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“COLE!”
He doesn’t jump off the deck after him. He’s stunned, wide-eyed and scared.
He doesn’t demand to turn back or take command of the ship to go save him. He can’t – he can’t even speak at first.
He doesn’t even freeze. That would be too understandable, too excusable.
No.
Instead, he ensures that Cole is left behind forever.
He watches himself pry Kai’s hands off of the helm. He hears himself say, “Cole’s gone,” like he’s reporting the weather. He watches as the Ninjago City skyline, obscured by smoke, shrinks in the distance.
He watches.
And he does nothing.
But he can’t do nothing forever, because the world still needs him, and Oni don’t sleep. Luckily, he doesn’t need to.
It lets him set to work, keeps him busy. Kai may have his hands full with the forge, but the few people they did rescue need to be relocated. People across the continent need to be warned and evacuated. Logistics and planning need to be taken care of.
And he’s always been good at logic.
It’s why he can rationalize the 24-hour beacon he keyed into Cole’s frequency. Even if…should anyone find his comm, they would be guided to the monastery. To help. Cole would rest easy knowing he helped save even one more soul.
It’s how he can continue to work without Jay or Nya’s assistance. Nya blames herself – and if Zane is honest, he does too. Jay keeps trying to convince her that she didn’t cause this, but he’s lying. She knows it. He knows it.
Zane knows it.
A vindictive side of him is glad she feels so guilty. It comes in ugly flashes, late at night when he and the beacon are the only ones awake.
What comes after is worse.
Guilt for wanting to hate Nya. Shame. And then…an ache. It stabs him, deep in his being.
He knows grief. He knows death. His father taught him that well, and he’s weathered that storm before. But this is different.
This leaves him shaking on the floor of the monastery’s library, tears and muffled sobs bubbling out of him in a steady stream. This makes his throat raw with trying and failing to hold back hiccups and wails. This threatens to make him flip his switches – emotion, memory, personality, something to make it stop – if only to somehow pull himself together.
He sees the worried looks as they prepare for the inevitable bloodbath. He hears the hushed whispers as he methodically loads the last cart with every scroll and book they own, hopeful that he will not need to transcribe them when this is over. He ignores the quiet voice that wonders if he wants to be around to do so when it’s over.
He doesn’t block as quickly as he used to. The pain alarms keep him sharp, keep him moving through the haze.
He doesn’t aim to disarm or stun. He lets that simmering rage take hold, lets it take out every tear, sob, and gasp on these invasive parasites.
He doesn’t hear Nya’s tearful shout. Or Jay’s teasing.
He does stare, frozen, at the triumphant young man who lands in front of him. He feels his circuits spark at the whoop that echoes around them.
He melts into the hand on his cheek and the arm on his waist.
“I thought you said we’d do this together, Snowflake.”
Zane can’t help the smile and harsh laugh that slips out of him. “I know.” He stares into beautiful brown eyes. “Things spiraled a bit.”
Cole smiles at him with worried eyes. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”
Zane leans into his arms for just a moment longer, before pulling back to face the Oni, system finally evening out. “I believe the expression is, ‘better late than never’.”