Chapter Text
He didn’t realize how hard it was to participate in a simple conversation when his brain was doing somersaults in his head, and his eyes felt just shy of exploding until now. He wasn’t exaggerating.
It’s not as if he tried to be rude, the losers just kept babbling on and on and he was starting to get annoyed when the words stopped sounding like words and more like gibberish. The only thing he could’ve done at that moment was zone out and stare at the digital clock on the microwave, because if he couldn’t understand them what was the point in listening?
He felt absolutely fine a moment ago, peachy in front of a bowl of soup, water, and two annoying but tolerable ninjas. But after a while, he noticed the edges of his vision became splotchy with black, and his dormant headache became an infuriating pain at the front of his head. And then his brain got fuzzy with information.
He knew they were still talking about him and his past, with Lloyd filling in the blank spaces where he conveniently forgot stuff or left details out. Now, it sounded like Lloyd was talking for him. It irked him to know that someone knew so much of his life, down to all the gritty details he hardly even remembered. He had been continuously prompted to talk about certain things, sometimes going down right into all the little details of his life, being asked to elaborate, maybe guess how he could’ve ended up like ‘how he did’. Messed up beyond recognition was left unsaid.
The conversation weaved in and out of his life to the point where he couldn’t even get by without spelling out the most basic things. Lloyd already knew though, he just wanted to keep the story straight for his rock buddy. He wanted to be pissed off, but he couldn’t find it in him to bother anymore, not when he felt as if he was being cooked alive and frosted over at the same time. An odd combination of sensations, is that a normal human thing?
He felt like a child, sitting there sulking and glaring. He wasn’t trying to be childish, but he felt too warm and itchy in the hoodie he’d been wearing for however long, and its obnoxious purple colour was making his eyes sore. His lips and throat felt dry, but swallowing made his throat scratchy. He wanted to punch something, anything if it took his attention off his pathetic body.
He couldn’t recall when he began just slipping in and out, and hardly even knew his brain was trying to shut itself down, begging for a break. He swore he felt furrowed brows and concerned eyes boring through his skull. It was pity with a pretty little red bow, and he wanted to break someone’s nose.
He picked at the remainder of his soup, finding the thing more unappetizing than anything. He wasn’t sure how he had ever managed to eat it before, but after fifty years and his fair share of not needing food, it just looked like what it was; chunks of food floating in an ambiguous liquid. Coming to this realization made him feel bittersweet because Lloyd was right before, he did like chicken noodle soup.
The first meal Sensei Wu had ever given him. It was hastily thrown together, but Morro didn’t care. He couldn’t, not when it was the most filling thing he’d had in almost a week. He learned to be grateful for what he could get, and when he received this bowl that contained both vegetables and meat with actual nutrition, it was like being bestowed by the heavens. He knew he had changed—god he’d be stupid if he didn’t acknowledge that fact, but didn’t know it was down to the extent that he could hardly even stomach his former favourite soup. The thought made him sick, and suddenly he felt dizzy.
He dropped the spoon in his hands. He wasn’t sure how and didn’t remember dropping it, but he heard the telltale thump of metal on the wooden ground and knew his hands had failed him. Cole stopped talking, or at least that’s what he picked up. An idle sound in the background just trailed off and ceased altogether, so he assumed it was one of them, and Lloyd’s voice was much easier to distinguish compared to Rocky's. Higher pitched, whinier, and more annoying. It was like comparing an idle microwave hum to a donkey getting beat up by an accordion.
A new spoon appeared in front of his face, he stared at the shiny surface of its metal, seeing his blown and ragged reflection in it. He looked like shit. Face bearing too many marks and faded bruises for comfort. But his face staring back at him was soon ripped away and placed beside his bowl. He just stared at it in confusion, not understanding what was going on at the moment. Disoriented, for lack of better words.
He watched as a new object moved into his line of sight, a rough-looking hand. It looked rather large, covering the top of his bowl, and he briefly wondered if the strength it bore had enough force to kill him. And then the fingers moved to snap. Once, then twice before it pulled his head out of the clouds.
“Huh?”
“I said, are you done eating?” Cole—that was Cole, right? His voice was starting to sound addled. He said that with a questioning tone, something on the edge of suspicion.
“Huh?”
“You didn’t take the spoon,”
He sounded slightly upset, and so he really should’ve coughed up a decent answer.
“Huh?” And yet, that was all he could muster.
Both of the ninjas recoiled slightly, even more so when Morro showed no indication or intention of even replying to Cole’s question. He had no idea what to do, so he just kept his eyes on the blurred sight of the stove’s digital clock. Wait, was it always blurred like that?
“...Does he look pale to you?” That was definitely Lloyd.
“He’s always been a little pasty hasn’t he?”
“Or do we think that because he’s always been sick?”
“We think that’s because he’s always been a ghost ,”
He scowled, knowing that they were just blatantly speculating about him when he was sitting right there, but even if he had anything to say, he wasn’t sure if he was even able to say it. His life would be so much easier if the little numbers on the clock stopped moving, or looked like more than a dumb little red blob of light.
He gave up with a sigh, settling with the thought that they were practically done anyway. He picked up the spoon left by Cole earlier, deciding to push through the wave of nausea to finish the remaining soup. As much as he wanted not to, he almost felt inclined to, repulsed by the idea that he changed so much he wasn’t able to even eat chicken noodle soup.
And he never regretted something so much. Something sat wrong, the taste repulsive on his tongue, and he knew before he brought the spoon to his mouth that he would’ve thrown up. What made him do it anyway? Who the hell knows.
He tried stifling his retching, a hand slapping against his mouth to prevent himself from upchucking right then and there. All utensils were immediately dropped and the sound of stools scraping on wooden floors let him know his unsubtle misery was not unnoticed.
“Cole...!” He heard Lloyd seeth as a hand grabbed his shoulder and directed his body until he was facing a trash bin. He didn’t know why he let himself be moved so easily, or where the bin came from, but a moment later he felt as if his entire body was caving in on itself and turning inside out, and he was grateful it was there.
He choked on a gasp of air, a sour taste in his mouth as his sight went black, and soon he felt dampness in the corners of his eyes. He registered a hand patting his back as he struggled to breathe through the burn in the back of his throat, gentle and slow, and he felt the need to fight it.
His fists made contact somewhere, he couldn’t tell where since his eyes were still hazy and his head was somewhere on a different plane, but he was overtaken when coughs started to wrack his system. He probably hacked up a lung before it hurt too badly to keep coughing, and that’s when he finally stopped.
He had thrown up before. It was unbearable when he was a kid, the consequences of eating food without knowing where it came from, and he hated that after throwing up he would need more food eventually. It was a game of luck, essentially. Eat food and see if it attacks you from the inside, in which you’d need to gamble again and see if the next meal will make you nauseous too.
Everything that had ever happened to him was a tumble of luck. How was it possible someone could be both unlucky and undeserving?
The glass of water he had was placed in front of his face. He ignored the person who offered it and chose to be thankful he at least had the strength to grab it, keeping a vice grip until his knuckles turned white. He didn’t drink it, he only stared at it, as if it held something he needed. It probably did, and he’d be wise to take a sip to wash out the acidic taste lingering in his mouth. The glass shook in his hands, the water inside mocking him as it jumped around.
He’s so weak.
“Morro.” Lloyd sounded dead serious.
He looked up. He isn’t weak, and he won’t act like it.
“You’re sick.”
And he rolled his eyes. Way to make a guy feel good after throwing up.
“No, I mean you’re running something close to a fever,” Lloyd said, placing the back of his fingers gently on his forehead. The contact burned, his hot skin against Lloyd’s cold fingers. He slapped the offending hand away slower than he wanted to admit.
“So—” He had to pause to clear his throat, coughing raw and painful. “So what?”
“...What do you mean ‘so what’? Do you realize how dangerous a fever could be for someone like you?” Cole butted in. The post-clarity of throwing up made that statement feel deeper than what it probably was supposed to mean. Maybe his disorientation earlier was just his body trying to eject whatever it had eaten. But what he processed was that Cole said he had an illness, and Morro heard that he was messed up again.
“But that shouldn’t interfere with me leaving, right?” He didn’t care if they left him on the brink of collapsing or if he’d be dead the next day. If he dies, he’d rather die alone. Far from the hands of any Ninja.
Cole stared at him incredulously. “Think real hard about what you just said—what you keep thinking and saying. Do you genuinely think of us as monsters or are you joking?”
“...”
“Morro, no matter what you think of us, we have morals. No matter how much I want to kill you, or how badly you piss us off, we’re Ninja. And we’d never do anything you think we would. If you think that, maybe that just proves you’re nothing like us.” Lloyd cut in. He wasn’t even looking at him while he spoke, distracted by rummaging through cabinets and drawers, but it felt as if he was. His tone of voice washed over him as if he was mocking him.
His hands shook with newfound fervor as he could do nothing but sit there and wish he’d pass out. Rendered speechless, the two took advantage of his silence to roughly grab his arms and whisk him away somewhere. He felt limp, no longer paying attention, eyes unfocused as the same phrase rang in his head.
‘You’re nothing like us.’
He knew he was nothing like them. Nothing like the Green Ninja. He’s sat with that knowledge for god knows how long, his head’s rotted with the thought. He’s repeated the mantra in his head constantly, he’s nothing like them. Nothing like those gross do-gooders with their disgusting masks and stupid green ringleader. He’d die if he was anything like them. So why did that one statement have such a grip on his heart? Why did his breath run thin?
He’d long accepted he was never going to be the Green Ninja. He’s fought for it for so long, only giving up because he lost everything. But he never knew why he didn’t bear that title. And now, he sees that the answer was so obvious right in front of his eyes. He’s nothing like the Green Ninja.
All this time he’s spent looking for answers, giving blood, sweat, and tears, and pulling himself apart just to realize in the form of an offhand comment that he’s not the Green Ninja because he’s himself. He’s Morro. His heart is charred black and he cries ashes. He was born nothing and he died nothing.
That was Cloud Kingdom's Plan for him. He was a joke, a test run, a dumb little experiment to see how far they could push their luck. He’s a guinea pig.
He was numb as they led him to a different room, somewhere farther in the Bounty. He couldn’t tell where or what exactly he was in, it looked kind of like a lounge, but it was sure an upgrade from his closet. They set him down on a plush and comfy surface, his head against something oh-so soft and sleepable. He was out in seconds.
———
Cole knew exactly where things had gone wrong.
They were making such a breakthrough with Morro. He was eating, talking, being somewhat civil, and mildly (kind of) cooperating. He was ecstatic when they finally got what they needed, and he was right to remove the rest of the team from the equation, but he overlooked something else.
Cole had somewhat of a rough life, but at least he had food, water, and a roof over his head. He was as healthy as he could be, and when he turned into a ghost, his body was trapped in fantastic condition. Sure, he struggled when he was human again, but he had it as good as possible since his immune system already had everything it needed to fight for itself.
Morro, however, was everything Cole wasn’t. He was trapped with the immune system of a critically diseased elderly person, and the body of an underdeveloped child. Of course, it’d catch up to him eventually, he just didn’t foresee it because it wasn’t a factor in the equation he had to deal with.
He felt so dumb when he finally realized this, and even dumber when he was standing in front of the rest of the ninja, their bottom halves soaked with water, but their faces furious.
“Cole, I calculate approximately 559 ways you could have resolved this. You threw a toolbox off the Bounty—”
“—Watched us all go down to find it and then piloted the Bounty away without us?” Jay cut in, shivering as Nya worked on absorbing the water off of him.
“—Well, when you put it like that…” Cole tried soothing the situation he dug himself into. Clearly, it wasn’t working as well as he hoped it would when he envisioned the plan.
“Dude, you left us behind in the middle of nowhere just to talk to some freaky ghost?” Kai shouted angrily—rightfully, too. He knew Kai would be the most upset, and he honestly felt bad that he lied to him. He rubbed the back of his neck and tried diffusing the argument.
“I’m sorry! But I knew you guys wouldn’t like it… And I was right too, he talked so much more with just me and Lloyd compared to when we had everyone. It’s not like it was useless either. I got so many answers.”
“You got answers and also left us in a rice field. We can’t chase you guys with Airjitsu!”
“I know that!”
“What? That’s so not cool dude. You knew and still did it,”
“It was hardly more than an hour and a half, you’ll live…!”
“That’s—That’s not the point!”
Nya finally managed to wring the rest of the water off of Jay’s uniform and body, the liquid floating in an orb above her hands as she moved on to working with Kai, sending a glare to Cole, who shrunk under the weight of it. “This is ridiculous. Cole. Talk to us next time you have a plan. No matter how much you think we’ll object.”
He opened his mouth to protest, any words dying on his tongue as Nya swiftly interjected. “That goes for everything and everyone . Clear?”
“Fine,” Kai scoffed. “This information better be groundbreaking for the time I spent outside.
———
Groundbreaking, maybe. But he also didn’t account for considering how much information he could disclose while keeping the integrity of Morro’s trust. You know, so that he trusts them enough to be secure in the fact that they'll let him go eventually.
“What do you want to know?”
He watched Morro scarf down his soup. He had looked cautious before, but it seemed hunger had gotten to him. It made sense, the guy hadn’t eaten in nearly four days, an unhealthy amount of time to go without food. He felt awful keeping Morro trapped in a closet, starving him of sunlight. He didn’t know how much longer they would’ve left him in there had he not stepped in when he did. Somehow, he didn’t think the rest of the team considered this.
But what’s done is done, and the good news is that Morro won’t be dying anytime soon. He sorted through questions in his mind, trying to focus on their main objective while also setting up a timeline of subjects he wanted to go through before they hid Morro away. Knowing that this would likely be the only time he’d be able to talk to Morro in depth, he didn’t want to leave anything unanswered.
His job was just that. Lloyd’s was to act as somewhat of a neutralizer. The connecting bridge between them to maintain a controlled environment. Morro didn’t know Cole, but he knew Lloyd, and that would hopefully be enough to keep him in a calmer state. He was also here to ensure that Morro didn’t lie.
Truth be told, he could’ve just sat Lloyd down over coffee and they could’ve talked all about Morro’s brain and what he held. That was possible, and it’d be technically accurate. But Lloyd couldn’t access the ‘whys’, the complex thoughts and emotions behind his actions. He could view memories as how Morro remembered them, and from there analyze his actions and expressed emotions to deduce how he felt to estimate an explanation. But he couldn’t be sure. They knew the presented facts, but not the reasons why. For someone as emotionally in tune as Lloyd, sometimes even he needed further confirmation.
He would’ve liked to go by the facts, because no matter the justification, what’s done is done. Morro made bad choices, and nothing will ever return life to Stiix, or replenish the beauty that once existed. There’s nothing that could’ve been said to mitigate the fact that Stiix is forever tarnished.
And yet, from what Lloyd told him, Morro was scared. From the minute Morro held Lloyd with a sword to the neck, he was scared. His head clouded over and blocked out sensory input, to which Lloyd said Morro had to ‘force himself to stay in the moment’.
When Lloyd relayed to him what he saw, Cole initially said, ‘Nah’. In his defense, how could a ghost pass out? Is passing out not related to depleted blood flow into the brain or something? How could something that doesn’t have cause him to pass out? Cole brushed the idea away and settled with calling it nerves.
“I feel like there’s more to it though. That kind of fear was more than one dimensional—I don’t know, I just think it’d be beneficial to talk to him and get everything out of the way.”
So that’s how Cole’s colourful plan came into existence. While it wasn’t his smartest ever plan, and it definitely wasn’t the most thought out, it sure as hell did the job.
He didn’t want to scare Morro, first and foremost, but he also couldn’t force him to talk. He’d seen it happen before, and while he was nothing like Kai, he’d rather not risk it when they were down numbers. He needed to be careful to nurse a calm atmosphere, as comfortable and welcoming as it could be given circumstances.
“How’d you die?”
Morro glared at him when he said this. His face hardened from his half-calm state into something that resembled anger. Fair enough, this was a sensitive topic. And also a bit out of the comfortable and welcoming territory.
“What do you mean how’d I die? I burned to death all alone in a cave, that’s how,” Morro sneered, fixing his eyes on the soup he suddenly found so interesting.
“I mean, what led up to it?” Cole elaborated.
“Like—what? I wanted to be the Green Ninja, and I wasted my life working towards a false hope. What else is there to say?” Morro genuinely looked confused, if a little enraged. “I know that old man blabbed all about me, that moron talks too much for someone his age.” He continued, scooping more soup into his mouth. His face looked pinched.
“We know what happened on his end, but we don’t know how you saw things. So, what happened after you left?” Cole decided it’d be easier if he just spelled things out. He wanted to leave questions a little more open-ended to prompt Morro into going into detail of his own volition, but clearly, he didn’t understand basic questions. Or, he happened to be skilled in constructive talks with the opposition.
“I packed a bag, went on a fun hike, and died.”
He sighed. “Morro, we can always just not let you leave. We’re giving you a ticket to freedom in exchange for a talk and some answers. You don’t need to trust us beyond the fact that we’ll let you go afterward, but we can ensure that you don’t leave if you don’t keep up your end of the bargain.”
Morro rolled his eyes, looking incredibly annoyed. “Fine, talk, whatever.”
“I’ll be more specific then. What did you do to end up in the Cursed Realm after you died?”
The boy paused, hesitating to give an acceptable answer. “I guess…I hurt a lot of people.”
He waited for a response, but since he wasn’t going to get one, and he also wanted to earn his right to leave, he kept talking. “I wasn’t like how I am right now. I was thinking I was practically made to be the best, and I wanted to be the strongest.”
“...”
“So…I pushed aside anyone in my way. I was stronger than everyone else with my powers, and I was sick of assholes looking down on me for being small.”
His sharp eyes boring into Cole’s punctuated what he said at the end, but just as quickly had his gaze been pointed towards him, it was gone. Cole shivered when his eyes left him, the air suddenly colder around him.
“So what? The people who used to shove me around had it coming. They’re lucky I even left them alive.” he chewed on his words as they left his mouth, spoon now forgotten as his soup was cast aside.
Lloyd nodded as Morro spoke, confirming that what he said was the truth, though it was clear Morro still hadn’t said everything there was to say. He didn’t know how he felt about him admitting that he had injured people, fatally enough to consider them ‘lucky to be alive’. It sounded oddly like what he had heard about Morro and that boy from the home store. He didn’t get the full story, but from what his friends testified along with other witnesses and security footage, Morro had lashed out after being provoked.
That boy had escaped with a concussion and stitches, and now Cole could only think that he was lucky he hadn’t left with any broken bones.
“Do you think you’re right?”
Cole darted his eyes to Lloyd sitting beside him, appalled that he had even asked him that.
Morro laughed, something sounding eerie and hollow. Creepy. “Right? Who cares if I’m right? No one’s ever right about anything, there’s always someone out there that’s against you. I don’t care if the entire world’s against me,” he paused, dissolving any kind of balance they had. “I’ll hurt anyone who opposes me.”
That’s…ominous.
He did expect such a mindset from the old Morro, but knowing his loyalties were conflicted and that he was undergoing a crisis regarding who he was meant to be, he genuinely didn’t expect him to say that. Especially since he’s saying that in front of two Ninja, who happen to be very apparent challenges in his way.
Was it naive of him to hope he’d somewhat changed? Or had thought he did? For all he knew, the old Morro wouldn’t be sitting with them having soup and talking about himself. The old Morro would’ve blown his head off and left him to rot, he was sure of that.
“...And that’s all you did? Hurt people?” Cole prompted him, noticing how Morro had balled his fists up defensively.
“No. I stole stuff, damaged property, fraternized with criminals, racked up a bounty over my head, and then I hurt people. I also committed blasphemy against the First Spinwhatsu Master, but that might be a different topic.”
Fantastic. And Lloyd had confirmed all of that with a rigid nod, without any other notion that might suggest he did anything else. Morro was sent to the Cursed Realm for aggressive violence and being a criminal. Somehow, he found relief in the fact that he wasn’t sent down there for murder or anything else heinous.
“All of that just for the Green Ninja?” Lloyd inquired, his hands wrung in his lap tightly. He could see the beginning of energy starting to crackle, slightly on edge in case Morro lashed out. He’d calmed down since earlier, but a part of him was justifiably worried.
“I was a dumb kid and wanted to prove myself, at any cost necessary. That included my own life” Morro sighed deeply, almost regretting that he was talking. “I don’t think the Green Ninja was a thing for me, I only saw the power behind it and wanted it.”
Now that was something they could work with. Of course, he’d be after power. The Green Ninja was hardly any different from the Black or Red Ninja, it’s the power behind the name that makes Lloyd so different from Jay or Zane.
“Was training something you wanted, then?”
Morro pondered for a moment, his dull eyes staring off into the background as he juggled his words. “I—I guess not? Maybe? The old man never gave me a chance back then, he saw my powers and just shoved me into serious training.”
“...”
He grumbled a bit, but continued, annoyance dripping heavily in his tone. “He told me that if I trained, I could be the Green Ninja, and explained to me how powerful and oh-so wonderful that guy would be. I would’ve killed myself if he asked me to, and then he just goes and tells me after years that I would never be the Green Ninja, the only reason I ever trained in the first place.”
“Excuse me if I lost faith in training, but I wouldn’t have ever considered training formally and seriously if I hadn’t had something dangled in my face.”
That was a good piece of information, probably. Morro didn’t want to be a Ninja for the sake of being a Ninja, and also basically confirmed that he saw the implications of what he could do instead of what he was supposed to. So skewed intentions were what they were working with. Though there was a good chance Sensei Wu might’ve had some bad blood in him, in all honesty, Morro could be a biased guy.
“What did your powers mean to you then? If the Green Ninja was what gave you power, what significance did they hold?”
“My powers were like—” Cole didn’t miss how Morro’s hand instinctively went towards the Vengestone cuff they’d placed on him. His rough fingers scratched at the plating. “—Er, I had great control as a kid, and as I got older I kept getting better. So they were the start of me wanting to get back at everyone else. If I had this power that no one else had, a lowly street kid like me, didn’t that mean I was better than everyone else who looked down on me?”
Oh, so an inferiority complex that evolved to superiority, he should’ve known.
“You spent what you remember of your childhood on the streets, right? Alone?”
“...Yes.”
“What do you remember? Anything about your name, parents, who you could’ve inherited your powers from?”
“Nothing,” Morro answered, straightforward and a little too fast.
“You’re lying,” Lloyd interjected. The two locked eyes, Morro defensively squaring his shoulders and gritting his teeth.
“Lying about what?” Morro challenged, baring his teeth like a feral animal. It looked disgusting on his mangled face.
“You know your last name. I let it go last time because I felt bad for you, but now I’m not as inclined. So what’s your last name, Morro?”
Cole had to manually lock his jaw to prevent it from dropping in shock. A name was a guarded and personal piece of identity, maybe it’d make sense that Morro was so private against it. But what was so significant about it that he felt the need to lie about it twice?
“My last name is dead to me. My only name is Morro. I don’t hold any connection to my parents, I’ve burned all my bridges with them. Does that answer your dumb question?” Morro sneered.
“What’s so bad about your parents?”
“What do you mean? You gloat on me all the time about being alone and weak, but where do you think that came from?” Morro started getting defensive, both with words and stance. Lloyd rose to his feet, hands holding a vice grip on the counter as Morro continued talking.
“My mom only had me to pass her powers down, and for all I know she’s dead now. I’m the son of a mother who didn’t want me and a man who doesn’t even know I exist. And I only know this because my mom gave me to some villager who later left me because he was scared that when I awakened my powers, I’d hurt him.”
The two were standing face to face by now. Lloyd didn’t look like he was about to fight though, more like he was trying to intimidate Morro into sitting back down. He didn’t miss how Morro swayed on his feet, his eyes unfocused.
“Calm down, Morro. We’re only talking.” Lloyd held his hands up, completely devoid of any power crackling in his fingers. Morro eyed his hands, the underlying threat they held, but ultimately sat down. His posture remained ramrod straight, thrumming with pent-up anger.
Lloyd sat down as well, motioning for Cole to continue. So he did, although a lot more tense than he was a moment ago.
“Um…Let’s move on from the past then. Why’d you help us defeat Yang?”
This part was particularly iffy. With Lloyd not being able to see what went through Morro’s head during this period, they were relying solely on body language and instinct to detect truth from lies.
“I dunno, felt like it.”
Plausible, reasonable, but maybe not enough substance. “You wanna elaborate?”
“No.”
Okay, great. Fantastic. He loves his life. “Morro…” He warned lowly.
Morro scoffed a laugh in his face. “Are you annoyed? Got what you need from me yet?”
He also didn’t miss how Morro’s words were slurred together as if his tongue was getting tired and words were a burden.
“Yeah, you’re annoying. Want a medal? That’s cool, I want to talk normally. So why’d you help us defeat Yang?”
“I don’t know, I felt like I owed the old man something. Didn’t he tell you how I gave him the Realm Crystal before dying?”
No, Sensei Wu sure did not mention that. What?
“You willingly gave him the crystal?”
Morro ignored what he said. “I only helped you guys because he wanted to save me or something that day. I felt bad that he invested the time in me only for me to betray everything he taught me, so why not let him know I wasn’t a total failure? It was all out of pity for him.”
That worked better than the other answer he gave, he supposed. So Morro had both an inferiority complex and a superiority complex, no family past his dead mother and deadbeat father, is/was power hungry, didn’t want to be a Ninja in the first place, found no significance in being the Green Ninja past the power it implied, and had one hell of an annoying mouth on him. And mild to moderate anger issues. And a possible past criminal record along with a pretty nice record of violence. Average in terms of Ninjago Villainy.
“Do you regret the actions you took?”
“What, do I regret what I did to destroy Stiix?” Morro clarified for himself, though he didn’t receive a confirmation of yes or no, so he just answered based on what he thought.
“I dedicated years of my ghost life serving the Preeminent. I lived by her word and pledged my service to her, only to find out I was hardly even a pawn to her. I don’t regret my actions for the sake of you guys, I regret my actions because I devoted myself to the wrong leader.”
While Morro spoke a lot, Cole couldn’t tell whether or not he responded to the question. It sounded like he regretted what he did, but only because it was the Preeminent that ordered him, rather than the fact that the Stiix incident traumatized an unfathomable amount of people. Was that a bad or good sign?
“So, led under a more fair ruler, you’d have done it all over again?”
Morro paused, lips parted as if he had an immediate answer ready to go and the words just died on his tongue. He clamped his mouth shut after a moment and then opened it again. He looked conflicted, not sure what to say. Cole and Lloyd glanced at each other, not quite sure what Morro was communicating. The boy darted his eyes to the background again, before finally producing an answer.
“Yes.”
“You’re lying.” Lloyd quickly cut in. Cole didn’t question why he was so sure, but he knew Lloyd was right when Morro’s eyes darkened and his glower intensified.
“What do you know about it?” Morro challenged.
“You’re stiff, you’re avoiding eye contact and your ears are red. You wouldn’t do it again and I don’t get why you’re still lying to us.”
“I’m not lying.”
“You’re lying. Look me in the eyes and tell me you’d do it all again without regrets.”
Morro met Lloyd’s burning eyes, seeing the way they almost reflected green as his irises flashed. “I’d do it all again without regrets.”
“Would you have killed me for the Realm Crystal in the Tomb of the First Spinjitzu Master?”
“I would’ve,” But Morro’s eyes darted away, panicked as he quickly met Lloyd’s eyes again.
“Say it again.”
“I would’ve—I would’ve killed you for the Realm Crystal.” Morro faltered, he stuttered, and even Cole knew he was lying. And Cole was starting to get it, Morro was truly scared back then.
“Why were you scared to kill me?”
“I—”
“Why are you making this difficult, Morro?”
Morro didn’t talk for a moment, looking lost. And Lloyd decided to jump in with what he had analyzed.
“You were scared because of me. You were scared because I was what you worked towards being, and seeing me—tired and beaten up—made you feel deceived because of how weak I was. You saw the Green Ninja powerless and defeated, and you realized that you devoted your life until your death to something so meaningless. You were scared that I’d die because the Green Ninja is supposed to be strong.”
“You wouldn’t have killed me for the Realm Crystal. You wouldn’t have done any of it again, you only did it in the first place because you were looking for power. Well, I’ll give you something even more valuable than power; freedom, only if you are honest.”
He couldn’t even tell if Morro was even looking at them anymore, his eyes properly unfocused and unseeing, back slumped with his shoulders hiked to his ears. He looked tired but still contemplating.
“Why are you here right now?”
Lloyd sounded terribly serious, Cole almost wished he’d never have to hear that tone of voice again if it meant a situation like this. It’s hard to remember mentally he’s still so young.
“I woke up in the hospital like this. Alive and human, I don't know how or why.”
And somehow, he believed that.