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One moment, Pixal was conscious, typing in code and finishing uploads.
The next, the was a flash of pain, bright and sharp. Maybe she'd screamed. She couldn't remember the last few seconds before she blacked out.
When Pixal woke up, she was on the ground, in an unfamiliar temple, surrounded by a group of strangers who were laughing at her. It was like a nightmare, to be mocked at all angles, unable to escape.
The strange people, she realized as she shakily pulled herself up on her hands, were wearing face tattoos and helmets made of bone. The tattoos were done in white, purple, and red, and there seemed to be a recurring theme of snakes. If she had to give them a label, she'd call them cultists.
"Up here!" a singsong voice called, giggling hysterically as the sentence came out. Pixal lifted her gaze, doing her best to simulate a heavy glare. It was difficult, considering her position, but she liked to think she did a decent job.
Sitting atop a red throne was who Pixal assumed was the leader of the bunch. He had a similar red face tattoo, along with another bone helmet, a red robe, and a dead snake draped around his neck. Or perhaps it was a plush snake, Pixal couldn’t tell from that distance.
And in his hand, he clutched a staff. It was a deep blue, made to look like a snake. Held in the snake's mouth was a gem, one that radiated power.
Beside him was a girl. She wore an orange robe that resembled ninja gear and had red hair bound in a high ponytail. Her face didn't have any of the tattoos, but Pixal assumed she was also a part of this, considering she stood right next to their leader. She didn't look nearly as excited by all this as anyone else, but rather wore an emotionless expression as she watched it all play out.
"My, my, what do we have here?" he asked, still using his obnoxiously high-pitched voice. "A robot? How interesting!"
Pixal stayed quiet.
"Ohhh, speak up, would you?" the man snapped. "You wouldn’t want me to get bored of you."
Pixal met his words with another glare, refusing to talk. She didn't dare, because what if she accidentally said something? What if she accidentally revealed Zane's location?
"Well then!" The ruler exclaimed. "Maybe some motivation would help you out."
And with that, two more of the cultists dragged in an unconscious titanium body.
"Zane!!" Pixal cried. She tried to get up, but someone grabbed her from behind and forced her back down. She struggled in their grip, desperately wishing for a second she'd spent more time honing the fighting skills embedded into her from Zane.
"Hm," the ruler said. "You know what? Nevermind. I don't like you, robot. You're no fun."
"Let him go!" Pixal shouted.
"See?" the ruler huffed, speaking to the girl beside him. "No fun!"
"What do you want us to do with her, Master Chen?" a gruff voice behind her asked.
"Discard of her," the leader- who Pixal assumed was named Chen- said carelessly. "I don't want her, you don't want her, so we can just get rid of her!"
"Yes, sir," the cultist replied.
"Be a dear and make sure they do it right, will you?" Chen said to the girl with scarlet hair. She nodded, still holding her stony expression. He stood up, beckoning for the guards holding Zane to follow him.
And right before he left, he called out one more thing to the cultists.
"Just dismantle her."
Dismantle.
“No!!” Pixal cried, trying once again to break free. The other cultists were quicker though, grabbing her from all angles. They were like a pack of ravenous wolves, and of course Pixal’s pain receptors were still online.
Pixal had never been happier that Zane wasn’t with her, because she would’ve never wanted him to have to hear her like this. The screams were involuntary, but she couldn’t bring herself to care in that moment.
Pain turned the edges of her vision black, and distantly, she felt wires being severed, sparks of electricity flying through the air, and perhaps even some of her limbs being pulled off.
“Please,” her voice came out hoarse and distorted. “Please stop.”
The girl with the red hair watched silently, something cold in her eyes.
“Make them stop,” Pixal tried pleading again.
“If I had any reason to,” she finally spoke. “I would’ve already said something.”
Amber eyes filled with nothing but apathy were the last thing Pixal saw before someone pulled out her hard drive and plunged her world into nothingness.
A year or two later, Pixal found herself a part of a Resistance, a sliver of hope against Lord Garmadon.
Only one week in, and things weren’t looking good.
The loss of the rest of the team hit harder than anything they’d dealt with in the past, because they were all gone and all they had left were each other and the ruins of Ninjago City.
On the first day, no one was motivated enough to even try a sparring match.
It was Nya who had first stood up, then told them all that they couldn't just sit around like this.
And that led to the first match, between her and Lloyd.
They kept churning on for the next week, until a sweep of the block forced them out of hiding.
The discovery of the possible survival of the team was a short-lived victory, a victory they were all sure would be their last when the Sons of Garmadon showed up.
And then they were saved.
"The Elemental Masters!" Lloyd cried, and just the name made Pixal feel sick to her stomach.
It was just a reminder, a reminder of that stupid Tournament, of the pain-
And that ill-feeling only got worse when a garbage truck pulled up, and driving it was a certain redhead.
"Get in," Skylor said in a voice much kinder than what she'd used talking to Pixal. Thankfully, her sweeping gaze missed Pixal.
Everyone got in the truck, trusting these people with their lives. Trusting the very same person that had just watched as Pixal's body had been ripped apart.
Pixal hesitated.
It was foolish, waiting for even a second when none of the Elemental Masters sought to harm her. That was behind them.
Lloyd noticed that she wasn't in the vehicle yet, and completely unaware of the implications behind her hesitation, called out, "Pixal, we need the mech!"
Thank the First Spinjitzu Master, she thought, managing a smile and nod before scampering away, back to the freezer they'd called a base.
She had to get out of there, had to mentally prepare before Skylor set eyes on her and realized who she was.
She managed to slip under the Sons of Garmadon’s noses and ducked inside the unit, closing the door behind her with a sigh. She slumped against the cold metal, collecting her thoughts for a second.
The absolute last thing she wanted to do was work with Skylor. Truth was, the pair hadn’t spoken at all since the incident, because Pixal had been essentially hiding inside Zane’s head, and Skylor probably still thought she was disassembled and inside that prison cell.
And no one knew. Pixal and Skylor were the only remaining witnesses to that scene.
Destroyed and destroyer.
And now they were allies.
If she were human, Pixal was pretty sure she would’ve thrown up right then and there.
But no complaint escaped her lips as she hopped into the Samurai X mech and powered it up, on her way to join the others.
It was about time she let go of the past and moved on to preserving the future.
Even if that meant working with the same person who’d allowed her body to be ripped apart while she was still conscious.
“What is this place?” Lloyd asked as they entered the base of the Elemental Masters.
“It appears to be a garbage depot,” Pixal remarked, using her Samurai X voice. She hopped out of her suit as she spoke.
“I call it the rest of the Resistance,” Skylor said, her voice making Pixal feel sick. She smiled at both of them, still unaware of Pixal’s identity.
“First things first, intros,” she continued. “You’ve already met Karloff, Turner, and Shade,” she gestured at each of them respectively as they exited the garbage truck. “And that’s Neuro,” she added as someone came down the rickety stairs Pixal hadn’t noticed before. “Master of the Mind.”
“And Tox,” Skylor finished, nodding at the green-haired woman. “Master of Poison.”
“Just what are you supposed to be?” Tox sneered, talking to Dareth.
“I’m Dareth,” he said, ever prideful. “Master of… uh… Brown!”
“Brown?” Tox echoed skeptically.
“You’ll witness my power!” Dareth claimed, striking some over-the-top poses. Skylor sighed.
“And you’re Skylor,” Lloyd said, turning to her as he spoke. “Daughter of Chen. Master of Amber, with the ability to absorb others' powers. I feel rude to ask, but… are they back?” Some of the other Elemental Masters snickered at his question.
“Yes,” Skylor said with her own soft chuckle. “My powers have returned, just as I believe you will find yours again.”
“Don’t forget Mr. Pale!” Karloff chimed in. “He’s around here somewhere.”
A person clad in a red suit, golden sunglasses, and a beige hat suddenly materialized out of nowhere, right next to Dareth, who shrieked and fell onto the ground.
“Oh. There you are,” he mumbled.
“I have a habit of sneaking up on people,” Pale explained in their nasal voice. “Apologies.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Dareth said, standing back up. “I love your work.”
“Samurai X,” Skylor said suddenly. “It’s good to see you too.”
As Kai might’ve said, Pixal thought. Here goes nothing.
“Call me Pixal,” she said, removing her helmet. She kept her expression neutral, waiting for the realization to hit Skylor.
The color drained from her face when it did.
“Oh my god,” she breathed, covering her mouth with one hand. “You’re-”
“I am choosing not to dwell on that,” Pixal murmured. “Please do not mention it.”
“I’m sorry,” Skylor whispered.
“You’ve changed,” Pixal said simply, and she found herself truly meaning the words. “I respect that. And I am in no position to try and decline your kindness because of past events.” she paused before adding, “Let us try and put our history behind us and move forth as allies.”
“Thank you,” Skylor said, taking one of Pixal’s hands and squeezing it between her own two.
“Uh… is anyone gonna explain what just happened?” Turner spoke up.
“Don’t worry about it,” Skylor said dismissively, respecting Pixal’s request to not talk about what had happened.
The conversation slipped into a discussion about scrap metal and their plan going forth, and the whole time, Pixal couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, things wouldn’t turn out so awful.
Her friends were alive, she’d made amends with the person who had disassembled her, and now the size of the Resistance had doubled.
They could do this. They could persist.
And maybe they had a shot at winning this war.