the brunt of his weight, of course, though that didn’t help much.

Lloyd was curled up in his sheets, his back to Kai, one of his fancy pillows pressed against his head, so the only visible part of him was the pale hand that held the pillow in place. His words were muffled through the cocoon of sadness.

It had been three days since Lloyd had snuck out of Shadowspire to traverse Ninjago City. The kid had only gotten out of bed when there was no other choice given to him, and even then, he’d been utterly quiet and as skittish as a servant who had the misfortune of cleaning the emperor’s throne room. Kai hadn’t had a chance to talk with the kid since then—he’d been out of commission for almost an entire day, which was an incredibly annoying thing considering how many responsibilities Kai had on the daily. He was still playing catch-up.

In reality, he should be finishing the paperwork on his desk—requests for regional aid, approval for changing of orders, reports of security incidents, the list was endless. Or he could have been writing out a plan for the meeting he’d called of his generals—Or he could have been flying down south to survey the damage done to Camp Tetsu the same night of Lloyd’s rebellion. Or he could be following up on numerous tips flagged as authentic. First Master forbid he ever get to the change of command in the Capital Region. He could be doing so many things that would actually begin taking care of the ever-growing pile of things he had to do.

But he wasn’t doing any of that. Instead, he had responded to the chamberlain’s concerned prods, and was now hanging out in the chambers of a grumpy teenager.

“You can’t just rot away in bed,” Kai told Lloyd—who huffed at him. “You’re going to be the Crown Prince in a few weeks and sleeping your problems away isn’t going to work, then.”

Lloyd grumbled into the sheets.

Kai sighed, more dramatically this time, and walked over to the bed. He grabbed Lloyd’s pillow and jerked it from his arm, holding it above his head. Lloyd made a sound of displeasure, crossing his arms and steadfastly staring at the wall, back still to Kai. His hair was a greasy mess and his eyes were bloodshot.

“What was that, Your Highness?” Kai asked dryly.

“I said that it doesn’t matter what my title is,” Lloyd scoffed. “We both know my father would never allow me to rule. That would require him giving up his own power.”

“Don’t be such a pessimist.” Kai slapped him with the pillow. “Maybe he’ll get cancer.”

“He’s an immortal demon. Stop that!” Lloyd grabbed onto the pillow and ripped it out of Kai’s hands.

Finally, Lloyd eased his pouting enough to look at Kai, even if it was to glare at him. Kai quirked an eyebrow, crossing his arms again. The movement sent a twinge of pain through his shoulders and down his spine, but he didn’t let it show—Lloyd was none the wiser. He never had been. Lloyd, even at seventeen, even after the throne room, seemed to think that Kai was invincible.

Kai was okay with that.

Lloyd groaned in surrender and sat up, holding the pillow to his chest. But the fake pout drained out of him to reveal genuine distraughtness beneath. His hair hung in his face as he hunched over, curling his legs up to pin the pillow between his legs and the arms that embraced it.

Kai worked his jaw. Fucking Garmadon. He sat at the edge of Lloyd’s bed. He was back in his work casuals for another hour, at least, so the bed wasn’t crushed under the heavier armor of the Shogun.

Kai didn’t know what to say, so he quietly waited, his hands in his lap. Lloyd picked at the sleeves of his white bedrobes. There were bags under his eyes despite wasting away for hours on end. He was starting to look too much like Kai for them having no relation.

“That wasn’t the first time,” Lloyd stated, staring down at the sheets. “Was it?”

It was hard to ignore what he was referring to considering the amount of stitches burning across Kai’s back.

“…No.” Far from it, Kai didn’t add. Lloyd’s worldview had been shaken enough.

The prince’s fingers tightened around his pillow.

“My father…he isn’t a good person.”

“Yeah. He’s a monster.”

Lloyd gave him a sharp look. Confusion and surprise and perhaps a bit of blame in his gaze. The blame was understandable—after all, what wasn’t Kai’s fault? Everything that had ever gone wrong could be traced back to a mistake that he had made. However this time around, he didn’t consider what he’d done a mistake.

“Then why do you work for him?” Lloyd asked. “You say that he executes people that you think are innocent, he–he hurts you, and…if he’s a bad person, why do you do everything he says?”

Kai slid his fingers together over his knees. He felt tired. “The world isn’t black and white. Everything is more complicated than that. I follow his orders because it’s my duty. As long as I’m fulfilling my duties, I keep the status and power that I’ve worked for. This world only provides for the strong. Your father is the strongest there is, so Ninjago was forced to bend to those rules because of him. Fighting against them…it does nothing but cause misery.”

“Fighting against them?” Lloyd scowled at him, angrily pointing at his shoulder. “Doing your duty hasn’t done anything to prevent your pain!”

“I’m not talking about me. There are billions of people under the protection of the military. If I didn’t do this job, then someone else would. At least, if it’s me, I know I’m in control of all the decisions that affect so many people’s lives. And I’ll know you’re safe.”

“Even if it means you have to kill innocent people on his behalf?” Lloyd asked, voice small. “Even if it means my father tortures you because I made a mistake?”

“Yes,” Kai murmured. “The needs of the many will always outweigh the needs of the few. And your health will always be more important than mine—because you’re the prince and it’s my job to look after your safety.”

Lloyd looked away, laying his head back on his arms with his shaggy hair facing Kai.

“You sound like some stupid fortune cookie,” the prince mumbled, bitter acceptance in his voice.

“I’ll take that as a compliment. And…what happened wasn’t your fault, you know. You weren’t responsible for my punishment, no matter what bullshit your father was spouting.”

“I lied to you,” Lloyd muttered. “I snuck out behind my father’s back. He wanted to hurt someone, but he couldn’t hurt me, so he hurt you. There isn’t a way you can spin it that it wouldn’t be my fault. I could have gotten you killed.”

“The emperor wouldn’t kill me, he likes me too much.”

“He doesn’t like anyone.”

“Fine, then I’m too useful for him to want to lose. So you can relax already. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Why not?” Lloyd looked back up at him, eyes fierce. “Why haven’t you? You can leave whenever you want, no one would stop you—no one even could. If he’s hurt you all this time, if he’s—Why have you stayed?”

Kai raised an eyebrow. “I just told you—”

“No!”

Lloyd choked up. His eyes were becoming freshly misty—throwing the reminder of the throne room a few days prior into Kai’s face. Garmadon had known exactly what he was doing. After being protected so long, Lloyd was utterly unprepared for the agony that it was to live in this world.

Maybe that was Kai’s fault, too.

“Why?” Lloyd repeated with a croak, rubbing his eyes. “Why aren’t you upset? Why aren’t you angry? Just—Just tell me you’re disappointed or shout or scold me or something! Why can’t you just be angry that you got hurt?! That I lied to you?! How can you not be mad at me?! How can you not hate me?!”

“Hate you?” Kai gaped. “What are you talking about, kid?”

“You might be responsible for a lot now, but back then–back then you could have left! Before everything got so–got so complicated, but you stayed, and the only reason you stayed was because—!”

Because of Lloyd. The prince didn’t need to finish his thought aloud.

Lloyd began to cry into his hands. He was an easier crier when in private and Kai had always been the one to comfort him.

This time, he hesitated. Because Lloyd was correct. Kai had only stayed for him, and to be perfectly honest, the responsibility of Kai’s post was nothing compared to him being able to stay with Lloyd in exchange for doing his duty. Lloyd no longer needed him, not in the way that Kai had set out to be needed—the kid was already so good. He was so good that there was almost no way that Kai had truly had a hand in it because Kai had never been as good, as pure, as soft-hearted as Lloyd was.

But there were a few hard lessons Lloyd had yet to learn.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Kai grabbed Lloyd’s arms and pulled him upright, forcing his hands from his face. His eyes were rimmed with red to match his irises, eyebrows turned up in pain. “Cut that out! I’m never going to hate you. Nothing that has ever happened to me has been on you, got it? I’m a grown man, I can make my own decisions. And what your father did was not your fault. He was punishing me because he knew I let you go—he just said what he said to make you feel like shit. That’s what he does.”

Lloyd didn’t struggle against the manhandling. His blubbering paused and he sniffed wetly. “Wha…What?”

Kai loosened his grip, patting his arms rather than bruising them. His smile was weary. “You really think you could have gotten out of this damn place without me knowing? You’re lucky that the servant who overheard you was one of mine—if it had been one of your father’s informants, you would’ve been on lockdown before you could even cross the bridge and your friend would be getting his dues from the dungeon.”

“You—” Lloyd looked like an android on a reboot. “Huh? You…helped me?”

His shock seemed to have completely halted his tears as his mind struggled to balance both of his emotions.

Kai huffed and released Lloyd, only to ruffle his greasy hair. “I am so far from disappointed in you, kiddo—I’m proud of you.”

The feeling was so much more intense than any pain he’d had to endure. The day on bed rest, the amount of work he now had to do, the torture of that night—all of it paled in comparison to the warmth Kai felt in his chest. Lloyd had taken initiative. He’d decided he wouldn’t be a mindless pawn of his father’s, regardless of whether or not it had been in conscious effort. He’d been in the world.

It was all that Kai had ever wanted for him. All that Garmadon had ever tried to prevent. The punishment immediately following Lloyd’s brazen actions just spoke to the fear that the emperor seemed to hold upon learning of this treachery. He’d done it so that Lloyd would never, ever think of doing something like it again. Now, Kai had to correct that. He had to keep Lloyd’s hope alive, even following what was likely the most violence the boy has ever witnessed.

The prince’s disbelief was visible.

“Oh,” Lloyd stared at him. “Then…you were the one who messed up the scanner for me, weren’t you?”

Kai quirked a brow. “What scanner?”

“The…The one down at the barricade? Right?”

Now that the kid mentioned it, Kai might have heard of a glitch in the system while he was being updated from the treating room…but he’s also been high off his ass on Doctor Eun-ji’s magical herbs. Honestly, he was still coming down from those.

“No, I definitely thought that you didn’t deserve to have a night out if you couldn’t find a way passed the check by yourselves,” he said honestly. “Didn’t your friend have a plan with that?”

“How did you know—?” Lloyd scowled at Kai’s smirk. “Never mind, I get it, you know everything that happens in Shadowspire. Um…but, speaking of Brad…I…haven’t seen him since that night. Did…I mean, he’s not…?”

“He’s alive,” Kai confirmed, eyes flickering towards the door. “I removed him from the identification system and erased his history in Shadowspire. He’ll be turned away for invalid ID if he tries to get back through the Veil.”

“You…fired him?” Lloyd’s expression fell. “But…why? His family owed a debt to the Empire, didn’t he?”

“I absolved it,” Kai sighed. “You have to understand, Lloyd—I’m not sure who tipped your father off—it could have been any number of people or a security system in the city—but he most likely knows that your friend helped you leave. He won’t go to the hassle of hunting a servant down that is worthless to him now, but if your friend were to show his face here again, he’d be killed. It’s for his own good.”

“Oh…” Lloyd took a deep breath. “You…You saved his life and freed him from his service. Kai…thank you.”

Despite his words, Lloyd’s expression remained drawn and down-trodden, his grip around his knee tightening. His gratitude was real—but so was the torn emotions on his face.

“I’m sorry,” Kai said. “I know he was your friend.”

“No, don’t—don’t apologize. It’s okay. Really, I’m happy for him. He deserves to have a life without being stuck here forever.”

“Hey.” Kai messed his hair up again. Lloyd slapped his hand away after only just patting his curls down. “Don’t be so grumpy. Your birthday parade and your coronation are still going to happen in the city. After that, you’ll get plenty of action out there, right?”

“Yeah, sure,” Lloyd scoffed. “I’ll get to see it all from my little display case. Can’t wait.”

With that, Lloyd fell back onto his pillow, hands curling his sheets over his shoulders once more. He released a huff of discontent as he hit the mattress, staring at the wall once again. At least this time Kai could see his miserable face over the kid’s scrawny shoulder.

“Lloyd…”

“Forget it. This is just…this is just my life. Like my father says…I might as well accept it.”

Kai closed his eyes. He felt heavy with grief. Two nights ago, he had failed Lloyd like he’d never failed him before and this was the result. Lloyd, after talking about going outside the peaks for so many years, was finally giving in…because he now know that if he didn’t, he could get Kai punished again.

In the same way that Lloyd’s well-being had been held over Kai’s head to manipulate his actions at points in the past, Garmadon now flipped their positions. Kai knew all too well how Lloyd was feeling, why he was giving up so easily, and it made Kai’s blood boil with an ancient rage that quickly simmered out. It had been years too long to properly hate the emperor the way he once had. His body had grown so tired of it. It was almost background noise, as steady a part of his life as Garmadon’s atrocities were.

It didn’t make seeing the dull look in Lloyd’s eyes any easier, the light drained from them.

“Alright, Your Highness.” Kai patted Lloyd’s knee with a gentle hand. “…Alright. Just…get up and walk around at some point. The chamberlain nearly chewed my head off, worrying about you.”

Lloyd rolled his eyes, pulling the blankets higher.

Kai stood up, hands naturally finding the indents of his belt. He eyed Lloyd’s back through layers of plush cushioning. He breathed out. “I’ll be working in the city on and off for the next couple of weeks. I’ll be leaving around noon today—I should be back by sunset.”

The prince mumbled something.

Kai loomed over him. “Eh?”

Lloyd turned to look over his shoulder. His eyes were firm, despite the redness. “Be safe. You better not be fighting until your back is really healed.”

Kai gave him a lazy bow and salute, more mocking than official. “Aye, aye, sire. No combat for me. If you need to contact me—”

“Captain Hutchins,” Lloyd turned back into his pillow. “I know. Just…Just come back.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine.” Kai’s chest was heavy. “…I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

Lloyd did not ask what he was going into the city for, nor did he beg for further details following a terse response from Kai. Kai found himself hesitating, naturally waiting for Lloyd’s curious inquiries, but Lloyd just remained curled up under his sheets.

For a moment there, Kai had thought he’d successfully coerced Lloyd into life, only to be disappointed.

The prince had been incredibly shaken by his father’s actions and Kai hadn’t been there to reassure him in the wake of the event.

He’s a strong kid, Kai tried to tell himself. He’ll be okay.

Thinking that way, he could almost convince himself. Unfortunately, he had other responsibilities, whether he believed Lloyd could handle it or not.

Kai opened the door with only a soft click. Lloyd didn’t stir before it closed just as quietly between them.

Outside the bedchamber, Kai’s hand found the wall and he leaned heavily against it. He pressed his teeth together, inhaling deeply through his nose and letting the long breath out between his teeth. His back was on fire. Every shift of the shoulder or the waist reminded him that he’d been down half the proper amount of skin that should have been there.

First Master, the emperor had been truly angry with him this time. Kai hadn’t displeased the demon-man quite so severely for years. In fact, he hadn’t given Garmadon a reason to punish him with pain since he’d been promoted. Garmadon had been far too content with fooling around with the city’s politics and political alliances, causing mayhem until Kai could no longer ignore it and was forced to clean up every mess. Usually, if the emperor was displeased with him, he’d simply order Kai to wait until it got truly irritating to deal with. At his most irked, the emperor would put someone Kai despised in political office, or First Master forbid, a high military ranking. He’d promptly order Kai to leave them be, to stew in his own distain of them.

It wouldn’t do, after all, for him to bloody Kai too often. Word might spread that the empire’s favorite mascot wasn’t as unfeelingly, unabashedly, unfailingly loyal as he was portrayed to be. Kai would have thought that after years of torture, he’d be grateful to be punished in comparatively petty ways as he’d grown into an adult—but at one point, he’d gotten used to the pain. The annoyance and time taken away from him as he had to deal with regional grudges and assassinations and the fractures between different political systems in the city was far more irritating a punishment. And when Garmadon touched his perfectly tailored chain of command within the military—oh, nothing made Kai bristle more.

But he would accept the emperor’s judgement with humility and grace. And grinding teeth, as always.

He exhaled, pushing off the wall before glancing down the hall. There were no guards posted within eyeshot to see his weakness. He’d known this before, of course, but it was best to double check. Even outside of the armor, he knew who he was. Weakness could not be tolerated.

Still, the pain was beginning to become too crippling to ignore after a night of unsteady sleep. It would effect his job if he didn’t relieve it. The physician had demanded to see him in the morning, anyway. Kai begrudgingly found himself heading towards the treating room.

Guards he passed bowed their heads respectfully, chins low, their stances stiffening. Kai kept his eyes forward, barely noticing. Servants who recognized him hurried to stop and bow at his passing, as well, but some were too green or in too much of a rush to know the face beneath the helm. He eyed them passed the sharp angle of his nose, but didn’t find himself minding. Most of his attention was put to keeping his expression flat despite the sharp pain from every movement. Damn armor straps. His heavy armor was going to be an agony.

The sound of tromping boots caught up with him. “My lord!”

Kai tried not to sigh. “What is it, Lieutenant?”

“News from the garrison,” the boy in the armor of the Imperial Guard fell into step beside him. “Cyrus Borg has returned in response to His Majesty’s summons. He is en route to the palace as we speak.”

Kai did not frown. “Is that all?”

“Yes, my lord. All other traffic has had the proper identification and that palace servant who lost his has been expelled from his service in Shadowspire. We are expecting no other guests today. All training of the garrison is on schedule with no security breaches to report.”

“And is Doctor Borg being properly escorted?”

“Yes, my lord. The boneguard has been dispatched, as per His Majesty’s orders, to greet Borg at the Black Gate.”

Kai nodded sharply. Their marching boots echoed though the hall, but that echo softened when they began to walk along the windows to the courtyard. The mid-morning light was still dim and unimpressive within the Veil, but the lights within the valley made up for it. Servants outside scurried about, but their long fabrics were blowing around less than usual. It was a calm day, which seemed petty of the universe, considering how much there was for Kai to do.

“Good. Return to your post.”

The boy stopped and bowed as Kai continued walking. “Yes, my lord.”

Kai stepped into the Grand Hall and strode across the beautiful marble floors. Servants polishing the weapons on the walls or dusting the decorative vases stopped to bow. None greeted him with words. The guards on duty dipped their chins. Kai flicked his hand in dismissal and they all went back to work. He avoided glancing towards the grandiose black doors that led to the throne room, which even now, wafted of dark intentions. The emperor resided there, still, and the aura of darkness no doubt had to do with Cyrus Borg’s summoning.

Kai knew all about it, of course. If the repeated intimidation did not work to get the information out of the famous genius, then the emperor would begin turning to more barbaric methods. Kai hoped it did not evolve into that, not because he cared whether or not Borg was tortured—but he knew it would be yet another thing to add to his busy schedule. It would be annoying.

The palace treating room lay only a hall away from the throne room, purple torches flickering on either side of the doorway. The corrupted flames reached toward Kai, begging to be released from their unnatural suffering, their nausea trying to force it’s way into Kai’s consciousness. Kai ignored them and opened the door.

The physician was hard at work, poking at some guy’s foot.

The guard had stripped his boot and shin armor, his leg held high in the air by the eccentric doctor, who stooped over him in his medical robed gown, draped entirely in white. A sheer hat, a sui'ei, sat on his head like a bowl, the feather-like fabric strip draped down his back from it. The elderly man had saggy skin and large ears, and hands that grasped far too vicely.

“Ow!” The young guard was complaining. “Are you trying to wrest my foot from my leg, old man?!”

Doctor Eun-ji wacked the guard’s shin with the prodding stick he held. “Do not disrespect me, boy! You were the fool who developed moldy feet because you do not change your socks!”

The guard squawked in offense, but his red face did not appear to have a retort. “Well, I—That’s not—OW! Stop prodding so hard!”

The young man was clutching onto his helm like it was a stuffed animal at a pediatrician’s office. Kai wanted to pinch the bridge of his nose and groan.

Instead, he stepped into the treating room with heavy feet to announce his presence.

Both the young guard and the physician glanced over. The guard instantly lost all color in his face. The physician looked pleased.

“Shogun,” Doctor Eun-ji greeted with a smile, still holding the man’s bare foot. “What a pleasant surprise!”

The old man’s hands flexed.

“OW!” The guard howled, finally jerking his foot from the physician's hold. He scrambled to grab his removed armor, moving his scowl from the doctor to rush a bow. “Greetings, my lord commander! I—I was just leaving!”

Kai just quirked an eyebrow and pushed the door behind him open for the young guard to rush through, one foot bare, his arms full of boot, armor, and helm. Kai swore that every new crop of graduates from the lower layer got younger and younger. They did not, though—he’d chosen them all himself and they were eighteen years old, no less. Had those in the palace seen him that way when he’d been eighteen? They couldn’t have—he’d become their Captain at that age already. Perhaps the garrison didn’t work their cadets hard enough.

The treating room was rather humble, with only three empty cots with curtains pulled back, as well as a working table of metal, lined with white paper. A long wall of window cabinets, stout bottles, flat caps, and glasses filling the shelves behind, as well as various supplies that Kai was little schooled in behind the firmer cabinet doors. Give him a first aid kit and he’d know what to do with it, but anything else was beyond his expertise.

“As I live and breathe, the Shogun has returned for treatment, as per my own medical advice!” Beside the cabinets, the physician washed and disinfected his hands after stripping his sterile gloves. “Is the world coming to an end already?”

Kai scowled at him. “Stop smiling like that. It’s unnerving.”

“I can’t help it, my lord,” the man chuckled, drying his hands. “This is such an occasion. Please, take a seat.”

Kai rolled his eyes, but holding the door open for that guard had made his back pull in a hot flash of pain, so the doctor could clearly see his grimace. There was no hiding that this was a necessity.

He unlatched his gauntlets and set them in a neat pile on the nearest cot, reaching to his sides to unclip his breastpiece. He dutifully ignored the parallel images that threatened to press into his mind as he followed the same rigorous process as the one he had in that throne room a few nights prior. This time, the discomfort in his back was almost too much for him to lift the armor from his shoulders.

Freshly gloved hands hooked under the straps on his shoulders and lifted.

Kai grabbed at the unexpected hands, turning to glare at the physician’s innocent expression. “I can do it myself. Let go.”

“Yes, I’m sure you can, as you don’t feel pain,” the man drawled sarcastically. “But I would rather you not rip any of your stitches trying to prove your masculinity as it took me five hours to put you back together. Did I not tell you to keep from raising your arms?”

Kai just glared at him.

The door to the treating room opened. Kai suppressed a full-body twitch—he did a lot to prevent anyone in the palace outside of his few trusted to know when he was wounded. Why had Doctor Eun-ji not locked the door this time?

Thankfully, it was only Captain Hutchins. Kai relaxed a little. The physician took his relaxation as permission to raise his arms, but Kai tugged the man’s wrists back down to scowl at him again.

“Captain, welcome,” the physician greeted. “Would you please tell our incredibly wise and intellectual lord commander to follow the medical direction of his primary practitioner?”

“You’re insufferable,” Kai grumbled.

“Stop being stubborn,” Hutchins frowned under his helm. “You’ve a duty to heal as quickly as possible so that you may best protect the prince, do you not?”

Kai scowled at him. The man used to same damn line every time—and it worked every time. Kai was preventing himself from receiving the best possible care for the sake of his reputation. His reputation mattered more than anything—anything, except for that.

Hutchins waved the physician back. Hutchins was a very tall man, for a mortal, a few inches taller than Kai’s six foot stature, and the man was broader all around. As long as Kai did not have his heavy armor on, Captain Hutchins would no doubt be the most intimidating man in the room. The empire was good about finding the biggest and strongest to fill in the ranks of the Imperial Guard.

The captain removed his helm, setting it beside Kai on the metal table. Kai huffed, but begrudgingly accepted the help as the man lifted the breastplate over his head. Kai unbuckled his shoulder pieces while the piece was set aside.

Kai let himself hiss through his teeth as he shrugged the two layers of his gi from his shoulders. The sterile gauze that stiffened his entire back wrapped over the top of his shoulders and hugged his sides, where the whip had gone beyond it’s target. The entire area felt hot which was alarming, considering he didn’t feel heat in the traditional sense.

Doctor Eun-ji peeled back the tape starting from his shoulder. Kai knew better than to try and turn his head far back enough to get a look—he didn’t need to waste the pain.

Hutchins hovered behind him, as well, surveying the damage that remained.

The physician clicked his tongue. The chilled air on Kai’s wounds stung.

“It must be true, what they say,” the doctor said grimly. “The elemental masters are certainly the descendants of the First Master—because no mortal man is as lucky as you are, my lord. You should have needed a few skin grafts, with how much damage there was, but it seems as if the chiyu has been doing it’s work.”

It’d better be, Kai thought. Because it tastes like complete ass. Shouldn’t magical cures taste, I don’t know, more magical?

And lucky? Kai couldn’t even laugh, knowing it would cause him pain. Even now, without the weight of his gi, he could feel every pull of every thread stitch that didn’t belong in his body.

“That is good news,” Hutchins sighed. “How long will it take?”

“I should be able to pluck the stitches before the prince’s coronation, worry not.”

“Alright,” Kai said, bored. “Now can I please be re-bandaged and given something for the pain so that we can all be on our way? Captain, what are you doing here?”

“Oh, my. I think I’m becoming senile already,” the physician leaned around Kai to stare at his face, his wrinkles lined deeper. “Did the Shogun just ask for pain medication?”

“He did.” Hutchins frowned and leaned forward to press a hand to Kai’s forehead. His glove was rough. “Perhaps he’s coming down with an infection. He’s feverish.”

“Don’t patronize me,” Kai flicked Hutchins’ hand away.

Hutchins’ twitching lips gave away his jest. Perhaps if Kai was in a better mood, he’d give a few dry words of sarcasm himself, but he was in a foul mood, and it was getting worse by the second.

“Of course not, commander,” the captain monotoned so smoothly, anyone else would believe him to be completely serious. Kai raised an eyebrow at him. “I apologize. I’m here because I wanted to know how your health fared.”

“I’m fine.”

“He is still extremely injured. Here, drink this, my lord.”

The physician placed a glass vial in Kai’s hand. The brown and green swirling liquid had unidentifiable floaters inside of it that bubbled to the top. Kai gave Doctor Eun-ji and silent, do I have to? Will I die if I don’t? Can’t I just suffer?

“Drink!” The physician sung, turning back to his cabinets.

Kai grimaced shortly before throwing the back the magical concoction. It burned down his throat.

He gagged despite himself.

The door to the treatment room opened enough to let a figure slip through. Kai was tempted to throw the glass on instinct—if only to hear the doctor’s disappointment—but it was yet another unalarming man. The chamberlain was clad in his usual garb and head covering, his elderly face even more scowling than usual behind his spectacles.

The door was quickly closed by his hand. Chamberlain Noble spun on them. “Doctor. His condition?”

“I’m perfectly fit,” Kai snapped.

The doctor snapped on fresh gloves. “Many days to go, in the way of healing, even with the aid of chiyu. But he will be fine. His Majesty knows the consequences of his actions quite well, despite how it may seem.”

“I have a list of chores to handle, if you’d speed this up,” Kai reminded them.

It was so annoying when the three of them were allowed in the room together. They were the only group of old codgers brave enough to talk over him. It made Kai feel like a seventeen year old boy again and he didn’t enjoy that feeling. He was a man, now, and ranked far above them all, he did not need to be treated lightly by any of them.

“Of course, of course,” the physician murmured, unrolling fresh gauze at Kai’s back.

“How fares the prince?” The chamberlain asked, folding his hands in front of him. “Has he emerged from his chambers? I have not seen him in the dining hall, yet.”

“No, he’s still pouting,” Kai sighed. He curled his fingers under the lip of the table to juxtapose the pressure on his wounds. “I’m sure he’ll be alright soon enough. He’s a teenager, they have phases. Send Jenn down with a meal, he’ll accept her company.”

The chamberlain frowned. “I am sure he would prefer your company over his maid’s. You’ve hardly reassured him as it is.”

“Yes, well,” Kai said eyed him dryly. “I’m aware Shadowspire and it’s inhabitants get to live in blissful ignorance, but the Empire outside the Veil is cracking at the seams. Someone has to hold it together. Lloyd will be alright for another day. Maybe you should try reassuring him, for once.”

“I have,” the old man snapped. “For an entire day, I was consoling him, while the physician kept you alive by the skin of his teeth! Do not chastise me for my failures when it was your foolhardy decision that has caused all of your issues, as well as mine!”

Kai’s knuckles whitened on the table’s edge. “I’m aware that it was my own fault and I don’t regret it. I knew what I was doing when I gave that order—The prince deserves more than this damned place.”

“You may be privy to most decisions made for His Highness, but letting him trounce around the city alone was not your whim! It was reckless and selfish and you are no longer a boy! You hurt the prince and you have caused other pain.”

“Do not…lecture me.”

Sweat was beginning to shine on the faces of the older men.

The chill of the palace was entirety gone—replaced by the sickly feeling of having sat too near a hearth for too long as the temperature in the room steadily rose.

Chamberlain Noble was a strict, fair man. But he knew nothing of pain. Not the way that prisoners learned down in the dungeons—and certainly not the sort of pain that made up the building bricks of the city beyond the Veil. Whatever fallout had come of Lloyd’s excursion—a few dismissed servants and one measly girl’s hand—they were not pains, they were not losses. Even if a few lives had been lost, it would not have been enough to count as a failure to Kai.

Kai had seen too much and he had done too much to see through the gaze of an elderly man with bloodless hands. That man had been intimidating to a fifteen-year-old boy, but it had been a very long time since that boy had breathed.

The chamberlain stiffened, and he glared at Kai. “I am simply speaking the truth. You may know violence, but Lloyd had not before, and you have now introduced it into his world in a way that he was not ready for. I hope his tour of the disgusting lower districts is worth that to you.”

His tone was unyielding, but Kai’s sharp gaze caught the way he shifted under his heavy robes in the heat.

“Chamberlain.” Captain Hutchins’ voice was low. “You’d do well to remember your place.”

Kai jerked forward at a jolt of pain at his lower back. His eyes jumped away from the chamberlain, a low growl in his throat.

“Sterile rooms need to be kept cold, Lord Commander,” Doctor Eun-ji reminded him. “Please turn down the temperature.”

Kai grumbled, but forced relaxed, the heat slowly dissipating as the physician finished taping off the gauze.

A knock on the door came. Finally, someone with some etiquette. Captain Hutchins gave the Lord Chamberlain a stink eye before going to answer the door. The captain’s wide form blocked any visibility as he only opened the door far enough to speak through it in quiet tones.

Kai brushed off the physician as soon as his back had been bandaged once more, pulling his gi back up his shoulders. He grit his teeth at the drag of the heavy fabric, but it was negligible. He re-tied his belt and pushed himself from the table by the time Captain Hutchins had finished speaking with whatever servant or guard stood on the other side of the door.

Kai had raised his breastplate above him and lowered it back over his shoulders before Captain Hutchins could rush over and strangle him. He ground his teeth through the pain of it, but got the satisfaction of armoring himself. Captain Hutchins just shook his head in disapproval.

“Is there news?” Kai asked, re-cinching the straps at his sides.

“The generals await you at the Imperial Center. You’ve been summoned by His Majesty before your departure.”

Kai nodded. He slid his gauntlets on and secured them to his arms one after the other.

Chamberlain Noble stopped Kai with a touch to his wrist. Now, standing as he was, Kai was taller than the man, though the chamberlain’s hat made up for his height. Kai twitched an eyebrow down at him.

“Shogun. The prince needs you. Return swiftly.”

Kai took pity on him. “I will. I’m leaving any matters of his coronation to you while I’m gone, Lord Chamberlain.”

“Yes, my lord.”

-

Kai had first donned the heavy, extravagant armor of the Shogun seven years ago. He’d been eighteen when he’d first been ordered to the steps of the Imperial Center to swing the executioner's sword. Kai had not felt bad when that head had rolled. The Emperor had ensured that it had been someone that the both of them could agree was evil at heart. A serial killer who had raped and murdered innocent, young lives. The man had been on the news for months. The public had been terrified of the horrifying stories of a mortal eating the flesh of every day citizens for no reason other than his own sick drive.

It was perhaps the first thing he and Garmadon had ever agreed on, after Lloyd’s importance. So Kai had not felt a hint of guilt, even when the blood splattered up his armored arms. In fact, he may have even felt vindicated—it had been justice, then.

As time went on, the crimes of those set for public execution became greyer and greyer. A businessmen who had extorted his workers to their deaths. A woman who had murdered her newborn child after being refused an abortion. A rebel who had blown up an empty Imperial truck. A teenager who had spread ‘terrorist propaganda’ through artwork.

Kai simply became more and more numb to the reasoning Garmadon offered him. It was no longer a justice, but it was a job, and if Kai wanted to ensure Lloyd’s future, if he wanted to ensure Ninjago’s future, he completed his jobs.

It was shortly after those public appearances that he was promoted within Shadowspire, and a handful of years after when he was promoted to a Commander of the Armies. He had once been a spy, an assassin, hidden away for Garmadon to use as he saw fit, hence the jealous secrecy of his identity and face—now the helm he wore graced the holovisions that painted across the Ninjago skyline. Promoting justice, peace, security. He knew the truth. Many knew the truth. Many did not.

The armor weighed heavier on his shoulders on that day than it ever had. In it, he was taller, stronger, seemingly more invincible, but the sharp curves and the layers of metal and leather dug into his back and shoulders.

Under the mask, he was free to grimace as he so wished. Fresh air was filtered in to ensure he could breathe well during combat. His own voice became alien to himself, but he’d had years to come to appreciate the monotone. He never had to worry about his inflections, any weakness of his voice, because there never could be any. He had become the monster that haunted nightmares—and the savior that graced good dreams. More than a man, a symbol.

Underneath it all, he was Kai, the orphan of a dead family, the orphan of a dead cause.

Now, when he walked the halls of the palace, people rushed into their lowest of bows, no matter their status or rank. Some dropped their knee, out of steadfast loyalty or deep rooted anxiety. He saw fear in their faces. He did not mind. He loomed above them all.

Guard he passed saluted sharply in their bows. “Commander!” they greeted in sync, nothing more.

His footsteps were heavy, metallic, the banners along the passageways trembling.

The guards stationed before the throne room were the most decorated of them all. They raised their pikes and slammed them into the marble flooring as they saluted him.

Kai inclined his head. They opened the grand doors.

The Emperor sat upon his seat of bleached bone, his head propped up by a loose fist. He was either contemplative or very bored. His glowing eyes flickered Kai’s way as the doors closed behind him, shutting out the natural lighting from the windows. The torches around the throne room wailed for him.

Where Kai had once felt fear, there was now only a trickle of trepidation and a host of weariness. In his cavern-like throne room, without the boneguard present, the Emperor had always looked achingly…alone.

“Shogun,” the Emperor lifted his head. “Leaving already?”

“I am, sire,” Kai lowered himself to one knee. His voice was deep, mechanical. “You requested my presence?”

“Yes.” Garmadon’s tone reverberated. “How are you? Your injuries?”

“I am well,” Kai assured. “I have returned to my duties since yesterday.”

“Good, that is good…your absence has been felt, and since we last spoke, the rebellion has grown bolder. I trust you have news regarding the destruction of our southmost containment camp?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. I have my best men looking into it. They’ve already reported to me with the intelligence of some of the survivors—we may assume that there were unregistered elemental masters involved.”

These reports had not been helpful—all they’d had to tell Kai was that the fire had raged hot and the storm had been fierce. Kai could only surmise that elementals with the rebellion had been there because of some reports of one man lifting an entire support beam, and a few figures in color-coded gis. It sounded all too familiar to Kai.

And it filled him with an all too familiar loathing.

Above him on the dais, the Emperor seemed as aware as Kai.

“Wu’s new playthings, no doubt,” the Emperor snarled, his fist tightening as the lines of his face distorted briefly. The sleeve of his robe floated in the air. “Time is of the essence, commander. I want the rebellion and these ninja to be dealt with before my son is to be presented to the populace. We cannot afford any more delays and my patience wears thin. You will do whatever it takes to ensure their fall.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Kai bowed his head once more. “I have pulled the generals from their duties in order to do as you say. With their might, Wu’s fools and the rebellion will not last in their hiding. Patrols will be increased ten times what they are now and more spies will be deployed into the rebellion’s ranks. I can sense that we are already closing in on them. We know they are in the tunnels and it is only a matter of time before their stronghold is found.”

“A matter of time?” The Emperor growled, glaring down at him. “I have given you time again and again. I have given you the greatest of armies, the finest of resources. Yet, the rebels still challenge my rule and the Sage of the Bamboo Forest remains elusive. Rumors of the Green One grow. If you cannot handle this, I will not hesitate to unleash measures that will leave no room for mercy.”

Kai’s heart skipped a beat. The threat was not a new one.

“Understood, Your Majesty. I assure you, the rebellion is weaker than ever before and these sudden attacks are nothing but the dying wail of a beaten animal. The Sage of the Bamboo Forest and his followers will be on their knees before the month is out.”

“I do not want them on their knees, commander,” the Emperor leaned back. “I want their heads brought to me upon pikes. This will be the end of those who dare threaten my Realm, one way or another.”

“I will not fail, Your Majesty.”

“I know, commander,” the man-demon hummed. “I know. Despite your recent transgressions, I do not doubt your ability. Now go.”

“At once, sire.”

Kai stood up.

“Oh, commander.” The Emperor’s red eyes flashed. “I noticed you’d forgotten one of your generals when you sent the requests for their congregation. I took the liberty to invite him on your behalf.”

Kai gritted his teeth. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Emperor Garmadon flashed him a sickly amused smile. “You are welcome. I will be looking forward to your return.”

Kai swept from the room, glad the Emperor could not see his bared teeth. The man-demon’s audacity truly matched his royal throne. Kai should have expected the Emperor to attempt to throw him off his game in one way or another, but he supposed he hadn’t considered that the Emperor would go as far as summoning the general that Garmadon himself was most wary of.

But, oh, how the Emperor enjoyed putting Kai in uncomfortable situations, no matter the consequences. Consequences could be delt with after he was properly amused, after all. Because, in the end, no threat to the Emperor was a true threat when he walked as a demonic god among men, so he could afford his entertainment.

The guards saluted once more as he strode through the doorway. They did not attempt another greeting, perhaps able to sense his worsened mood.

He did not make any stops along the long hallways, the garden beyond the corridors, or along the stone steps on the backside of the palace property. The hike up beside the sheer drop was assaulted by cold winds, but Kai did not notice within the confines of his armor.

He felt the warm presence in his mind long before he entered the Dragon’s Keep. Images of golden sunsets and glorious lava rivers passed along the pleasant feelings of home. Some tensity bled from his shoulders at the assuring mental connection from Dreadmaw.

A light-hearted rumble greeted him, Dreadmaw lifting her massive head like a cat. She’d scattered the gold that was piled up in the room and scorched it with flame until it was malleable enough for her to deem worthy of laying upon. She had effectively turned every coin in the room misshapen, but despite it being Kai’s fortune, he had never cared.

‘Hey, sweetheart.’ He sent fondness through their mental connection, patting her snout that she impatiently nudged his hand with.

She snorted, satisfied, and smoke drifted up from her nostrils. As her muscular body shifted and rose, her spine rolled, scales glowing briefly around the spikes of her body before cooling back to shining red.

She sent him images of a young boy’s frowning face, concern the most prevalent emotion tinging it. Through such images and feelings, Kai and Dreadmaw were able to effectively communicate.

“I know, he’s upset,” Kai said through his vocoder. Dreadmaw’s spiked tail was coming around to trail across his boots. “But he’ll be okay. Did he come by to see you?”

The dragon’s tail began to loosely circle one of his legs. She’d been able to sense Kai’s pain a few days ago. She could sense it even now.

“I’m alright,” he smiled behind his mask. He patted her snout with both hands. ‘I’ll live, anyway. You up for some flying?’

Warmth filled his mind again and she spread her wings, shaking them out, and pulled her tail away to beat it twice against the ground. The Keep shuddered.

‘I’ll take that as a yes,’ Kai conveyed silently.

Dreadmaw turned her head and nudged her own helm of twisted metal. It was as heavy as Kai likely was at the moment, settled on the ground where he’d slipped it from her horns before.

She maneuvered her head to the side so that it could slide back on with help from Kai’s deft hands, the large piece of metal clinking into place. It shaped around her eyes and down her snout like a blackened skull, adding more unnatural horns to her crown. It may have been heavy, but it did it’s job, and protected her head in the event that they got into a scuffle with a feral dragon that had tripped through the Realm Portal or escaped Imperial servitude.

The dragon bowed her head and Kai climbed up her neck. She gave a warning growl when she felt his pain twinge against the twist of his hip, the stretch of his shoulders.

“Relax, I’m fine,” Kai patted the scales along her neck. They flared with a glowing orange and she rumbled.

He passed along the image of the Imperial Center as their destination. There was one in every region—but the Imperial Center was straddling the line between the Lianhua Region and the Crane Region. Kai hadn’t chosen it because of it’s political importance, he had simply chosen it for it’s central location. The Empire’s generals would be able to make the trip within the days he’d ordered it.

Dreadmaw’s reptilian body shifted beneath him, drawing her weight down and coiling her muscles. Kai clung to her with his armored legs, holding on to the short spine in front of him, but he wasn’t afraid of falling. Holding onto her as he was, their mental connection drew stronger, until it was almost as if he could see the world through her eyes. He moved perfectly along with every change of her weight. He knew as her wings unfurled and spread high above him, and he knew to brace when she leaped into the air.

The first few beats of her wings were heavy, harsh, forcing him to hold on tightly. But soon enough, they were rising higher and higher, above the Keep, the gardens, and finally the tallest spires of the dark palace. The wind could not breach his armor and the chill was beat back by the heat of Dreadmaw’s sizzling limbs.

The short moments that they were within Garmadon’s magical curtain seeped a chill even through Kai. But they burst passed it soon enough, visibility returning on a bright blue spring day. The city lay sprawled out before them, sparkling and alive with the noises of urban life.

The flying didn’t feel great on his strung-out body and he could feel Dreadmaw attempt to make up for this, climbing high into the clouds before stretching her wings out and gliding until her talons began to brush the higher buildings of the Capitol Region. It was much slower than she could have gone, but he couldn’t find it in himself to complain.

Cars honked and the citizens of the city looked like ants far below. He watched as the airtram weaved around buildings, support pillars holding it high above the streets. An imperial blimp floated near a BorgTech building. He saw his own face—or the mask of the Shogun, at least—plastered over a holographic advertisement that encouraged enlistment. ‘Serve With Honor, Defend With Pride!’ The neon words flashed out in smooth animation, replaced with, ‘Strength In Unity, Power In Purpose!’

Dreadmaw swooped passed the blimp, quickly leaving it behind them.

The ride was only a half hour, but Kai’s body was numb with discomfort by the end of it. This time around was far worse than the long flight back from the Dune Sea.

The massive statue of Emperor Garmadon marked their landing point. It was made out of solid obsidian, polished to a sheen, his lower hands on his hips, while one of his upper hands gripped the hilt of one of his four katana and the final hand raised in a gesture of decree. It was circled by flags of the Empire, standing in the courtyard before the actual political center. Kai would roll his eyes at it, but he’d exhausted that reaction in his first dozen visits to the place.

Seeing as Kai had sent no warning ahead, there was no greeting party, but people on the streets stopped and stared, pointing, in awe as Dreadmaw lowered, beating her wings to slow their decent. She landed heavily and Kai’s armor jostled against his shoulders and lower back—a permanent grimace was stuck on his face. He looked up to glare at the stone cold face above him. The hell are you looking so smug about? he thought to himself.

Dreadmaw released a crocodilian rumble, low-pitched and with the scales of her throat shivering. She spat some glowing embers out of her mouth, apparently casual for a dragon, but the embers landed very clearly at the foot of the statue.

‘You were bowing to him a week ago,’ Kai reminded her glumly.

The hatred that boiled across their bond from the dragon was unsurprising, despite his words. Dragon and oni could never hold anything but contempt for one another.

Kai flicked a finger, forcing the embers to sizzle to nothing. He swung his leg over the dragon’s neck and dropped to the ground with a thud.

Citizens were crowded along the sidewalk, but none dare stepped onto the property of the center to get any closer. Dreadmaw rose her head high up, her great helm eclipsing the sun and drawing a shadow over the onlookers. They gasped and whispered, but…they smiled. Their eyes were alight with amazement and an overflowing trust.

Kai turned his back on them, leaving Dreadmaw to her preening under their attention. The dragon often grew lonely in her Keep, he knew. She would find a spot to roost until he was finished.

Politicians and military officers walked up and down the granite steps that spread beyond the grand statue and the lengthy fountains that spouted into the air. The government officials were all dressed in sharp kimono and other robes, all sleek and pristine, proving their earned status of work in the Imperial Center itself. They slowed and eyed him, the military officers offering sharp salutes.

Kai ignored them all, the great, spiked shadow he cast crossing the grounds with him.

He was greeted at the door, but he didn’t even spare those below him a grunt of acknowledgement. These were all people who had gotten where they were through politicking, which Kai did not respect in the slightest, nor did he bother to keep up on. All of their faces looked the same to him and each of their voices sounded more honeyed than the last. The smart ones simply stepped out of his way.

The walls, offices, and open spaces of the modernized building was a carbon copy of every other Imperial Center Kai had ever been in. He was forced to bow his head in order to fit through the occasional door with his spiked helm.

He did not need the pointing fingers to know where he was going. He could sense the qi of the elemental masters and simply followed the sense of power that radiated from them.

The elevator to the top of the shaped building was made of clear glass. He watched as the forms he had brushed passed sunk lower and lower down the cavernous, open hall until the elevator rose above the next floor. Then, he turned to watch out the window into the courtyard. Dreadmaw had bowed her head down towards a child clinging to their mother’s haori. They both looked marginally terrified.

The dragon simply sniffed them, making their clothes flutter. Kai felt a faint sense of curiosity across their stretched bond. He allowed a small smile behind his mask.

The elevator pinged.

The glass doors opened to a long hallway much darker than the wide hall below. Above, there was a thin skylight that ran across the ceiling until it hit the end of the path, where a single door sat. The Iron Hall. The room where all the governors met when crisis came to the Empire. It was said that the Great Betrayal was plotted from that room, along with the Gure Massacre of 32 AFE. This was before, of course, when the governors were given control of the military. It was long before Kai’s time that the Emperor learned better—to group political power and military might together was simply asking for coup after coup.

Now, the Iron Hall went largely unused. Kai was blearily unsurprised that his generals had commandeered it and had a few theories as to who could have had the presumptuous idea.

Kai strode across the hall. Muted discussion could be heard, but his footsteps were not quiet, and the voices faded by the time he was opening the door.

The Generals of the Empire sat beyond the door, around the circular conference table with seven of the eight chairs filled. All of them had gone stiff or straightened in attention. Light spilled across them from behind, throwing their faces into shadow, the entire wall on the opposite side of the war room made of floor to ceiling windows. It faced the beautiful park beyond the Imperial Center, where Ninjagoan families, couples, and elderly were enjoying the blue day.

The air tasted metallic through Kai’s mask.

Icy silence fell over the room. He could sense their dread at his arrival.

General Ash, sitting nearest the entrance, quickly stood from his chair and saluted against his chest. His eyes were filled with unwavering loyalty, his yorio armor, metal laced together with silk, was polished to a white shine.

“Good morning, Lord Commander!” He greeted.

Kai gestured for him to take a seat. The boy of nineteen didn’t hesitate to follow the silent order, sitting before what smelled like a cup of coffee. Seven other steaming cups sat around the table.

General Skylor, next to the boy, was equally as attentive, but held a different kind of gaze. Beneath her steely exterior, there was a certain knowing look. Leather armor protected her over a dark gi escribed with the emblem of the empire.

General Tox offered a curt nod in a rare show of impulsive reigning. Her legs had very clearly been kicked up on the table not a moment before he’d walked in, and even still, her finger tapped repeatedly on the table.

General Shade leaned back slightly, his expression a picture of perpetual disinterest. The middle aged man was evidently not disguising his displeasure at being summoned. His keen sense of self-preservation still kept him in line, as it always did.

General Bolobo, the eldest among them, offered a small, wise smile beneath his carefully trimmed beard of brown and grey. He had seen much in his years and carried his experience like a great elephant over his weary shoulders.

General Chamille raised her chin to greet him. A small smirk was playing at her lips, her own cup of coffee close to empty and being swirled around by a slow, deft hand.

And, finally, there was General Morro, directly across the table. The man remained stoic, his face betraying nothing of the simmering bitterness that seemed to skate out with every word he’d ever spoken. His discontent was well-masked with the quiet resolve, but the immediate tension in the air was undeniable.

“Generals.” The voice that escaped Kai’s vocoder was low, rumbling, lacking all emotion. His flat gaze held as much care as he swept across them. He did not sit. “Our emperor’s patience is not limitless and neither is mine. The rebellion has grown bolder as their ranks weaken. Within the month, we must find their headquarters and their leader and crush them utterly…no matter what stands in our way. I have pulled you all from your posts because it is no longer enough to simply send our troops and spies out to search the city. We will comb every square foot of land from the west coast to Shadowspire ourselves, if that is what it takes.”

“Me and my forces are ready to go at your command,” General Ash said, hand curling to a fist on the table. “We’ll find these rebels and bring them to justice!”

Okay, thank you, general, that’s enough, Kai refrained from rolling his eyes.

“General Chamille. General Skylor recently uncovered a rebel recruiting ground within the Inno Region’s Lotus District. We have not moved on the rebels—I want you to go undercover and infiltrate their ranks. Gain their trust in any way you can, but avoid the senses of their elementals. We don’t yet know the extent of their powers.”

General Chamille was a very beautiful woman and it was obvious that she was aware of it from the way she lounged. Her hair was cut short, curls artfully set, makeup flawless. Even her armor seemed to be a part of her charade, completely devoid of protection across her bare shoulders and collarbone.

“Understood, Commander,” the woman purred, lifting her swirling cup to her face. “I’m sure I can find a form that would be to their liking.”

“The rebels are chosey about what information they share, even among themselves,” General Shade pointed out, almost annoyed, as he crossed his arms. “We’ve interrogated many of them, but they’re either too tight-lipped or have no clue about any headquarters. I doubt a new recruit would be trustworthy enough for information like that within a month.”

“Astute observation,” Kai said, his flat vocoder portraying his dry humor without a problem. “That is why you and General Tox are to take your troops below the city and scour the lines and sewage ways. And I do mean all of your troops. With hundreds of thousands men at your disposal, you may have some hope of moving faster than General Chamille.”

General Shade scowled and General Chamille chuckled behind her hand. The dark haired man couldn’t flush, his skin always remaining it’s sickly white-grey color of pale, but perhaps he would have of embarrassment in that moment.

“You can expect heavy resistance if you find any rebel hold-outs,” General Skylor said, leaning forward. “And traps. I’ve seen my fair share of rigged tunnels.”

General Shade gritted his teeth. “I’ll prepare my men accordingly.”

“Lord Commander.” Every head turned at the rough voice of General Morro. “What makes you so sure these underground searches are useful? From what I’ve been able to gather since returning to the city, our forces are spread thin as it is, and they haven’t found a clue of a rebel holdout for months. If the rebellion is hidden anywhere else, we’ll have wasted all of our time and effort. The emperor won’t be pleased, then.”

Kai scowled beneath his mask and he hoped that General Morro could see that scowl in his eyes. Kai was unreasonably irritated by the calm press of the man’s lips, eyes piercing across the room in challenge.

“Your concern is noted, general, but questioning my strategy now is the only thing wasting our time. I know that they are down there.”

“And if your strategy fails, we will be the ones to take the blame.”

“You’ve been among the Skulkin for too long,” Kai grit his teeth. “In the Imperial Army, there is a hierarchy of command, if you’d recall. You are working under my orders—I will answer to the emperor should my orders fail. But you will answer to me should you fail. I hope that reassures you.”

General Tox’s eyes flickered nervously towards General Chamille. General Skylor’s lips barely tightened. But General Morro’s eyes narrowed, his chin rising.

“Commander, I’d like to inform you, if you’d forgive my speaking out of turn,” General Bolobo said seriously. “I have been carefully looking into the attacks on the three service camps in my region and it seems that we are indeed searching the rebellion’s new team of elementals. Their costumes resemble that of the rebellion’s old team of ninja that once caused much trouble for our supply lines and eventually pierced the walls of the Veil. We were discussing before you arrived and this new group could spell further trouble for us. No regular Imperial force would stand a chance against them. Underestimating them could be disastrous.”

“I overheard the same rumors from the men in my region,” General Tox added. “That shit’s spreading like wildfire, too—people are getting scared that they’re’ll be another hunt. Making everyone antsy, rebel or not.”

“There won’t be a need for that,” Kai dismissed. “The rebellion would hold their elementals close. I don’t believe they’re hiding within public. General Skylor.”

“Commander?”

“You will help me in personally hunting down these would-be ninja while the others uproot the rebel hideouts. I trust your tracking experience will be useful.”

The woman nodded.

“Sir, I’d like to be involved in this mission!” General Ash declared, his eyes serious and sure. “I think I could be a useful asset and my troops are all well trained in smoking out terrorists.”

“I want to join, too, Commander,” General Tox said. “General Shade can take over my troops—we’d trip over ourselves ordering them all. I can help you.”

Kai weighed the requests. If it was Morro or Shade asking, he’d probably shoot it down on account of not trusting them as far as he could throw them—but Ash and Tox were less risky. Sure, they were both young and naive, but they were passionate and somewhat loyal.

He nodded. “Very well. The two of you will support General Skylor and I in whatever way we request.”

They nodded. General Ash seemed to barely be containing how pleased he was while General Tox just sat back in her chair. The woman was worrying her thumb over the lip of her cup—it was steaming and slowly melting under her grip. She must have been nervous, sweating—her sweat, her blood, even her saliva tended to have quite the acidic properties.

“General Bolobo,” Kai commanded. “Continue your investigation of the labor camps. Report even the smallest pieces of information you come across. Any clue could lead us to our enemies.”

“I will, Commander. Daily updates will be recorded and parsed through before being passed on to you.”

“Good. Now…” Kai briefly drummed his fingers on the table. The generals watched him expectantly. Behind them, the trees of the park swayed in the breeze. “We must address the rebel leader. He has alluded us for far too long. If all else fails, I will be satisfied by his head on my plate.”

“The Sage is a myth,” General Morro scoffed. “As much so as the Green Ninja is. We should focus on tangible threats, not follow the wild goose chases that the rebellion has so obviously set up for us.”

“Myth or not, he inspires the rebels,” Kai reminded them. “Any good general knows that in order to eradicate terrorism, we must also destroy the images that inspire them. I’m assigning this task to you, General Morro. Remove the Sage of the Bamboo Forest if he is a mere man—destroy him if he is a symbol. Use whatever resources you need. Your experience and past…affiliations make you uniquely qualified for this mission.”

General Morro’s eyes finally twitched, a hint of anger deep within them. “I would say the same thing about your qualifications, Commander.”

His fist tightened on the table. General Skylor eyed his hand. They glared at each other. Morro’s dark hair, straight as bone and long to his shoulders, framed his unyielding eyes.

The generals shifted uncomfortably.

“Fine. I will find the Sage,” General Morro stated after a moment.

“Oh, are you two done already?” Chamille asked sweetly, sipping on her coffee. “That was quick.”

Both turned their glares on her. She, of everyone in the room, was not cowed. Of course not. She alone, apart from Kai himself, had ear with the Emperor.

She did not fear Kai, for she was the Emperor’s eyes and ears of his generals, present to watch his every move as much as she was to follow his orders. And she did not fear Morro, despite his power being so vast that he could kill them all in an instant—Kai included—as the Emperor would see to him personally should he step out of line because Kai would not be able to on his behalf.

If Kai were her, he would not fear them, either.

General Ash glared at her and General Bolobo gave her a disapproving look. The ageless woman did not care—she threw back the rest of her coffee.

“Lord Commander,” General Skylor gracefully spoke, unshaken by the disrespect shown. “I’d also like to let the generals know that serpentine were spotted in the city two days ago.”

Kai did not twitch, nor give any other indication that he had not known this before, but the information was very much new. He turned a stinkeye onto her for catching him off guard with such shocking information—she gave him innocent eyes back.

“WHAT?” General Tox sat upright as if she’d been electrocuted. “Snakes in the city?! How?!”

The generals all whipped their heads towards General Morro. General Morro was very good at hiding his emotions, as well, so Kai could not tell if he was truly surprised or not.

“Morro, you have been stationed on the front lines of the Southern War for five years, now, surely you know something of this?” General Bolobo demanded.

“Are you sure your information is reliable?” General Shade leaned across the table towards General Skylor with a frown. “That just seems ridiculous.”

General Morro was frowning, too. “I can’t image the Bone Army would allow any serpents passed their ranks, and I assure you, their ranks are impenetrable. Perhaps it was a costume or another trick.”

“I saw it with my own eyes,” General Skylor confirmed. Her gaze fell to Kai’s. There was no jest in her face. “There are serpentine here. And General Morro and the Shogun would know where the snakes find themselves the most often.”

Kai didn’t have to say it. The generals gathered her meaning.

General Ash steepled his hands. “You mean underground. Are you saying that the rebels have allied themselves with the serpentine and somehow smuggled them into the city?”

“It would explain the rebels’ sudden fondness for the damp and the dirty,” General Chamille added dryly over her cup. “General Bolobo, may I?”

She gestured towards his cup. General Bolobo gave her an annoyed eye, but flicked his wrist. A green vine snaked out from under the table, wrapped around the base of his cup, and stretched it across the table. Chamille placed it inside her empty cup and began sipping once more.

“If they have allied themselves, our duty still stands,” Kai reminded them all. “They are simply like any other rebel. And if they chose to put their faith in the rebels’ failed cause, the snakes will be burned along with them. Do not falter. The serpentine have never been a match for us.”

The generals nodded. General Morro turned his head to gaze out the window, deep thought crossing his expression.

“If we can’t find this so-called ‘base,’ we’ll squeeze their supply lines until their starving start cropping up along the streets.” General Shade nodded toward Kai, evidently getting over his sewer punishment. “My men will find them faster than General Chamille’s charade will, I bet.”

“We’ll see,” General Chamille hummed.

“The ninja won’t threaten the crown, Lord Commander,” General Tox grinned and her grin was just slightly off. As in, just slightly unhinged. “We’ll get to them long before that.”

“Yes, we will. Do not forget that the success of every part of this operation is essential for victory. Don’t hesitate to call upon the empire for additional aid if you find you need it. Mark my words—we will put this rebellion down within the month or not at all.”

-

General Ash gave him one last enthusiastic salute before following the other generals out of the Iron Hall. In Kai’s armor, all of them seemed small, despite their own heavy presences and curved armor plates. None of the other generals had saluted.

General Morro was no exception. He paused at the threshold of the door. The man wore a heavy cloak over his simple metal armor, the cloak widening his presence and providing a dramatic flair, purple decorated with silver lining the seams. The black of it, however, washed the man out and made his deep eye bags and sallow face far more pronounced. All of his time in the Dune Sea seemed to have done nothing for his pale complexation.

“I don’t enjoy being sent on fool’s errands,” the general told Kai. Kai relished the way he was forced to crane his neck up. “I am not one of your lackeys that will be satisfied by being thrown at your chores. I’d suggest you do not fail in your part, Shogun. I won't defend you if you do and the emperor reconsiders your position. I believe it should belong to someone with a more…comprehensive idea of the rebellion’s potential threat. Someone who would not be blinded by sentiments.”

“Do you really think it appropriate to discuss old sentiments with me? Would you like to be reminded why I was chosen over you while you were banished to serve at the furthest reaches of the Realm? You are here to follow my orders, not question my authority.”

General Morro’s glare remained frustratingly even. “I was the one who chose this life. If any should have held the emperor’s suspicions, it should have been you. I will be watching you, Commander. Do not forget that fire still needs to breathe.”

Kai snarled. “Do not threaten me, general. Regardless of the emperor’s preferences, I will have you removed from your position.”

“Careful, commander,” General Morro threw his head aside and sneered toward the hall. “Your words sound awfully close to treason.”

“…Get out of my sight.”

Then, he was gone. The door was shut with a brief breeze that came from nowhere within the air-tight war room.

Kai glared at the door. Fucking Morro. Kai had assigned him to the Sage because he genuinely believed that Morro would be the only general competent enough to get the job done, but the man was such a nuisance.

“You’d think the two of you would get along better eventually,” a voice behind him lilted. “Shared pasts and all. But no—it’s like a dick measuring contest every time you’re both in the room. It’s exhausting.”

Kai turned, unimpressed.

General Skylor had remained in the room at his request. She leaned forward in her chair, elbows on the table as she held the now-cold coffee to her face. Unlike the overwhelming attractiveness of Chamille or the stark makeup of Tox, Skylor held a quiet beauty that was subtle and plain, but beautiful all the same. Her hair was pulled back tightly into a military bun, but ungelled bangs were tucked behind her ears. She pursed her lips and raised her sharp eyebrows up at him.

“He’s an asshole,” Kai said, reaching up to hook a finger under his mask. “Can’t get over himself or something that happened half a decade ago.”

His mask unlatched and he pulled it free, setting it on the table. He took his heavy helm off, next, frowning as he pat at his ruined helmet hair.

Skylor smiled over her cup. “Aw, I love it when you turn off the flowery talk for me. It makes me feel all tingly.”

Kai scoffed at her teasing. While most of the other generals had never even seen his face, it felt embarrassing to keep up the charade of the serious, intimidating Shogun while it was just him and Skylor. After all, she’d seen much more intimate parts of him than his face.

He longed to sit down, to rest, his back screaming at him after standing on his feet for so long, but his armor wouldn’t do well with the small chairs. Instead, he leaned against the table, closing his eyes to breathe and keep a grimace from his face.

“What’s wrong?” Skylor’s cup was set down, her concern sudden. “Are you okay? Sho?”

“I’m fine,” he gritted. He just wanted to sit down, by the First Master, let him rest. “You said you spotted serpentine in the city. There’s no way that isn’t bad news. How did you find them?”

“I was following up on a lead for my usual orders—I’m guessing the rebel that runs the recruitment cover is an idiot. I saw him passing off information with a constrictai serpent. I didn’t see where it went after the conversation. Hey, seriously—do you need to take a break from the armor?”

“I said I’m fine.” Kai opened his eyes, his expression weak and probably unconvincing. “A lead? Are you getting closer to finding the golden weapons?”

“I…I’m not sure. Your orders pulled me from the investigation.”

“Right.” Kai grimaced. He exhaled out his nose. “Who’s the rebel?”

“Darreth Yoon. I’ve ordered some of my men to tail him at a distance. I’ll have them pull back for Chamille’s little act. But where are we going to start with the ninja? They’ve managed to allude us for years, already. I’ve encountered some rumor of them in my investigations, but…Sho?”

Kai didn’t respond. His teeth were too firmly glued together in an attempt to ignore the aching rip and tear just beneath his shoulders. He pressed his gloved hand against his face, breathing in huffs through his nose.

“Hey,” Skylor stood up, cup forgotten, and quickly rounded the table to put her hands on his arm. “What the hell’s going on? Are you hurt? Just—Hey, come on, sit down.”

He sharply shook his head. Can’t, there’s too much to do. Just want to go home.

“You’re so stubborn,” Skylor grunted. “Do you want to go to my apartment?”

Kai glanced over at her with a snort. He’d only ever been to her apartment for one reason and he was not in the mood, being in excruciating pain as he was.

“Not for that, you idiot,” she rolled her eyes. “So that you can rest without all of…”

She gestured to all of him.

The wave of pain began to pass. His arms straightened on the table, then he was able to push himself upright. Skylor quickly held under his arm, her arm snaking around his waist—he pulled away slightly before she could put pressure on his back. She froze.

“What happened?” She asked, looking up at him.

“Long story,” Kai grumbled, his jaw aching as he released it. “I got punished. Forty-one lashes.”

Understanding dawned. Of course Skylor wouldn’t need any further explanation. She’d been punished herself plenty of times before—even more often than Kai had. Usually, he was the one concerned over her wounds. It was strange for their song and dance to be reversed.

But failure always produced the same result in the empire, no matter who the failure was.

“Shit,” she sighed. “You shouldn’t be working. It’ll take longer to recover.”

“Lloyd’s coronation is in less than a month. Kurogane was murdered in his bed, the rebellion’s somehow found the resources to disrupt five labor camps, and now snakes have infiltrated the city for the first time…ever. Now is not the time for a break.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about Morro, then—you’re going to kill yourself before he can get to you.”

Kai glowered at her. Her grip tightened, not intimidated, a match for his stubbornness.

“Spare me,” he bemoaned. “I’m headed back to Shadowspire after this. General Bolobo still has that captured rebel from Camp Tetsu to interrogate. Hopefully he’ll be able to get us a lead on the elementals. Otherwise we’ll have to start from the ground up.”

“Do you want me to spread the word to the districts?” Skylor suggested, still holding up his side. “We can put pressure on them through the media, try to flush them out with the help of the city and the MPs. Unless you were planning on being quieter about it?”

Kai shook his head. “No, Tox was right—the empire has made sure the public is terrified of rogue elementals. There'll be a panic if we announce that there are more out there. No…but ensure the MPs are well aware and searching for any sign. I’m sorry to pull you from your job. I’ll make sure the Emperor knows that it was because of my orders.”

“It’s okay,” she sighed. “I’ve been searching for those weapons for seven years. They can wait another month.”

They smiled at each other wearily. At least, if nothing else, Kai had Skylor by his side. They had all but grown up together, though he’d only met her after they’d both become legal adults. It was nice to have someone who could understand him in a way that people like Lloyd and Captain Hutchins never could. He sometimes wondered what sort of life it was, though, sentenced to a failed mission the same as General Morro, and punished over and over for her doomed investigation.

In another life, she would have been family, the same as Lloyd was to him. But there would always be the secrets he kept from her, and the space between them, the distance kept by Garmadon’s paranoia of betrayal. If the emperor ever did tire of her, the Shogun would be expected to execute her, the same as any failed general. Kai didn’t enjoy thinking about it—because he truly wasn’t sure what he would do if that day were to come.

Kai would have to be satisfied with the small moments they got while fighting the empire’s battles together, in the place of whatever could have been had they been two different people, like they sometimes pretended to be.

Kai put his helm back on, sliding his mask up into place. Skylor, as the other generals had, also grabbed her own. Every general had a different strategy to cover their face. Morro had a simple, deep hood that his face disappeared into the darkness of. Shade used his ability, pulled shadows over his face to completely erase his features into a black void. Tox wore a lazy face mask that only covered her mouth and nose. Skylor, for herself, had a helmet with a visor over her face that matched the silver and deep orange stripes along her armor—resembling a sleek, modernized motorcycle helmet.

It tucked over her bun and made her as expressionless and unreadable, intimidating, as the empire’s generals had an expectation to be.

The politicians in their robes gave the two a wide berth upon their exit.

Someone stopped them, coming in on their way out. Bodyguards in the form of troopers trailed after the man, and two assistants struggled to keep up with his long strides. It was Lieutenant Governor Clouse—now Acting Governor Clouse, filling in for his dead boss.

His eyes had lit up at the sight of Kai through the doors. Kai’s eyes flickered toward Skylor’s reflective visor and the tilt of her head told him she was returning his raised brow.

“Shogun! Excellent,” the man greeted, giving Kai a brief bow. Kai bowed his head in acknowledgement. “I was going to send you a message, how fortunate it is that you’re here.”

Yes, very fortunate, Kai thought, annoyed. “What is it, Lieutenant Governor?”

Kai was dimly amused by the twitch of irritation at the man’s original title.

“I’d like to know if there are any updates on the situation with the seat of the Capital Region. It has remained empty and I’ve no complaints about the duties I have taken on…but the region is unrestful without a successor to fill it. We had agreed that Governor Raiden would be moved up and Lady Lim would take up his position over Lianhua Region…will the Emperor be allowing that change to take place at any point?”

“The emperor decided that the seat would remain vacant at the end of the Assembly, as you well know.” There was warning in Kai’s harshness. “Do you dare question his choice?”

“I do not doubt the emperor’s wisdom,” the man bowed his head. “I would simply ask that I be allowed to know his strategy, if it is not too bold a request.”

“It is bold,” Kai told him. “And unwelcome. The situation will change when the emperor so pleases. Do not bother me with your questions again.”

He walked passed the man. The troopers scrambled to part for him and Kai did not slow to give them time. Skylor lengthened her strides to catch up to him.

After they passed through the glass doors, the sounds of the city returned. She took their moment of privacy to mutter, “The emperor didn’t approve a new governor? What was the point of the Assembly?”

Kai admitted, “He didn’t share anything with me, this time. I think one of the other governors vying for the seat convinced him to put it off until they could prove themselves. I assume Governor Hikaru—he’s always had his eye on Capital and he’s good at buttering up His Majesty.”

“Damnit. No wonder Clouse was worried. With everything else going on, leaving the governor’s seat empty is just about the worst plan the emperor could have agreed to.”

“Tell me about it,” Kai murmured. “If that hadn’t already happened before I pissed him off, I’d assume he was causing problems for us on purpose. Again.”

“He does think it’s funny to do that,” Skylor agreed dryly.

Kai huffed, the sound not translating through his vocoder. Walking next to him, Skylor looked very small and slim, almost non-threatening, despite the daggers circling her thigh, and her status as an elemental herself.

Dreadmaw was nowhere to be seen, but Kai could sense her nearby and sent a tug through their bond to get her attention. He squinted in the brightness of the spring day.

Sirens wailed, echoing down the street. They had, at first, simply faded with the usual ambiance of the expensive districts of Ninjago City, but when the firetrucks roared down the street, they could no longer be ignored. People backed away from the road and hovercars were automatically pulled over by their AI systems to make way. The firetrucks, traditional motor vehicles with wheels, shot passed them, singing their ear-piercing song, colored bright red.

One passed, then two, then three, then six. Kai and Skylor both craned their necks to watch them go by. Six firetrucks seemed excessive for a manageable fire.

Kai and Skylor looked at each other, and though he couldn’t see it, he had a feeling she was frowning the same way he was.

The heavy beating of wings threw robes and flags around as a shadow shielded them from the sun. Dreadmaw roared, snapping her jaw as she made the courtyard shudder beneath her landing.

Skylor quickly reached under his mask and trailed her soft fingers along the underside of his jaw. He had grown used to the feeling of a small portion of his power being tugged by hers. With the touch, her qi presence suddenly exploded in strength. Where one would hardly be able to sense her as an elemental master before, it was abruptly very clear that one stood beside Kai.

They didn’t need to share their thoughts to know that they were certainly going to check out the emergency the firetrucks were headed to.

They both leaped onto Dreadmaw, Skylor’s new heat resistance allowing her to ride the beast without being burned the way that a normal person would. She grabbed onto the metal skirt of armor at Kai’s waist.

Kai sent Dreadmaw the image of the firetrucks. ‘Follow them!’

Dreadmaw sensed his urgency and immediately leapt into the sky with none of the care that their last flight had held. She shot off after the emergency vehicles, lithe body dodging between buildings. Kai held on tightly and Skylor clung to him.

A few blocks of speed-flying, and it became very clear what the trucks were headed to—a massive plume of smoke, rolling and expanding, could be seen over the horizon of the cityscape. It belched black into the cloudless sky.

Dreadmaw rose above the rooftops and pressed toward it.

Even through Kai’s mask, the scent of the smoke became heavier and heavier, and the heat from the building could be felt passed the heat of Dreadmaw’s scales. There were already three firetrucks surrounding the building, which seemed to be some sort of apartment complex. Ambulances were already there, people covered in soot and ash stumbling out with the help of overwhelmed firefighters.

Many more of the firefighters stood below the building, and Kai could infer that the building had become too hot or otherwise too dangerous for them to go inside. There was sobbing and shouts below the continued wail of the emergency alarms. People looked up and pointed at the arrival of the dragon, shielding their eyes of the sun to squint upwards.

Kai made a sharp gesture and Skylor acknowledged with a tap. Dreadmaw swooped down, barely slowing as they passed near the ground, throwing people off balance. Skylor leaped off and the weight at Kai’s back lessened. She landed atop a firetruck.

“Tell your men to halt all movements…!” Skylor began to order below.

Dreadmaw rose back up, hovering over the crowd of survivors and service workers, then did her best to steady her back, bowing her head down to give Kai the best access she could.

Midway up the apartment building, the fire began to be visible within the windows, and the higher up it went, the more intense the fire and the heat were. Windows above the tenth story were blown out. Near the top, there already seemed to be structural damage inside, beams crossing windows, walls fallen out. There were certainly already bodies within.

Kai closed his eyes, inhaling, then exhaling. He reached out a single hand.

With his eyes closed, the world was a deep red, the sun still gracing his eyelids. He ignored the pain in his back, pushing passed it toward the warmth he felt. His senses extended to every part of the raging inferno, from the smallest of sparks to the walls of flame. He could feel it licking up furniture, crawling across wallpaper, seeking out evermore fuel. Through it, he could hear distorted voices, screams, sobs, the cries of a baby. Somewhere in the building, a woman’s clothes had just caught fire.

For a long moment, the world slowed. The fire was warm, engulfing, but not as if suffocating Kai—rather, as if it were a comforting embrace. It felt like the force of nature it was, unforgivable, unblaming, glad to be so unchecked. It felt like peace, to him.

But below, the sirens wailed on, the woman in the building screamed in terror, the cries of the baby grew weak and cracked. There was a tug in his gut as he reached for the command he held over the element.

As if a vacuum had abruptly appeared within each wall of destructive flame, the entire fire was smothered out. The glow behind the lower windows disappeared, the tongues climbing outside the upper windows sucked in on themselves and vanished. The heat of the building rapidly began to cool—the black smoke was cut off, as if a flip had been switched.

Kai’s peace snapped. He took a deep breath. He twisted his palm in a cupping motion, as if to catch a raindrop.

All of the dark smoke that hung within the building and drifted around it suddenly trickled out and up toward the mass of it that was slowly drifting away. It a few moments longer, and strained Kai more, but the dangerous gases within the building were pulled out of it and finally dispersed into the air—leaving behind clear blue sky once more. It was as if there had never been a fume or flame at all.

In the building, no embers would relight and anything hot to the touch would cool unnaturally quickly. It would be completely safe for rescuers and escapees within a minute, thanks to Kai’s influence coating the building.

Kai dropped his hand. The beating of Dreadmaw’s wings returned to him, as did the wailing sirens of the six new firetrucks that had skidded to a stop beyond their compatriots.

People stared up with gaping mouths and wide eyes. Some of the ashen people began to cheer.

Dreadmaw dropped Kai off beyond the firetruck barricade, but none stopped him from walking through. Awed whispers followed him.

“Sir, thank the Master you arrived!” One of the firefighters said. He seemed to be the one ordering his other men—more began to pour from the new trucks, running into the building to evacuate people. “What you did was—That was incredible!”

Kai waved him off, stepping passed him.

Skylor was watching over a pair or paramedics who hovered over a survivor laying on a gurney. The survivor was covered in particularly nasty burns, unlike most, who were superficially burned or simply covered in soot. The survivor was breathing brokenly, chest heaving in a failed attempt to get air into her lungs.

“I know it’s scary, but you’re doing great,” one of the paramedics was saying to the poor woman, who had a splotchy face of tears.

The other was putting a breathing mask over her face. Her hair was dark with soot, sticking her her face, skin sheening—her arm was red and beginning to blister, but the man talking to her was attempting to wrap it up.

“General,” Kai rumbled. Skylor snapped to attention as he gestured her forward.

“Wait, um—” the man looked up, freezing. “I—We have to treat this woman, can I please ask you to step back?”

His voice squeaked at the end. Kai ignored him. He reached out and pressed his gloved hand gently to the woman’s chest. His hand moved up and down with her panicked breathing. Kai grabbed Skylor’s hand and maneuvered it on top of his.

“Don’t push yourself,” Kai told her lowly, his mechanical voice making the paramedics flinch. “Without General Ash’s abilities, it won’t be easy on your qi. But…”

He could feel the smoke in the woman’s lungs, clinging to the viscus walls within and clogging up her trachea. It took effort, but with his concentration, the smoke began to unstick itself. The woman began to cough even more, eyes filling with fresh tears. A thin stream of black smoke began to slip from her lips and nose, pushing passed the breathing mask.

The paramedic quickly removed the mask, allowing the smoke to disperse. The survivor’s expression went slack with awed relief as she heaved in a deep, healthy breath.

The woman began to cry, her hand reaching out to grab onto the belt sash around Kai’s waist. Kai removed his hand and gently pried the woman’s hand from his red obi. He stepped back. Skylor did as well, silent.

The paramedics looked at them as if they’d witnessed the First Spinjitsu Master coming down from the heavens himself—then they quickly lifted the woman and the gurney into the ambulance to treat her burns.

“Were you able to follow along?” Kai asked Skylor.

She nodded. “I’ve got it.”

They split off and began to work their way through the worst-off of the survivors. The ones clutching at their chests, their throats, the ones with tears of desperation in their eyes, the ones coughing up black dust.

The first pair that Kai crouched before was a man and a woman, arms slung over each other, breathing into similar oxygen masks that a paramedic was coaching them on holding. After witnessing what had happened before, the paramedic took a step back without a fight. The couple looked up at Kai with wet eyes, ringed with soot.

The man’s arm tightened around the woman. “Wha…Wha…?”

Kai placed a hand on each of their shoulders, feeling them stiffen beneath his hands even as they hacked up dirty air. The technique came easier the second time. Both of their bodies shuddered and the woman lifted the mask when smoke began to leek from their mouths and noses. The man coughed more violently than she. The strings of black rose into the sky and drifted off until their coughing became much less pained and they both gasped.

The woman held her throat in shock, staring up at Kai. “Th-Thank you. Thank you.”

Kai stood and moved on to the next survivor. He had only just been pulled from the building—his skin was reddened and his clothes were singed. Kai pressed a hand to the boy’s ear very briefly, the smoke more dense, and he gagged with the process—but then heaved in a deep, clean breath. The smoke drifted above him. He wasn’t able to get any words out before Kai moved on once more. And again and again and again.

Kai quickly began to sweat of exertion beneath his armor, each person taking longer for him to clean of the smoke, but he did not stop.

A young firefighter ran out with a bundle in his arms, and his determination brought him sprinting to Kai’s side. Kai knew of the baby before it reached him—he was getting tired and spent a longer time ensuring he wouldn’t hurt the babe while he carefully pulled the fire’s heat and gas from the small lungs. The baby choked and coughed wetly, the firefighter wiping it’s face clean of soot with the blanket it was swaddled in.

“Good girl,” the firefighter praised, crushing relief on his face. “Thank you, Shogun.”

Kai nodded.

As he passed, people began to reach out only to touch him, fingers trailing across his arm, thigh, or the armor of his back, or his metal and fabric skirt. Some bowed their heads in reverence, despite the customs of the military and upper class not widely known to them.

Awe was not unusual to him. After all, according to the imperial stories, the Shogun was the savior of the empire. He defended and protected the people with all of his glowing heart, an evil god who had turned to good, along with his generals—different from other elemental masters, who were horrible perpetrators of chaos and suffering. It varied whether or not people believed such a story and Kai had never had a hand in spreading it—his own hands, heavy with blood, could never convince anyone of their purity.

But these people…these people seemed to believe it. That he was some benevolent god.

Seeing their faces, their grateful, praising, amazement, like he was some being worthy of dedication and sacrifice, worthy of devout worship…he could only feel hollow inside. Niave and ignorant, the lot of them, but…happy.

His body was beginning to feel weak with effort. Dreadmaw was stretching her neck over the barricade of firetrucks over the crowd, her eye on him, their bond urging him to slow in giving his qi up. He began to feel something cold trickle down his lips—when he parted them, the metallic taste flooded his mouth.

He forced himself to stop. He and Skylor had handled the worst of the smoke inhalation cases, once the survivors of the top floor had finally been evacuated. The rest could be sent to the hospital.

Hundreds of people now milled around him, getting or giving treatment, calls being made, more people arriving or stumbling away.

“Thank you,” a man told him, wiping his tears, as Kai stood up from him. “Thank you. I’m not worthy of your mercy, Shogun. Thank you. Blessings upon you.”

Kai did not nod, respond, or acknowledge the man’s words. In fact, he hadn’t really listened at all, going through the motions mechanically with the last five or so people.

He licked the blood from his upper lip beneath his mask.

Skylor, who could only be so trained in another’s inherit power, had stopped earlier than him, leaning against a truck and trying not to sway in front of so many. He gestured to her. Time to go. She nodded and slipped between the trucks.

As Kai went to join her, exhaustion and pain and discomfort weight him down, but small footsteps padding forward stopped him.

Kai tilted his head shifting his weight around minutely. A small hand had tapped on the metal skirt over his thigh. A charm bracelet tinged against it.

A young girl stood there, very young, about eight years old. Her hair was a brown, cut in a bob, her eyes wide and sea green. She looked up at him—she wore a jean jumper decorated with pink hearts. On the front pocket, it was embroidered with the name Mai Lee. She was not even as tall as his knee.

“This’s for you!” She smiled, adorably shy, and lifted a hand. “Thank you for always protecting us!”

In her hand, there was a small flower, clearly plucked from the shop across the street that had been spared from the fire. The small flower was beautiful—it’s lavender colored petals thin and delicate.

She waited patiently for him, the sparkle in her young eyes unwaveringly confident.

He carefully pinched the stem of the flower. He did not even dare brush her stubby fingers. He did not want the dripping red on his hands to transfer over and stain hers. As it was, the moment that his gloved hands cupped the gentle thing, the blood spread across it, twisting and choking.

The girl skipped away, to her parents, who both hugged her tight and gave Kai grateful, adoring looks. Kai’s mouth would have been dry, if not for the lazy stream of copper staining his teeth. His tongue sat in the puddle of blood.

He walked away, clutching the flower in the safe cage of his palm to his chest.

Skylor waited for him beside Dreadmaw, leaning against the beast’s side, as the dragon had laid on it’s stomach like a patient cat to wait for them. Skylor had been resting it back on Dreadmaw’s girth. She tilted her head down at his arrival

“You okay?” She pointed at his hand—it looked as if he were clutching his abdomen in pain.

He nodded. “Yes, I’m…”

He pulled his hand away. The ash that remained in his palm floated away with the gentle breeze. He stared at it a moment. Some of the browned ash had smudged, straining his fingers. He looked away.

“Sho?”

“It’s nothing. Let’s get going.”

-

The sound of clinking glasses and chewing food, accompanied by the occasional fork against plate screech, were the only noises that echoed in the Dining Hall. For the third day in a row, the head seat was filled, like it hadn’t been for years and years outside of official events. The emperor was like a storm cloud with the intensity of his presence, and sitting, he still towered over the table. Beneath the flickering light of the grand chandelier, the shadow of his fanged crown stretched across them all. The air was charged with…awkwardness.

Kai was glad that he was expected to remain silent unless spoken to as long as the emperor dined with them. Usually, he would have also been expected to stand, but the emperor was currently trying to get back on Lloyd’s good side, so he’d asked Kai to sit and eat with them. The kitchen had made Lloyd’s favorite foods again—unrelated dishes were spread across the dining table, including preferences from his childhood, like a platter of chicken nuggets and a bowl full of fruit snack packs. Kai’s goblet was full of chocolate milk.

He’d already refilled it four times. That didn’t stop him from continuing to use drinking as an excuse to avoid being roped in to the painful conversation between the emperor and his son.

Lloyd sat across from Kai, picking at his food, sitting uncomfortably upright where he may have once slouched on the table. His dull eyes had not moved from his plate since they’d sat down. His fork moved his food lazily around his plate.

“Lloyd, how were your lessons today?” Emperor Garmadon tried, blindly stabbing for his food while eyeing his son. It would have been comical for his hulking figure to be so clumsy if Kai did not know him as well as he did. “Enlightening, I hope.”

“I didn’t attend them,” Lloyd responded emotionlessly. He flicked at his perfectly sliced strawberries.

“Again?” His father frowned. “You must keep your mind sharp, my son. Why have you not—?”

“I don’t feel well. I’m too tired to listen to them go on and on.”

“Ah. Well…what of your flute lessons? I know you enjoy those. Do they tire you, as well?”

“Yes.”

Kai drank from his goblet. Anything would be better than this. Give him another war to fight. He was going to be sick if he had any more chocolate milk.

But, duty called, so when his goblet ran dry, he quickly went to refill it, wishing that he had something a bit stronger than milk to deal with the drama permeating the room in addition to his wounds.

“You’ve hardly touched your food,” the emperor pointed out, eyebrows tilted up.

“I…am not hungry.” Lloyd put down his fork. He looked away from the meal.

“The kitchens prepared this meal especially for you, boy. You should try to eat.”

Lloyd did not. He did not even acknowledge his father’s words. Kai’s heart felt heavy, no doubt in the same way that the emperor’s did, though Kai felt no sympathy for him. He had been the one to fracture his relationship with his son. Kai only felt concern for Lloyd—for the burden he now had to carry, as well as for how the emperor may treat his son if he continued to deny Garmadon the relationship he wanted with Lloyd.

The emperor’s head slowly turned to Kai, his eyes narrowed and cold, unlike they had been a moment before. Kai near choked on his milk, but quickly gulped it down instead. The emperor hadn’t acknowledged Kai for the entire meal and now he was being pinned with those damning eyes.

The emperor subtly tilted his head Lloyd’s way. Kai blinked, then withheld a baleful look. Oh, no. No way was the emperor going to rope Kai into co-parenting the Prince of the Realm. Kai pretended like he didn’t understand, hiding in his chocolate milk again.

The emperor continued to glare at Kai, his glowing gaze getting hotter and hotter. He gestured more aggressively with one of his lower hands, below the table on Kai’s side of it to keep it hidden from Lloyd. All the while, he continued to eat with his primary two hands.

Kai internally glowered. He finished his milk and wiped his chocolate mustache away. He was back in his work casuals, the lighter, but tighter, armor making him no more comfortable than he had been all day. If the emperor were to decide to beat him bloody into the carpeted dining floor, Kai would probably not have a good time.

He sighed. “Lloyd. Please, have something small, at least. You’ll waste away, at this rate.”

Lloyd finally looked up at them, but only long enough to shoot his father a glare. He reached for a roll and nibbled on it. Kai tried to focus on his own food and not the roiling presence beside him exuding unpleasant emotions. He thought then what had likely become his most common mantra in life: These two were going to be the death of him.

Perhaps he was lucky that the awkward tension in the room was there—after all, his body was exhausted enough following his elemental overuse that he would have otherwise taken a nap directly on his salad. He’d blissfully forgotten that the emperor had been sharing meals with Lloyd in an attempt to either intimidate the boy out of disobeying him again, or trying to mend the boy’s new distrust in him—Kai hadn’t decided yet. He really had imagined he’d be afforded a nap when he’d returned to his quarters, but…here he was. The Shogun—Commander of the Plains, Savior of the Empire, Blazebringer…Co-Parent.

First Master take him.

After Lloyd successfully finished a roll, the legs of his chair slid across the ground and he stood. He afforded his father a proper bow before speaking to him. “Father, may I please be dismissed to prepare for bed?”

The emperor studied his son a moment. Lloyd did not waver in his low bow.

“Of course,” the man-demon rumbled. “You may go. Rest well.”

The boy gathered the skirt of his hanfu and promptly stalked from the room, not even affording Kai a backwards glance. Kai tensed in his chair, hand pressed against the table, ready to push himself up and go after Lloyd—but the emperor’s presence stopped him from moving.

The emperor did not continue to eat after Lloyd left. He instead rested his primary elbows on the table, intertwingling his fingers together and staring off into the dining room, a thoughtful line between his brows. The once-ageless wrinkles on his face, for once, seemed to age him the way they were supposed to, weighed down on his forehead by the heavy crown.

It…unnerved Kai to see the emperor seem so genuinely conflicted. It was almost like he regretted what he had done, which did not match with Kai’s view of the confident, self-serving monster that Kai knew he was. Even if such regret only stemmed from him feeling his own loss, not because he’d hurt others. But…Garmadon had never feared breaking his own toys before, no matter how loyal. There would always be more, after all. Then again…Lloyd had never been like the rest of humanity, in the man-demon’s eyes.

Kai felt uneasy at the idea of breaking the silence. Perhaps this conflict would resolve in instant violence. Kai didn’t want to set off that power keg, especially not with kitchen servants so nearby. So he sat quietly and waited. He couldn’t stomach any more food, anyway. He’d never been a fan of chocolate.

“Shogun.” Garmadon’s voice was harder, but no louder than a contemplative sigh. “You understand that my actions were necessary.”

“…Yes, Your Majesty.” As if Kai could respond any other way.

“I find most flavors of suffering quite palatable,” the emperor continued. He did not look Kai’s way—it was almost as if he were talking to himself. “But not in my son. All I do, I only do to ensure he is kept safe, where he can find his own joys, which do not have to align with mine. Is this not obvious?”

“It is obvious, sire.”

“Then why does he not understand?” Emperor Garmadon growled, finally glaring at Kai out of the corner of his eye. “If it is so clear, then he would not be treating me this way. This has gone on far longer than any of his tantrums.”

Kai was very aware that his face was bare for the emperor to study and read, like an open book. He did not grit his jaw. “The prince is still a child, Your Majesty. Understanding comes slower. He’ll come around, given time.”

The emperor signed and the sound was…weary. It was quite the contrast to the self-assured and manipulating being he had been only three nights ago.

Kai supposed that was before the emperor had realized that he had gone too far with Lloyd—and now, the emperor had found out that Lloyd’s love was no so unconditional after all, no matter how kind-hearted he was.

“Leave me.”

Kai stood and bowed shallowly. The emperor remained contemplative, unmoving, as Kai left the room.

The palace was emptier as night swept over the valley. Kai lengthened his strides to catch up to the prince, who was moving rather slowly. The kid was seriously dragging his feet, still clutching the front of his robes and watching the ground listlessly. He saw a pair of guards exchange a glance as the prince moped passed them.

“Hey.” Lloyd’s head jerked up as Kai fell into step with him. “I can bring a plate down to your room later, if you want.”

Lloyd’s eyes drifted back down. “No, that’s okay. I really don’t have an appetite. Not that my father hovering over my shoulder helps. How’s your back?”

“The ladies say it’s pretty nice.”

Lloyd huffed, rolling his eyes to tell Kai that he was unamused. “I don’t want to know that.”

“You asked.” Kai smiled innocently.

“You know that’s not what I—” Lloyd sighed. “Forget it.”

Silence replaced their usual banter. Lloyd did not ask about his duties in the city nor did he seem to notice any of Kai’s concerned glances. His eyes were far off, leading them to his bedchambers by muscle memory, it appeared.

Kai found himself offering up the information just to fill the space.

“General Skylor told me to give you her regards,” he told Lloyd. “She’s doing well.”

“I haven’t seen her in a while,” the prince muttered. “Does she still carry around jeju candies?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t ask. You always said she only had the worst flavor, though.”

Lloyd shrugged. Orange is the worst of any candy flavors! he had once ranted to Kai. The kid had still accepted the treats whenever Skylor walked the palace, saying Candy is candy, Kai.

“She would always end up in the treating room after conference with my father,” Lloyd mumbled. “So I thought she only came by when she was hurt in the line of duty.”

Kai hummed but had nothing to say.

“You would always be called in to listen to her reports. I used to be upset that I was being left out.” Lloyd’s eyes flickered toward him. “Did you stand by and watch?”

Kai’s lips parted, but he did not respond. He looked away from Lloyd, focusing on the hallway ahead of them. Responses cropped up in his mind, but they all dried up in his throat. Lloyd made it sound so simple. And of all the disparaging words that had been shot Kai’s way that day, the prince’s were the only ones that seemed to pierce directly into his heart.

Perhaps the emperor’s farce of Lloyd’s perfect world was not the only one he was upset with. Kai worked his jaw.

“I’m sorry, that was—” Lloyd closed his eyes with a weak grimace. “I know that’s unfair. I know you couldn’t have done anything. I don’t…I shouldn’t blame you. It’s okay. You’ve…You’ve always done the best you could.”

But had he, really? the prince’s previous words implied.

Kai bowed his head. “Kid…”

“I just want to go to bed.”

They stopped in front of his door. The torches flickered quietly, throwing their shadows over Lloyd’s face. He looked older than he had a week ago and he hadn’t even reached his birthday, yet.

A numb feeling washed over Kai. Lloyd was now beginning to see the world with wide open eyes. The new shades of grey were falling over his vision. He saw the monster that his father was, the flaws that filled the world. And in the face of the truth…Lloyd had given up.

“Your Highness…Lloyd—”

Lloyd turned away from the hand Kai had reached out, opening his bedchamber door. Kai’s hand wilted in the air between them.

“Goodnight, Kai,” the prince said.

Kai was left with the crying flames for company. The cold peace that the banners and the quiet corridor afforded him felt empty.

He narrowed his eyes at the door.

Yeah, no way in hell was he letting this happen.

-

“My Lord! Forgive my saying so, but you simply cannot do this! There’s too much to do! The coronation committee is already behind and they cannot move on to other matters without your approval of these decisions! Please reconsider!”

“I’ve told you three times already,” Kai snapped, striding along the hallway, letting the advisor struggle to keep up with him. “Today is the second Tuesday of the month, and the second Tuesday of every month is Dragon Spa Day. You can reschedule everything for me to handle tomorrow.”

“All due respect, milord!” the advisor groused, lifting her skirts as she rushed along. “I have never heard of a ‘Dragon Spa Day’ and I have been working in the palace for ten years! I do not see why something as unimportant as that would take precedence over His Highness’ coronation as well as your other awaiting duties!”

“Well, then it’s official as of now and it is, in fact, incredibly important.” Kai abruptly stopped and the advisor tripped over herself to stop along with him. “Dragons have a tendency to burn down castles when they are not properly pampered, you see. Would you like that to happen?”

The woman sputtered uneasily, eyes flickering beneath her hat, which was sliding down her head. “I—Well, no! But—”

“Then you have my permission to reschedule all of my meetings and deadlines to tomorrow. If there are any military matters, please refer the men to either the captain or to the generals. Thank you for your help, Miss Zhao. You’re dismissed.”

“My Lord!” She gaped. “Please!”

Kai turned his back on her, flicking a hand back casually. “Dismissed!”

He turned the door handle and promptly shoved the door open, leaving the fumbling advisor behind. The door swung around and thudded against the brick wall behind it, bouncing back as Kai tramped into the room.

The guards outside the room curiously peaked in, along with the fuming servant, to see what all the fuss was about.

Kai slapped the leg that lay splayed beneath the sheets. “Rise and shine, green machine! Up and at ‘em!”

He snapped his fingers and red flame burst to life atop every torch, instantly lighting the dark room. It smelled of body odor after the isolated sulking that had gone on for too long. The color of the torches quickly faded from the orange tongues to their usual purple.

Lloyd groaned rolling over and shoving his pillow over his face at the sudden brightness. “What the hell? What time is it?”

“It’s passed nine already, I let you sleep in plenty.” Kai grabbed a handful of sheets and threw them off the boy. Lloyd yelped at the chill, pulling his legs up—the pillow lowered enough for Lloyd to glare at Kai with betrayal. “Come on, up!”

“No!” Lloyd complained. “Ugh!”

Kai ignored him, humming a tune to himself while he wandered into Lloyd’s closet. Despite the prince’s harried state, none of his servants or maids had allowed his bout of depression to sink into his chambers, so every inch of the place was as spotless as ever. The closet was also perfectly in order—Kai dug through the ridiculous amount of silk.

“What are you doing?” Lloyd grumbled from his bed, his voice echoing into the walk-in. “Would you get out of there? Heathen.”

“Oh, quit quoting the chamberlain! Come up with some originals if you’re going to insult me!” Kai shouted back, muffled by the amount of fabrics surrounding him.

Lloyd mumbled something that was probably nastier, but it wasn’t rare that the prince would be in a foul mood following a poor night of sleep. Kai wondered if he’d had nightmares. Kai had—full of everything he touched turning to ash, like the flower in his palm had. He’d grimaced and barred it.

He walked out of the closet with a bundle of clothes thrown over his shoulder. He tossed them onto the bed—Lloyd’s practice garb of sweatpants, a T-shirt, and his green linen haori. Lloyd was sitting up now to glower at him through his bangs and looked unimpressed at the lot thrown over his lap.

He groaned, covering his face. “I’m not in the mood to pick Dreadmaw’s teeth again. Don’t you have things to do? I thought you were busy.”

There was a bitter note—probably thanks to Kai being as occupied as he had been since he’d returned. Kai gracefully ignored the pettiness.

“His Highness is right, my lord!” the advisor said through the door that hung open. “There are plenty of things should the prince still be feeling unwell!”

Kai whipped his head around and shot her an annoyed glare. The guards jerked out of view, straightening in their posts, and she paled. He barked, “I said dismissed, woman! Do not dare bother me again!”

The woman made a weak sound and ducked away. “Understood, my lord!”

Kai rolled his eyes and gestured back with a thumb, as if to say, See what I have to deal with? Lloyd looked less than sympathetic.

“I don’t want to…work—” Lloyd carefully didn’t say ‘train.’ “—Or whatever it is you have planned. You’re making people’s lives harder by not doing your job, you know.”

“Don’t care.” Kai pointed at him. “Keep, fifteen minutes—I’ll drag you there by the ear if I don’t see you. Now get showered and dressed.”

“I’ve never had a shower in my life!” Lloyd bit back, but Kai was already striding back out the door. “We don’t have showers!”

He glanced at the two guards stationed there. They saluted him sharply, their fists thudding over the hearts of their breastplates. Kai nodded at them and passed them by.

Up at the Dragon’s Keep, Dreadmaw was swishing her piles of gold around with wide, excited eyes—Kai had already given her a rundown of the plan through their bond as he had made arrangements earlier this morning. She had been all too excited to jump on them. She’d always had a particular warm spot for Lloyd that Kai could only assume she’d assimilated from Kai’s own care for the boy.

Because of this, the dragon did not even give him an annoyed rumbled when he strapped on the flat, minimalist saddle, crafted of metal and layered with leather, that he’d created for her long ago. It wouldn’t do well on flights all the way across the Realm, and Dreadmaw rarely had to bemoan wearing it, but it had it’s uses.

He stripped himself of his armor and gi after that, quickly re-dressing in the extra clothes he’d brought along with him. He had just finished tying his laces when a knock on the doors came. Honestly, Kai was surprised that Lloyd hadn’t at least lazed his way through his morning routine to put off his arrival—but deep down, the kid was probably craving some normality. Kai knew what it was like to be a child and appreciating when his loved ones had seen through the acts he’d put on in his misery.

He picked up one of the more reflective golden plates in Dreadmaw’s horde—he smoothed down some flyaways. The gel had yet to melt away in the heat, keeping his hair artfully smoothed back.

He haphazardly tossed the plate over his shoulder, intending to let it clatter back into the piles of treasure. Dreadmaw’s body lunged behind him and he heard her jaws tear through the plate, like a dog taking fetch too seriously. Her excitement was giving her far too much energy. Her tail thumped the ground as he opened the grand door by the latch.

Lloyd stood there, his arms crossed and his damp curls sticking to his forehead. He was picking at the sleeve of his haori. But his grumpy look was instantly dropped, along with his jaw as he stared at Kai.

“Whaaaaaat—” Lloyd choked. “—are you wearing?”

“Nike,” Kai grinned, snapping the elastic waist of his bottoms. “They make the best sweatpants. Still soft, after the third wash. You coming in?”

Lloyd kept looking at him like he’d dropped from the sky, even as he stepped inside. “Oh First Master. I thought you only owned hanfu, gi, and kamishimo. You know…robes.”

Lloyd’s eyes clearly caught on the strange saddle sitting on Dreadmaw’s back, straps securing it around her neck, shoulders, and chest. Dreadmaw rumbled in greeting, closing her eyes as she preened toward him.

Lloyd’s eyes went from the saddle, to Kai’s hoodie, to focusing on his civilian shoes.

“What even are those?” He asked, eyes wide.

“High tops.” Kai wiggled his eyebrows.

Kai grinned, motioning for Dreadmaw. The dragon walked over to him, surrounding her with her waves of warmth. She let him reach under her front legs and tug at the straps there, making sure everything was steady, but not too tight.

The prince slowly nodded, looking lost, but there was a bright sparkle of awe returning in his eyes. “…What’s going on here?”

“Well, I was thinking…” Kai patted Dreadmaw’s shoulder. “You were right. When I came back and you said that you’d grown up and you didn’t need to be protected anymore—you were right. You’re going to be an adult soon and it’s a big world out there…we can’t keep you here forever, no matter how safe it is. Hell, you proved that. So I figured…today we’d go on a little chaperoned field trip.”

Kai wasn’t lying about his reasons.

“You don’t mean…” Lloyd’s eyes became saucers.

“Unless you’re not feeling well, of course.” Kai dropped his hand from Dreadmaw and shrugged, hands up—beneath his hoodie, he’d still wrapped them, like a boxer, fingertips revealed. He sighed dramatically. “Then Dreadmaw will have suffered through me strapping her up for nothing, but if you’re not up to it—”

“Hey, I didn’t say that!” Lloyd burst, waving his hands. “But—I…I don’t want you to be punished again. I–I can’t…you’ll get in trouble. And what if next time, my father doesn’t…? I can’t, Kai.”

Kai didn’t know exactly what Lloyd was referring to—whether he was saying he couldn’t go for that reason, or he couldn’t stand to watch what had happened all over again. His heart twisted at the vulnerable look on the prince’s face.

“I know, kiddo, I know. But you don’t need to worry, the emperor won’t know about it, alright? We’ll both be fine. I make plenty of trips that he doesn’t know about.”

Lloyd raised a brow. “You do?”

“Oh, yes,” Kai said, tone dry. “Your father may have a few spies feeding him information, but he doesn’t care to move from his seat very often. People only say that the emperor knows all because he has me.”

Lloyd, for the first time in three days, grinned at Kai and his stupid ego humor. It made Kai grin back, hoping his relief wasn’t bleeding into his smile too embarrassingly.

“You mean it, then?” The prince’s joy was held in check, but eking out in his fisted hands. “I have permission to leave? We’re going to see outside the Veil? Both of us? Right now?”

“More than that,” Kai laughed, pointing to himself with a thumb. “You are looking at the city’s best tour guide! I’ll show you all sights. Real tourist action. Snap some pictures, take some names—the works.”

“Well—What are we waiting for?!”

Just like that, Lloyd’s insistent curiosity burst to life and he rushed right passed Kai to reach up towards Dreadmaw with his grubby seventeen-year-old hands. Kai grabbed him by the back of his haori and dryly reminded him that he was going to give himself second degree burns trying to climb up her. Dreadmaw rumbled with amusement, pressing her head towards them.

With a signal thought from Kai, the dragon lowered herself down and twisted her body slightly for easy access.

Kai grabbed Lloyd under his arms like a toddler and leaped up. Lloyd yelped, then laughed breathlessly as they landed on the saddle. It was probably already warm, but the layers between Dreadmaw and Lloyd would be plenty enough for them to stay out for the day. Oh, shit, Kai thought wearily. I should have made him put on deodorant first. Teenager sweat stinks.

In front of Kai, Lloyd clung onto the horn of the saddle and fit his legs over the sides. The saddle felt uncomfortable and unusual under Kai, but he shifted until he was sure his legs wouldn’t begin to fall asleep.

“Dreadmaw flies around when she’s bored, so no one should give us a second thought,” Kai told Lloyd, grabbing onto the boy’s shoulders from behind. “But just to be safe, keep low while we’re within the Veil—”

“LET’S GO!” Lloyd excitedly patted Dreadmaw’s scales.

Kai’s expression went slack when Dreadmaw took Lloyd’s call as permission rather than wait for Kai’s mental suggestion.

Kai’s legs tightened on the saddle and he clung to Lloyd’s shoulder in a sudden panic without the familiar weight of Dreadmaw’s backspines under his hand. They shot out of the colosseum, climbing almost directly upwards, with Dreadmaw keeping her back to the mountain ridges to keep them hidden. Kai squinted his eyes as the tearing winds hit them, no helm on his head to keep them at bay any longer.

Within seconds, they entered the cloud among the peaks. Lloyd immediately shivered in front of Kai, leaned over the horn of the saddle, and Kai holding on for dear life. The black cloud was impossible to see very far in, but Dreadmaw had an innate sense of direction.

They burst out of the wall of oni power, streams of glittering grey exploding with them before sinking back into the mass.

All of Dreadmaw’s hurry died. For a moment, they were suspended in the air, high above everything. The day was as beautiful as the last, a few fluffy white whisps painting the sky in the distance and the cool spring sun hanging regally above them. Nothing else he'd ever seen could hope to compare to this angle of the city.

Lloyd gasped in the thin air, his face alight with shocked awe as Dreadmaw slowly stretched her wings out, the flap of them quiet as her bowed neck revealed Ninjago to them. His green haori fluttered in the air behind him, as did Kai’s red hood. Kai relaxed his grip a fraction.

Watching Lloyd’s expression, eyes shining with tears of exertion, Kai’s chest swooped—through Lloyd’s amazement, Kai felt like he was seeing it all for the first time again with him. Kai didn’t even think about it or realize it until he was already smiling.

Lloyd’s gaze swept across the city, to the sea behind them, and finally to the beautifully clear sky. He looked right at the sun and it made reflexive tears well up—he shut his eyes and breathed in deep—the warm light spilled over his face. It made his hair look like it was made of shimmering gold thread, weightless in their gentle glide.

They were free of the darkness.

The feelings of elation that were pouring through from his bond with Dreadmaw were so deep and sincere, Kai couldn’t believe that tears were forming in his own eyes. The emotions were strong in the way that they had been years and years ago, back when Kai had first formed the bond with Dreadmaw, when they hadn’t learned a happy medium for what was too much and what was too little.

He patted her side, sending her the mental message to, ‘I’m happy for him, too, but relax with the mental sharing, please. You’re overwhelming me.’

Lloyd startled under Kai’s hands—Dreadmaw turned her neck back to try and look at them, squawking in surprise. Her eyes rolled in her skull, straining to see what she couldn’t—her flying got a little less even.

“Whoa!” Kai rubbed the scales of her back behind him. “You’re alright, girl, calm down. What’s wrong?”

He began to scan the skies, abruptly concerned a feral dragon had made them nervous—but the sky was empty. And—

‘What is this?’ A voice asked. Images assaulted Kai’s brain through the bond, and the voice—Dreadmaw didn’t have a voice, even in their shared thoughts. The images weren’t from the perspective of a strong, primal dragon.

‘Lloyd?’

‘Holy shit, what’s happening? Why am I seeing things? Kai—’

“Kai, your voice is in my head!” The prince said loudly, expression suddenly slack with panic.

“I know, hey, relax!” Kai could now sense Lloyd’s building panic, but it was coming from his bond with Dreadmaw—the dragon was also sensing the panic building in her large chest and her flapping wings were growing more erratic. “Calm down! You’re scaring her, you’ve got to keep your head! Breathe—there you go…”

Kai’s own heartbeat had begun to hammer wildly a moment, in tandem with Lloyd’s, as the boy’s panic had begun to feel like it was Kai’s own emotions. But Lloyd took deep breaths, the air getting less and less thing as they glided nearer and nearer to the ground. Dreadmaw’s flying balanced out again.

Her questioning pressed into Kai’s mind, just as confused as he was, while Lloyd’s amazement and curiosity was felt through them both. This isn’t right, Kai thought to himself. This shouldn’t be happening.

“I know, right?!” Lloyd shouted. Kai winced. “Weird!”

‘Land quickly,’ Kai commanded Dreadmaw. He could sense the order reverberate through Lloyd’s mind—oh, it was a far different experience to be connected to the emotions of a human being compared to a dragon.

Dreadmaw’s wings beat forcefully as she lowered slowly, setting her hindlegs down first before dropping to all fours. Her demands of confusion still nudged at Kai’s mind, searching him for an explanation, as if he wasn’t clearly taken off guard as well. ‘Be patient a moment,’ Kai told her.

“I’m trying,” Lloyd said, jolting as they landed.

“Not you,” Kai replied, exasperated.

“But you—thought it to me!”

“No, I did not,” Kai rolled his eyes. “…You’re somehow tapping into my bond with her. Arms up, we’re getting off.”

Lloyd obeyed and Kai scooped him up like a kitten once again. Kai braced his own landing to give Lloyd a gentler one. It shuddered up his legs and made his back spasm, but he just winced at Lloyd’s back, letting the kid go.

They’d landed on the grassy plains just outside of Shadowspire that crawled partway up the mountainous sides of the Veil. In early spring, the area should have been littered with colorful wildflowers, but instead the grass was half dead and drooped more the closer it got to the shielded valley. The grassy hill sloped down, the streets of the Capitol Region across the plain.

The moment they were off of Dreadmaw, the bond’s strength lessened, putting distance between Kai’s mind and Lloyd’s—thank the First Master for that. Kai loved and trusted Lloyd but there was no world that he’d ever want the prince to see into his head.

“How did that happen?!” Lloyd asked, all of his earlier moping completely forgotten. He actually looked like he was enjoying himself—Kai could not say the same. “That was amazing! I could feel what she was feeling and what you were feeling! Whoa…I can still sense her.”

Kai could tell—through his bond with the dragon, he could still feel a glimpse of Lloyd’s elation.

“Huh.” Kai looked between Lloyd and the bewildered red-scaled dragon. “Well…didn’t expect that. I think you somehow formed a bond with her, too. One of your own.”

“Eh? Wha—How?!” Lloyd leaned back nervously when Dreadmaw sniffed at him, her large head getting too close. “I’m not the Master of Fire—and she’s a fire dragon. I thought you had to be the master of the same element to trade bonds with dragons.”

“Yeah, I…thought so too,” Kai muttered. He grimaced, pushing away Dreadmaw’s bond in his mind to try and clear his thoughts. She was being rather loud about being confused, but her delight was growing. “I suppose…it could be some kind of ability you inherited from your father.”

Which would be strange, considering oni and dragon are natural enemies. Why would Garmadon have any powers related to communicating with them?

Lloyd glanced at Kai and Kai could sense that Lloyd had heard his thoughts. Lloyd’s eyes looked so different outside the darkness of the Veil. Oh, that was uncomfortable. Kai would like this to stop happening.

Dreadmaw sensed his intent to dismiss her before he even said anything. Already knowing his discomfort, she didn’t fight him on leaving, but she did send a final fond snort over Lloyd’s hair, ruffling the kid’s curls. Then, she wandered further from them before leaping from the ground, wings unfurling with a gust of wind. The land shuddered—both of them had already been braced for it.

She circled the air a few times, letting out various dragon hisses and barks before flying higher and higher. The further she went, the more the bond stretched, until Lloyd’s thoughts and emotions were firmly separated from Kai’s. Then, Dreadmaw disappeared into the clouds, Kai’s bond with her tucked away in his mind. Kai breathed a sigh of relief—he’d been worried for a moment that some kind of strange bond would remain between him and Lloyd and Kai had no idea what he would have done then.

“Kai?”

Kai exhaled, looking down to give the prince a weary smile. He ruffled his hair, messing it up as Dreadmaw had done. “Aren’t you just full of surprises, Your Highness. And here I thought we were just your regular old tourists today.”

“Why now?” Lloyd ignored Kai’s action and frowned. “I met Dreadmaw years ago. Why would a bond only manifest now?”

Kai opened his mouth to respond, but something about Lloyd’s gaze on his was strangely mesmerizing. They seemed…deeper, wiser, than before. Perhaps as a result of the dragon bond, but…they just looked so different under the sun.

Green.

Lloyd’s eyes were green.

Lloyd had red eyes.

“I don’t, uh…” Kai’s mouth had dried, left open as it was. He stared at the prince. “Damn.”

“What?” the kid shifted nervously. “What is it?”

Kai pursed his lips. He narrowed his eyes. Made a decision. “…I’ll tell you later.”

Lloyd groaned, but begrudgingly accepted Kai’s words. Kai would shock the prince with this strange development when Lloyd was in front of a mirror or somewhere else that would allow him to see for himself. If Kai was in the same position, he’d likely be happier to get a look on his own. The green didn’t seem to be harmful…if Kai were to guess, it was a result of Lloyd’s unlikely ability to communicate with Dreadmaw. Would he be able to communicate with any element of dragon? Perhaps they should test this.

Though coming across a friendly dragon wasn’t exactly common. Even other dragons under Imperial service, most notably kept to the labor camps, were usually not very happy with the empire. Dreadmaw was a special case—Kai had been young and hadn’t been able to close his heart to it when she had been newly captured and thrashing in chains, ready to be shipped off to fuel a fire for the rest of her life. Red dragons made it…difficult to ignore their suffering, with the way they could pour their desperation and pain directly into Kai’s head.

What was worse was the hope that they felt when they sensed his presence. Elemental masters and dragons held the same kind of qi energy—a dragon that sensed Kai would see him as another dragon, along with any other elemental. To feel their confusion when he didn’t help them was like a thorn in his chest—they did not even feel betrayed, they simply did not understand, like a child who fell and was not hugged by their parents.

All that to say that in order to trial Lloyd’s ability, Kai would have to take him to a labor camp at the very least…and Kai was not going to do that. There were things Lloyd could go on not knowing for a little while longer.

“Here.” Kai reached into his pocket and handed something to Lloyd. “Mask up and let’s get going.”

Lloyd held up the black medical mask, then quickly hooked it over his ears, buzzing with anticipation. Where Lloyd had once had very little qi, the leftover bond was giving him the ghost of a larger presence than he normally had. It was like standing next to a different person. Kai ignored the slight discomfort it gave him. He followed suit with a mask of his own. Many in the denser areas of the city wore them, a longstanding leftover habit of the plagues.

They turned to the city and Lloyd grabbed onto the sleeve of his hoodie. Kai raised an eyebrow.

“…Thank you,” the prince said breathlessly. “You said it would be fine, but…I know this is a big risk.”

Kai smiled. Lloyd’s green eyes smiled back, blissfully unaware of the fact that there was nothing Kai wouldn’t put on the line for him. Nothing he wouldn’t risk. Nothing he wouldn’t conquer.

This little field trip wasn’t anything. If it meant keeping Lloyd warm, Kai would gladly strike the match and watch the world burn.

Chapter Text

Below the territory of the Capital Region and bordering Inno, the southwest corner of Ninjago City was controlled by the rich region of Geum. Like the Capital Region, the Geum Region went along the western coast and was home to more powerful figures and companies that were well endowed with money. That money was visible in their cityscapes, transportation systems, and public accommodations.

Geum Region’s main district, Opal, was home to the most famous marketplace in all of Ninjago. It was an annual affair that began early in the spring and did not die down until very late in the fall, when the weather at last got too cold. It was one of the most notorious traditions in all of Ninjago and inspired many travelers attempting to sell their wares. As such, it was under tight imperial control and supervision at all times, but the tax revenue that the empire gained from it was far too valuable for the empire to have any reason to shut it down. It was safe, it was beautiful, and it was full of Ninjagoan culture.

The Opal District spared no expense on the beautiful parkways that housed Goldgrain Market. Gracefully hanging willows provided shade over the unending, wide pathway that cut through shops draped with tapestries, tent shades set up over cheap fold-out tables, expensive jewelry protected by hired ruffians, and endless amount of heavenly smells coming from foods stalls. There were delicacies, sweets, and meals from every corner of Ninjago, from the northern village towns and their rice balls to the central city’s craze of fake dragon meats. Colors covered tents and tarps, fruits and vegetables spilling over the front of stands, trinkets hanging along strings and swaying in the breeze, sellers wandering the crowds and offering items. Sunlight spilled over the pathway, warming the brisk spring day through the clear sky above.

Above all, the noise of the crowd was overwhelming and all-consuming. Families chatted, traders haggled, sellers shouted enthusiastically. A mother pushed a stroller through the crowd, her husband with another child sitting on his shoulders, a hat too big on the child’s head. A man in a sharp suit was followed by a scurrying woman in a pencil skirt, a holoscreen being tapped on in front of her. A man in a colorful poncho carried a guitar bag, shifting through the crowd. Some people wore puffy coats and hanbok, both, traditional and modern mixed as it often was in Ninjago City’s upper regions. Street performers played from various points in the crowd, a guitar strumming a slow ballad while somewhere else, a speaker played some mixtapes.

Kai had at first worried Lloyd would be as overwhelmed as Kai had been his first visit. After all, the boy had never seen a crowd so large and never-ending in his life, even with his late-night excursion. On the contrary—Lloyd could barely keep his hands to himself, shoving through people and reaching toward every stand they passed. Kai was considering putting one of those kid-leashes on the teenager, already having near lost him three times. Luckily, Dreadmaw’s leftover qi that had been left in Lloyd was allowing Kai to sense his presence.

Lloyd’s green eyes all but glowed with wonder as he leaned into the personal spaces of traders and customers alike. They spoke loudly over the commotion of the crowd.

“What’s this?”

“Candied strawberries. They’re better frozen.”

“Oh, what’s this?”

“Kebabs. Crab…? Yeah, crab and shrimp. Not a bad combination.”

“I love shrimp. I’ll take two!—Ohhh, what’s this?”

“You know what an egg roll is.”

“Why is it the size of my head?”

“I don’t know, why are you shaming size preferences? People like what they like.”

“…You’re a bad person.”

“Aw, that means a lot coming from you. Eat your kebabs. Hey, look, gelato.”

“I don’t know what that is, either.”

“…Oh, Master. Two bowls, please! Amarena, yeah. Kid, would you stop double-fisting those things already? You can’t eat all that.”

“…You want this one?”

Kai huffed, but traded the bowl of gelato for the long stick of alternating roasted crab and steamed shrimp. It did smell absolutely divine, especially with the breeze being chillier under the shade of the tent they stood under. But Lloyd was not leaving this place without trying some gelato.

Kai juggled the shopping bags that lined his arms, shifting them until he could drop their coinbag back into his pocket, then finally took a bite of the crab. It melted in his mouth—it was real crab, savory and fresh. Someone had outdone themselves, but honestly, he’d already forgotten where they’d gotten it from. The prince had grabbed so much random shit for Kai to fumble to pay for, Kai wouldn’t be able to tell the kebab place from the homemade soap place.

“Maybe we should take a break!” Kai shouted over the crowd, but he could already see Lloyd eyeing the next place—some sort of fresh honey stall.

Lloyd predictably pouted at him, but Kai raised his tired arms and made a dramatic grimace at the shrug of his shoulders. Lloyd rolled his eyes at Kai’s guilt-tripping. “But I want to see them all! Look, they’ve got painted bamboo hats over there!”

The prince gestured insistently across the river of people. Kai sighed. “Alright, fine! Then we’re sitting down to eat this stuff!”

He grinned so brightly and Kai couldn’t regret that. He hadn’t seen Lloyd so irrevocably joyful since…well, it had probably been years.

Kai struggled to keep up with Lloyd as the boy rushing through the throng. He excused himself and bumped into people, especially with his wide girth of bags. He cursed to himself—he was far too used to people parting for him. Now, he was nobody, forced to scramble on the level of the rest of the mortals. He’d forgotten what this was like.

Some people did glance over and stare or move out of the way if they happened to glimpse the scars that dug through his eyebrows and disappeared beneath his mask, but the mask covered most of it, so they were left wondering. He ignored them, gritting his teeth, and focusing on Lloyd’s retreating back. Doing this for him, Kai reminded himself. He’s enjoying himself. It’s the least I can do after what he went through.

“That one!” Lloyd pointed to one of the bamboo hats hanging from the top of the stall. It was a gorgeously hand-decorated scene of a bamboo forest, quite fitting for the material it was made from. Pandaphants were painted with gentle strokes, a glistening river flowing across the scene. It was expertly made.

The man nodded with a smile below his pencil mustache. “Of course, of course, young master! Here you are! Pandapants are such wise creatures, and they say the bamboo forests are the oldest in the world! You must see more than most.”

The man handed it down. He’d probably recognized Lloyd was someone with money because of the haori. Though it was more casual than most of his closet, it was still finely made, and Lloyd’s clothes were pristinely clean. Or maybe the man was just a real smooze who was good at flattery. A lot of the sellers were.

“Wow,” Lloyd repeated with awe as he put it over his golden curls. The hat matched the green of his haori and the white of his T-shirt. His eyes sparkled. “Kai, you should get one too! Oh, what about that one?”

He gestured toward one hanging on the wall behind the long-faced seller. The man turned, delighted to be making twice the profit. “That is a good choice!”

The man brought the hat around. On closer inspection, it was reinforced with dried palm leaves—they would last years, but the beauty of them would eventually begin to splinter. The second bamboo hat was covered in painted layers of tiger lily flowers, more red than their traditional orange, their angles exemplified and the strikes of ink thick over the paint in a rendition of ancient styles.

“Tiger lilies are said to bring good luck and prosperity!” The man said, handing the hat into Lloyd’s waiting hands. “In the southern regions, they represent success and honor. A good fit for your friend, here, I’m sure!”

The man’s unoccupied hand had subtly reached out with an open palm towards Kai while he was speaking so excitedly to Lloyd. Kai scoffed softly, but set down a few bags to dig out his coinpurse. He dropped a handful of gold coins into the man’s hand. The man’s mouth dropped open when he glanced over.

“Keep the change,” Kai dismissed.

The man stared at him with a look that said his greed had been satiated for the first time in his life.

“Thank you!” Lloyd sung as Kai grabbed up the bags he’d set aside, then took up his gelato and licked the top. His nose got cold.

As Kai elbowed their way back through the crowd, Lloyd took the second hat and hovered it over his head. Kai eyed him with warning and Lloyd very carefully lowered it over Kai’s done hair. It did it’s job very well and the sun disappeared from Kai’s eyes.

“If only he’d had fire lilies,” Lloyd sighed dramatically, digging his spoon into his gelato. “It would have been the perfect fit. I wonder if he does commissions.”

“I doubt he was the artist,” Kai told him, lifting his right arm higher to avoid taking out a child with Lloyd’s giftbags. “Artists usually aren’t so fawning when they’re sharing their work. They are well-made, though.”

“Oh, I should have gotten one for—”

Lloyd cut himself off. They briefly separated to avoid a couple walking arm-in-arm. Kai glowered at them, but they didn’t seem to notice, masked and now with the low brim he wore.

Lloyd’s expression was downcast when he stuck back to Kai’s side. He shoved a spoonful of gelato in his mouth and shook his head.

“Gotten one for who?” Kai prompted.

Lloyd shrugged. “…No one, I guess. Who would I get one for?”

A week ago, he probably would have begged to get one for his father. The man had been promoting some imperial-inspired ones with the symbol of the phoenix and the colors of the emperor. Perhaps Brad, but he was gone.

“What about Kurogane’s daughter?” Kai asked. “She’s your friend, isn’t she? I’m sure she’d like a gift.” That brat would love to be rained with affection from anyone royal.

“No.” Lloyd’s face pinched. “We’re not friends.”

Kai quirked an eyebrow. Last he’d heard, Lloyd had been vomiting his adoration for her all over Kai, before his last execution duty. Now, Lloyd looked upset, but…that scowl spoke of anger.

“C’mon,” he bumped Lloyd’s shoulder and tilted his head toward an escape between two crowded tents.

They slipped through the alleyway of tarps, stepping off the stone roadway and onto the grasses of the park. They were fresh and green, the trees above them ancient and heavy, leaves full. They swayed in the light breeze, throwing the sunlight between their branches. The noise of the crowd was still present, but it faded into background noise. Others looking for solace from the chaos had wandered into the grasses of the park, sitting and eating, wandering away from the food trucks that sat between the lines of stalls, some picnicking on blankets, others spreading out their prizes from the market. A dog on a leash barked at them briefly before it was hushed by the owner. A group of young adults, or maybe older teenagers, were kicking around a ball and being generally rowdy with one another.

Both Kai and Lloyd took a deep, body-odor free breath. Kai was the one to cave to the ground first, finding a spot near a tree and sitting into an immediate cross-legged seat. He hooked a finger over his mask to pull it down under his chin again, like Lloyd’s was. The bags set down on either side of him. His back breathed a similar sigh of relief—after his fourth day of treatments, his wounds had almost closed, leaving behind the ache of tender skin. He let the straps hang on his arms while he chomped on the seafood stick, the gelato bowl quickly melting in his other hand.

Lloyd glared into his gelato bowl, eating from it aggressively. When he looked up at Kai, his gaze was serious. “I think Lady Harumi told my father about me being in the city. It must have been how he found out.”

“What a bitch,” Kai muttered, his mouth full of crab. He swallowed. “What makes you think that?”

“She came to the party with us,” Lloyd sighed. “I don’t know why on earth Brad thought it was a good idea to invite her. She saw me and left immediately after that—then the boneguard came. It’s the only thing that makes sense. I should have seen it coming—even if we were ever friends, she’ll always be more loyal to my father.”

Kai took another bite and chewed, stewing with annoyance. That little brat was the one responsible for his punishment? Her attitude had always been annoying. Even as a child, she’d been bossy and had made Lloyd cry of frustration on a few occasions.

Then, there was the way she’d been allowed opinion during the Governor’s Assembly. With every decision the governors made, the emperor would look to Kai first, for approval—then to the brat. She was barely nineteen years old, and a mortal, she shouldn’t have an opinion on state matters. It had irritated Kai endlessly during the three-day period that the girl was treated to be on the same level as him. It had given her a boldness she had far from deserved.

“Bitch,” Kai repeated. Lloyd nodded, rolling his eyes under the brim of his hat.

“For some reason, I just didn’t believe she’d be so willing to betray me like that,” Lloyd continued. “I’m going to have political power over all of the governors come my coronation, and maybe one day my father will pass on the crown to me. And if I’m right about her, I’m going to do everything to stop her from being successful in politics. Doesn’t she understand that? Why would she even risk betraying me? Just to get praise from my father? It doesn’t seem worth it.”

“Maybe she thought you wouldn’t find out,” Kai offered, tossing his finished crab stick into the grass. It’d decompose—eventually. Probably. “Poor planning, if that’s the case. She’s young.”

“I don’t think so,” Lloyd tapped his spoon to his lips. “She’s far from stupid. She must have known what she was doing.”

“Then maybe she just didn’t care if you found out.”

Kai frowned at his gelato bowl. It sloshed around under his glum look. Fuck! Lloyd’s was still solid and wafting cold air. Life was so unfair.

“But that would mean she’s not afraid of the consequences. Does she think I don’t have the spine or something?” Lloyd scowled. “She had you punished in front of me. I’m not just going to forget that.”

“I have no idea,” Kai shrugged helplessly, setting his melted gelato aside, and pulling his mask back over his nose. “Politics are always so annoying. They’re all always trying to get what they want in the most roundabout ways possible because that’s all they can do, weak as they are.”

Kai sighed and pulled his arms from the straps of the bags—the wrapped hands had been a good call, they’d saved his forearms the stress lines—and laid backwards. The cushioning of the bandages, his hoodie, and the plush grass beneath him allowed him to lay in relative comfort for the first time in days. He lifted the hat and put it over his face, turning the sunlight a warm orange through the bamboo strips. The sway of the grass and the chirping of dancing birds, chatter distant, filled him with an old nostalgia. He laced his fingers under his head.

This was nice. Maybe Lloyd hadn’t been the only one in need of a break from his responsibilities. Sure, the purpose of the trip was to keep Lloyd from spiraling completely into despair and forever associating Ninjago City with the worst day of his life—but Kai could multitask.

Feet approaching them through the grasses had Kai lifting his hat and glancing up through a narrowed eye. One of the kids fooling around with the leather ball was fearlessly walking up to them, the colorful ball tucked under his arms. His friends were chatting, some waiting for him.

“Hey, my name’s Zhonyi,” the guy stopped, gesturing back from Lloyd to his friends. His smile was genuine and he was breathing hard. “We’re trying to play a game of twida but we’re one man down—you wanna chill with us?”

Lloyd’s face split into a smile, forgetting his concerns about the Kurogane girl. He glanced at Kai. Kai’s body remained relaxed, one hand still under his head, and he studied the boy. No one around, including Zhongyi, had any sort of qi presence, which automatically made them no threat.

Kai dropped the hat back onto his face and waved his hand vaguely in permission. His fingers laced back together under his head. “I’ll watch the bags.”

He heard Lloyd pop up to his feet. “That’d be great! Uh, I don’t know what twida is, though.”

“Oh, seriously? Dude, you’ve gotta be the first person I’ve ever met to not know. Are you from the outskirts or something? Don’t worry, it’s really simple—there’s these two teams and they each have a goal…”

The two of them wandered off. Kai didn’t bother keeping an eye peeled, like he usually would—being able to sense Lloyd’s qi presence had it’s perks, strange as it was to be able to do. The longer they stayed away from Dreadmaw, though, the stranger it became. The bond should have faded the way that Kai’s bond with her had, and he would assume that would get rid of the leftover qi, but still it remained. Weirder still, the qi didn’t feel like Dreadmaw’s hot blaze of energy. It was…calm. Peaceful, like the sway of the trees and the songs of the birds. It no longer felt like Dreadmaw—it just felt like Lloyd.

Had Lloyd somehow developed qi overnight? It was…well, it should have been impossible. Qi was a layer of the soul that only celestial beings were aware of, including elemental masters, dragons, and oni, along with some mortals born with more attuned senses. Every person had a certain potential of qi. A small portion of that potential would be reached naturally, and the rest could be gained through practice. If Kai hadn’t trained as hard as he had since childhood, his fire would only be a fraction of what it was now, as the strength of his element was connected to the strength of his qi.

Normal people had next to no qi, so little that Kai could barely sense them if he had his hands on them. That was their full potential.

If Lloyd had ever had the potential to grow his qi, and whatever inherit powers he may have from his oni side, Kai would have been able to sense it since he was a child. These things didn’t just happen spontaneously.

But it had. Lloyd had gone from having no qi presence, to having one above that of a normal person. And his eyes were green. And he was talking to dragons.

Kai had a sinking feeling. But whatever he suspected these powers were—nothing explained where they had come from. Kai was at a complete loss. And, if he were to be honest, he was a bit afraid. What if something unholy had given Lloyd these powers? What if they hurt him? What if his father discovered them? Kai couldn’t think of anything worse—the emperor would probably lose his shit. Kai would have to find a way to hide Lloyd’s eyes when they got back. Captain Hutchins and Chamberlain Noble would help him—they’d always been willing to protect Lloyd from Garmadon.

He looked up at the peaked inside of the bamboo hat, his gaze dull. Another thing to add to the list.

He forced it from his mind and tried to relax.

At one point, Kai’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He blinked blearily and lifted his hat to pull the holoscreen up to his face—he had about a thousand messages, but the only one he cared enough to be notified of was Skylor’s. She had a few tips she’d found especially intriguing, the rest of them going to Tox and Ash for them to hunt through. ‘Free tonight?’ she’d messaged.

Kai sighed and turned it off, letting the empty black frame fall onto his chest.

Lloyd came running back up to him, out of breath, red in the face, but grinning like a madman a long while later. He’d wrapped his haori around his waist and his new hat hung on his back by the string over his throat. He didn’t seem to notice the discomfort. He was also sweaty—Kai offered him one of the fresh new deodorants they’d gotten from the market. All-natural and everything.

Lloyd rolled his eyes, but grabbed it. He slipped his mask back up over his face after regaining control of his breathing.

“See ya, Kazuki!” One of the young guys called out.

“Yeah, see you, man!”

Three more of them waved.

Lloyd waved back. “Travel safe, guys! Man, they were so nice. How’s your tanning been?”

“Too much shade,” Kai sighed in dramatic disappointment. “Guess next time we’ll have to go to the beach, instead.”

Kai didn’t know which part of that was making Lloyd burst with excitement—the promise that this wouldn’t be their last field trip, or the fact that they’d go to the beach.

But there was also the implication of ‘next time.’ “We don’t have to go home, yet, do we? There’s so much sun left in the day.”

“There’s only so long we could realistically be hanging out in the Dragon’s Keep before the servants get suspicious.” Even with Captain Hutchins’ help. “But I’ve still got another place to show you today. You ready to go?”

“Oh, yeah!”

Kai collected the mounds of bags, Lloyd tossed their gelato bowls, and they went off to flag down a taxi service. There were plenty hovertaxis along the streets, moving along with the traffic of other hovercars and the rare wheeled automobiles. Most that passed him and Lloyd at the edge of the park had red neon characters saying OCCUPIED, but one finally zoomed towards the side of the street reading VACANT in green.

The inside of the taxi was sleek, but it smelled faintly of cigarette smoke. It seemed even in the rich districts, not everything could be so clean. Kai wrinkled his nose, but Lloyd didn’t seem to notice the faint smell. Curse Kai’s heightened smoke perception.

They slid into the leather seats. Lloyd was much calmer than he had been on their ride over to Goldgrain Market—he’d been touching all of the taxi’s blinking panels with the curiosity of a kitten. Kai settled the bags at their feet and typed in an address to the holoscreen above the backwards-facing seats. Lloyd sat across from him.

“So, can I ask, or is it another—”

“Surprise,” Kai confirmed with a crooked grin.

“Alright, keep your secrets,” Lloyd waved him off, diving into his bags of goodies.

Lloyd had gotten three jars of jam, wrapped with potato sack bows—the soaps prior mentioned, swirled with all kind of colors—handmade candies of even more colorful variety—a scarf, a blanket—seeds, a small cactus plant—knitted gloves?—some odd-looking jewelry—herbal tea—a whole trove of entirely useless things. But Lloyd looked down at it all as if it were greater than the treasure in the Keep. He cradled a handful of wood-carved statues that seemed to be some kind of reptile—he picked up each candle and sniffed it pleasantly.

Kai attempted not to read too far into Lloyd’s strange joy. But it was impossible to ignore the complete lack of purples and blacks in all of the things he’d gotten. It seemed unlikely, considering the amount of imperial-themed trinkets there had been in the market, that it had been by chance. Lloyd finally had things, had chosen things that weren’t gifted to him or provided for him. And they were all useless—but Kai supposed they were all his.

The ride didn’t last very long. The Opal District was not only famous for it’s market. It was more likely that the market had grown famous because of the District’s claim to be the most beautiful corner of Ninjago City. It had a few places outside of the market that made a stake like that possible—including it’s legendary botanical gardens. The largest in the world, with the most extravagant and varied plants from all over Ninjago.

The green house was something that truly captured the word grandiose. It was larger than the palace of Shadowspire, the main dome in the center of the green yards, fenced in by four walls of greenhouse pathways. Smaller domes rose where the corners of the pathways met. Beyond the clear glass windows, built with condensation, rows and rows of flower beds and carefully manicured lawns lay. Toward the large green houses, the stone pathway was protected on both sides by cherry trees.

Lloyd’s mouth dropped open. Every cherry tree was in full bloom, apparently made of nothing but gorgeously delicate pink petals, some of which floated down with a majesty in the light skip of the breeze. Families and other Ninjagoan citizens out on walks strayed under the might of the cherry blossoms.

While Lloyd got out, under a trance, Kai ordered another two hours out of the taxi so that it would hold onto their bags. After he got out, it remained locked down on the side of the street where it was.

“They’re beautiful,” Lloyd breathed as they walked beneath the cherry trees. “I heard there weren’t many left in the city.”

“Yeah,” Kai murmured. “They were a symbol of the royal family before your father. Most people won’t ever know—but the emperor remembers. They are pretty, though, aren’t they?”

Far ahead, the stone steps lay. Though people wandered the grove before the front of the botanical gardens, no one climbed up or down the massively wide steps into the numerous glass doors that offered entrance. The reason was immediately apparent—on every door, there was a flyer that said Closed For Maintenance. Reservations May Be Rescheduled.

Lloyd slowed beside them as they went up the steps. He was visibly disappointed under his hat. “Damn. What a day for them to be shut down.”

Kai just smiled, shrugged, and pulled open one of the doors. A burst of warmer air greeted them. Lloyd gave him a strange look, but stepped inside.

They were immediately greeted with a man with a nametag and a badge. He smiled at them above his slick zhongshan suit. “Good afternoon, sirs. We’ve been expecting you. Here are information pamphlets with maps included—would you like the private tour of the gardens or would you prefer to wander the grounds?”

Lloyd took the pamphlets, opening one up curiously. The map was a large one. The prince fumbled to open it up all the way.

“We’d rather be left to ourselves,” Kai told the man shortly.

He nodded, folding his hands together with a pleasant smile. “Excellent. If you don’t mind, our staff will be using the day to prune the plants. Say the word if you would like them to leave any of the areas. Lord Shiroki sends his regards to the Shogun.”

The man bowed to them, gesturing towards the opposite doorway that would lead them into the yard of the gardens. Kai tugged at Lloyd’s haori to pull him forward when the boy got too absorbed in the map, his eyes blown wide.

“Did you rent Opal’s Botanical Gardens?” Lloyd snickered as they stepped out.

“No,” Kai said, mock-offended. “…I just called in a favor.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

And you’re a prince! It didn’t seem ridiculous to Kai.

“Hey, you like flowers, don’t you? Come on—I’m sure there’s some weird-ass plants we can find somewhere.”

“Bet I can find weirder ones than you.”

“You’re on.”

-

It wasn’t until they had landed that Kai realized that Lloyd’s qi had vanished, along with any presence in Kai’s mind aside from the dragon that had set them down so carefully. Lloyd was busy pulling the bags from the horn of the saddle, smiling to himself while Kai worked to loosen the saddle under Dreadmaw’s girth. She rumbled with annoyance, Kai able to feel the irritation the saddle straps had left between her scales. The metal bits of the saddle had warped a bit, stuck to her heat for so long.

When Lloyd’s emotions didn’t react to her annoyance, Kai glanced over at the prince. His qi presence was abruptly back to being just as negligible as it had been his whole life. Kai supposed the shared qi of the dragon communication was gone, after all. Strange. And Lloyd’s eyes had gone back to their usual mute red. Both of their hats sat over their shoulders, the string a light pressure at the base of Kai’s throat.

“Can you still sense her?” Kai asked while he worked. He finally unhooked one of her shoulders and ducked under her neck to unhook the other. The dragon let out a smokey exhale and flexed her joints.

Lloyd set down the bags and seemed to concentrate, looking towards Dreadmaw. The dragon reached her mind towards Kai with confusion, as if to ask why the connection had broken. He didn’t have an answer.

Lloyd huffed. He reached up to grab his head with a grimace. “No. Not a thing.”

“Don’t worry.” Kai unhooked the last strap and began to carefully tug the saddle off the side. The dragon laid herself on the ground with a heavy huff, giving Kai a better angle to catch it. He grunted under the awkward weight. “Newly unlocked abilities can be fickle—hard to control. We’ll start working at it during training and you’ll get the hang of it.”

“Awesome.” Lloyd’s grimace didn’t convey much enthusiasm. He made a sound of pain, wincing, and dug his palm into his temple.

Kai hooked the saddle back up on the wall of the colosseum. The orange torches flickered, sparks jumping as Dreadmaw’s large movements made them sway.

Kai patted Dreadmaw’s neck, ‘Good job, girl,’ and she rumbled, resting her head down on the stone floor. He felt her exhaustion through their bond. She’d spent much of the day flying to keep suspicion off of them on their return.

“You okay?” Kai’s hand trailed off the dragon’s scales. “Those elevation changes from flying are no joke.”

“Yeah, I’m…I’m good,” Lloyd dropped his hand, his smile a bit wearier. “Just a headache. Good idea to come back, actually—I didn’t realize how tired I was.”

“Hate to break it to you, but it’s almost time for supper with your father,” Kai told the boy, eyes flickering up out of the coliseum. The sides of the mountains were being painted with a warm glow, the sunset sliding through the cliffsides of the Pass. “But you can rest afterwards. I won’t be joining you tonight—I’ve got more work in the city.”

Lloyd groaned. “I don’t want to be alone with him. He’s going to make me talk to him again.”

“There are worse things he could do than asking how your day’s been,” Kai reminded him dryly, eyebrow quirking. “Maybe try to keep him happy instead of pissing him off.”

“But…I can’t just be okay with him. Things can’t…They can’t go back to the way it was before. I can’t unsee it. Every time I look at him—I…I just see the blood. And…him laughing.”

“So pretend.” Kai shrugged.

“Like you do?”

“It hasn’t failed me for ten years, so I’d say it has a pretty good track record.”

Lloyd did not look encouraged by this. “I don’t want to pretend for ten years—or my whole life! I…Look, I’ve been thinking—ever since that night, really…I love the empire, Kai, I do—but it has problems. The corruption from the top trickles to the bottom, I can see that now. Innocent people that are supposed to be under our protection get hurt because of it. I know it amuses my father, so he lets it go on, but—when I become Crown Prince, I want to change that. I want the empire to really be for the people. It’s our job to give everyone the happiest lives they can have and it’s about time we start doing that for the world, isn’t it? Or else the empire is no better than the serpentine or any of the other failed kingdoms of the past.”

Dreadmaw’s head perked up when the swirl of Kai’s emotions took her off guard. Her tail beat the ground and she swung her head his way—childish giddiness on her end of their bond in response to the swoop of Kai’s heart.

He couldn’t form words to respond to Lloyd for a moment. Not because he’d thought of what to say in the face of such an announcement a million times, but because he’d thought of it too often. Because this is what he’d done it all for. And Lloyd was saying it so easily, as he picked some ash off of his haori and frowned down at a smudge on it.

Lloyd looked up when Kai didn’t respond, his face a bit red from the boldness of his statements. But his determined gaze didn’t back down—filled, now, with a fire that hadn’t been there, even before the incident in the throne room.

“Will you help me?” The prince asked.

Kai couldn’t even smile—the breathless relief in his chest was too overwhelming. Dreadmaw shook her body, attempting to shake off the crash of the emotions.

No matter how he replied, his tone could not ever portray to Lloyd just how much the request meant. “Yes. Of course I will.”

Lloyd’s smile was of a relief that paled in comparison, even if he would never know to what extent.

The two of them left Dreadmaw to rest, Kai closing the heavy doors of the Keep behind them. The pale light of Shadowspire swallowed them outside of the colosseum. On the stone steps beyond, Kai nudged Lloyd and challenged him to sneak back into the palace without anyone noticing—mostly because Kai needed to do the same, dressed in civilian clothes as he was. If Lloyd had been shocked to see him in high tops, he might legitimately give a guard a heart attack. The Lord Chamberlain was getting up there in years—Kai didn’t know how much more grief the man could take.

Lloyd grinned at his challenge and melded into the walls of the garden. Kai was able to eye him flitting through the foliage a few times, but the boy was doing well for himself. Kai knew the moment he disappeared from Lloyd’s view completely, because the prince whipped his head around with a frustrated frown. Kai chuckled silently. As soon as Lloyd was safely within the palace walls, Kai peeled off from him.

There wasn’t a soul that noticed him between the stone steps and his own bedchambers. He sighed as he closed the door behind him, as silently as he had opened it. He didn’t need to flick his wrist for the fireplace and the torches in the room to burst to life with a healthy glow. Finally, out of the pale light once again. He glanced at his desk—the amount of papers piled up were deceptively few, but the holoscreen next to them seemed heavy enough to cripple the wood. He just knew he had thousands of unread documents that would sooner or later demand his attention. He groaned and thumped his head against the door behind him. Give him a master-damned riot any day. He was going to have to do paperwork while putting in the legwork for Garmadon’s new orders. The First Master truly hated him.

His heavy armor sat upon it’s stand, facing him as if a menacing being of it’s own. In the reflection of his mirror, it looked like he was facing himself. Poetic—and ridiculous. He stripped, his back providing far less complaints than it had the day before, and he donned the heavy armor.

With it on, he returned to Lloyd’s bedchambers to walk him to supper. He was afforded a new report by one of his young lieutenants on the way there.

“The captain told me to inform you, commander, that the glitch in the system at the barricade is being looked in to, as per your request,” the young guard said, striding alongside Kai. “Reports have confirmed that the glitch seemed to have been caused by physical damage rather than electrical interference. The hardware of the on-sight scanning systems were crushed. They don’t know how—there were no harsh weather warnings and there are at least a dozen witnesses that say no one touched the scanners or holos before they blew.”

Kai hummed. He’d suspected as much. “Anything else?”

“No, my lord. Aside from the arrival of Lady Harumi Kurogane earlier this afternoon. The Emperor has requested that she and Doctor Borg join him and the prince for evening meal.”

Kai frowned under his helm. “That will be all.”

The guard bowed his head and broke off from Kai’s heavy stride.

Kai had not been made aware that Kurogane’s daughter would be invited back to the palace. The emperor must have made it a private message. And the only reason Kai wouldn’t know was if Garmadon had wanted specifically to keep the information from him.

He gritted his teeth. What was it about this girl? Garmadon continued to invite her back into his counsel despite her being a nobody. She was not even twenty and Garmadon rarely acknowledged regular mortals as anything special. So why did he continue to show her fondness? What could she possibly give him?

Kai briefly considered that the Emperor has taken her as a mistress or concubine—she was widely considered to be a very beautiful woman, who garnered the praise of the people before her father’s death—but that seemed unlikely. The emperor hadn’t taken a lover for the entirety of Kai’s service with him, so he doubted the emperor would change his mind for a brat like the Kurogane girl. She was manipulative and too clearly had ambition of her own—Garmadon didn’t keep company like that so close. It was why he had valued the previous Kuroganes so highly, and Kai, of course. They were satisfied where they were and weren’t lusting after the emperor’s power.

And she’d fucked up Kai’s plans and Lloyd’s night out, so of course, Kai didn’t like her or the friendliness that the emperor was favoring her with.

He and Lloyd didn’t exchange small talk, dressed as they were, on the way to the Dining Hall. There was a new confidence to the way that Lloyd walked in his robes, not just the practiced superiority, but a determined march and a tilt to his chin that spoke of a new, unmoving resolve. Kai suppressed a smile. The boy who had brooded so readily the night before was gone.

The doors were pulled open before them. The emperor, along with Lady Harumi, Doctor Borg, and the android woman were sitting along the dining table. The women stood from their seats, Doctor Borg bowing properly in his chair. The emperor smiled in greeting.

“Your Highness, Lord Shogun, greetings,” Doctor Borg and the mechanical voice of the android echoed.

Lady Harumi curtsied, “Prince Lloyd, good evening.”

The room felt as if it had swallowed it’s breath for a long moment. Doctor Borg’s eyes flickered toward Harumi, his face pale and pulled with shock. Lloyd twitched at Kai’s side. The emperor’s eyebrow even raised, but he looked amused, of course, not put-off.

To an outsider, it would seem as if nothing was wrong. But Lady Harumi had not afforded Kai a greeting at all. In the emperor’s world of strict grace and tradition, it was proper to acknowledge anyone afforded more authority than you. Even Governor Kurogane, whom many would have considered the most powerful mortal in the land before his death, had bowed and shown humility toward Kai.

The fact that Lady Harumi had ignored him, as if he were just another guard, spoke loudly in the room of those trained in etiquette.

And her seating arrangement—she had taken the seat to the right of Garmadon, leaving the one to the left of Garmadon empty for Lloyd.

The seat to the right was the prince’s place.

The fact that the emperor seemed unbothered enough not to mention either of these things gave his unspoken approval.

Kai could hear Lloyd’s teeth gritting beside him, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of the bold slight towards Kai or the blatant disrespect towards Lloyd. Kai, too, could feel rage boiling inside him—who did this girl think she was? Kai had dug her whining ass out of pricker bushes as a child after she’d tried to trip Lloyd into them, and she dared act as if she held any importance at all?

Kai’s eyes slid over the occupants of the room as if they were background noise until he bowed his head toward the emperor. “Your Majesty, I will be taking my leave, now.”

“You may go,” the emperor lazily waved him off. The man-demon’s glowing eyes were only on his son, studying the prince’s face.

Lloyd glanced at Kai—Kai eyes flickered down to him—Calm down, Kai insisted wordlessly. Be a prince.

Lloyd looked away, raising his head to gaze at them all down his nose. His steely gaze was the perfect picture of a young man who knew he was worth more than the might of the palace that surrounded them. The tension between him and Lady Harumi was palpable.

Kai didn’t know what Lloyd did—whether he confronted the brat or if he had taken the insult with grace and sat in the other seat. Kai had already turned his back, leaving the prince to fight for himself.

Captain Hutchins was waiting to see him off. The persistent man waited in the Great Hall, which Kai just happened to have to walk through. In the Great Hall, the boneguard stood outside the throne room, still as statues, a signal that the emperor was not in his usual place. Kai snapped his fingers to get their attention—their previously still as death bodies twitched, heads screeching as their skulls turned towards him. The grit of bone on bone echoed in their metal armor.

Kai nudged his chin back where he’d just left—the boneguard, intimately familiar with this process, immediately stepped off, mechanical marching taking them back towards the Dining Hall.

“Commander,” Captain Hutchins murmured, falling into step beside him. “A gift from the physician. How do you fare?”

The man offered a small glass bottle on a leather cord. Kai scowled behind his mask, but took it, slipping it into his belt. “I am perfectly fine. I’m headed back into the city to begin my investigation. I will return within three days.”

“Of course,” Captain Hutchins sighed. “As you will.”

“Ensure any inquiries of mine related to the gate incident remain quiet,” Kai reminded him. “And—for the extent of Lady Harumi’s stay, I want four guards on her at all times. Our most loyal. Command them not to speak a word to her and to allow her no privacy outside of her bedchambers. If she leaves before I return, have them escort her all the way out of Shadowspire.”

“It will be as you command.” Kai could sense the man’s curiosity, but he was too loyal to think of questioning Kai’s word.

“She is not to be allowed to request the prince’s company.” Watch her.

“Understood, my lord. And if the prince requests hers?”

“…He may do as he wishes.”

They turned a corner, the next hallway being far more empty of guards and servants. Simply being without audience made the captain’s company feel far less stiff.

“Did your morning plans go well?” The man asked, an invisible tilt to his lips.

Kai glanced over out of the corner of his eye. “Yes. Thank you for your help.”

The captain hummed. “Always. Good luck, commander. I will watch over Prince Lloyd until your return. Please take care of yourself.”

Kai nodded, closing his eyes briefly. He couldn’t be concerned with the matters of Shadowspire while he was in Ninjago City. Thankfully, Captain Hutchins’ presence in his absence was enough to reassure him. Kai could set his sights elsewhere.

-

Half-lidded, unwavering, with loathing contained within. Scorched orange, ringed with a halo of golden flecks. The color melded deeper into the dark pupil that reflected with the flickering, sparking light. Warm yellows, hot orange, raging red in the deepest crevices. Close enough, and the hair-width of a nick over the glistening layer of the eye would be visible, lined up with the scar that dug through skin when the angle was just right.

Against the backdrop of the dark night sky, the colors were brighter and more glaring than they could ever be in the day. The air was heavy, dark, and smelled of burning wood, burning plastic, burning flower petals. The smoke swallowed any of the fresh pollen that had once remained, turning it to another speck of ash that rose into the sky like a great wave of the earth. Bursts of sparks and ash followed harsh crackling, loud in the dead of night.

The building was entirely consumed by the flames. It was only two stories, a shop beneath a condo that had been owned by those who ran the shop. It had a basement—that had been their condemnation. Fire roared out of the windows, up the sides. It was unnaturally large, had burst to life quicker than any normal fire would, and it seemed to be finding fuel where there should have been none. Even the stone bricks that made up the outside of the building were aflame. The heat of the structure should have set the buildings around it on fire—it had forced residents from the buildings next to it—but it seemed isolated in it’s own hell, the flames jealously clinging to it.

People stood in their doorways, ducked out from alleyways, their eyes reflecting the devastating fire as surely as those ringed with gold. They did not dare make a peep, they did not watch on in awe, they did not point and smile towards the hulking, scaled beast that filled out the street beside the fire. In the darkness, half-lit, scales glowing along her back, the dragon’s face was held within the shadow of the skull-helm, pulled far above them all. The dragon was transfixed by the destruction, and so clearly held the power to raze the entire neighborhood to the ground in the same way that the building would be reduced to nothing. It’s jaw hung open, rows of terrible teeth releasing smokey pants with ever breath.

Before the building that had once been a flower shop, the Shogun’s emotionless mask turned away. The glare of the amber eyes gave away his cold annoyance. Among the street that felt as if it were being punished by the high summer sun, those eyes could have been an ice tundra.

“Useless,” the vocoder intoned.

The general crouching before the building tsked and tossed in what seemed to be a handful of papers. They did not even have to hit the flaming pots near the front steps before they burned away, glowing embers joining the raging fire. The fire was mirrored in the reflective helmet and the metal pieces of armor over her dark gi.

She shook her head. “It’s safe to assume that they were an isolated cell. Not associated with the Resistance, judging by their lack of resources, and their meeting below. And if they were, they didn’t know anything useful.”

“Another waste of our time.”

“Seems like it. Do I need to alert the locals of any possible survivors?”

“No.” The oni helm tilted towards her. “Unless any below escaped.”

“No worries there.”

“Then we move on.”

The dragon tore her gaze from the dancing flames that transfixed her. The longing was shared along the bond, but Kai forced the both of them to ignore it. Dreadmaw stretched her neck down—people peeking out from their homes quickly slamming windows shut or slipped back inside at the movement of the legendary monster. The darkness of the night pulled them all into shadow beyond the great fire.

Skylor leaped up behind Kai, settling pressed against him and grabbing his waist for stability. His wounds had healed enough that it was no longer excruciating. Her warmth matched that of his own. The flap of the dragon’s wings only swirled the tongues of flame, but did nothing to put them out. The locals would handle it. Kai was counting on the place burning down to cinders before they could handle it properly. As they had with the other tip that had turned out to be a genuine instance of insurgency.

The other five tips they had followed up on had been worthless. Even the two that had held some promise had turned out to be groups of people working alone against their local imperial posts. But a message was a message—even if they hadn’t worked directly for the rebellion, the rebellion would understand well enough what it mean for every stint of terrorism to be burned to the ground by him personally. He was coming for them. Those in the Tonge District, far from the rich arch of districts to the west, understood that as well. Here, to the east, the Shogun was no savior, rather the devil incarnate. Here, it was easy.

“Have the others come up with anything?” Kai asked as they flew above the shorter, stockier buildings of the eastern Inno Region.

“No,” Skylor reported, pulled a hand away from him to look at the screen on her forearm gauntlet. “It seems like General Tox broke up an illegal drug ring down in Styx associated with the rebels, but she got carried away. None left to interrogate—all of them escaped or killed.”

Kai cursed. “It was a mistake sending her out on her own. She’s too reckless. We should have forced them to work as a pair.”

“I’ll contact General Ash now,” Skylor shouted over the wind of their flying. “He’ll be thrilled to be given the authority to reign her in.”

Kai sighed. He wasn’t surprised that they hadn’t yet found anything—it was only a few hours in to their first night hunting for clues. But his impatience had always been a constant companion.

Dreadmaw rumbled in agreement. She had been promised some kind of action tonight—but all she’d done so far was fly them around. She wanted to snap her jaw around something, tear something apart—she wanted to help Kai burn buildings to the ground. Unfortunately, her control was far more chaotic than Kai’s. To release her wildly into the city would be too dangerous.

He patted her neck. ‘Don’t worry. We’re not stopping until we find something. You’ll get your fun.’

“Keep heading south!” Skylor pointed around his shoulder. “It’s about ten blocks that way!”

Dreadmaw swooped over the city.

Their next target was just as unassuming as they had all been that night. It was passed curfew, so there were no people out on the streets, but as Dreadmaw’s weight made the street quake, lights turned off and windows were quickly latched closed. An MP patrol car happened to be passing and it blew to the side on it’s hover technology before rightening and continuing down the road. Dreadmaw’s head followed it until it turned a corner.

Skylor leaped down gracefully, her feet silent as she hit the ground. She flicked her wrist, gesturing towards a building with two fingers in a smooth military motion. It was a private animal shelter. They could already hear dogs barking inside. Dreadmaw sniffed toward the shop curiously.

Kai slid down. As soon as the street cracked under his feet, a buzzing under his obi belt stole away his attention.

He patted his side, then slipped his hand under the red sash to pull out his personal cell. The holoscreen was lit up with an incoming call—only so many people had access to direct communication with him, so a call was concerning in itself—doubly so because it seemed to be Captain Hutchins. He’d rarely called Kai while he was on duty, not since Kai had left Lloyd for over a week for the first time and the kid had not stopped throwing a tantrum until he’d gotten to speak to Kai. Even when the assassination attempt had happened a few weeks before, the captain had only sent him a message.

Kai held up a hand to Skylor while he answered the call. With that hand, he gestured for her to go on. Her helmet nodded and she went on to investigate alone—starting by twisting the handle off the locked door with a screech and slipping inside.

“Hello?” Kai’s voice modulator greeted. Luckily, it prevented the concern from appearing in his tone.

“Hey, hi—So, I’m not Captain Hutchins.”

The voice sounded…totally casual and unbothered. Kai sighed, putting his free hand on his hip. “Your Highness. I’m working right now. And you’re not allowed to make calls out of Shadowspire.”

“Yes, I know, I know—” Lloyd made a pfft sound. “—It’s not like my father’s going to notice. He’s too busy with his new consort or whatever the hell is happening there. He allowed her into his meeting with Doctor Borg, you know! Some dragonspit about her being a technical advisor! What, she can be involved, and I can’t?! Who does she think she is?”

Kai rolled his eyes. Skylor’s light flashed across the windows from within the building—the lights flicked on when she found them. “Did she threaten you? If she threatened you, I can get rid of her.”

“No,” Lloyd grumbled. “She’s still pretending to be civil. But she knows exactly what she’s doing. She’s acting like she’s winning something—but I have no idea what she thinks she’s competing with me for! We live in entirely different worlds!”

“I’m sorry that you’re frustrated,” Kai said with no sympathy. “But I’m dealing with some very important business, so you’d better have something better than complaints.”

“Sorry, I do, I promise it’s important.” Lloyd took a deep breath. “You said you wanted to help me, right?”

Kai furrowed his brows. The street remained desolate around him. “Are you talking about cleaning up the empire? Right now? It’s only been a few hours.”

“I know, but I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and I know how big of a job it is, but—we have to start somewhere, right?”

“…Sure.”

“Right. So, I have an idea. The other night, I was in the city with Brad. I don’t remember exactly where we were, but it was in the Crowns District, and, uh…I think it was down the main street because the parade had gone through there and…”

Lloyd prattled on and Kai was struggling to understand how the hell any of the kid’s words were relevant to the topic of conversation—or why they couldn’t talk about this later. But the prince seemed rather insistent and fired up, so Kai let him talk.

While he did, Skylor came back out, barking following her. She held up a small square chip—half of it was illuminated with a blue LED. A microchip that she must have used to download information from a computer. That meant she’d found something worthwhile.

She was nodding in response to his silently raised eyebrow. “Guilty as all hell. Hacked into his laptop and recovered some deleted files—he’s involved with the main host of rebels and has been for months, at least.”

Kai nodded, pulling the phone back from his vocoder. “Good work.”

He tilted his head toward Dreadmaw. ‘I told you there’d be something for you to do. Burn it to the ground.’

The massive dragon turned her head down his way. But her immediate response was not excited, even if he could tell she was holding back the instinct to do just that.

Dreadmaw refused, staring down at him.

“What?” Kai pulled the phone away from his ear, losing Lloyd’s convoluted story. Had he understood her right? ‘You’ve been demanding a chance to go wild all night!’

She resolutely turned her head from the building, her smoking jaws further from it to prove a point. She sent him the image of a small, furry creature. He couldn’t tell what it was supposed to be—it was like she didn’t even fully understand what she was referring to.

Realization dawned over him. But he couldn’t believe it was making a beast such as a red dragon hesitate. They cared little for the world outside their own kind.

He flipped up his free hand in exasperation. ‘You’ve never cared about mortal humans, but you’re worried about some mutts with a fraction of your lifespan? They’re just animals.’

Lloyd was still going on. “—but then he hit her! And I was like ‘what the hell’ but Brad was like ‘there’s nothing we can do’ and so—”

“Your Highness!” Kai snapped. Lloyd immediately quieted. “Please, give me a moment.”

Dreadmaw shook her head, huffing, and a rumble vibrated up her serpentine neck. The scales along her back flashed orange. Skylor looked between her and Kai. Her face was hidden, of course, but Kai could read the shock in the tensity of her shoulders. She probably hadn’t even known Dreadmaw had her own intelligence, as in tune as her and Kai’s actions usually were.

‘Then I’ll do it myself,’ Kai threatened. ‘No fire-breathing for you tonight.’

The dragon hissed, high pitch and whiny. She still wanted to let lose, she just didn’t want the animals in there.

Kai gestured aggressively. He sent her images of strays dying on streets and being kicked at by stupid kids and shot down by troopers cleaning the roads. Animals being euthanized after too long in the joint. They were all going to die, one way or another. The dragon did not budge.

“Fine!” He grumbled, glaring at the dragon. To Skylor, he scoffed, “Bring the rebel to me. Take this lazy lump with you.”

Dreadmaw preened at his agreement, thumping her tail on the road. The street shuddered, the concussive bangs echoing. She overflowed their bond with her satisfaction and pleasure and Kai pushed it away with annoyance. She tugged at the hidden guilt. Kai scowled under his mask. ‘Go! Shoo! Do your damn job! Freeloader.’

Skylor clambered up, shooting Kai an unknowable look, before Dreadmaw lifted them both into the sky. Kai watched them go, shaking his head as the street went quiet once more.

But in truth, he knew Dreadmaw hadn’t cared. She’d never even known a pet animal, she would probably kill even Captain Hutchins if he annoyed her too badly—she didn’t have the understanding or the capacity to care like that. Dragons weren’t built to give a damn outside of their own species.

But Dreadmaw had sensed Kai’s true feelings. The flicker of the thought he’d considered. Even when Kai could deny it up and down to himself and everyone else, the dragon had known better. She’d been trying to protect him from living with heavier guilt. The bastard. Her bringing such attention to it made it impossible for him to ignore, to push down.

He couldn’t care about such meager things. Old Kai had might have had the privilege, but he hadn’t been able to for a long time.

He gritted his teeth. He brought the phone back to his face as he strode toward the animal shelter. He kicked the door in haphazardly and it splintered, wood shaving off at the joint.

“Lloyd—Go ahead, now. You were saying something about an apartment?”

There was another door leading into where the animals seemed to be kept overnight. It looked sturdier, outlined in metal. This time, when Kai dug his heel in, the doorframe cracked and the door left it’s hinges. The door flew into the room, smacking down into the floor with a loud BANG! The animals on either side began to go crazy, howling and yowling. Kai surveyed them with distaste.

“Uh, yeah…it’s okay. I know you’re working. I just—figured—Okay. So, basically, there were these three MPs arresting a couple. They were being way too violent, though, and they hurt some innocent kids. I don’t think people like that should be allowed to police citizens. Police should be people that citizens can trust, not people they’re afraid of.”

“In an ideal world,” Kai looked around. Three dogs in bigger pens, and six cats in layered ones. They were all different levels of mangy. “Yes, that should be how it works.”

“Ideal world has to be the goal,” Lloyd said firmly. “I was talking with Doctor Borg’s assistant, Pixal—”

“The android?”

“Yes, she’s actually very nice and thoughtful. I understand why people are wary of androids, but—she just seemed like a person to me. I think we’re friends, now.”

One of the mutts looked up at Kai with watery eyes beneath dark fur. Those eyes rolled in the dog’s head in his excitement at a visitor—the one next to him was turning in circles, pausing to bark at Kai, then doing it again.

Should Kai just kill them? Dreadmaw had only made it clear that she wouldn’t, not that she cared whether or not Kai did. It would save them the pain of starvation—a pain Kai knew more intimately than anyone.

“Since she’s the doctor’s assistant, she has access to all of the BorgTech cameras in the city that the empire uses, so she was able to identify the troopers for me. I’ve got their names—I want you to fire them. You can do that, right? Since you’re the Lord Commander of the military?”

“I can do that,” Kai rumbled.

The dog whined hopefully as Kai reached forward. No, he wouldn’t do it. Killing rebels was a direct order from Garmadon, and an expectation Kai didn’t have a choice but to follow. But taking these lives would hold no benefit for Kai. It would be meaningless violence.

“Awesome,” Lloyd sighed with relief. “I have their names. Are you able to write them down?”

Kai pulled up the latch of the dog’s cage. It swung open—Kai stepped passed it. The dog barked in excitement, tail wagging hard enough to shatter bones. It shot from the kennel and pounded out the door.

He unlatched the next cage. “I’ll remember them.”

“They’re part of the 7th precinct. Crowns District, remember?”

Kai hummed. He unlocked the plastic door. The cat within was pressed against the back of the cage.

He unlocked the others. All of the cats shot out, much less excited to be around him than the dogs, but escaping just as quickly. They yowled and hissed, bounding off one another in their rush to get out the door. Paws scrambled around Kai’s heavy boots. Lloyd rambled off the names by Kai’s ear.

The first cat, when Kai walked back, had been the only animal to remain. He glanced in—there was some sort of wrapping on the animal’s leg. The shelter, judging by the equipment in the other room, seemed to double as a veterinarian's clinic. This cat was too weak to join the others. It was weary, helpless—it wouldn’t be able to survive on it’s own. It looked old, as well—even if it hadn’t been injured, it would end up being the bottom of the food chain.

For this one, it would be a mercy to leave it behind.

“Anything else?”

“No, that’s all. They have the night shift, that’s why it was urgent enough for a call—I figured you could handle it right away if I caught you in time.”

“I will, Your Highness. Now, sleep.”

“Yes, yes, I know. Thanks, Kai. I knew I could count on you.”

Kai hung up.

The shop was very quiet. The light from the other room spilled into the hallway and the room with all of the opened cage doors. It barely illuminated the abandoned street beyond, which was so empty in the night, it almost felt apocalyptic. It was like Kai was the only one in the world.

He walked into the other room, listening to the silence. The computer was still booted up from Skylor’s splicing of it. There were posters advertising all of the animals pinned to the board behind the office desk. There were a few that had been absent—either adopted, or put down, Kai didn’t know. There were no obvious signs of rebellion. Skylor was good at her job.

Kai put his hand on the desk. His hand heated and heated until the glove began to burn off of his fingers. Beneath, his skin glowed a hellish red-orange. A handprint immediately melted into the wooden surface, his hand sinking into it as if it were nothing more than soft butter. The area around the molten liquid burst into immediate flames.

The flames shot over the desk, down the sides, eating even the metal legs of it. The computer was quickly consumed and burst, sparks exploding from it. The papers all over the board were engulfed, the photos of the animals turned to white-hot remains.

The fire crawled up the walls, across the floors, into the other rooms, like a predator searching for it’s prey—every inch of it’s wake was consumed in the hunt.

Kai felt when Dreadmaw drew near once more. The flames swallowed the threshold of the door by the time the building shuddered with the great landing. The fire did not bother Kai as he walked through it—the flames caressed him with love and devotion.

The street was lit up with the spectacle, as the last street had been. And, like the floral shop, it would be too late to save the building by the time the fire department arrived.

Beyond the door, the veterinarian in pajama pants and a T-shirt had been thrown to the ground, his hands scraped on the street. Blood was pooling under his palms. He looked up, eyes blown with horror, mouth dropped open, his face contorted. The side of his jaw was swelling and darkening. In his eyes, Kai’s form blot out the raging fire, like a sun eclipsed, as Kai loomed over the man. He was unimpressive, small—helpless.

“No—No, no, no! Please, First Master!” There was hatred in his terrified gaze. “You–You—monsters!”

Kai walked right passed the sniveling wreck as a sob burst from the man’s throat. He watched his life burn, limbs shaking, spots on his clothes singed from the ride on the dragon. In his horror, he was glued to the sight of the building engulfed by the growing inferno.

Skylor stood in Dreadmaw’s shadow as the man’s cries and wails of despair echoed toward his destroyed dreams.

“General,” he eyed her. “How much longer do you have?”

The grimace was in her voice. “I’m going to hit my limit in maybe twenty minutes. We’ve already been out here for five hours.”

“You won’t be able to ride with me when you lose the fire resistance,” Kai murmured. “You’re dismissed for the night.”

“No, no,” the man behind them mumbled, face pressed into the ground.

“Understood,” she nodded. She couldn’t say, Are you sure? or Thanks, sounds good, or Then you should get some rest, too. Her helmet tilted toward the groveling man.

“I will see to him,” Kai growled. “You deal with this.”

“With wha…?”

Kai reached up and under his ridiculously large shoulder pauldron and pulled out a curled mass of mangy, striped fur. Skylor’s helmet silently stared at it as the cat tiredly lifted it’s head and blinked open it’s half-greyed eyes. She fumbled to reach up and catch it as Kai dumped it into her arms.

She forgot all about how she was supposed to act in front of the suspect.

“Wha—What the hell am I supposed to do with this?” The cat slumped into the soft folds of the woman’s gi, content to go back to sleep.

“I don’t know and I don’t care. We’ll resume our investigation tomorrow. See what you can find from the contents of the holochip.”

“I—Sho!” She hissed, but he had already turned away.

The man was standing and had tried to run, but Dreadmaw’s large maw had snapped the air before him, causing him to stumble back again. Dreadmaw growled in delight, leaning her form up and flapping her wings, then roaring. The man collapsed in terror, staring up at the dragon, paralyzed.

The whole block shuddered under the roar. Windows wobbled. The fire raged on, spitting embers over them.

“You,” Kai rumbled. The man’s head whipped down to him. “You will tell me everything you know and I will ensure your death is swift.”

“N-No! You won’t get anything from me!” He shook his head, scrambling backwards. “If dying for the cause is what it takes, that’s what I’ll do! I’ll die a thousand times! Revolution is coming! Not even you can stop it, you demon bastard!”

Kai grabbed the man by the shirt and began to drag him. The man clutched onto his hand, but yelped at the heat—his fingers sizzled at the brief contact with Kai’s skin. He tried kicking out his legs, to no avail.

Through the monotone of the vocoder, Kai’s tone sounded inevitable.

“We will just have to see about that.”

He gave Dreadmaw the go-ahead.

She made a beastal, almost bird-like, echoing bark, raising herself up into the sky. She coiled her head back, winds blowing across the man’s hair—and a wide jet of flames bigger than a semi-truck FWOOMED! The air itself burned away as the yellow-hot flames smashed into the upper levels of the building. The jet of flames was powerful enough to mold the wall inward, blow bricks out of place, as molten spittle dripping from between the dragon’s teeth. It hissed and formed small holes where it hit the pavement.

Dreadmaw’s growls and roars of joy were eerie in the silent night, shaking the foundations of the area. The man had screamed initially, and was now shaking like a newborn—newly terrified of a world that his eyes were now realizing he’d never had a chance in. There were apex predators in this world and he was so far below them, it was laughable.

Kai was doing nothing more than holding him by the hem of his shirt and the man was utterly worthless. The fight had drained out of him as the burst of fire echoed in his gaze over and over as Dreadmaw circled the building, leaped onto it, burrowed her claws and tried her best to knock it in, like a child destroying a lego tower. Finally, the roof caved in under her pressures and she roared as her mass sunk into the building.

Windows exploded into the street, then bricks, then a whole corner of rock wall tumbled over the front. It shattered into large piece not a few feet away from Kai—the man screamed. Any debris that got too close to Kai melted into in the air and turned to molten, dripping on his armor harmlessly. Kai let the pieces of rock hit the man, cutting across his skin, until he was forced to roll up and hide his face.

Finally, Dreadmaw had enough and leaped down from the ruins of the forth floor, where the wall had totally blown out. The fire still raged as angrily as ever, consuming what was left of the lower floors and the debris that scattered across the street. Flaming papers floated over their heads.

When Kai glanced back, Skylor was gone.

Kai let the man scramble to hold onto him to avoid the burning scales of Dreadmaw as they flew through the air. The nearest base was happy to detain him for Kai when he dropped him off to finish the other errand he had just been assigned for the night. The man panted and ripped away from Kai, clutching multiple burns he’d accumulated as a consequence of the fight, and he could only limp as the troopers dragged him inside.

Thankfully, Crowns wasn’t far from where he was. It was a quick trip, really.

The streets below them were emptied and dark. Some street lights were turned on for safety reasons, but majority of them were not to discourage people from wandering after curfew. A few more MP patrol cars passed by below, silent and fast without their lights on. The city didn’t feel asleep, though. It just felt tense, like over the course of the night, Ninjago City only knew how to hold it’s breath.

Dreadmaw had spent her extra energy, so she was quiet and droopy over the ride. She did more silent gliding than flapping of the wings. No one below would even know they were passing. It allowed Kai to clear his mind and lower his own temperature, so to speak.

He took deep breaths. It was just him and the air.

His back was beginning to ache again, but it had taken much longer, this time, with the aid Captain Hutchins had given him on behalf of the physician. He was almost healed.

That veterinarian man had been with the Resistance, at last—but he had been far from an elemental master, much less a ninja. It seemed like there was much more investigation ahead of them, no matter what. Were these new ninja even out there? Or had it all been a fever dream by those shocked by the labor camp invasions?

No. Kai could sense it. The old man was back.

And he’d replaced his old brainwashed soldiers with new ones. How many times had he done that over the course of his lengthened life? How many had come before Kai’s time? How many would he continue to target after Kai was gone?

No. Kai thought. The cycle stops here. I’m stopping it.

He refocused on the task at hand.

The 7th precinct soon appeared between the middling buildings of the Crowns District. It was the only place that had all of the lights on, with cars frequenting the area beneath it, and people actively coming in and out of the glass doors. They were all uniformed, the state of their helmets or type of uniforms varying. Some were in dress uniforms, others in armor with blasters at their sides.

All stopped and stared as Dreadmaw dropped Kai before them. Knowing that he would not take long, she drew her torso up and waited, eyes lazily gazing down the street with disinterest.

Kai heard some quiet exclamations of shock, but every officer and trooper scrambled to bow, slamming their fists over their hearts in a salute. Some nervously offered proper greetings—“Good evening, lord commander!”—but the tension in the air was thick. All of them wondering, of course, What in the realm was the great commander doing at their nobody precinct at this time of night?

The buzz followed inside. The receptionist woman craned her neck up, her face utterly void of color as his shadow fell over her. Her glasses fell from the tip of her nose, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“Get me your captain.”

His vocoder loud and shocking in the utter silence of the frozen greeting room.

“Right away, Shogun, of cou—” He walked passed her. “—of course.”

The main lobby of the building was high-ceiling’d and full of desks. Pairs of MPs chatted, leaned on each others’ desks. Most, to their credit, looked to be in serious conversations, pointing toward computer screens, discussing over papers. There were many coffees in hand for the beginning of the graveyard shifts. The amount of troopers heading out of the building suggested they had only begun their assignments. Good. More likely that few were out on patrols. Kai would rather keep this brief.

The room stilled when he walked in. There were the quite noises of a video playing unpaused, but people otherwise quieted with awe. Kai hooked his thumbs under a weave rope at his waist and waited without a word. Troopers and officers uneasily attempted to go back to their work, but it was obvious they were all too aware of his presence at all times.

It was only a minute, perhaps less, before the precinct’s captain greeted him. It was a minute long enough to earn Kai’s irritated glare. If it hadn’t been Lloyd that had asked him specifically to do this, he’d have chalked it all up as a waste of time. But…for Lloyd. Kai could be patient.

“Shogun,” the captain bowed low, saluting with his fist. “My sincerest apologies for not giving you a proper greeting—We…had no idea you were coming—We must have missed the message, otherwise, I promise we would have prepared—”

Kai put a hand up. The man immediately silenced, straightening. A smart one, then.

“No need. I came unannounced. My task was considered urgent.”

“Of–Of course, my lord,” the captain nodded. “And what, if I may…what do you want with the 7th? We’ve had no large cases in our sector, far as I’m aware, and we haven’t had any large issues within. But if there is anything I can help the empire with, I would be honored.”

Kai eyed him. He let the man wait a moment longer, waiting to see if he would squirm. He was clearly uneasy, but he remained steadfast. A loyal man.

Kai took pity on him and ended the quiet consideration. “Ping Chen, Banner Park, Futsu Takahashi. Your men?”

“Ah—Yes, sir. Two of them have worked under me for more than a decade.”

“Bring them to me. Now.”

Sweat appeared on the man’s brow as he nodded. Kai hadn’t touched the temperature of the room. The captain turned back to the officers and shouted the names out, then around the corner, to call them up to the front. It seemed Lloyd’s suspicion had been correct—all three were working tonight.

The three men came to stand before Kai, one after the other. Those in the room were attempting and failing to appear as if they weren’t watching every moment—that was fine with Kai. Perhaps they’d even learn something, should they bear witness.

“These are them, my lord.” The captain bowed a final time.

The three men saluted, following suit. All three looked on edge enough to throw a punch had Kai been anyone else. None dared look near his eyes, theirs trained firmly on the ground or the wall behind Kai’s back.

Kai flicked his hand the captain’s way. “Step back.”

The man did so, throwing a nervous look toward his men.

“Four nights ago, the three of you committed several acts of police misconduct in the form of assault and battery, including against children. Do you deny these claims?”

The men were too afraid to speak. One, an older one, opened his mouth, but he froze, any words choking in his throat. Some troopers in the background looked at each other with pale faces, a few giving the three men wary looks.

“Speak!” Kai boomed.

“No, lord commander, we do not deny them,” the man in the center said—rasped. He knew better than to lie.

“Abuse of police power will not be tolerated in the precinct from this moment going forward. As for the three of you, your fates have been decided personally by the crown.”

“Th-The emperor is angry with us?” the youngest choked.

Kai gazed over them with cold eyes.

“For your criminal negligence and use of excessive force against criminal citizens and minors, you have been sentenced to immediate execution. Your fates will be shared with any who may repeat your mistakes.”

“Wha—?”

“Wait,” the middle said, shaking his head and backing away. “Wait, wait, you must be mista—”

“Lord Commander—pl-please reconsi—”

Kai did not move. His amber eyes remained indifferent, the gold ring seeming to burn when all three bodies burst into flames.

The stench of burning hair, of cooking meat, was half filtered through his mask, but the smell was not new to him. Neither were the bloodcurdling screams that only lasted a moment. There was nothing quite like the sounds a human being could make when one was burning alive. Kai couldn’t quite comprehend the feeling of skin boiling and bubbling off of muscle, the pockets of heat expanding and blowing through flesh, the endless pain of every nerve—but he liked to believe that he had enough experience with pain to imagine it in his own way.

Their brains melted within the confines of their skulls, their eyeballs blackening and dripping from their sockets as every inch of skin went from red to red to burnt brown to blackened flesh. They could be considered lucky, Kai thought. Burning alive of a natural flame took much longer.

One body, then another, then the last collapsed after a brief stumble and wave of their aflame limbs. The frantic twitching of the bodies soon slowed as the inhuman noises were cut short, though the blaze didn’t falter.

The smell would stick. It would remind every one of the troopers with their utterly horrified eyes reflecting that flame to not make a mistake. It would remind them for the rest of their lives.

A trooper collapsed to their weak knees and threw up on the carpet between desks, pulling up the visor of their helmet in order to do so. Another vomited into a garbage can at the back of the room. Others, like the captain, could not seem to pull their sickened, white gazes from the trio of burning pyres. But none dared make as much as a terrified sound.

“May fortune favor you tonight, captain,” Kai’s vocoder dismissed as he walked by.

The captain flinched, but his eyes did not move.

Those in the front room had leaned around the wall or had been close enough to hear and understand everything that had happened. One trooper was leaning against the wall for support. The young woman doing her receptionist work had both hands clamped firmly over her mouth, wide eye darting from the doorway to Kai and quickly down to her desk. Her fingers dug into her cheeks. Kai thought he heard her whimper as he strode passed.

Dreadmaw was already lowering her head by the time Kai stepped out into the fresh night air. His eyes were dull. His chest felt utterly empty, as if nothing had ever been there.

Mission complete.

-

The following two weeks passed. Kai’s life consisted of balancing his usual duties with setting hours at a time aside to bring Lloyd into the city. Every time they were out in it, something seemed to inspire him, and the bright magical green would return to his eyes. The first days after the market, they ate disgustingly greasy pizza, visited the beach, went to an arcade, and Kai introduced Lloyd to a very old hobby—rooftop hoping.

Lloyd’s new powers quickly proved to operate similarly to an elemental master’s in that he was granted enhanced speed and strength above that of a normal person. He wasn’t beating Kai in any contests, yet, but if the boy kept training, he’d likely be able to reach Kai’s level—the kid beamed like none other when Kai told him as much. Which just made Kai eager to prove that he still had a lot to learn.

“Come on, wait up already!” the prince called from two rooftops back, voice carrying over the daytime rush of the city. The green bamboo hat was firmly back on his head, but his fresh modern flannel was flapping in the breeze.

“I told you to keep up, didn’t I?” Kai shouted back from under his own flower-painted hat. He grinned under his facemask—yeah, being unfair, but who else was going to rib the kid?

Kai leaped up from a roof, foot launching him from a concrete barrier, only for metal to dig into his palms as he caught the next building’s fire escape. He climbed it with the dexterity of a spider, flipping himself up the last of the rungs and tucking into a perfect landing. He posed for no one—because Lloyd was still being slow, only barely getting onto the rooftop below.

Above, a blimp slowly floated passed. The airtram blared it’s horn in the distance.

Kai leaned over the edge, flicking the edge of his hat to teasingly mock the boy. Lloyd was panting, his mask tugged down, and he scowled up at Kai.

“Are you coming?” Kai asked, leaning onto his hand with a dramatic sigh. His voice echoed down the alleyway. “I never thought I’d die of old age, but you’re making me wonder!”

“Yeah I’m coming, and when I get up there, I’m going to wipe that dumb look off your face!”

Kai laughed. “Prove it!”

Lloyd rolled up the sleeves of his flannel—he’d taken quite the liking to green ever since gasping at his reflection in the city for the first time—and braced his feet. With a running leap over the chasm (that Kai only had a small heart attack watching) Lloyd caught the supports of the fire escape and begun to scramble up. He was less graceful, less practiced, but the prince was catching on to the movements of the city far faster than Kai had in his youth. He was eager and glad to learn.

Kai leaned away from the edge, digging into one of his larger cargo pockets. Inside were two wide cylinders, about the length of his forearm. He flicked one open—it extended into a full bo-staff with a sharp shink! Ancient characters glowed up the sides of it before fading away. Ah, how he loved his access to magical artifacts. Almost as much as Ninjago’s ancient people loved their fancy weapons.

Lloyd’s hand finally appeared on the lip of the building and he pulled himself up, grunting with the weight of his body. He threw a leg over, then rolled sideways onto the roof, catching himself on all fours.

He grinned at Kai, huffing and puffing, as he used the barrier to pull himself up. “I’ve always wanted to climb up one of those.”

The fire escape? Kai raised a brow. “That’s a very specific dream to have. Heads up.”

He tossed the second bo-staff, the weapon extending as it sailed through the air. Lloyd caught it skillfully, spinning it into a backwards grip.

“I guess it is. I don’t know.” Lloyd pondered, slowly circling the bo-staff behind him. “Ever since I was a kid and we would watch those old movies where the superheroes would do it…I just think it’s cool. The city is so cool.”

“No arguments there,” Kai agreed. He spun his own bo-staff before stopping it in a sharp grip. He immediately loosened it as he begun to circle around to Lloyd. Lloyd mirrored his movements. “You think you can do it this time?”

Lloyd made a face. “We don’t even know if I have more powers. How many times will I have to practice until you know for sure?”

“I’m not exactly the expert on oni, kid,” Kai said dryly. “If you had the same powers as your father, maybe I could help you out on that one, but he sure as hell can’t talk to dragons. There’s no rules on how to figure stuff like this out. It just happens. And unless you want to put yourself in a life-or-death situation to force it—and no, put your hand down, I’ve already told you that there’s no way in hell—you’re just going to have to wait for it to happen naturally.”

Lloyd groaned. “But what if it takes another seventeen years?!”

“Don’t worry.” Kai pulled his mask down to breathe easier, studying the glow of Lloyd’s emerald irises. “It feels like the time for waiting is over.”

The bo-staffs cracked! together as Lloyd lunged and Kai defended. The staffs were a whirl of constant motion, their feet skidding and throwing the gravel across the rooftop. Kai, in a cheeky move, spun his staff up and knocked Lloyd’s hat back, causing it to fall from his head. Lloyd instinctively moved to catch it, but it caught on the string at his throat anyway, and Kai swiped the feet from under him.

Lloyd went down hard, but was skilled enough to roll through it and end up back on his feet, staff up. He was scowling at Kai again. “If you had ruined my hat, I would’ve kicked you off the roof.”

“You mean you would have tried?”

“You are such an jerk.” Lloyd circled with him again. Kai shrugged innocently, a smirk settled on his lips.

“You’re such an jerk, sensei.”

Lloyd just narrowed his eyes and shifted his grip.

The shift warned Kai of the next attack, even as Lloyd swung the staff fiercely. The swing blind sighted him to the elbow that Lloyd snapped forward—Kai barely managed to dodge by leaning backwards, but the elbow caught the brim of his own hat and it tipped upwards. Kai locked their bo-staffs together, then leveraged his to pry Lloyd’s from his hand—he skidded backwards as it thumped into the gravel.

Kai pulled his hat back down to his eyebrows. He conceded. “Alright, yeah, I deserved that.”

Lloyd gave him a cheeky smile and scooped his bo-staff back up.

It only took a few more crosses of their staffs before a small burst of green sparks exploded between them. It sent a concussive shockwave out from the point of impact—both of them were blown backwards. Lloyd’s staff flew from his hands and he landed hard, his back slamming into the concrete barrier at the edge of the roof.

Kai planted his feet, but they drug through the gravel, and he thrust the bo-staff into the ground in front of him for it to add to the drag. He slowed as his back heel approached the barrier.

Both of their hats had been firmly blown from their heads, this time, the force making his throat ache where the string held tight. His own black haori had blown down his shoulders with the force.

He dropped the bo-staff. “Lloyd?!”

It took three long strides before he was by the boy’s side—but Lloyd was fully aware and trying to push himself up already. His eyes were large and sparkling with satisfaction, a grin growing on his face. Kai grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet.

“You okay?” Kai kept a hold of him, pulling him around. “Are you hurt?”

“That was me,” Lloyd exhaled. “That was me, wasn’t it?! I did that! Kai, was that me?!”

He didn’t seem to be hurt, other than the harried state of his golden curls. Kai sighed, the sigh turning into a breathy laugh at his enthusiasm. “Yeah, pretty sure that was you. How did you do it?”

“I have no idea!” Lloyd grinned. “But it was me! WHOOO!”

“Don’t get too excited.” Kai shook his head, but his own grin remained. “Let’s see if you can do it again.”

Kai wasn’t blind. He’d seen the green. He kept seeing the green and green and green. But his denial deep. It can’t be, he repeated to himself over and over. It’s Lloyd, so it just can’t be.

After Lloyd had properly exhausted himself, both of them finding that he was unable to do it again, Kai directed him to slip his bo-staff away and raise his mask up again. Lloyd didn’t think to question it as he followed Kai to the edge of the rooftop. Kai swung his legs around to sit on the lip of it, hooking his ankles together and taking a long breath.

Lloyd curiously followed suit, kicking his legs a bit under him. He peered from beneath his hat, but asked no questions. Beneath them, the city street was alive in the middle of the day, a few more traditional motored-cars among the hovervehicles. A boy passed, pedaling away on his bike with groceries hanging on both of his handlebars. He stood up on the pedals to pick up speed, Lloyd following his path with his head. On the other side of the street, a pair of woman seemed to be waiting before the steps of their building. Soon enough, a hovertaxi pulled up to them.

“Do you know where we are?” Kai asked.

Lloyd glanced around. He was far too new to the city to be able to identify areas by the way they looked—but Kai could tell from the middling-sized buildings, everything a bit older than the west districts, but more well-kept than the east.

Lloyd shook his head. “No…should I?”

Kai huffed, waving him away. “Crowns District, Inno Region. Sun, and all, this time.”

“…Oh.” Lloyd’s shoulders hunched a bit. He looked over the skyline with a new, guilty, light. “…It looks a lot different from up here.”

“Mhm,” Kai agreed.

Their rooftop was a bit more than ten stories, made of red brick, the sidewalk below greyed and stained. Some of the windows had plants outside of them, some with decorative flags hung from within—all up to imperial standards, of course. A block of apartment buildings. Far below where they sat, doors opened, a bell ringing.

He and Lloyd glanced down below when voices began to float up. They were too far to be clear, but Lloyd twitched—seeming to recognize at least one of them.

Below, a group of six teenagers emerged, chatting among themselves casually. One carried a skateboard—a girl was pulling her hair into a pony tail. A boy with glasses held the free hand of a girl who had her arm in a sling, cased in white, but her fingers were revealed hanging out of it. And, among them, was a nineteen-year-old who lived with his mother within the apartment building they sat on top of—sun-darkened skin, freckles, and shiny raven hair. The boy was smiling.

Lloyd lurched forward, barely catching himself before flinging off the rooftop. He breathed in shock, “Brad?”

Kai hummed in confirmation. Lloyd glanced up at him, wide-eyed. Kai quirked a brow at him.

Lloyd looked back down. “Tommy, Gene…that can’t be…is that Marla? But her hand…I saw…”

“She got to the hospital in time for it to be reattached,” Kai told him. “I pulled her medical records. She’s expected to regain most motor function.”

Kai didn’t tell him that her hand wasn’t expected to be able to feel sensations and textures any longer. Unnecessarily cruel and all.

“Thank the Master,” Lloyd said, squeezing his eyes shut. His breathing came out a bit shaky.

“She’s lucky.” Kai flicked lint from his pants.

Lloyd looked up at him. Back down to Brad—then to Kai. The emotions in his eyes were so torn. There was guilt, regret, fear of rejection, but also hope…longing. “…Can I…Can I talk to him? I just want to say that I’m sorry. I just…want him to know.”

His eyes were wide and vulnerable. The teenagers began to walk down the street, some of them throwing arms around one another. One of them threw their head back to laugh. They were carefree and happy, just the way they were.

Kai sighed. “No. I’m sorry. We can’t risk anyone knowing we’re out here. Maybe one day you’ll have a chance. But, if it makes you feel any better…I’m sure he already knows.”

-

Meanwhile, Kai’s wounds healed up and his investigations with Skylor, General Tox, and General Ash continued. The more rebels they interrogated, the more it became clear that the rebellion was planning on making a big move soon enough. With Lloyd’s coronation over the horizon, it didn’t take a genius to know what the target was to be. The celebration, or the boy himself, would undoubtedly be used for a show of terrorism. But it would only happen over Kai’s dead body.

Every moment that he was not with Lloyd, he was working in the city. There were few times for breaks, for rest, for reconsidering. It was simply go and go and go. They bounced from one tip to the next, some leading to short investigations, some leading nowhere at all. They heard more whispers of the Green Ninja, which Kai tried his best to ignore. Morro, from his reports, had found next to nothing on the Sage of the Bamboo Forest. He still seemed unconvinced that the rebel leader was any more than a story. But Kai knew better.

The Sage hadn’t been around when Kai had known the rebellion best. But he had a very good idea of who it could be. An ancient elder, who inspired endless hope, who held strength that countered so many. The only piece that did not fit was the Sage’s role as an ultimate leader of the resistance—but that is where Kai thought the stories failed. The man in his memories had never been interested in leading so many—but he had certainly been interested in leading the most powerful he could get his gnarly old hands on.

As a result, Kai didn’t exactly return home often. His eyebags became permanent. Some nights he got no sleep at all and he desperately depended on caffeinated tea to keep himself going.

The one to ground him was the person it often ended up being.

“Hey,” Skylor leaned over the couch. “How would you feel about noodles?”

Kai lifted the hand he’d been massaging his temples with. A weary smirk played on his lips. “Is that the only thing you know how to cook?”

“Maybe.” Her hair had been released from it’s cage of a military hairdo and now fell around her face as she leaned over, messy and filled with specks of hair spray. She challenged him with a sharp brow. “You got a problem with that?”

He huffed, closing his eyes and using both hands to dig his fingers through his hair. It was wet and undone after his shower. It was getting long, he only realized when it wasn’t gelled back. “You made noodles last night and the last time you cooked, and also the time before that.”

She puffed, crossing her arms and leaning on them. Kai crossed his ankles down the length of the couch. “Yeah, well, you know my father only taught me two things—how to fight and how to make noodles. I don’t know what to tell you.”

Kai smiled softly. He squinted his eyes open.

Her penthouse apartment was high above Ninjago City, in the Capitol Region, of course. Only the best of the best for a general of the empire. When it came to luxury, that was. Her living room was wide and tall, windows lining the space with long curtains that were pulled to the edges of the room. Her couch was lengthy and modern, the leather cushions white and crisp. The carpet below was shag—no specs of dirt—and the open kitchen behind the marble countertop was gorgeous and undoubtably worth more than the house Kai had grown up in. Lights hung over it, convoluted glass shapes. There were a few dishes left in the sink—a clock on the wall next to an artistic piece told him it was almost two in the morning.

Kai didn’t know why on earth she’d have such a fancy kitchen if all she ever made was goddamn ramen bowls. But he’d forgive her because she let him use the kitchen to cook, too.

It was only ever at her place that he cooked. Servants handled it in Shadowspire, or he was given quick meals by the military posts. But way back when…a million years ago, it felt like, a different lifetime…he’d liked cooking. He’d cooked with his friend, the only one who could be trusted not to burn the kitchen down. His friend had made the best food, too. It was like it had been hardwired into him how to make a delicious meal. Sometimes Kai had spiced it up a little, just for his own tastes, but he could never compare to his friend as a chef.

No, he reminded himself. Don’t go there.

“I’ll cook,” he offered, despite how dead tired he felt. “Your fridge is fair game, right?”

“I mean, I won’t complain—you sure, though? I can order something. Not sure who’s open at this hour, but…”

“It’s okay,” he exhaled, reaching up to play briefly with her curtain of hair. “I’ll make something easy. It won’t be noodles, sorry to disappoint.”

“Oh, First Master, I can’t believe this!” she groaned, letting her head fall onto her arms. Kai chuckled and took the invitation to run his deft fingers across her scalp. Her voice was muffled. “I’m going to have to kick you out for even suggesting that.”

“Yeah, yeah, kick me out tomorrow,” Kai murmured. “Go shower. I’ll finish by the time you’re done. Probably.”

She hummed and let him run his hand through her hair roots for a few more moments before she bemoaned her responsibility to shower and pulled herself upright. She was still half in her gi and felt way too professional for Kai, who was in sweatpants and a T-shirt with his wet hair beginning to shag.

He found himself having a hard time getting off the couch, too, even after she’d left for the bathroom. It was just so peaceful there. There was the gentle ambiance of the air conditioning, the quiet of the city, lights dotting the world outside. The moon was bright and shining, and the light behind the glass modernism art created a beautiful mosaic of white and yellow light across the floor.

Everywhere else, he had to be worried, on the alert, ready for anything. At Skylor’s…he could almost fool himself into believing that he was just a man. And, on their best days, they could fool themselves into thinking they were both just people who could have something.

When he heard the shower turn on in the other room, he managed to push himself up.

The water of the sink was cold under his fingers. He turned the water to warm and waited, holding a towelette. Wiping down the counter was methodical, and so was pulling up a pan and finding some spices in her cabinet. He opened the fridge—there wasn’t much he could make in twenty or so minutes, but she had leftover rice in a big container, and fried rice was rarely difficult.

He dug through her leftovers for some steak and veggies, throwing it all in a frying pan, along with some quickly-chopped garlic, a sprinkle black pepper, and two types of soy sauce that she for some reason had that he honestly didn’t know the differences between. Some sesame seeds added an extra pizazz that he would only use to impress her.

His hand looked out of place around the wood of the stirring spoon. Nicked with scars, his last two fingers uneven from too many breaks, and the skin over his knuckles as thick and calloused as the inside of his hand. It pulled it from the illusion of normalcy.

To distract himself from the consuming silence that drew his eye, he began to hum. He tapped on the marble countertop in time with an imaginary beat.

The door to the other room opened. Skylor walked out still adjusting the towel wrapped around her head, hiding most of her hair, but for the slim pieces that were sticking to the skin of her forehead and cheek. She looked about as tired as he did from days of non-stop, but they were adjusting to the strange hours. She wore short bed shorts and a tank top with thin straps that revealed the sinewy muscles of her back. Her biceps flexed as she wrapped the towel tighter.

She sighed at the smell of food, wandering passed the counter and into the kitchen to pull open the cabinets. “Nothing is sexier than when you’re making me food, just so you know.”

“What?” He lazily gasped in offense, side-eyeing her. “I thought it was the helmet with the spikes and the menacing shoulder pads.”

“Oh, please,” she complained, putting out two bowls and setting some chopsticks aside. “If you ever try to seduce me while wearing that thing, I might have to turn traitor and let Garmadon kill me.”

He huffed, turning off the stove. Everything from the pristine ceramics to the too-fancy chopsticks were expensive. Kai dumped the fried rice evenly, the food smelling simply divine after the long day they’d had. A long day of nothing—again.

But that was for later-Kai to worry about.

He sat at the stool next her her, their backs to the gorgeous view of the city over the living room. Their shoulders bumped together occasionally, their movements languid and unhurried, words soft and quiet, sleepy, almost. Domestic. Kai…longed. Longed for the world to let them be, to let him have it and let it be real.

Skylor gestured behind them with her chopsticks. “Hey, can you…?”

He flicked a hand up, chewing his mouthful of rice and veggies while he leaned against the counter with the other arm. The slick electric fireplace that ran across the wall opposite of the couch began to crackle, the flames relaxed and contained behind a thin layer of glass.

“Thanks,” she sighed. “Burnt myself out by holding on too long again. At least I think I’m extending my times, borrowing your fire so often.”

“Nice,” he commented, mouth still full. His voice was muffled.

“Mhm,” she agreed, taking a bite. “Remember when I couldn’t even hold one element for an hour? That seems so embarrassing now.”

“Still kicked my ass,” Kai recalled. “You were the best fighter I’d ever seen in the empire.”

“Am I not still?”

He pursed his lips and made the so-so motion. “Eh, I don’t know, I might be better at this point.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that.” She bumped his shoulder, shoving him a bit. He chuckled, but scooped up more rice. “It’s been a while, though, huh?”

“…Yeah, I guess it has. It feels like we were just kids. Lloyd’s almost as old as we were, then.”

She cracked a smile. “He’s growing up. How are your field trips with him going?”

“Good.” Kai smiled tiredly down at his rice. “Good. He’s…happy. He loves the world. Doesn’t know how…shit it is, yet.”

“…Some things you have to learn the hard way, Sho,” Skylor reminded him. “Even Lloyd. You can’t protect him forever.”

“I know, trust me, I know. But…we never got to…I don’t know. If we never got to be happy, it had to go somewhere, right? So why can’t it just…be him?”

“The world isn’t fair.”

“No. It isn’t.”

They ate in silence.

Skylor took their dishes and Kai didn’t complain. She scrubbed some half-heartedly before dumping them into her too-rich dish washer. While the water was running, Kai unwound the towel from her hair and tossed it over the side of the couch. He sighed, crowding behind her to run his hands under her wet hair, dragging his fingers across her scalp once more. She sighed and tilted her head back while dealing with their leftover mess.

After they finished with the kitchen, she asked to check on his wounds. “How are they healing up?”

He shrugged. The movement no longer ached more than a dull feeling. “The physician said I’m almost back to one hundred percent.”

He sat back down on her couch, the fire crackling, and he pulled his shirt up over his shoulders. For the first time in many days, it didn’t make him grit his teeth or wince outright. The skin was still tender, but the stitching had been plucked, and he was given the mostly-clear.

“No more bandages?” Skylor asked quietly.

Her gentle fingers prodded against ridges of skin that had healed mangled. His body didn’t flinch. No doubt his back looked even more of a mess than it had been before. At least it hadn’t been waterboarding.

“No bandages,” Kai agreed. “I’m alright.”

“Hm,” her hands trailed down his back and his sides, before wrapping around his bare stomach. Her warm lips spoke against the nape of his neck. “I’m glad.”

He snorted softly. “You know you don’t need to worry about me.”

Her thumbs stroked across the ridges of scarring and muscle on his stomach and she kissed the arch of his shoulder. She murmured, “I know.”

Goosebumps rose on his arms when her lips brushed against the tender scarring over his shoulder blades. It was ugly, he knew, but he also knew she wasn’t one to mention it—not when the marks on her body left it as mangled-looking as Kai’s own. She could let him pretend, for a moment, that maybe they were beautiful.

He twisted around, cupping her cheek to pull her face to to his level, capturing her lips in his. Her hands trailed up his arms and wrapped around his neck. They kissed once, twice, more desperate, and fluttering warmth filled Kai’s gut. He pressed harder into her, exploring her mouth with his tongue. She made a noise of approval, shifting herself across his lap and wrapping his waist with her legs.

His hands ran from her strong thighs, up her sides, and over the tight material over her back—his fingers slipped under the thin straps, tracing over the ridges of scars oh-so-similar to the ones that she’d worshiped on him. Her fingers dug into his hair, still damp at the roots, sharp finger nails gliding over his scalp as their tongues pressed and their teeth clacked together in a vain attempt to distract themselves enough to forget it all.

Her ankles hooked behind him and his fingers sunk into the soft flesh between tough muscle. Her arms tightened around his neck, pulling him down, her fingers carding through his hair. His mouth wandered from hers, finding the angle of her jaw with an open-mouthed kiss, then the hollow of her throat, where he closed his lips and swirled his tongue. She groaned in approval.

He slipped his hands down and under her ass before abruptly standing, lifting her along with him, barely pausing to find a spot lower on her throat to devote himself to, her limbs pulling closer and her hair falling around their faces as her angle got higher.

She tugged at his hair, urging his head back up to hers, and she kissed him hard and messy. They both panted already between demanding attention, her humming and smiling into his lips as he carried her to her bedroom and—

He abruptly stopped returning her advances, leaning back from her enticing lips and looking around her shoulder. “What the hell is that?”

She leaned back, arms loosening around his neck, breathing hard. “What?”

She glanced back.

On her king-sized, posh bed of silk sheets, in a room of atmospheric burnt orange mood lighting—a cat was curled up near the foot of the bed. It had a white cone on, a bandaged front paw, and it was covered in thinning striped fur.

“Oh, uh,” Skylor shrugged, elbows on his shoulders. “I haven’t gotten around to naming her, yet.”

“I told you to get rid of it, you didn’t have to bring it home.”

“No, you said deal with it.” She leaned in close to his frown, a still-seductive smirk on her face. “I dealt with it.”

He huffed and abruptly dropped her. She landed on her feet easily enough, despite pouting at her abandonment. Kai wasn’t happy about it either, frustrated by his own arousal, but there was an elderly cat with medical issues in the place he’d been planning on using.

“I meant toss it in an alley or something,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“No you didn’t, you would have just done it yourself.” She rolled her eyes, grabbing onto the front of his shirt and attempting to pull him down to her. When he didn’t budge, she groaned. “Would you just kiss me already?”

“We are not fucking with a cat in the room.”

“What, are you shy now?”

He glowered at her.

“Fine, fine, you’re right.” She let him go with a puff and turned to the bed. “That would probably be weird. I’m new to the pet thing.”

“Why did you even keep it?” He asked, crossing his arms. “You’re a bit busy for an animal, aren’t you?”

Skylor ran a hand over the mangy fur and the cat raised it’s head, opening it’s eyes a slit with a curious purr. The woman lifted it carefully, pulling it to her chest and the cat was more than happy to be carried around, it’s lame foot hanging beneath it.

“Her feeding bowls are automatic, and the vet said she’s pretty independent in a house,” she said, brushing passed Kai with her full arms. “Litter trained and all. I just thought…well, she’s old, and she doesn’t have much more of a life. I figured I could give her gourmet foods and a nice view on the way out. Not like I get to use this place for myself very often, with how much we work in the field.”

Skylor nudged the door to the living room open with a foot. She crouched, gingerly setting the cat down on the floor. It managed to wake itself up enough to stand on three feet, the other held up loosely. The cat gazed up at Skylor, blearily annoyed to be moved, as Skylor stood up.

Kai had rarely seen her so gentle with anything. If Skylor was anything, it was a force of nature, contained under strict military code. It didn’t leave much room for gentleness in either of them, even during their time together.

“She’d just die alone in some shelter,” Skylor shrugged. “And it’s hardly a hassle. So…why not, right?”

Kai watched the cat limp across the shag carpet, shaking it’s head with annoyance under the cone. It jumped up onto the leather couch, kneaded at a pillow, then curled back up. “…Sure.”

“Great.” She firmly closed the door. This time, Kai let her pull him down and his hands fell back down to her hips. She brushed their noses together, arms snaking around his neck. “Now, where were we?”

-

His next problem soon made itself known.

Lloyd began to get sick following their trips into the city. At first, it was nothing much. A headache here, some nausea there. Things Kai could blame on power overuse or flying vertigo or a small stomach bug. But every time they came back, it got a little worse. And a little worse. And a little worse. And him getting sick just happen to coincide with the way his eyes lost their green glow by the time they landed back down in Shadowspire.

The red eyes felt like less of a burden to see, but watching Lloyd vomit into a bucket that stayed beside his bed was not easy. The chamberlain began to chastise Kai harshly every time they emerged from the Dragon’s Keep and Lloyd was worse than the last time.

“What are you doing to that boy?!” The chamberlain eventually demanded. “Just when he begins to recover, you and he lock yourselves in that damned place and he is unwell again, worse than before, even! If this keeps up, I will have no choice but to inform his father!”

The emperor had yet to notice, Lloyd’s body usually recovering in time for supper with His Majesty. But he would certainly suspect all kinds of treachery if he were to be informed. That aside, Kai was getting nervous about how sick Lloyd would become if they kept up on the trips.

“You may be right,” Kai sighed. “This is getting out of hand.”

“No, he is not right!” Lloyd argued. He sat on his bed, skin whiter than ever. His eyes were sunken where they’d been glowing with heath just a few hours ago among the rooftops of Ninjago City. He clutched his sick bucket. “Chamberlain, you will not tell my father. I am perfectly fine. It’s just a little—”

His body heaved. He leaned over the bucket, his grip on it white-knuckled.

Doctor Eun-ji gave Kai a baleful look, sitting at the edge of Lloyd’s bed. The physician had a hand on Lloyd’s shoulder, but used his other hand to make a mocking gesture. “‘I am perfectly fine,’ he claims, when he is so clearly not. I wonder where he got that habit from.”

Kai gave the old man a weary glare. His arms were crossed over the bed.

“I am fine,” Lloyd insisted. “It’s just a bit of nausea. Chamberlain, you cannot tell my father. The truth is—Please, understand. The truth is that my powers came in and Kai has been helping me develop them.”

Oh—don’t fucking tell them that, kid! Kai grimaced, even before Chamberlain Noble’s head whipped up toward him. The man was getting so old, Kai was dimly afraid that he may break his own neck moving to so quickly.

The advisor’s glare was absolutely deadly. Kai reconsidered how much of a threat he saw in the man, after all.

“You…That is forbidden,” the man hissed through his grinding teeth, eyes alight with fire toward Kai. “You are perfectly aware that the boy was never to be trained. You would dare go against the emperor’s wishes for his own son?! You have truly gone too far, this time!”

“All I have ever done is what I believed to be best for the prince, including this.” Kai threw a hand out toward the sickly-looking boy. “I want him to be able to defend himself!”

“Do you see, now, that the emperor forbade such training for a reason?!” the chamberlain shot back, pointing at the bucket. “Did you not think that the emperor would only command his son to be helpless if was for his own protection?! His supposed powers are doing this to him!”

“We don’t know that.”

“I see no other explanation! Unless you are keeping something more from me?!”

Kai snarled at him. The old man glared back resolutely, despite how small he was in the face of Kai’s stature. He had always been steadfast and stubborn when it came to Lloyd.

He wouldn’t tell the emperor about Lloyd’s training for the boy’s own sake—and, honestly, perhaps for Kai’s sake, as well. For all of his harsh words, the old man cared somewhere deep down, not that he’d shown it since Kai had been years younger. But Kai was also wary that if he were to know Kai was taking him into the city, he might as well cave under all of the secrets and inform Garmadon.

So he couldn’t tell the chamberlain that he didn’t think Lloyd’s powers were what was making him sick. It was when his powers disappeared. And they only seemed to do so when they returned home to Shadowspire.

“Both of you, calm yourselves, or I'll have you removed from the prince’s chambers,” Doctor Eun-ji scolded the two of them, scowling their way while patting Lloyd’s back—the kid was vomiting again. “He is my patient at the moment, and I will not have arguments above sick patients.”

Chamberlain Noble bowed his head. Kai squeezed his crossed arms, but huffed.

“Alright,” Kai begrudgingly relented. “I see your wisdom, chamberlain. Your Highness…no more visits to the Keep until I find out what is making you so unwell.”

Lloyd looked hurt. Kai couldn’t imagine how painful an idea it was to lose the city after he’d only just discovered it. “But—!”

Kai held a hand up. “There will be no discussion. I will not risk your health any further. Your coronation is only a week away and we cannot have you in bed for your own parade.”

A week, and you’ll get back to the city anyway. Just hold out a week, Kai’s eyes implored.

Lloyd closed his mouth, pressing it into a thin, upset line. But he nodded, pouting over the bucket of sick.

-

“This is where he stood?” The Shogun rumbled.

The trooper with the glasses behind the screen nodded nervously. “Y-Yes, milord, sir. The one who called himself Kazuki was in the center of the scanning system when our equipment malfunctioned.”

Kai stood in the spot outlined with painted yellow feet on the metal plate. He could imagine the damage around him—the bent scanning arm, the computer screens that had fallen away, the shattered projectors. His gaze swung around…he thought.

Kai was fairly certain that the damage that day had been Lloyd dipping into his powers. They’d quickly learned that his powers were quite combustive and it was difficult for Lloyd to tap into them—but bursts of emotion always had a good chance of bringing them to light. Especially feelings such as anxiety or fear. It was a defense mechanism for any inherently magical being. But the question was why here? Why in the city, why in this spot, but not within the prince’s home?

Kai looked up. Above him was the wide threshold of the open gates, and he knew that troopers were stationed just above on the walkway. It blocked his view up the cliffsides of the Pass, but…hm.

“Captain,” Kai suddenly said. “Would you say that I am still within the Veil where I stand?”

Captain Hutchins stood just outside the gates, in the sunshine of the day, his boots crunching down the green grasses. His imperial guards were corralling the lines on both sides of the gate, preventing people from entering and exiting the valley while Kai conducted his investigation.

Captain Hutchins squinted under his helm. “I would consider the area of the gates to still be a part of Shadowspire, but…I suppose that they extend outside of the cliffs of the Pass. If you are judging the area by the mountains, then technically, you are outside of them.”

Kai hummed. “As I thought.”

Captain Hutchins’ curious side-eye burrowed into him. Why is that important? his gaze asked. Kai shook his head. No reason at all.

Kai stood a step to the side and leaned out the opposite side of the gate, gaze up toward the sky of the Veil. The emperor’s dark clouds of oni magic hung as low and as thick as ever among the peaks, sealing the valley away. He took steps toward the other side—a bright blue sky with layers of picturesque clouds.

Technically, indeed.

-

Finally, there was Morro’s investigation. Kai and the general found a shaky ground for the two of them to discuss on without threatening each other every moment, though there were a few close calls during which Kai nearly set the man’s head aflame. They hadn’t talked so civilly in years.

It helped that Morro had at last, although begrudgingly, accepted that the Sage of the Bamboo Forest was not just a figment of the rebellion’s imagination. It took many shreds of evidence that he had to find and put together himself, but he believed it. He had to concede that Kai was right and the show of humility was enough for Kai to go from outright aggressive to warily stewing in his dislike of the man.

In the quiet of the meeting room, both of them with their arms crossed, deep in thought, Morro spoke lowly.

“You believe he is the Sage. Do you not?”

Kai’s eyes flickered over to him. “…I believe there is a possibility. The motif would fit with his inflated opinion of his own wisdom.”

“Perhaps,” Morro put his chin in his hand. “But Wu was not one to bring attention to himself. Though it has been twenty years since I was in his presence, I find it hard to believe a being such as him changes much with the passing of time. The possibility is there, I suppose…”

Kai grunted, leaning against the wall in his armor and helm. Morro’s deep hood hid his face from sight in his contemplation, despite the privacy of the room.

“You knew him more recently than I,” Morro stated. “Do you truly believe that it could be him or are you searching for a chance at revenge?”

Kai scowled under his mask, eyes tightening. “More petty jabs, general? I thought we’d agreed to move on from our childishness.”

To his credit, Morro’s tone was even and matter-of-fact, not as slimy as he so often was. “I am asking a genuine question. I would love nothing more than to find him and wring his neck myself for what he did to me, long before he moved on to you. But I do not want an opinion of yours based on blind anger. So I ask again: Do you truly believe he could be the leader of the larger Resistance?”

Kai glanced off to the side. Did he?

No. That answer was easy. That elderly man had never been after kingdoms or people or armies to follow him. All he’d been after was control over those who walked the earth with primordial grace. Kai could only assume it was to regain some semblance of control in a world where the mortals were dominated by a force he did not dare reckon with directly.

That was almost the reason that Kai hated him. More than Garmadon or his parents or all of the horrible, disgusting people that filled the miserable world. But no—the real reason…was that the elderly man was so good at manipulating those around him, convincing them to to fight and fight and fight forever, and in the end, not having any qualms about asking those who fall for his lies to die for him. He was Garmadon’s mirror—but the emperor, at least, did not string anyone along like a pig following the stick. Both were evil—but only one played at being pure and benevolent.

So, he said, “No. He has reaped and used groups of elemental masters since the rise of the empire to further his goals. A creature of habit does not change. He’s certainly among the ninja I am hunting. The Sage must be someone else.”

Morro’s hood bobbed up and down. “I agree. I will continue my investigation. I can sense something drawing near in the future. I cannot see what…but it is dark and it is looming. Perhaps a delay of the prince’s coronation would not be—”

“No delays. We cannot afford to show weakness. The peoples’ trust in the empire has become more unstable than ever and the economy is struggling to compensate for the lack of resources following the camp shut-downs. The crowning of a new successor will give hope to those unsatisfied with the emperor’s rule.”

“Depending on that to prevent more riots and protests is reckless. None of us have any idea how the public will react. They will more likely despise the spoiled brat and the promise of the empire’s perseverance even in the event of the emperor’s…disposition. You’re grasping at straws.”

“What else would you have me do?” Kai asked bitterly. “With Kurogane’s seat remaining empty, the politicians are at each other’s throats. There have been three assassinations within the upper chambers of the government already, and I am sure there have been more attempts that have been foiled. Governor Hikaru has accused Governor Raiden of treason and they will soon force my attention. I am shocked Clouse has survived as long as he has. With the political unrest, none of the issues of wheat and rice shortages have been handled, and production of imperial assets as well as civilian companies dependent on Camp Tetsu have been forced to halt. So, tell me—how, exactly, would delaying the coronation inspire confidence in the empire’s ability?”

“None of it will matter if the rebels are not dealt with in time,” Morro growled, splaying a hand out. “Riots can be put down, protests and strikes can be properly managed, if that is what comes of all this. But the organization of the Resistance Against the Empire is the most dangerous threat this empire has faced since it’s founding. They could bring the entire empire down if they knew where to target. You are well aware of this! We may have our differences, but I always believed that I could depend on your judgement when it came to matters of security—you have never been swayed by the state of politics, unlike some. Why is this different? Why are you acting the stubborn fool for a royal coronation, of all things?”

“It is our emperor’s will,” Kai glared coldly.

“You have argued on behalf of security matters before, and I know that the emperor has headed your advice in the past,” Morro pointed. “I have grown weary of that excuse.”

“Think no further of it.” Morro’s hand curled into a fist on the table. “I appreciate your attempt at counsel, but you have your own assignment to concern yourself with. Find me the Sage—the other generals and I will ensure everything else is handled. We will not need a delay. The rebellion may be strong, but they will never be strong enough to overcome the will of the empire.”

The air felt tight in the room, dense, but still cold. Kai’s mask filtered out any differences in the air so that it was no more difficult for him to breathe, but Morro’s intent were still there.

“…I hope you are right, commander,” Morro said, distaste in his tone. “For all of our sakes, and for the prince’s.”

-

Six days before the prince’s eighteenth birthday. Gongjang District. Late morning—almost ten o’clock. Layers of grey hung at different heights above the city, the only reassurance that the sun still rose being the vague white glow of the sky. The overcast day would not lead to rain, but the threat was enough for Ninjagoans to be carrying umbrellas, ready to trudge through their day’s work regardless of the weather. Down in Gongjang, it was never a question of whether or not anything would be canceled. Even if it were raining lava rather than water, employees would still be expected to arrive to work ten minutes early. Most of those in the district during the day lived elsewhere, but they flocked to the factories and disrepaired blocks of warehouses in a sad attempt to risk their lives for minimum wage.

It was, honestly, a miracle when any of the factories were in full working conditions. Not simply due to poor infrastructure, rather due to the fact that the laborers down in Gongjang were on strike more often than they were getting a paycheck.

The warehouse that he faced now was clearly one that had fallen under those strikes. Graffiti made the outer walls unrecognizable with old messages of blame and hate, the paint so old that it was chipping away, leaving dry piles of red flakes to pile up at the angle of the wall. He craned his neck back—the wall was large, the warehouse wide, but none of the windows had been broken. Strange. It wasn’t impossible—the abandoned, haunting buildings that lined the block on either side of the warehouse were mostly in single pieces, but there were still the occasional hole in the frames.

Upon closer inspection, the windows of this warehouse were blacked out—painted from the inside. They would look completely unsuspicious at night, and nothing special in the daytime.

He’d been informed of the details. No electricity, nor gas, ran into the building from any of their connected plants. There was no one around enough to identify whether or not any strange noises came from the warehouse. The usual informants had been ordered to simply report anything suspicious rather than take their time to spy, as the Shogun’s generals were in a rush to handle this situation themselves.

Nothing made it different from any other tip they’d followed up on. In fact, it was a relatively poor tip, with no suspicious characters attached. It was only a location.

Kai gestured silently and Skylor slunk around the side. They had no idea if there was anyone inside, but it was safe to assume there was. They didn’t have the element of surprise—Kai glanced up at Dreadmaw, who loomed across the street—but they didn’t need it.

The dragon waited on the street obediently, prepared to roast anyone who attempted escape, while Kai went inside. There was a chained padlock between the bars of the front—they melted away without him even having to touch them, the metal bars of the door disfiguring inward. He shoved the doors open with one hand—they flew back and slammed into the wall behind, the metallic CLANG-CLANG echoing throughout the warehouse.

Inside was a scene pulled from Kai’s deepest nightmares—or his most yearnful dreams. And he learned, in that moment, that he was unprepared for the confrontation that he’d been so hoping for.

Half the room, a set up of mats and muk jong dummies for intensive martial arts training were set up, pristine and well-taken care of. The other half, an engineer’s playground, with tools ranging from welder’s torches, to car jacks, to circular saws, to piles and boxes and shelves of nuts and bolts and screwdrivers. Discarded or stolen mismatched metal, clearly brought in to reuse, sat in a pile at one end of the warehouse. Half the skeleton of a motorbike sat on a stand in the center of the area.

This was all illuminated by the grey light that came in with Kai’s entrance. The doors folded him into darkness not a moment later.

He reached out with his senses—there was something. Something faint, as if it had already come and gone. But there was no one in the warehouse.

He raised a hand, numbly lighting a fire in the palm of his glove. He found a wide lever and wrapped his other hand around it, cranking it up until it locked into place with a thunk.

The sound of a generator sputtered and coughed before beginning to chug along. The warehouse hummed with the sound of electrics and piping coming to life. From the lever, lines of blue and white fairy lights began to light up. The lights trailed across the edges of the lived-in area, hanging across some of the chains above, drooping over the training mats. They revealed, in the corner of the room, some piles of what seemed to be blankets.

The lights continued, running up the arms of a metal staircase that led up to an office space, ringed with a catwalk. The dark windows of the office were deep and foreboding, giving away nothing. Had Kai not been able to sense the fact that was empty, he’d be wary of any threats hiding in wait. He supposed that a handful of mortals could be holed up—but this was not the rebel hold-out of a few mortals.

He picked across the area of metal-scrap to the piles of blankets.

Four bedrolls. Some half-rolled, then hastily abandoned. Color-coded. It shouldn’t have mattered what color they were, but Kai noticed. Four.

He folded his fingers into a fist to keep his rage steady. They’d been easy to replace, hadn’t they, old man? White, black, royal blue, cyan—their colors. He’d given away their colors. There was, at least, no red. What, had the old man decided that Kai had been so worthless in the end that he would not even curse his new students with his color?

Did the replacements wear their old gi, too? Had the old man pulled the gi from their old packs before giving them away, or had he let his new students pull them out themselves? Would one of them carry his sister’s old backpack, the one that she stitched her initials in to? Did the old man even remember the difference between any of the elementals he’d killed at this point? Kai couldn’t recall if the man had ever even bothered to call him by his name.

He gritted his teeth, turning his back on the abandoned pillows. The bedrolls were still there—he had always been trained to take the bedrolls first. Either the old man had changed his training, which Kai doubted, or his new students had been rushed to leave.

A door at the back of the warehouse groaned with rusted hinges as it opened. Kai glanced over, but it was just Skylor’s reflective helmet.

“Anything?” She asked.

Kai’s eyes ran across the warehouse, landing on the office. “Yes. They were here.”

She paused in shock. “The ninja?”

“Yes.”

He strode toward the office. After two weeks of nothing, they’d walked directly into their lair.

Skylor called up as he went up the stairway. “How can you be sure? It looks more like a rebel manufacturing depot for weapons or illegal transports.”

“I’m sure.” He opened the door.

Inside, a meeting room. Candles. A coffee brewer. A portable stove.

A small bag sitting on a side table, the one that overlooked the rest of the warehouse. Skylor was picking through and scanning some of the metalworks with her gauntlets. Very old memories were attempting to push themselves to the forefront of his mind. Memories of before Shadowspire, before he’d been on the run, even. Sometimes he thought he’d lost the ability to recall so far back.

Memories of a home. Memories of waking up early in the morning, waking from nightmares, and finding something like comfort. Warm tea, plain at first, but leaving the aftertaste to soak in, every exhale tasting of sweet lavender. Not his favorite tea—he had a black tea preference—but someone else’s. Someone who made tea far more often than any one old man should.

The herbs lay innocently in the pocket-sized brown weave bag. His fingers trembled minutely as he picked it up.

Rage burned up, so hot and true, it made him tremble under his armor. The bag burst into flame in his hand, immediately turning the herbs to ash. They scattered over the desk.

The smoke had the faintest whiff of lavender beyond his mask. He had been here. He and all of his pets.

Kai was going to find them. And when he did—no more. No more doomed, violent attempts to fight back. No more training children for war against a foe that was never their own. No more forcing parents from their home and their children, leaving little boys and little girls to fend for themselves before repeating over their own mother and father’s failures. No more.

“Sho! Come and take a look at this!”

He inhaled, corralling his emotions to keep from burning the office down. There could be evidence anywhere—they should call in a team to search it top to bottom after his and Skylor’s initial investigations. Perhaps, then, they would be able to know which exact elements they were contending with.

Skylor’s visor had slipped up over the head of her helmet, revealing her pinched concentration as she crouched next to the half-built motorbike. It was nearly a finished piece—it was missing wheels, and a good paint job to cover the discolored scraps that made it up, but it had solid shape.

Kai could understand her earlier confusion. But elemental masters were not only skilled in one area, more often than not, he’d found.

“What is it?” He hummed, stepping next to her.

She pointed at a spot under the front chest of the bike, under which the wheel would sit. “This symbol. I swear I’ve seen it before…”

He sighed, glancing toward the front doors, then dropped into a low squat next to her. The skirt of his armor shifted, falling over his legs. He still had to crane his neck at a downwards angle in order to see where she was pointing.

It was not an accident. It was not a leftover mark from the scrap piece. Kai knew the difference. The symbol had been very purposefully pressed into the metal by a blacksmith’s seal. During welding, most likely. Blacksmiths used such seals as a trademark to advertise and retain credit for their work. They were rare to see—after all, the only people still doing their own blacksmithing were those in the Outer Regions, far from the industrialized city.

Kai knew of seals, but he’d spent so much of his life in the Central Plains, he’d only ever seen one.

And on the bike was that seal.

“It’s more than a pretty thing for my work, Kai. It means family—our family. You, me, your mom, and your sister. This means you’re not alone. Because we’re stronger together, right?”

“Yeah! When I’m big as you, I’mma be strong!”

“I think you already are, big man. You carried Nee all day yesterday!” A laugh.

“That’s ‘cause she’s smoll.”

“That’s true. You’re going to have to keep getting stronger if you want to carry her when she’s big. Tell you what—why don’t you help me in the forge? I have a feeling you’ll have a natural talent for it. What do you say?” A hair ruffle.

“YEAH! I wanna help!”

“Whoa, whoa, okay—give me that—uh, maybe let’s start with you bringing me the tools I need, how’s that sound?”

“Okay, papa! Dis one? Dis one? Whaddabout dis one?”

A thumbs up. “Yeah, there. Let’s start with that one. Thanks, big man.”

Within the confines of the circular mold, flames in the shape of a crashing wave climbed the sides.

Kai had never been able to be completely sure whether or not Wu knew what had become of him. It would have been easier to believe that they had all died. Kai’s identity was kept incredibly tight outside of the palace. Wu could most likely only suspect all these years, rather than have any suspicions confirmed. Kai had silently griped with his anger at the possibility that he knew—that Wu had known and had left him to rot to his fate.

But this…this being here, after Kai had been sending so clear a message to the rebels of their inevitable doom…Wu was sending a message right back. He knew exactly who Kai was. And he was mocking him. With his dead family. The family that Wu had lead to their deaths, one after the other.

He was mocking him. He knew Kai had survived and didn’t care. He’d left him to his fate. He’d never fucking cared.

“Yeah. I’ve definitely seen it. It was from our first mission together, a few weeks after my father’s execution. Remember that abandoned smithy? I’d bet that whoever…Sho?”

Kai traced the lines of the symbol, staring at it, his eyes wide and unhinged.

The smell of burning leather filled the air. His glove sizzled, then melted from his hand, catching fire as it hit the ground. His hand, going from mute red, to middling orange, to burning yellow. His fingers sunk into the metal like it was nothing, going right through the family crest. He squeezed his hand into a fist, molten metal disfiguring and slipping from between his fingers. The motorbike skeleton groaned as the proximity to his hand began to warp the rest of it, the entire front of the bike staring to droop down and lose it’s shape.

Then, the carboard that had been spread across the ground around it caught, flames eating across it, slowly rising smoke trapped above them. For a long moment, the destruction was so isolated.

“…Sho…hey,” Skylor lowered her visor. “Come on. We should call in the evidence team.”

“Don’t touch me.”

Her hand froze near his arm. His vocoder prevented her from hearing his tone—and he did not look her way. But she must have known because she pulled back, edging away from him.

“…We need this evidence. It’s been two weeks and this had been our only—”

“Get out.”

The flames jumped to the mats. They took to the sweat and mold festering within them like a dry grass field, racing across them. The air was quickly becoming thick with smoke. Skylor’s visor reflected the flickering sparks.

“This is our only lead—!”

“General.” Kai rose to his feet, molten metal drawling after his clenched fist and dripping from it. It sizzled against the concrete. “Get. Out.”

The voice of his vocoder warped as the mask against his face began to grow soft. It made his voice even less human that it had been before. The black teeth began to lengthen as gravity tugged at the softened metal, the oni sneer slowly dipping down into a scowl, sticking to the arch of his nose and cheekbones.

Skylor clenched her fists, but didn’t have to be told again. The wooden muk jongs abruptly went up, cracks, like lightening hitting, at how abrupt the flames began. The blankets in the back of the room—the bags in the office, the leather gloves within the equipment. The plastic handles of screwdrivers—boxes of iron fillings.

The lights that lined the space began to blow in the heat—crack, crack, crack, crack! Sparks flew with them, glass blown into the room. The structure of the office groaned as the supports beneath it began to lose their shape. The flames consumed every speck of dust across the floor, climbing the walls. The glass nearest Kai exploded, shattering inwards and outwards both. The fire became so high, the smoke so thick, that Kai could no longer make out where the exits were, or hardly where the walls began.

He couldn’t find it in himself to care. He, in fact, wished that he had the ability to abandon his heat resistance so that he could catch fire and burn to death, because a person couldn’t live with the hatred that burned and burned and burned through him, until it began to consume him from the inside out. The cabin of the office finally collapsed down into the larger warehouse with a WHOOOM, sending debris flying—all of them turning to ash or molten liquid one they were within two feet of him, like they were hitting an invisible barrier. The glowing molten debris splattered against his armor.

This time, the flames did not hold him in their comforting embrace—rather he who was a captive by them, and the unending pain they came from—twisting in his chest until the world didn’t seem to matter anymore.

He tried to scream, but the distorted roar that came out of his vocoder was nothing less than monstrous.

-

To work in Shadowspire was considered the greatest honor there was among the loyalists of the empire. Some worked their whole lives for the chance—the chefs in the kitchen could sleep easy, knowing their meals had been judged the greatest in the Realm. The gardeners beyond the walls had been challenged to make the oni-corrupted vegetation look beautiful, and by the First Master, had they somehow succeeded due to their talents. And, of course, the guards were not only the best of the military, but the best of the best.

Takeshi Hutchins was not one of these people. He had not dedicated his life to achieve the honor he had been bestowed. It had not even been a thought across his mind a decade before. He’d had little ambition in life, but to be loyal to his empire and to be good, working at the only imperial post in a southern village as far from the city as one would find. It had not been the village he’d been raised in, but he had been instructed to post there, so he had. Life had been simple. Things had been black and white.

Things within Shadowspire were rarely ever so, as he had learned long before he’d truly arrived. Though, on the surface, the palace itself was calm, the home of the emperor would always be the center of everything in the empire, metaphorically, when not literally. Takeshi was forced to find a new way to understand life following his recruitment, in order to keep up with the myriad of alliances, betrayals, corruptions, and controls. It was true that he regretted many things in life—many, many things—but, in the end of it all, he had never regretted taking the hand that had been offered to him when he’d found himself in hell.

“It won’t be easy,” he’d been warned. “It will never be easy.”

Still, he had taken the hand. The warning had been mostly true—most of Takeshi’s job was stressful, difficult, even while it was straightforward. But some parts of it were allowed to be easy.

It was early in the evening and the royal family were occupied with supper once more. Lady Harumi was not joining them—she had been escorted out of the valley the day before following her unwelcome stay. Her guards had reported multiple instances of her attempting to talk them into or bribing them into giving her freedoms. Any lesser guards would have surely caved under her offers, but luckily, Takeshi had good men. He did not like that she was up to something, but he only knew as much as the Shogun had passed on to him, which was nothing but a suspicion.

She was gone, at least, so he no longer had to be concerned about that security risk. Now, only officials around to discuss the coronation filled the guest wings, though their numbers seemed to double by the day.

Takeshi was growing tired. He set down the holotablet and rubbed his eye under his reading glasses. Reading glasses. Had he really gotten so old? Or perhaps it was just a result of a lifetime’s worth of paperwork in a scant few years. But if he could ease the burden of someone who trusted him so deeply, he could handle a few documents.

A knock came to the door to his office. A muffled voice from behind. “Captain, it’s Lieutenant Cha. I have an urgent message to deliver. May I come in?”

Takeshi pushed his chair out and stood. “You may.”

The door opened and one of Takeshi’s older guards stood there, a small envelope of paper in his hands. His faced was lined with serious wrinkles, mustache greyer than Takeshi’s salt-and-peppered beard.

Takeshi stepped around his desk. “What news is so urgent?”

“I do not know, sir,” the man held up the envelope. Takeshi took it. It was sealed with a prestigious military crest on the back—a message from a grand general. “It was given to me directly by a courier of General Skylor Chen for the Shogun.”

Takeshi frowned. Why would the general not simply send an electronic message? It was must faster. “Thank you, Cha. You are free to return to your post.”

“Of course.” The man nodded, then stepped out of the room.

Takeshi studied the seal with his single eye. He could only assume that a physical message was being sent because the general was concerned that an electronic one would not be secure enough—which could be considered outrageous, considering the empire controlled all flow of information across the internet.

Unless, of course, that was the concern. Takeshi was no fool and he’d grown long used to keeping an eye out for threats from within. But what threat could be high enough to attempt access to some of the most secure communications in the Realm?

Takeshi shook his head. It was not his business unless the Shogun saw fit to involve him.

He took up his helm, slipped it under his arm, and walked out of his office. He needed a break from the paperwork. Besides, he’d been…mildly troubled to hear that the Shogun had returned so early in the night, after weeks of non-stop work in the city, hardly a day stayed in the palace. He hadn’t even greeted the prince when he’d arrived, from what Takeshi understood. That, more than anything, was reason for uneasiness.

He took to the hallway and it was not long before he was joined in his walk by none other than the physician. He wore his heavy medicinal robes of white, the black sui’ie on his head. His long grey hair, braided under the hat and down his back, swayed with his robes as he walked.

“Captain, what a pleasant surprise,” the man greeted. His tone always sounded mildly amused, as if there was a joke that Takeshi was unaware of. “I suppose you’re on your way to visit our esteemed commander as well?”

“I am.” The letter was tucked into his armor. “You must not be delivering another treatment to him? He has been healed completely for more than a week, now.”

“I suppose.” The man smiled, unfolding his hands to reveal another vial of his hanging from his hand. “But he hasn’t seemed to realize that, yet, and I will be taking advantage of the fact. If you hadn’t noticed, the last few weeks have been quite a tense time for the empire and I don’t believe it’s unreasonable of me to assume that the lord commander has had little time to retain his health. These mixes are only to help him along.”

“That would be kind of you, if you were not using trickery to fool him,” Takeshi pointed out dryly.

“Yes, well, if he did not bemoan my every attempt at aid,” Doctor Eun-ji rolled his eyes, folding his arms back together and hiding the vial again. “I would not have to resort to such barbaric methods. But alas, he’s still the foolish boy he’s always been.”

They walked passed a pair of guards, and a servant girl rushed by them, carrying a platter of an iced wine glass and three exquisite silver cups. Takeshi politely shifted aside for her, the physician doing the same.

“Doctor,” Takeshi chastised gruffly, glaring out of the corner of his eye. “We are not in private. Please, do not speak so candidly.”

The physician huffed. “Yes…First Master forbid that anyone is reminded that he is a man and not some creature-spawn of the emperor.”

Takeshi’s disapproving look didn’t seem to humble him. Takeshi sighed and instead attempted to change the subject of conversation. “How fares the prince? Has he recovered from his illness?”

“Yes,” Doctor Eun-ji bobbed his head. “He recovered within the day. I still have not found what was causing his fevers. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you, captain?”

Takeshi resolutely stared forward as they walked, able to feel the stink eye given to him. But the physician’s suspicions were meager compared to the tongue-lashing that the chamberlain had given Takeshi for enabling the Shogun’s actions. Takeshi was only glad that Noble did not know the extent of what he had helped his commander get away with.

“I have far less training in the medicinal arts than you, doctor,” Takeshi said matter-of-factly. “I would not dare give my opinion on His Highness’ condition.”

“Of course you wouldn’t,” the doctor drawled.

The two of them stopped before the humble wooden door.

Takeshi knocked, his metal gloves rapping loudly. “Lord Commander, I have a message from one of your generals. May I enter?”

Takeshi waited. The doctor waited. No answer came.

They glanced at each other warily. Beneath the door, warm light could be seen. He was in there.

Takeshi knocked again. “My lord?”

No response.

Takeshi quickly ran through any possible reason that the Shogun’s return would have been as strange as it was. “Was he injured while in the city?”

“Not as far as I’m aware,” Doctor Eun-ji frowned. “But I suppose we both know how often he informs me of such situations.”

“Commander,” Takeshi called out, louder this time, as he reached for the door knob. “The physician and I are coming in. I apologize in advance for the intrusion.”

Takeshi was put off-ease when there was not even a response to that. The Shogun valued his privacy highly. Takeshi closed his other hand around the hilt of his katana, then pushed the door open. Doctor Eun-ji leaned in over his shoulder, concern on his aged face.

Takeshi felt a shock run through him, but he released the wrap of his blade. The shock was not borne of him witnessing the sight of a gruesome scene.

The hearth was lit with it’s fresh orange flame, the grand desk strewn with the work that Takeshi had been unable to collect when he had taken some of the burden from it. The velvet drapes hugged the warmth of the room, identical scarlet drapes hanging from the posts of the bed. Beneath them, the Shogun lay, half-dressed, curled on his side. The man did not snore, but the relaxed expression on his face and the even rise and fall of his shoulder told Takeshi that he was most definitely asleep.

He still wore the heavy zubon pants and tabi boots that sat under his usual armor, which was haphazardly set aside on it’s proper stand. Some of the metal of it seemed to be disfigured, most notably the mask and helm. It must have been terrifying for anyone in the halls of the palace to see pass by. The man’s torso was bare, revealing the shredded scars to Takeshi and the doctor at his back. His uwagi and under robes were piled on the ground.

The doctor sighed. “Well, if that isn’t a miracle.”

Takeshi shot the man an annoyed look. Still, the physician kindly took Takeshi’s helmet when he nudged it out to him, freeing his hands.

He stepped over to the bed. On it, there was a small metal chest, about the size of a shoe box, that had been unlocked and opened. A few papers remained within—scattered across the bed before the Shogun, there were more of them. Upon closer inspection, a few were photos. One was a photo of a couple that Takeshi did not recognize. A woman with beautiful dark hair that fell over her shoulders like a smooth river and a man with a sharp goatee and short, brown hair like licks of flame. Both were laughing as they held each other, as if in the midst of a dance. Another featured the same couple, the woman holding a bundle in her arms in the background, while the man reached for the viewer, and a young child’s face in the foreground was blurred, too close to the camera.

Beside the pictures, there was a drawing, clearly done by a child’s hand, scribbled with dark pencil. It showed a dark, armored figure with spikes producing out of it being hugged by a smaller figure with blonde hair and purple robes.

And, clutched in the Shogun’s hand and held close to his chest, even in sleep, there was another drawing. This one must have only been done by a truly talented artist, and it was a rendition of a beautiful girl with dark hair in a bob with bangs. Her smile was familiar—not unlike the man’s in the photograph. Being close as he was, Takeshi also noticed—the Shogun’s eyes were bagged and his eyelids were bloodshot.

His heart sunk. He did not know any of these people—but he could guess very well. This was clearly personal, not meant for them to see.

He went to the opposite side of the bed and quietly began to collect the photographs and drawings, gentle as he placed them back into the metal chest. He tugged the drawing from the Shogun’s hand and returned it to it’s home. The Shogun did not stir. There was no line between his brows for the first time in a long while.

“What is it?” The physician asked softly, looking over the sleeping man’s shoulder.

Takeshi reverently closed the chest and set it on the ground next to the bed. “No business of ours. Let us leave him to rest.”

Doctor Eun-ji nodded, pulling out the vial and setting it quietly on the bedside table. Takeshi took the decorative blanket at the foot of the bed and unfolded it, the golden fringe around the edges brushing the carpeted floor. He knew that the man did not need the extra warmth, but he hoped it would instead provide some meager comfort. Takeshi laid it across him.

Of course, he should have known better. But his own paternal instincts, curse them, had gotten the better of him.

The Shogun twitched when he was touched, shifting. Takeshi had time to berate himself internally and grimace before a calloused hand shot up and grabbed his armored glove.

“No need for alarm,” he murmured. The Shogun’s sleepy eyes squinted open. “It is only me.”

“Captain?” The grip relaxed. The voice was groggy. “…What time’s it?”

“An appropriate time for rest,” Takeshi reassured him, pulling the weave blanket up his shoulders, even as the man moved to rise. “You are not missing anything. The night is long, still. Sleep.”

“No,” the Shogun grumbled. “No, you have news. What is it?”

He pushed Takeshi’s hands back and sat up, letting the blanket fall to his waist as he rubbed his forehead. From next to the bedside table, the physician shot Takeshi a disapproving look. Takeshi was aware enough to look properly culled by his silent scathing, this time.

He had half a mind to tell the man not to worry until the morning, but Takeshi knew that the Shogun would not want that. He pulled the envelope from his obi and held it out. “A message from General Skylor. I am sorry to wake you in order to deliver it.”

“And your medicine,” the physician said firmly, thrusting a hand forward to hand the vial in the Shogun’s face by the leather string. The Shogun jerked back a bit to avoid being hit in the nose. “Here, drink.”

The man gave him a desperate, disgusted look. “Still? I feel fine, honestly.”

“I don’t trust you,” the physician turned his nose up. “Perhaps when you learn to be properly attentive to your injuries, and inform me of them, your treatments won’t have to last so long.”

The Shogun glowered, but popped the vial open and threw it back. He gagged briefly, but swallowed, handing the glass back in order to break open the seal on the letter. He slid it out and read it while he was still grimacing from the taste.

His grimace deepened as his eyes ran over the words written. After a long moment, he exhaled, crumpled both letter and envelope in his hand, and they burst into flames. It quickly burned to ash, and the man dumped the handful onto his desk.

“Great,” he muttered. “We found the ninja’s hidden base, but when we got there, the forge was still warm. I had her look into some of the bases the generals had come across over the past few weeks that were also hastily abandoned. It seems like our suspicions were right.”

“Your suspicions, commander?” Takeshi asked, intrigued.

The man sighed, massaging his head and closing his tired eyes. “There’s a traitor among the generals.”

Takeshi traded a scandalized look with the physician.

The older man’s face slackened with his low exclamation. “By the Master’s light. You’re serious?”

“They’re the only ones who have access to our investigative activities. One of them is warning the rebels when we’re coming and probably providing all kinds of information on our military affairs,” the Shogun continued, voice muffled under his hand. “It would explain how the rebels have only grown into a bigger and bigger problem despite all my efforts. To have a mole in so high a position…fuck me. I should have realized sooner.”

In his exhaustion, the commander clearly did not care to keep his decorum. Both Takeshi and the doctor raised their brows. The Shogun didn’t bother looking up, now rubbing his face and groaning into his hands.

“The past is the past,” Takeshi reminded him, putting a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t look up. “You may not have known then, but you do now, and you are more than equipped to handle it. But first, I would implore you to rest. You will be no good in an additional investigation strung out.”

“I can’t. I have to order the generals to halt all movements. We’re so close, but if they find something now, then our mole will warn the rebels again.” The Shogun shook his head. “The entire operation will fail if they’re not found—and Lloyd’s coronation is in six days. Rest can wait.”

He reached to the bedside table and grabbed the dark holo, lighting it up. Takeshi put a hand over the phone screen—the Shogun looked up, mildly irritated.

“Let me pass the message on to General Skylor to order the generals,” Takeshi offered quietly. “I will ensure they are all aware of your command. You should sleep.”

“I can’t—”

“Do as the captain says—your body needs it,” Doctor Eun-ji inturrupted. “Hutchins will ensure all of your duties are handled. Don’t make me tell the prince that you’ve been taking poor care of yourself. You will make him very sad and he has already been in a sallow mood.”

The Shogun gave the physician an offended glare, opening his mouth, then closing it again with a scowl. The prince card always seemed to work on him. It was fortunate that a man as stubborn as he had such an obvious weakness. Fortunate for them, that was. Takeshi hoped his enemies never learned how close the Shogun and the prince were.

“Kai,” Takeshi insisted. The Shogun’s eyes flickered over at his name. “Please, place your trust in me. Rest.”

The Shogun worked his jaw. But the heaviness of his eyes and limbs seemed to win out. Takeshi gave the physician a suspicious side-eye, wondering if the man’s smug look was the result of slipping some sedative into the commander’s ‘medicine.’

“Alright,” the Shogun conceded, very much begrudgingly. “Fine. Four hours. I’ll rest for that long. You’ll give my orders to General Skylor right away?”

“I will.” Takeshi bowed his head low. “The moment I leave this room, you have my word.”

The man nodded, exhaling and running a hand through his hair. “Go on, then.”

Takeshi turned when he was dismissed. He opened the door once more and held it as he waited for Doctor Eun-ji.

The physician had paused with a frown at the Shogun’s bedside, however. The flickering hearth lit only half of his face, drowning the rest in his troubled expression. “…Would you not like to know the prince’s condition, my lord? The last you saw him, he still held his bedside bucket, if I’m not mistaken.”

The Shogun ran forefinger and thumb across his eyebrows without looking up. “Yes. Right. Of course—how is he?”

“Well,” the doctor reported quietly. “He is doing well.”

“Good. That’s good,” the Shogun replied, distant, eyes far from them. “Thank you.”

The physician bowed, this time without any smart comments. He and Takeshi were able to share a look right in front of the Shogun, and the man did not even seem to notice, abruptly deep in thought. The line between his brows had returned, like it had been etched there all along.

Takeshi held the door open for the physician to walk through. He gave the Shogun one last glance—he still sat up, blanket over crossed legs, face in his hands. Takeshi somehow doubted that his four hours would be filled with sleep as peaceful as he had been getting before. He sighed silently and closed the door behind him.

Perhaps the Shogun had been right after all. Not even the simplest of things could be easy for them.

Chapter Text

When Jay had been left behind while the others went on their super-important mission, he’d been under the impression that it was because he was “the only one who could protect Ninjago” and “his job was even more important.” It was only after they’d left that he’d realized they’d all lied right to his face. Including Nya. Those damn liars had just wanted to leave without him throwing a fit, like he was a four year old. Which he wasn’t, thank you very much. He could accept Sensei Wu’s decisions with maturity, he was twenty-four, for the Master’s sake, they weren’t teenagers anymore. The reason that he was still lounging around on his musty old futon after ten o’clock in the morning was because he wanted to, not because he was pouting.

On a normal morning, assuming there hadn’t been a mission the night before, Jay would have gotten up around five in the morning to train. There was something nice about sleeping in, but there was also something about it that made him feel like a lazy piece of crap. Maybe he was somehow getting back at sensei for deciding he be the one abandoned in this dump. Which was a low remark coming from him considering he’d grown up in a junkyard.

The futon he lay on was full of holes and he could smell mold somewhere in the room. He sighed, picking at the ratty blanket. His his socked toes wiggled, the blanket unable to reach them. He missed their base already.

Too bad it had burned down after they’d abandoned it the day before—along with four blocks worth of warehouses. Wu-sensei had an impeccable sense of danger sometimes.

The room was relatively small, with one window up high, propped open with a wooden cylinder, as the building lacked internal temperature control. From it, the sounds of the middle city flooded in. Jay was used to sleeping with it in the background, so there was something comforting about the sounds of the tram dragging against the railway far above, the occasional muffled chatter of people, and hum of hovermobile lanes petering on. Through the window, the sky was a brilliant blue color, but by the breeze that skipped in, Jay had a feeling it would cloud over soon enough.

Most of the room was filled with a mismatch of boxes, some of them deteriorating and spilling training equipment out. Boxing gloves and show weapons and some broken trophies could be seen. Four punching bags wrapped in duck tape had been pushed to the side, and one of them was still spilling sand from somewhere, a shallow puddle of it beneath the pile. Jay barely had room to spread out on the futon he’d been provided and for the duffle bag to fit at his feet.

He folded his hands behind the back of his head, gazing through the window and passed the skyscrapers. “Guess it’s just you and me, man.”

The sky, of course, didn’t respond. He’d probably rather watch over Nya anyway.

He tried to tug up the blanket—but the action was in vain as he heard loud footsteps making their way toward the room from the hallway. He groaned in annoyance and pretended to be asleep.

It didn’t accomplish much more than hiding under the sheet would have. The beads that filled the doorway were knocked apart, clinking together, and Jay could smell the extra presence from where he was.

“Good morning, champ! Up and at ‘em!”

“Leave me alone!” Jay complained over his shoulder, then hunkered back down.

“No can-do, buddy boy, we’re going to be opening here in a few minutes, and if you’re gonna be staying here, you’ve gotta earn your keep! I’ve heard you’re pretty good with the ‘ki-yahs’ and the ‘hoo-yees’ so you can help teach my classes today!”

“What does that even mean?” Jay looked back just to glare at the man. “And I was ordered here by the rebel council, all I have to do is wait until my team gets back. I don’t work for you!”

“Blah, blah, blah, be in the main room in fifteen minutes, Major Blue, or I’ll add extra chores to your chart!”

“You know my name, Darreth!”

The man just clapped his hands as he walked away. “Let’s go, ninja man, ain’t got time to waste!”

“Ugh!” Jay folded his arms and curled into himself, sticking out his lower lip. This sucked. Why, of all the places he’d been stationed, had it been with Darreth?

Okay, now he was pouting.

He begrudgingly threw the sheet off of him and rolled to sit up, unzipping his duffle bag to dig through it. Dirty, dirty, dirty—he sniffed a sweatshirt. Somewhat clean, sure. He found some spare sweatpants that also passed the sniff test. His black uniform was strewn about inside, getting wrinkly, which he would certainly hear about from sensei when the others got back, but for now, Jay couldn’t find it in himself to fold them properly.

He threw his clothes over his shoulder and slid into his slippers before slapping through the beaded curtain that replaced the door. He scowled when they came back to flick his ass, considering punching them. He refrained from making himself look like an idiot and headed for the bathroom.

His ‘room’ was a bigger storage closet in the back of Darreth’s dojo, where he taught what he called karate. Jay didn’t quite believe that Darreth knew a single correct kata, but that sounded like an exhausting conversation to have. Darreth also lived in the back of the dojo, so he occupied the place full-time. The walls of the hallway were once white, now peeling a bit with yellow, but the dark wood accents looked some sort of polished. Every single door had vanished and been replaced with his hippie-nonsense, the brown, gold, and yellow beads reflecting light across the walls. The only real door apart from the entrance was thankfully, the bathroom door. Not that it seemed to stop Darreth.

“I’m showering!” Jay’s voice echoed through the halls. “If you come in and try to pee like you did last night, I will electrocute you!”

Distantly, Darreth replied from the front room, completely unashamed. “I only have one bathroom!”

Jay rolled his eyes in disgust and slammed the bathroom door behind him.

He cranked on the shower. The bathroom was small and smelled faintly of mildew. There was a ring of mold in the toilet that Jay had sworn he scrubbed out just yesterday. He shook his head, setting his clothes on the counter as steam began to fill the room.

When Jay had arrived late the prior afternoon, he’d quickly found out Darreth had no sense of personal space or decency. Yet another reason he found himself bitter, knowing his team was currently on their way to visit the Realm of Tengo-No. A whole other realm, filled with dragons and oni and stuff! Sure, the oni part didn’t sound very appetizing—Jay had enough of those guys with the one purple bastard skulking around—but dragons everywhere? Sign him up! He’d never even seen a lightening dragon, much less been able to connect with them, the way some of his other teammates had been able to during their missions.

But no. Someone had to stay back just in case something insane happened and the rebellion needed a ninja on hand. Or, the more likely possibility of the council attempting to sign them up for a mission without their consent. The last time that had happened, they’d lost a teammate. It wouldn’t happen again. The rebellion was lucky, in Jay’s opinion, that Sensei Wu had even agreed to work with them again.

Jay was alright with it because they’d managed to help a lot of people already. But if it required him to stay with Darreth Yoon for the whole week until Operation Dawn Break, he was seriously going to reconsider.

He unfortunately took Darreth’s threat of extra chores seriously, so he didn’t take his time in the shower. He scrubbed at his hair with the towel after he’d gotten out and wiped off the condensation on the mirror. He pulled on the semi-fresh clothes, comfortable for training, then put on a few layers of bracelets, stuck in his earrings, and finally dropped his engagement necklace back around his neck. The blue side of his and Nya’s yin-yang stood out on his dark crewneck.

He then spent most of his fifteen minutes trying to arrange his curls in the way he liked so he didn’t look like an idiot in front of any of Darreth’s trainees.
He was still messing his his hair when he put his slippers back on and obediently went to meet Darreth in the studio. He could hear the man humming, somehow incredibly off-key despite the simple tune. Jay had to hype himself up before brushing through another threshold of plastic beads.

Morning light was slowly spilling into the front room. Beyond the glass walls and doors at the entrance, people passed by, windows reflected sunlight, a busy street beyond.

Darreth was busying himself dusting off a tall shelf full of trophies at every level. He turned back to give Jay a grin as he walked in. “Ah, there’s the slugger! Come help me straighten out my trophies!”

“Don’t call me that,” Jay gave an exasperated sigh, but dragged his feet over to half-heartedly help.

The man was around middle aged, but looked older, with stubble on his face and a receding hairline, which was exemplified by the way he slicked back his hair. He wore some sort of decorative gi, colored brown, but it looked more like he was going to a disco with the way it was bedazzled. He also didn’t wear underrobes with it, which Jay tried not to be put-off by—but Darreth let the gi slump down in the front to show off his thick chest hair over his pot-belly. Jay would forever be annoyed that he was just an inch or so taller than him.

None of the trophies had dust on them, like Darreth cleaned them every day. They were also obviously not all from martial arts tournaments. Some of them had small figures kicking twida balls, others with a tennis player poised with a racket, and one with dual-theater masks on them. They were different levels of nicked and aged. Every single one of them had a sticker stuck over the name that had previously been on them, printed out by what seemed to be an at-home label maker, all of them saying Darreth Yoon.

Jay just rubbed his face. He could not believe that this guy was one of the rebellion’s more successful recruit trainers.

“I think you’ve got this handled,” Jay told the man dryly.

Darreth nodded, waving him away. “Yeah, yeah, you can go hit the open sign.”

“When’s your first class start, anyway?”

“Uh,” Darreth glanced around, like he’d find a clock somewhere. “In a few minutes. Or a few minutes ago. One or the other.”

First Master help me.

Jay straightened out the wall of punching bags and made sure the mats were properly lined up and taped together. There was some strange stains on them and one of them definitely smelled like it needed a dry clean. He dug through Darreth’s bathroom to attempt to wipe down the wall of mirrors at the back of the studio. Little kid hand prints covered them up to the waist before he put some elbow grease into them.

Between the studio with the mats and the doorway, there was an entranceway, separated from the mats by a low wall. It was decorated with pawned weapons. Jay straightened them, curiously pulling a katana from it’s saya. It was disgustingly dull. Jay rolled his eyes and put it back.

He clicked on the Open sign, the hologram flickering, then lighting up onto the window. Beside it, in large letters printed onto the window and facing the outside world, a logo said Yoon’s Kickin’ Karate!

Just after he’d flicked on the sign, a woman startled him by abruptly meeting his eyes through the glass, under the glow of the hologram. She quickly smiled—her teeth were blindingly white. And she was the most perfectly beautiful women that Jay had ever seen. Her long, dark hair didn’t sport a single frizz, her smooth skin didn’t have a single blemish, and her eyes were utterly captivating, a deep and strange magenta. The way she moved, even, was as graceful as a dancer, her body perfectly slender. She wore sweatpants and a crop-top. Jay was for a moment, frozen, just for the fact that she was smiling at him the way he was. He hadn't known real people could look so...uncomfortably flawless.

He realized he was staring and awkwardly smiled back before turning away. What a weirdo, why was she smiling at him like that?

He quickly realized why when the bell rung above the door to the studio and he realized she was carrying a practice bag. This supermodel was here for the dojo? It had to be a mistake. She had wandered into the wrong place.

But she didn’t lose her smile as she came in.

“Hey—” Jay started, about to tell her ‘wrong shop, lady.’

But Darreth shoved passed him, grinning and spreading his arms. “Jisoo!”

“Sensei!” The woman’s eyes brightened and she surprisingly accepted the hug from the musky man. Jay crinkled his nose. “Good morning! Sorry, I know I’m here a minute early.”

“Oh, no problem, it’s no problem at all,” Darreth scolded her lightly, wagging a finger. “I’ve told you all, the dojo is always open. After all, we’re all in the same boat, now.”

“You’re right, sorry, sensei,” she laughed and her laugh was a wonderful sound, like a crisp bell on a peaceful hillside. Her bright eyes landed on Jay again. “Hello, are you a new student? If so, you’re definitely lucky. Darreth-sensei is the best there is!”

Darreth laughed and waved her away, but he clearly preened under the compliment. Jay raised an eyebrow at her like, Are you serious? But her expression didn’t waver.

He cleared his throat. “Uh, no, actually. I’m here to help teach for the time being.”

“He’s with the rebellion,” Darreth added.

Jay glared out of the corner of his wide eye. You don’t just tell people that!

Jisoo didn’t seem shocked, though. Rather, she grinned brighter. “Really?! That’s fantastic! I’m sorry for assuming!”

She quickly bowed, very low and respectful, which was not a bow Jay often got. He flushed a little. “It’s not a big deal.”

When she came up, she continued. “We haven’t met anyone else from the rebellion, yet! Does this mean something, sensei?”

Darreth smiled, in what he probably thought was a sly way, but looked a bit like he was constipated. “We’ll see. I do have something exciting to share after practice today!”

The woman, Jisoo, dropped off her practice duffle and began to stretch preemptively.

It wasn’t much longer before the bell above the door rung once, twice more. Two more people came in, younger than Jisoo, and even younger than Jay. They seemed to be older teenagers, obviously siblings with their similar complexations and face shapes. The older boy had shorter, spiked hair, the girl with a bob cut. They looked vaguely familiar. The boy walked in after his sister with a clear limp. He was maybe eighteen or nineteen, while his sister was around sixteen or seventeen.

Jay subtly frowned as he messed with the weight of one of Darreth’s bo-staffs. They seemed young for Darreth’s apparent recruit-class.

“Morning, sensei!” The girl chirped.

The boy followed. “Morning.”

“Hey, guys!” Jisoo greeted with her blinding smile.

The boy blushed.

They both bowed before taking their shoes off before the mat. They introduced themselves as Nobara and Minho. Nobara quickly went to hug Jisoo.

“How’s your mom?” Jisoo asked as she pulled back. “You guys doing okay?”

“Yeah, we’re alright,” Nobara told her with a weary grin. “Mom’s a little stressed, keeping away from the empire and all, and we’re still pretty much on house arrest whenever we’re not here. She’s really happy to have us back, though.”

“Can’t even go to the corner store for snacks,” Minho sighed as he joined them to stretch. “Hey, who’s the new guy?”

Both of the siblings eyed Jay as he spun the bo-staff, bored. He pretended like he couldn’t hear them.

“He’s with the resistance!” Jisoo told them excitedly. “And sensei says he’s got big news for us today!”

The girls both squealed, Nobara squeezing Jisoo’s hand. Minho grinned along with them, giving Jay a small wave. They certainly had the enthusiasm. It was refreshing to see, if not naive. Jay was used to the dreary side of the rebellion, down the in crypts. It was…hard to feel hopeful, some days. He was glad these guys still had the spirit, however misguided it was.

Two more joined them before classes truly began. A spry twenty-something year old, with longer curly hair pulled back into a man-bun. He had a tan complexion and a longer look about him, from face to height. He was the tallest one there. Finally, a man in his forties, with a military haircut and a square face, who didn’t smile all that much, walked in. He was built like an ox and looked like he’d try to crush you before he’d hug you. They began group stretches, led by Darreth, once everyone had arrived.

Jay’s flexibility was a lot more impressive than the others, to put it simply, and they quickly commented on it. They sat on the mats in a circle. Darreth was by far the worst at the stretches, even worse than the older man, who, for a muscle-bound guy, was surprisingly able.

“Dude, you’re, like, crazy good at this,” Minho pointed out, Jay lazily resting over his spread legs while the rest of them struggled to reach the ground.

“Have you been doing this for a long time?” The man-bun asked, who had introduced himself as Ren.

“Yeah,” Jisoo added. “How long have you been with the resistance?”

“A while.” I don’t remember how long. “Okay, a few years, I guess. How long have you guys been at it?”

They all looked at each other.

“I’ve been here the longest,” Ren said, sitting himself back up. “Maybe a month and a half. These guys joined a little later—”

“Hey, wait a minute!” Nobara pointed. “I knew it! I recognize you! You were at Camp Tetsu—you’re a ninja!”

Jay’s shoulders tensed. “Uh—”

The girl’s eyes sparkled. “You saved us. Me and Minho were there for months, and he would have died, but that other ninja carried him out. We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.”

The rest of the trainees’ eyes bulged, even the stoic older guy’s.

Oh—the kid that Nya had pulled out of the barracks. The girl was being genuine. Jay was still internally grimacing. The knowledge that he was a ninja was an incredibly tight secret, even among higher officers of the rebellion. They’d been a bit light about revealing their faces in the past, but it wasn’t like they were among regular rebels very often.

He begrudgingly admitted it. “Alright, I am the Blue Ninja. But that information can’t leave this room under any circumstances, alright? How’d you guys get up to the surface, anyway? Travel to and from Nagas is usually locked down.”

The brother and sister shared a look.

Minho spoke. “We were allowed to go, but we can’t go back. We were blindfolded and everything on the way out. But the rebellion saved us, and it’s not like we can live normal lives under the empire anymore, since we’re fugitives. So, we decided to join. To give back and stuff.”

“Being a part of the rebellion isn’t all sunshine and rainbows,” Jay glanced around at all of them seriously. “Doing this…you could all die or be imprisoned again. You all know those risks, right?”

Darreth laughed, giving Jay a warning look. “Of course they know that, kid! I gave them the talk! Don’t you try to talk our recruits into leaving us.”

“Just checking,” Jay gave him the stink eye right back. “Some recruiters sugar-coat things to keep their recruiting numbers up, you know.”

Darreth gasped in offense.

“We know the risks,” Jisoo told him. “But we want to make a change. Thank you for looking out for us, though. I…I can’t believe you’re a real ninja.”

“Do you really have magic?” Ren asked hesitantly.

Jay pondered how much he could tell them. It wasn’t like it was a secret. Elemental masters have existed since the beginning of time, though under the empire, they were shrouded with evil and terrorism. Even some rebels were still wary of them, thinking of them as inhuman. All of these guys seemed innocently curious—though the older man, who was called Satoshi, was giving Jay a wary look, now.

Jay sighed. They switched their stretching to arms. “It’s not magic, it’s qi. Everything is imbedded with it, people like me just have more qi than others, so we can interact with the world in a different way. That’s all I can tell, you though—you know, top secrets, and all.”

“Whoa,” Minho said.

Ren and Nobara nodded.

Jisoo was looking at him like she’d won the lottery, just being in his presence. An open-lipped smile of delight was slowly growing.

Satoshi shifted uncomfortably.

Darreth got them all to their feet and they began going through some forms. Jay corrected them as they went along, glumly noticing some things that Darreth had been teaching them wrong the whole time. Darreth gracefully took Jay’s advice, at least.

It was quickly apparent that some of them had not been at this for long. Though they came multiple times a week, everyone aside from Satoshi and Ren seemed to have had less than a month’s worth of training. Satoshi carried himself like a boxer, and it wasn’t hard to guess that Ren had been professionally trained in the past.

After forms, they split into duos to begin practice spars. Movements were kept slow in order to get moves right rather than to actually defeat their partner. Jisoo and Nobara chatted as they traded motions, Satoshi paired with Minho and was clearly taking it a bit easy on the kid, while Ren and Darreth were sparring for real. Jay continued to walk around and correct people.

“Nice form,” Jay complimented Satoshi as he walked by.

The man grunted and nodded toward him in response. “Thanks.”

His terse response didn’t leave room for more conversation. Okay then, remain a mystery.

He moved on to the girls.

“Make sure you’re twisting your whole body with those hooks,” Jay reminded Jisoo as she practiced her punching form against Nobara’s gloves. “It’ll give you extra momentum. That’ll make you punch harder and keep you from hurting your wrist.”

“Pivot your foot,” Nobara correctly pointed out, gesturing towards Jisoo’s back foot.

“Alrighty,” Jisoo accepted before quickly gaining perfect form. She gave Jay a blinding smile. “How’s this?”

“You’re a natural,” he told her honestly. “Keep it up.”

Meanwhile, Ren was giving whipping Darreth. The young man swept the legs out from under Darreth and threw him over his shoulder like it was nothing. Darreth hit the ground flat on his back with a omph!

The sensei coughed and held up a shaky thumbs up. “Great. Perfect. Jus’ like I taught you.”

Ren grabbed the man’s hand to help him back up.

“I worked for the Imperial Police for a few years,” Ren explained when Jay asked. “Got my training from them. I fell for their propaganda—thought I’d be keeping people safe, you know? But it wasn’t hard to see how corrupt they are. I didn’t want anything to do with it, but they make it hard to quit. As soon as I got out, I went looking for the rebellion. What I saw them get away with—it can’t go on. People’s lives ruined, murders covered up—someone has to do something. I’m sure I don’t need to convince someone like you, though.”

Jay smiled. “I’m glad you found your way out, dude. The rebellion’s happy to have you.”

Darreth held up a ‘T’ with his hands for a timeout and groaned loudly as he popped his back. Ren snorted a bit.

Minho laughed a bit, across from Ren. He and Satoshi were taking a water break. “You’re not what I expected a ninja to be like.”

Jay quirked an eyebrow. “Did you want some fortune cookie lines? I’ve got a million. ‘Remember that true mastery is like a river, ever flowing and deepening with each bend, nourished by the ceaseless pursuit of wisdom.’”

“Pursuit of wisdom, yeah—We’ll keep that in mind,” Ren smiled.

Minho and Satoshi set their waters aside and faced each other once more. Minho attempted to do a kick towards Satoshi, but the leg he’d been limping on bucked a bit beneath him. He winced as Satoshi easily deflected his leg, the older man frowning at the teenager protectively.

Jay’s lips twitched down. “What’d you do to it?”

Minho grunted. “Messed it up while in that camp. The rebel doctors said it’d never heal right. It usually doesn’t hurt, though, it’s just—ugh, weak. I can still fight.”

“Sure you can,” Jay agreed. “But that doesn’t mean you can ignore it. You’ll have to compensate in your fighting style or you’ll never be in a fair fight with someone with two working knees.”

“How do I do that?”

“How’s your wrestling game?”

“Uh…” Minho looked down at his arms. “Lacking.”

Jay huffed and explained how important balance was. It Minho wasn’t going to be able to properly balance during a fight, he’d be better keeping a distance with a blaster that the rebellion provided, or by taking an opponent to an equal disadvantage—in other words, taking them to the ground.

Jay had Satoshi stand in his fighting stance, then took a knee before him, pressing the inside of his foot to the inside of Satoshi’s foot, before hooking his arms around the back of Satsohi’s knees.

“Once you’re here,” Jay told Minho. “You’re going to want to angle your head up into his gut. The pressure doesn’t feel too nice, does it?”

“No,” Satoshi grunted, already stumbling to keep his balance as Jay jabbed his head into his liver.

“Then you just sweep your foot—” Jay did so easily and Satoshi immediately lost his balance, crashing to the ground. He caught himself pretty well, Jay still with a hold on his legs. “—And it’s almost impossible for anyone to stay upright, even if they’re stronger than you. You okay, man?”

Jay released Satoshi and reached his hand down. Satoshi grabbed it in a strong grip and Jay pulled him up, Satoshi nodding that he was alright.

“Go ahead and try,” Jay told Minho.

Minho did, following Jay’s instructions and Satoshi’s gruff suggestions until the older man was once again losing his balance.

“Nice job!” Jay praised. The boy’s face was bright with victory as Satoshi clapped a hand on his shoulder in silent approval.

Their sparring went on for a bit longer before Darreth called them back together to do cool-down stretching. All of the trainees seemed a bit giddy after the day’s practice, anticipating Darreth’s announcement, and remaining thrilled about Jay’s presence.

Jay drank from his water bottle. His qi tingled. He slowed in his movements, glancing around subtly as he swallowed.

Huh. For a second, it was like he’d felt another qi presence. But it was just the trainees happily chatting and Darreth glowing with pride as he looked over them. Jay finished his water and capped it, hesitating before he glanced out the window and into the sky, now dotted with white clouds.

He must have imagined it. Ghost qi. He was feeling nostalgic, being around a rebel cell that seemed so close and familiar with each other, that was all. It was like they were their own little family. It had only been a day, but he was already missing his. I hope you guys are safe.

“So, what should we call you?” Jisoo asked with wide, innocent eyes as they wrapped up. “Sensei?”

Jay scoffed, amused. “No, uh—no….you can call me Sunwalker.”

Most of them nodded, but Satoshi snorted a laugh. Jay grinned at him. He’d clearly gotten Jay’s reference.

The older man shook his head. “You seem too young to have watched that before it was outlawed.”

“No, sir-ee,” Jay corrected him. “If there’s a rebel movie that exists, I’ve seen it. My parents collected empire-banned media when I was a kid. Star Battles was my favorite.”

“Star Battles…?” Nobara asked, sharing a confused look with Jisoo.

“It didn’t get any more anti-empire than that movie,” Satoshi gave Jay a close-lipped smile of quiet approval. “One day, I’ll find a copy for all of you.”

They finished packing up their water bottles.

“Alright, alright,” Darreth clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention. “Listen up, kiddos. I’ve got some big news you’ve all been waiting to hear. You’ve all been training day and night and I’ve seen how much you’ve improved and learned to work as a team. I am so proud of how far you’ve come. I gave my report to the council and they got back to me—they’ve assigned you all your first official field mission! Congratulations! As of today, you are not just recruits—but agents of the resistance, ready to stick it back to the empire!”

Jisoo and Nobara cheered, grabbing each others’ arms. Minho’s face broke out into a grin and he pumped his fist, even Ren’s expression brightening. Satoshi raised an eyebrow Jay’s way, as if to say, Is this guy serious? At least one of them had common sense.

Jay stared at Darreth, eyes slowly narrowing to glare holes into the pot-bellied man’s head. Darreth didn’t seem to notice, just as excited as his young recruits.

“Finally!” Nobara cried. “I knew we were ready for the field!”

“When is out mission, sensei?” Ren asked, trying to present a stoic face.

“I’m glad you asked,” Darreth nodded. “Because your first mission is happening this very day. We’re going to be heading out in the afternoon, so we’re going to prepare until then.”

Jay pulled out a bit of his phone from his pocket—it was eleven-thirty in the morning already. He gave Darreth a doubtful look.

“I want you all to go home and get your mission uniforms, then meet back here in an hour for debriefing. I’ll explain everything, then. If you have work, call in sick. If you’ve got a date, cancel it. Today’s the day, people, and now’s the time. Understood?”

Darreth abruptly sounded like a mission commander. They all straightened and bowed, chorusing, “Yes, sensei!”

Jay crossed his arms, trying not to fume visibly until they’d hurried to file out the front doors. They were all trying to curb their excitement with serious expressions—like kids playing soldier.

The moment the bell rang for the last time and the door sealed behind them, Jay slammed the Open sign off and rounded on Darreth with a scowl.

“What the hell are you thinking?” He growled. “I know damn well the resistance council wouldn’t approve those guys for any sort of field work! They haven’t even been at this for a month! They suck!”

“Whoa, ninja man, chill out!” Darreth put his hands up. “They’re a good team and they do have a mission!”

“So, what, a fake one? Did you just make one up? What are you playing at?”

“It’s not fake! Not really,” Darreth told him. “Look, it’s part of my training regiment. I give them an easy mission for them to get some real field experience without major risk—it gives them confidence going forward and helps them feel what it’s like before they get put on a real assignment. Don’t worry, I do this every time. I do produce some of them best recruits for the rebellion, you know. My recruits always end up on special operations and stuff!”

Jay was not satisfied by this answer.

What was Darreth trying to do, get these guys killed? They were baby rebels! They weren’t ready to unscrew a light bulb together in any official capacity, much less go on a mission! Plus, at least two of them were fugitives who would be arrested the moment they were recognized. And First Master forbid any imperials arrest them knowing they were part of the rebellion. They’d probably be tortured and them summarily executed.

“That sounds stupid,” Jay scoffed. “I trained for six years before my sensei let me see a hint of combat, and even then, it was an emergency situation!”

“Hey, relax, brochacho,” Darreth insisted. “I know what I’m doing. I always go along with them in case they get in trouble. There won’t be a ton of action. Trust my process.”

“Trust you? Yeah, no. Explain.”

Darreth sighed and nodded to himself.

“I’ll admit that…well, I’m sending them out earlier than I normally would. Usually, I’d wait another three months or so, but they don’t have that much time. In less than a week, we’re going to have the biggest coordinated mission that the rebellion has ever tried out—it’s gonna be an all hands on deck situation. Even these guys will be called in. I just want to give them the best chance they have before…”

Darreth trailed off, then vaguely gestured out the doors. Jay glanced out the windows, into the streets.

Jay pursed his lips. Darreth wasn’t wrong. The rebel cells were going to be responsible for taking the imperial centers on the west side of the city. They’d have the help of the serpentine, and air support from the dragons if all went well in Tengo-No, but…they were up against the Empire. Jay wasn’t niave. This operation was going to be the single largest loss of life the resistance had ever seen. People were going to die in the raids. Especially green rebel recruits.

Giving them some field experience maybe wasn’t the worst thing after all.

But it was still ridiculously dangerous.

“…Fine. But you’d better tell me what mission is so ‘risk-free’ right now, or I’m shutting you down,” Jay warned.

“Alright…if you really want to know…you can come to the debriefing.”

Jay stared at him. His hand balled up at his sides and a shot of static electricity snapped between his fist and his leg. The smell of burning fabric wafted up to Jay’s nose as the shot or electricity burrowed a brown hole through the leg of his sweatpants. Darreth didn’t even startle, he just continued giving Jay a smug look of confidence. He’d grown far too comfortable around Jay and the other ninja over the years.

Jay had rarely ever wanted people to be intimidated by him, but right now, he wished he had the power to scare Darreth out of something so dumb.

Ninja do not cause harm, ninja do not cause harm, Jay began to chant to himself in his head, turning away from the man. Ninja do not punch people—oh my master, please let this be the exception.

-

The clouds rolled across the sky that afternoon at a rather quick pace, a visible crawl that Jay’s eyes followed as he kept his nerves calm. The breeze had kept up into the day, and as high up as he was at the moment, it whistled through the corpse of the building. They stood along the support beams of an abandoned project that could have been an apartment building or an office building. It had likely belonged to a bankrupt company or by a company that wasn’t Empire-based—all of which seemed to eventually fail no matter what. The long rebar beneath Jay creaked under the weight of bodies that it hadn’t been required to hold up since it’s constructions crew had up and abandoned the placed years ago. Old, tattered tarps had loosened and now flapped loudly around the deteriorating skeleton of what would have been a twelve-floor building.

Jay stood at the edge of what would have been the fifth level. The vertigo and the breeze should have made it difficult to balance. He wasn’t having trouble. Just above them, one of those loosened tarps occasionally snapped down to block his vision for only a moment before it was taken back up by the wind. His fingertips came back dirty from holding the vertical support beam he stood next to. He rubbed his fingertips together as he leaned his shoulder against it. He crossed his arms. His blue arm band over his gi shifted.

In the clouds that he was watching, he could almost imagine laughing eyes and a sharp smirk. Playing babysitter? Never thought I’d see the day, they seemed to tell him. There was no way for him to know for sure, of course, but he could guess very well what was being thought of him.

I know you're being an ass up there, Jay raised an eyebrow up at the clouds. So just shut up and watch me, Kai. Just watch me.

Despite his words, there was only a comfort there. The breeze picked up a bit and he could imagine that it was his answer. Jay never felt alone under the sky, even knowing his team was in an entirely other Realm.

“Three minutes to go-time.” Jay glanced down when Ren spoke. The young man spared a glance at his watch before gazing beneath the building once more. “Jisoo, how’re we looking?”

Through Jay’s comms, they were given a response from the woman. “I’m in position! All ready!”

“Line of sight?”

“Clear!” She chirped. “I’ll let you know when I have eyes on the truck.”

Ren nodded, as if Jisoo could see him. She wasn’t visible at all, from her position further down the corpse of a building.

The rest of them, Darreth, Satoshi, Minho, and Nobara, in addition to Ren, were crouched on the same bar as Jay. They were each strapped into a harness that was carefully attached to the bar, and they were each holding on with at least one hand to remain steady while they waited. They were in a mismatch of shirts and black cargo pants, but Jay wasn’t going to say anything about it, since they’d had the common sense to put on blaster-proof vests, elbow, and knee pads, along with tool belts. On said belts, they each had a blaster, which were at some point liberated from the imperial military.

For the mission, they’d all taken on the red band of the resistance for the first time. They didn’t know what it meant, yet, and some other rebels still didn’t. Jay would make sure to explain it after they got back to the dojo.

Minho was clutching onto his harness with white knuckles, growing whiter the longer he looked down. Satoshi had a hand on his shoulder to keep him grounded. Nobara was typing rapidly on a holoscreen.

Each of them had gone quieter since they’d begun as their stress had begun to settle in. Jay could see it in the way they checked and re-checked things. The waiting was the worst part, he knew, at least in the beginning. The choking feeling of anticipation had once made him feel so anxious, he would throw up before missions went down. It got easier, of course. Jay hadn’t had a situation since he was a kid. He wondered if it was different for them—since they weren’t starting out at twelve years old, and all.

Beneath them and across an alleyway, there was an Imperial post tucked between the shorter buildings of the area. They were in the southern districts of the Inno Region, but still middle-city area. Midday as it was, and in the location they were in, the neighborhood was calm, only a few people on their way home from their workday using the roads. There was a girl walking her dog across the street—nothing much else. Calm. Jay could tell why Darreth had chosen this place and he could almost believe that Darreth wasn’t completely dumb for it. The city was as close to quiet as Jay had ever heard it in such a sleepy neighborhood. The Imperial post was even sleepier, with troopers populating it that rarely saw any action. They were just ticket-givers.

The building itself was older as well, and it was much smaller than other posts. It was only two levels tall, and according to the schedule they’d procured, barely ten people worked the post at one time. It was a communications relic from the days when the Empire was more paranoid, set up in order to provide a closed circuit of communication should the satellites fail them. It was, as loath as Jay was to admit that Darreth was right about something, an easy target.

“I’ve gotten into their system,” Nobara told the others. “Pulling up the camera feeds with the blueprints.”

A rebel hacking program provided had been plugged into the side of her tablet. She didn’t have to be a genius hacker to figure it out, but Jay was impressed by her skill anyway. Good thing she had practiced it during debrief. Ren checked his watch again. The young man was sweating.

Jay breathed in the fresh air through his mask.

“I’m just saying,” Minho whispered to Satoshi. “I think we should have some kind of team name.”

Satoshi raised an eyebrow at him.

“Like what?” Nobara asked.

“I don’t know,” Minho’s harness creaked as he squeezed it tighter. “Maybe Team Ren, or something, since he’s our leader.”

“Now’s really not the time, guys,” Ren told them. He hesitated, then, “But definitely not that one.”

Jay smiled under the wrap over his lower face. Every team was the same after all. His eyes were drawn toward the skies again.

“What about the Sunwalkers?” Nobara suggested, glancing at Jay. She didn’t have a mask on to hide her nervous smile. “Since I bet not every rebel cell has a ninja on their team.”

“But I don’t want to mix up our team name with Sunwalker,” Jisoo said over the comms. There was a pout in her voice.

“Good point,” Minho whispered. “Maybe we can be The Clouds. You know, because the sky.”

“That is…super stupid, Min.”

Minho looked hurt for a moment—until he accidently looked down and his face suddenly went green. He clicked his jaw together. At the same time, Ren held up a hand for silence. The rest of the group shut their mouths and Jisoo seemed to sense the need for quiet.

Ren tapped his earpiece for them all to listen. There was a distant rumbling coming from down the underpopulated street.

“I see it,” Jisoo said quietly, like the truck would be able to hear her. “It should be coming around in three…two…”

A second later, and an imperial supply truck did indeed round the corner. The team became deadly serious and deadly silent.

Below, facing the wide alleyway, a garage door on the side of the imperial building groaned and began to raise up with hair-rising screeches. Those guys needed to oil that door. Jay’s shoulder rose, the sound bothering him. As the truck slowly chugged down the alley, a trooper stepped out of the garage and began to direct it in.

The truck turned and backed in with a beep…beep…beep, it’s lights flashing. The trooper from inside spoke to the driver through the rolled down window. The truck was waved the rest of the way in and the trooper disappeared inside.

The garage groaned and screeched again as it slowly began to close. As it did, Ren gestured at his team, pointing to the ground twice with three tight fingers.

They all nodded resolutely, the five of them shuffling to turn around. As they’d briefly practiced—too briefly, in Jay’s opinion—they all tugged at their cords as they sat backwards on their haunches. They were hooked up to the harness, where the carabiners attached them at their stomachs.

Ren lifted a hand, still holding on with his other, and made a quick ‘o’ shape with his fingers, then lifted his pointer finger up, holding the hand there. The other four repeated the gesture as they were ready, also leaving their hands in the air. When they all had, Ren nodded, and they went to hold onto their cords with two hands.

As they did, the grounding of the garage’s gears came to a stop. Jay glanced down to see that it had indeed closed all the way. Jay pulled his grapple gun from his waist. Made it himself, of course, with some tweaks from Zane and Nya. He pointed it up to the next bar and it let out a quiet pitoo! as he pulled the trigger. It silently swung around the next bar before hooking to itself, the hook drawn to it’s own cord like a magnet.

The cord was thin, but Jay didn’t need to tug at it to know that it would easily support his weight. It wasn’t just any rope, of course, it was a metalloid they’d specially crafted for this purpose. The recruits glanced at him with wide eyes and he tried not to be too smug about impressing them.

“Let’s do this,” Ren said. He murmured, “Three…two…one…go!”

You’d better be watching me, Kai. I’m gonna make sure these greenies become the best rebels you’ve ever seen.

They all kicked off. Jay calmly stepped from the beam. He was filled with familiar exhilaration as the floor abruptly dropped out from under him and he was falling. Then, his feet were hitting the dirty concrete, tabi boots touching down without a sound. He released the cord and stuck the grapple gun back onto his belt.

He glanced up to see Satoshi and Minho swinging more than they aught to be, and Nobara going a little too fast, but they eventually made it down. They stumbled to land on their feet, Darreth completely missing and instead knocking the wind out of himself by slamming onto his back with a loud, “Omph!” Jay rolled his eyes, glancing around to make sure they were still good.

They quickly unhooked themselves, Minho unhooking Nobara’s while she fumbled with her holoscreen.

Satoshi and Minho didn’t have to be reminded of their part of the plan. They quickly took off, jogging around towards the back of the building, Minho not letting his limp stop him. They disappeared around the corner.

The remaining four of them pressed themselves against the wall of the imperial post. Beside the garage door, there was a normal access door, with a glowing pad beside it, prompting for a certain keycard or a handprint. Jay glanced up—like the blueprints they’d studied during the debriefing, there was a camera above them, but they’d carefully avoided being spotted by it as of yet. As soon as they went for the door, they would be seen, so they were holding off to the last second to try barging in.

Jay could cut off the feed without any effort at all if he wanted to—he could feel the electricity running through the wall and behind the lens of the box of a security feed. In fact, he could feel the electricity that ran throughout the entire building. And with a little more focus, he could sense…everything.

“Going in now. They keycard worked.” They heard a back door open around the corner.

“Great, go straight passed two doorways on your left, and it’ll be your third,” Nobara said, looking through the blueprints. “I can see you on the cameras, but if they’re not paying attention, it’s not obvious.”

“Tell us what you can see through the window when you get there,” Ren reminded them.

They all waited, tensity crawling under even Jay’s skin. This was sloppy, but it had been their job to come up with the plan. Jay was only there to do what he could to help them if they got into real trouble. Otherwise, they had the reins. Though if they did mess up…well, there was only so much Jay could do.

“Listen,” he’d told the group while they’d been planning. “I’m going to come with you and do what I can, but you can’t rely on my powers if you guys get into big trouble. I can’t let any imperial know that I’m one of the ninja, and they definitely can’t know which elemental I am. Not only could it put my team in danger, but it could ruin the entire operation that’s coming up. I just can’t risk it. Even if…Even if one of you gets badly hurt, I won’t be able to step in with them. I’d be risking the freedom of all of Ninjago. I just can’t do it. I need you all to understand that.”

Ren had nodded for the team, who all gave Jay determined looks. “We know. We’re not here to use you as a crutch—we’re going to do it ourselves or not at all. If we fail, it’ll be our own fault, and our own mess to clean up. Do what you have to do.”

Jay hated that. He hated the entire idea of standing aside. But this wasn’t the first mission that he’d been forced to limit himself and it wouldn’t be the last. No matter what happened—he had to stay firm. But he wouldn’t have to worry about that, he hoped—the mission was an easy one and he could probably do it with his eyes close, his powers stripped, and one hand tied behind his back.

“Street’s still clear,” Jisoo said nervously. “No imperial backup.”

Jay wouldn’t expect there to be, yet, even if a silent alarm was tripped. But they were nervous—he’d give them some grace.

He closed his eyes while the others waited with baited breath.

He saw darkness. With his qi, his senses began to stretch out. The building was buzzing with electrical signals that bounced through every hallway and every room. As he reached out to feel them, he could pinpoint where their main information hub was stored, where there was a trooper sitting in front of security screens playing Ice Cream Crush, and where the receptionist was watching cat videos on BorgTube. He could sense where every trooper was walking within the building, he could even sense the rhythm of their gaits—the weak electrical signals within their nervous system lighting up in his consciousness like glowing balls of energy. He couldn’t quite manipulate them, but he could sense them.

He could sense everything within the garage, as well. He could sense the four men working together to carry boxes out from the back of the truck. Two boxes had already been unloaded. He could sense mechanical parts pushed to the side of the large room. He could sense the electricity running through the large supply truck, which was still on. He could also sense the trooper in the passenger seat, texting someone. There was a camera in the top left corner of the warehouse garage. The mechanics of the grinding door still held some leftover energy, slowly fizzling out.

It was like he could touch everything at once—blind, but all-seeing.

He opened his eyes, briefly grimacing at the brightness of the sun. Eyes closed, it was easier, but with eyes open, he could still sense every step of the men struggling under the weight of the boxes.

“We’re outside the door into the garage,” Minho said quietly. “We can see through the window—I count four guys. They’re opening the back and starting to unload.”

“Five guys,” Jay corrected. Ren glanced at him. “There’s a trooper in the cab of the truck.

The others shot him looks, but no one questioned him.

Darreth and Ren took out their blasters. Nobara put her tablet away. She pulled her blaster from it’s sheath and checked her energy carriage, then slipped the glowing cylinder back in with a click.

“Okay, we’re taking them down in three…two…” Darreth handed Ren a keycard and the young man quickly swiped it across the screen. “…one. Go, go, go!”

Ren slammed the door open. There was a loud crash as two of the troopers startled enough to lose hold of the crate they were carrying between them. They shouted briefly in surprise before blasterfire lit them up from the inside door of the garage. Ren rolled out and Nobara quickly followed, both of them popping off shots toward the surprised troopers as Satoshi and Minho caught them from the other side.

The trooper in the cab of the truck jerked upright, his chin strap taken off and hanging in his face. Jay sensed him drop his phone instantly and reach for his radio.

Jay lunged forward and touched the hood of the truck. A targeted electric charge shot through the metal of the hood and into the dashboard, which the man was touching. He instantly stiffened, his wide eyes meeting Jay’s above his mask. Then, the trooper’s eyes rolled back into his head and he went limp in his seat, sinking into his blasterproof vest.

The blasterfire quickly ceased. As many fights went, it was quick and brutal. He could feel all the troopers dropped in their surprise, his companions still up.

Jay rounded the truck and grabbed the strap of the trooper’s vest before jerking him out of the truck. He dragged the heavy body to a safe distance, propping him up against the wall of the garage. He’d wake up later and be fine. He looked younger than Jay. Jay wondered if his parents were waiting to hear back from him or if he’d been texting a girlfriend.

He left the kid there and went toward the back of the truck.

“Everyone okay?! Count off!” Ren shouted. “One!”

“Two!” Nobara called.

Then Minho, “Three!”

“Four!”

“Five!” Jisoo chimed in.

"I'm also good!" Darreth announced from somewhere.

“Let’s load these back up! Nobara?” Ren commanded.

Jay rounded the back. Like he’s sensed before, there were two crates completely unloaded and one halfway down the extended ramp. Minho and Satoshi were already grunting under the weight of the one on the ramp, trying to pull it back up.

Jay went for another one. He could immediately tell why Minho and Satoshi were struggling to lift theirs, despite Satoshi being a pretty strong guy. Even Jay grunted under the weight of one of the other ones, enhanced strength and all. What the hell was in these things? Should it really be this heavy?

“Ready to go!” Nobara shouted from the driver’s seat, the door to the cab slamming after her.

Jay tried to use his ability to look into the crate—but his powers weren’t able to extend into the box. What the hell? They were made on the wood on the outside, but they had to be lined with something to stop his senses—why were these boxes lined with lead?

He didn’t have time to ponder it. As he set his crate into the back of the truck, Satoshi and Minho jumping back down, the alarm began to blare. A flashing red light lit up throughout the garage, and as Jay could sense, the rest of the building. The blaster fight had clearly not gone unnoticed.

“Let’s get going!” Ren shouted, jumping into the passenger seat in the front.

One problem that they would notice too late—no one had been assigned to open up the garage again. It was still closed. Jay clicked his tongue, but now wasn’t the time to scold anyone about it. It barely took a flick of his finger for the mechanism to activate at three times the speed and the garage began to screech and groan as it flew open. Sunlight spilled into the garage, and the added sound of the outdoor alarms that were blaring.

Minho and Satoshi lifted up the last box for Jay and he grabbed it, pulling it in with a scrape of wood against metal. Satoshi slammed the ramp back into the lip of the truck and the climbed up—just in time for the door into the hallway to slam open. The two dove inside and Jay grabbed the doors and slammed them shut as blasterfire began to slam against the armored back of the supply truck.

“Nobara, floor it!” Minho shouted.

She did. The crates were heavy enough to stay steady, but Jay, Minho, and Satoshi slammed into the back doors as the accelerator shot them forward. They flew to the side as Nobara immediately made a sharp right turn, but the three of them were able to grab on a checkerboard of cargo straps bolted on the ceiling and the floor.

Inside the back of the truck, there were eight crated piled on one side, held against the side of the truck with the same black cargo straps they clung to. On the other side, the straps had been disconnected, hanging uselessly toward the front of the truck, and those crates groaned the the gravity that held them down. The cab of the truck opened into the back, so Jay was able to jump forward and lean between the seats.

“Go faster!” Ren insisted, looking at the side mirror as he clung to the dashboard. “Nobara!”

“The pedal’s on the floor!” She yelled back.

“Guys?!” Jisoo yelped over the comm.

“Meet us at the rendezvous!” Ren told her.

“No, it’s okay!” Jisoo said. “I’ve got an idea!”

“What—” Minho tried.

Jay held on to the headrest of Ren’s seat desperately as they were flung aside when Nobara made a tight turn onto the main road. The tires skidded across the pavement, but the truck was weighed down by the cargo in the back, slow to pick up speed.

Just after they completed the turn, there was a heavy thud on the rooftop. They all startled.

“I’m good!” Jisoo shouted and Jay heard double—from the comms and from the open driver’s window.

Nobara’s mouth dropped open and she leaned out the window. “Jisoo?!”

“Hi, Nobara!” Jisoo laughed like a madwoman high on adrenaline. “Oh my master, we are so good at this!”

“Holy shit, Jee,” Ren laughed along with her, and then Minho was laughing incredulously and Jay couldn’t help a shocked grin from forming on his lips.

Holy shit was right—that woman had just leaped from the corpse building to the rooftop of the moving truck. What the hell kind of instinct was that?

She was going to make a great rebel.

The troopers were slow to scramble cars behind them. By the time wailing sirens began, they were well down the street. The others began laughing, too, as they put more and more distance between them and the imperials. They’d—Wow, they’d done it quick. Not that it had been a hard job. They’d hijacked the post’s food supplies for the week and were planning on smuggling them to one of the bigger homeless camps on the east side of the city. It was both low-risk and emotionally rewarding, to encourage them as much as possible. It was supposed to make them feel like heroes.

And they’d done it. Jay was, dare he say, proud of them. He could see pride simmering under Darreth’s silence as they shared a look. This was the one time Jay could admit that they agreed on something.

“We did it!” Nobara said breathlessly, a grin on her face. “Take that, you fucking imperials!”

“Yeah, Cloud Team!” Minho raised a high-five for Satoshi to hit. The old man gave a weary smile and let the kid high-five him.

“Jisoo, hook yourself onto those bars with your grappling equipment,” Ren said, hand to his comm so that he could be heard over his team’s excitement. “We’re gonna take you all the way to the truck we stashed. When we’re there, we’ll make the transfer quick. They might find the truck, but they won’t ever know what happened to the cargo.”

“Aye-aye, Captain,” Jisoo said and they could hear metal clink against the rooftop.

“Hey,” Satoshi said. Behind the front seats, there was a short, flat metal piece with some equipment stuck to it for the handling of supplies. He pried off a crow bar, shooting Jay a frown. “These were heavier than they aught to be.”

Jay tilted his head, pulling his mask down just enough to get some fresh air. “Yeah, might as well check. Maybe the imps are just trying to make equipment harder to steal. There have been a lot of resistance raids the last few months.”

“What the…?” Ren abruptly said. The smile had melted off his face as he looked at his side mirror. “They’re stopping.”

Jay frowned and stepped passed Satoshi to look through the back windows. Satoshi grunted as he slid the crowbar under the wood of the crate.

Behind them, the cop cars that had been wailing their sirens farther behind abruptly turned their lights off and not only did they stop—they turned around and began to speed off the opposite way. That was quite a dramatic way to give up.

With a groan of exertion, wood popped away from wood. Jay felt a crate staple fly off and hit his gi. He turned around to lean over the crate with the rest of them.

Inside the crate was a metal box with a circular handle on top of it. Satoshi grabbed the handle. The man slowly twisted it ninety degrees and there was a thunk sound as it lined up with the release. Satoshi pulled the top off and tossed the metal plate of a lid to the side.

An ethereal blue glow filled the back of the truck. As soon as the lead-lined seal was broken, energy rushed Jay’s qi senses. He jerked back at the raw coil of electricity. Inside the box, there was a glowing cylinder, surrounded by wires, the cylinder itself larger than a shoe box. It was pure power—and from what Jay could sense, it was incredibly unstable. Like it was waiting for the right moment to rip itself apart.

It was a bomb. Jay had never seen anything like it.

Jay stepped back, his heart dropping into his stomach. His eyes jumped to the other fifteen crates bolted together around the back of the truck. They all sat, heavy and waiting.

Satoshi, Minho, and Darreth were looking at Jay with confusion.

“What?” Ren was trying to turn far enough to get a look. “What the hell? That’s not food supplies.”

“No. No, it’s not.” Shit, Jay thought. Shit! Fucking shit! “Mission’s a bust! We have to ditch this truck and get the hell out of here right now!”

Jay had no idea what they had just stumbled on—but a truck full of bombs marked as supplies on file meant nothing good. This was bigger than these guys were equipped to handle. Maybe if Jay had his team, maybe—but he didn’t. It was just him and these sorry joes who had stumbled onto something dangerous.

“Guys?” Nobara’s voice sounded unsteady. “Something’s weird. Does this street look a little empty to you?”

They all looked forward.

Not only had the trooper cars stopped and turned around—but it looked like everyone else had, too. There was no one out on the sidewalks, no one sweeping their porches, no sketchy hand-offs in any alleys they passed. There wasn’t a single car, automobile or hovercar. The street was barren. Dead. But it should have been time for everyone to come home from work—they’d planned it so that it would be a bit busier when they made the switch to their other truck.

Jay had thought that it had been as quiet as he’d ever heard the city before. Too quiet. He turned his wide eyes to the crates in the back and the team’s growing terrified looks—even Darreth was beginning to look unsure, clinging to the straps as he was. Had the empire somehow found out about their mission? Were they about to be blown up with experimental weaponry? If Jay was ambushing the enemy with a volatile bomb, Jay’s first step would be to clear the street.

No. Somehow it felt like that wasn’t it.

His chest clenched. A real, physical pain, brought on by a reaction from his qi, suddenly hit him. Jay gasped, a hand going up to ball his gi into his fist and hold, like he could pull the pain from his chest.

“Sunwalker!” Minho’s hands touched his shoulders. “What’s going on? Sensei, what’s wrong with him?”

“I don’t—” Darreth made a high pitched sound. “No idea!”

The world wavered. Jay felt like he was going to puke. What was that? What the hell was that presence pressing down on him? It felt like the most roiling, targeted rage he’s ever sensed in his life. It curled around his heart, taking his lungs hostage, like it could choke him with pure spite. Power. Choking, overwhelming.

“Stop the truck,” Jisoo suddenly said, voice slack with horror. She stole the words right from Jay’s mouth. “STOP THE TRUCK!”

Nobara slammed on the brakes. The tires screeched and smoke drifted as the back wheels of the truck briefly left the ground. There was a moment of weightlessness before BAM. They slammed back into the ground, making the bed of the truck bounce up and down. Jay grabbed onto Ren’s headrest again to stay on his feet.

“What is that?” Nobara’s voice trembled. Her pitch began to go up. “You guys, what is that? Ren? Sensei?”

Jay pulled himself upright. Minho, Satoshi, and Darreth crowded behind Jay as they all leaned down to look through the windshield.

It was in the sky, quickly descending. The closer it got, the larger it got. The larger it got, the louder it got. First, just the beats of it’s massive wings—reflecting blazing scales. Then, a roar that echoed from the sky down into the street.

“That’s a fucking dragon,” Ren said numbly.

Jay’s eyes were glued to it, even when it was still too small to make out anything along the back of the beast.

His mouth was suddenly as dry as the Dune Sea. “It’s not the dragon you should be scared of.”

It dropped with speed something that large shouldn’t have, it’s wings wrapping around itself and letting itself plummet, plummet, plummet, until it was the length of a semi-truck. Just before it hit the ground, WHOOOOM! It’s incredibly large wingspan threw itself out, stretching the length of the five-lane street. A cloud of dust and rocks kicked up, rolling towards them, and the truck shuddered as it was pelted against the windshield with small piece of the road.

As the dust cleared, the dragon raised it’s head taller that the two-level buildings around it. It’s massive head eclipsed the afternoon sun with a dark, twisted helm of metal hugging it’s skull. As it became visible to them, it coiled it’s head back before jutting it’s open maw toward them with a ROAR!

The truck shuddered again. Jay knew that if they had been outside the truck, the winds would have been hot enough to leave blisters.

“That’s not what we should be scared of?” Minho was ghost white. He looked about to pass out.

“What do we do?” Nobara asked, her hands making the steering wheel creak. “What the hell do we do?”

“What the fuck, I don’t know—What the fuck?” Ren could only stare forward.

Something moved beneath the dragon. It was difficult to see at such a distance, as the dragon had landed a good healthy hundred yards ahead of them—but Jay’s gut lurched. He felt qi energy reaching for them, not the dragon’s qi—something worse.

Then they all saw it—the figure armored in black walking toward them.

“Hey, Sunwalker, uh,” Minho nudges him. “You can beat him, right? You, uh, you have powers, too?”

“That is so not my job!” Jay defended.

“Oh, fuck no!” Nobara screamed, slamming the truck into reverse and they shot backwards, throwing everyone forward. Ren banged his head into the door.

The truck screeched and protested at the quick getaway. Just as fast as the dragon had landed, it took off again, leaving the figure behind. The shadow swooped over the truck even as they sped up and it crashed into the road behind them, making the world rumble again. Nobara quickly hit the brakes again, this time all of them braced and ready for it.

The truck swerved and almost spun in it’s haste to stop, but the weight of the back kept them grounded.

Harsh breathing filled the cab of the truck.

The dragon had ensured that the street was completely blocked. They were trapped between a rock and a deadly place.

“Screw it!” Nobara said. “I’m running this bastard over!”

“Nobara, no!” Minho jumped forward, but Nobara had already sent them careening toward the figure in black.

The rage-filled qi circled the truck’s engine, like a massive hand of invisible power. Jay was the only one who could feel their doom grab ahold of them.

“Stop—STOP! Out.” He grabbed Minho by the collar and shoved him toward the back, then punched Ren’s shoulder. “Everybody get out RIGHT NOW!”

No one wasted a moment to argue with him. The truck had barely skidded to a stop before Ren was tossing Nobara away from the wheel.

Nobara stumbled out of her door and Ren shoved his open with his shoulder. Satoshi full-on kicked the back doors open, which Jay would have been impressed with coming from a mortal in any other circumstances. They leaped out, Satoshi jerking Darreth out by the collar after him.

“RUN! Run and don’t stop!” Jay leaped out next, yelling, “JISOO, JUMP!”

Her face was shining with tears. Jisoo flung herself off the roof of the truck and into Jay’s waiting arms. The weight of a single woman was nothing to him and he quickly scooped her legs up, princess-style.

Before he ran after the rest of the team, Jisoo crying in his ear, he slapped the back doors of the truck. Electricity sparked around his hand, burning a print into the back door, and shooting through the truck. The heat building in the engine could already be felt as he began to run.

The truck’s electrics flickered to life and the accelerator went full-throttle despite the pedal remaining stationary. The truck shot toward the figure. Jay glanced back, Jisoo’s hair flying everywhere in his face. All Jay saw was a flicker of the black armor before the truck overtook his sight, tires screaming with a speed they couldn’t handle.

“We’re running toward the dragon?!” Ren shouted.

“YES!” Jay didn’t have an ounce of patience left in his bones.

Jisoo squeezed his neck, breathing too fast into his ear, panting in her panic—Satoshi and Ren were sprinting forward and to Jay’s right, Darreth was forward and to his left, and Jay was quickly overtaking Minho and Nobara—she was slowing down for her limping brother—The dragon roared ahead of them—

BOOM!

Jay went deaf, his eardrums blowing with the reverberation.

He was thrown forward off his feet with a painful wall of force. The world briefly turned upside down, and a moment later, he was blinded in his disorientation. Ash got in his mouth and pebbles pelted his skin. His bones felt like the piles of crushed aluminum cans that had littered the junkyard he’d grown up in. Now he knew what they felt like when he’d taken his parents’ monster trucks for a joyride through those innocent piles of garbage.

He found himself on the ground with his cheek pressed against the pavement. Get up, a voice whispered. Hurry!

He jolted, only realizing he’d lost ahold of Jisoo when his palms pressed against the street to push himself up. He scrambled to stand, stumbling as his head rung. It was like he was wearing headphones, only a long ringing allowed to go through. He grabbed his head through his mask, gathering his bearings.

His companions were slowly getting up. He stumbled forward to grab Jisoo’s arm and tug her upwards. She was sobbing, but he couldn’t hear, he could only see the way that her body heaved with them. She clutched onto him.

No one had been knocked unconscious, thank the master. He needed to get them the fuck out of here before—

He straightened, looking back. No way had he come out unscathed from—

Behind him, Minho was clutching his leg, Nobara next to him, screaming silently, trying to get him up.

Jay yelled, his own voice muffled, ‘Minho, move!’

Sounds slowly began to return, the first thing Jay being able to actually hear being the screeching-roar of the dragon, it’s eyes trained on the destruction of the crater. It had forgotten about them for a moment, looking to it’s master. Maybe Jay had done it. Maybe that had been enough.

Beyond the siblings, there was a crater that had taken a chunk out of the earth for itself. The bombs had damaged one side of the street all the way to the other, and they’d take a few chunks of building with them. Jay could only pray that no one had been caught later, but in the moment, he was too shocked to consider it. The crater wasn’t a shallow one, creating a new hill in Ninjago.

Ha. Haha! A delirious grin began to spread across Jay’s face, unhinged behind his mask. He didn’t need the others, they didn’t need a big plan, he didn’t even need to use his powers that much! He just needed a team full of newbies and a crazy truck full of insane bombs to stumble upon! He glanced over at Satoshi and Ren, who, helping each other to their feet, shared a shell-shocked look, then glanced back toward the explosion.

Their expression abruptly dropped. Jay looked back again. His adrenaline high paired with the explosion made him feel like he was watching from far away.

The dust was settling. On the lip of the crater, a black boot stepped up and out—then another. An arm swiped down lazily and the smoke parted like a curtain.

Behind it, a sash of red, like an open wound, wrapped around armor as dark as night. It did not gleam the way it did in imperial broadcasts, like that day that Zane’s father had been killed, like it was always freshly polished. No, now it was close to matte, swallowing light around it, sharp spiked shoulders, fingers like talons. The helm, oh, the helm was worse in person than Jay had ever seen it in holocasts. It looked twisted and melded, like the barring of teeth had changed to a rageful scowl, the pieces twisted and slightly not-right. Had the explosion done that?

But for it all, the figure only seemed angrier. Jay swore his eyes were glowing red with rage. The first thing that Jay could think was, What the hell could Jay have possibly done to this man to earn such a personal, unending hate from him?

The second was, I can’t beat him.

Even if Jay could risk using his full power, even if—he was the worst possible match-up for the Imperial Enforcer. Because lightening, his element, was a descendent of fire. Lightening was pure heat. Sure, Jay had found ways to affect electronics with it—but when it came to attack power, that was all he had access to. And heat was the Shogun’s greatest ally, no matter the kelvins Jay could reach. Put him up against General Morro, sure, he might be able to win—Nya? He stood a chance. Cole, almost definitely not.

The Shogun? No way in hell.

“GO!” He screamed, taking off at a sprint.

This time, no one made a peep about the dragon.

But Minho had hurt himself and Nobara could only clutch at his side, trying to be his extra leg. They were going slow, so slow—Satoshi and Ren were looking back at them, slowing down, not even able to fathom leaving anyone behind—Jisoo was sobbing in terror, wrapped around Jay’s throat.

“The alleys!” Satoshi’s deep voice shouted, him waving an arm for them to run in opposite direction. “Rendezvous!”

At the hidden truck—of course, they could split up, the Shogun wouldn’t be able to follow them all. He’d follow Jay—Jay could tell, the Shogun was looking at him, the rebel-hunter could sense his qi—the rest of them could get away.

But Minho and Nobara were going too slow. Jay skidded to a stop, too far ahead of them now.

He abruptly dropped Jisoo. Darreth rushed over to catch her side as Jay shoved the woman toward him. She clung to the sensei, both of them looking at Jay with wide eyes.

Jay turned around and took a single long stride toward the siblings—the Shogun, even walking, was gaining on them, like some sort of freak Terminator—was he even human? People asked, but Jay had always brushed the question aside. People wondered if Jay was human, after all. But this—

“SATOSHI!” Ren screamed.

The world slowed. Jay’s head turned to the side, his element rushing through him and allowing him to see his every failure in perfect detail.

A few lanes away, Ren was skidding to a stop. Satoshi had just been passing a taxi that was vacant and locked down on the side of the road—now, a long blade was burst through his chest. It was slicked with his blood, and a stained circle was slowly growing around the large man’s gut. He looked down before the blade abruptly—shink!—pulled out from his back. Blood spurted.

A kick from behind had the man falling forward as his expression went slack. Satoshi’s face crunched into the ground and most red created a halo around it.

Behind him, a slender form in a gi pulled herself upright, lined with a telltale orange, a reflective helm over her head. She wiped the blood from her blade onto the dark pants of her gi. The First General.

“NO!” Nobara screamed.

Ren screamed along with her, ripping his blaster from it’s sheath and beginning to let out a barrage of shots toward the woman. She was forced to leap behind the cover of the taxi that she’d been laying in wait behind. Ren’s shots burnt into the metal of the side, quickly mangling it, but unable to reach her.

Ren shouted in righteous, unhinged frustration, pressing forward, “Come out, you imperial bitch! You fucking coward!”

Jay’s run stumbled at the sight. But the Shogun had nearly reached the kids. Jay pushed off, leaving dust behind him.

“Come on, COME ON!” Nobara was sobbing at her brother.

“Leave me and go!” Minho shoved her off and she tripped forward. “Go, go!”

She jumped back to grab for him. “I won’t leave you!”

The Shogun pointed toward them with a clawed finger.

“Don’t TOUCH THEM—” Jay’s words were choked off.

Minho’s torso burst into flames.

Jay didn’t know which of them let out the more bloodcurdling scream—Minho, as he burned to death, or Nobara, as she watched.

The acidic smoke of hair and flesh shot right through Jay’s mask, even at the distance. Minho, eighteen-years-old Minho, who had just had a taste of freedom, who had just gotten back to his mom, Minho, Minho, Minho, flailed around, completely bathed in the flames. Jay couldn’t even see his open mouth through the flames, his spiked hair gone.

Nobara lunged forward, like there was something she could do, but she was still screaming, long and drawn out, like a banshee of myth. Abruptly, the fire went out—the corpse that had been Minho dropped like a stone in front of her, cutting off the scream so abruptly, it was like Jay had lost his ability to hear again.

His top half was utterly blackened by the unnatural heat of the flame. His fingers were curled up and backwards, his face a burnt, wrinkled-skin-covered skeleton, lips still open in a scream.

The Shogun’s stride did not even waver.

“Nobara, move!” Jay yelled, desperate. He was so close—!

Nobara screamed with a fury and tore a long, serrated knife from her belt, charging forward and leaping onto the Shogun, knife stabbing downwards in a flash. As she did, the Shogun swiftly grabbed her by the neck and hauled her back—but her knife pinged uselessly against his expensive armor regardless. She didn’t seem to notice—screaming like a feral animal and bringing the knife down again and again, until a dent was made, and then two on his chest plate. He didn’t move, but for the squeeze of her throat.

Finally, the lack of air got to her. She was forced to drop the knife, beginning to instead gasp like a fish, hands falling onto the grip around her neck. She tugged and tugged, kicking and trying to plant her feet on the Shogun’s chest to shove, but he was unmoving.

Ren roared anew at the threat toward the girl, turning the mouth of his blaster on the monster that held the kicking and screeching Nobara. He let off three shots in quick succession—the Shogun merely lifted his unoccupied hand and the shots hit his glove, fizzling away into nothing at the contact. The blaster shots might have been compressed plasma, but all that was just…more heat. Useless.

Jay couldn’t possibly shout a warning. Even with his sped up senses, he was too focused on Nobara.

The woman moved like a shadow, in speed and grace. Her blade whooshed through the air. A perfect horizontal strike. This time, the First General didn’t have to clean any blood off.

Ren’s arm sagged, his mouth and eyes dropping wide open, instantly devoid of life. The blaster dropped to the ground. A line of red appeared across his neck.

Ren’s body collapsed to it’s knees. As his head detached and rolled forward, his torso fell back into an unnatural stretch, arms splaying out. His earpiece crunched against the ground. Blood began to pump from his headless body, long, wet organs of the throat spilling out. Ren’s head slowly rolled to a stop, staring, wide-eyed, toward the blackened corpse.

Nobara couldn’t make a sound if she wanted to, eyes rolling back into her head after witnessing the scene. Her face was bright red, lips turning blue. Her struggles grew weak and uncoordinated, until—

“NO!” Fuck it! Fuck his orders! Fuck protecting his identity! This couldn’t, under any circumstances, be the right thing to do!

Lightening filled him, extending through every limb, filling every orifice. There was a crack! not caused by static this time, rather caused by the raw speed that his foot caused pushing against the ground. The pavement split behind him.

In a snap, he was in front of the Shogun, hands wrapping around Nobara’s arms. He couldn’t save the others, but he would save her!

And another crack. This one, he hadn’t caused.

With a twist of the Shogun’s fist, Nobara’s body went limp, her head ninety degrees the wrong way. Her small noises stopped. Her bob haircut hung from her head sweaty and separated, so they looked like the wires of a circuit board torn from it’s mainframe.

Jay could only freeze. The Shogun opened his fist and Nobara’s body fell backwards into Jay’s arms. She was soft—she’d worn a sweatshirt beneath her vest. He head lolled the wrong way against Jay’s shoulder.

The world felt numb.

Bile rose up his throat.

The Shogun waited for Jay to suffer in his grief.

Jay…slowly took a step back and laid Nobara’s body down onto the ground. A few feet away from her brother’s. He laid her down gently, distantly wishing she had something soft to put behind her head.

It felt like an insane thought. Her eyes stared into nothing. Her head was boneless. She wasn’t uncomfortable. His hands trembled, cupping the back of her head and her forehead.

“She was sixteen,” he said numbly.

He remained crouched by her head. A moment passed. If Jay didn’t know any better, he’d say it was some sort of respect. Or, in some insane turn of fate, regret. But Jay did know better. Monsters couldn’t understand what those things meant.

“Perhaps your rebellion should learn to stop sending children to fight their doomed battles.”

His voice grated on Jay, it was so wrong, deep and mechanical, but inconsistent. Like whatever machine that was producing it was mutilated. He couldn’t tell if the modulator had glitched, or if the monster had meant to put emphasis on the word ‘children.’

And the words allowed Jay to understand how a person could feel as much rage as the Shogun seemed to.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t have killed her, you insane piece of scrap!”

There was a reason that he couldn't use his power and give away that he and his team has survived, but there wasn’t a reason that Jay couldn’t give the Shogun the beating of his miserable lifetime.

Jay let out a battle cry and lunged forward.

Instincts took control. His fists were faster than any other, with the lightening filling his veins—the Shogun might be strong, might be powerful, but no one could hope to keep up with Jay outside of the Master of Speed himself.

He landed a punch under his rib cage—the Shogun grunted—he flashed to the man’s other side, his fist rocketing into his armor—a dent grated into the plate mail. The armored man let out a forced breath and stumbled back a step with the hit.

Jay’s wrist wrappings caught on fire, burning the blue away. Without wasting a second, he grabbed the cotton and tore them from his hands, tossing them away. He barred his teeth under his mask.

The fire from the cotton burst into larger flames and stretched, running across the pavement until they made the clear outline of a circle around them. Before the fire burst to life, the First General stepped across the line. Then, the outline became a wall of flame ten feet tall. The heat was instant and gripping, quickly beginning to strip the strength from Jay’s bones.

He looked around, his rage pierced through with his logic. What the hell was the Shogun doing? Why wasn’t Jay being burned to death the way that Minho had been? Unless the Shogun couldn’t for a reason Jay couldn’t imagine, then the Shogun didn’t want to. Which means…he wanted Jay alive.

They wanted him alive.

Images of Kai screaming, images of Kai in the center of some oni-cult circle, pain twisting his face as his element was slowly stripped from his soul at all of fifteen years old.

Jay could almost feel the ghostly hands of his old friend pulling him back, whispering, Run you fucking stupid idiot dumbass! Can’t you see he wants you angry? Can’t you see you’ve been backed into a corner? Aren’t you supposed to be one of the smart ones?! You’re going to end up like me!

The Shogun loomed towards him. His pet general stepped around to circle Jay’s other side, if it hadn’t been clear enough that he had nowhere to run.

Good thing running wasn’t his only option.

He turned to keep them both in his vision, a hand held out both of their ways. “Well, I’d say it’s been nice, but I actually hate you both—especially you—and when you die one day, I’m not going to stop at spitting on your grave, I’m shitting on it. Sayonara.”

He saluted, turned the two fingers towards the man and shot the Shogun with a finger-gun—he wished he could see the bastard’s face to get his reaction—then leaped with all of his might. Even the Shogun could only turn up his furnace so high. Probably. The ground shuddered behind him, the force of his jump making the flames tremble.

Though Jay’s logic had forced him to see clearly, it failed him when it came to…remembering the dragon. The big red guy had just been such a good silent audience for so long that Jay had completely forgotten about it.

Up until he was consumed by a jet of white-hot flames. Like a geyser bursting to life, giving him only enough time for his eyes to blow wide, it hit him and Jay was pummeled back down to the earth. His every orifice erupted in pain with the sensation of burning, mostly the revealed skin of his nose ridge and fingers. He might have screeched, but he couldn’t tell if the fire had poured down his throat, or if he’d simply breathed it in.

The jet of flames stopped and he groaned, but felt the front of his gi be grabbed. Weightlessness became him—before he was just as suddenly slammed back down into the pavement. His back exploded with pain, making him black out for a moment. The street cracked and splintered under him, rocks exploding upwards. The world spun. His body trembled with the amount of pain he felt. He could feel his skin where the hand was clutching him being boiled. He opened his mouth to scream, but a weak sound escaped.

Two blurry forms loomed over him.

The only reason he had lived through being blind sighted by that, he knew, was the same reason he couldn’t lick the Shogun if he were to try. Jay had been gifted with heat resistance. Not immunity. First Master forbid the creator give him that mercy. But, as a descendant of fire, he had resistance. So that he could continue to live in his miserable existence.

At least his fire-resistant gi had protected his body somewhat and only a few holes had probably been burned in it.

Great, he thought deliriously. His back ached. He couldn’t move. His body refused to. Everything was blurry.

He gasped a choke as his arm was roughly jostled. There was a tearing sound—the Shogun held up a tattered blue arm-band to show Jay what he had just done.

“This blue doesn’t belong to you,” the Shogun rumbled, that horrible oni mask getting far too close to him.

I’m pretty sure it does, Jay thought. He wanted to laugh at himself. He sounded silly, even in his brain. This guy’s insane. I’m gonna die.

I don’t want to die. I have to marry Nya. I want to see my parents. This would be too embarrassing. Kai will bully me in the afterlife if I die here.

Jay’s eyes flickered towards the clouds in the sky. They were beautiful today. What a shame. Kai, are you still watching? I don’t want to die. Don’t let it happen. Please.

Jay thought, for a moment, that he saw his old friend’s eyes. Was he drifting to the afterlife?

But no, it was just the Shogun, now hovering close enough to him that Jay could see them. Orange. A halo of gold. Human eyes. Huh. I guess he’s human after all.

“Help me,” Jay slurred, his eyes drifting passed the Shogun. His eyes were already filled with tears—from the pain. But now he was scared. “Kai—please…”

I’m not ready, yet.

The Shogun jerked back.

When the monster moved his helm, the light of the sun reflected on something. The clouds were shaped in such a way that they almost framed the reflection. As if to say, Look right here, Jay. Catching Jay’s eye, he focused—and saw. It was a lamppost, directly above him, hanging over the road.

Beneath his mask, which was left uncharred, Jay smiled drunkenly. Thanks Kai. Join you another day.

One moment, the Shogun had a grip on Jay’s gi, holding him into the ground as he reached for his mask, Jay in too much pain to even imagine moving, much less stop him.

The next moment, the Shogun was holding onto an empty gi, which deflated in his very hands.

The Shogun stared down at the empty gi for a long moment, as if not believing his own eyes. Then he quickly stood up, the wall of flame disappearing completely, as if Jay had somehow snuck out of his clothes in his state and ran away. The Shogun didn’t see anything. The First General looked around, just as startled. Even the looming dragon seemed confused.

A growling sound reverberated from the Shogun’s voice-modulator and the gi burst into flames in his hand.

Neither he, nor his pet general had noticed the thin zap of electricity that had jumped from Jay’s clothes up into the wiring of the lamppost’s light. The light flickered above them briefly, but in the afternoon sunlight, neither so much as glanced up.

The pain was a thing of the past. Gravity was a thing of the past. The sluggishness of his meat-bag, the gradual firing of synapses in order to form thoughts, and the mediocre reaction of his limbs in response to command all became a foreign concept. Jay was living electricity. A length of energy condensed and thin, hovering among the other particles that powered the city, differentiated only by his makeup of qi rather than electrons and their movements.

As he was, he could feel and access every point of electricity connected to the grid of the city. He jumped to a blow-dryer being plugged in while a woman was doing her hair in the bathroom. A lamp was turned on over a man’s carefully constructed train sculpture. A heating unit was activated when an apartment across the city reached too low of a temperature.

With every appliance turned on, anywhere attached to the grid, Jay’s form was tugged further and further apart, the electricity around it attempting to synthesize and use his energy as the grid he was in demanded. He could move anywhere, but he was pulled everywhere.

It would be so easy to let go, he could feel. It was a fight upstream in a boat full of holes with spoons as his only paddling device. The longer he spent in the grid, the lower he sunk into the river, until it wouldn’t matter how much he paddled. He had to get out fast.

But it would be so easy to stay. He wouldn’t have to return to the pain. He wouldn’t have to go back to thinking so slow, moving so slow, living a life that, at the end of the day, would be the same as the one in the grid. It would be satisfying to fulfill the purpose that the rest of the electricity was going to fill. It was the right thing to do.

He fought. Nya. He fought harder. His parents. Harder. Cole and Zane. Harder.

Jisoo and Darreth.

He could hear their voices echoing somewhere as he focused on them. He zipped and zoomed through the electrical grid—through other lampposts, security cameras, alleyway porch lights. Not here, not here, not here. They’d escaped, he’d saved them, where were they? He had to make sure they were okay.

“—at do we do?”

She was still sobbing. She’d been sobbing before—he could hardly picture memories in his form, but he knew they should be there. Shouldn’t they? What had she been upset about? He needed to go further down the street, the stream of the grid was tugging him, it needed him—

No!

“I don’t know,” Darreth’s voice was still high-pitched with shock. “I don’t know. Do you think they’ll follow us?”

“How am I supposed to know?” She choked up another sob.

There. There.

An alleyway. A lamppost, like the one he’d entered through, was right outside of the alleyway. There voices were echoing from inside.

He needed to get out. He should stay. He needed to go. Stay. No, he wouldn’t!

Jay clawed himself from the clutches of the electrical grid before it could scatter his molecules so far from each other that he lost himself forever. Emergencies only. Emergencies only.

Sparks shattered the light of the lamppost, making both Darreth and Jisoo startle and glance over. They’d managed to get away, it appeared, at some point between Jay shoving Jisoo toward Darreth and Jay’s attack on the Shogun. They were only a few blocks down from where the imperial commander and general still stalked the street, trying to find Jay’s body.

The process of Jay’s body reforming was painful, but fast. His electrical energy jumped from the light to the ground, coiling and coiling and coiling, until he formed a human-shaped core of living electricity, throwing off sparks and cracking against pavement. He drew outside electricity from the grid, causing the buildings around the lamppost to lose power as the glowing being slowly grew flesh and his glow dimmed.

And what was left was a young man with his hair singed, covered in burns and bruises, and naked as the day he was born. He had one glorious moment of being human again before the pain hit him like a clown car cement truck that the clowns were causing to bounce up and down with every roll of the tire. Suffice to say—not fun.

Neither was the way his brain was scrambled after he traveled as pure electric qi. Nya and his brothers had found it funny in the past. They called the symptom Airhead Jay. He was apparently sappy and emotional and spouted random animal names half the time. Jay wouldn’t know. And honestly, he would rather never learn.

Jay stumbled forward on new legs, caught by arms—Darreth, he thought, his vision wavering. He pouted at them, most likely started crying, all with a goofy look on his face. He didn’t really know what he said—he felt high off of his ass, even with the pain. Darreth took off a layer of his gi for Jay’s decency—oh, how sweet of him, maybe Darreth wasn’t so bad after all!—Ow, ow, ow, why did Jay have to hurt so bad?

They said something about Nagas and secret entrance, oh man Jay must have been in a spy movie for there to be secret entrances…where did his girlfriend go?…ow, ow, ow…

He didn’t know what happened after that.

-

The texture under his hands was the first thing he processed. Ribbed fabric pressed into one side, his hand pinned between it and his body. His other hand lay against his own chest, lifted with each of his own breaths. It quickly made him realize that it was far from pain-free to breathe—there was a certain weight around his lungs, forcing him to put in extra effort. That weight began to slowly pull the curtain back to reveal the aching throb of what had once been a stabbing pain. His face twisted into a grimace. That, too, caused some irritation.

He was propped slightly up. He twitched his thumb, then ran it over his chest—bandaged, but otherwise bare. He took a deep breath and this one came easier. His eyes felt crusted shut, and his head was already throbbing, but he forced his eyelids up anyway.

The light of the room was gentle. He blinked a few times as the beating migraine began to recede just a bit.

“Hey, hero.”

A light hand touched the back of his. He pried his other one from between his body and the—couch?— and rubbed his eyes.

The most beautiful woman he’d ever known hovered over him. Her eyes were sad, sparkling with the blues and greens of the deepest lakes, and he could get lost in them no matter the time. She was smiling. That was bittersweet, too, but the smile was there. Her hair was wet from a recent shower, hanging over her shoulders, her bangs sticking to the sides of her forehead.

She smelled fresh, like an ocean breeze. He breathed in deep, a faint smile curling his lips. His eyes slid shut again.

He loosened his fingers, catching hers and gently intertwining them. “Hey, princess. I missed you.”

His voice was gravelly and far from romantic. Still, her voice skipped as she squeezed his hand. “I missed you, too.”

A dry tingling at the back of his throat made his shoulders heave up as he coughed. He braced himself for the burning pain, but only an achy, week-old thing followed. It was spread on his chest, under the bandages, where the Shogun had grabbed him, and along his back, where he’d been slammed into the ground. Other than that, there were only a few hints of nicks or bruises that he could live with.

Nya helped him sit up enough to hand him a glass of water, holding the back of his neck up as she fussed. The world was slowly settling around Jay as he drank—then his brain abruptly turned on.

He pulled the glass down, rubbing his face again and staring at Nya with wide eyes.

“Wait a minute—how long was I out?!” Did he entirely miss Operation Dawn Break?!

“Whoa, relax,” she put a hand on his chest, trying to push him back down. He only let himself fall against the back of the couch he had been laying on. “It’s been about sixteen hours, from what they told us. You weren’t in great shape and you fried your brain again. Let yourself recover.”

“But—how are you back already? You guys just left yesterday. The trip to the Realm portal should have taken a half a day’s travel on it’s own.” Jay pinched the bridge of his nose. An herbal cinnamon scent drifted under his nostrils. He opened his eyes. “…Where are we?”

He didn’t know if the room felt so other worldly because he was still a little woozy, or if that incense lit in the corner had some calming capabilities. He was sitting on an old couch with a knitted blanket over his legs, a shin-height coffee table set out before the couch. On the table, there was a collection of six or so mugs filled with different levels of different liquids, the mugs themselves mismatched in shape and color. Nya was sitting beside the couch on a pillow, in slippers, sweatpants, and a cropped hoodie that she’d tied the strings of below her chin.

The room seemed to be some sort of sitting room with a couch and a loveseat, but it was full, wall-to-wall, with shelves of books, tomes, scrolls, and boxes. It looked like some sort of bookworm’s dream, or maybe the home of a very guru-like librarian. There were some plants that hung from the ceilings and were stacked around the room and on the shelves—which didn’t make sense, because there were no windows, and by the musty smell behind the incense, Jay gathered the distinct impression that they were somewhere underground. The plants didn't seem to mind the lack of sunlight.

There was a single doorway, covered by a hanging tapestry, and a hallway that branched off in a direction that Jay couldn’t see. There were quiet voices coming from the hall.

“We’re safe,” Nya assured him seriously. “It’s Mystake’s place. After she healed you as best she could when you guys showed up at Nagas, she offered for us to squat in her basement for a while. The council didn’t think it would be a good idea for you to stay in the caverns to heal—they didn’t want rumors spreading that one of us got hurt.”

“But—you—here—how?” Jay asked, exasperated. “Did you guys turn back? What happened to finding Firstbourne and negotiating with her?”

They needed the dragons for Operation Dawn Break. The dragon queen was the only one who could organize the chaotic race to help them. The resistance wouldn’t have risked sending the ninja away a week before the coup unless it was absolutely vital.

“No, we got there, alright,” Nya sighed. She pulled her hand away to set them into her lap, limp. “There’s some sort of time dilation that happens between Realms. We were in Tengo-No for three weeks. We thought it would be too late by the time we got back, but…only a few hours had passed.”

“Three weeks?” Jay gaped.

On closer inspection, Nya looked…well, utterly exhausted. There were deep bags under her eyes, which were bloodshot. Her lower lip had split and she looked a bit gaunter than she had only a day ago. Her shoulders were slumped low, where they were usually held high.

He reached a hand out, ignoring the slight tremble his buzzing limb held, and cupped her cheek with his hand to bring her head back up. Her cheek was cold with her wet hair pressed against it.

He smiled at her drawn expression. “I’m glad you’re okay. That sounds like it sucked majorly.”

She snorted. “Yeah. It was a little dicey on the way out. Commander Kuzo and his statues were still on high alert after we’d slipped their guard going in. Cole got clipped, but we turned out pretty well for being in a dragon realm for three weeks.”

“What about the oni?” He asked, pulling back. “Those bastards agree to come pick up their lost dog with rabies?”

“Yeah—no. The oni were all gone.” Nya frowned again. “We have no idea what happened to them, but their cities were abandoned. They looked like they had been for a long time.”

“What?” Jay’s mouth dropped open. “But that doesn’t make sense. Garmadon showed up seventy years ago. A race of demons can’t be entirely wiped out in seventy years!”

“Maybe they can,” Nya shrugged. “They were in a never-ending war with dragonkind—the dragons could have won. Or maybe they were already dying off and that was why Garmadon came to our side of the portal. We just…don’t know. But forget about that for a minute.”

“Wha—OW!”

Nya punched him in the arm, and none too gently. He pouted and rubbed at his bicep. But as her relief had slowly faded, a concerned annoyance had taken it’s place on her face. She crossed her arms and frowned at him.

“I’m recovering!” He defended.

“That was for trying to take on the Shogun and one of his generals alone. You could have died. You almost did! What in the realm were you thinking?”

“I didn’t go out looking for the guy! He found me!”

“You could have zapped away before this happened!” Nya gestured at his bandaged chest with a tight expression. “Why didn’t you? Why would you risk it?”

“I—” Jay stopped.

Her eyes bore into his, a certain desperation in them that said ’you could have died without me and then what was I supposed to do?’ He’d assumed her eyes had been bloodshot from too little sleep. After all Nya was strong, she didn’t let things get to her, she worked hard—too hard—to keep herself from showing weakness. But had she cried for him? When coming back from weeks away from home, only to find him comatose and requiring magic healing?

At the same time, he realized that he didn’t have an answer for her either way. Because they were trained over and over again to do exactly what he had warned those rebels he would do—if things looked dicey, he was supposed to look out for himself first, because had to live. Because he was more important than a normal rebel. He understood that strategy—conceptually.

But actually being with them, with anyone trying to make the same changes he was trying to make…he could never truly internalize anything like that. He wasn’t better than them. He was just a guy who had happened to be born different. They hadn’t chosen to be mortals—and he hadn’t chosen to have the gifts he did. To be the person who abandoned his friends.

“I couldn’t,” Jay said quietly. “I couldn’t just leave them behind. The same way that I don’t think any of us could. That’s not who we are. Isn’t that what makes us different? Better?”

“Jay…” Her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes tilted up sadly.

“I know,” he murmured. “We’re at war. Being better people doesn’t win us wars.”

Misako had told them over and over again. Mystake had told them every time they’d come in for healing. Hell, even Wu-sensei had impressed it upon them, despite all of his other teachings.

“Besides…” He looked down. “They all died anyway. Right in front of me. And I couldn’t do a thing.”

“That’s not true,” she reminded him gently. “You saved Darreth’s life. And that other girl—they’re safe in Nagas, now, because of you. Don’t their lives count for something?”

Jay thought. Blood flashed before his vision. Dead eyes.

For a moment, he considered telling Nya who the rebels had been. That two of them had been the kids she’d saved a few weeks ago—how good of people they had turned out to be…No. He couldn’t do that to her.

He felt sick. He clutched his stomach. He shouldn't know what the inside of Ren's head looked like. He shouldn't know what caused a corpse to be so perfectly mummified the way Minho's had been.

But he shook his head, thinking of Jisoo’s excited laugh and Darreth’s stupid trophy case. They were okay. He’d done that much. Those two had their entire lives ahead of them thanks to him—he hoped, anyway.

If he focused on the bad, the weight of this world would crush him. He’d learned that lesson long ago.

“Yeah,” he sighed. He strengthened his voice. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“You weren’t the one that killed them.” Nya’s voice was dark. “He was. He’s to blame for what happened, not you.”

“…Nya.” Jay’s nerves hardened with resolve. He looked into her eyes. “We need to take that guy down for good. I promised I’d desecrate his grave, so preferably he dies before me.”

Nya’s fierce eyes fell protectively towards his wounds. “Don’t worry. The Shogun won’t see another week. Not unless I’m cold in the ground.”

Despite that harsh picture painted, Jay was reassured.

“Wow, making vows of murder and vengeance at eight in the morning, sensei would be so proud.”

Both of them startled, looking up toward the mouth of the hallway. Cole limped out from the mystery recesses of Mystake’s basement, grunting with effort as he waddled across the room. He had a T-shirt, but white bandages were sticking out from beneath the leg of the gym shorts he wore. He slapped one of Jay’s feet and Jay pulled his legs up with only a small wince.

Cole settled down hard, sighing in relief as he sat. The collection of mugs scattered on the coffee table caught his eye. He leaned forward and began picking through the mugs of various drinks until he picked out the one he apparently wanted.

The three weeks in the wild were much more apparent in Cole—not only because of his matching eyebags with Nya, but because he hadn’t shaved. A half inch beard had grown, as dark as the rest of his mop of hair, which was mostly pulled back by a hair tie. He looked older, and wiser. Jay had seen him in stubble before, but this was going all in.

“You should be resting,” Nya scolded him. “If you’re still limping, you haven’t let the tonics do their jobs yet.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Cole waved her away, cradling a cold mug. “But you try sharing a room with Zane these days and see how long you last. Good to see you alive, man. I’m assuming Nya already lectured you about being stupid?”

“Yes, she did.” Jay gave a sarcastic nod. “Thanks. Nice beard.”

“Thanks,” Cole deadpanned back and attempted to drink the dark liquid from the mug. He choked immediately, pulling it away with a look of disgust. He handed it to Nya. “That one’s yours.”

“I’m not going to drink black coffee cold—here,” Nya rolled her eyes, plucked another mug from the mass, and passed it off to him. “Extra vanilla. Also cold, now. Do you think Mystake has a microwave upstairs?”

“We’re on basement arrest until sensei gets back, so I think I’d just be sad if she did.”

Cole threw back the remaining inch of probably disgustingly old and sweet coffee. Jay couldn’t say anything, though—he had a habit of leaving his coffee for hours on end while he was working before suddenly remembering it existed.

Nya set up some extra pillows behind Jay for him to properly sit up without having to put much effort in. Cole let Jay rest his feet in his friend’s lap, which Cole had no idea how helpful it really was for Jay’s aching back.

“Zane’s still being weird?” Jay asked, shifting until he was comfortable. “You guys were gone so long…that means it’s been, like, two months. He’s still refusing to turn his emotions back on?”

Cole and Nya shared a concerned look. Nya glanced toward the hallway, as if to make sure their android friend was not laying in wait to listen to them.

“Yeah,” Nya sighed. “If anything, it got worse while we were there.”

Cole added, with exhaustion in his voice, “Every time we got in a fight with the locals over there, he came to the conclusion that he reacted more efficiently without emotions. He’s convinced himself that he can protect people better by not feeling anything. We were waiting to get back, but we’re definitely going to have to organize an intervention soon. I wish we had time to before Dawn Break—Pixal’s gonna be heartbroken to see him like this.”

“Maybe it’s for the best,” Nya shrugged. “Just for the coup, I mean. At least one of us won’t have to be so worried.”

“Isn’t being worried what keeps you alive?” Jay thought aloud.

They shared a tired silence. In the basement of Mystake’s shop, they were isolated from the sounds of the city that lay above them. All that was left was their own breathing, the shifting of Nya’s legs, and a distant hum of an ancient heating unit chugging away.

Death had always been real to them. Having elemental powers was the equivalent to loss due to their nature. Their biological parent had to die in order for them to gain their abilities, after all. Grief came with the package.

And then Kai, not to mention all of the other rebels they’d come to know and lose over the years. Zane’s dad included, and, most recently of all…Minho. Nobara. Ren. Satoshi.

It would be too easy for one of them to die on any mission, even as well-trained as they were. Especially with Operation Dawn Break quickly approaching. For the first time in ten years, they’d be facing the monster that had already killed one of them. Now, he’d have the help of the Shogun, and General Morro, and the other generals. It wouldn’t be an impossible scenario for one of them to die in the next few days. In fact, it wouldn’t even be a surprise.

With that being well-known to all of them, even if they hadn’t talked about it, yet…Zane’s lack of self-preservation was terrifying, even more so than his lack of empathy.

Jay wasn’t looking to lose any more brothers.

“…Let’s talk to him tonight,” Cole suggested after the charged silence.

Nya and Jay nodded.

Nya tapped Jay’s arm. Jay glanced down, eyes tired.

“You should try to rest your body more,” she told him. “If you can’t sleep, just close your eyes for a bit. We’ll be here the whole time.”

Jay did still feel utterly spent. All of this information dumping on his head was making him tired despite laying on the couch the entire time.

“You’ll wake me when sensei gets back?”

She smiled and nodded, leaning forward to rest her chin on the couch. Her cheek pressed against his leg. Jay sighed and wiggled further into the cushions supporting him. Cole adjusted his legs into a more comfortable position in his lap.

Jay closed his eyes. Nya and Cole were quiet and content, the former clearly needing rest as much as Jay did, while Cole silently scrolled on his phone. It was a perfectly peaceful place that Jay should have been able to rest. Proximity had always made him feel safe enough to conk out instantly.

This time, even with his healing body, he found it difficult. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the dead bodies. He felt Nobara’s limp form hugged between his arms, the weight of Ren’s scream when Satoshi was run through. Jisoo’s sobbing face, the emotionless reflection of the First General’s helmet.

And those eyes. Jay couldn’t stop thinking about them. The hatred within them, sure, and the scar he’d seen. He almost hadn’t been able to notice the smaller, faded one over the Shogun’s right eye, too distracted by the more intense wound healed over on his left side. But the prick above his right eye…it had looked very old. Like a childhood scar. How had Jay even noticed that? Why was he still thinking about it?

He tried to banish it all. It didn’t work. Sleep was pushed to the back of his mind by the swirl of everything that should never have happened that day.

Chapter Text

There was blood pooling in his mouth. He did not mind the taste at this point. He no longer even noticed when it dried on his chin and made it itch. The only thing about it that bothered him anymore was the way that it began to slide down the wrong side of his throat, making him cough and wheeze, both of which were terrible, considering he already couldn’t breathe.

His legs kicked at empty air. He began to feel woozy and lightheaded, but was unfortunately grounded to the realm by the pain building and building and building in his chest as air was blocked from his lungs.

The fingers around his throat clutched tighter every second, vicelike and unyielding. The weight of his body and the pressure of gravity didn’t let up. His body began to go numb, starting at the tips of his fingers. He clutched onto the arm desperately, but the bare radius and ulna bones of the forearm didn’t provide a stellar grip. Darkness closed the edges of his vision.

Being young as he was, he foolishly used the last of his air to scream hoarsely, “Fuck you!”

He threw a leg up to crunch through the rib cage of the boneman holding him hostage. His boot snapped straight through a handful of ribs, which flew from the torso of the boneman. The boneman, much to his chagrin, did not react in the slightest. In fact, it’s grip grew tighter, it’s glowing eyes unchanged as they bored into him.

He tried to swing his leg back out. The sound of tearing fabric, but nothing more. His foot was trapped inside the rib cage, his pants caught on the jagged edge of a newly broken rib bone. He jerked at his foot, but it remained pinned.

He tugged more frantically, gasping and gaping like a fish out of water, pulling at the arm holding him, but he was fading fast, losing strength—the splinters of rib bones began to glow a sickly purple and tremble on the ground.

Tears of panic brimmed his eyes and he swung his other leg backwards to get some momentum away from the boneman, but no luck. He was stuck.

The splinters of glowing bone began to hover and then floated upward toward their rightful place, until they were shooting into the boneman’s ribcage, like the world’s most powerful magnets. The splinters of bone, of course, did not care what could be in their way.

The splinters punched through his pants, his boots, his lower calf and the meat of his foot—he couldn’t count how many, he had no idea, all he knew was the explosion of pain and the spurt of red.

Columns drilled into him, through muscle and tendon and perhaps bone. It felt as if his leg and foot were being sawn off. He couldn’t even scream, the boney fingers squeezing tighter. A sound of animal agony escaped. Then, even the blackening pain became detached from him.

“You…” the boneman grated. “Lose.”

He thought he could hear the physician’s cry before darkness engulfed his vision and his body became weightless.

For a moment, he was nowhere. And it was a relief.

He was snapped back, like a taunt rubber band after the tension was released.

This time, it was his hands around a neck. The feeling of being choked persisted. The tighter he squeezed, the more his airway was cut off. But he didn’t let go. No. He had a job to do and these people—these insects—were getting in his way. After all this time, after he’d finally found one of them. One of the worthless tools of the rebellion that the death of his family had made way so comfortably for.

So, he squeezed. Even as the woman’s struggling became lazy and as tears cut through the ash on her face. Her bangs stuck to her forehead with sweat.

“She’s sixteen!” The ninja shouted.

Kai blinked. He hadn’t thought about how young she looked. He’d been blinded in his anger. But even now, his fist still tightened. Would it have mattered, then? He didn’t kill children. They were stupid and used and easily manipulated, like he had once been. They weren’t a threat. But this girl was hardly a girl. She was older than Kai had been that day. He, compared to Emperor Garmadon, was providing her with a kindness.

Still, the ninja screamed with pain when the girl’s neck suddenly snapped. Kai flinched. It hadn’t been him this time—his fingers had loosened as he’d thought—but, as if fate had intervened, he’d felt the crack of bone under his fingers.

The ninja screamed and Kai twitched again. “She’s thirteen!”

It was no longer a ninja. It was no longer a man. It was a boy, in a ninja’s costume. His cheeks still held chub. There were freckles across his face, unruly, frazzled hair, smeared with grease. The boy was forever cursed to be reaching forward, but unable to get to Kai, a blue armband coming undone and flapping in the wind against his arm.

Red began to drip onto the floor. Kai’s vision narrowed to the body in his hand. The girl’s neck was ninety degrees, bone poking upwards and distorting the skin of her bent neck. But her hair was a darker than the other girl’s had been. Her skin was tanner. Blood slid from her mouth. Where the girl had pimples sprinkled across paler skin, there was now a mole under her eye

The invisible grip around Kai’s throat suddenly tightened. But he couldn’t let go, even knowing that it would relieve his own lack of air.

Though her eyes looked at him, they were undoubtably dead ones. Beside the river of red from her mouth, and now nose, tears continued to spill from the dead eyes. The tears grew and grew and grew and began to pool at his feet. The lightheadedness returned.

“Kai?” The girl’s body choked. “What are you doing?”

Shut up. Please. He squeezed tighter. Don’t talk. I’m begging you. Don’t tell me again. I know. I know. I know. His vision darkened. Ghostly fingers dug into his own jugular.

The body in his grip heaved with a sob.

“Stop!” She gurgled. The body began to convulse, legs swinging out wildly, fists throwing themselves in all directions. “Don’t—grug—do this! Why are you doing this? Why? You were supposed to protect me—!”

Her foot rocketed into the front of his armor and somehow it hurt so much more than the blade the girl had tried to split his neck with. He grunted, doubling over while she wailed, and in his hazy vision, he saw blood pooling around his armored boot. He shifted it and an aching throb shot through it, grating, like bone on bone. Splinters of bone.

“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO PROTECT US!” The girl screamed. “SAY SOMETHING!”

He fell to a knee, eyes blurry with pain, but he kept up his grip. The water was pooling around his ankles—there was a splash as their bodies went down. It was like the lake of tears was trying to pull him under and drown him.

The blood from his wounded foot began to cloud the water around it, making crystalline clear waters murky. The red cloud slowly crowded around the two of them. The boy in the background—Jay—collapsed to his hands and knees, still in the pure, clean water.

The familiar darkness began to crowd Kai’s vision once more. It was like seeing an old friend again with the weight that lifted. It would be over soon. So he squeezed the girl’s neck tighter and his oxygen was completely cut off.

Still, she screamed, her voice shredded and broken with grief-stricken sobs.

Her small hands reached out, wet with the red water below. She touched his face. Her hands were as cold as any corpse, her head lolling around the body at unnatural angles. His chest was burning with a new fury. Air, it begged. He did not relent. Her voice became far away.

“What have you done?” Nya cried, but her hands were soft. “What have you become? Say something, Kai!”

He opened his mouth to speak, but words were unable to form under his suffocation. The pressure in his chest caved in. His eyes rolled back.

He opened his eyes. He couldn’t breathe.

Kai lurched upright in the dark room, his hands reaching up to find the source of his suffocation. His fingers found his own throat, although seizing, completely untouched. He gasped a huge breath of air and immediately coughed on it, choking with the sudden flood of oxygen.

A hand remained on his bare throat to assure himself that he could breathe. His other hand fell down to keep himself propped up, fingers curling in the clean sheets. He inhaled, exhaled. His chest was still burning, and he was lightheaded, but the feelings were slowly subsiding.

Finally, he breathed deeply through his nose, and his chest no longer ached with the effort. Peace bled into the remains of his panic. His hand slid up from his throat to rub over his face and brush his own eyes shut. He was fine. He was safe. The images of the memory-turned-nightmare were already drifting, but the ghost pain in his foot refused to go, as did the picture of his own hand around the neck of his dead sister.

He sighed, hunching over and pulling a leg in, massaging his stinging foot through the silk sheets. The old scars there remained.

The room was quiet. The floor to ceiling window across the wall were open to the world, but the sparkling lights of the city sat far enough that it still felt like the dead of night. He glanced at the alarm clock beside the bed. It was the early hours of the morning. Because of course it was. Otherwise Kai would have gotten a proper few hours of sleep in before the nightmares had begun, and the universe couldn’t have that.

A low, tired purr inturrupted the quiet of the room. Something soft nudged against his leg.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he muttered dryly. “Did the horrors of my past wake you?”

The cat, speckled with a much healthier coat of fur, had been curled in a proper loaf against him. Now, it had twisted it’s head and upper body, it’s padded paws pressing into him. The cat no longer wore the cone, although it still tended to walk with only three of it’s legs, despite it’s fourth being as healed as it would get.

“I’ll try to keep it to myself next time,” Kai told it under his breath.

The cat made a purring sound again, closing it’s eyes, and began kneading his leg with it’s paws. He huffed but begrudgingly reached down to scratch behind it’s ears. The cat pressed it’s head into his hand.

Skylor lay asleep on her chest on the other side of the cat. Kai was relieved he hadn’t woken her, as well. The lights of the city that illuminated the bedroom spilled across her back, highlighting the straps of her bra and the strands of her hair. It threw her face into darkness.

The cat bucked it’s head up into Kai’s hand and Kai frowned, but the cat was not satisfied. It uncurled slowly, like it was annoyed at him for making it move, before stepping over his leg and into his lap to lay over his feet. He shook his head, but ran his hand over it’s back. The texture of the cat's patchy coat of fur further erased the phantom pains.

Skylor shifted and made a huffing sound in her sleep. Kai glanced up again. He had missed her expression in the shadow before—but on closer inspection, it was pinched, uncomfortable. She shifted her arm under the sheets.

Kai’s chest felt heavy.

A soft whimper slipped from between Skylor’s lips. Her fingers twitched against the sheet beside her.

He sighed.

The cat nudged Kai’s leg again at his distraction. Kai ignored it, leaning over to touch Skylor’s shoulder. She didn’t immediately stir, but she made a hurt sound.

“Skylor,” he murmured, then shook her gently. “Skylor.”

She woke with a sharp intake of breath and a full-body flinch. Her eyes flew open, wide for a moment, and filled with panic. She jerked back from his hand. They stared at each other. Her hair stuck to her forehead—sweat.

She gasped raggedly. “Don’t touch me.”

Kai pulled his hand back, leaning away and nodding silently. She twitched back from the movement.

He lifted the cat off of him to set it on the silk sheets, then got off the bed. The lighting was enough for him to find his discarded sweatpants from the night before. He pulled them on. On the bed, Skylor breathed carefully, and pulled up the sheets to be over her shoulders, eyeing him the whole time. Kai did not take the wariness in her gaze personally.

He opened her closet—a walk-in, that was way too large, and with it’s own lamp, but he just had to reach in and grab the closest shirt he could find. It sprung off the hanger, which banged into the wall of the closet as he jerked it off.

He threw the shirt onto the bed next to her. She grabbed it and pulled it into her bundled sheets. Then, he scooped up the cat and turned away. The cat immediately began to purr again, shoving it’s face into his bare chest. It's whiskers made his skin itch.

The door to her room slid open with a silent whoosh as he stepped up to it.

“I’ll be in the other room,” he told Skylor.

She said nothing. He left the bedroom.

He stopped by the leather couch to set the cat down. The cat looked up at him, offended that it had been released into the front room, where it couldn’t splay out over a bed to bother them. He just huffed at it. I’ll be right back. You’re worse than Dreadmaw.

The dragon’s sleepy mind snoozed away at the back of his awareness. He avoided their bond to let her rest.

On the counter, he’d left a dark holotablet the night before. At rest, it was simply an empty black frame, but at his touch, the space inside the frame suddenly lit up blue. Words scrolled over the screen. He grimaced at the brightness of it and carried it with him back over to the couch. The rest of the front room was dark, lit only by the glow of the window wall, curtains pulled aside. The cat was quick to cuddle up as he crossed his legs up to scroll across the tablet.

Reports from General Chamille. Details about the hidden city of Nagas. From hidden entrances, to those who had access to them, to the hierarchy of rebel command, to the current state of rebellion troops. Other cave systems housing rebels nearby. Rebel equipment, water tanks, electrical generators. Military equipment in storage—bombs, tanks, trucks, blasters, armor. Scores and scores of it, most stolen from imperial bases, some completely new technology. Rebel training regiments. Whatever she’d been able to gather on the rebel council. Information she’d managed to gather on the ninja. Anything and everything she had been able to glean since the evening before.

What she gathered on the ninja was the only detail he truly cared for and she was frustratingly vague about it, whereas the rest of her reports were disgustingly exhaustive. It couldn’t be an accident. General Chamille was too fond of making him frustrated to not know what she was doing. I will give further detail in my next verbal report, her words taunted him. He wouldn’t get to know anything more from her under the excuse of being unsecure in their communications until they raided Nagas. Annoying.

His eyes drifted up from the glowing screen. In the darkness of the penthouse, the coiled armband on the table looked more black than blue. The end was slightly singed, leaving it tattered.

Kai had been close. He had been so close, but capturing the ninja had been a secondary mission, against every bone in Kai’s body. It had been more important to get Chamille into Nagas. But the ninja had been right in his hands.

He’d been fast. Fast and young, but not too young. Not like—

‘She was sixteen.’

Kai tore his eyes from the band, back to the tablet screen. The dull vibration of the cat’s purr against his leg kept him grounded.

‘—you piece of scrap!’

He scrolled. The refugees from Camp Tetsu, and the other four camps, were scattered across multiple outposts, but a majority of them were in Nagas. It seemed that most had taken up arms for the rebellion. That was a couple thousand extra troops on top of the rebel’s numbers, but a couple of thousand was nothing against the Empire. Kai couldn’t for the life of him understand why the rebellion had wasted precious resources on absconding them, especially those from Camp Tetsu. Metalwork was the worst of punishments, befitting the worst of crimes in the Empire. Murder. Arson. Robbery.

The refugees would only slog the rebellion down, and they were releasing the worst of criminals into their ranks. Were they really so desperate that they’d given up on any pretenses of being the ‘good guys’ that they seemed to believe they were?

‘Kai—’

Kai glared at the screen.

And this plan. ‘Operation Dawn Break.’ Chamille hadn’t been able to figure out exactly what it was, yet, but it was big. And it would be happening soon. They were secretive about it. Even regular members only knew to brace themselves, as it could happen any day.

‘Sayonara!’

Kai gritted his teeth. Shut up, he thought.

‘Kai, please…’

Why was that fool of a ninja’s voice stuck in his head?!

He could not focus. He’d hardly been able to think about anything in peace since the day before. He had said his name, sure, but it was just a move from Wu to get into his head. Of course he’d instruct his little puppets to knock him off his game. Kai wasn’t going to let it work.

He would not let it.

They did not know him and they did not deserve to beg for his mercy.

The cat quietly meowed at him and he realized it had been pressing against his leg to get his attention. He huffed and went to pet it, but it twisted it’s body to give him tummy access. He gave it a weird look. He was pretty sure cats weren’t supposed to like belly rubs. But he ran his hand across soft fur anyway and the cat made a satisfied sound, paws curling up. Kai had never had a pet, unless Dreadmaw counted, and he had always seen the dragon as more of a puppy than anything else. But the way this cat was acting made Kai wonder if dragons were a kind of feline themselves.

He sent a few messages, flagging them as urgent. He squinted through his other generals’ reports, some from lower-ranking military officers, and about twelve inquiries from governors across Ninjago. And, he almost groaned out loud, there were still questions about color theme for the prince’s parade float. He swiped those away. Let the kid pick his own damn theme colors. They were all, purple, light purple, dark purple, magenta purple, anyway. First Master.

The whoosh of the door opening was quiet. He didn’t turn around, his hand occupied behind the ear of the cat, now splayed over his lap.

Skylor had a spare blanket, expensive and new, draped over her arms at the elbows like it was a fur coat. Under that—much less fashionable sleep shorts and the T-shirt Kai had thrown at her. It was old and faded. There was a constellation on it. And her hair was a rat’s nest, tangled over her head, strands hanging in her face. Bags hung under her eyes.

She shuffled around him and the shin-height coffee table. He carefully paid her no mind. She sat next to him, a square of the white couch between them. She gathered the blanket to hide her legs under it.

Only then did he glance over. She exhaled long through her nose, eyes dull, gaze vaguely toward the wall. He gathered the impression that the wall wasn’t what she was seeing. The question Are you okay? seemed trivial.

“Hey.” He slapped the tablet down onto the couch between them. She glanced over coolly. “Read these. Memorize as much as you can.”

He removed the cat from his lap and dropped it next to her. The cat landed gracefully.

He heard her pick up the tablet as he stood up and went into the kitchen. He put on hot water and pulled down two mugs. He didn’t turn on the lights. It felt like it would spoil the peace of the penthouse. He navigated in the dim light. The stove flickered with a small flame as he turned on the stove top.

Over the side of the couch, Skylor’s face was lit with the blue glow, her expression pinched at the brightness. One of her hands had escaped the confines of her blanket to scratch the cat behind the ear.

After a minute, Skylor huffed. Her voice was still thick with sleep. “It really worked. The rebels are dumber than I thought. They just let her in?”

“Stressful situations make it hard to think clearly,” Kai muttered, staring at the teapot, waiting for it to boil.

“Still,” she murmured. “We can’t do anything with this until we flush out the mole or they’ll just move their essential personnel and equipment. And we only have three days until the coronation.”

“I’ve already called the generals to the Imperial Center for isolation and interrogation. It’ll be handled.”

She looked up at him, frowning. “You didn’t tell me that.”

“I only sent out the summons a few minutes ago.” He shrugged. He reached out and pressed his hand against the teapot, lightly warming his hand to make it boil faster. “Besides, you won’t be interrogated.”

“You aren’t even trying to hide your favoritism any more.”

“Don’t care.”

She snorted softly, then went back to scanning the details of the documents. He stole a glance at her while she was distracted with them. Her eyes were not as hazy as they had been before.

Under his care, the water quickly began to steam, making the teapot hiss a short tune. He quickly removed it from the heat and turned to stove off. Two mugs were prepared with tea leaves sprinkled into the bottom. Wu would tan Kai’s hide to know he wasn’t boiling the leaves with the water the proper way.

Kai’s hand hovered over a mug, freezing as he caught the thought. Why the hell should he care what Wu would think of him? He hated stray thoughts like that. Wu was far worse than Kai could ever be, he should not care. He did not care.

That voice slithered into his head again.

‘She was sixteen.’

He clenched his teeth and ignored it.

He set one of the mugs on the table in front of Skylor. “You won’t be going to the Imperial Center with me today.”

She looked up at him, unimpressed. Her eyebags made her glare more intense than usual. “Yes, I am. Someone has to watch your back. If the mole gets antsy, they could catch you off guard.”

“No, they won’t,” Kai rolled his eyes.

“They could,” she repeated.

“But they won’t. I’ll be careful.”

“Yeah, sure, and if it’s Morro? He would kill you.”

He sat down in his previous spot. “It’s not Morro.”

“Why do you sound so sure?” Skylor asked, irritation obvious in her voice. “He’s the one the emperor is most suspicious of, always has been. And you hate Morro. What has he ever done to earn your trust?”

“I don’t have to like the guy to know he’s not working with the rebellion,” Kai said dryly. He swirled the mug of tea to mix the leaves.

“He used to be a rebel,” Skylor insisted. “We both know that. Explain to me how that doesn’t make him suspect number one.”

Because, he didn’t say. Because he’s like me. And it would be a cold day in hell before Kai did a damn thing for those terrorists.

Wake up. Practice forms. Eat. Spar. Conditioning. Eat. Resist pain. Sleep. Be shaped. Be molded. Be deadly. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Until your whole life has gone by. Until everyone dies. Until you die. All because you were born unlucky.

“Can you just trust me on this one?” He asked.

She eyed him. Her chin jerked sharply, a frown on her face as she tore her gaze away to pointedly look out the window. He accepted her frustration—as long as she didn’t try to pry more information out of him. He’d proved to her long ago that he would be stubborn about anything to do with his past. She accepted it under the same consideration—although through circumstances, Kai knew far more about her than she did about him.

The blue screen glowed between them. The cat leaned it’s head over it. It’s paw slowly reached out to prod the screen curiously.

“Do I get the day off, then?” Skylor asked, stiff. “If this is some…pity thing because of—”

“It’s not,” Kai cut her off. “I need you to watch Lloyd.”

“…Why? Is he in danger?”

“I hope not,” Kai puffed. “But I need Captain Hutchins to help monitor the interrogations. There’s no one else I trust to leave Lloyd with.”

“Hutchins…” She laughed humorlessly. “That guy hasn’t left Shadowspire in all the years I’ve worked for the Empire. But you’ll take him and not me?”

“Things about my past may come up during Morro’s interrogation,” he sighed. “And I’d prefer if you weren’t there. Hutchins already knows about it. You’ll have all the authority you need in Shadowspire—I’ve already told them you’ll be coming. If you need any help, Colonel Zichen is trustworthy, and he’s got a good grip on the troops on the base and a good repour with the imperial guard. Chamberlain Noble will take care of the palace—it should be easy.”

She leaned forward to grab the second mug of tea. It steamed and she blew it half-heartedly.

“…Fine,” she agreed.

She scooted herself over until their thighs touched through the blanket. Kai felt himself relax when she leaned against him, hesitating a moment longer before dropping her head onto his shoulder. He felt the tug at his qi like the tug of a rope as she absorbed his power for a moment. Long enough for her to wave her hand through the steam and cool the tea to her liking. Then, she released the element, her qi dimming. She took a sip.

He let his head rest against hers. Her messy hair tickled his neck. The penthouse was quiet. The cat crawled out of Skylor’s mess of blankets to burrow into his lap. After using his abilities briefly, he was warmer than before. The perfect cat heating pad. He begrudgingly accepted the occupant and rubbed under the cat’s chin. The purring began anew.

He muttered, “Sky?”

“Hm?”

“I need you to do one other thing while you’re there.”

-

The Imperial Center was as it always was, even in the dark hours of the morning. Kai wished that there was somewhere else to handle a matter such as this, considering the density of the city around the Center, but it was the best option he had. He wouldn’t risk calling them all as far as Shadowspire—not with the unrest in the city and with the coronation so soon. But few other places were equipped to handle an elemental master. In fact, even the lower level of the Center wouldn’t be enough—it would barely slow them down.

Kai could have brought vengestone from Shadowspire’s dungeon. It was the rarest material in the realm, but the First Master knew how much Garmadon had buried under his throne room. Kai had not. He’d rather have to fight off ten elemental masters himself than go anywhere near vengestone. The other generals, he was sure, had similar relationships with the metal. It was true that there was at least one mole among them, but the others were innocent, and he would rather not bitter their working relationships more than he had to—especially if he could not flush out the mole and instead had to keep them all on lockdown through the coronation.

By the time Kai arrived, Hutchins and the generals had already answered his call. He had taken an extra hour longer flying up through the Geum Region in order to handle a riot that had broken out after a long night of a standoff. It was by far the most concerning of them—it was the first riot in a western region. And it could have been prevented if the region’s general had given it proper attention the night before.

Kai rolled his eyes just thinking about it as Dreadmaw dropped him off on the backside of the grand building. The back side of it was just as intricate as the front, but it at least didn’t have that egregious statue and the executioner’s block decorating the entrance.

The chief of the building’s security greeted him and walked him to the level below the first. She was a stout, but strong, woman, with the armor of an imperial trooper and a high rank insignia on her chest, colored a bright white to denote her importance. She held her helmet under her arm, revealing salt-and-pepper pulled into a tight military bun and a severe face. Her expression truly proved that there was a difference between smile lines and scowl lines because there was little chance the woman had smiled a day in her life.

“Lord Commander,” she bowed her head and saluted, fist against her chest. “The generals’ve been provided meals and private rooms. Captain Hutchins arrived just a few minutes ago. My men have kept all of it quiet-like. You’ll'ave perfect privacy.”

“Good,” Kai’s vocoder said, only glitching a bit. “Be prepared to evacuate the building if need be.”

“Already done, milord. My officers are standin’ by for your word.”

True to her word, the Imperial Center seemed especially teeming with imperial troopers that day. They spoke quietly with coffee cups over the large reception desk, they stood outside the windows, near the statue in the courtyard, they lounged along the stairway. There were far more armored troopers than there were the bureaucrats who worked in the offices above—it seemed many had been called off work for the day. Kai approved of those decisions. He’d rather the building be as empty as possible, despite whatever inconveniences would come with shutting down the Empire’s main government hub for a few hours.

He and the chief walked in silence. Imperial politicians and civil servants going about their early work day tried valiantly to act as if Kai’s presence was normal, eyes only lingering when he had already passed. Kai took the time to study the woman he walked with. She remained stone-faced, unmoving, glaring forward, every stride a firm march.

Both of their armored boots echoed down the staircase. It was a small thing, pushed to the side, as if to not gain attention, unlike the rest of the building—and a stark contrast to the grand staircase that lead government employees to their offices in the upper levels.

Unlike the top level of the building Kai had met his generals in before, which had lead into a darker hallway, open to the world by skylights, this hallway was medically grey—flat and empty. These were not holding cells. The Empire wasn’t in the habit of holding people without getting it’s use out of them—criminals were not usually held long anywhere before finding their spot in a fennel field or a cow plant. Or six feet under the ground, if they were afforded that honor. These interrogation rooms were made for one thing—getting information, quickly and efficiently.

The hallway opened into a larger waiting area. It held boring furniture, sleek and modern—low couches of black leather. Captain Hutchins and four fully armored members of his imperial guard were already there, standing in a loose circle. Four very loyal men—Kai recognized them as he sized them up. Hutchins had called on them often for discreet matters. Three additional troopers of the chief were also waiting at attention.

The guards and troopers saluted. “Good morning, Lord Commander.”

Kai didn’t bother with a dismissal, interested in other things.

Doors broke off from the area, lining either side. Two doors side by side in a repeating pattern—a viewing room and an interrogation room. There were eight of these rooms, lengthening the hall further. He did not need to be told which room held which general—Kai could sense the unique qi signatures behind each and every one. To his left, General Ash stood out, a watered-down reflection of Kai’s own qi, and General Morro was impossible to miss, as large and all-consuming as his presence was, like a tempest barely kept in check.

The other two were on the other side of the hall. Kai scrutinized them from beyond the walls. General Tox was pacing—not unusual, she had a lot of energy. General Shade…he sat unmoving. His qi permeated his interrogation room, more spread out than was natural. Kai’s suspicions lay in that room. Of all the generals here, Kai knew the least about Shade, his motivations, and his loyalty. His dry, careless attitude did not help to invoke any trust. Kai was fairly sure of their traitor in him.

But anything was possible. Better safe than sorry, when his ability to find the ninja and protect Lloyd boiled down to purging the correct perpetrator.

He jerked the chin of his helm toward the first interrogation room. Both Captain Hutchins and the no-nonsense Chief nodded.

Before they could enter the observation room, more footsteps echoed behind them. Kai had a split second to see Captain Hutchin’s wary eye before he turned around.

Two men, dressed sharply. The taller one with the goatee had a black suit on under a violet haori, the lapels of which were held together with a silver chain just under his collar bone. The other, with the broader shoulders, wore all black, a kimono hugging his larger stomach so that he appeared slimmer than he was.

“Lieutenant Governor Clouse,” Kai eyed the first man, then turned his attention to the second. He narrowed his eyes at the man. “Governor Hikaru. This is a surprise.” What the fuck are you doing here?

“Good morning, Lord Shogun,” Governor Hikaru greeted, both him and Clouse giving Kai shallow bows of the head. “The Lieutenant Governor and I offer our apologies for arriving uninvited, but we hope you will forgive the lack of communication. You see, we shared concern when learning about the summons of your generals.”

“This is a military matter,” Kai said shortly. “Do not spare your concern. I have the situation well in hand. I am sure you both have important duties to attend to.”

“The security of our realm is the most important thing at the moment,” Governor Hikaru told him, with brazen confidence. Clouse, at least, seemed culled in Kai’s presence. “Without our generals, it could be disastrous if anything were to happen in our regions in the meantime. And the matter you have called them to deal with…well, a betrayal so high in the military’s affairs could have consequences that ripple through the Empire. It is only logical that we, too, should be involved, my lord. Do you not agree?”

“You add nothing to the investigation itself,” Kai gritted. “The only thing your presence here will do is become a distraction. Anything you need to know after the situation has been properly dealt with will be reported to you.”

“We must insist, milord.” Hikaru bowed, his long, perfectly groomed hair, falling in front of him but for in his eyes, his bangs pulled back with a phoenix crest at the back of his head.

Kai scowled behind his helm. His eyes pinned Clouse, the man’s eyes flickering. “He speaks for you, Lieutenant Governor?”

The man raised his chin. “I do apologize, Lord Shogun. But the circumstances surrounding the death of the late Governor Kurogane remain a mystery. With the utmost respect, his security force—members of your ranks—failed to detect the assailant’s entrance and their escape. The rebels have never been so successful in such an assassination. Although we do not doubt the emperor’s conclusion that the Borg Technology's codger was involved, it seems foolish to discount the possibility of a general having a hand in it. Please, be gracious and allow us to observe in the pursuit of our own safety and the safety of our loved ones.”

Lieutenant Governor Clouse was unmarried and had no close relatives. Kai was unimpressed by his reasoning—and he knew, better than any, just how unfaithful Governor Hikaru was. Neither loved any person more than their own seat of power.

His immediate instinct was to tell them to go fuck themselves. He did not want over-wealthy civilians involved who knew nothing of the military’s alliances and the weight of an elemental power. And he certainly did not want them witnessing his interview of Morro. Morro knew too much and he enjoyed getting under Kai’s skin. There was any number of things he could reveal to them.

But they would cause problems. They would complain, they would search for their political allies to levy against Kai. It would not do much, not with the power the military had over the populace—even the politicians—but it would be an annoyance. Kai simply could not afford an annoyance. He had three days to finish this.

So, his second instinct was to kill them. Be done with it. The emperor would only bellyache a bit, but if Kai told him it was in the defense of the Prince and the boy’s best interests, he would accept it and pat Kai on the back for his decision.

He stared down at the men, considering it. They both held their head so high, but they were half a foot shorter than Kai in his armor, and they wore painfully fragile silks and cottons. Fine looking, but flammable. It was tempting. Especially Governor Hikaru. A slimier one of the pigs, even if Kai’s personal feelings were involved there.

The room was very quiet, Kai suddenly realized. The two governors were sweating. Captain Hutchins had stepped into the corner of his vision and he was watching Kai with an unreadable expression. All of them waiting for him to make a decision. He wondered, did the two men know how deeply he was considering reducing them to black smears on the shining tile?

He puffed out a breath within his mask, which did not translate through his vocoder. “Fine. But you will not observe during the questioning. You will wait here. Chief Lao will provide you with updates between interviews.”

Both wisely realized that they had pressed him as far as he would allow. They bowed shallowly once more and muttered their thanks. Unsatisfied, but at least aware enough to preserve their lives.

“If you require anythin’ at all, Governors, my troopers will be happy to accommodate you,” the chief said as the men went to sit down.

“Thank you,” Lieutenant Governor Clouse nodded. “I believe we will be just fine. I look forward to speaking with you.”

She nodded. Governor Hikaru ignored the woman, sweeping passed the lot of them to take a haughty seat on one of the couches. Kai, amused, decided that seeing him march so confidently over just for him to twiddle his thumbs for however long Kai forced him to was entertaining enough to warrant keeping him alive.

He quickly dismissed the politicians from his mind and gestured for Captain Hutchins and the chief.

Kai was not here to waste any more time.

He opened the door to the first interrogation room, closing it behind him. He trusted Hutchins and the Chief would be listening from the other room, with the guards keeping watch for any unauthorized happenstances.

The interrogation room was well-spaced, with three pieces of furniture inside—a heavy stone table in the center of the room, and two uncomfortable stone chairs on either side of it. They were as grey as the rest of the room, as if they had been carved up from the very same block of cement. The walls were spotless and pristine—the only break in the room was the observation window. In the case that the blaster-proof glass somehow failed, a thin layer of purple energy shielded it. The dim glow of the purple off-set the bright fluorescents above them.

Facing the one-way window, General Ash sat on one side of the table. His armor looked freshly shined—a spotless white breastplate and tasset skirt that subtly resembled Kai’s own armor in it’s make, with leather over his shoulders and the belt at his waist. The imperial crest was large and proud at the buckle of his belt. His hair was not gelled into spikes, as usual, so it was a bit unruly. He'd answered Kai's summons too quickly and missed his morning routine.

In front of him, there were three half-eaten plates of gourmet foods and two different glasses—one with some brown liquid pooled at the bottom, and the other half full of water. He must have gotten nerves halfway through his breakfast.

The young man quickly stood as Kai closed the door behind him. The thump of the general’s fist against his breastplate was loud. “Good morning, Commander!”

Kai waved a hand. “At ease, General. Sit.”

“Yes, milord.” The young man sat.

Kai stood behind the chair across from him, crossing his arms. Ash’s eyes flickered from their proper stare forward to his armor—the melted, malformed bits around his helm and chest piece. The young general said nothing about it, obediently waiting. His face was even younger than Kai knew he was—a cleft chin, a sharp nose, and his face unlined with his youth. His hands were laced together on the table.

“Do you know why you are here at such an hour?” Kai asked. The flat baritone of his vocoder echoed in the small room.

Ash’s hands tightened ever-so-slightly and he looked at Kai as he addressed him. “I…have a suspicion, milord. Every tip we were landed that had any promise didn’t turn out well. It was like…well, someone was warning the rebels. You suspect a traitor, right?”

Good, Kai thought to himself, feeling some simmering pride, but shoving it down for the moment at hand.

“Yes,” Kai confirmed. “Someone has been passing along information. You’ve served under me since your father died, and you’ve served well, but I must be sure.”

Ash’s expression hardened, though his eyes hid a flicker of pain. “Commander, you’ve been more than a mentor to me. I owe everything to you. I wouldn’t betray that. My loyalty to the Empire runs through my blood—my father and his father and his father before him were all devout servants of the emperor, even before His Majesty’s great imperial rule began. If there’s anyone you can trust to the end of time, it’s me.”

“We will see.” Kai studied the young man. “I understand it must have been difficult to fill your father’s shoes after his sudden death. You were only seventeen at the time. It wouldn’t be strange to feel some resentment toward the empire for forcing you into such a role.”

“Not at all, milord,” Ash was quick to assure him, his shoulders firm. “Elemental masters are more than mere mortals. We are born into this world for a greater purpose. My father ensured I was aware of my responsibility from the moment I could walk on two feet, and what I would one day inherit. He only passed on two years ago, but there was never a moment that I did not know where I would stand or that I wished for anything else. It’s an honor to fulfil my purpose.”

There wasn’t a hesitation or a sheen of sweat on his brow. He was fidgeting with his fingers a bit, betraying some degree of nerves with the particles of smoke that appeared between the shifts of his fingers, but nothing insurmountable. Kai was aware of the truth he was speaking. Ash was a high-born child, the product of generations of loyalty, as he’d recited. He’d never needed convincing of his place in the emperor’s realm, unlike some others.

Kai’s eyes softened. Even as a general, Ash didn’t seem to know to yearn for any better. Still too young. But generations of chains meant it neigh impossible for the rebellion to break him.

“You have great potential. That was why I supported your ascent and trained you as best I could in your hour of need, and you have repaid me by growing into your father’s position. But you are not your father. Tell me, were you aware of the protest in the Rema District last night? It was within your region’s jurisdiction. I had not assigned you any further tips to investigate.”

The young man grimaced, eyes guilty. He looked down from Kai’s gaze. “Yes, milord, I was aware of it.”

The energy shield behind Kai was buzzing dully, louder in the silence.

“Then why did it turn into a riot with a casualty count only an hour ago?” Kai asked, his vocoder making his tone flatter than he’d like. “You should have handled it last night. What distracted you?”

“I–We were monitoring the situation,” Ash reasoned, frowning. “But—they refused to break the gathering. They were told it was unauthorized by the district, but they still refused to move. I sent in troops to intimidate them, but more civilians kept arriving. There were thousands of people.”

“Yes, I noticed,” Kai said. He uncrossed his arms to grab the back of his stone chair, his leather gloves creaking over his arm wraps. “Some of your men died this morning. Even more civilians did. They were innocent civilians, just afraid, desperate—they can’t afford to live, and to not afford to live is to be sent to the fields. But it got so out of hand that lethal force had to be involved.”

“I tried last night—”

“Your men told me you said ‘I don’t know what to do’ and looked to them to make a decision—which they did not for fear of upsetting you.”

Ash opened his mouth, then closed it, wetting his lips. Shame hung over him, more light smoke rising with every shift—from the friction between his arm and torso, the friction that came at his knees as he uncrossed his legs.

“I humbly apologize,” Ash told Kai genuinely, hanging his head. “I am aware of how you taught me to handle riots. Escalation of force. I should have told my men to physically go in and break up the group before it grew.”

“And why didn’t you?”

“There were—” Ash paused, considering. He glanced up, ashamed. “There were children. In the crowd. I didn’t know how to—handle that. So I…did nothing. My region hasn’t seen a single protest before, much less a riot, I just…didn’t know…”

Kai hummed. His eyes flickered to the side—he couldn’t see the energy shield and window, behind him as it was, but he hoped they were paying attention to catch anything Kai missed.

As the first general, Skylor was responsible for the Empire's oldest region, the Capital, but directly next to it was a seat of comparable prestige that General Ash was responsible for. The Masters of Smoke had held the general’s seat over the Geum Region ever since the emperor had separated the military and the civilian political system of control. It was an easy thing to inherit—the citizens of that region were majorly loyal and held genuine love and pride for the Empire born of propaganda. General Ash was a beloved figure, there, as was the Shogun and the emperor.

But every region had their poorer districts, no matter how far west. With how bad the economy had gotten in the last month alone, even the most peaceful regions were growing chaotic. It wasn’t a surprise that General Ash didn’t know how to properly deal with it, inexperienced as he was. He’d been lulled into the sense of peace.

“So it had nothing to do with the fact that the rebellion was using the protest as a cover while they broke into and stole from one of your military bases?”

The shock on the young man’s face was genuine. If Kai had held any tiny sliver of doubt about him before, that expression convinced him. And, if that weren’t enough, the steadiness his qi was more than enough. It spoke of the truth.

“No! No, of course not,” Ash stuttered. “Which base? What did they take?”

“Confiscated experimental weaponry,” Kai told him truthfully. “I had ordered it to be processed and held in your territory because I trusted you. It’s a shame that this has happened. Suspicious, almost.”

“I…I understand how this looks, and I don’t blame you for coming to that conclusion, but I-I was just foolish. Not…”

Kai sighed. “General.”

Ash took a deep breath. The smoke wafted, circling the ceiling above them, but it slowly stopped seeping out from beneath Ash’s armor.

“I understand your doubts, milord,” Ash said, more put together, but still avoiding Kai’s eyes. “But my loyalty will always be to the Empire. To you. I would never betray either.”

Kai squinted at him. He may not be the best ranking officer yet, but there was no doubt about his honestly. Kai glanced at the window and nodded. Ash’s fingers relaxed minutely where they had been tightening together.

Kai had already dealt with the rebels who had broken into the facility, regardless.

“I believe you,” Kai said. If he hadn’t been wearing his mask, his voice may have been too soft.

Ash’s shoulders dropped. “Thank you, milord.”

Kai waved a lazy hand. “You are to remain on this level until I have finished conducting my investigation and give you a dismissal. But stretch your legs. If you find yourself in need of anything, ask one of the guards.”

“I can help,” the general quickly added. “Anything.”

Kai quirked a brow. “How do you suppose you would go about that?”

The young man didn’t hesitate, his steel eyes firm with resolve. “General Tox and I have been working together for the entire month—she’s a strange one, but I know her well enough now that I believe I’d be able to tell if she was lying.”

“Does my judgement not satisfy you?”

Ash floundered for a moment. “Yes, milord, of course it does—I just want to help keep the Empire safe. May I?”

Kai scrutinized Ash from beneath his helm. When had it become his job to look after every teenager lacking parental figures in the Empire? But he quickly pushed such a thought away. General Ash was not a child, he was nineteen, an adult, and a perfectly able one, who had responsibilities to live up to.

Kai hummed, “We will see. Wait here.”

The observation room on the other side of the mirrored window was half the size of the interrogation room. With only the Chief and Captain Hutchins in there, it seemed full, with both of them standing up, fully armored. When Kai stepped inside, it became downright cramped with the ledge of a countertop jutting out from under the window. Two holotablets lay there, displaying General Ash’s file for the two of them to look over.

It was darker in there, as well, with only dim floor lights and the glowing of the energy screen beyond the window. On the other side of it, General Ash gurgled his water like a man that had suddenly found himself in a desert.

Captain Hutchin’s helmet sat next to one of the tablets. He gave Kai a dry look, the brow above his eyepatch rising. “Quite the strategy, my lord. You spent half of your interrogation chastising the boy rather than questioning him.”

“Yes, well, his oversight caused my tardiness this morning,” Kai grumbled. “It was irritating to deal with.”

“He’s young.”

“Yes,” Kai agreed. “But I’m confident in his allegiances. Do either of you disagree?”

The chief picked up the holotablet and scrolled for a moment, then she shook her head. Her voice was gruff. “Lookin’ at his history, doesn’t seem like he’d know how to step outta line if you went up and beat ‘im in the face, milord.”

Kai tried not to think about that too much.

-

“This is a waste of my time.”

Kai slapped the folder down on the stone table. Some of the papers slid around, corners peaking out from the manilla. Morro didn’t dignify them a glance, too busy giving Kai a cold glare.

Yeah, well, that makes two of us who don’t want to be here, asshole. And here Kai had imagined they had been on better terms as of late. Kai’s definition of ‘better terms’ was Morro accepting Kai’s decisions without argument, though, so maybe Morro had just become exhausted enough to close his mouth instead of argue with Kai. Not today, it seemed. Kai had woken him up too early.

Morro looked like a walking grave, though that was par for the course. His skin was sallow, moreso than usual. It seemed that the Dune Sea had given him a tan after all—and he’d lost it since returning to the city.

The general had thrown his hood back, ignoring the food before him with and exception for the sushi—which had been cleaned off of the plate. Kai hadn’t taken Morro for a picky eater. He’d properly folded his chopsticks and aligned them back up with the plate by the time Kai had stepped into the room.

“This is a formality—” Kai said. If it had been just his voice, it would have been mocking—but, as it was, his vocoder decided to glitch badly while he was speaking, cutting off his words.

A made Morro’s lip twitch with something cruel and satisfied. “Has someone been giving you a difficult time, milord?”

Shut up already, Kai thought, glowering at him. Morro seemed to sense Kai’s frown and rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair

“You know why you’re here.”

“No, I do not,” Morro drawled, his dark hair falling from his face as he tilted his head back. “But please, enlighten me.”

As if. He was just being a prick to be a prick.

“One of you has betrayed the Empire to work with the rebellion,” Kai spelled out, mirroring Morro’s demeanor. “You seem a likely candidate, with your history.”

Kai gestured down to the folder. Morro eyed it, giving Kai a suspicious look. One of his hands emerged from the darkness of his robe, two boney fingers flicking to the side. The air in the room stirred and the folder burst open, scattering the contents before they organized themselves across the table in front of Morro. Morro leaned over them, frowning.

He picked up one of the photos between the tips of his thumb and his forefinger, as if to touch it as little as possible. His gaze lazily slid back up to give Kai an unimpressed glare.

“These must have been quite the pain to find.” Morro tossed the photo back down and leaned in his seat, hands disappearing. “I would say I was impressed, but I am too sure that someone else did that hard work. General Skylor?”

A child stared up from the photo, bright eyes behind a fringe of black bangs. A grin split the boy’s face, which in itself had initially made Kai think that they had found the wrong person. But no, the strong nose and the green-streaked hair was impossible to mistake for anyone else. The boy in the school photo, wearing a gukuran, buttoned all the way to the top…was indeed Morro. The quality of the picture was blurry, showing it’s age.

“Born to a miserable couple. A mother who died in birth and a father who killed himself shortly thereafter. How many months did you spend in the orphanage before the rebel found you?”

“You can hardly expect me to remember such a thing. I was an infant. There was no life before him. Not all of us were so lucky.”

“You were raised in the rebellion.”

“You know my past, Commander. Are you truly looking to open old wounds at such an unstable time?”

“No,” Kai crossed his arms, metal tinking against metal. “I only need to be sure where your loyalties lie. Why did you turn your back on those that had raised you to join the Empire? Rebel propaganda is very convincing.”

“And being raised as a living weapon against society is very awakening,” Morro shot back, still maintaining his composure. “You think that after all of this time, I would side with them? I have dedicated my life to the Empire. I was rising the ranks when you were still changing diapers in your little smith-house. I chose this life. If there’s a likelier candidate for betrayal between the two of us, it would be you. You had to be convinced of it, whereas I joined of my own free will. Does that not tell you all you need to know?”

“Yet the emperor retains his doubts.”

“Let him doubt. I will prove myself to him as many times as it takes. But I owe you nothing. I would call the distain I feel for you unmatched, but my hatred for the rebellion and their nonsensical ideals far surpasses my hate for you. Suicide was what killed the father I never met? He was one of the most powerful beings in the realm, gifted with the same blood that runs through me. I do not have a particular attachment to my roots, but I know that he did not kill himself. His life stood in the way of that fanatic. And then I remained. A jaglion cannot turn down a free meal.”

“Alright.” Kai knew it wasn’t Morro. He was too damn bitter about the world. “You have no loyalties toward them. But that leaves you with little else but your responsibilities as a general. No family. No friends, even. A man with nothing to lose is an unpredictable one.”

“I have more than that left—I have my pride and my power. I’ll be damned if I let anyone, rebel or commander, strip that from me.”

The two men stared each other down for a long moment, the weight of their past and their present pressing down on them.

“If you’re telling the truth, then you have nothing to fear.” Kai turned his back on the Master of Wind.

“I am not afraid of you, Shogun. I never was.”

Kai ignored him, throwing a glance toward the glass window. Hopefully that was enough of a show for the two watching because Kai was not going to stand in this room with Morro any longer. Although Morro had been strangely merciful in keeping his words vague.

“You will be dismissed after I speak with General Tox and General Shade,” Kai told Morro in leu of announcing his innocence.

Morro didn’t respond. Kai did not turn to see whether he was shocked at the ease of the interrogation or simply could not bother. Kai left the room.

In the observation room, Captain Hutchins frowned down at the tablet. He spoke, "The spiders found nothing from digging through his devices, like General Ash. For all intents and purposes, he seems innocent."

"But?" Kai drawled.

"But," the captain sighed. "I cannot trust him the way that you do, commander, even knowing all you have told me. There is something about him...the intent in his gaze. I cannot place it. I wish we had more time."

Kai, for the first time, considered the idea. Captain Hutchins was steady, dependable. If he was mentioning it, he found it to be a genuine concern.

"I can hold them here, no matter how the remaining interrogations go," Kai mentioned, peering passed the Captain's eyepatch. "If you truly think it would be wise."

The Captain pursed his lips, glancing at the security chief. She shrugged, unaware of the extent of the situation's complexity.

Captain Hutchins shook his head, shutting the tablet off and setting it on the lip of the window. "I may not trust him, but I know your judgement. You decided who you did or did not suspect before you set foot in any of the interrogation rooms. Am I wrong?"

Kai huffed wordlessly under his mask. "I know my people."

Captain Hutchins tapped a finger on the counter, his metal gauntlets making a tink, tink, tink. He said nothing, then nodded.

Kai gestured with his head back towards the door. The chief immediately followed the order, dropping the information tablet into her belt and opening the door to leave. Captain Hutchins went to follow, catching the door before it swung closed again. His shoulders filled out the door way as he paused.

"Commander," he muttered. "They are your subordinates. Nothing more."

"I'm aware."

Captain Hutchin's sideways look said he did not believe Kai. But he dipped his head in acknowledgement and left the room.

Kai understood the man's warning perfectly well. What could look like loyalty on the outside was simply the fear that kept some in line. That kind of fear could lead to desperation as easily as it could lead to subjugation. It was Kai's responsibility to proceed with caution. And he would—when he spoke with General Shade. Captain Hutchins was free to give him as many doubtful looks as he liked within the privacy of his helmet.

Kai knew that the imperial generals were far from the family he had once had. He knew that. He wasn't blind.

‘Perhaps you shouldn't have killed her!’

Kai twitched.

-

In the third room, the only things that had been scraped clean from the plates were the meats and the poultry. There was not a drop left of the expensively aged alcohol, the glass licked clean.

Both stone seats went unused for their original purpose, General Tox having deemed it only fit as an arm rest. She had a distant smirk on her lips, like the unhinged expression had been engraved there to be permanent. Her eyes, always unnaturally wide, with a sick green tint behind them. There was a long, thin dagger with the imperial crest balanced at the tip of her finger.

She flicked it up, the blade glinting, then caught it, narrowly avoiding slicing her own palm open.

"Good morning, Commander," General Tox greeted, the corners of her lips curling up. "Nice of you to drop by."

"General. As enthusiastic as ever, I see, despite continuously failing in your duties over the past month."

"Can't help if we get bad tips," she shrugged. Flip, catch. "Doesn't mean I have to stop having fun with the job, does it?"

One shoulder of hers faced him, her body angled away. There was a nervous tension there.

"Fun," he said, dry behind his vocoder. "You melted the skin from the face of a Visionbuild branch manager four days ago."

"He was suspicious," she sung, shrugging, but there was a poorly tampered smirk on her lips. She turned to Kai, leaning against the back of the chair, and balanced the blade on the tip of her finger. The dagger lazily swayed back and forth.

He was innocent, a hypocritical voice argued in Kai's mind. He could not tell if it was his own or not.

Kai glanced at the one-way window, where he knew General Ash had joined the Captain and the Chief. He had a new sympathy for the kid. He'd had to deal with her this entire time.

But her nonchalance was not blinding him. Her qi was tight with tension. Coiled within her middle dantian and ready to launch her into a defense at a moment's notice. That was not necessarily a red flag coming from Tox—her qi was often an influxive mess, as erratic as her personality, but it made Kai wary.

"Sit down."

His words held no room for argument. She pressed her lips together in a fake smile and she sat. The hilt of the dagger wavered in the air. Where she had pried her hand off the back of the chair, the stone had indents in it, glossy with a thin layer of acid eating away at the stone. If he hadn't been wearing his mask, the stench of decaying minerals would have been stifling.

She instead ran her hand through her bright green pony tail, casually playing with the split ends.

"Someone has been passing information to our enemies," he said.

She twitched, her qi swirling. She gave him a intrigued side-eye, her face quickly splitting again to show teeth.

"I know where you come from," he continued. "Bari Jeong."

Her grin grew ever-sharper—now more of a barring of teeth. "Ah. Low blow, bringing up deadnames, commander. I killed that bitch."

"You don't look dead to me."

"Look again." Her grin was painful, digging into her cheeks, malforming the skin. Her wide, sickly green eyes were those of a wild prey. "Dead. It's been Tox for a long time. I'm with the Empire, now, same as you. I like the work."

"So you claim," he murmured.

His com set buzzed with brief static. Captain Hutchins voice inturrupted him, quiet in his ear. "Commander, the spiders have run into some suspicious communications between General Tox and an unknown recipient over the last few weeks. It is heavily encrypted. Our code-breakers are working on it now, but it may take a while."

Kai did not give any acknowledgement that he had heard. But his gaze hardened on Tox. His suspicions jumped. General Tox…she was young. He had believed her to be far too afraid of the Empire to betray it. At heart, she was a coward. Had he been wrong?

Her flighty eyes jumped between him and the window, sensing the minute change. She'd been studying him carefully. Her two-fingered grip on the dagger tightened.

"What reasons would you have to remain loyal to the emperor?" Kai challenged, stepping closer to the table and settling the knuckles of his closed fist on the stone. His armor loomed over her. "General Morro gave himself over of his own free will. General Ash was raised by a military family. Even General Shade enlisted before he found his True Potential. But you...you were never here by choice, were you, Bari?"

The blade pressed into her finger. Red welled up and slid down her wrist. Although her fingerless gloves and the dagger had been made with her in mind, the stone had not. Where a drop of blood fell, a hissing sound followed, thin chemical smoke rising.

"Don't call me that," she said through her teeth.

"Your True Potential revealed itself outside of an execution chamber in that mining camp, did it not?" he pressed. "The Empire would have slaughtered you, like they had your mother. But you were not even afforded that mercy she received. No, you were taken away because you are not human. You were something that the emperor wanted. To become another one of his tools, like the rest of us."

"You don't know anything." Her smile finally melted. "Shut up."

"And you fought, didn't you? How long did it take you to realize that you were only prolonging your pain down there? How long did they hold you in those shackles?"

"You don't know—!"

"I know perfectly well," Kai growled. "But I was not the one who betrayed my oath."

“I didn’t—! I didn’t betray anything!” She rose to her feet, anger on the surface of her expression, and crazed desperation beneath. “I’m loyal! I have nothing outside the Empire, nothing! Why would I betray it? Why would I put so much of myself into my work if I didn’t care for it?”

“Nothing,” Kai repeated, straightening. “That’s true. You have nothing to lose, do you? No family. No friends. Your men do not even have a particular loyalty to you. The Mad Dog, they call you, a loose cannon. You have convinced everyone that you do not have a care in the realm. Perhaps that is why you did not think you were arousing suspicion by sabotaging every mission. Giving the rebels a warning and killing any left behind so they could not divulge resistance secrets. Quite the lengths to go to for a self-righteous rebel—but you would not retain your position as a general otherwise, would you?”

“You should be thanking me!” She snarled. “I’m the only one more eager than you to end them all!”

Her qi was working itself up. Her feet were firmly planted. Had he really found the mole right here? One of the people that he had been so convinced could not betray him?

“Or perhaps you are trying too hard to convince those around you of something. Like the fact that you’re working with the enemy.”

“You’re a paranoid bastard, Commander,” she hissed coldly, all enthusiasm and glee gone from her face. “I’m loyal.”

“Am I?”

Fear is a poor motivator of loyalty. Any tyrant would eventually fall to their delusions believing otherwise. He had known this for a long time.

She was breathing hard beneath her armor, her nose whistling with every heavy breath. Her eyes flickered between him and the door and the window, a note of desperation still in them.

The hilt of the dagger slipped into her hand as she took a step back. Their qi remained in a locked stalemate in the room for a long moment—the reach of his energy threatening to roast her alive, while her body remained prepared to dissolve the room into nothing should she please.

She’d betrayed them. Kai…could not find it in himself to feel any injustice. There was even some pity lingering in his gut.

She laughed. The tone was one-note—bitter and hopeless. It was not the laugh of a hysterical loose canon, rather a dying woman.

“…They never stopped,” she admitted, balling her free hand into a fist. “Every mistake, every hesitation—they dragged me back to that rack. That hellhole. Every time, I thought it would be the last. And you never really leave. Not when they cut off pieces and let them rot there. Do you have any idea what that does to someone?”

He hesitated. And decided to give her the one thing she’d never been handed. Mercy. “I do.”

The woman’s expression shuttered with shock. “…Then how can you believe in this Empire? It’s corrupt. It’s evil! Poison! I can’t—I can’t fucking live like this! The rebels—they promised a way out. We-We can—It doesn’t have to be this way! We can be free!”

“You…” His gaze hardens, despite the simmering empathy in his chest. “…were weak, general. You let fear control you and were taken advantage of. The rebellion will not give the realm freedom. They will only tear it down into chaos and misery.”

“No. No, you’re wrong. I chose survival. This—This isn’t living! This is waiting to die! I never left that line. We’ve all been on death row from the moment we joined the empire.”

He ignored her. “Who were you in contact with?”

She panted. A thin green mist began to sleuth out from the seams of her armor, unseen at first, and slowly becoming dense enough to be visible. Her eyes flickered toward the door, then back to him.

“Do not make this worse for yourself, Tox,” he said. “Who were you contacting?”

She did not seem to hear him. “I’m not going back there!”

The gas exploded, deep and dense, with her at the epicenter. Kai threw his arm up to block the bareness of his eyes, already hearing the high-pitched hissing as the acid clung to his armor and began to chew it down. But a set of armor and linen that could handle temperatures as high as he could reach offered more than enough protection.

He lit himself on fire. The magical flame, hovering above his skin, produced a shield that burned away the horrible particles, allowing only smoke and oxygen through to his lungs.

Tox screamed as the fire went up, her scream full of fury and desperation.

The cloud-turned dense acid had splat against every wall and the ceiling—the walls groaned and crackled as holes quickly began to be chewed through them. A chunk of the ceiling collapsed down—the stone table and chairs were already melting down. A spark of electricity exploded as the energy shield between the window and the room was destroyed.

The general’s clenched hand shot out and a wide splash of acid flew and stretched across the room until it was a deadly curtain bearing down across the small interrogation space. When coming into contact with his flames, it evaporated, then even the mist was burned away.

Behind him, however, the thick curtain cut directly through the wall between rooms like a knife through heated butter.

It sliced up and through the ceiling next and another chunk of concrete fell—making Kai lunge out of the way to avoid creating lava.

The gas flew into the open gap between the interrogation room and the observation room—Ash and Hutchins.

Kai lunged for Tox—but the general leaped. She aimed for the wound in the ceiling—the lip of concrete corroded away the instant she touched it. Her foot landed down on the next floor and she burst away. Sounds of chaos echoed above and glass shattered. The sound of blasters firing followed.

Kai adjusted to give chase.

“Move!” Captain Hutchins was shouting in the other room—coughing grossly. Kai’s heart seized. Not him.

Kai charged their way. His armor burst through the crack in the wall, blowing out more concrete, even as the acid continued to deteriorate the room. The door had been kicked open, Captain Hutchins hauling out the Chief by the collar of her armor. The two of them had their cheeks puffed out, holding their breath, while General Ash was green in the face and heaving, all of their skin reddening with blisters.

Kai slammed a hand against the wall in the room and flames crawling across them in a controlled wave. The wave shot over everything—and dug into the other room—fire fighting and killing the acid across both rooms. The air briefly burst into flames as the gases were cleared out. The Captain and the Chief jerked as, for a moment, blazes crawled over them as well. But the moment of shocking heat gave way for relief as the burning sensations of the acid stopped.

General Ash also gasped as he was relieved of the acid—everywhere except for his lungs. The young man was pressed against the wall to keep himself upright and vomited up the breakfast that had already been nervous in his stomach. There was green bits there, and his vomit began to hiss, like it had become far more acidic than stomach acid should be. The bile began to eat away at the floor. Someone had not had the good sense to hold his breath.

Kai grabbed him by his hunched shoulder and straightened him, slamming him against the wall and holding him there. The kid looked terrified, grey eyes stormy with panic and reflexive tears. Kai dug the fingers of his other hand into the young man's chest armor, the metal molding inwards with his pressure.

The general’s eyes went huge and the young man let out a bloodcurdling scream. Smoke began to pour out of his mouth and nose, but not smoke of his own—but smoke from the flames crawling in his lungs and stomach.

It only lasted a moment. Kai had to force himself not to immediately stop at the sound of that scream. His blood was cold, despite the flames he’d only just put out.

Kai let go of him. Ash collapsed to the ground, catching himself on his hands and knees. He vomited again. This time, all that came up was chunky black liquid—a mix of ash and the acidic gas he had swallowed in. The kid was lucky—with his fire resistance, he’d been able to withstand the cleansing. The Captain or the Chief would have simply died with there being nothing Kai could do.

Lucky and stupid. How many lectures was Kai going to have to give this kid? For the First Master’s sake, he didn’t have time for this!

In two strides, he was back in the interrogation room, and bounding up through the decomposing ceiling.

The main floor shook under the weight of his armor. The troopers were shouting at each other, moving quickly, many going towards the path of destruction and the hole in the far window. Footsteps, sunk into the ground, quite literally paved the way. The ground along the path was sunken and hissing with acid haphazardly thrown around. Troopers were covering their mouths and noses. Tox was making stupid mistakes. Kai didn’t believe it to be a fake lead—she was just that terrified.

He took off after them. Shots were going off in the front courtyard, there was screaming, and the groaning of unsteady infrastructure. If only he didn’t have to wear this clunky-ass armor, maybe he could move faster than your average rhino—

“She went that way, my lord!” A trooper pointed toward the center of the ornate courtyard.

A voice amplifier was being used outside of the building, a trooper’s words booming across the street. “General, stand down and surrender!”

The god-sized statue of the emperor was swaying. Half of the flagpoles were melted down into the ground, and the other half were tipping over. The paved walkways and gardens alike were half sunken, the chemical smoke burning across the front steps. So much destruction in so little time.

Tox’s lithe form leapt up from the street and on top of the imperial truck that the trooper with the voice amplifier was speaking from. He yelped in shock and and truck’s top dented inwards as Tox jumped up again—straight into the third-story window of the office building across the street. The trooper lost his balance as the truck began to hiss and melt away.

There were civilians and troopers alike panicking, trying to get away from the acid-covered gardens. Flag poles clanged together as they toppled like dominoes. A couple of bureaucrats in kimono screamed and dove away from the falling poles, only to land in hissing acid that continued to spread across the ground, like an infection.

The Garmadon statue groaned, the finger that had once pointed in such a commanding gesture beginning to melt downwards as the acid crawled up it. Decay pulled off it’s first layer of obsidian in places, revealing spots of bone white granite beneath, like it was eating the skin of a living creature.

The support for it crunched and an ominous groan echoed. A woman in its falling path screamed—desperately trying to kick off shoes that were steaming and burning, distracted from the doom befalling her. Her hanfu caught the acid and the contamination touched her fingers—she screeched in sheer pain.

Falling. The shadow of the statue shifted over her.

Kai was there. He planted his feet on either side of her legs in the same moment that the weight of gravity came down fully. The oversized Garmadon slammed onto his upraised hands and the pain reverberated through his body. He felt his wrist crunch and choked behind his mask at the pain that momentarily blinded him.

It quickly numbed with adrenaline.

The woman’s whines of pain stifled in terrified shock. Then she began to cry out more, “Ah, ah, ah, First Master, please! AHH!”

His eyes flickered down to her, but his breathing was heavy, holy hell, obsidian was heavy, he wasn’t Cole, he wasn’t made for this, shit, shit, shit—He managed to heave and dump the heavy heap of earth to the side, grunting with effort. The statue cracked the earth and the edges of it splintered off, throwing pebbles of the pavement everywhere. He grabbed his hurt arm by the elbow, the hand beneath his wrist throbbing to his quick heartrate.

Tox was getting away. People here were getting hurt. Tox had information about the rebellion. Kai was the only one here with the ability to help them. He was the only one who could subdue her. She could help him find the rebellion, stop them, save far more people than those in the square. That was how he justified his vision narrowing across the street.

The woman at Kai’s feet screamed like she was being murdered. The acid was crawling up her arm and she desperately crab crawled backwards, like that would save her. She quickly collapsed.

Kai reached down long enough to brush a hand on her shoulder.

Flames raced over her body. For a moment, she looked more terrified than before, a horrified betrayal in her eyes as they widened at him. Then, it was over, and she stopped screaming, whining and groaning instead as she held her hurt body.

The betrayal in her eyes turned to tearful relief.

He jumped over her, running across the street and throwing himself up to crash into the third floor. As he did he reached out mentally for Dreadmaw—but the airhead had flown well away. Although she was alerted by his emotions and headed back towards him, she wouldn’t return in time to be helpful.

Tox’s destruction was again clear, with walls melted to the shape of her body and eating away at more, people thrown clear and crying out in shock or pain.

Office chairs were flipped and steaming with acid, rolling wheels slowly spinning. Cabinets had been knocked over, files flying through the air, among the scrambling bodies of people in suits and pencil skirts.

Kai barreled past them all, following the route of destruction. Tox wasn’t just going between rooms—she was going between floors, buildings. She melted out ceilings, she dropped through holes she made in the floor, she leapt from fire escape to window, shattering them in her wake. Kai quickly became disoriented in such a dense portion of the city.

Innocents were getting hurt left and right, the chase leaving gaping citizens in their wake. Kai needed to stop this.

He caught up with her as she leapt out the next window, corroding glass pieces infected with her acid flying down into the street. She fell into open space—the next rooftop providing a landing spot. She twisted in the air, eyes widening to see Kai jumping down after her.

“Leave me ALONE!” She yelled, frantic. “SON OF A BITCH!”

She flung an arm out at him. He raised a forearm to catch the curtain of acid on his gauntlet—the hissing began anew. Her acid, now warmed up with adrenaline flying and qi in full force, was getting more powerful by the moment. His armor would soon fail him.

They hit the rooftop, her with a further leap than him. She rolled, sprinting the moment she was on her feet again.

“SURRENDER!” He demanded in response, vocoder booming.

“NO!” She jumped up onto the concrete square that gave the building roof access. “I’d rather die than go back to that dungeon!”

She sprung from the concrete block.

A gathering of grey mist zipped through the air passed Kai’s head. He jerked in surprise—the mist rose, quick as a whip, into the air, higher and higher until it was above Tox. But the mist was not mist at all.

In an instant, the small smoke cloud turned into a fully formed General Ash with a murderous look on his face. General Tox screeched in shock—General Ash slammed into her with the business end of his boots, sending her flying back down toward the roof.

The blow sent a wall of force across the rooftop that had Kai skidding to a stop. General Tox’s body broke through the gravel and concrete of the roof, making the building shudder. Kai staggered to keep his footing. General Ash began falling toward the ground, disappearing briefly from Kai’s view, before a cloud of smoke zipped back up to the rooftop and reformed the nineteen-year-old.

The kid’s breathing was raggedy, but his expression was serious and focused.

Kai moved over to the hole in the roof and stepped into it.
He dropped down two stories. This one was an apartment building. Furniture was wrecked. The collapsing infrastructure made it barely recognizable, everything coated in dust. The chaos was suddenly calm. Had General Ash killed her with that kick? No. The acid was all around them. She had been the cause of the wreckage. She had softened any material she’d come into contact with. Water was leaking somewhere.

In a pile of rubble, near a window, General Tox lay, breathing with a certain hiccup that spoke of a damaged lung. Even as she lay, she was starting to sink through to the next floor. Her body trembled, but she was struggling her way to pushing herself up.

A bath of flames appeared around her. She cried out—Unlike the others he had purified of acid that day, he did not bother to protect her from the heat. The acid around her burned away, her skin blistering. Her body attempted to produce more, but Kai grabbed her wrist and her front armor to discourage her.

“That is enough!” He commanded, squeezing her wrist. “You have done enough!”

“Let me go!” She sobbed. Her voice broke as she shrieked, “Let me GO!”

Feet hit the ground at Kai’s side. General Ash let go of the water-gushing pipe he had used to climb down after them, half drenched. The water was dampening the apartment’s plush carpet. The kid’s expression was wary, flickering to Kai to gather some idea of what he should do.

Kai warmed his grip in warning. “You are beaten, general. Surrender. You chose to betray the Empire. The consequences you face are no one’s fault but your own.”

“The rebellion—” She choked—there was blood on her lips. Bad sign.

“The rebellion cannot stand up to the Empire,” he squeezed her wrist until she screamed. “No one can. Not even us. Surrender.”

“No,” she whispered, coughing. Tears filled her eyes. “No. This can’t be it. This can’t be all there is. I won’t go back there.”

Something else was wrong—she was hurt somewhere he couldn’t see. He leaned in closer. “Tell me who you were contacting. The Empire…it can be saved. I will do everything I can to keep you out of that dungeon if you just tell me.”

“No,” Tox whispered again. “She’ll do it. The rebels will beat you. You’ll pay. But I won’t—I can’t go back.”

“She?” Kai shook Tox by the breastplate. “She who?”

Tox’s eyes focused on Kai. She managed a smirk on her trembling lips. Then, she spat.

He jerked his head upward in time to avoid taking the dissolvent to the eye. It splatted against the cheek of his mask. He felt it began to erode even before it touched his skin, the chemical reactions causing it to warm. He reached up to dig a heated finger down through where his mask was melting—like cauterizing a wound, the heat stopped the spread.

Ash called out a warning through a gravely voice, startling him by grabbing his shoulder. “Commanda'—!”

The blade came up, swift. Kai shot a hand out, ready to catch the dagger in its path to the chink in his armor.

His hand caught nothing. Tox’s blade sunk into the soft of her own throat and up through her jaw. She died instantly, eyes going slack and body stilling, even as her throat seized up in confusion. Gurgling sounds from her mouth merged with the gurling of the water pipe, still pouring into the space.

He and General Ash both stared at the hand curled around the dagger’s hilt. Neither moved for a long moment. The commitment to take one’s own life in such a brutal fashion…

It was chilling. And…familiar to Kai. Something old stirred in his chest. A yearning. He pushed it down.

“Holy shi’,” General Ash murmured, his voice broken and hoarse from his earlier mistake. “She’s dead.”

Kai grunted and gently released the arm of the corpse. Tox’s eyes, even half lidded, seemed to glow with that sick green color. He became aware of the ache in his other hand—it radiated down from his wrist and up his arm. He pulled it closer to himself. Kai glanced at Ash out of the corner of his eye.

“Why the hell di’ she do tha’?” Ash asked, looking up at Kai with eyebrows pulled together in genuine confusion. “What was she so afrai’ of? ‘Go back’ where…?”

His voice trailed off as the general got a look at Kai’s face. The last spite that Tox had spat at him had eaten away his lower mask to destroy what was left of his vocoder and reveal enough of his face to shock Ash. The young man quickly looked away, as if to preserve Kai’s dignity.

Kai sighed and, without the vocoder, the sigh was audible, echoing through the melted line down his mask.

His real voice sounded wearier than usual. “Nothing to concern yourself with. Are you hurt?”

“…No.”

“Good. Leave her. We have civilians to evacuate out of harm’s way. Then you are going to get medical treatment. Go on.”

General Ash hesitated, then nodded. “Ye’, sir.”

He vanished in a puff of smoke, which filtered up through the damaged building. Kai spared Tox a glance. The woman’s hand was still gripped around the knife, the other resting on a chunk of concrete. Her hair had come undone, splayed behind her, turning from green to bloody red. The clothes on her body began to hiss in contact with her blood.

The only thing she’d had left was fear. The rebellion had given her something more. How could Kai fault her for that? Unfortunately, it didn’t make her any more innocent, no matter how deeply Kai understood.

Kai turned away.

-

Skylor Chen was less than ecstatic to be given babysitting duty.

It was not that she didn’t like Lloyd. It was true that the prince was sometimes annoying, but only in the same way that any child was. The naivete. The boundless optimism. The endless running mouths. She could handle all that without a problem. She may grow tired of it eventually, but for the most part, she would be just fine.

But being in Shadowspire dragged at her.

The air of the valley tasted like rot. The twenty-four hour darkness made the shadows loom so much longer. She got twitchy. And, no matter where in the valley she was, she could sense the dark hurricane of corrupted power that was the emperor. It was a constant physical weight on her shoulders, warning her away. She was glad every time she left this forsaken place. She didn’t know how Sho managed to sleep anywhere near here.

In times like these, she wished she was a normal person, unable to sense the pit of rage, without all these responsibilities she’d never asked for. Not that there were many times she didn’t wish for that.

She breathed through her nose, the only thing keeping her from gagging being the too-sweet candy in her mouth. It was the most obnoxious flavor that jeju came in, so it did the best job of overpowering the stench of His Majesty Supreme’s putrid qi. At this point, she’d been using the same coping strategy for so many years that if she attempted to suck on the same candies out in Ninjago, she’d probably spiral into an immediate mess.

She swished the candy from one cheek to the other when the tacky surface began to stick to her mouth. It left behind a tingling residue.

“You look rather elegant today, Your Highness,” Skylor commented passed the candy in her mouth as she walked, hands folded behind her. A migraine was already beginning to beat at her skull, her tight hairdo pulling at her temples. “Did I miss an occasion?”

The prince glanced over at her, pulling the base of the electric pen from between his teeth. “Uh—Yes. Yeah, we have been meeting with some of the aristocrats today that are going to be included in the parade and…uh…”

He lost track of what he was saying, eyes distant. He had been mumbling to himself about logistics all morning. She had thought he’d been worrying about his coronation—but the planning committee had been met with the same distracted interest that she had been. Clearly, there was something else on his mind.

There was a purpose in his stride. He held onto a notebook and an information tablet, patting the electric pen against his cheek when he wasn’t gnawing on it. With the amount of silver-embroidered robes he was wearing, one would expect him to carry himself with a bit more grace. It seemed that Lloyd would never change, prince or not.

“And…?” Skylor prompted.

“Yeah?” His eyes jumped to her again. “Oh. Yeah. Just a lot of last minute preparations. The chamberlain has been trying to encourage me to take an interest, but honestly, the whole thing just seems like a waste of the Empire’s time. Do you have any idea how much money is going into this? It is just ridiculous! All to parade me around a couple city districts! They’re bringing in a bunch of Pandaphant tamers. Pandaphants. I don’t even know what they’re for! We could be using this kind of tax money funding community programs!”

Skylor blinked at him. “What?”

“That’s what I said!” Lloyd nodded, as if she had concurred. He raised his pen. “But no, I don’t get a say until after all the money is spent and the festivities are over.”

Skylor watched him out of the corner of her eye as if, at any moment, he may grow a second head. She threw a look toward the two Skulkin following around behind them—but the two bonemen continued on, as brainless as ever, and completely unsympathetic to her confusion. The prince talking about…community programs and how the empire should spend it’s money? Sho hadn’t been kidding when he’d said Lloyd had liked their city trips.

“…Right,” she politely agreed. “And where are we headed now?”

Lloyd paused. Quite literally, he abruptly stopped walking in the middle of the hallway, pulling up his escorts of Skylor and the bonemen with him. They formed an immediately blockade in the hall—which was unfortunate, considering the palace was buzzing with activity, like a hornet’s nest that had been poked by a stick. Servants and committee members were flitting in and out, the majority of them down at the base below them.

Colonel Zichen had seemed about to dirty his britches with how dissatisfied he was with his base being turned into an impromptu parade preparations camp. But the parade was set to begin at the mouth of Shadowspire after the prince’s coronation party, so there wasn’t much space else to place them.

“Oh, right!” Lloyd tapped his pen to his head. “This way, actually.”

They backtracked a hall, then went into a different hallway, this one along the main courtyard. Skylor was already confused as to where she was, and after another hallway, she was hopelessly lost.

“Where are we going, Prince Lloyd?” She asked bluntly.

“Just visiting my friend,” he told her. “I asked her to look over a few proposals I have written up for after my coronation.”

“Interesting,” she hummed. A trio of muttering planners in tall hats moved aside to let them pass—they bowed, but were still obsessing over the documents in hand. “And what are these proposals, exactly?”

Lloyd glanced around, but everyone was in their own worlds of concern. He shrugged and told her, “Most of them are for Governor Zenji—Kai has spoken highly of him before, so I figure he might be the most open to my plans. But some of them are for Political-Military Affairs because we have been at war for more than fifty years and it has gone nowhere, and somehow I doubt my father had sent many diplomatic parties to discuss terms with the Serpentine—Oh, here we are.”

Lloyd didn’t bother knocking on the door—Skylor doubted he had ever been taught such a courtesy. He just took up the handle and twisted it himself, inviting them inside.

The Skulkin took up stations outside the door, like this was a regular occurrence for them.

Skylor took a deep breath through her nose before following the prince. The candy clacked against her teeth. She hadn’t had this much energy at eighteen. Well, seventeen, she supposed. In fact, she had been rather tame. Skiddish. She had known her place. Lloyd was a good kid, but First Master, was he a spoiled brat. She had never known if Sho had elected to ignore that fact or if he genuinely did not care.

Skylor closed the door behind them.

“Pixal!” Lloyd greeted. Skylor tensed. “I have those proposals we talked about! Would you proofread them for me?”

Skylor’s hand closed over the hilt of her odachi on her belt.

“Of course, Your Highness,” a robotic feminine voice said, all mechanical, with no human inflections.

The room was a guest room of the palace. It was not quite as grand as Lloyd’s bedroom was, but it was ravenously expensive nonetheless, with the blacks, greys, and violets painting across the room to claim it as imperial. They were lucky to have cell-like windows lining the top of one of the walls, cold brick wafting a chill into the room. But the bed was large and plush, the desk beautifully carved, and the fireplace lit with a cold purple flame.

The guest of the room was an android. Skylor knew this android—it was Cyrus Borg’s personal creation. Androids were notoriously associated with rebel forces—and her master was a known sympathizer.

The android, according to law, did not wear a fake skin or attempt to conceal what she was. If she attempted to, it would be taken as an attempt at espionage and she would be destroyed on the spot. Instead, fake, silvery hair that appeared to be created through welding sat on a head of obvious metal nature. Her eyes, however, were almost uncomfortably intelligent, a bright holographic green.

She paused in her simple white and grey kimono to give Skylor a curated smile.

“Oh, hello. You are the First Imperial General, Skylor Chen. I am Pixal, the Primary Interactive External Assistant Life-form of Cyrus Borg. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

Skylor glanced at Lloyd, wary. “Your Highness, I’m sorry to question you, but are you sure this is a ‘friend?’ I thought you were referring to…someone else. Someone human.”

Lloyd frowned all sadly, as if he were disappointed in her. Skylor raised an eyebrow. “Come on, general, don’t be like that. Pixal is a good person.”

“She is not a person,” Skylor grumbled. She eyes the android, pointing a damning finger her way. “Why are you in Shadowspire, ‘droid?”

The android said matter-of-factly, “I am a hostage.”

Skylor’s grip on her odachi wavered. She had not been briefed on this. Sho would have mentioned it, wouldn’t he? But Lloyd was nodding along in confirmation.

“I…see,” Skylor accepted, straightening. “Who ordered this?”

“It was an order from His Lordship Commander Shogun, as far as I am aware,” the android bowed her head, slipping her hands together beneath her sleeves as she did. “My creator views me as family, you see, so I believe I am being used as insurance of his loyalty.”

“Who would care so much about a robot?”

There was a flicker of something in the android’s expression, but whatever it was disappeared before Skylor could recognize it. Skylor’s interest was peaked. What would a robot have to hide in it’s face?

The prince moved, placing his body firmly between the android and Skylor. Skylor’s hand re-gripped her odachi’s hilt, tension crawling up her spine—she did not like such a threat being at the prince’s back.

“Skylor, please, I promise that she is perfectly safe,” Lloyd assured her. “She’s my friend.”

“Does the Shogun know how good of friends you are?” She asked him, just as disapproving of him as he seemed to be of her.

“Yes,” Lloyd defended, frowning. “Of course he knows.”

His ‘I’ll tattle on you’ glare was unimpressive. This kid was supposed to be inheriting the Empire?

This must be where his talk of policies was coming from. Isolated in the palace with Sho gone so often over the month, this rebel android had gotten into his head to use him to enact the whims of her masters. The poor, pampered prince hadn’t stood a chance.

Shink! Metal slid from her saya. She grabbed a handful of the prince’s hanfu lapels and dragged him aside. With her enhanced strength, it was easy to withdraw the two handed weapon and whip the blade up to the android’s metal neck.

“Skylor! Stop it!” Lloyd yelped, lunging to hug her sword arm with his gangly body, but her grip on his hanfu was unwavering, and even hanging off of her, his weight felt like nothing. Her sword arm remained steady. “I said stop it! Put the sword down!”

“You.” Skylor ignored Lloyd, giving the android her cold gaze. “You may have the prince convinced but you will not fool me. I know what you are. I know what you are trying to do. It won’t work. And if you try anything funny, I will not hesitate to run you through. You will no longer speak to the prince without an imperial official present. In fact, you will not even speak until you have permission to speak. Do you understand me?”

The android raised her chin. It could be passed off as her self-preservation code lifting her head farther from the threat of the blade—or there was an intent there for Pixal to look down at Skylor passed her nose as if she could feel contempt for the woman.

The android’s tone remained lifeless. “I understand, general. I apologize for any offense I may have caused. It was not intentional. I have only attempted to fulfill all of His Highness’ requests as well as I could.”

“Sword—down!” Lloyd grunted, trying and failing to use his body weight to wrestle Skylor’s arm into submission.

Skylor complied and dropped the blade lower. She hauled Lloyd off of her so that she could safely sheath her blade before releasing him. He huffed and brushed off his robes, puffed up like an angry kitten beneath his makeup.

“Relax,” the prince grumbled. “She’s just been checking my grammar, not re-writing our military codes. I’m not an idiot. This tablet doesn’t even have internet access—I’m not allowed, remember?”

He held out the tablet, waving it up and down a bit for her to take it. She flipped the candy over in her mouth—it was almost dissolved. She checked the tablet—he was right. She handed it back with a nod. She was sure that the android could connect to the internet just through her robotic brain, but at least she wasn’t hacking into any of their secure communications through the prince.

“Thank you,” Lloyd sighed, taking it, then handing the tablet to Pixal.

The two of them sat at the edge of the bed, Pixal pointing out a few language issues with whatever Lloyd had written up on the tablet. He would nod and take it back long enough to adjust it, Pixal waiting with her hands in her lap. Skylor lounged on the desk chair, both of them well within her eyesight.

When the android turned her head to the side, there was a glowing ring spinning with color at her temple. It spun a serene blue. Skylor caught herself staring at it a few times. Everything about the robot was so…alien and yet so human.

Lloyd thought out loud about some of what he’d included in his proposal—Skylor got the distinct feeling that if she hadn’t been there, Pixal would have added her own thoughts to the discussion. When the prince stood up to excuse himself towards the bathroom, Skylor stood from the desk chair.

“May I?” She asked, reaching a hand out. “I won’t change anything.”

He hesitated, then shrugged, handing her the tablet. “Sure. Let me know if you see any issues, I guess.”

Skylor nodded and sat next to the android at the foot of the grand bed. Pixal did not shift uncomfortably next to her, but Skylor saw the light at her temple flicker a brief yellow before sliding back into blue.

Skylor tugged her leather glove off in order to interact with the holoscreen. Her bare finger could not sense the chill of the screen, not with the fire simmering in her gut.

Skylor scrolled down the essay of text. For how little experience Lloyd had in the world, he had still been granted the highest education that the Empire had to offer, so his letter was professional and well-written. It was optimistic, sure, and perhaps a bit too trusting, but that was quite enduring compared to some of the passive aggressive correspondences that Skylor had acquired before.

“Those look like they were painful to receive,” Pixal said.

Skylor’s eyes flickered up—the android’s metallic finger was pointing at Skylor’s own hand. Without her glove on, scars were visible criss-crossed over her palm, erasing any trace of the natural folds of her skin. A fortune teller would have a hell of a time trying to get a read on her.

She closed her hand, unable to hide the scarring that continued out of her fist. “They were. Not that you would understand what that means.”

She scrolled. Pixal was quiet for a moment.

“I can approximate,” Pixal admitted, folding her hands back into her lap. “My design includes the closest imitation possible of nerve endings and pain stimulation. My creator ensured it personally, although I can shut down those processors if need be.”

Skylor’s finger hovered over the screen. “That seems unnecessary. I thought you said he saw you as family.”

“It was not for any cruel reason, I assure you. It is simply an ingenious strategy that nature created to know when there is something out of alignment. It makes me aware of when my parts are damaged or are in danger of being damaged. As I said, I may block that code should it become a hindrance.”

Skylor tried to focus on the prince’s proposal. I wish that we could do that, too. It would have saved Skylor a lot of grief. Seems like it was true that androids were better than humans already. It was only a matter of time before they surpassed elementals, too. Good riddance, she huffed. They can have my job.

Pixal was far from perfect, it seemed, because she failed to take Skylor’s silence as a hint. Instead, she pressed, “What happened?”

Skylor glowered her direction, finger beginning to tap on the screen as she struggled to focus. The ghost pain of a knife against her palm felt cold. She subtly itched it away.

“The emperor?” The android asked.

Skylor snorted. Bold of her to speak ill of the demon in his own home.

Pixal hummed—a human-like noise. “The Shogun?”

“No,” Skylor snapped, glaring.

The android’s artificial eyebrows raised. You sure about that? She seemed to be asking. The idea of Sho hurting her was, at this point, insulting.

The general scowled, her fist tightening. “My father. I stole one of his artifacts to sell for money when I ran away. He punished me for my thievery. That is all. And I don’t remember giving you permission to speak.”

“Lord Chen, yes?” Pixal’s glowing eyes flickered down. She didn’t have pupils, making her gaze all the more piercing. “I recall that he was removed from his position and executed for treachery. The media was never given further details.”

Treachery, Skylor scoffed. Try a coup. “He raised and trained an illegal military force and had plans to invade Shadowspire. Even if the emperor hadn’t caught wind of it, it wouldn’t have worked. But he was a fanatic. Thought he was the chosen of the First Master. And he died like the fool he was. You can tell that to the media. Feel free to direct quote me.”

“He died like a fool,” Pixal repeated, but—Skylor flinched. The android had said it in Skylor’s voice. The android smiled at Skylor like they were sharing a joke. Her voice switched back to normal. “I will make sure the quote is included.”

A chill went down Skylor’s spine. The robot was completely unaware of how unsettling she had just been.

Skylor reignited her scowl. “Do not do that again.”

Anything human in Pixal’s expression flattened out. “I apologize. It was an attempt at ‘humor,’ not meant to offend.”

“Yeah, well, it was creepy,” Skylor said sharply. “People generally don’t react well to something that is not human pretending to be human.”

“I am sorry.”

Skylor returned to ignoring the robot.

“Why did you try to run away?”

The general just about cracked the screen in her hands. “Were you not programmed with social cues?”

“I was,” Pixal blinked.

Clearly, Skylor thought with a roll of her eyes.

“Why does any kid try to run away?” Skylor said. “Everything was awful. I wanted a different life. I was just my father’s weapon he would topple the throne with.”

“…You are still a weapon,” Pixal observed.

“Yeah, thanks,” Skylor drawled, swiping the screen up. Had Lloyd fallen in? He needed to come back and save her from this conversation. “I noticed. Back then I was immature and stupid. I hadn’t realized yet that this is all I’ll ever be. I know better, now.”

“…I understand. I, too, was made with a specific purpose in mind. But my father has assured me that with life comes freedom. I may have been created for the reasons of others, but I have the ability to chose who I will be for myself. That is what it is to be alive.”

Skylor stared at the robot. The metal-plated face, where Skylor could see the places that it had been welded together, was unyielding.

Pixal really believed that she was alive. That a human man, Cyrus Borg, who had made her out of ones and zeroes, could be her father. And she was lecturing Skylor about what it meant to be alive.

Being alive meant pain. It meant struggling and fighting and digging her nails and teeth into what she wanted if she was planning on keeping it. It meant holding and holding and holding no matter what met her head on because if she ever gave up she would be dead. Being alive had never meant freedom. Skylor had given up on anything like that long ago.

Before she could start to imagine what it would feel like for a robot neck to crack under her grip, the door to the washroom opened up and the prince re-joined them. If he noticed the icy atmosphere wafting off of Skylor, he didn’t mention it, nor did Pixal. Skylor retreated back into herself, stroking the hilt of her odachi to ward off the ghosts of blades on her skin.

A while later, a knock on the door. Skylor was more than happy for the excuse to get to her feet and stretch her legs. Pixal and Prince Lloyd hardly even lifted their heads from the notebook they spoke over, over-excited, in Skylor’s opinion.

She pinned the fresh hard candy between her teeth and opened the door.

A middle-aged servant stood beyond the Skulkin’s massive guard. His face was perfectly blank, somehow managing to look less emotive than even the android in the room behind Skylor.

Skylor greeted him when the servant hesitated. “Good morning. Is there a reason we are being inturrupted?”

“General, good morning. His Imperial Majesty has requested an audience with His Highness, Prince Lloyd. He calls for him right away.”

Skylor raised an eyebrow into the room behind her. Lloyd had perked up at the words, a confused expression on his face. He even looked a bit irritated. Skylor had known a time when the boy would have burst with an excited grin at a summons from his father.

“Alright, message received,” Skylor told the servant. “We will be there shortly.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the servant bowed once more. “I must inform the general that His Majesty’s request was for the prince and the prince alone.”

Skylor narrowed her eyes. “We will be there shortly. You are dismissed.”

The servant vanished down the hall.

“Ugh,” Lloyd grumbled, collecting his notebook and standing from the bedside. “What does he want now?”

“You don’t know?” Skylor asked.

The prince shook his head. He reached up to feel across his head of hair gel, apparently checking to make sure everything was still in place. He gave Pixal a short goodbye, and the android waved.

The ginormous black doors that opened from the main courtyard into the reception hall were thrown open, with servants and planners streaming in an out. In the center of the chaos, the Lord Chamberlain stood, in flowing noble’s robes and a hat tall enough for him to be picked out of the crowd. He was crowded by others in kimono and hanfu with papers in hand or tablets out between them. Some were discussing amongst each other—and even from a distance, Skylor could see the vein in the Chamberlain’s forehead pulsating violently.

She cracked a grin despite herself and coughed into her fist to hide it. She had never seen him look so harried behind his spectacles. Every time he began to speak, another person spoke over him, prompting him to close his mouth in frustration.

His hawk-like eyes picked the prince out the instant that the Skulkin marched into the room. In an instant, the man was storming toward them, the resting scowl on his face even fiercer than usual. Skylor braced herself for a lecture.

Lloyd shot her a terrified expression and attempted to duck into the crowd, but his path was just as swiftly blocked by the elderly man.

“Your Highness,” the man spat, so much taller than the boy. “Why have your tutors reported that you have not been attending classes the last few days? And your excuse had better be nothing short of your illness returning and your deathbed approaching!”

Lloyd winced. “I’ve been busy—!”

“Busy!” Chamberlain Noble howled. His voice echoed in the room, uncaring of the servants. “Busy, he claims! Prince Lloyd, please, inform me of what could possibly be more important than your upcoming coronation that would cause you to abandon your mandatory studies!”

Lloyd’s face flushed red with shame, the hall quieting significantly at the loud chastisement directed towards the prince. The boy looked at Skylor for help—she pretended to not notice and tried not to feel too satisfied. He’d asked for this, wasting all of his time consorting with a rebel android.

“I-I–” the boy stuttered. “My father has summoned me. Now isn’t a good time...”

The chamberlain pressed his wrinkled lips together. He seemed to remember himself. “Of course he has. What a timely summons indeed. Go! We will be discussing this matter further, your highness, mark my words.”

Lloyd nodded, too embarrassed to properly respond, humble enough to have his chin lowered.

Skylor prodded his arm. “Let’s go, your highness.”

Let’s get this over with.

However reluctant he’d been to see his father just a moment earlier, he hurried to get out of the receiving hall, lifting his skirts and fumbling with his notebook and tablet. The imperial guards at the throne room doors took ahold of the large, dark rings and began to pull the doors open.

A cold burst of air wafted out as the seal between the rooms broke. It silenced the milling servants further—the hall uncomfortably quiet as the cavernous room was opened. Skylor followed Lloyd’s footsteps like a shadow—until her arm was grabbed.

Her head snapped over, quick and dangerous, to the imperial guard who had caught her. To his credit, his grip did not faulter. Under the skeleton helm, intelligent brown eyes bore into her.

“The prince was summoned alone,” the guard told her firmly. “General.”

Her own gaze bore into his skull. “Release me, now.”

For a few seconds, she thought he wouldn’t. She was painfully aware than the wary silence that had fallen over the room now turned to outright tension.

But then the guard did let her go. She, of course, still outranked him, no matter the orders the palace guards had been given, and the empire did love it’s hierarchy.

Prince Lloyd hadn’t even noticed, far into the room as he was. Skylor slunk in after him, the hair on the back of her neck standing on edge as the doors sealed behind them once more.

Skylor properly lowered to her knee before the dais. Prince Lloyd stood next to her on his feet, crossing his arms and frowning.

On the dais, the demon sat on his throne. And, standing next to him, as if she had just as much right to be there, was a young woman dressed in white and imperial purple. Her face was unblemished with the chalk white painting it, pale colored hair elaborately done up. It made the bright red of her lips stand out all the more, bloodied over tendon and bone. She looked vaguely familiar, but Skylor knew who she was from Sho’s complaints.

Lady Harumi Kurogane. The upstart daughter of the dead politician. Who was she? To stand there the way she was, above Lloyd, the Prince of the realm?

The purple flame separating them from the dais seemed to make the distance much wider.

“Father,” Lloyd greeted, eyeing Kurogane with a disgruntled glare. “You asked for me?”

Skylor pressed her tongue tight to the orange candy.

“My son, of course,” the voice rumbled, like it came from every corner of the room. Skylor tensed. “We have important matters to discuss. Come, take your seat.”

Lloyd glanced at Skylor with concern, but followed his father’s command. She had not been given permission to rise—the emperor wasn’t likely to, either. Her punishment for entering uninvited was for her to remain kneeling, with her head bowed, until Lloyd was dismissed.

Her knee was already numbing. She let out a silent exhale and ignored it.

Lloyd walked around the side of the platform, climbed the steps, and went to his throne next to the emperor’s human-bone masterpiece. The prince’s throne was much humbler and less disease-inducing, made of dark wood with the beautiful carving of a phoenix creating the illusion that a large creature had been petrified in the shape of a exuberant seat.

Kurogane curtsied at his approach and murmured a silky greeting. Lloyd ignored her. Oh, cold. Skylor had to, again, suppress a smile at the drama. This was all the entertainment she got, after all.

“You will come of age in only a few days,” the emperor murmured. The message was clear. This conversation was private. “And I have been pondering what it will mean for you to shoulder such responsibility. I do not doubt your intelligence, nor your compassion. But the world is cruel. And I fear the day may come wherein I will no longer be able to protect you.”

“You won’t need to protect me—”

“I know,” the emperor cut Lloyd off firmly. “I know. You are so full of determination and pride. I am glad. But such things are unfounded. You are naive—because you are safe. And though it pains me to wish for one over the other, I will always, always, prefer you to be safe.”

“What are…What are you saying? And why is she here again?”

“Were you to have someone by your side, someone with the will to do what needs to be done in my absence, I would rest easier. You will have no need to ever handle the putrid masses beyond the valley. You can continue to live safe and free and happy, without the responsibility, even in the event of my untimely end. There will be no need for the duties of a Crown Prince—”

“Wait—”

“No dealings with the pathetic species for you to endure—”

“Father—!”

“And, most importantly, no risk brought on yourself—”

“Absolutely not—!”

“Lloyd!” The emperor boomed. The room shuddered with his shout.

Lloyd flinched back, bumping into the phoenix of his chair. His eyes were wide with injustice, jaw clenched tight. Skylor didn’t quite understand what they were referring to—until she caught the deliberately hidden smirk that Kurogane had on her face, otherwise calm and perfectly poised behind the emperor’s view.

Lloyd’s eyes flickered between his father and the young woman frantically—even jumping down to Skylor, as if she could do a thing.

“I am the emperor,” Garmadon reminded his son harshly. “You do not get a say in the decisions that I make for my realm and for my line. You will do as I say, as is your place in the world, along with every other living being under my rule. And today, I command that you will be betrothed to the daughter of Tenno Kurogane with the intent of marriage. The proclamation will be made at the celebration of your coronation in Shadowspire in three days’ time and she will join you in your introduction to the city.”

Lloyd’s mouth dropped open, the red returning to his face, this time of anger—and a hint remaining of terror. “You—You can’t do this! She’s a snake! She’d sooner push me off a cliff than marry me!”

“That isn’t true, Lloyd,” Kurogane said, her voice heartbroken, reaching out for him. The smirk had vanished. “We’ve been friends since we were children. You looked after me when my parents passed, you supported and provided for me. All I have ever wanted and will ever want is to do the same for you. Let me take care of all the messy parts of the Empire. You’ll get to live a life free of responsibility and stress with me by your side, traveling as you wish, doing whatever you can dream of. Isn’t that what anyone would want?”

“NO!” Lloyd shot to his feet, backhanding her fingers away. She reacted as if she’d pulled her wig off in public, gasping. The prince fumed. “That will never be what I want! I don’t care about being safe! I care about our people! Father, I’m not going to let you push me aside and give everything you’ve built to her! This isn’t protecting me!”

“You…”

The emperor stood up. His form towered over the room, even his lower set of shoulders at the height of Lloyd’s head. The demon’s cloak billowed, his dark aura rising with him. Skylor’s fingers twitched down, curling around the hilt of her sword. Lloyd didn’t waver, hands clenched at his sides. The yellowed bone-crown was a violent contrast in the dark room.

“You do not let me do anything, boy,” Emperor Garmadon warned lowly. There was qi infused with his voice, making it feel as if it were squeezing Skylor’s very heart. “Remember your place. You are my son. Nothing less, but nothing more. I have made my decision with your interests in mind. Are you refusing me?”

The room was silent. Skylor held her breath, her body still, trained. Ready.

Lloyd’s voice trembled. “…Yes. I am. I won’t marry her. Ask anything of me, Father, but please, don’t make me do this. I will be miserable for the rest of my life.”

The emperor did seem to hesitate. Then those red eyes turned away from his son and pierced through the violet licks of flame.

“I did not give you permission to rise, general.”

Skylor’s muscles locked up. She hadn’t even realized she had shot to her feet, her hand wrapped firmly around her odachi, positioned to draw. But when the emperor had risen so violently before the prince…

“Do not leave Lloyd alone with Garmadon.”

“Why?”

“He isn’t used to Lloyd challenging him like he has been. I don’t know what he’ll do if Lloyd takes it too far.”

“You don’t seriously think…”

“…I don’t know.”

Her body had reacted before she’d had time to think.

She released the odachi like she’d been burned. Skylor averted her eyes to the carpet and dropped down to a knee. “I apologize, your majesty, I—”

“Be silent,” the demon commanded.

Her lips sealed immediately. Even she couldn’t tell whether it was his telekinesis or her own reaction. And with that block, her throat was choked up. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t breathe.

The oppressive red glare left her. “Lloyd. Be on your way. You have festivities to prepare for.”

Lloyd stared at him, a vulnerability in his face, lips parted, with no words coming out. The betrayal there was…almost unbelievable. He genuinely could not believe that his father was doing something like this to him.

Skylor’s chest began to burn.

“Father…”

“Go,” the emperor demanded, throwing a frustrated hand from Lloyd toward the door as he turned away.

The prince seemed to be frozen in place. Skylor urged him to move with her eyes as her vision began to waver, lungs beginning to scream louder and louder. The boy didn’t move until Kurogane, with pursed lips, reached out for Lloyd.

“Lloyd, hey—”

The prince leaned back from her hand, shaking his head. He pushed off from the throne and spun around, his robes flying behind him. The prince marched down from the dais, passing Skylor with a dark, pinched look on his face.

Skylor tried to choke, but nothing came up. She shakily rose to her feet, holding onto the warmth of the fiery qi inside her, to focus on that, instead of the desperation for oxygen. She hid her struggle as best she could, giving the emperor a proper bow before turning to follow after Lloyd.

As she reached the doors, black crowded her vision. The threshold, she thought distantly. Just reach the threshold. Get out of here.

She couldn’t gasp until the THUD of the doors closing behind them. The demonic qi pulled away and freed her breath. She reached out for something to steady her—her hand, thankfully, landed on the stone wall as she attempted to catch her breath without gaining too much attention.

The prince was doing a fantastic job at distracting from her. In the middle of the entry, in front of all of the servants, he’d begun to cry. Skylor had never seen such quiet crocodile tears. She sighed, closing her eyes. Breathe in…breathe out…calm down.

“Your Highness, come with me, let us find somewhere private,” the Lord Chamberlain’s voice murmured at the edge of Skylor’s awareness. “You are perfectly safe. You are alright, my boy, collect yourself. General?”

Skylor opened her eyes, flickering them to where the prince was being shielded by the winged robes of the chamberlain. Any of the elderly man’s frustration from before was contorted into something pinched. He ushered the prince away, waving off any of the planners who approached.

Lloyd’s shell-shocked tears were akin to that of a child’s. His disoriented gaze slid right over Skylor.

The Skulkin shoved unsuspecting servants out of their way in order to follow.

’I need you to watch Lloyd.’ Skylor’s feet got moving after them.

The physician’s room. Skylor was intimately familiar with it. She dug her teeth into the dissolving candy, running her tongue across it to ground herself. The orange flavor sunk into her mouth, fighting against the sick taste until it was forced down.

The chamberlain manhandled the prince toward the examination table in the center of the room. Lloyd allowed himself to be moved down to sit, tears reddening his eyes and a hollow look of shock remaining. He hunched over, choking up, and slapped his hands over his face, pressing his fingers into his eyes. His shoulders shook. Skylor slid in after them, closing the door, where the Skulkin stopped.

“What is it?” Chamberlain Noble asked, hands cupping the prince’s hands around his face. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

The kid shook his head without peeling his hands off, choking up. His expensive robes bunched up under his legs, creases folding in the fabrics.

The chamberlain whipped his head around to glare at Skylor. “General?”

“The prince is now betrothed to that Kurogane girl. He took the news poorly,” Skylor said, leaning against a countertop.

The color drained from the elderly man’s face, his fingers tightening on the prince’s shoulders. He didn’t even seem to notice when his spectacles dipped down his nose. The vein in his forehead looked to be dangerously thrumming. Skylor dimly wondered if she should pose to catch him when his inevitable stroke hit.

“I…see.” A sharp sigh through his nose. “Contact the Shogun right away.”

Skylor cracked the candy between her teeth. “He’s occupied with important business. I’m sure he’ll get in touch soon.”

The prince can learn to wipe his own face. Skylor swallowed the sweet splinters, feeling them drag down the insides of her throat.

“You selfish brat,” the chamberlain snarled at her before pulling away from the prince. “Are you a fool as well? The emperor has consulted no one in this decision. The prince and any spouse of his will soon have the second highest political seat in the seven realms. Do you not know what the consequences of this will be? Lose your pride, girl! Your Highness, I will return shortly.”

He sneered to himself, muttering about the qualifications among the generals, or the lack thereof. Skylor leaned away as the man’s hefty sleeves lashed through the air with his violent turn. He jerked the door open with just as much suppressed anger.

She hadn’t sensed the qi, distracted as she had been. But when the physician’s office blew open, she straightened, pushing off from the ledge table.

The chamberlain stopped short to avoid slamming into the wall of black armor that was filling out the threshold.

The Shogun’s eyebrows rose up in comical surprise on his otherwise blank expression, which would have amused Skylor on another occasion. This time, though, the sight of him had her heart skipping a beat in her chest. His armor was embarrassingly asunder. His leather gloves had been burned up the fingers, leaving red and white pock marks blistering over his skin. The sharp edges of his armor had corroded, one of his gauntlets halfway to disintegrated, and his lower face mask had a canyon ripped out of it that revealed half his nose and cheek, all the way down to the corner of his lips. Those white and red pock marks dusted that area of his face.

Behind him, the shorter and smaller figure of General Ash stood, attempting to look over the Shogun’s shoulder to see why he’d been stopped. The young man looked to be in even poorer shape, the pock marks angrier and redder across his face, his silvery hair lacking his gel, and his armor a half-deteriorated mess. The front of it sported a blackened indent of a hand.

They’d been attacked, no doubt by the mole. Sho had gotten hurt. And Skylor hadn’t been there to protect him.

The flame in her chest felt like it was smothered as she released the element.

“What is it?” Sho’s normal voice echoed out unaided from the hole in his mask. “Where’s—Lloyd?”

His eyes went passed Skylor and the Chamberlain like they weren’t even there. The prince, at the sound of Sho’s voice, looked up from his hands, teary-eyed, with a fresh face of betrayal, as if realizing all over again what his father had decreed.

Sho reached up to unhook his mask, pulling off the spiked helm with his other hand. The armored man moved right passed the rest of them. Skylor blinked—glancing from General Ash to the commander—but Sho hadn’t hesitated in setting the disguise aside on the examination table. General Ash’s eyes were wide and he glanced at Skylor as if she would tackle him for looking at their commander’s sweaty hairline.

“Hey, hey, relax, take a breath,” Sho’s fingers, blistered and mangled, patted Lloyd’s face, then fell to the sides of his shoulders. “Are you hurt? Are you hurt?”

“No, no, I’m alright,” the kid muttered. “I’m alright!”

The chamberlain closed the door behind them, eyeing General Ash. “My lord, the emperor has betrothed Prince Lloyd to the Lady Harumi Kurogane.”

Sho’s face tilted back to listen, turning his reaction away from Skylor. All she gathered was the way that he hesitated before nodding in acknowledgement.

The prince clutched onto the arm straps of Sho’s armor, misty eyes wide. “He can’t do that, right? You can—You can do something, can’t you? I mean—Harumi? I am not going to marry her! That’s ridiculous! She’s been trying to—You can talk to him! Right? He–He listens to you, you’re the only one he listens to.”

Sho didn’t respond. Lloyd became more desperate with each second that passed by. Leather groaned with his tightening grip, even as Sho released his shoulders.

“The phys—” General Ash tried hoarsely. “E’n-ji, where is he?”

Skylor stepped up to the other side of the examination table with a frown. “You both need medical. Are those chemical burns? What happened with the generals?”

Sho nodded to the side in a gesture for I’ll tell you later. Without his mask on, the burn at the corner of his mouth was more obvious, but not even skin deep. The blisters tugged with his frown—stress wrinkles lined his eyes.

“Chamberlain, please send for the physician to treat General Ash. We can discuss any of your concerns upon your return,” the man sighed.

The chamberlain pursed his lips in his irritated way, but bowed his head and picked up his robes to hurry from the room.

General Ash kneaded at his chest with a grimace—the blisters were scattered across his face, resembling sickly acne, making the young man look like a teenager again.

When Sho pulled his hands back from the prince, his fingers were trembling with the burns.
Skylor scoffed and turned towards the sinks along the wall of the room. She dug through a few of the drawers, pulling her sword up tight when the long odachi began to bump against the furniture. She scrounged up some anti-bacterial wipes and ripped open the package, giving Sho a meaningful look.

He shook his head, waving her towards General Ash. “Look after him first. Lloyd, let go. I’m not going anywhere.”

The prince grimaced, but pried his fingers off of the armor. His tears had slowed, a misplaced, crazed hope convincing him that all his problems were solved now that the military commander was in the room. He sniffed, wiping his face with his decorated sleeve.

She forced General Ash to sit next to Lloyd, his legs hanging off the tall table like he was another kid. He scowled the entire time that Skylor patted the wipes against his face—the displeased expression only to hide any winces. A few times, he did hiss through his teeth in pain.

“Oh, don’t be a child,” Skylor chided the young man under her breath, throwing a wipe away to rip open a new one. The burns looked angrier under her attention. She tilted the general’s head back and forth by the chin.

“Why is he doing this to me?” Prince Lloyd was choking up, but he sounded angry again. “Does he…Does he not love me after all? He didn’t even care. I don’t understand. Why?”

Sho muttered a conversation with the prince, who calmed significantly in the next few minutes. They faced into the corner of the room, moving further from the generals. Skylor didn’t overhear them, despite her wanting to eavesdrop—obviously, Sho was trying to keep it private, so she would respect that until he saw fit to include her. If he did not, then it was not her business or her problem to deal with.

“He’s not what I pictured,” General Ash murmured, eyes flickering the commander’s way. “I thought…I don’t know.”

Skylor snorted quietly, cleaning off dirt sticking to the raw skin of his cheekbone. Ash grimaced, caught off guard.

“How did he get the…?” the young general subtly brought a hand up and made an itching motion towards his eye.

Skylor ignored him. “Tell me what happened during the interrogations.”

Ash straightened and recounted the events like a proper little soldier. Skylor took it all in silently, throwing Sho the occasional look. She gathered nothing from him while he was talking to Lloyd—his entire focus was consumed by the boy, his full attention on whatever was being said by the young prince.

Doctor Eun-ji arrived shortly later, taking in General Ash’s tattered skin with a sympathetic haste. He dug through his cabinets and quickly got to brewing—the various healing potions he used having to be prepared freshly every time. With his help, Skylor managed to bully Sho into pausing a moment and getting his hands cleaned off.

The prince, who had so much presence simply in the way he was was dressed, in the way he walked, looked small at Sho’s side. Sho let him hide there, hunched in on himself and quiet while Sho downed the doctor’s drinks.

Later, the Lord Chamberlain reappeared to share quick words with Sho before blessedly taking Lloyd away. The prince seemed reluctant, but Sho assured him to get the kid to detach and leave. The physician caught on to the commander’s intent and lead General Ash into the recovery room next door. Sho and Skylor were left in their privacy—at least for the moment.

“What the—hell is going on?” Skylor was back to clutching onto her sword hilt. “Tox was the mole? She was sick in the head, which aligns pretty damn close with the Empire in my opinion. I can’t believe this. General Shade was cleared, then, I take it?”

“Yeah,” Sho confirmed reluctantly. “We cleaned up and finished the interrogation…albeit I rushed his to get Ash treatment. Central Hospice was flooded and Captain Hutchins is being treated there, now. I ordered General Shade to move his troops into position around Nagas and Morro has fallen in with his troops as backup. I’ll need you to remain here—”

“Come on,” she complained. “If the ninja are there, you might need me. If Tox could cause this much trouble, who knows what the others could do?”

“I’ll handle it,” he murmured. “Morro, the lazy ass, will be there, too.”

“Oh, you’re trusting Morro to watch your back, now? And the prince is engaged? What is the world coming to?”

Sho reached up to dig a knuckle into his temple, an eye roll turning into a full body flinch when his wounds were pressed so roughly. He scowled. “I…don’t even know what to say about that right now. I can’t handle whatever political agenda Garmadon is trying to pull, not with the rebels presenting such a threat. I’ll—We’ll figure it out after the raid and the coronation.”

“What would you even do?” Skylor asked. “Tell His Majesty that the prince doesn’t want to and that’ll be the end of it? This might turn into a mess.”

“A mess I don’t want to think about right now,” Sho quietly begged, squeezing his eyes shut and bowing his head. “Can…Can you wet a paper towel for me?”

Skylor dampened one under the sink faucet. Sho took it, holding it against the burn on his face. He let out a relieved puff. The armor, for once, did not make him look invincible as he was. Her lips tugged down. With his eyes closed, the lines looked even deeper. They looked the same way that Skylor’s did in the mirror late at night. His hand was shaking—he usually didn’t shake so much.

“Is there something else going on?” She said in the air between them.

His eyelids raised a bit, just enough to show her the dull amber there. “…No. I just want to finish this.”

She knew what it was to want it to be over. She nodded.

"Well," she added dryly. "I hope you're not planning on going out in public wearing that hunk of junk."

-

The underground city of Nagas had once been lit with lanterns and colorful fairy lights. There used to be music playing from old radios with poor connection, the patter of children’s feet across the stonework, and the laughter of friends reuniting. The ancient buildings had already been on their way to ruin, but they had been majestic in their age—remains of carvings and designs still supporting the walled-off structures transformed for different uses. Community kitchens, storehouses, temporary homes, training sites.

Now, along the edges of the grand cavern, the fairy lights had been ripped from the walls, curled against the ground and trampled on, leaving shards of glass buried in the thin layer of sand and dust, waiting for the next bare footed-victim that walked across it. Lanterns were smashed into unrecognizable piles of wood—some of which leading to smoke rising over the underground city as someone’s temporary home lost everything it had held.

The cavern was now lit by a pattern of sickeningly white stadium lights, beating down at the heads below, as if to remind anyone holding out that there was truly nowhere left to hide. Any music or giddy celebration had been replaced with the sounds of boots marching in lines, imperial-grade tanks crushing serpentine architecture, and the occasional scream followed by blaster fire. The blaster fire, of course, was always quick to end, and no more screams would follow.

Voices echoed through amplifying speakers. The voices droned, bouncing off the walls of the caverns, and melding together in one humming, dreadful mass. One such voice announced, “Remain in your lines. Any attempt to disobey imperial command will lead to immediate execution. Submit any contraband before reaching the checkpoint to avoid punishment…”

The remains of battle were disheartening. The imperial force had easily overwhelmed the rebels in their surprise. Not a single one of them had been tipped off of the incoming invasion. None had been able to fight back properly, not with General Shade and General Morro being present at the time of the raid, easily destroying any meek resistance. Instead of a valiant attempt to defeat the might of the empire, a massacre had taken place. The rebels, invigorated by whatever Operation Dawn Break could be, had been all too willing to throw their lives away, and it had amounted to nothing but bodies across the cavern stone.

Blood splattered the structures that had been destroyed by imperial tanks crashing through them. A lifeless corpse with a red armband lay on a bed of a blasted-apart woodpile. A child’s teddy bear had stuffing spilling from it’s arm, slightly smoking.

Lines of prisoners shuffled on. Those that had surrendered had been shackled together along a lengthy detaining line. Glowing blue lines of energy connected each shackle to one another, the lighting at the hands of the rebels turning their faces skeletal. The younger ones—the children—had wrists too small to fit into the shackles, so the imperial troopers had instead tied them to other prisoners using rope. Tears stained faces, cutting lines through dirt and grit. The hollow shock in their expressions turned the cavern into a hall of mirrors, each looking the same.

Troopers waved the lines on into awaiting imperial transports, heavy electric hover mobiles with the ramps extended down. The transports crowded the massive collapse in the wall of the cavern—it had once been opened and closed by the Earth elemental when bringing them all to salvation. The empire had used experimental explosives. The casualty count had begun from the moment the rocks had blasted into the unsuspecting refugee encampment.

A sob broke the ominous atmosphere, the announcements dragging on under the harsh lighting.

General Morro watched over the loading of the trucks in the shadow of the collapsed wall. General Shade was somewhere deeper in the city, flushing out any rebels cowering away. He wouldn’t be long—not with his ability to shadow jump. For the moment, this was General Morro’s responsibility.

His eyes lazily slid to the side at the sound of the sob, naturally following it. The sob had come from a child, near the end of one of the lines. She was inconsolable. Her dress and frilly high-socks were dirty, her blonde hair a mess, with a bow sideways on her head. She jerked up and down at the rope on her wrists

The troopers nearby were getting visibly annoyed, one of them snapping at the adult she was tied to to get her to quiet down. The adult, an elderly man, was obviously unrelated to the girl, but he attempted to reassure her, pulling her into a hug. The girl, in response, screamed.

A trooper assigned to the line growled and stepped forward, lowering his blaster to face the girl. “I told you to shut her up—!”

The elderly man, panicked, shook her a bit by the shoulders, speaking urgently to her. She let out another scream, lashing out at the man and forcing him to release her.

The trooper’s patience was short. With the death that already permeated the city, one more seemed like nothing. A forgettable memory. One less annoyance.

General Morro's dark curtain of hair swished with an invisible breeze as his finger twitched within the confines of his cloak.

The trooper lowered his blaster and fired.

It was loud and shocking among the prisoners—many cried out and jerked, unaware of where it was coming from and where it was going.

For a moment, the black mass that appeared from the opening of the wall seemed to be General Shade—a living shadow, who could appear and disappear in a moment’s notice. But the rush of wind that accompanied the form blew General Morro’s cloak to the side, a physical being. The simple enhanced speed of a demigod.

Dust and sand clouded up with the landing, throwing the rebels and the girl who had been aimed at in a cloud of swirling browns. But the girl’s choked sobbing did not cease with the blaster bolt. There was not time for the dust to fall away before the dark figure was marching out from it, storming towards the trooper.

The dark metal was clean and new, not a single blemish on it, as if it had been freshly commissioned. The shapes were even grander than before, an outline of silver now decorating the heavy plate mail. The red obi remained, now with far more adornment of silver and black silk ropes, royal obsidian and diamond hanging around the samurai skirt. The blacksmith had taken liberties with the horned helmet, twisting them into curved horns, but the snarl of the mask was unchanged.

Although the details were different, the form cut the same tall, wide figure, looming over the white-faced trooper.

A hand shot out, the sharp ceremonial talons punching holes into the sides of the blaster. The pockets of plasma inside exploded, making the trooper yelp as the glowing red splattered over the black gauntlets. They nearly missed the trooper.

“Watch your aim,” the Shogun scolded the man, his modulated voice deeper than it had been before, and just as toneless as the first model.

He tossed the mangled blaster at the trooper’s feet.

“None of these prisoners are set for execution,” the commander announced, eyeing all the high-ranking troopers. “They have surrendered. Any stray blaster bolt will lead to a strip of rank. I will see to it personally. Am I understood?”

“Yes, sir!” Echoed loud in the cavern.

Kai scowled under his mask, but turned from the trooper cowering in front of him. Wastes of oxygen, the lot of them. Each more evil than the last. Kai had too much to fucking deal with at the moment to keep every imperial trooper in check. Kai was a monster, but even he would not raise a weapon to an eight-year-old.

He swept away from the crowd, ignoring the eyes on him, and met General Morro’s gaze passed all of the heads of the refugees and shining imperial helmets. The scene had been perfectly within the general’s eyesight. He had not done a thing. He hoped Morro could feel the hatred in his glare. General Morro’s passive expression was even worse than if Kai had been able to see contempt there. Piece of shit.

General Ash gave Morro a wary look as he picked through the rubble of the entrance, lengthening his strides to keep up with Kai. General Morro glanced at him dismissively before returning his bored gaze to the prisoner transports. The younger general’s face was slowly going white. He had not been part of many large-scale operations before. Kai could not spare him any more hand-holding than he could the troopers today.

No. Today, he would face the ninja.

General Chamille had a problem with keeping certain information to herself, but she wasn’t one to overexaggerate. If she was confident that the ninja’s identities could be parsed out using the evidence they gained from this raid, Kai believed her. The resistance was through. They’d cut through the heart, stopped blood from pumping to any of the arteries. The smaller bases in other caverns would be gassed out within the next three days. Any more large holds would not have the support for any terrorist attacks, much less a large-scale operation.

The empire had already captured millions, perhaps even billions, of coin worth of weaponry that had been stored in Nagas. Operation Dawn Break would remain nothing more than an idea. Their further campaign would ensure it. After it all, he would speak to the emperor about Lady Harumi. He’d be in a much more forgiving mood towards Kai when he at long last broke the back of the pesky resistance. It would give him the best chances of changing the oni’s mind. Not that it would be hard—the decision had been so out of left field, Kai had to doubt that it was an idea of the emperor’s own. If Kai claimed the foolish Kurogane child was attempting to manipulate him…the emperor would be less than pleased. So, Kai turned his attention well away from Shadowspire.

As for the ninja…it was now or never. Kai’s hunt was coming to a close and it would be their heads on the wall. Wu’s head.

His body buzzed with anticipation. It allowed him to slide his gaze over the bodies and the gore, to not mind stepping over the severed arm. His mask covered up any of the burning smells, even if that smell included the burning of flesh in the old buildings that hadn’t escaped the lanterns’ destruction.

“…Commander?” General Ash said quietly.

Kai’s mind was focused. The image of Wu was behind his eyelids every time he blinked. The fatherly smile, the kind hands—lies. Manipulation. Kai was going to find him tonight. He was going to kill them all. Let him know what it was. Let that bastard know what it felt like to lose everything. Wu would not even care, not really. But he would fake it. And then Kai would kill him. If there was one damned thing he knew the old man cared for, it was his own sorry life.

“My lord?” Something flickered in his vision. Kai’s burning eyes jumped to the side.

General Ash had wisely not touched him, but he was frowning, pointing toward a wall, half-sunken. Blood splattered the old stone in a pattern every few feet apart. The bodies still lay under it. It was clear what had happened here. They’d been lined up.

“Did you give the order to approve any executions?” General Ash asked.

“No.” Kai could care less. They’d probably deserved it. No, that was not true, he cared. It was wrong. He did not fucking care what was wrong anymore.

General Ash hesitated, then nodded, accepting his non-answer.

‘What are you doing?’ A voice that wasn’t his asked in his head.

“Shut up,” he muttered.

Through his working vocoder, it was loud, that steady volume. General Ash flinched. Kai wanted to snarl, to bang his head against the wall of splattered blood, but he did not do that. He walked.

His eyes flickered up. The tallest point in the city—a half-crumpled old statue of a serpentine woman marked it. It was a few wrecked streets up. Kai’s vision might have been blurred with red, but the deeper he walked, the more the curtain fell away.

The destruction was…horrifying.

The rebels were the enemy. But he knew better than anyone that they were also people. It was difficult to see the spoon and spilled soup and not imagine someone, a human person, getting home after a long day’s work and trying to enjoy their dinner. There was a hand held gaming holo thrown into the sand, the screen cracked—it was still on, the soft music of an adventure game playing—it echoed loud between the empty streets. The ruins, reclaimed and emptied once more aside from the bodies, sung of ghosts.

Kai had seen many scenes like it before. It reminded him of once specific incident—bodies piled on bodies. His own hand setting fire to them to spare them of a fate worse than whatever afterlife they were heading towards.

He should have gotten here earlier, in time to participate in the raid. But even if he had…would he have changed how it had been ended?

The street opened into a sandy courtyard, circular. There were colorful cloths hanging around it, mismatched chairs knocked down before tables, more strung up lights making the area a beautiful one—had they not been half torn down by the invading forces. Salads were scattered, drinks spilled sideways. Kai recognized the re-hydrated milk…he had never liked that stuff. But Zane had insisted that it was for their health. Jay had been the one to complain more than Kai.

‘Perhaps you shouldn’t have killed her, you insane piece of scrap—!’

“Shogun.” His title was purred.

At the circular ledge around the statue, as promised, the woman sat waiting for him. She had a leg kicked up along the ledge, a glass in her hand. A piece had chipped from it, half full of wine—like she’d picked it up from the ground of the common eating area. Had she pried it out of the dead man laying a few feet away from her, blood staining his facial hair, arm stretched out in death?

She smiled at him suavely, twirling the glass around so that the wine swirled inside. “You took your sweet time. I like the new look. Makes you seem more…expensive.”

He scowled at the way she spoke. “Just tell me what you have found, General Chamille. Where is the evidence you are so confident of?”

She finished her drink, throwing it back, then swinging her legs from the barrier. She still wore the form of the identity she had taken on—long dark hair and bangs, beautiful, as she always preferred, and rebel attire of cargo pants and a long shirt.

“Actually, it’s Jisoo, right now,” she chuckled as she stood. She walked up to them, batting her eyelashes and puffing out her lower lip. “And I am hardly a general—rather, I’d call myself a damsel in distress! Can’t you tell? I even had to be rescued by a ninja. I bet you were jealous of how close I was, weren’t you? You could have slit his throat then and there. I thought about it. ‘Sunwalker,’ he called himself.”

Kai grit his teeth. “And you failed to include that in your reports? We could have been running a search on the name.”

“Oh, untwist your britches, it was obviously an alias. I just thought it was interesting.”

She tossed the glass over her shoulder. It shattered against the stone ledge she had been sitting on. General Ash twitched at the loud noise in the dead city, glancing at Kai.

Sunwalker. Kai twisted the name around in his mind despite his annoyance with General Chamille. It plucked at something in him. The same thing that kept that damned voice in his head. Something about it. He’d already deduced that the ninja must be the Master of Speed—no other elemental alive could be as fast as the ninja had been. But the Master of Speed had still been missing when Kai had been with the rebellion—they much have tracked the bloodline down between then and the current day.

The timeline did not quite match up. The ninja had been too old for Wu’s tastes. He must have begun his training late—but the way he moved, his reflexes, his calm calculations in the heat of battle up until that moment…

Sunwalker. A figure from an old anti-imperial movie. It would not be an uncommon alias for a resistance member to use. It was not interesting, all things considered. But the general had called it so.

General Chamille’s—Jisoo’s—smart gaze studied him with a languid smile, like she was laughing at him. What did she know that he did not?

“The ninja, do we know where they are?” General Ash asked, interrupting the two’s staring contest.

General Chamille’s eyes remained on Kai’s for a moment longer before flickering over.

An amused smile sat on her face. “They’re not here. The Blue Ninja was taken to a secondary hideout for treatment. But we’ll find them soon enough. Follow me, boys.”

She swayed her hips, like they had all the time in the world. Kai held himself in check, reminding himself of patience. Like she said, the ninja were not here and this had not been their holdout. They had always been somewhere else. But he would find them, he just had to be patient. He’d been patient for so long, he could manage it for a few moments longer.

Across the cavern, two, three blaster shots echoed.

Kai’s next step hesitated and General Ash’s head swiveled in the direction of the barrage.

“What the hell are they doing?!” Ash cursed.

“Go,” Kai gave permission, flicking a clawed finger.

General Ash nodded sharply, distaste in his expression. All at once, his body burst into a puff of smoke, coming together to densify before flying upwards into the cavern. The cloud of grey shot across the city, vanishing into the shadows of the ceiling.

Kai was sure it was something meaningless—a rebel had tried to hide or another had attempted to fight back—so he kept his focus on his goal.

General Chamille smiled, half-lidded, at him, and continued to lead him on. “I heard General Tox gave you some trouble this morning. Unfortunate, but I suppose we should have seen it coming. I wouldn’t classify torture as a golden persuasion tactic, after all. It only works on occasion. Would you agree, commander?”

“Stop talking.”

“But we haven’t caught up in so long. And I feel like my little field trip down here has let me get to know you better.” Out of the corner of his eye, she sighed.

“I do not care. We are here to complete our mission. Lose the pleasantries.”

“Alright,” she smiled sharply. “Whatever you command. It’s right up this path. I know disgust might be your first instinct, but honestly, he’s grown on me.”

He did not dignify that warning with a response. The two of them rounded a corner. There were no bodies in this section of the caverns. Kai’s breathing came easier for all of a few moments because of that.

They’d reached the massive, rocky wall to the west in the underground city. Being at the base of such a wall really made the scope of the city seem so much larger—the ceiling disappeared into darkness in this section—but there were bright lights set up by his men to make up for it just above where they were. Even then, the sediments of the wall were invisible beneath the layers and layers of paper.

Pinned up, taped up, glued up. Photographs, love letters, posters. Strings of folded origami decorations. More colorful, but burnt out, lights. Dead flowers hung, strung up until they’d dried. Piles of chaos sat at the bottom of the wall. Offerings to thousands of dead. A shrine unlike any Kai had ever seen.

And in the center, with the spotlight blazing down on it…

The cavern tilted. Or at least, it seemed to. Kai locked up his muscles to stay upright, knowing it was all in his mind. Sunwalker. His mind repeated. Sunwalker.

The statue was not ancient, like the serpentine woman. It was not even as old as Garmadon’s statue had been. The corners of it had not been worn down been time. The details…The details were precise. Formed with love. Offerings, the most expensive, exquisite ones, scattered around it, coins tucked against the carved folds of the gi, on the shoulders, like the statue had been given armor of gold, a champion of the the light.

“I know,” General Chamille smiled slow, like a snake. She touched the statue and drew her hand across the shoulders of it, carelessly knocking the coins from it. She hung across it that way, grabbing the jaw of the statue and stroking the cheek with one finger. “I warned you, he’s got quite the mug. But it grows on you. Well, maybe if I was ten years younger, I’d consider it, anyway.”

She playfully slapped the cheek of the statue.

“Now, if you were ten years younger.” She said, looking up at him, caressing the statue’s face. “Who would you have been then, Kai Jiang-Smith?”

The ghost of her nails dug into his face, mirroring the statue. His vision narrowed dangerously.

Kai Jiang-Smith, the Red Ninja. Only him. There was no one else in memorial. No other ninja.

Sunwalker.

The edges were too smooth. It should not be that smooth. No artist was that talented. No one should have known what he had looked like in so much detail. Wu had jealously kept them away from people. ‘To keep them safe,’ he had said.

Kai had not known many people. No one but his team.

No one should have cared enough to even remember him. They had not been working with the rebellion long. They had not taken credit for anything they had accomplished against the empire.

They had been ghosts, back then. Vigilantes. Even other rebels had avoided them, seeing them as the uncontrollable monsters the empire had convinced the world they had been.

There should not have been anyone left to remember him. No one left to build this with their element. No one left to keep using the same damn alias to the point where he had nearly gotten them caught. Sunwalker.

Walker. Jay Walker.

Beneath his gauntlet, where he had wrapped the blue band before sliding his armor on, his arm burned.

The four bed rolls; white, blue, cyan, and black. No red replacement. The crest on the bike. His family’s blacksmith crest. His family’s…

“That is an inappropriate question to ask, boy. You are lucky there are no servants around to tell His Majesty. Forget about them. You are here now, are you not?”

“Chamberlain, please. I just…need to know. Please. It’s been months.”

“…Alright. Alright! Only if you never bring this matter to me again. And you must convince His Highness to stop avoiding his baths. He is beginning to grow pungent.”

“Ugh, fine, whatever. I mean, yes, sir. Just…please.”

“…The men never recovered any bodies that day. None but yours.”

“…Oh.”

Kai…drifted. He drifted above his own body. He drifted above a boy coated in gold and a man encased in black.

A cold he’d never felt before sunk into his bones.

The only one left behind that day…had been him.

His sister, his friends, his family…Nya…they were alive. They always had been.

They were alive.

“I told you the evidence was enough, didn’t I?” Her voice whispered in his ear. He could not even twitch. He did not know if he was breathing. “And now you’re going to find them, aren’t you, Kai? Because you know them. It’ll be easy, even. All you’d have to do…is use this pretty thing of yours.”

Her arms wrapped around from his side and her fingers brushed the underside of his jaw. Before she could hook under the release clasp, his hand shot up to grab her wrist by reflex. She laughed sweetly at him. Her laugh did not sound like Chamille’s laugh. He looked down and jerked back.

She no longer wore rebel attire, but instead had on an imperial gi, stamped with the royal crest, a long odachi at her waist. Red hair, pulled into a braided bun. Less over-the-top attractive as Jisoo had been, but beautiful nonetheless.

“Stop,” he demanded, his voice so weak behind the mask, but coming out as forceful as ever.

“I thought it would help you relax,” the woman claimed with Skylor’s voice. “Would this be better?”

Her voice deepened. She jerked her wrist from his grip.

The general’s body rippled. She was quick and efficient with her transformations, but looking directly at it was never less grotesque than the previous time. Her skin rippled and stretched, sinking into a paler skin tone. Freckles popped out as her nose broke and rearranged into a straighter one. Her face lengthened—her gi only switched colors. A blue band emerged from her clothes, tying itself off at the bicep.

What could only have been Jay’s adult face grinned at Kai. She’d perfected the toothy smile. It hadn’t changed in all the years that had passed.

“Don’t.” Kai was going to vomit. His world spun.

“Wouldn’t it be helpful—” Kai gagged when she spoke in his voice. The voice that had been haunting him since he’d heard it—since he’s begged Kai’s name. Older and matured but still him. “—to see one of the faces you’ll have to fight? He’s the only one I met, but I have a feeling he’ll be easy to kill. He’s soft-hearted. Thinks he’s some sort of hero. Are they all like this?”

Kai grabbed at his own chest armor. He held onto the piece at his collar bone, trying to pull it away, so he could breathe. But he was stuck in it, he was stuck with it, he had been the one to put it on, he had been the one to dig his grave.

He had not had a choice, he had never been afforded a choice in his entire life, because they were gone, because there was no one left, without them alive, there was no hope, so of course Kai had to make the hard decisions, but then—

Jay’s voice, bitter and entertained, laughed at him.

What…What had he done?

Chapter Text

Commander Maike Donovan had been a member of the rebellion since he could remember. The organization itself had deflated and molded into different shapes over the years to fit the times—the Empire’s harsh methods of control forcing them to the brink of extinction multiple times across the decades that they had existed. At some points, they had been so scattered that Maike, old as he was, had nearly seen their hope destroyed for good. But, like cockroaches, the resistance always returned. No matter how many of them were silenced, more bodies were willing to join, the suffering the empire wrought too terrible to bear for everyone. Maike knew that as long as the empire lived in the state that it was in, there would be rebellion to meet it.

He had simply hoped that he would be within the generation to finally see it through to freedom. It had been a dim hope, slowly losing it’s beating heart, for a long while. After all, his years were climbing, and the empire’s war against terrorism had only grown stronger.

Then, she had come, and everything had changed. The rebellion was no longer in a desperate scramble to keep itself alive—it became a force to be reckoned with. What they had been missing before—strategy, networks, long-term planning—she had shone light on it all. And that had brought them to where they were. On the brink of change. After forty-five years of life, of fighting tooth and nail to gain an inch and lose a mile, Operation Dawn Break was going to be the split of the sun through the clouds. As one of the base commanders of Nagas, his own forces would be the ensuring factor in the coming battle.

He had allowed himself to be swayed from hope to naivete when he should have learned the difference long ago. His mistake had cost everything. What had happened to those he’d promised his protection to…there was no one to blame but himself. And because of that, he knew that whatever came next…he would deserve it. For failing his people, for failing his cause, and for failing the Sage, whom had been counting on him to pull through to the Operation.

But he would be damned if he gave the imperial dogs any more than they had already taken from him.

His lip throbbed, swollen a split, as did the side of his face, which must have been a solid mass of bruise after the persuasion he had received at the hands of the second interrogator.

At least they’d respected him enough to put some physical effort in. The first man, in imperial purple with a high-ranking military insignia on his coat, had attempted to play the good cop. He had brought Maike food and water and spoken reasonably, tried to convince Maike that it was in the best interest of his captured troops to cooperate, and in the best interest of what rebels were left out there, scattered now without a headquarters to depend on. The idea that he could be swayed by some honeyed words was by far the most insulting thing Maike could have imagined—he had not said a word, but had gladly taken the food and ate with his polite manners.

Now, the patch of his rebel ranking has been torn from it’s velcro and there was a bit of blood on his shirt that had been absorbed by the red color of the rebellion. After that interrogator had left, frustrated and sneering, Maike had calmly wiped the blood from his nose with the napkin that had remained from his meal.

He shifted his hands still cuffed to the table—the blue glow of his restrains buzzed with a dull energy, the energy wrapped around the ring welded into the metal table. The interrogation room was cramped, cold, and within Imperial Military Police Headquarters, a building eighty stories tall and a few blocks down from the Imperial Center. Maike wasn’t exactly sure how high up he was, but while he’d been blinded with the bag over his head, he’d felt himself shoot up many stories within an elevator cramped with other captive going to interrogations.

One of which was Indi, the only member of the rebel council who had been in Nagas when the city had begun to shake and dirt began to trickle down from the walls. She was a strong, stubborn woman, but Maike knew that when other rebels broke under pressure and revealed her status, she would be brutalized. He prayed to the First Master that she would live through whatever they put her through.

Maike sighed, glancing toward the observation window of the interrogation room. He was, so far, unimpressed by the empire’s legendary tactics of conversion. They seemed to be just as unimpressed with their own results, because he had been left alone for what had felt like an hour. His adrenaline had slowed after he’d managed to get his own pain under control, so now he just felt exhausted and bored, the thrum of his unsteady heart weakening his body.

Whatever they were planning, he just wished they would get on with it. The suspense was going to make his old heart go out before they went another round at him. Or better yet, be done with it all, because he would never reveal what they wanted of him.

Even if he had known the answers to the questions they’d been asking, which he did not.

He slipped a finger under the cuffs to lightly tug—testing how strong they were. Of course, he knew they wouldn’t budge—and they did not under his prodding. He pressed on light bruising instead that had came from his pulling during his beating. His mustache twitched at the faded pain. It was humiliating, being restrained by so thin a piece of metal.

The whir of the ventilation in the room grated at him in the silence.

Maike had little to lose at this point. His free will was all he had left. So, he began to whistle. It hurt to do through his swollen lip, and he had to stop to breathe often, but he did not stop.

It was an old tune, pre-empire, that had survived in his run-down burrow on the east side. His mother had used to sing it to him to put him to sleep. Maike had once done the same to his own daughter. A rare tune of hope and community.

He liked to think that he made someone upset by this small rebellion, because it wasn’t long after that the door to the room opened with a whoosh, disappearing upwards.

His fingers twitched against the cold of the table. It was not the good cop, nor the bad cop. In fact, it was not a trooper nor an officer, whom had swarmed Nagas and taken him captive in the first place.

It was a woman. Even if Maike hadn’t recognized her tall form, the sword at her waist was telling of her position. There were few imperial military members who had no need for a blaster.

Her signature reflective helmet was not in place, revealing a rather flat expression and a smoothed-down military bun. Her face was the first portrait on the resistance’s AVOID AT ALL COSTS list.

Maike straightened.

The woman walked in, a laptop tucked under her arm, her hand occupied with a cup of water. The automatic door slid shut behind her, hiding away the two armored troopers guarding the room. She picked up the chair that had been thrown to the side during his last interrogation, and put it before the table.

She traded the water into her other hand, sat, then put the cup before him.

“Good morning,” she greeted, eyes totally and completely devoid of humanity. “Commander Donovan, is it?”

He lowered his chin. Although he’d remained mostly silent in his other interrogations aside from niceties, he knew better to do so in her presence. Although he was willing to die for the cause, whatever flicker was left in his chest urged him to survive as long as he could manage. That meant answering a high general of the Empire when spoken to.

“That’s right,” he said. “It’s an honor to be worthy of your presence, General.”

General Skylor set the laptop in front of her and opened it. It was an expensive model, the holoscreen one of those with full color rather than the general blue that most citizens used casually. The screen within the frame lit up, although from Maike’s side, it seemed blank. He could see the woman’s face clearly through the frame.

She gestured toward the cup while she typed, not looking at him. “Drink. It’s only water.”

Dry as his mouth was, he obeyed. With his hands chained, he had to duck his head down and it was a bit awkward, but his parched throat thanked him. He figured there were easier ways to drug him than to try and sneak something into water.

The general finished typing, then moved the laptop aside, getting rid of the wall between them. She folded her gloved fingers together on the table.

He gulped, then set the cup aside. Her cold gaze pierced into him.

“Thank you,” he nodded toward the water. “But your men have already tried the whole routine. No matter what you do, I have nothing to say to any imperial. If you’re going to kill me, let’s stop wasting time. I’m sure you’re a busy woman.”

“I am,” she said simply. “There’s a mess to clean up, thanks to you. You would be doing all of Ninjago a favor, including your missing comrades, if you began answering our questions. The longer this goes on, the more lives are lost on both sides.”

He raised his chin in defiance, saying nothing. She wasn’t fooling him. There was nothing in her gaze that cared of the lives of others. In fact, he had never seen such detachment in a human being before. Even when he had been confronted by both General Morro and General Shade as a high profile capture, he hadn’t witnessed such…inhumanity.

He could see why she had done so well in the empire.

She smiled without any emotion. “I guessed you would be this way. You are a stubborn man, commander. You can chose not to answer any of my questions, if you’d like, of course. There are plenty of rebels to go through—I’m sure one of them values their life. In the meantime, know that the consequences of your actions will be squarely on your shoulders.”

Without looking, the woman tapped a key on the laptop. The holoscreen switched modes so that the projection of the screen appeared on the back side of the frame.

Maike flinched.

It was a room, not unlike the one he was in, with four figures inside. A woman was held between two armored troopers, a third in waiting, the table shoved aside and the chair knocked down. The woman was Indi, harried and already more bruised than Maike was.

The threat was clear. Maike’s stomach dropped.

“We know that there are serpentine in the city, working with the resistance. Their race hates humanity—they represent a threat to us all. They will use you and then betray you,” General Skylor told him. “I am not asking you to give up your comrades. I’m only asking you to give up them. There were no snakes in Nagas. Where are they hiding?”

This again. This was all he had been asked about. The snakes. There were many things that were on a need-to-know basis, and the serpentine’s involvement with the rebellion was not something Maike had needed to know.

He could say that. Perhaps the woman, supernatural as she was, would be able to tell he was telling the truth.

He said nothing.

General Skylor did not move. But, on the screen, the third trooper whipped out an energy baton. It crackled with electricity. Maike gritted his teeth together as the trooper shoved the baton into Indi’s stomach.

There was audio for him to hear her cry out. The other two troopers released her to avoid the shock and she dropped to the floor in her cross of modern and traditional robes.

He quickly moved his eyes to stare hard at the door behind General Skylor’s head.

“How many are there?” The general continued steadily.

Maike glared into the door.

General Skylor huffed.

Indi cried again, this one followed by a sob. He desperately wanted to look, so he instead closed his eyes. It felt like abandoning her. Forgive me, he prayed to the First Master, and to her. Please forgive me.

“You’re protecting barbaric serpents over your own wife,” General Skylor said, voice laced with the first emotion he’d heard from her—disgust. “What have they ever done for you? They were going to betray you, no matter the plans you had in place. It’s in their nature. If roles were reversed, a snake would not protect you. Just tell me why the rebels were working with them, and this can end.”

Just tell her why. No location, no statistic that may threaten what was left of the rebellion. Just a reason. Easy.

Maike shook his head.

Indi screamed. Despite himself, he looked—she was curled up against the corner, body thrashing, half against her will, as two troopers jabbed her with the electrical batons. The third kicked her in the gut. It cut her scream off and knocked her head into the wall.

Maike’s eyes burned with held in tears. I’m so sorry, crawled up his throat, attempting to choke him. But still, he remained steadfast. No matter what he did, they were both going to die. That was what the empire did. He could not let both of their last moments destroy all they’d worked for over decades. Their daughter was out there…and with her was hope. He knew Indi would agree to go through any torture to keep from jeopardizing that.

But that didn’t make watching any less sickening.

He clenched his fists. “Stop it.”

“You know how to make it stop, commander,” General Skylor said icily. “Give me some verifiable information.”

“No. I will never tell you anything.”

“Then I’m afraid you’re out of luck.”

This time, he did not need to refuse a question for the troopers to assault Indi again. At the silence between Maike and General Skylor, they kicked at her again. Indi sobbed, covering her head and curling up, the heavy boots catching her under her elbows and against her shins. One connected to her foot, crunching it between the metal toe of the trooper and the wall.

Her wail was haunting.

“Please,” he begged. “Please, stop this. I won’t tell you anything. They’ll kill her and then you’ll have nothing!”

“If you won’t talk, then I have no reason to keep someone alive who can’t convince you to talk,” General Skylor shrugged, flicking a hand dismissively. “So what would I gain from saving her unless you prove you love her enough to keep her alive?”

First Master forgive him for what they will do to her after he tells them.

“You’re going to kill the only member of the rebel council you have in custody,” he spat. “She knows more than I have ever been trusted with. You have the roles reversed.”

“I don’t particularily care,” the general drawled. “If you aren’t willing to share, why would she? Tell me something, and maybe that will give me hope for her use.”

Indi was beginning to grow quieter under the assault, curled as she was, even when the troopers made more contact with her hurt foot. Maike’s fists shook, his heart hammering in his chest. His eyes flickered back and forth. The words were on the tip of his tongue. If they were both going to die anyway, then the only one to judge him for what he gave up in the end was the First Master himself.

Forgive me, Delbee, he begged of his daughter. I can’t watch your mother’s last moments be pain.

He grit his teeth.

Abruptly, the beating stopped. The troopers tilted their heads, then mutually nodded. “Yes, sir,” they echoed at similar times, clipping their batons back onto their belts and backing away from the cowering woman. Indi didn’t move for a long moment, until the troopers left the room, then her body slowly relaxed, chest heaving. There was blood at her mouth, but she was conscious.

General Skylor glanced toward the observation room, raising an eyebrow, as if listening. Maike caught sight of the earpiece she wore.

She stood, giving Maike an unimpressed look. “You’re lucky there’s someone in a more merciful mood than I am in today. I’ll give you a few minutes to figure out what matters to you, commander. I do hope that your wife is strong enough to handle your next bout of indecision, if you haven’t made up your mind by then.”

She left him in the company of the paper cup and the live feed into his wife’s interrogation room.

He jerked at his handcuffs, trying to reached the laptop, but it was just out of reach—two inches away from his fingers. General Skylor was a cruel one. The idea of her being anywhere near his wife was vomit-inducing. Her powers were the most mysterious of all the generals—the rebellion could never find out just what she her domain was. That made her more than dangerous—it made her terrifying.

The generals were good at that appearance. They were so different from the ninja. Maike had known the special operations team since they were small children and to be in their presence was so uplifting and hopeful, despite the tragedies they’d faced—it made him feel like his cause could do anything in the world. Watching them free camps, one after the other, had been nothing less than awe-inspiring. Seeing them grow up had proved that the future was not lost.

General Skylor had truly taken the idea of power and twisted it from heroism to tyranny. A favorite of Emperor Garmadon, no doubt, just like his Lord Commander.

Maike breathed a bit easier when his wife slowly began to push herself to sit up against the wall. The pain on her face was visceral, and lazy tears were being forced out, but she was alive. She grimaced, being gentle with her foot as she laid out her leg with both her hands.

She looked up at the camera. Maike knew, in his heart, that she was aware of why she was being beaten. Because she smiled, a firm, bloody, determined thing. She knew he was watching…and she approved. She had his back. Guilt and relief warred in him. And he knew, the next time this happened, he would not give in. They could kill him, and they would kill her, but he would see her in the afterlife and they would be reunited.

The grief was heavy in his chest, but so was the comfort. It would soon be over. Delbee would have to fill in their shoes, from here on out.

A thump made him flinch as something heavy fell against the door. A muted grunt from outside the room, and another thump, followed. Then, silence.

Maike stared. The interrogation room was still. What the hell had that been?

Woosh, the door slid up. Two lumps of bodies that wore imperial armor fell into the doorway. Someone was hunched over one of them, quickly grabbing up the trooper’s arms and dragging him backwards into the room. They wore tattered old peasant robes lacking sleeves that didn’t quite fit, hanging off of the frame, and no shoes. Bare feet slapped against the shiny floor.

Maike shot to his feet, leaning over the table. A rescue?! Who in their right minds would be trying to rescue him in the middle of an imperial stronghold?!

“What are you—?” Maike’s words choked off.

The boy jerked with a flinch, glancing back at him. Maike’s words failed him. The newcomer quickly went to grab the other trooper, dragging the second into the room—he seemed to struggle with the weight, but the door whooshed down, hiding his crime.

Maike blinked rapidly. This could not be real.

The young man left the troopers and hurried to the table, brandishing an imperial ID card with a painful grin, like he was out of practice.

His eyes were wide and flickering, something unhinged in them, but misty with relief. “Hey, Sarge. It’s really good to see you.”

His hands—First Master, the young man’s hands were shaking badly, but he was trying to take Maike’s cuffs and unlock them with the ID card. Maike grabbed his own cuffs to steady them, while staring down at the boy. Words got stuck in his throat.

His hair was longer, messier, a little greasy. His face was sharp, his eyebags were bruises, and he was being careful with a wrist. He was taller, certainly, but his frame still narrow under the baggy cheongsam that revealed rows and rows of scars of all kinds. Skin grafts, blades, disfigured skin. And his face, though still retained the handsome lines the boy had once been so proud of, had been permanently marked by discolored lines.

But…it was him.

“Kai?” Maike choked in utter disbelief.

The cuffs beeped, blinking a red light when the ID card was not approved to release him.

“Shit,” the young man whispered, staring down. His shoulders were shaking. “Shit, shit. Yeah, hi. Um. This–-Shit, it’s not working. No, no, no.”

He tried to swipe the card again, but the red light beeped.

“Fuck,” the young man breathed shakily, not meeting Maike’s eyes, gaze firmly pinned downwards. “Okay. Okay, it’s fine.”

He dropped the card, digging into a pocket in his linen pants. He produced two thin metal spokes.

“First Master, kid, how the hell are you alive?!” Maike asked.

He hurriedly flipped his cuffs to give him access to the physical lock.

“Always have been,” Kai looked up to grin weakly, struggling to fit the picks into the cuff. “You-You thought I was dead?”

Maike grabbed Kai’s wrist to make sure he was real—and he was. Real, solid, and ice cold. Goosebumps rose on Maike’s arm just from touching him. Kai winced at the grab, but left Maike’s hand. He was real.

“Of course we did!” Maike gaped. He wanted hug the life out of him. “What were we supposed to think, with the Shogun around? Shit, kid, you look like you’ve been through hell. What did they do to you?”

The kid’s fingers stuttered in their work. Eyes jumping up, then back down. Whatever…thing was unhinged in them told Maike that Kai was no longer all there. Whatever had happened in the last ten years…Maike squeezed Kai’s wrist in an attempt to ground him.

“Pretty much…Pretty much anything you can think of,” Kai muttered shakily. “Garmadon has never given up finding sensei through me. I don’t even know if he’s alive anymore—aha!”

Maike’s right wrist popped free. Maike grinned in victory with Kai, glancing up at the door—no one came barging through to demand what had happened to the trooper guards. The two remained unconscious on the floor.

“You’re doing great, kid,” Maike praised, holding the other cuff steady for Kai’s shaky hands. “Wu’s fine, he’s okay. They all are. They have never stopping thinking of you. None of us have. This is—This is a miracle.”

Kai laughed, a bit crazed, but bleeding at the edges with relief. True tears lined his lower lid. “Hah—and here I thought they’d know better. I miss them…so much. Garmadon told me they—were dead.”

“How did you get here? Have you been here all this time?” Maike’s second cuff clicked and popped open. He quickly ripped it off.

“No,” Kai shoved the picks and the card back into his pocket, looking over his shoulder anxiously. “No, I—He kept me under the castle. There’s a dungeon, there, it…But they brought me here to—um. Sorry. I think they were hoping it would ‘jog my memory’ to see people I used to know. But—I got out and…I haven’t ever—this is the first time—I’m sorry—”

The kid, eyes drifting, scarred arms trembling, looked like he was about to spiral into some kind of panic attack right then and there at the idea of escape. Maike couldn’t blame him—if what he was saying was true, the kid had been held captive and likely tortured for ten years. Maike couldn’t even imagine trying to be a functioning person after all that, much less fighting back against the conditioning he must have endured to defy his captors. And all while stripped of his powers and thinking his family dead.

This kid was a miracle for more than one reason.

Maike suddenly pulled the kid into a hug—the tightest, warmest hug he could managed.

Kai’s gasping stopped and he held his breath. Maike held the back of Kai’s neck, fingers finding his hair—even under there, he could feel the ribs of scars. The soaring shock in Maike’s heart was incredible and it made him tear up. He felt like he was seeing a long lost nephew again.

When he pulled back, he kept his hands on Kai’s shoulders and squeezing, Kai was staring at him with dull shock in his eyes. Like he didn’t think he deserved this—or perhaps like he didn’t believe it was quite real.

“I’m going to get you out of here, got it?” Maike swore seriously, his grip unrelenting—he wasn’t going to let Kai go again. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake. “We’re both getting out of here and you’re going to see your family again.”

“You–You know where they are?” Kai choked, desperation crawling up his face. “Where? Where are they? Please.”

Kai’s expression tugged at something in Maike. Something wary. He was sure it was a deep pity.

“We’ll get there, I promise,” Maike said—he didn’t know who was listening. “But we have to get my wife, first. Indi. Do you know where she is? How did you find me?”

He looked emotionally torn by the refusal and Maike almost gave in, but Kai nodded—twitchy, he was so twitchy. It was like standing next to a newborn fawn, barely able to walk with how green it’s legs were. Maike kept a hand on the kid’s arm just to keep him upright. There was impressive muscle mass there—firm and trained. Kai must have done push-ups every day for the last ten years to keep that kind of muscle in captivity.

“They were talking—about you, I heard, before I escaped the room they put me in—I haven’t, uh, fought back in a while. I don’t think they—expected me to,” Kai ran a hand over his face, getting into his hair and tugging the strands in a nervous tick. “They’ll know, soon. Oh, Master. They might already. Um. Indi. I don’t know.”

“Shit, okay.”

Maike let go of the kid and tore one of the trooper’s helmets off to get at his earpiece. Which…gave him an idea.

He looked up at Kai. “Kid—do you remember when Jay invited my daughter to movie night for Star Battles?”

The kid’s eyebrows furrowed. He shook his head furiously, eyes flashing toward the door.

Maike smiled grimly. “Then you’re gonna have to trust me on this one.”

Maike quickly stripped one of the troopers of their armor, which was easy to do—the armor was user-friendly for the stupid troopers, it seemed. He quickly strapped it on over his own attire. His boots were different and it fit slightly wrong due to his non-regulation clothes, but Kai was giving him a starry-eyed look of realization, so it must have looked passable. Kai, with his cheongsam, would unfortunately not be able to pull off the armor, but Maike had a plan for that.

Maike forced the helmet over his head, grimacing at the tight foam that hugged the sides of his face. The sounds of the room muffled, but the chatter on the earpiece lazily filtered in. It seemed they had yet to notice the absence of their high-profile captive.

He picked up his own handcuffs from the table, still buzzing with the energy cord after having been released manually.

He held them up—Kai flinched. “Is this going to work, or do you still have super-strength?”

“No, I’m—just normal, now,” the kid said haltingly. He begrudgingly held out his wrists, a frown on his lips. “It’s—yeah, it’ll work.”

Maike didn’t have time to wonder how the process of stripping Kai’s powers had worked. It would probably be some mystical bullshit that he wouldn’t understand, anyway. Maike kept the metal bands loose as he closed them over Kai’s wrists. He couldn’t help but notice layers of faded scars where the cuffs closed over. He ignored that, for now. Indi. She was going to lose her mind when she saw Kai.

Maike twisted the laptop around, which was still live streaming. It looked like Indi was in full control of her breathing and panic, now sitting against the wall with a pinched look on her face, intelligent eyes flashing towards the doorway every once in a while—but she was stuck, with her foot. At the top corner of the screen, the security feed read L23, IR14.

He grabbed Kai’s arm and easily pulled the kid over to look. He went along with it like a lost duckling. “Do you know what these mean?”

Kai nodded. “Room fourteen. They had me in two. They’re labeled on the outside.”

Thank the Master, Maike thought. Maike reminded himself to give Kai a pat on the back later for getting through a sentence without stuttering. Strong kid.

He gestured for Kai to stand out of visibility before stepping up to the door. It whooshed up and he poked his head out. There were a pair of troopers and the officer that had given Maike a beating, walking away. The trio of imperials rounded the corner, leaving the hallway empty.

“Let’s go!” Maike muttered, grabbing Kai’s arm again to create the illusion of a captive.

Kai bristled at the contact, but let the mustached man pull him down the hallway.

Maike’s heart hammered in his chest, making the thrum of blood loud in his head. Sweat began to quickly bead along the foam in the helmet. He kept his head steady, eyes flickering to the plaques beside each door. OR 7, IR 7—then OR9, IR 9. They were headed in the right direction.

Then they turned into what seemed to be the main hall—Maike held his breath. It was full of imperial activity, this level evidently stuffed with other important rebel figures to be questioned. Maike would bet that those included were his fellow commanders of Nagas, and any of the rebel managers who had been stuck in the city. Unfortunately, he couldn’t save everyone. Just let him save his wife and this one damn kid.

The hallway was loud with chaotic conversation, the fallout of a large operation. The troopers marching by ignored them. Those in imperial officer uniforms, and a few in kimono, didn’t pay them any mind, either. It was suspicious, almost. Maike’s eyes were sharp—he’d lived so long for a reason. It was like they were purposefully averting their gazes.

Maike glanced at Kai. Were they ashamed to see the kid? Was it some sort of guilt thing? Or perhaps the secrecy around his survival was harshly enforced to the point that they ignored his mere presence. Kai’s shoulders were hunched, hair falling over his face, eyes down—something still disconnected within them, like his sanity was hanging on by a thread.

Maike pulled Kai a little faster. Now wasn’t the time to ponder. Now was the time to act.

They escaped the main hall—and behind them, they heard the thump of imperial salutes echoing, and calls of, “Good morning, general!”

Maike wondered if his face whitened the way that Kai’s did. He looked about to be sick.

“Stay calm,” Maike said, glancing back. “We’re okay.”

General Skylor’s red hair was visible—walking back the way they had come. A shot of fear curled in Maike’s stomach. If she was going to resume her interrogation of him, they had far less time than he was comfortable with.

“Jay,” Kai suddenly mumbled. “Is he okay?”

“What?” It took a moment for Maike to process the words. “Yeah, yeah, he’s fine. On the mend. How did you know?”

Kai shrugged, “Imps talk. Where is he? Nya? Is she…”

“She’s fine,” Maike murmured. Has a bucket-load of anger issues, but fine. “She’ll be over the moon to see you—just be patient. Indi, first.”

Maike zeroed in on the room—fourteen. Two of the rooms in this hallway had guards, which was going to prove an issue. Maike slowed their pace as he considered their options—four armed troopers were a lot for his creaky bones. They all had blasters. He didn’t know how dependable Kai’s skills were anymore, although he had taken care of the two outside Maike’s room…

His hair stood on end as he was called to from behind by the first pair—in front of room 12.

“Hey, what are you doing with that prisoner down here?” The man asked. “We weren’t told anything about another transfer.”

Maike stopped and turned around. He pointed toward the chaotic hallway beyond. “Are you serious? We’re up to our knees in rebels, where else are we supposed to put them all?”

“That’s no rebel, trooper,” the man said suspiciously. “Let me see some ID.”

“Alright, alright,” Maike said, anxiety crawling up his stomach. “I’m getting it.”

He made a show of patting the compartments on his belt. The trooper glanced at his partner and nodded, both of them approaching. He felt Kai tense beside him, something animal in his eyes. Maike pulled out the ID card that Kai had stolen. On it was a woman in a kimono that was very clearly not Maike. Uh-oh.

He held it up, the backside facing the trooper, and the man reached out for it. His mind raced—his hand moved toward the hilt of the blaster at his waist. Things were about to speed up.

Maike blinked and nearly missed it.

Kai’s hand curled around the lip of the trooper’s chest plate, jerking him down—Kai’s elbow smashed into the trooper’s helmet. The visor cracked, the trooper’s body falling back with a grunt. Kai’s handcuffs thrummed, still connected.

The second trooper lunged forward with a startled shout—Maike ripped his blaster from it’s holster and punched the second man in the throat with it. The man choked, the baton he’d pulled out clattering to the tile. He scrambled for it—Maike followed him to the floor.

They wrestled for a brief moment—the trooper got a hold of the baton at the same time as Maike and they tugged, the trooper kicking at Maike’s leg—then Maike jerked the weapon from his grip and turned it on him. It cracked to life with voltage. The trooper’s body seized and shuddered as electricity coursed through his body.

Maike pulled the baton away, breathing hard, and the man’s eyes rolled into the back of his head. He kicked the trooper further from him.

Maike hurried to his feet, shoving the loud blaster into his belt to hold up the baton—

Kai waited for him next to room fourteen, running his hands through his hair and glancing down the hall anxiously. The glowing energy line that still connected the cuffs made his hair illuminate. The bodies of two other troopers lay out before him, completely limp. Maike hesitated.

Later. He’d consider it later.

No time to hide the bodies—they needed to get in and get out.

Maike snagged the ID from the ground and waved it before the sensor. Thankfully, it beeped green and chirped, an automated voice greeting, ‘Welcome, Doctor Huynh.’

Maike ducked the door to enter faster.

Inside was the scene he’d been left with on that surveillance tape. An interrogation room, chairs askew, and a woman huddled in the corner.

Indi looked up, pushing back into the wall, eyes wide with reproach.

Maike rushed over. "Indi, it's me. We've got to go!"

"Maike?" She gasped, latching onto him as he grabbed her by the shoulders. Her bruised eyes teared up. "How? They said you were being interrogated—"

"I got help. We don't have time to talk, now. Can you walk?"

Her eyes jumped behind him. Disbelief—then wariness.

"Indi?" He prompted.

Her eyes twitched back to him. She tried, shifting her foot, then grimaced. "...No. I think it's broken."

Maike cursed. Okay. He could figure this out. He had to. The place was swarmed, the only exit he had glimpsed through a throng of imperials. They'd already left bodies. They only had moments before the infiltration was discovered. He perhaps only had moments left in his life, now.

"Kai, help me," Maike demanded.

He pulled one of Indi's arms over his shoulder. She whined in pain, quickly stifling it. Kai crouched next to her, taking her other arm. Indi almost pulled away from him, hesitating. Kai's large, slightly unhinged, doe eyes met hers.

"Kai?" Her eyes flickered over to Maike. "Master of Fire, Kai? You're supposed to be dead. How...urhk!"

"Long story," Maike told her. They carefully pulled her up. "He's getting out of here with us."

"Sarge is taking me to my family," Kai told her like an excited kid in disbelief that their parent had promised a trip to the beach.

"Not quite, kid," Maike grunted under the weight of his wife as they pulled her up. "But I'm gonna take you to Misako. She'll know where they are."

"Maike!" Indi snapped.

He startled, accidently jostling her. Her foot twisted wrong and her face went white as she cried out, hands dropping to grab the interrogation table. Kai let go of her, Maike's arm wrapping her waist. She panted. They took a short break.

Maike glanced up at the door nervously. "Honey, we have to keep moving."

"Misako?" Kai echoed. "Captain Misako Montgomery?"

Maike rubbed Indi's back. "She's a bit more than a captain, these days—"

"Stop talking." Indi's nails dug into the back of Maike's hand, alarm shooting through her. Maike heard it, then. Outside the door, there was shouting. The bodies had been discovered.

This wasn't going to turn out well. Maike drew his blaster. His heart pounded, but he held his wife close to his side with his free arm.

"Oh." Kai looked unconcerned about the situation, nodding to himself. "Misako is the Sage, isn't she?"

Indi was rigid at Maike's side. But her gaze was not pinned on the door, where the sounds of chaos were coming from. The scanning mechanism beside the door abruptly let out a loud beep, the scanning screen turning a solid red color. Locked. Maike's soul froze. They'd been found out. Now, he may be with his wife, but he was even further from escape than before.

The fight began to tremble in Maike. They had seconds before recapture, unless he figured something else out.

Indi was too busy staring at Kai to help him. Her gaze was full of suspicion. It was comical, considering how unthreatening Kai seemed. The torn clothes, scars, and shaky hands didn't exactly inspire intimidation.

But he trusted Indi. Something was wrong. His gut had been telling him something was wrong with the situation this whole time. It had been…all too convenient. Kai was somehow alive. They’d gone untouched in a hall full of high ranking imperials. They’d quickly found Indi—just a few doors down. Kai had happened to know where she was.

"You should be dead," Indi repeated, clinging to Maike to keep herself upright. "I don't know exactly how it works, but the ninja were sure that no one could survive getting their element stolen. No one. If there was even a chance otherwise, they never would have given up."

Maike's mind raced. That was true. They'd always been so confident. Could they have gotten it so wrong? Could Wu? It seemed unlikely.

But...But it was Kai.

"That's..." Maike was at a loss. "They must have missed something."

"Who are you?" Indi asked, unforgiving. Her grip tightened. "Because the Red Ninja is dead. And if he isn't..."

If he isn't dead, then he didn't get stripped of his powers.

And if Kai still has his powers...

Maike's heart dropped—the hair on the back of his neck slowly raised.

That sour feeling in his gut turned into nausea. Combined, it filled him with the horrible sense that he...was not safe.

Kai's innocent doe eyes flattened. His nervous movements abruptly stopped, and when he stopped hunching, he was taller than he had been a moment ago. His expression dropped into something less than bored—void.

"Where is Misako?" He asked. Each word punched into Maike, spoken with an authority that had not befitted the Kai from a moment ago. "Tell me. I just want to find the ninja."

Maike's eyes flickered to the door. Still locked, the red screen haunting him.

He slowly tracked the mouth of his blaster from the threshold, hesitating, before moving it toward Kai. Indi's fingers dug into Maike's side. Kai didn’t react to being on the wrong side of the weapon.

"Don't make this harder than it needs to be," the ex-ninja warned.

Maike tried to manhandle Indi further back, but they ran into the table, her letting out a whimper. Maike couldn't tear his eyes away to check on her, sighting down his blaster.

"Shogun." Maike's knuckles turned white. "Son of a bitch. I can't believe it."

Something flickered in those dead eyes—something unimpressed. The Shogun drawled in response, "Sarge. Where is she?"

"It's Commander, now. A lot has changed since we last saw each other, I’d wager."

"I'm sure it has. Where is she?"

"I don't know."

"Do not lie to me."

The Shogun stepped toward them. Sweat ran down Maike's temple. It was getting warmer in the room, rapidly so. Maike's grip tightened across Indi's chest, forcing her to shuffle awkwardly around the side of the table as he crowded her backwards. Her labored breathing was loud in his head.

The man in front of Maike was all at once unrecognizable. The fear, the anger swooped through him, but the pity…remained.

“What did they do to you, kid?” Maike murmured. “What did they turn you in to?”

“Tell me—” The man’s hand shot up and grabbed the barrel of the blaster, easily jerking it from Maike’s hand. “—where she is so that I can find the ninja. That’s all I want. I deserve to see them again.”

“I don’t know,” Maike repeated. Indi tugged at the back of his shirt. He subtly began shuffling back with her. “There’s a process to find people like her—codes that have to be entered, people that have to approve of you to get them. When I said I could take you to her, that’s what I meant. I really don’t know. I’m not lying to you, Kai. I wouldn’t. I know they’re your family and no amount of time—”

The Shogun dropped the blaster with a thud-chink, the metal smoking and dismorphed. His voice was cold. “Then give me a start. A name, a code, I don’t care.”

Maike hesitated. He hadn’t been lying, but there was no way in hell that he was going to give the Shogun a thing. Because The Shogun was the Supreme Commander of the Imperial Military, second in the empire only to Garmadon himself, the recluse that the demon was.

“I can’t do that,” Maike admitted. “You know I can’t do that.”

His heart was still thudding against his ribcage, but this was Kai. Maike had made the kid spaghettios over a can fire before tucking a blanket around his sister’s shoulders. Kai was good, and whatever he’d done—so much bad must have happened because that kid wouldn’t have gone down without a fight.

The Shogun scowled at his response, however. “I let you be with your wife. But I have thousands of other rebels to go through. If you won’t give me answers, you’ll have proved yourselves useless and I will move on. The empire doesn’t keep prisoners.”

Maike’s eyes flickered down to the scars crisscrossing bare skin. If the empire doesn’t keep prisoners, what did that make you?

“You almost killed the Blue Ninja,” Indi snapped over Maike’s shoulder. “Jay Walker? He nearly died. Last I saw him, he was delirious with brain trauma. Do you really think we’re going to believe you have any good will towards them after that?”

“That was a mistake,” the Shogun conceded, glaring. “I didn’t know it was him.”

“Who did you think you were hunting all these years, then?!” She sneered. “Hundreds of people, arrested and tortured, missing, shipped away, in your mission to find them and you didn’t know? Does none of it matter to you? Your master would be horrified to see what you’ve become!”

The dethatched eyes shattered. An inconsolable rage dripped through the cracks, Kai snarling, “He is no master of mine.”

“Has Garmadon taken his place, then?” Indi challenged, even as Maike pushed her back. “You’d side with a demon monster over your own family?! Your own people? Has he poisoned your mind? He’ll betray you!”

“And Wu will turn his back on you!” The Shogun shot back. “He won’t give your people any loyalty, he will turn tail and run the moment he learns of the rebellion’s defeat! You owe him nothing, so give me what I want, and I will spare your lives. I’ll spare your daughter’s life.”

Maike’s mouth had opened, expression contorting, in order to tell the Shogun just how much Wu and his ninja had done for the resistance in the years since their miscalculated suicide mission, but the words dried up in his throat.

No, no. Maike would have known if she had been. He was the officer in charge of the city’s immigration and emigration—he would know if she had checked in.

Unless it had been during the chaos. Or she’d snuck in to surprise them, the guards knowing her face and disregarding the check-in process. Had she been there? Did the empire have her?

The nails digging into the divots of the armor told him that his wife was spiraling with the same considerations.

They glanced at each other. Their expressions hardened.

“No need for the special treatment,” Indi said, bitingly. “She’ll be just fine. Especially once she’s freed Ninjago from your tyranny. Alongside Nya Jiang and Jay Walker and all the others you abandoned to prop up your genocidal regime.”

The Shogun just studied them, jaw working. The hiss of the smoking blaster at their feet was the only sound. The air, thick as a summer day, was hard to breathe. The word Indi had used—abandoned—echoed in his head. Maike could still only see that fourteen year old kid who had been too loud and proud, quick to jump to someone’s defense, and even quicker to cheer his friends on.

For a moment, the image of a small, scared Kai, left behind by his comrades, desperate to see them again, was all there was, despite…everything.

“I’m sorry, Kai,” he breathed. “Whatever they did to you…I’m so damn sorry that we didn’t save you. I can’t forgive what you’ve done, but you never deserved the pain.”

For a brief second, Maike thought his words had struck a cord.

The hesitation wasn’t long enough to warrant an emotion.

“Save the pity for yourselves.”

Maike whipped his hands around to stop the bodily lunge, but the elemental was as powerful as the other ninja. A calloused hand, with long, strong fingers wrapped under Maike’s jaw, fingers and thumb digging into both sides of his face. The heat under his chin and up his jaw was instantly unbearable.

Disoriented for a moment, he still heard Indi’s scream and the thrash of her body. Maike’s back was slammed into the interrogation table, the lights spinning above him as spiking pain raced up his spine. His hands flailed, one finding and digging his short nails into the Shogun’s hand gripping his face, the other catching his wife’s robes and twisting until she could feel him there. I’m here, he thought desperately, I’m here, I’m here.

The Shogun loomed over him, fingers digging into his cheeks, like hot irons were clutching his face. They burned and burned until Maike cried out, feeling blisters forming, his skin screaming for release.

“Tell me where Misako is,” the imperial repeated, pressing Maike’s head into the metal table. The rage in his voice was low, simmering. Maike could feel it radiating off of him. “Tell me where the ninja are.”

“Do-don’t—” Maike choked through the grip. “Don’t do—thi-s—”

“Tell me where they are! TELL ME!”

Indi screamed, and screamed, and the smell of cooking meat wafted under Maike’s nose.

Maike squeezed his eyes shut, forcing back the burn of tears. His face was on fire, but it was nothing compared to the agony in his wife’s voice.

“Kai—Please—”

The hand ripped from his face. Maike let out a short scream at the sensation—it felt like skin was stripped from his face, burned onto the offending fingers. Instinctively, his hand went up, shaking, to cover his face and chin. He rolled off the table.

His other hand still clutched his wife’s kimono. He moved to catch Indi as she limb-noodle slid off of the surface of the table, where she had also been pinned. She was conscious, but she breathed hard into him, whimpering—an angry red, blistered smear covered her from cheek to chin to cheek. It seemed to be looking worse every second, skin already flaking off in burnt brown pieces.

Movement in the corner of Maike’s eye—he hugged his wife tighter, pulling her into his side in order to defend her with his body.

But Kai had taken a step back. His expression unreadable, arms fallen to his sides. Maike’s own body was shaking with adrenaline fighting off his exhaustion…but he thought that he saw the kid’s hands trembling.

Whoosh. The door opened. General Skylor stepped in, as put together as before, with a swath of black fabric in hand. She completely ignored Maike and Indi on the floor.

“General Morro is asking for you,” she reported, holding the fabric up toward Kai.

Kai was silent, eyes flickering toward the door, then to Maike. Their gazes lingered, Maike’s resolve firm. Kai broke their eye contact to nod dismissively.

For the moment, all Maike had seen…was someone lost. He wished he hadn’t. Because if he hadn’t, maybe he could have hated Kai for all he’d done.

General Skylor unfurled the fabric as she walked, revealing a long, expensively embroidered kimono. Kai let her slide it over his shoulders, tying it at the waist himself. Without the worn and torn peasant’s garb, he looked far more his title.

General Skylor’s steely eyes fell over them. “Would you like me to finish your interrogation? Or be rid of these ones?”

“Provide them with medical attention,” Kai muttered. “Then return them here for the time being.”

The general hesitated, disbelief flickering across her expression. “Both of them?”

“Yes.”

General Skylor gave Maike one last scathing look before following her master out of the room like a lost pet. The door whooshed shut before the scanning screen once against turned red. Locked.

Then tension drained out of them and the couple slumped against each other.

-

Skylor finished ordering the troopers to send for their resident medical assistants before she turned around.

“General Morro is in the conference room—Shogun—?”

Skylor was ignored, Sho brushing passed her to march through the hall. She scowled, lengthening her strides to follow after the billowing black kimono. The troopers lining the outer hall straightening themselves in the face of the commander’s apparent frustration.

The officials of the floor were left in the dust without a report. They’d overheard most of it in the adjourning observation room, anyway. She had missed the beginning, but she’d overheard enough. The officer’s faces, white with shock, had said it all.

Sho had once been a part of the rebellion. More than that—he had been on the ninja team. He had trained under their master. She gathered that he had been captured by the empire on a mission gone wrong, and she would bet all of her skill that it had been the assassination attempt from years prior that had been kept a secret from the public. It had been before her time under the empire, but it lined up with Sho’s years of service.

It was—strange, to think about. It didn’t change her opinion of him in any way, but the idea of him working with the rebellion was almost enough to draw amusement out of her. Almost.

Kai. The rebel had called him that. Skylor hadn’t known that was his real name.

Sho was not headed toward the conference room. She didn’t know where he was going, in fact. They walked until there were no more troopers, no more officers, and no more interrogation rooms. At the end of this grey hall, a bright red EXIT sign sat at the top of the emergency stairs. He took a sharp left at the end of the hall.

“Sho?” She called again, her voice echoing.

Without an audience, she let concern bleed into her features and she jogged to catch up.

Another glowing sign beside a door—of a toilet. The door to the bathroom slammed into the wall with the force that it was thrown open with. Skylor knew the roleplay must have brought back some bad memories, but he had been the one to insist on the plan…

She caught the swinging door, pushing through it in time to hear the sounds of retching. Gagging, a wet choke, and the splash of bowl water. A bottomed out feeling opened in her stomach.

His hands shook on the sides of the porcelain. It was a utility bathroom—he hadn’t turned the light on when he’d entered, so his form hunched over the toilet in the dark. Dark shelves loomed over either side of them, full of cleaning products. The kimono shadowed him, as if he were trying to hide from her. The kimono lowered to the ground, Sho breathing hard.

“I’m fine,” he said, voice groggy and doubled in the toilet bowl.

She huffed, crouching at his side. By his profile, she could see his eyes were closed. Skylor quickly pulled the hair hanging down out of his face to avoid the vomit. It had been mussed with grease for his play part.

“I’m fine,” he repeated in a murmur.

Skylor just shook her head, leaning over him to unroll a handful of toilet paper. She wiped the lip of the bowl where he was holding, lifting his hands temporarily to do so. She flipped one of his palms over to check, just in case something had gone wrong with the interrogation and he’d been injured—but his hand was clean.

She threw the paper into the toilet without looking down, pulled some more, and went to wipe his mouth with it.

“Cut it out,” he complained half-heartedly, taking the toilet paper from her. “I’ve got it.”

He wiped his own face and dropped it in. She pulled him back and flushed the toilet of vomit before sitting back with him.

“What happened?” She only half expected a real answer.

“Nothing,” he said, breathless. “Everything. I don’t know.”

He covered his face with steepled hands, breathing deeply through his fingers. It was like he was in shock. Skylor didn’t understand, but she let him have his quiet for a moment.

The moment passed. He didn’t move. They sat in the dark bathroom.

“Kai,” she whispered.

He flinched, hands pulling away enough for him to glance at her. His eyes scanned over her face before flickering down and away. Unsure. She hadn’t seen him like this in so long, she’d forgotten what it was like.

“Sorry,” she quickly amended. “I just…I thought Lloyd made up a nickname for you when we were kids. I didn’t know it was your real name. But I won’t call you that.”

Sho stared at his hands with hollow eyes.

Skylor didn’t know what was going through his head—if the rebels had gotten to him or if the weight had finally become too much. But she touched his bicep, then slid her hand under his arm, shifting to press up against his side. Slowly, she dropped her head onto his shoulder, in the same position they had been in after she’d had that nightmare and he had comforted her without words.

Ever since she’d been relieved of her duty, General Ash filling in for her at Shadowspire while Hutchins remained in the hospital, Sho had been acting strange. Distracted. Almost dangerously so—as if his heart were somewhere else.

Which was impressive, because even Skylor had thought it wasn’t much more flexible than Lloyd, Lloyd, Lloyd. And it was also precarious. Because he was the Shogun, the terrifying force of nature, not a trembling boy. He couldn’t be.

“What…happened?” Down there, in Nagas? During the raid? What are Chamille and Morro keeping from me?

He didn’t answer the question. Water dripped in the toilet bowl, apparently housing a leaky faucet. Drip…drip…drip…

“What would you do if you found out that everything you knew was a lie?” he asked. “If the whole world was just…not what you thought it was?”

Her eyes flickered up, but she couldn’t see him. The length of his jaw in the dim light worked silently, his gaze glued to the wall.

She instead turned her face into his shoulder and took a deep breath. “I don’t know. I…don’t care enough about anything to have expectations for them, so I’m never let down.”

“Then why do you keep fighting?” he asked dully. “Why do you try so hard to stay alive?”

“I don’t…” For you. No, that wasn’t right. “I don’t know. Spite. I’ve outlived my father, haven’t I?”

“Isn’t that exhausting? Being angry all the time…I get so tired. And now…”

He didn’t finish his thought. He didn’t need to. Skylor was pretty sure she understood.

“Me, too,” she agreed with a sigh, closing her eyes.

“I’m not a good person.”

She didn’t know what to say to that.

He reached up and rubbed his face.

She said, “Tell you what—after Lloyd is crowned, you, me, Ash, maybe Morro—we all kill Garmadon together, then the two of us retire to a farmhouse in the outskirts. You don’t have to be a good person to keep a cow, right?”

He heaved a full-body sigh against her, slouching back, but he let her change the subject. “You would hate the outskirts. No microwaves. No TV boxes. The powerlines don’t even go that far outside the city. You have to pump your own water out there—and no air conditioning.”

She frowned at the thought, imagining it behind the darkness of her eyelids. No weekly wedding drama show? Nevermind. “Fine. The city suburbs, then.”

“I would rather replace Lloyd with a puppet heir in this hypothetical and then take him with us.”

“I should have known,” she grinned fondly against his shoulder. “Alright, fine. But you know you’ll only get to see him when he’s home from university. Kid is too smart for his own good.”

“…I guess I could handle that,” Sho begrudged with an over-dramatic sigh. “…We need to get back to work.”

“Five more minutes.”

Even knowing that they would have to return, Skylor let some of the stress pool out of her, feeling the tension draw out of him.

The leaned against one another on the floor. Just for a moment longer.

It didn’t cross Skylor’s mind that they sat not unlike the commander and the councilwoman had.

-

The skyline of Ninjago stretched out before her. It was beautiful, even where the people were cruel. She had never been quite so deep into the Geum Region before. The wealthy that populated it were too pompous, too entitled, to be any kind of good company. Where her penthouse was in the Capital Region, half of everyone were government appointees and bureaucrats, which were far less aggravating, stressed as they were. But Geum people? Wealth flaunters. They were exhausting to be around, and that was coming from a woman who enjoyed her riches.

If it were up to her, she would stay in the five-star hotel room at the top of the skyscraper and enjoy the luxurious white and gold decor in peace. The chandelier even reminded her of home. She distantly hoped that her surprise cat, Khania, was being fed by her high-tech kitty bowl alright. She’d grown pretty attached to furball in the past month. Even if she seemed to like Skylor’s bed-crasher more than Skylor.

Skylor forced herself to focus on the skyline, if only to keep actively listening to Lieutenant General Eyezor.

“…I thought it pertinent to let you know right away. I’ve already informed the PPU to keep a lookout around the perimeter of the parade’s route, but I’m not sure how successful they can be considering the risk comes from normal imperial transports.”

“Alright, let me see if I am understanding this correctly,” Skylor said, running her hand up her forehead and digging her fingers under the wet towel. It tugged at the roots of her hair, wrapped around her head as it was. “You found an imperial truck full of the experimental material we’ve been confiscating from across the city and it was mislabeled in the reports. And that’s it. Why are you telling me rather than making a report on it? I do read them, you know.”

“Of course, general, and I will absolutely be writing a supplementary after speaking with you. I was concerned enough to call because the mislabel matches that of the truck the Blue Ninja was attempting to steal before yourself and the Shogun stepped in. We aren’t yet sure exactly what it’s meant for, but considering it’s combustive ability, we should be wary of it’s military uses.”

In the window of the balcony, Skylor could see her own face reflected in the glass before the sparkling city. She stared at herself, hand freezing in her wet hair.

“The same…are you saying the rebels may have a hand in this? The Shogun discounted the possibility himself three weeks ago. They would have used bombs to wrought far more destruction by now if they were the ones manufacturing them.”

“I’m not sure, ma’am, but our men are already investigating the possible connection. I should have more information for you by tomorrow morning. Will you be returning to your duties by then? With the prince’s coronation the following morning, every unit is on call, but I will be able to manage them at your request.”

Her thumb massaged her forehead. She briefly closed her eyes, silently groaning. Skylor glanced back into the hotel room—the bedroom door was ajar, the sounds of the running shower still audible.

“No, no, I’ll be back by the morning to give hand in the situation,” she sighed. “With the serpentine and the remaining arms of the resistance at large, we have to stay efficient. General Morro has a name for the Sage—they’ll get prickly when he gets too close. But—keep this about the transports out of the reports, on second thought. We don’t want rumors spreading among the men that there are still rebel plans in motion.”

“…Understood, ma’am. Shall I inform the Shogun personally, then?”

Skylor pursed her lips. Her eyes wandered across the internal reflection on the glass, landing on the open doorway behind her again.

“No,” she told him. “I’ll let him know. Thank you for keeping me updated, lieutenant general. Make sure that you get rest, soon. Tomorrow will be a long day of preparation.”

“You don’t need to warn me,” the man said grimly. “I had a feeling. Have a good night, ma’am.”

“Goodnight, Eyezor.”

She hung up. Her phonebox went dark, leaving an empty frame in her hand.

Sho had enough on his mind tonight. She’d update him in the morning. And if he asked why, well, she had the excuse of seeing through the mission he’d given them.

She pulled the towel down, unwinding it from her hair as she walked back into the bedroom. Across the bed, clothes appropriate for a black-tie event were laid out. Skylor dropped her sweatpants and clipped on her bra, grabbing the skirt of the dress—however, as she did, it crossed her mind that the shower had been running an awfully long time, and Sho wasn’t the type to linger.

She picked up the towel to hang up and returned to the bathroom in her undergarments.

Sho was not in the shower and, in fact, showed no signs of having been in the shower. He sat on the toilet, shirt off, but gym shorts still on, his towel folded and being held on his lap. He did not look up when she hesitated in the doorway, which was all he needed to give away his shame.

His shoulders hunched, chin pointed down, eyes glued to the fancy embroidered towel the hotel staff had provided them with.

“Hey, what’s going on?” She grabbed his shoulder—he twitched under her grip, but she did not let go. “You look like a little kid, huddled up on the toilet like that. You want to make it to this show, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” he said, huffing, like he was frustrated. “I just…Everything is…”

Bad, he didn’t have to say.

“Oh.” She thought, then reached over and hung up her damp towel. “You should have told me before I got my towel all wet.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Come on, we’re gonna be late.”

She rolled her eyes, but he stood, leaving his towel behind and dropping his shorts and briefs. She unclipped the bra she just put on and tossed it onto the bed in the other room. Sho stood like a lost puppy on the bath rug for a moment until Skylor literally made the shooing motion at him.

The bath rug was, to be fair, very soft under her bare toes. So were the towels, so were the bathrobes she’d been digging into earlier—oh, she loved expensive things. That did not make her a flaunter.

She opened the glass door and stepped into the shower. The floor of it was made of smooth stones.

Sho was stubbornly standing off to the side, the spray barely clipping his shoulder. His expression was…well, Skylor could only describe it as constipated. His arms were crossed, as if that could hide how uncomfortable he was and not make it exponentially more obvious.

“I’m sorry to tell you this, but you are going to have to make contact with the water if you want to be clean,” Skylor teased gently, stepping under the water herself.

Skylor dug his hands out of his crossed arms, pulling them under the showerhead first. He squeezed her hands like he wanted to break them, but she knew otherwise. His constipated expression smoothed out into a forced, painful looking kind of calm as water cascaded over his hands.

“You’re fine, see?” She said, voice still low and soft. She pulled him further toward her. He begrudgingly stepped under the spray. He grimaced. She brought his hands down to place them on her hips, skin slick. “Nothing can happen to you while I’m here. Like we used to, remember? Did anything bad ever happen then?”

“I know, I know,” he grumbled. She trailed her hands up his arms and landed them above his elbows, drawing circles in his bare skin. The tension slowly began to recede from his shoulders.

She gave him her most dazzling smile as the water beat the oils from his hair. He exhaled. His eyes, though, remained distant—but no longer distant in a way that screamed I’m-reliving-my-past-torture, simply distant in the way they had been all day. Since whatever it was that had happened in Nagas. It was also undoubtably the trigger for whatever was going on with him. Skylor hadn’t needed to share a shower with him in two years.

“Thank you,” he muttered. His eyes slid shut.

“Mhm. I guess I’m getting extra clean.” She lightly pinched his shoulder. “Sho.”

“Hm?”

“Can I wash your hair?”

“If you want.”

His hair was soft as she worked suds through it. Skylor was sure that Sho was the only man that wasn’t horrible to share a shower with. He never minded it when she kicked him out of the stream for long periods of time because he didn’t get cold goosebumps from it. Or maybe his trauma did that. She didn’t really know and would likely regret ever asking.

He murmured something while she was behind him, occupied with washing out his hair gel. She made a confused noise to convey the fact that she could not fucking hear him.

He sighed. “My name is Kai. Kai Jiang-Smith. My parents were elemental masters, and so is my sister. Water. We were raised in the rebellion after our parents were killed by Garmadon.”

She hesitated, then quickly returned to washing his hair, treating it as if it were normal conversation and not the most Skylor had learned about Sho in eight years. “Oh. I see.”

“You can call me Kai. I would…I would like you to. Call me that. My name.”

“Your name, huh?”

“Yes—stop teasing me.”

Skylor chuckled. “Okay, okay. Kai.”

His shoulders dropped and she rinsed his hair out.

While she did, he reached out and swiped away some of the condensation on the glass in order to look at the alarm clock visible from the bedroom.

They had less than an hour before the show started.

“Damnit!” He cursed.

She swiped away some condensation at her height. At this rate, they weren’t going to make it. She agreed, “Shit!” and slapped off the water, kicking the shower door open. Thankfully, it did not shatter.

She stepped out, stealing his towel before he could complain. From there, she commenced the world record in self-drying, which Sho—Kai did not get to compete in since the ass simply dried himself with his element, the water evaporating right off of his skin. Skylor was not about to try that without another decade of practice, so she pouted at him instead, wringing her hair out desperately.

The hairdryer helped.

She slipped on a dress—an boring black, long-sleeved and high-necked, but slender along her body. Not terribly eye-catching, but still expensive, which was the point. Silver jewelry—she didn’t own gold, even though it would have gone better with her complexation. She braided her hair down, arms getting sore from their awkward position, and she wrapped them in the same low military bun she wore every day.

A half hour, and a rushed face of impeccable makeup later, Kai was still struggling with his tie from where he sat on the bed. Skylor pinned her second earring in, leaning around the bathroom threshold to scowl impatiently at him.

She quickly softened the expression before he could see.

His hands were trembling around the length of the tie. The far-off look in his eyes wasn’t helping him focus. It looked worse than before, now, despite the moment of reprieve.

“Kai,” she called.

He looked up quickly, the shock of hearing the name grounding him for a moment.

“Help me?” She asked.

He left the tie limp around his neck, the rest of his suit ready, and quickly joined her. He accepted the shining necklace she handed him. His hands were still shaky, and they both knew that she would have been quicker without him, but neither said anything.

Eventually, the necklace sat over her dress, at the collarbone. He tried his tie again, looking in the mirror this time. It was at this point that Skylor wondered if it was the damn tie that was triggering bad memories.

She slapped his hands away, undoing the poor knot and fixing it for him. She folded the white collar over before smoothing it down. While she did, she muttered, “What is going on with you?”

He didn’t answer. The distant look seemed…sad. But that part had always been something that Skylor had associated with him, so she didn’t press for more.

-

Darkness had fallen over the streets of the Jueshi District hours ago. On the other side of Ninjago City, among the abandoned warehouses and overworked employees, the streets were empty and patrolled frequently by strict imperials that would fine anyone caught out of their homes, or worse, beat or arrest them at their own behest. However, the Jueshi District was bursting with laughter and light, no imperial trooper in sight. Couples walked arm in arm, the moonlight reflected along the rims of bobbing fedoras.

Glowing neon signs and aesthetic paper lanterns painted with beautiful designs were hung between the posts of outdoor seating. Fine dining lined the walk, tables and chairs spilling into the cool night air, surrounded by wealthy night-goers with diamond bracelets clinking together and thousand-dollar-haircuts being groomed back by red-faced patrons. Wine glasses with long stems and champagne glasses with bubbling yellow drinks were the only frequents on every table. There were no lines out the door because the subtle sign in the front of the restaurants’ windows boasted reservations only! despite their packed businesses.

Further down the street was where men and woman alike waited in the cool spring air, covered in fur coats and pristinely tailored suits, a few sporting decorated haori and geta sandals. Blue palace lanterns were strung up before the establishment, their tails swaying in the light breeze. The entire street vibrated almost unnoticeably, but the closer one got to the club, the more obvious it became, until one could hear the smooth musical notes floating out through the open door.

The Mauve Note was the oldest jazz club in Ninjago, and as famous as the many years it had been in business. Known for it’s prestige, an average Ninjagoan shouldn’t expect to be let in just as a paying customer—no, the club had quite the reputation to uphold, and that responsibility even stretched to the appearance and status of it’s patrons. Even the two men at the door checking for tickets were dressed as if they were billionaires themselves, expensive wristwatches flashing out from their haori sleeves and suit jackets, ties pinned with what were likely genuine gem stones.

The sound of the stringed bass beat out an upbeat tune beneath the more flexible addition of a clarinet’s rhythm. It was the definition of toe-tapping—but luckily, the real performance had not yet begun.

Patrons in line outside the club turned their heads to throw dirty looks at one another following two pairs of footsteps that walked outside of them. The audacity to skip the line—to pass them all up, as if they were better than the rest of Ninjago’s elites. Business entrepreneurs, models, CEOs, television celebrities. The two would no doubt get turned away at the entrance, just like any upstart millionaire who thought he was good enough to skip the line only to be humbled by the bouncers.

But the woman’s heels tapped a rhyme of confidence, and the man’s raised chin didn’t falter at the front. The two burly, haori-decorated men took one look and bowed their heads, unhooking the velvet purple rope and waving the two of them passed.

Skylor, on a normal occasion, may have thrown a smirk back at the gaping old women and fuming rich men, but she remained detached. Another time, when they were here for mere pleasure, she’d make up for it, but on this night, it was all business.

They walked in under a black metal stairway and a classic wall of brick, the club having the classiest use of old aesthetic that Skylor had ever seen. Her heels tapped softly on the wooden floor, the building opening up immediately into the main ballroom of the club. The lights were dim and dark, the ceiling apparently endless, with lanterns hanging down from far above to illuminate tables of chatting patrons.

To their left, a long, wooden bar, polished to a shiny pristine, and manned by four bartenders in three-piece suits and bowties, hair swept back into a an old seventy-year-old look. The room was waited on by similar-looking staff. And passed the tables, there was the stage. It was beautiful, framed by golden laurel leaves and the images of roaring liger’s heads, velvet curtains draping down in even lengths across the top and along each side.

The jazz band was playing from the stage, a bass, a clarinet, a trumpet, a piano that owned the right side of the stage, and a saxophone, who looked ready to hypnotize the crowd.

They stepped into the room, garnering a few looks that lingered—mostly on Kai’s scarred face, and some curiosity following their glance toward Skylor. Luckily for her, the long sleeves and high neck covering her own marred body were enough to disguise her as an average, air-headed aristocrat.

Kai tensed at her side and she squeezed the arm she was holding like a newly wed. She knew she couldn’t be much help—the dark corners of the room and the size of the crowd also made her prickly.

“Welcome, sir and ma’am,” a host bowed low to them at their entrance. “Would you like me to sit you at a table now, or would you rather be served at the bar?”

“We’d rather the bar, if you would,” Skylor requested for them.

The host bowed once more and lead them into the room, an arm raised where a decorative napkin hung over it.

Skylor could imagine Sho—Kai saying something dumb like, ‘I get all tingly when you take control like that’ but tonight, his expression was stone cold. Skylor wondered when she had stopped expecting the joke because she found she was no longer surprised.

They sat at the bar. The bartender quickly worked his way down to them. Kai pointed at someone else’s mix and held up two fingers. The bartender nodded and turned to the wall of checkered bottles, illuminated by glowing LEDs between each rung. The surface of the bar was a mirror and, somehow, it was majorly spotless.

The young man that Skylor sat next to raised his brows, then smiled, turning from his friend on the other side to face more towards her—but his expression dropped into disappointment when Kai sat next to Skylor. She paid the man no mind, leaning on the bar by the elbows and propping her chin up with her hands, eyes only on her partner. She didn’t want to give the man, nor any other one in the club, any doubts that she was not here to mingle.

Kai didn’t even notice, eyes in another world, which was a warning sign to Skylor. She didn’t mention it.

Instead, she hummed next to him, leaning in as she spoke close to his ear. “Do I get to know why you’re such a big fan of these Blacksmiths at any point?”

“Probably not unless you infer.”

“You really make a girl fight for it, huh?” She tried, nudging his leg with her heel. Come back.

“Mhm.” He only blinked when the bartender slid the two glasses in front of them, the ice clinking against the glass.

Skylor picked hers up, swirling it around a few times the way that General Chamille always did with her drinks. Unfortunately, she wouldn’t really know what it tasted like unless Kai suddenly declared them off-mission, which he wouldn’t, so she let the liquid touch her lips and nothing more. Her partner’s gaze was already on the room behind him, scanning over every face, one hand thumbing the crystal glassware. At least he was focused on something.

A couple of minutes later, the jazz group on the stage finished their song. It came to a melodic conclusion that had Skylor genuinely wanting to join the clapping hands throughout the room. But people did not even give them a standing ovation, despite their skill. The talents the people had seen on The Mauve Note’s stage was the best of the Realm, and some simply could not compete.

The lights on the stage darkened momentarily.

They brightened a moment later when the host of the performances walked on stage. Raucous applause met his show-winning smile. The famous Bo Qiang Zhao raised his arms, a shocked face quickly turning into a grin of greeting.

Bo Qiang had been hosting at The Mauve Note since the previous host had been executed for treason. Kai had relieved that man of his head three years ago.

“Hello, hello!” The man greeted—Skylor frowned when his smile nearly blinded her. “Welcome to The Mauve Note, bringing you all that’s great in the world of jazz! That was Midnight Syncopation, our newest and brightest band to join our show! Can we get one more round of applause for them?”

The audience, of course, politely complied, a whistler from the rafter seats adding some extra enthusiasm. Bo Qing laughed, his perfect hair unmoving on his head.

“Just incredible, we cannot wait to see where they will go next!” The man bowed shallowly. “Now, to follow that performance, we have our special treat of the night! They’re long-time runners around these parts, and one of the first big hits to make it to every club down Note Alley! We can all agree that the world of barbershop music wouldn’t be the same without them! With members including the fabulous Kevin Hageman, Mi’er Dyers, Bob Xipen, and Lou Brookstone, please help me welcome the Royal Blacksmiths!”

Bo Qing threw his hands out to the side and walked to the other end of the stage. The lights dimmed, and a focused spotlight spun around the room briefly before landing on the side of the curtain. A head abruptly appeared in the spotlight, poking out from behind the curtain—a pale-faced, mustached man with elegantly slicked back hair.

He sung a low baritone note. “Ohhh—!”

Another light appeared above him, where a man sung an octave higher than the previous. “Ohhhhh—!”

On the other side of the stage, two more lights and singing heads followed.

“Ohh—!”

“Ohhh!”

The crowd was loving it, already standing to cheer, shout, and clap as the four men walked fully out onto the stage, already singing their greeting.

Their performance began immediately, a beautiful song weaved together between four voices singing at different pitches. They had the most impressive voices Skylor had ever heard. It was impressive, listening to them while watching them dance in perfect sync, as if the four men were a single mind. That was what decades of time together gained you.

The sound of a drink being set on the bar, ice clacking together, had Skylor turning—Kai was setting down the now empty glass, getting to his feet. He’d downed the entire thing. Skylor startled, but quickly stood with him.

The Royal Blacksmith’s singing act turned out to be song and comedy, as Skylor found out when one of the men abruptly seemed confused and the others gave him a music sheet as if he were using it for the first time. As Skylor’s eyes tracked across the room, they caught on someone staring directly at her.

An older man, with a haori—it was too dark to tell in the room, but she was sure he was just leering at her. She rolled her eyes, turning her gaze to the fold between Kai’s shoulders.

Kai made his way to the side of the room, into the backstage hallways as if he owned the place. He flashed something at the staff member standing there, and the man simply bowed and opened the door for him.

The backstage hallways were just as exquisite and old fashioned as the rest of the place, with red velvet carpet from pre-empire times and sliding paper doorways along the sides, rather than modern hinges. A few employees were going in and out of doors, along with some performers, none of whom stopped Kai with his confident strides, but all of them gave the duo strange looks.

The sounds of the comedy-musical act was muffled from behind the walls, but it was easy to keep track of the barbershop quartet.

Where are we going? Skylor wanted to ask, shooting Kai’s back a look.

She found out when he opened a door, holding it for her to step through. The sound of the stage lost it’s muffle and became much louder. They stepped directly into the backstage area, the floorboards under her vibrating with the dancing of the quartet in the light of the stage portion. It was dark, the only source of light spilling from the stage itself.

Bo Qing, the man himself, stood just off-stage with a stage employee dabbing at his face of makeup, the man’s expression lined with stress and a frown on his face as he typed at his phone. The frown looked alien on him, after his constant stage grins.

A few stage techs gave the two of them double takes.

One such tech, with a headset on, radio clipped to his belt, and a stack of papers in hand, walked up to them with a frown. “Next act is supposed to be on the other side of the stage. Which one are you two?”

He flipped through the pages, as if he’d find a name that made sense for the two severe faces he was met with.

“We’re not an act.” Kai pulled out a crest—Skylor’s eye twitched in surprise. The imperial crest, not something pulled out casually, and certainly not by anyone. The stage tech’s eyes bulged. “And we’re comfortable waiting right here until the Blacksmiths are done.”

The stage tech nodded, then slowly backpedaled, eyes still looking like they were going to fall out of his head. He scurried over to what seemed to be the stage man in charge, muttering something near his ear. The man choked on the water bottle he was drinking from, head whipping around to look their way.

“I was wondering how you got anything done out of uniform,” Skylor mumbled.

Kai shrugged, muttering, “I didn’t want to make a scene. They’ll have to keep working here after this.”

She raised a brow up at him. What she wanted to ask was, Why in the hell and since when would you care about some guys’ show routine? Instead, she said evenly, “I’m surprised you care.”

He must have still caught the doubt in her voice because he glanced at her with an unreadable expression. It reeked of an ulterior motive—which relaxed Skylor more than having to accept the other explanation from him. Shogun putting himself at a disadvantage for someone else’s mere comfort was too alien to compute.

The Royal Blacksmiths remained on stage for about fifteen minutes, Skylor and Kai spending ten of those minutes watching the act from off-stage.

Finally, Bo Qing stepped out again to wonderous applause to announce the end of the act. He shook hands with each member of the quartet, all of them with winning, full-teeth smiles. The quartet even waved to the crowd in sync as they, one by one, stepped off the stage.

The men’s smiles dropped to show exhausted faces, but they clasped each other’s hands in victory and back-pats were shared all around. They were given some water by the staff as they stepped off, and the next act went on.

The quartet members, narrow-visioned as they were in the moments after getting off stage, didn’t even notice them as they passed. Until Kai’s hand shot out, grabbing one of the men by the arm.

He flashed the imperial crest with a deadpan expression. “Lou Brookstone. I need to speak with you. It shouldn’t take more than fifteen minutes, if you cooperate.”

The man startled and all four of them pulled to a stop, confused frowns on their faces. They shared looks.

The man Kai had picked out of the lineup waved the others on. They seemed unsure, but nodded, pointing out into the hall, where their dressing room lay waiting. Kai released the man’s arm. Lou Brookstone held back while the others left.

“Let’s find somewhere more private,” Kai suggested, gesturing after the other Blacksmiths.

Lou bowed his head reluctantly. “Fine. There’s a break room in the back that should be empty.”

They followed the man’s lead, Skylor taking the short walk to study the man ahead of her. He was tall, taller than even Kai, but spindly in every sense of the word. His face was a bit gaunt, even, but his pronounced cheekbones and handsome bone structure may have given the illusion. He had a goatee and a thin mustache, all perfectly groomed, as well as a long, thin nose, and down-slanted brown eyes. She would guess he was in his late forties, maybe fifties, but the lines on his face made him look even older.

The man’s suit, a smart three-piece, was striped with black and white, his orange bowtie giving the look a pop of color. That, as well as his gel-swooped hair, matched his fellow quartet members, but on closer observation, Skylor was confident she could have picked this man out from a crowd. There was something different about him. In the way he walked, in the way he held himself—like he was holding something heavy across his shoulders at every moment. His expression had been the quickest to drop after leaving the stage—exhaustion and apathic disgust flattening his show-stopping smile.

He slid open a door and did not bother holding it ajar for them. Kai caught the door as it tried to slide back across the threshold. He and Skylor shared a grim look before following the man through.

The employee break room was unremarkable, with a table, four chairs, and a small kitchenette on the side. A fan above them creaked as it slowly worked, the design elegant, but clearly far too old to bother with trying to fix it. The room was dimmer than the hallway.

The man went straight toward the fridge, opened it up for bright light to spill from it, and pulled out a long-necked brown bottle. He used his ring to pop off the cap and took a swig before facing them again.

“Mr. Brookstone, I’m an investigator with the imperial military, and this is my partner. We just have a couple of questions to ask you, then we’ll be on our way,” Kai told him, tucking the imperial seal into his jacket.

“And what could a man like me do for the empire?” Lou asked, the bitterness in his tone impossible to ignore.

“We need to know if you’ve had any contact with your son.”

The man stiffened. His eyes on Kai turned scathing, something bitter and broken there. Instead of immediately answering, Lou raised the beer to his lips again and took a long swig.

“You come all this way, interrupt my night, and that’s what you ask me?” The man scoffed.

“It’s important for the security of the empire,” Kai said. “As I’m sure you know, your son gained the abilities of your wife after her passing. He used them to become a ninja, just like her. Your family has a history of dealing with traitors.”

“Her family does,” Lou corrected, pointing at Kai with the butt of the bottle. “Not mine. I never wanted anything to do with that. I told her it would only bring us pain. I begged with her to turn away from that life. But she didn’t, and I admit, I didn’t report her. I loved my wife. So if you’re here to arrest me for that, then get on with it. You’re wasting my time.”

“I’m not here to arrest you. Just answer the question.”

“Whether or not I’ve spoken to my son?” The man barked a hate-filled laugh. “You imperials are repugnant. Just the same as those self-righteous rebels. Just the same. All of you, so afraid to lose what power you have, while also desperate for more. None of you have a single care about the lives you ruin along the way.”

He took another drink. Kai didn’t say anything, so neither did Skylor, but she was quickly growing impatient. This man should not be getting away with speaking to them like this, but it was difficult to see the pathetic man as anything like a threat.

The bottle came back down. Lou seemed disappointed that they were still there.

“No, I haven’t spoken to my dead son. Is that what you want?” The man scowled. “Nor my dead wife, if that was going to be your next question.”

Kai didn’t respond. Lou looked at them with a hard expression, waiting, but nothing came. Skylor glanced at Kai. The commander was making no move to fill the silence.

Lou’s grief did so. “Cole ran away from his boarding school to join the rebellion. He was ten years old. The last time I spoke to him was when he was ten years old. And do you know what I said? ‘Don’t you ever come back.’ That’s what I told him. And he didn’t. The resistance used him and got him killed, the same as his mother.”

Kai’s eyes were going distant again. “I’m sorry for your losses.”

Lou set the bottle down on the table, glaring at the both of them.

“No,” the man shook his head, voice full of grief, but quickly turning to the angry face of the it. “No, don’t give me your empty words. You come here, demand my cooperation three weeks before the anniversary of my son’s death, and you give me your condolences?”

Kai didn’t back down. “Have you had any contact at all with a member of the rebellion?”

“And do you know what tomorrow is?” the musician ignored the question, eyes burning with hatred. “My wife’s birthday. She would have been forty-six. My son—My son would be twenty-five.”

Skylor waited, eyes flickering over with the concern in her gut—Kai looked about to demand an answer again, but he didn’t. Like his collar had suddenly choked the wind out of him.

Skylor recovered for them, snapping at the musician, “Answer the question, Mr. Brookstone. Have you had any contact with the rebellion?”

“No. I would rather watch them all burn than do a single thing for them,” Lou assured them, his words dripping with loathing. “And that is the most I will ever do for any of you. We’re done talking. Either arrest me or get the hell out of my club.”

Kai recovered from his moment, then bowed, and Skylor quietly followed suit. Lou did not grace to return them with one, throwing the beer back and drinking down the last of it before tossing it in the trash.

“Thank you for your insight,” Kai said.

“Shove it up your ass.”

Skylor frowned at the disrespect, but at Kai’s sharp gesture, turned away. She pulled the screen door open, holding it for Kai to step through, but Kai paused.

He turned his head to speak over his shoulder without glancing back. “Just so you’re aware, Mr. Brookstone—your son is alive. If he tries to contact you, I trust you’ll do the right thing.”

Kai stepped out of view. As Skylor moved through and let go of the door, she threw a look backwards. Lou’s expression was of a man who had just woken from a coma, only to find himself lost at sea. Dull shock.

The paper door slid shut, muffling the noise of the creaky fan. The sound of the musical act on stage took over again. Skylor matched her strides to Kai’s side, eyes scanning through every open door to make sure there weren’t any threats lying in wait. Then she looked at Kai.

He somehow looked less attached to his body than Lou had.

Skylor slipped her hand into his and squeezed. He didn’t twitch, moving forward robotically. They passed a performer in an extravagant dress and wig who turned to stare at them. Her eye makeup made them look wide with excitement, but it hadn’t been caked on enough to hide the bags under them.

Skylor pulled at Kai’s hand until he stopped just outside the staff door into the ballroom.

“Did you know him?” She asked, lacing their fingers together. His head turned, but he stared through her.

“Who?” the man said distantly.

“His son. Cole, right?”

Kai didn’t respond. His gaze was empty, like there was nobody home. He didn’t move. Anxiety began to grow in Skylor’s gut. She tugged at his hand but—she didn’t have a clue what to do. She’d seen Kai struggle before, she’d struggled plenty of times, but this? She didn’t know how to fix this. Sho was supposed to be the one person able to keep his perfect composure.

This wasn’t the Grand Commander of the Imperial Military that she’d grown to know. This was just…Kai. And maybe she didn’t know him like she’d known the Shogun.

“Kai?” she tried. He twitched, but didn’t focus on her until she reached up to grab her chin between thumb and finger. “Kai.”

“I’m fine. Let’s go.” He tugged her away by the wrist and slipped through the door.

She didn’t have a choice but to follow.

The saxophone on the stage was mid-solo, the chatter of the crowd returning. They weren’t spared a glance in the darkness of the ballroom this time around. Kai eyed the exit, but stopped by the bar on the way, bracing both his hands on the end of the mirror-top. He exhaled, closing his eyes, like he needed to catch his breath.

The bartender nearby nodded when Kai held up a finger, gesturing towards another patron’s glass, which clearly held whiskey on the rocks.

Skylor fell in behind him, wrapping an arm around his waist to lean into his personal space. “Hey, talk to me.”

He shook his head. “Just…need a second. We can talk tomorrow morning. You’re dismissed, if you want to go back to the hotel to sleep.”

“I’m not tired,” she hummed, holding up another finger to the bartender. The bow-tie’d man nodded. “But if I’m dismissed from duty, I’ll join you for that drink.”

Kai grunted in acknowledgement, but didn’t sit down—clearly this was going to be a walk-me-down sort of drink. Skylor stayed at his side, up until she noticed the sweat beading along Kai’s brow. Weird. Weird. Not a good sign—Kai didn’t overheat.

She squeezed his side before pushing off of him, maneuvering through the crowd to find a napkin. The only ones they seemed to have were overly-embroidered, gold-lined ones that were soft to the touch, but she wasn’t going to complain. A waiter nodded, handing her one, and she began to make her way back.

She pushed a few people aside, eyes crinkled with concern on the hunched back of Kai’s suit jacket. Her worry distracted her—it could have been a deadly mistake.

Her instincts only kicked in, little hairs raising, in the moment before the hand touched her. A presence was at her back, fingers digging into her hip—she jerked in surprise.

Her hand shot down, nails biting into soft skin. She ripped the arm upwards, scowling, and kept twisting.

The man grunted in pain—the old man that had been eyeing her before she and Kai had gone into the staff hallways. His haori was covered in pompous, roaring ligers, hair recently trimmed short, body not flabby, but lazily built. She hadn’t recognized him in the darkness before, but now—her blood ran cold.

She sneered, shoving him back from her. His hands had already burned into her skin, like someone with cold fingers had closed their grip around the back of her neck.

The man chuckled. “I knew it was you. Hello, general.”

“Watch where your hands land, or you may lose them,” she hissed, straightening her velvet dress over her leg. Her fingers curled around the towelette, as if she could use it as a weapon.

The man’s face was clearly flushed at their close proximity. It was no wonder he would be so bold. That and, of course, the protection he had under the emperor.

The Shogun may have the authority to remove whomever he wished at any point in time, but Skylor was not viewed by Garmadon with such trust. She had rules she was forced to follow or else be punished—and that included keeping her blade away from the emperor’s preferred officials. Unfortunately including the Director of Imperial Finances, Han Ying. And he, along with others, had gotten far too comfortable around her as a result of her…obligations to the empire.

She pretended that she was clenching her fist out of anger and not just to keep it from trembling. Trembling with rage, of course, nothing more. Nothing more.

“As fiery as I remember,” the man smiled to himself, wisely pulling his hands to tum. “A big day for the empire is coming up and the emperor has been pleased with my work. Perhaps if I make a call, you could join me for a glass of wine tonight?”

Skylor worked her jaw. “Fortunately, I’m here for business, not pleasure, director. I have no time to waste on you, no matter the way you beg to His Majesty. You value your use too highly, this day.”

His eyes ran down her body. Suddenly, the full-skin coverage wasn’t enough, everything too tight, squeezing her body like a vice. She hated that the lustful gaze made her feel so exposed. “That doesn’t look like proper uniform attire to me.”

“Don’t test me.”

“What sort of business would your master send you on here?” The man leaned closer to whisper. “Does he let you enjoy your freedom for a while before he takes you home and bends you over, is that it?”

Skylor leaned away from his reeking breath, gathering a glob of saliva in her mouth before spitting at the man’s feet.

It splattered against his grease-shined shoes. Without another word, she turned away, heels clicking in her wake.

She should have known that wouldn’t be the end of it, just from the smell of his breath. She felt disgusting already, from his touch, from his words, memories pressing into her skull, telling her to be anywhere but before him. That past was behind her. It didn’t happen anymore, and certainly not tonight, no matter the requests for prize that Han Ying sent the emperor’s way.

His words followed her across the room. “Struck a nerve, did I? I’m not surprised. I’m sure your master’s a foul romantic. Back in the days when the emperor ordered him, too, to keep the worthy company, no one would waste their time trying to impress a godling with love. I always knew my efforts would have been wasted on you, after all.”

Rage built in Skylor’s chest at his audacity. Her qi swirled furiously in her chest, building and building, but with no natural release, so instead, painful cramping began to eat through her stomach.

She rounded on him with a snarl. “Do not speak of the Lord Commander that way, or I will arrest you on account of treason. You forget your place, Ying. There has been no point in time where a pathetic director of your standing has ever or will ever have any authority over the imperial military. Special circumstances ordered by the emperor have never changed that fact. Watch your words.”

People were glancing over, but their voices were not truly raised enough to be heard over the music. By the nature of their heated debate, however, they were receiving wary looks from the waiting staff. Skylor recalled Kai’s wish to not cause a scene.

Fuming, she turned and stalked toward the end of the bar, white-knuckling the napkin.

“Don’t turn your back on me, you insolent girl,” Han growled behind her, footsteps following. “You are a slave of the empire, as you always have been, a slave of mine. I know the truth of the elementals—obedient is what you all should be, after terrorizing humanity for so many centuries. That is why the emperor has leashed you all so. Even your master, who uses you like a doll, is no more than a monster caged by the great son of the Realm! You are bound by His Majesty to serve until your death!”

“Sir—” An employee attempted to step in.

A hand reached toward her arm—Skylor circled his wrist quicker than he could comprehend and twisted. People quieted around them at the snap from his wrist, followed by Han’s resulting scream.

The band’s playing screeched to a halt. Han jerked away as people stumbled back from them. The old man blubbered drunkenly, holding his arm to himself and giving Skylor a betrayed look, like he truly couldn’t believe she had defended herself from him.

“You—bitch!” He stuttered in his upper-Ninjago accent. “You dare?! The emperor will hear of this…this treachery!”

“I may be a slave, but I am your slave no longer,” she hissed, then louder, “The emperor will be hearing of this from me.”

Then, Kai was beside her, in a canted stance, his body facing her shoulder. The crystalline glass was still in one hand, but he looked more present in his body than he had since the day before. His cold look at Han Ying was neutral, to anyone else, but Skylor noticed the strain of his knuckles around the glass, the heat radiating from him at such close proximity.

Something in her shamefully breathed easier.

There was not a world where she could not squish Han Ying into the pavement should she so choose. But the strangled emotions in her seemed to not totally agree. However, the presence of Kai at her side was like a shield, even when he did not stand directly between her and her abuser. Unlike all the times before, Skylor was no longer alone.

Kai said nothing, but his eyes flickered over her warily.

“You won’t get the chance to complain to Shadowspire,” Han Ying laughed, unimpressed at Kai’s appearance. “Is this your fling of the night? How will the Shogun react to the news of you slutting yourself around? All those years of tears, only for you to turn to such a life willingly.”

Skylor ground her teeth together to keep from lunging at him.

“Director Han Ying. You are under arrest for the slander of imperial officials in a public setting and for divulging imperial secrets that breach your oath of loyalty,” Kai abruptly began speaking, the flair of his nostrils giving away his anger. “From this point forward you have forfeited your rights as a citizen of the Empire and by the grace of His Majesty, your life will be spared. Although I don’t think he’ll care enough to give any thought to you.”

Han Ying just scowled in confusion—the rest of the ballroom had gone silent at the standoff. The drunken man clearly was having a difficult time putting the pieces together.

“Do you know who I am?” The man shouted, pointing a finger, hand full of too-large rings. “I don’t care who’s pants you’ve been in, boy, you chose the wrong whore to give yourself any author—”

The man’s words choked off as a hand circled his throat. The drunken man tripped backwards as he was dragged, unable to keep up with his lack of coordination. Kai pulled him along like luggage instead, not bothered by the man’s thrashing. In his other hand, he still held the glass of whiskey, which was sloshing out the sides.

“You couldn’t just shut up,” Kai mumbled to himself.

“Let—uurhhg!” Han slapped at the offending arm, heels digging into the polished wood floor, but no luck.

Violent satisfaction bloomed in Skylor’s gut at the sight of the harried man. She found herself suppressing a smile as she followed. Kai was nonplussed—the silent crowd parted for him, unable to understand the extent of the situation, but all of them unwilling to get involved.

The two beefy doormen’s eyes widened at the scene, but they stepped aside in recognition. The director’s bloodshot gaze became more panicked by the second when no one lended him aid, and the oxygen slowly emptied from his lungs. His red face began to turn purple.

The cool night air was a relief from the warm atmosphere of the club. The aristocrats and wealthy patrons waiting in line outside yelped and shouted in shock when Han Ying was thrown from the sidewalk and into the street. His feet left the ground and he rolled once, twice, before skidding to a stop.

His hair, previously gelled into shape, was now askew and poking upright, his haori ripped against the pavement of the street. He whipped his head up, coughing and holding his throat, to pin Kai with a vengeful dark scowl.

“You would lay your hands on me? Me?” He howled, voice hoarse. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Do you think that you will be protected by her favor when the rage of the emperor is brought down on you?”

From his hands and knees, being watched and humiliated by the audience of hundreds, the threat couldn’t have been more embarrassing. The neon lights of the street reflected in his shiny haori only in the places that dirt hadn’t already smudged. The man winced under the use of his hand.

People backed away uneasily and the mention of the emperor himself. Their eyes tracked warily between the director and Kai, who for the moment, remained unrecognized with his bare face.

The street vibrated, like the aftershock of an earthquake. People muttered fearfully, glancing toward one another. Then another shake—joined by a deep, distant THRUM. And another. THRUM. The vibration grew heavier and heavier until the beat of a dragon’s wings was unmistakable.

Dreadmaw didn’t roar. It was silent death from above, the ominous tremble of the world the only warning before—WHOOSH! The umbrellas above the street dining ripped themselves into awkward angles before collapsing down. Dresses flew up, jackets ruffled out, people tripped and stumbled with the force of the winds. Even Skylor jerked her arm up to protect her face from the cutting air as the massive creature sped by like a 200-mile-an-hour semi-truck.

Han Ying’s scream cut off and he vanished from the street. His sobs could be heard from the claws of the dragon as it finally did ROAR, a throat-deep bellow, shaking the earth for a final time before vanishing up into the night sky, lithe form hiding between the stars.

The wealthy gaped in terror and disbelief, frozen from The Mauve Note’s line to the fine dining parties that lined the street.

Kai wiped the hand he’d used to drag Han Ying on his pants, casually bringing the remains of his whiskey up and throwing the amber drink back. He handed the crystal glassware into the numb hand of one of the bouncers. The man fumbled to take it.

Skylor glanced toward the teenage girl with the valet jacket on. “We’re done for the night.”

The girl stared at Skylor for two long beats, then sprinted toward the parking garage to collect their hovermobile.

Kai returned to her side. “Okay?”

She just hummed in response, handing him the napkin she’d meant to give him.

He took it, wiped the sweat from his brow, then handed it to one of the bouncers. Then, he shoved his hands in his pockets, ignoring their audience, and turned his cheek to her.

She crossed her arms, hugging them to herself, and tried to push down the ghosts of hands across her body.

Neither said anything on the drive back to their luxurious hotel.

Once there, Kai’s tie pulled loose, and Skylor’s heels already strung between her fingers, he turned away from her to make a phone call.

“General Shade,” he greeted lowly, maneuvering his tie until he could pull it off his head and flick it onto the couch. “No. No, it’s not about that…Yes, I am perfectly aware. I need—close your mouth for once and listen to me—” He rolled his eyes. “No. I need your special operations to keep twenty-four-seven eyes on Lou Brookstone for the foreseeable future. Monitor all incoming and outgoing communications, all event attendees…no, you fool…I have reason to believe he’ll attempt contact with the rebels soon…”

Skylor closed herself in the bedroom and pressed her back against the wall, slowly sliding down it. She dropped her heels beside her—the material of her leggings and the cotton of her dress were suddenly suffocating.

But she kept breathing. She dug her nails into the flesh of her thighs and pushed through it. Because that’s what she always did.

-

Kai didn’t come inside the room until much later. She would wager that he’d made at least three other phone calls and scrolled through a few reports before he’d even considered turning it all in. The bags under his eyes were canyons. The day after tomorrow, the securest event the empire had ever attempted to hold would be happening—and Lloyd would be in the public eye outside of Shadowspire for the first time in his life.

When Kai did come in, he did only to collect his belongings. Sweatpants, tablet, hoodie, even the cold cup of tea. She didn’t have to ask to know that he planned on sleeping on the couch.

She didn’t mention it, legs crossed on the bed, a stupid reality TV show on the hotel’s flatscreen.

His phone, even now, was pinned between his shoulder and his ear.

“…What happened to not calling me while I’m working?” Kai was saying. His voice lacked the edge of his official persona. “Don’t worry, I’ll be the first thing you see in the morning…I know, kiddo. I know. You’re doing great…Don’t let it get to you. I promised we’d figure it out after everything has calmed down, didn’t I?…It won’t…I won’t let that happen—Hey, take a deep breath. You said we wouldn’t be upset anymore, remember?”

Skylor scrolled through her phone to skim the reports of the day, tamping down her urge to roll her eyes. There were many reports. With the big event being prepared the next day, every small threat or security concern was being treated with emergency status. Nothing could go wrong the day after tomorrow.

But Lieutenant General Eyezor had already flagged many of them as read and handled, which Skylor was immensely grateful for. Other officers down her chain of command were making their way through the slog, as well.

She was lucky to be getting sleep tonight—the rest of them likely wouldn’t. That just meant her responsibilities the next day would be the heaviest. She didn’t mind if that meant she had the night to unwind. After seeing Han Ying…she had a feeling rest wouldn’t come easily.

“The android?” Kai faced away from her, still hugging his pile of belongings. He sounded confused. “Okay…sure, I guess. I didn’t—Yeah. Right. Well, that’s something to think about later…No, Your Highness, now is the time for sleep. Give the phone back to the general…What, do I need to tell you a bedtime story again? A lullaby?…I can try to make whale noises until I hear you snoring…Yes, you do—Yeah-huh! You’re a chainsaw!…Alright, alright…Yep, goodnight.”

Kai dropped his things on the bed for a moment, then pulled the phone from his ear. The instant the conversation ended, any life drained from his eyes.

He frowned at Skylor. “How long has Borg’s android been at the palace?”

“You don’t know?” Skylor glanced up from her reports, still scrolling. “I thought she was being held there by your order.”

His lips tightened. “If there was an order, it wasn’t mine. Androids are too unpredictable. What reason were you given?”

“A hostage.” Skylor’s heart sunk. “The prince seemed convinced. He spends a lot of time with her.”

Kai sighed, bringing the phone back up to his ear. He turned and stepped out of the room for a moment longer. This time, he stood close enough to the door’s sensor that it remained open for Skylor to hear.

“Ash…No, it’s not a problem, I’ve told him he can…No…Stay by his side until I return. I don’t care if you have to bring a roll in to sleep on his floor…A hunch of mine. And send me the order put in to detain Borg’s android in Shadowspire…Yes, I am aware, just keep your eye on it…pass any concerns along to me…Alright. That is all.”

The door closed again.

Skylor’s eyes began to strain. She set her phone aside, crossing her legs and closing her eyes. The sounds of the two woman on the screen argued away and she attempted to focus on the words that they were saying.

But with her eyes closed, a dark world oppressed her. Hands touched her bare skin, slipped under her night shirt, groped and pinched at her chest. Hands slid under her waistband, cupping her between the legs, gripping skin so hard it would bruise the next day. Arms squeezed and squeezed until she couldn’t breathe.

She ripped her eyes open, hugging herself. She could still smell Han Ying’s breath—sharp, like the cardamum he had used to chew.

One of the woman in the show bitched, “But you’re saying I complain about stuff when I asked ‘Oh, is she in there with them’, and they said ‘yeah, everything is set up’—how is that complaining when someone’s not telling me all the information—!”

The other responded, “I’m just—I’m more, like, chill, so I think when you—!”

“Are you?!”

“Oh, don’t even go there!”

Skylor inhaled…exhaled. The sheets under her were soft. The windows across the room, to her right, wafted chill air that mixed with the heating of the hotel room. It smelled like cleaning products and freshly washed laundry, some of Kai’s scent left over. She was safe.

But she couldn’t reassure herself that she would always be safe. That it would never happen again. Because as long as she was indentured to the emperor, it would happen.

To most of the population, they were untouchable. To some, monsters, to others, superheroes. But to those who had little reason to fear, those who were useful and loyal to the empire, who saw them on a closer level of status…Skylor, and any of the elementals, were a prize to be won.

Because if you touched a god, lay with a god, conquered a god, didn’t that make you a god as well? The emperor found the requests amusing, she had gathered. Prove undying loyalty to him, and all that he had to give in return was a night with one of his obedient subjects? So that those most loyal, most worthy, for a brief few hours, could feel as if they were the most powerful and sought out people in the land? Garmadon must have laughed every time, with every order he had sent Skylor’s way.

She clenched her fists.

Kai stepped into the room wordlessly, going to collect his things. He didn’t look at Skylor—but his eyes were lost in whatever world he had been in all day. The world with his sister and Cole Brookstone and the Blue Ninja they’d nearly killed.

In that world all day, but for the moment he was speaking with Lloyd, and when Han Ying had touched her.

She forced her body to relax, shoulders dropping.

“You didn’t kill him.” She knew the her disappointment was clear.

He grunted in acknowledgement. Han Ying had probably been escorted to Shadowspire’s dungeon by now.

“You spared the rebels, too—the councilwoman and the officer who knew you.”

“…If you have something to say, just say it.”

He looked at her from across the room with his arms full of laundry and his shirt half-unbuttoned, hair having clearly been run through by his own hand. Whatever clarity the assault on her had brought him hadn’t been any kind of cure.

Everything about him was unsteady. On the edge of a knife, waiting to tip one way or the other.

“Something happened in Nagas,” she squeezed her ankles under her lap. “Something you won’t talk about. But it’s eating you up. If you don’t get it together by tomorrow, you’ll be useless to Lloyd. You might as well hold him in front of a serpentine battalion and tell them to take their best shot.”

He began to shake his head. “Nothing will distract me from him—”

“Your sister is a ninja,” she inturrupted him.

He didn’t respond.

She took a deep breath. “And you were, too. You didn’t know they were alive, and now you do. It changes things, doesn’t it?”

He hesitated, eyes glued to his laundry. “…I…I don’t know.”

Skylor hit the mute button on the remote, silencing the arguing voices of whatever rich family was being filmed. She unfolded, her legs falling off the side of the bed. “Kai…”

He pressed his lips together grimly, but looked up at her.

“I hate Garmadon. You hate Garmadon. They hate Garmadon. You know where I’m going with this.”

He was already shaking his head. “No. We can’t.”

She let out a bitter laugh. “Why not? They’re your friends—or were your friends, you could talk to them, we could work together—If there’s one thing we could ever agree on with the rebels, it’s this. With Garmadon dead, Lloyd would be put on the throne…we can deal with his dearly betrothed easily after the emperor is gone.”

“I mean we can’t.”

“With the four original elements, the generals, and the resistance's elemental reserves? Don’t tell me you believe in that Green Ninja nonsense.” She gestured out the large windows, over the city. “No matter how powerful Garmadon is, he still bleeds! You might have failed when you were, what, fourteen? But now?”

“It’s impossible.”

“You’re not going to think about it for even a second?”

“There is…so little else that I think about, Sky. But you don’t understand what’s at stake.”

“Then explain it to me. Because you told me you were tired, and I am too—tired of waiting for some sign from the First Master that he’s not going to last forever. It’s been eight years since you begged Garmadon to spare me, convinced him of my innocence after my father failed. And I have been doing nothing for eight years but proving my loyalty whatever way I have to just to live another day.

“I’ve given everything I’ve ever had. My body, my soul—everything I ever hoped for, dreamed of. I don’t even know who I am. For the First Master’s sake, I met a robot yesterday with more humanity than I’ve ever felt. And none of it has ever mattered. If I make one wrong move, I’m as good as dead as I would have been that day. Not all of us have the privilege of being in his good graces.”

Kai set his laundry at the foot of the bed again, exhaling and sitting next to her. There was a healthy two feet between them that neither attempted to breech, still too raw from the events of the day. He folded his hands between his legs, looking down at his knees. Young.

Skylor hugged a bent leg to her chest, propping her chin on it, only to angle her head away from him. She busied herself tugging out her hair, if only so she could be distracted as she continued.

“He turned us into this. I don’t remember what it’s like to be guilty for killing a human being. Maybe that was my father, maybe the empire—I don’t…I don’t know anymore. I feel like an animal. Killing, bleeding, being used for him, just to survive. I don’t want to be that anymore. I don’t…I don’t want to be owned. I’m tired of being used. I am…I am alive. And I deserve to be free.”

She said it softly—almost like a whisper. Even as the words spilled out of her, she hadn’t realized the truth in them before. She hadn’t realized the yearning. She hadn’t even known she could yearn for something she’d given up on before she could even remember.

“I am alive,” she repeated.

Kai’s hands curled. The slope of his shoulders spoke of sorrow.

She’d been four years old when her father had first put a curved blade in her hand and helped her gut a live pig. The entrails had fallen out in a wet spill over her robes. A ritual sacrifice to the First Master to bless his path. The next one had been a man. Death had become meaningless to her quickly.

It hadn’t been that way for Kai. When they had been teenagers, he used to cry over their names. He would sob and beg forgiveness and pray for the deceased to be treated well in the afterlife. Skylor had been…fascinated. Jealous, maybe. That he could feel so strongly. He’d learned to temper it, to feel and move on, but…there was something in him that was sorry for every head he felled.

She hadn’t realized—that she longed for the day when she would be allowed to feel that way.

“So, please, tell me what I don’t understand,” she begged—begged—him. She tugged her hair, untwirled from her updo. “Tell me what makes it all—”

“Jamanakai Village.”

Skylor’s fingers froze around her limp pony tail. “…What does that mean?”

Kai dug his tablet out from his clothes, flicking the blue screen to life. He swiped across it, typed a few times, then held it out for her. He faced her fully, a grim, almost to the point of grief, line between his brows, lips twitching downwards. His eyes were heavy with that grief.

She took the tablet from him like it was made of porcelain, flickering from his serious expression to the holoscreen.

It was a field report. Dated seven years prior. Written by then-Corporal Takeshi Hutchins. According to the disclaimer at the top of the screen, Kai and Captain Hutchins themselves were the only ones with access to the information. Much of it was blacklisted, pinging at her for a handprint to view the full sheet.

“I don’t have access,” Skylor grimaced. “I…didn’t think there was any military information I didn’t have access to.”

“This is the only one.” Kai pressed his palm to the screen. It scanned his prints. The black lines across the report vanished. He pointed down at it. “Because of this, if there is even a chance that an assassination attempt on him fails…it isn’t worth it. The only time to strike is when the odds are stacked against him. When it’s impossible for us to lose. Or else…Or else it’s over.”

“Garmadon…has a failsafe.”

“For if I ever betray him. Yeah.”

Skylor shouldn’t have been shocked. After all, the demon recruited allies by torturing them into submission, or accepting turncoats into his ranks. That never went well; General Tox being a prime example.

But he valued the powers of elementals too highly to let them slip through his fingers. Of course he would have something to hang over Kai’s head after trusting him with…well, everything. His son, his security, his empire. If Garmadon were to die that very night, before Lloyd’s crowning as the official heir, the next most likely person to inherit it all…was Kai. He had such immense influence in the Realm, it would be neigh impossible for anyone to challenge his authority, especially from outside the imperial military. Kai could crush them with a phone call—and if not, then with his bare hands.

Giving a man that much power after he had been raised by your greatest foe, even if Garmadon was convinced of Kai’s loyalty…It was too much to give so freely, too much for a selfish being like Garmadon to fully trust to anyone but himself.

Whatever Skylor held in her hands…it was serious. Serious and terrible enough that Kai had forced the entire Realm to fall in line behind His Majesty’s rule to prevent the consequences.

“It’s that bad?” She asked, despite knowing the answer.

He nodded solemnly. “Read.”

Chapter Text

Explosions lit up the populated square with swaths of color, paled by the mid-morning light of the rising sun. Music echoed across the streets, imperial marching anthems meant to inspire confidence and comradery. People cheered and hooted from behind blockades put in place by the city, people’s faces painted purple and black, flags with the imperial crest waving in the air. A baby in a mother’s arms had a beanie on it’s small head with the violet feathers of the phoenix printed across it—a man with a full beard wore an old imperial uniform that was nearly too small for him, but he’d squeezed into it for the occasion. He saluted other officers that marched passed him in strict, straight lines, the footsteps of their heavy boots in sync.

After the procession of military men, the ever-lasting units of troopers stomped passed. Their helmets reflected the sunlight, freshly shined, blinding the spectators that watched from their balconies and terraces. More fireworks went off—making some in the crowds roar with laughter and joy, while a few individuals flinched away from the bangs. The engines of the military vehicles growled as they chugged forward. A tank, modernized and sleek, passed people by.

Millions filled the streets. Imperial police watched them on every block from their armored trucks, eyes close to the exits to the barricades—and hassling any who attempted to leave. There was clear strain on some of the spectator’s smiles—sweat beaded the heads of others, despite the cool morning breeze. The number of people made the body heat and odor impossible to avoid. It smelled of damp synthetic fabric and street dust as the pavement was dragged across by float after float. Most military—some large corporations known to be owned, or at least dictated by, the imperial government.

A large balloon, the width of a building, floated by—it was a great liger with a BorgTech jersey on. Behind it, sitting in the open-air roof of an open limo, was Cyrus Borg himself. The space beside him has been noticeably left open by him. He did not wave, nor did he smile. In fact, he looked to be a man who had been stuck in the waiting room of the gallows for far too long. An imperial official, sitting across from him, waved for Borg.

Not long later, Governor Hikaru passed through. They were to the east of his region, but the citizens screamed for the man atop his grand float of two stories, a charismatic smile on his face. Upon his self-made throne, he looked like a kindly father. The holoscreens showing close-ups of each attraction on the buildings of every block projected that humble wave of his and the crinkles around his eyes.

After him, citizens called out in surprise. Some moved back from the barricades, some moved closer. Two more imperial tanks lead, their plasma canons pointed backwards, unlike the first tanks to pass through. The reason was quickly apparent. Chains dragged against the ground, grating on ears, and causing sparks against the cement. A chill went through the air, breaching even the wall of body heat within the crowd. Music continued to blare, great drums beating a fun tune behind the deep call of tubas and funky bob of the trumpets.

A jet black dragon drug itself across the ground, heavy scales dusted with chalky grey by the asphalt beneath. It rose above the third story balconies, teeth long and menacing, slim body powerful and smooth in every movement, every step. It’s bones pressed against it’s skin from the inside, dark head hanging low beneath a heavy metal crown it was not used it. Long, healed-over gashes decorated it’s scales, the damage peeling away lines of it’s protective hide to leave bare flesh, as if the damage were brand new, and the dragon bled pale flesh.

As it’s head bowed, it revealed a figure that sat astride it’s neck, which was also wrapped in chains. The figure was a man, with a scowling, white-pale face, and hair dark enough that it lost all texture. General Shade wrapped his hands around the chains, jerking the dragon to stay on the path before them. The chains wrapped the rest of the dragon’s body, just in case there was any doubt of who had dominated who. The civilians of the empire watched on in awe at the god-like figure who rode along the back of a monstrous beast of humanity like it was nothing.

The dragon growled at General Shade, shifting, and General Shade dug his heels in, trying not to vomit from the nausea in front of the entire empire. The scowl on his face successfully passed off as severe and mature rather than uncomfortable.

The forced bond between them due to their physical contact was not helping with the swaying movement of the agitated dragon. It fought General Shade in his head, wanting to fly away, to stomp across the crowd, to kill him, specifically. Yes, the hatred the dragon had for General Shade was so palpable through the bond that Shade could taste the bloodlust. It made him feel the same hatred when he looked out at the crowd of spectators, at the back of Governor Hikargu’s float, and with every time he had to tear the chains of the dragon a new direction.

The dragon, again, tried to challenge Shade by pulling him to the right.

Shade grit his teeth, digging the chains into the dragon’s neck. “Obey, you pathetic reptile.”

The dragon berated Shade’s mind with images of him biting Shade in half, blood spewing across the crowd, and the looks of the citizens quickly going from mocking the dragon’s pathetic image to screaming terror.

Shade sneered, impressing his will through their bond to intimidate the dragon. The dragon growled, but cowed itself. In reality, it did not have much to fear. Although it’s wings were tied away and Shade could pull at it’s throat, they were both powerless in such proximity to vengestone. It was yet another thing that was making Shade feel sick—he was swaying, blind to the shadows nearby, and competing with a monster for mental domination.

He hated his job.

Above them, a piercing ROAR echoed across the street and a wall of wind fwooshed! by. Shade glared at the form of the great red dragon that swooped up from behind, only to blow fire forty stories up, and turn its wings away from them once more. He felt a bitter jealously toward the Shogun for getting having a dragon as a constant companion rather than an impromptu parade partner. Of course Shade would be stuck with one that wasn’t a fan of it’s imprisonment.

He did not need to turn his eyes to track the path of the red dragon—the images dominating the advertisement screens across the skyscrapers did it for him. The red dragon returned to it’s circle around the highest of floats in the length of the celebration—the slow moving piece of decoration casting a great shadow over Shade and the dragon he rode upon.

Two meeker, smaller dragons of bone white scales and dusty copper, followed behind the black dragon, equally as trussed up in the heavy chains, all of them connected together. General Shade led the triangle of monsters, and beyond them, the spectacle of the Crown Prince.

The slow moving float, hovering just above the ground using the same magnetic framework that the hover mobiles used in their programmed routes around Upper City. It towered up three, four, five, six building levels, a layer at each level, as if it were a giant cake. Imperial Guards, in their full polished armor of sharp edges and their skull-shaped helms lined the layers, amongst them sprinkles moving holograms of swooping and flying phoenixes, purple and blue sparks thrown all around as they weaved between soldiers and layers.

The imperial crest draped the float at every side. And at the top, where more banners hung and an impressive imperial throne lay, the Crown Prince himself sat.

His body was adorned in layer after layer of colorful fabrics of whites, blacks, greys, and purples, the seams encrusted with precious gems, his robe skirts creating a twelve foot trail behind him when he stood, and his obi crafted with the most precious of beadwork and embroidery. Every stitch was made of nothing less than pure silver, his presence sparkling with every turn. His face had been painted until he no longer resembled the boy he had been, with over-pronounced cheekbones, a solid line of a jaw, perfectly plucked eyebrows, and everything in between. And of course, on his head, was an imposing crown made of twisted steel and rocks of obsidian, should the humanity of his grace make any forget what sort of creature he was.

Beneath the majesty of his ethereal appearance, the bright green of his eyes was dulled out and unnoticeable.

The parade had immediately followed his coronation that morning in Shadowspire, where all of the nobles, officers, and government bodies had watched the Shogun lower the crown on his blond head. The emperor himself had emerged from his dark cave of a throne room to partake in the morning ceremony. And between that moment kneeling before his great father, and now, the prince had not had a single moment to breathe.

Lloyd had known that the schedule of the day would be tight and hectic, but he’d been unprepared for the weight of it all. The practice runs he’d spent the entire day before going through had never emulated well enough the stuff, boxy feeling of his robes, the weight of the crown on his head, and how utterly unchanged he felt.

Well, aside from the uncomfortable kinship he felt towards cake-toppers.

Everything, too, was muffled, and the air was cold so high up. His nose felt frozen, and his body was over-heating, sweat making his armpits itch. It didn’t feel like a celebration, being so high above all of the crowds. He could barely see the head of General Shade’s dragon if he stood and leaned out over the side, which Kai would probably not let him do.

The only other person atop the peak layer of the float was, of course, the Shogun. It didn’t really feel like Kai was there with him at all, however. Kai’s eyes were only everywhere else—scanning the crowds, directing Dreadmaw over buildings, muttering communications with his generals and officers as they continued to secure the streets, sharp gaze jumping from threat to threat—everywhere but Lloyd.

“Kai,” he mumbled—aware of the cameras on him, of his own unrecognizable face staring down at every person down the block of advertisement screens. “Kai!”

The Shogun’s helm swung over, eyes going up and down him, as if Lloyd possibly could have been hurt in the time he’d glanced away. The commander’s mechanical monotone asked, “What? Is something wrong?”

Yes. Lloyd was in the city, but unable to touch it, he couldn’t breathe, he was hot and cold, and he didn’t want to be here. And he was getting a little hungry, which he only knew because he was also grumpy.

“I need to pee!” He hissed out of the corner of his mouth.

Kai’s gaze was unimpressed. “Hold it.”

“I’ve been holding it. Are we almost done?”

A firework whistled through the air and exploded above of General Shade ahead of them. Kai tensed, eyes sliding away from Lloyd, distracted. “…I told you, when we get to the Imperial Center, you’ll be done.”

“How much long until that?”

“When we get to Shoji Street, we’ll have ten minutes left. That’s thirty-six streets from here. Okay?”

Lloyd clamped his jaw shut to keep from groaning with annoyance. That didn’t give him a time frame that was helpful at all. At least he didn’t have to wonder if his makeup was melting, then freezing wrong on his face—the broadcasts all around made sure he knew just how porcelain he looked. At least he’d never been asked to smile.

A blimp floated by, the image swerving up the cake layers until it flashed by the dark figure of the Shogun, then landed on Lloyd. The Lloyd in that image looked like the Crown Prince of the Empire, truly, but he did not feel it.

At least that Crown Prince did not appear as dreadfully bored as Lloyd was, either.

“Kai,” Lloyd tried again. “Did you speak to my father about Harumi during your meeting yesterday?”

Kai was looking down and to the left—away from Lloyd. His talon-clad fingers were flying across the holo-gauntlet that was presenting him with information. “No.”

“…I know you said after today, but my father did tell you he was planning on making the announcement public at the dinner tonight, didn’t he? Don’t you think that if that happens, he’d be less willing to go back on his word? I just—Kai.”

He was clearly not listening to a word. Kai held a hand up to dismiss Lloyd. “Not now, kid. Talk later.”

“But—” Lloyd ground his teeth. He was being ignored now. With zero intone, Lloyd said, “Oh no, my longpao’s on fire. That sucks.”

Kai only glanced over long enough to run his eyes over Lloyd’s skirt, give Lloyd a stink-eye, then turn back to the endless crowd of people.

Lloyd rolled his eyes, equally as annoyed.

He took a deep breath and closed them. One good thing to come out of this—he was out of the valley again. He’d missed the free feeling of his ribcage and breath. He was able to reach out with his qi, now, and feel around himself. He could feel the mind of Dreadmaw and the communications between her and Kai—Dreadmaw’s amusement at being able to swoop and fly, the way she’d played as a child—the rigid and stressed tone of Kai’s commands toward her. Kai’s mind, unlike in their times before, was completely cut off from Lloyd—it made him feel shut out, as his friend had clearly done this on purpose. Just in case Lloyd was doubting how much of a burden he could be.

He could sense the other three dragons beneath them, and General Shade—who’s presence cringed away from contact with Lloyd’s, disgust radiating through him. He could even vaguely sense the other generals around—almost all of them were place strategically around Lloyd. He’d gathered that although the military had done away with the rebel threat, their elemental masters, the ninja, were still at large.

He found himself wondering about them. They were more people like Kai and General Skylor. He wondered why they hated the empire. He knew there were reasons to be upset with it, but what had driven them to become terrorists and endanger innocent people? Bad things must have happened to them, Lloyd thought. Bad things like how Skylor’s father had mistreated her, or Kai had been hurt so many times. Maybe they could be reasoned with.

He wondered if Kai had ever considered trying to talk to them. To become friends with them rather than continue to fight them as enemies.

Lloyd glanced over, eyes jumping to the sharp points of the Shogun’s shoulder pauldrons and the menacing lines of his demonic mask. Kai was reasonable. If he thought there was a way through diplomacy, he would have tried, wouldn’t he? He wasn’t like Lloyd’s father. Not to that extent. Right? No. No, Kai was far better than that.

Dreadmaw flew up from behind Lloyd’s egregiously large throne, her claws landing on the side of the float’s layer and digging in. The float swayed a bit with the added weight, and Kai threw Dreadmaw an annoyed look.

Dreadmaw’s great head craned around Lloyd’s throne, her warm nostrils snorting ashy air over him in greeting. Kai flicked a hand without looking over, and the glowing ash bounced away from Lloyd like he was surrounded by an invisible force field.

“Hey, girl,” Lloyd smiled with some effort, reaching out to give her snout a rub. He did appreciate the thick, fireproof gloves he’d been given, even knowing his fire-proof robes were made with the intent of his quick escape on the dragon’s back should Kai become…incapacitated.

The images on the buildings zoomed in as Lloyd stroked down Dreadmaw’s scales. He tried to ignore the awed sounds from below.

Dreadmaw briefly closed her eyes, pleased. She made a reptilian purr against him, happiness before forced through her side of the bond to his. He couldn’t help the unnatural relief that relaxed his shoulders.

“Thanks,” he sighed. “At least someone here loves me.”

Kai moved his head as if he were scoffing behind his vocoder, but was still to enraptured in his hyper-vigilance to snip back ‘you’re such a drama prince’ or…literally anything.

Dreadmaw’s tail came up the opposite side of Lloyd’s throne and whacked the back of the Shogun’s armored calves. It wasn’t with enough force to even make Kai twitch, but it caught his attention.

Kai whipped his head around, all serious, until Dreadmaw turned her massive head away innocently and snorted out some sparks. Her emotions said it all.

“He’s fine,” Kai griped at her, scowl lines around his eyes. “It’s a blessing for boredom to be anyone’s biggest concern. Go do your job.”

Dreadmaw opened her mouth and groaned, warm air escaping her mouth, as if she were scoffing back at him. But the dragon obeyed, tensing her limbs, before pushing off of the float and spreading her wings. The float swayed slightly—some of the imperial guards below said “whoa!” and the noises of clanking armor shifting reached Lloyd over the cheers and chaos from the crowds below.

Well, Lloyd supposed Kai was right. At least Harumi wasn’t here with him. His father had suggested she join him in the parade and he had shouted the idea down until finally his father had relented. Lloyd would have ended up leaping off the float of his own accord, assuming Harumi didn’t push him first.

She hadn’t left him alone the entire day prior. She’d played up the caring fiancée, who loved him despite his unwillingness to marry her, all damn day. “But, Lloyd,” she’d cried. “I never asked for this, either. His Majesty made the decision.” As if she hadn’t planted the idea somehow. “…I didn’t argue because I thought we were friends.” No way. “Have you ever considered that he could have found someone that you had never even met before to betroth you to?” He was beginning to wish that had happened! “I was looking out for you!”

One thing was becoming abundantly clear to Lloyd: Harumi had never looked out for anyone but herself. Something had changed in her after her parents had died—the trauma of losing them both in one night much have been horrible. Harumi had, after all, only been a room down the hall from them when they’d died of the poison. But that was no excuse to be the way she was now. A power-hungry liar.

But maybe Lloyd could have forgiven her if she hadn’t hurt people he loved in her path to her goals.

Kai had recovered from the punishment quickly—he hadn’t even been standing weird for weeks. But…

Lloyd’s eyes flickered over all of the broadcasts showing off the screaming crowds. And, in some, silent crowds. He knew he wouldn’t find him, but attendance was mandatory for most in the regions they were passing through…so maybe…

He looked twice at every dark-haired boy, every bright smile, every group of teenagers, but he never once saw Brad. Maybe he hadn’t come. Maybe he was in the hospital with his mother. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to see Lloyd like this. The center of a pageant for imperial arms. How could Lloyd blame him?

“Which district are we in right now?”

“We just passed through Crowns.”

Lloyd perked up, then quickly settled. If he was going to catch a glimpse of his old friend, he would have seen him already. Something in Lloyd deflated. “Do you know how Brad’s doing?”

“…He’s fine. I told you I’d keep tabs on him. He got a new job at a local floral shop.”

“Oh…good. That’s good.”

Not like he would have been able to return to working at the palace. Lloyd wouldn’t want him around his father, anyway. He hoped Brad was living alright. Maybe one day, they’d meet again.

It just made Lloyd even more impatient to finish this entire display.

Lloyd huffed, feeling sweat trickle down his spine. “How many streets left?”

“Thirty-five,” Kai reported. “…and a half.”

Lloyd exclaimed, “Ugh! Can’t we go any faster? This is a waste. My father decreed hundreds of millions of people required to attend, and most of Shadowspire’s garrison, why is this taking so long? We’re taking so much time from people who could be doing better things!”

“Lloyd,” Kai rumbled disapprovingly. “Calm your demeanor. You still have eyes on you and you will for the rest of the day. This is what it means to be the Crown Prince. You want to help people, don’t you? Now, you can.”

“How is this show contributing to me helping—”

Kai held up a hand. Lloyd reluctantly pursed his lips together.

“You have the power to help people, now, with your new authority,” the Shogun rumbled. “The tradeoff is that you have to maintain your image. Image is more important than any of your ideals. This is how you gain respect and admiration—and those are what allow you to make the changes you want, not just the title handed to you. If you’re struggling, then think of all the people that depend on you to help and protect them. They need you. So keep it together.”

Lloyd opened his mouth, thought, then closed it to process the words. The prince nodded. His crown made the movement heavier than usual. The steel was beginning to dig through his artfully curled mane.

But Lloyd glued his teeth together and bared it. For his people.

Kai was swiftly distracted by communications within his helm, but Lloyd saw his friend giving him eyes of approval a few minutes later.

Any delight that brought him was quickly drowned out when Kai’s demeanor changed. Everything seemed to stay the same—lines of marching band music played, fireworks popped and boomed, dragons roared, the crowd cheered, people whistled, and the broadcasts announced and commentated on the parade. But Dreadmaw’s presence in Lloyd’s mind turned wary—a wariness that she gathered from Kai.

Lloyd glanced over—Kai’s eyes were locked onto a point on the street below them. He uncrossed his arms, adjusting his stance. They were little movements, but Lloyd knew his body language well enough to feel dread in his gut. He grabbed the arms of the wide throne, preparing to stand.

“We’re going through these scenarios in case anything goes wrong,” Kai had told him the day before, when Lloyd had sat in on the meeting among the parade officials to discuss emergency management. “But only because I’m paranoid and you’re a hot target for anyone with a grudge against the empire. The rebels are undermanned—we took most of their fighting force into custody. They were the only people who would dare attack a military demonstration, and now they don’t have the power.”

He must have been able to tell Lloyd had gotten nervous, listening to the officials list all of the horrible things that could happen. “So, nothing will happen, right?”

“Yeah,” Kai had smiled at him tiredly. “Nothing will happen.”

He felt Kai’s qi reaching out from him, but Kai was more practiced with Lloyd, so Lloyd could not stretch nearly as far or tell what he was searching for, but—qi was only good for seeking out other people imbued with qi. At least, for Lloyd, it was. Or maybe there was a fire Kai was trying to affect down—?

Lloyd was halfway to standing.

In the moment that Kai ripped his hand into the air, fingers curled and palm face-up, he dropped his emotional guard—Lloyd felt a bone-chilling panic.

BOOM!

The heat and force was instantaneous. Kai’s arm was wrapping around Lloyd’s waist and pinning him to his side, his outstretched hand swinging upwards. He felt Kai’s qi grab onto the explosion and redirect it upwards instead of outwards.

Lloyd’s brain was knocked around in his skull and the defeating noise turned the muffled crowd to mush in his ears. His vision blackened for a moment, violent disorientation knocking vomit up his throat.

Everything went numb aside from the crush of pressure against his body. His hands scrambled to grab onto whatever he could, finding the divots of Kai’s armor and clinging.

Weightlessness became him. He pressed his face into the solid metal, eyes squeezed shut, as if he would otherwise die. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe. He could feel his blood rushing from his head. He was going to pass out.

The thing that brought him back was the throbbing line around his head—the twisted steel crown had remained stubbornly cemented to his forehead. He felt ground beneath his feet—he stumbled, but he did not fall—still tightly wrapped by an arm. Shouting came into focus—then the screams. His fingers flexed around the armor, letting go for him to grab at the crown on his head—it banged the rhythm of his heartbeat around his skull. He tugged it from his head, gasping in pain, and the arm around him tightened.

He hugged the steel crown to his chest, the oppressiveness of his royal robes overwhelming—he could feel the train of it snagging on the ground, the tug of the long sleeves pinned under the Shogun’s grasp, the layers of collars around his neck.

The world was a dust cloud. They were on the street. Lloyd’s retinas ached with a dry burn as he blinked over and over, reflexive tears trying to help him see.

The Shogun was pointing. He was the one shouting in Lloyd’s ear, his vocoder booming across the space, waving his free arm with hard points and aggressive gestures. There were imperial guards all around them—Lloyd’s float was no longer hovering, rather crashed out behind them—half destroyed. If it had been a giant cake, someone had taken a sledge hammer to one side of it, and it had collapsed with as much ease as the tool would go through any baked good.

As Lloyd watched, it began to degrade further, pieces breaking off and falling into the street—it lay up against a building that it had collapsed into, cracks now throughout the walls of brick, broken windows, the infrastructure groaning.

And around the wreckage…bodies.

The explosion seemed to have originated at the mouth of an alley between two buildings—although Kai’s redirection had saved some of the buildings and kept the blast from reaching too far into the street, it had already begun in the center of a crowd behind a barricade.

Lloyd’s world slowed. His ears buzzed, the world still muffled. He dug his fingers into the tight grip the Shogun had on them and pried him off with strength he didn’t know he had. Kai paused in surprise, reaching for him, but Lloyd rushed away. Imperial guards surrounded them. Dreadmaw screamed a roar that echoed over the street—the other three dragons were thrashing around in their chains, General Shade with blood at the crown of his head, struggling to contain them.

Imperial guards who had been caught on the wrong side of the float now lay in broken heaps within their armor, as if they were piles of scrap metal. One soldier’s armor smoked, half of his skull-shaped helm dented violently inwards—blood splattered across his gaping mouth, one of his eyeballs exploded within his head. Their pikes were scattered across the ground.

A torn to shreds imperial truck sat in the center of a massacre. Distorted badges of military police mixed in with torn merchandise and smoking hand-held flags. Not twenty feet from Lloyd, a pair of legs lay. Nothing was attached to them. There were not even organs left to spill from them—the explosions had rendered it all to a slushie of reds and browns.

Piles of people lay screaming, groaning in pain, blood smeared over faces, stumps of hands being shaken in the air, sharp pieces of metal poking from people’s bodies.

Lloyd stepped forward in a daze. A wall of imperial guards blocked his view.

“Move,” Lloyd said. They did not. He shouted, “Move aside!”

They hesitated, and they followed the order, unlike they ever would have before that day. Their energy shields, buzzing with purple power, split for Lloyd.

He took a step. And one more step. Then, he could no longer move forward. It would have been impossible for Lloyd to walk without having to step over a body. He could not bare to do it.

The crown left his fingers.

A woman, sobbing on the ground before him, clutching at her stomach. Blood and grit covered her face from a split eyebrow, and her shirt was darkening with pooling red. “He–Help me—Help me! Please! I can’t–I can’t see!”

Lloyd dropped to his knees. His robes made his landing unpainful.

His hands shook over her. His voice cracked. “You’re—It’s okay, it’s okay. Don’t–Don’t move, I-I’m gonna help you.”

She cried and collapsed from her propped up position to laying on her back, hair splaying out. The piece of metal stuck straight into the air, like a grave marker. Lloyd scrambled to put pressure around it—she screamed, hands jumping up to squeeze his wrists tight.

Three imperial guards leaped in, grabbing the woman’s arms and prying her away from Lloyd in the same second she’d touched him. She sobbed again, panting fast, and Lloyd felt another guard grab at his arm, but Lloyd shoved the guard away.

“Don’t touch me!” He yelled at them, replacing his hands around her wound—pressure, pressure, pressure. Something wet was streaming down his cheeks. “Save her! Find someone to-to help her! Doctor! I need a doctor! Hey, I’m here, it’s okay, it’s okay.”

He used his own robes to fold around the metal and press hard. She wheezed in pain, her body getting too tired to continue screaming. “Hel–Help me. Some…one.”

Someone else screamed—Lloyd flinched. Only five feet away from him, what looked to be a eleven-year-old boy stood screaming at the top of his lungs, tears dripping down his face, with a gash in his throat dripping red, among a body of growing bruising and dirt. Lloyd froze—he needed to help him, too.

Another scream—a man holding a body with dead eyes and an arm gone at the elbow. A shell-shocked child sat next to him, legs crossed, staring at the dead body.

The street…it was carpet of corpses painted red, embroidered with a lace of burned flesh and imbedded shrapnel.

A hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled. This time, Lloyd did not have the strength to jerk away, try as he might.

“Let go!” He fought, shoving and swinging his elbows back. “Let go of me! LET GO! I have to save her!”

He was ignored. The Shogun manhandled him by the collar of his robes, dragging him away from the body of the woman. With him went the layers of robes that he’d been using to stop the bleeding. They dragged behind him, catching on chunks of rock and chunks of flesh. Kai just grabbed the fabrics and jerked them along, a ripping sound following.

General Skylor was there, in her helmet, and the Shogun only jerked his head toward the bodies. She nodded.

Dreadmaw was sitting before them, tense on her haunches, neck turning her head on a swivel quickly from one way to the other. She did not stop from surveying their surroundings protectively as she lowered her head toward them. On her back was the saddle they’d practiced their escape on the day prior.

“No!” Lloyd dug his heels in, trying to claw Kai’s hand open again, but to no avail. “No! We have to stay and help them! They’re-They’re dying!”

Kai didn’t bother saying anything as he hauled Lloyd up onto the neck of the dragon. Lloyd was forced to grab ahold of a warm dragon spike to not fall and crack his head open, but he kicked at Kai as the Shogun climbed up in front of him.

“No, I said!” Lloyd repeated angrily, getting louder and louder. “No! NO! Listen to me! I don’t want to leave! Do you hear me?”

“Yes, I do.” Kai grabbed Lloyd’s arms and pinned them around the armor’s waist to keep him into sitting position. Lloyd tried to shove himself off of Kai’s back, but to no avail.

“Then let me go!”

“…Not this time. Sorry, kid.”

Lloyd felt the signal from Kai for Dreadmaw to take off. He hoped that Lloyd’s loud and powerful objections would sway her to his side—but the intelligent beast didn’t seem to care what Lloyd wanted either. They launched from the street—only then did Lloyd realize how oppressive the smell of death had been. Like emptied bowels and open wounds and splattered hearts.

He stopped fighting once they got above the rooftops. The carnage below had cleared out the other nearby crowds—but the further they flew down the parade path, the more disconnected everyone became until…those a few blocks away were still celebrating. Cheering, with the marching bands playing, and the famous and incredible waving their hands, a troupe of trained panaphants following with an act. The mammals’ long, floppy ears flicked through the air.

Lloyd stared down at them in dumb shock. How could they not know? How could they keep celebrating, keep being happy, when just beyond them, a horrible thing had been done?

Kai let go of his arms. By themselves, they trembled.

Dry, painful tears burned Lloyd’s face. His bloody robes flapped behind him—his hands were sticky with it. It was just like that day in the throne room—he’d been just as useless with someone suffering right in front of him.

Despite himself, he tightened his grip around Kai in hug, trying to leech some pathetic form of comfort from his back. For the first time, it just made Lloyd feel worse.

The Shogun’s helmet tilted to the side. Not far enough for Lloyd to see his eyes, but enough to direct his voice. The wind whipped around them, but it felt like numb relief following the overstimulation Lloyd had been going through for hours.

“I’m sorry,” the Shogun rumbled. In his oppressive robotic tone, it sounded empty.

Lloyd pressed his forehead against the backplate so that even if Kai tried, he wouldn’t be able to look at him.

-

When they passed through the dark cloud over Shadowspire, Lloyd’s nausea began to return. His hands were already clammy, and he was already flashing between hot and cold—but from his previous experiences, he knew he would become ill soon. He shoved it down, ignoring it, hoping that would make it all go away, at least until the next day.

Kai didn’t bother landing them in the Keep, nor the front courtyard—they touched down in the palace gardens, Dreadmaw’s limbs crushing fragile vegetation that had been crafted with so much love. Black roses were flattened, and the intricately kept stone path was cracked.

A handful of palace servants were there to receive them, clearly aware of the situation that had gone down. And not only that.

In the shadow of the castle near the entrance of the gardens, Lloyd’s father stood. He still wore his ceremonial robes, his form towering over all, four of his arms crossed in displeasure. The train of his gunlongpao robes was decorated with the beautiful shape of a human skull, shining with the silvery lace. On either side of him, Chopov and Nuchal stood, servants giving them a wide berth to avoid the sharp edges of their axeblades.

Kai helped Lloyd down by lifting him up and over, holding his arm to steady him when Lloyd nearly fell. Lloyd made a face and tore his arm from Kai’s grip. Kai let him.

The physician was the first to reach them, his usually jovial face lined with grief. He did not care how his white medicinal robes were stained, nor how well his hat stayed on his head as he grabbed at Lloyd, ducking down and around him to look him over.

“Are you hurt, Your Highness? Do you know where you are?” The man shot out one question after the other, rolling Lloyd sleeves down and feeling along his arms. “Are you feeling any pain? This blood—”

“Not his,” the Shogun murmured.

Lloyd snatched his hands away from the physician, wiping the itch away from his face. “I’m not hurt, I’m fine—But there are people who need your help—”

Kai let go of Lloyd to jerk Doctor Eun-ji to the side. He’d done so just in time for the physician to avoid being trampled under the uncaring feet of Emperor Garmadon. Lloyd’s father reached him and Lloyd was pulled into a rib-crushing hug. Lloyd wheezed beneath the four arms, his father upper arms simply wrapping Lloyd’s head and pressing it to his father’s cool chest.

Doctor Eun-ji looked white in the face and exhaled in relief, fixing his hat upright as he thanked Kai. “You’ve become quite the damsel-rescuer, haven’t you?”

Kai released him, a certain wariness in his eyes as he watched the emperor.

Lloyd let himself close his eyes and wrap his arms around his father’s waist. The relief in the emperor was so obvious, Lloyd couldn’t help but feel safe in his embrace. When he began to wiggle to get free, his father let him go.

Only to run his hands through Lloyd’s hair and over his shoulders, of course, giving him a once-over to ensure he was alright. “My son, oh, my son. I thought I had lost you.”

His father gave him one more short hug, like he was assuring himself that Lloyd was real. His father stroked his thumbs over the crown of Lloyd’s forehead, the emperor’s skin whitening where it wrinkled on his dark face. His stark white goatee twitched as he grit his jaw, eyebrows low, red eyes searching.

“I’m okay,” Lloyd muttered, squeezing one of his father’s arms. “I’m alright, father. I wasn’t hurt. I wasn’t even near to being hurt, I swear to you.”

“I beg to differ,” his father growled, eyes raising to glare at Kai.

Kai bowed his head. Chopov and Nuchal had moved after Lloyd’s father, and they now stood on Kai’s either sides. They had done that often before—they stood that way when Kai called on them to complete a task, their wills his to control through the emperor’s orders. But it felt different as they did it, this time—as if Kai were a prisoner standing between them, rather than their commander.

The hair on the back of Lloyd’s neck stood up. His attention switched from his anger at Kai his father.

His father bared his sharp teeth at Dreadmaw, hissing in a dismissal.

Dreadmaw coiled up like an offended bird, growling, then barking a short roar at the emperor. But Dreadmaw’s head shifted toward Kai. After a moment, she obediently took off, spitting a short bit of lava vaguely towards Lloyd’s father.

It fell into the neatly trimmed blue grass, making the blue catch on fire like it was dry hay. It sunk away with a subtle movement from Kai’s hand.

His father’s arms pulled back, only for one to circle Lloyd’s shoulders and tug him away, guarding him. Even Lloyd could feel his palpable qi without being able to access his own—his father’s qi was cold and heavy, draping over Lloyd to stake it’s claim.

His father brought him back inside the palace walls.

Lloyd could not tell if it was his returning sickness or if the feeling in his gut was a growing, deep dread.

The first time his father had given him permission to be in the city, he’d been attacked. It must have been the rebellion—Kai had been wrong. Because of that, his father had been proved right. Lloyd in the city meant Lloyd in danger.

And his father would never accept him being in any kind of danger. No. Not his little boy.

Lloyd felt unsteady. But he knew what was coming.

“I never should have allowed this,” his father was already lecturing himself, hugging Lloyd close—Lloyd struggled to lift his robes to avoid tripping over them. “I knew the risk would be too great. You cannot defend yourself. You have too much of your mother in you—so much mortality. I am so sorry, my son. How could I have been so naive?”

“The risks are the same for me as they are for anyone else,” Lloyd tried to tell his father. The halls were empty of servants—the purple flames flickered large and their tongue were freezing cold. Goosebumps rose across his arms. “Father—I may not be like you, but this Realm is made for people like them. Like me! I am no more fragile than the billions of people who live in this world.”

“But you are worth more than all of them combined!” His father insisted. They reached the grand black doors—his father pushed them open with no effort, reaching over Lloyd’s head to do so. His red eyes burned into Lloyd. “You are not just a human, Lloyd. You are mine—my only child, my only star. I will not send you out there and let them take you from me. Humanity plays at morality—but they are just as selfish as my kind. Our only difference is that oni do not care to lie. The only way all of them survive in their disgusting world is by sinking to each others’ level. Like the girl I have betrothed you to. Like your mother. But you…you are too soft for their world.”

His father released him in front of his new throne. Lloyd’s had now grown to match the size of his father’s. It was the first Lloyd was seeing of it. His father gestured to it proudly, as if it were a gift his father had made just for him.

“I meant it as a coronation gift,” his father murmured to him. “I hope you are not disappointed that I’ve ruined the surprise.”

It was not only the size of his father’s. It was also made of human bone. The arms of the chair were created with the ulna and radial bones of a human forearm—the skeleton of a human hand wrapped the end of the arm.

Lloyd’s hands were still flaked with blood. The image of the eleven-year-old boy’s gushing throat flashed through his mind. The bodiless legs strewn across the ground. The smell of gore. The remains of Kai’s skin on his back like minced beef. Marla’s arm, handless and oozing.

The wrongness of Lloyd’s valley-sickness caught up to him.

He slapped a hand over his mouth to stop the vomit. He choked and gagged at the taste of it—his hot flashes were making him woozy. Without thinking, he reached out to steady himself, grabbing the armchair of his new throne. The bone had been bleached and sanded—it was smooth to the touch. He’d never found his father’s throne uncomfortable before. With the skulkin around, they were just another usual decoration for Lloyd. Until he’d seen the bones poking out of human skin. Living humans. Real people with real lives. Reduced to furniture.

His father…His father was evil. And yet, Lloyd had felt comforted by his embrace.

His father had turned away in time to miss Lloyd’s heave. “Now. You.”

Lloyd’s grip tightened on his throne when his legs got shaky with weakness. The sickness was coming down worse than before, like it always did.

Kai did not bow before the dais—because he couldn’t. Chopov and Nuchal each grabbed one of Kai’s arms, him not fighting against them. Chopov reached up at a silent command and tore the helm from Kai’s head. Kai grimaced, hair askew, but quickly smoothed his expression.

“Throughout your entire service under me, you have had one assignment that your life hinged on, commander,” the emperor growled, stepping between Lloyd and Kai, to the edge of the purple flames. “And this day, you have failed. You have grown distracted by your little people and your generals and all those in this world that do not matter. I can no longer trust your priorities.”

“Your Majesty, I ensured the prince was unharmed—”

“Do not speak!” Lloyd flinched at the shudder of the room, digging his fingers into his cheeks. Kai closed his mouth. “My son could have been killed today. He could have died. And where would that leave us?”

Kai looked about at a loss at the question as Lloyd felt. The commander quickly schooled his features again, eyes flickering toward Lloyd with concern. Lloyd glared at him, then glanced away.

Kai was infuriating him. But First Master, Lloyd wasn’t about to have a repeat of a month ago.

“He did not fail you, father,” Lloyd clenched his fist against the throne, pushing himself up. He clutched at his own bloodied robes. “He did chose me. He let people die today because he chose me. Didn’t help a single one. In fact, he might as well have killed them, for all the care he showed after they were murdered and dying right in front of us. If that’s what you’re looking for, I don’t think he’s ever failed you.”

Kai was excellent at keeping his composure. When Lloyd’s father had been whipping the life out of him, he’d barely winced. When he’d been called a monster, a pet, a slave to his face, he had never seemed to care. When the bodies had been dropping in front of him, his face had been stone focused.

But at Lloyd’s words, his expression broke, as if he’d received a punch to the gut. His lips parted, then closed, shame leaking into his poker face.

Kai’s lips pressed together, his eyes went vacant, and his gaze lowered.

“Did he, now?” the emperor hummed, tone darkly curious.

“Yes,” Lloyd muttered.

If he spoke too loud, he would be sick. Everything was too much.

His father laughed.

He laughed and laughed and Lloyd wanted to step away because it was the same horrible laugh he’d done that day. It wasn’t the chuckle he’d respond to Lloyd’s childish jokes with, nor was it the amused huff when Lloyd did something he considered to be silly.

It was like blades cutting through skin, a sound that had Lloyd’s instincts telling him to run despite it being his own father.

The skulkin released Kai. He nearly stumbled, something Lloyd had never seen him do. Lloyd’s concern bled through his anger. Kai did not so much as glance up at them. Nor did he bow. He just…stood.

“Oh, you are right, aren’t you, my son? Perhaps he deserves to continue his duties yet,” his father clapped Lloyd’s shoulder, as if anything about this were funny. His father’s grin was full of predator teeth. “What did I tell you? Every human is a monster inside, just like me. Even them. I cannot wait to show you to Wu when the day comes for our reunion, commander. I am sure he will be pleased with my work. You have spared your life yet again. Now, go. I will punish you for your mistakes later. Leave my sight.”

When Kai did not make a move in response, the skulkin did. They grabbed his arms again, as if he were not the Grand Commander of the Empire, and pulled him from the room. Kai kept his feet under him, preserving his dignity, but there was nobody home behind his eyes.

What was going on? Had he been concussed in the explosion? Had he been so busy protecting Lloyd?

What Lloyd had said wasn’t true. Kai hadn’t needed to redirect the explosion to keep Lloyd safe. He’d done that to protect as many civilians on the streets as he could. If he’d only cared about Lloyd, he would have called Dreadmaw to take them away from the top of the float—but he’d gone to the ground to coordinate military efforts in the immediate aftermath rather than leaving it to General Skylor. And there had been no fires on the street—Kai must have put them all out.

The only crime that Kai had committed in Lloyd’s mind…was ignoring his choice. Which Lloyd was upset about, but…

“Lloyd,” his father rumbled in the now-empty room, sitting heavily on his throne. “You will not leave Shadowspire again.”

The statement had Lloyd clutching his stomach. But he’d learned better in the last few days than to argue with him, no matter how upset Lloyd grew.

Quietly, he asked, “May I be excused?”

His father reached out for him. Lloyd hesitated, but stepped close enough for his father to draw him in by the arm. The large hand cupped the back of his head and brought Lloyd’s face down to his father’s. His father’s breath smelled like what Lloyd imagined the vacuum of space to smell like—pure and frigid.

His father kissed Lloyd gently on the crown of his head. It fell on the ache left by his lost crown. Lloyd subtly winced.

“I love you, Lloyd,” his father said, releasing him. “Of course, you may be. Go rest. I will tell the chamberlain and the Shogun to not bother you today. The dinner party has already been canceled—it will just be me, you, and your betrothed.”

That sounds like an actual nightmare. Lloyd was sure he was green beneath his makeup. He just bowed his head and left the room.

Servants peaked out of doorways warily—others walked the carpeted halls quietly. Lloyd didn’t want to know what his father had done when he’d heard of the attempt on Lloyd’s life. Because there was nothing else that incident could have been. Which meant that all those people had suffered and died because of him.

It wasn’t Kai’s fault. How could Lloyd have blamed him like that? He was frustrated, sure, but…he had almost convinced himself his father and Kai were the same. Almost. Then his father had built him a throne.

Would Brad’s remains have been included if he had stayed at the palace? Jenn, Lloyd’s dressing servant, if she’d done his hair in a way that displeased the emperor? The Lord Chamberlain, if he were to ever anger Lloyd’s father enough? He’d been ready to kill Kai. Kai, of all people. How did life mean so little to him? How, when he cared about Lloyd so much? It was like there were two different people walking around in one monstrous body.

Lloyd had to stop in the middle of the hallway and cover his mouth again. He was becoming woozy. He was so used to having an escort around the palace—but when he stumbled, he had to catch himself on a nearby doorway, no one around to steady him. He was going to be sick on the carpet, his body shivering with such a sudden fever. Where were all the guards?