Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

As morbid as it sounded, Zane couldn't curb his excitement at the sight of the seemingly dead body in front of him.

Having been here for so long by himself (well, of course he had Gizmo, too-!), he'd grown to look forward to the next time driftwood or remains of a shipwreck made itself onto the shore. While they insinuated a poor fate for whatever soul had been lost in the disaster, they made a great change of pace for an otherwise unchanging lifestyle of one Zane Julien. The driftwood was great for making repairs to the lighthouse, or, if nothing needed repairing, to make fun trinkets and crafts to pass the time. 

But in all the time he'd been checking the beach daily for new toys to play with, he couldn't recall ever encountering an entire body. He knew humans were buoyant from the older times when his father would claim to feel "young again" and implore Zane to come swimming with him in the water, ignoring the imminent danger of the Leviathan. He recalled watching the older man float in the waves with a smile crinkling his face, carefree and matching his claim of youth. And then, shortly after, either his father would grow tired in the truth of his age, or a roar would shake the air and he'd come scrambling onto the shore, ushering Zane inside.

While those memories were far off now, Zane held onto them dearly. After all, his father was a wonderful man.

The robot watched the waves crash against the rocks nearby, the tide slowly rising as the day grew longer. He glanced back down at the body, unmoving, and wondered if he'd actually be able to move it at all. The stranger had a strangely translucent glow about them, face down in the sand that he could only make out a mop of unkempt black hair and just as tattered clothing. 

Zane crouched down for a closer look and felt a few droplets of the waves splatter against his face, giggling. Similarly, the water pelted the body, but sizzled out in the way Zane's seen it do on the rocks on a particularly hot day where he'll stay inside else his own systems fail from the heat.

The stranger let out a muffled scream into the sand, body jolting and startling Zane into falling back into the sand and kicking up tiny clouds as he scooted away, eyes wide. Yet, he did not feel entirely afraid-- deep in his mind he felt the prick of hope and excitement at possibly having someone new to talk to. If they survived, of course.

The body pushed itself up on its forearms, and similarly to Zane, crawled on the sand to get itself further away from the water, a bit farther up on the beach towards the lighthouse. They flipped themself over and Zane finally saw a face beneath the mop of hair, pale and faintly translucent as well, stark green eyes a color he'd never seen before. Maybe similar to one of the pens upstairs in the studio, or tea leaves before they're used? Yet, it seemed far more bright.

Zane sat in the sand, repositioning himself slightly as to not be in such an awkward position anymore, now that he felt as though this stranger was less of a threat. And more importantly, his purpose kicked in for a moment-- did this person need assistance? Medical help? While he was not necessarily capable of large medical procedures, he had taken care of his father's declining health for years and there were still first-aid materials inside the lighthouse--

"You," The stranger said, bright eyes looking at him darkly and with an air of suspicion, fear, yet thinly veiled curiosity. He pointed with a hand that shook for but a moment before it stabilized itself out.

"Me...?" Zane replied, unsure but not unfriendly. He had a slight smile on his face, not wanting to alarm the stranger while also showing his willingness and hospitality. But, not too desperate, of course! After all, this stranger probably was in a shipwreck, and likely wanted to get back to the mainland as soon as possible. I'm not sure how he'll do that, but...

The stranger didn't respond for a minute, face switching between several emotions. He studied Zane closely, nose scrunching as though he was trying to decide what to even ask first. Luckily, Zane understood what was likely the main question on the other's mind.

"I am an android, if that is what you were wondering about. My creator is Doctor Julien, I was created to assist and protect those who cannot protect themselves. My name is Zane," He replied matter-of-factly, smiling even wider. Of course, Zane had forgotten that robots were not so common. After all, that was why the original Zane had been designed to look as human as possible. His father often told him that he would have gotten the same treatment, had the doctor had the materials to do so. Perhaps, when they reunite, his father could finally give him that last coat of paint? But that thought would have to wait for now; the stranger still seemed to be confused. If anything, he seemed even more lost than before.

"Would you like to come inside for some tea? I think there's a storm coming in soon..." Zane suggested, still trying to goad some kind of response out of the other. He pointed in the direction of the dark clouds behind the stranger in the distance, and the other swiveled his head hurriedly to confirm there was, in fact, a storm on the horizon. A sour expression settled over the stranger's face.

"Yea, sure... Whatever keeps me out of that rain," He answered sharply, standing up and not waiting for Zane's response. What a go-getter! Zane jogged to get ahead of him in order to show the way to the lighthouse, even though there were no other structures on the island to get it confused with. They quickly ascended the main stairs, and Zane opened the door with a slight flourish.

"Please, make yourself at home," He smiled again, and the stranger continued giving him that weird stare as though he had five heads. Maybe he's a little odd, but that's alright. He ran once more to catch up with the other who was already halfway up the stairs leading to the studio.

"You live here by yourself?" The man asked, back facing Zane as he looked around at the different objects scattered around the room. A couple easels left over from his father, now littered with attempts at learning to draw on Zane's part. A pile in the corner of spare parts for safe keeping, another of driftwood collected over time... It was a lived-in home, one that Zane was determined to keep warm and inviting for the day his father returned.

"No, no... I have a roommate," Zane replied, waving his hand. He made his way to the far side of the room where the dining table was, currently only set for one, and tapped on the small box nearby. "Gizmo, we have a guest!"

Zane delighted in the stranger's surprised gaze as he watched the small robot pop out from within the box, chittering and beeping in excitement to be of use to a new face. Quickly, it hopped up onto the table and set down a second cup of tea to join the first, skittering over to the kitchenette to prepare a pot of tea as fast as possible. Zane motioned towards the seats at the table and the guest was knocked out of his stupor, hesitantly sitting down.

"So it's just you and... that thing? What about that Julien guy you mentioned?" The stranger seemed to be carefully deliberating over each of his questions, a million more displayed on his face as he stared directly at Zane, a stern expression.

"Oh, my father... He left some time ago, maybe two or so years now? I wasn't really keeping track, if I'm being honest, hehe..." Zane laughed, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. He had considered it, a long time ago, picking up on keeping the tally marks his father kept so diligently on the walls of the studio, but eventually he ran out of room to use. It seemed a pointless endeavor. "But I've been keeping the hearth warm for his return, so to speak."

The stranger went quiet, then, "My name is Morro."

Zane's grin grew, and he clapped his hands together, "Oh! I was just about to ask! It's nice to meet you, Morro. Where do you come from?"

"Not relevant- anyway, I'm curious about something," Morro had a blunt way of speaking, Zane had noticed. He would curtly redirect or even ignore entire lines of conversation, redirecting in a way that left the android slightly lost. After all, he'd always been taught to respond to any question someone asked of him with utmost honesty and politeness. Was Morro not taught the same by his own father? I suppose it's rude of me to wonder...

"Ah... yes, what is it?"

"You said your name is Zane-- you're not the same as the other one though, right?"

Other one.

The original.

"You've... met my brother?" Zane's smile suddenly felt harder to put on, hands clutching his cup ever so tighter, gears shifting just a little less fluidly, heartbeat speeding up just a smidge faster--

"Blue eyes, silver, looks exactly like you? Also named Zane? Yeah, I'd guess so. Never bothered knowing the guy's surname," Morro trailed off, glancing around. He said something else, but the words didn't process through Zane's head. 

Once, he remembered joining his father for one of his impulsive swims. While his body was not fully water-proof, his father insisted that it would survive for just a few minutes in the water without issue. Of course, he trusted his own father and heeded his words, excitedly sprinting into the waves himself and joining in the fun. 

He remembered the sun that day, glinting so brightly it nearly blinded him. He remembered his father's crinkled smile. And he remembered how strong the waves were, pulling him under as he felt the weight of the water entering his body. 

The surface of the water, glittering and wonderful, the bright sun and beautiful sky sank further away as he was pulled from it. All too fast, all too fast.

He didn't remember much else about that day, vague images of his father grabbing his arm and being thumped onto the sand, spinning and finally understanding the feelings his father described to him when he one day asked what it was like to die.

This feeling, though Zane was not drowning under an ocean now, was so similar, it nearly made him reel back in pure shock.

Morro eyed him and he only now realized the other's mouth was no longer moving, drawn into a thin line as his bright green irises scanned him as though perhaps, like Zane, he had an internal monitor inside his eyelids (though he knew non-robots did not possess this).

Zane honed in on those eyes, the sharp color unlike anything he'd ever known grounding him for a moment, and he let out a long, stunted breath as he looked down at his hand, dripping with tea from a cup Gizmo had filled while he wasn't looking, not long for this world as he seemingly destroyed it in his stupor.

"Oh, messy me... I'm sorry Gizmo, could I ask you to help clean up the shards? I wouldn't want Morro to step on them," He beckoned the little bot over from where it was setting the kettle back onto the stove, and it quickly chirped in response as it gathered supplies in its hands.

Morro laughed lightly, giving him another one of his strange looks. "I wouldn't worry about me stepping on that. You think I'm worried about getting a cut, or something?"

"Huh?" Zane turned his head to face the other, puzzled.

Morro's face tightened for a moment, but then he laughed again. "You... realize I'm a ghost, right?" He held out his hand across the table, splayed for Zane to see. And see he did--right through it, beneath faintly calloused fingers and bandaged wrists and chips of paint left on nails he saw the table right there.

Zane gaped at the hand, then up at Morro's face, then back down at the hand, as though he wasn't sure what to be impressed at.

Morro continued his uproarious laughter, but it was not malicious-- he seemed genuinely entertained. It was a nice laugh to contrast with his otherwise terse personality, which Zane appreciated, if he wasn't the butt of the joke right now!

"I.. I see! I didn't know ghosts were a real thing, only from the stories... My father never described having such an experience to me," Zane explained, joining in on the laughter with a slight hesitance, but seeing no bad intention from Morro, felt his shoulders relax. 

"I get it now, don't worry," Morro didn't quite smile, but his mouth was upturned enough that Zane could make out the unique dimple decorating only one side of his face. Humans were always fascinating like that... Their small imperfections fascinated Zane. After all, he was created to be... perfect. Or something along those lines, at least. 

"So..." Zane trailed off, trying to figure out how the least awkward way to prop this question would be. "You died in a shipwreck, and your ghost washed up here...? I'm really sorry to hear that, if so."

Morro looked ready to laugh again, but something else appeared to be weighing on him at Zane's words. "No, I've been a ghost for a long time. I have no idea how I ended up here. Water is supposed to destroy ghosts, and I..." He looked lost in thought, brows furrowing as his body language tensed. "Where are we, exactly?"

"Ninjago...?" Zane answered slowly, not quite sure what the other was looking for as an answer. "This island is off the western coast. I don't know any more than that though, I'm sorry..."

"Western coast!?" Morro shouted, hands slamming on the table. Zane jumped in his seat at the sound, and Morro sat his own self back down, hand on his chin. "There's no way I could have drifted from Stiix to the west coast without getting destroyed a minute in..." 

Zane had no idea what he was talking about. He didn't know what Stiix was, or where it was, or how far it was from here. It made him upset that he couldn't help the other in his seeming predicament, but what was he to do? I wish I could be more useful...

"Pardon me, but I'm a bit lost... If you didn't come from a shipwreck, where did you come from?" The droid asked, trying to not be intrusive but still he was curious, and he wanted to know what all these things meant so he could help.

"The details aren't really important, if I'm being honest," Morro waved his hand dismissively, "It's not relevant to you, anyhow." He looked out the window at the rain, grimacing. "But, you don't suppose I could stay here for the night? Again, ghosts don't do water. I don't wanna know what happens if I get destroyed a second time."

Zane perked up, trying not to be too disappointed at his questions being redirected once again. "Oh, of course! There's a bed you could use, my father's, I don't mind sleeping on the floor since that's what I used to do! Please, make yourself comfortable," He said cheerily, standing up to show the way as Gizmo finished cleaning up the bits of shattered cup from before, moving on to clear the table as well.

He led Morro to a corner of the room secluded by a curtain attached to the ceiling, giving the image of a private area, though the curtain swayed from the wind coming through the windows nearby. Luckily, this corner had no windows, and Morro would be safe from the rain. As Zane moved to grab the blankets to make the bed a bit more organized (he had slept in it the night before, and in his morning laziness had not bothered to make it yet...), but Morro grasped his wrist and he paused.

"I really don't need to sleep in the bed, I can just float. I can't even feel the blankets or anything, so... it's kind of pointless for me," The ghost explained a bit flatly, and Zane watched him lift his feet off the floor and stay there, as though to prove his point. 

Zane made a small "o" with his mouth, but still... "Are you sure? I want to make sure you're comfortable while you're here," He said, a lopsided smile. At Morro's blank, bored stare, he got his answer. "Okay, okay, if you insist. Umm... You should probably still stay in this corner though, it's the only one without windows..." 

"Very well," is all Morro gives him in response, tossing himself up in the air as though there were an invisible bed beneath him. It left Zane awestruck for a moment. His father had told him many stories of the mainland, a place with beings who could control magical abilities, or supernatural ones, even... But he'd never actually seen anything like it, besides the leviathan outside, of course (though he hadn't seen that fellow in awhile, and briefly wondered if it was doing alright). Seeing a supernatural being work their magic in person was something else, for sure. He wondered what it was like to walk on air as though it were earth.

"Goodnight, Morro!" Zane chirped, leaving the corner and pulling the curtain to leave the ghost to his privacy as the android began to clean up for the night. 

Gizmo was discarding the broken cup pieces in the trash, and Zane picked up the cup that Morro had used, almost starting to turn it over in his hands before he realized it still had tea in it-- he poured it down the drain. A waste, but he supposed there was nothing else to do about it. 

He's so strange... Zane washed the cup under the water, disliking the feeling of the liquid on his metal. Suffocating. He quickly dried off with a towel and set the cup back down on the counter to be used later, scanning the rest of the studio for anything that needed to be fixed. 

The rain pattered lightly on the roof, and Zane was thankful it wasn't any heavier, else he have to get out the tarps. Really, who would design a lighthouse with only holes where glass windows should be...? His father was always vague about his reason for living in such a place, buried deep in his mind like a locked box alongside other topics he tended to be vague about.

The android's mind went back to the conversation with Morro before, about... that person. As though second nature, Zane's feet took him to the one workbench rarely touched by his own hands, covered in a thin coat of dust from having not been tended to in a day or so. Zane brushed aside some of it, making a mental note to dust again this week, and gingerly opened one of the drawers, shifting through the contents.

He fished out a photograph, old and worn and dented at the corners where Zane had held it in his hands a million times in this same way.

In the photo itself was his father, a bit younger looking than some of Zane's earliest memories of him, his face twisted into his usual crinkled smile, bringing a smile to Zane's own face. He was arm in arm with someone else, a bird held between them. The other person was...

Zane's grip tightened, causing yet further damage to the photograph, and he set it back into the drawer carefully, slamming it shut afterwards. 

It was time for bed.

Chapter Text

You can only save those who want to be saved.

That’s what he said in that moment, his hand feeling far too weak as it slipped and his will even weaker as it waned.

He was ready then, to face whatever came to meet him underneath those waves. The cursed realm? The departed realm? Somewhere far worse, somewhere even the First Spinjitsu Master hadn’t touched? 

And yet…

Morro found himself sitting on the windowsill, head tilted over his shoulder as he glanced out in the direction of the sea. The eastern sea, he reminded himself, kilometers away from where Stiix is. What the hell am I doing here?

He thought maybe, this is punishment from the Cloud Kingdom for turning one of their own against them, though that idiot would’ve turned bad sooner or later, anyhow. I only sped up the process. But really, how could this truly be a punishment? If anything, he deserved some kind of destiny worse than the cursed realm, or even the realm of madness… Not, stuck in a lighthouse in the middle of who knows where with some strange robot he was definitely questioning the origins of. Seriously, what was this guy’s deal?

Said guy was across the room (which Morro found to be much messier than yesterday, so he supposed the wind had its way during the storm last night), currently dusting off a desk that didn’t even look like it was that dusty. He had a lot of questions, but this ‘Zane’ character seemed like he wouldn’t be able to give real answers. 

Calling him Zane is going to be confusing… But what else is there? Bronze Zane? Zane Two?

Not that he was friends with the ninja of ice, or anything, but he was certainly aware of all of the ninja and their escapades. Both from his own research, and from being stuck in the head of a brat who thought of nothing but his family twenty four seven. 

Copy Zane, Dupe Zane… His head continued to come up with new options, but none of them seemed reasonable. He stared intently at the robot from across the room, almost glaring (though not on purpose, he tended to just… look like that), until the other turned around and made eye contact with him. He quickly looked away, studying some empty easel on the other side of the room as though it was far more interesting.

Echo Zane? Maybe.

That might be fine for now, so Morro put the thought to rest. With nothing else to focus on, his mind trailed elsewhere, following the curves of the walls absentmindedly with his eyes, studying the tally marks and once more landing his gaze on the robot across the room. Echo Zane.

It takes others to make us stronger. That’s what the old man said. But what good were those words of wisdom when he was already doomed from the start? He was a ghost, it wasn’t like he could just waltz up to any old person and be like, hey, wanna be friends? And, he did have others! Bansha, and Soul Archer, and… Ghoultar. He had definitely talked to them, mostly to give orders, but they did work together. So basically, Wu’s words were useless. Even with allies, he ended up losing in the end.

He continued staring intensely at Echo, who seemingly understood his intense gaze and actively ignored it by dusting the same spots over and over again. 

Seeing as he didn’t need sleep, Morro had spent most of the night trying to reason out the situation he was in. For some reason, Cloud Kingdom, or hell, maybe even the First Spinjitsu Master himself… someone decided to let him survive and end up here of all places, probably for some greater destiny bullshit… 

Those ninja were always involved in fate and destiny, and this robot apparently couldn’t avoid that fate either. Certainly, he was connected to the ice ninja. He said he was his brother, right? But I definitely don’t remember seeing him before.

He took some time to study Echo’s appearance. He was definitely nothing in comparison to the ice ninja, who had sleek titanium coating and seemingly very modern technology (Morro only barely understood how robots existed in the first place, but he had given up on trying to figure out this technology nonsense awhile ago). Instead, Echo seemed to be made of maybe bronze or copper… Morro didn’t necessarily know the materials, but he could certainly tell less were used in the creation of this robot. Not to mention the incredible amount of rust stains covering his whole body, the broken hatch on his chest cavity… Echo said he didn’t keep track of how long he’d been here, but how long really was it for him to be in this condition?

This whole situation was starting to unsettle him. And most importantly, why had he been brought here in the first place? What was the greater plan?

I fucking hate destiny.

“Umm…” A voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and Morro realized that Echo had actually decided to stop pretending to clean and approach him instead. 

“What?”

“I’ve been wondering this since you woke up, but I wasn’t sure how to ask, since maybe it’s a sensitive topic, or something… But,” Echo started, twisting the rag he’d been using to clean in his hands as he avoided direct eye contact, a shy smile on his face. “Do you need to eat? Because I can catch–”

“No, I don’t,” Morro replied bluntly, raising an eyebrow, “Do you know what a ghost is?”

“I do! I do,” Echo waved his hands defensively, but there was a slight laugh to their voice, “I just wanted to check, I guess! The food stores here expired some time ago, but I do not require food, so it’s never been a problem… I guess it’ll continue not to be, which is good!” He clapped his hands together, but then frowned, “I mean, not that you’re a ghost, but I suppose it has its pros, right?”

“Yeah, guess so,” leaning his head back, Morro briefly contemplated dropping out of the window and letting the air take him for a moment. It was a beautiful day outside, so contrasting to the rough storm the night prior. The sky was a deep blue, and the waves sparkled. Despite his status as a ghost, water didn’t necessarily scare him. Unsettle, maybe, but in the same way one feels unsettled looking over a high cliff down at the ground far below. 

He stayed put, though, because he wasn’t sure giving Echo a heart attack (does he have a heart?) the first thing in the morning is a good idea. 

Echo thinks I have no way of leaving this island, too… If he knew I had wind powers, would he ask me to leave? Morro looked at the robot again, who was going through a cabinet searching for something. Maybe not, he seems desperate for company. I feel bad he’s stuck with someone like me .

Maybe, just maybe, he should help the guy out? Take him off of the island? Though he’s not quite sure Echo would agree, he also seemed quite attached to the idea of waiting for his father to return. And really, was it Morro’s place to disrupt whatever it is the guy wanted? That could be why I was sent here, I guess. Not that he wanted to follow this new destiny thrusted upon him.

He watched Echo fish out a decent sized box from the cabinet, carrying it to the table and setting it down very gently. When he opened it, Morro now saw that it was a chessboard inside, nothing special, simply standard game pieces. The robot looked up and met his eyes, and Morro saw them sparkle with an excitement he had not seen so far.

Oh, FSM…

“Want to play?” Echo asked, grinning like a cat who just got the cream. “I love this game.”

He couldn’t say no to an expression like that, he wasn’t that much of a villain. One or two rounds couldn’t kill him, right? And then he could maybe ask a few questions burning in the back of his mind…

“Sure,” Morro hopped off the windowsill and floated himself over to the seat opposite to Echo’s, where he had sat yesterday while they drank tea (though, obviously, he hadn’t drank any). The robot excitedly set up the board with the speed and precision of a world champion, and Morro briefly wondered what he had actually gotten himself into. 

It’s definitely been awhile since I’ve played this… He remembered Wu teaching him when he was young, still barely training and focusing more on his education, but he didn’t think he’d ever actually won a match. Only the ones Wu threw on purpose.

“I set myself as black, I hope that’s okay,” Echo said apologetically, still smiling. “You can go whenever you’re ready.”

Morro nodded, he underestimates me, he noted, as he looked down at the pieces. Really only one option, a pawn, but which way to move it…

“Pawn to G4,” Morro stated as he moved the piece. He knew opening moves were supposed to matter, but it had been decades since he’s played the damn game… Pretty much every strategy he knew had left his head at this point.

“Pawn to E5,” Echo replied, giddy and practically vibrating in his seat.

Morro deliberated for a moment, then looked up at Echo, who was still smiling at him. He really doesn’t look that much like the ice ninja, now that I think about it… They have quite different faces, don’t they? He’s…

“Morro?” Echo stared at him expectantly, “It’s your move…”

“Oh, yeah, um…” Got lost in thought, shit. What was a good move here? He didn’t really know… at the beginning of the game it didn’t really matter, right? Just pick a random pawn…

“Pawn to F3,” Morro quickly moved the piece.

Echo stared at him, wide eyed.

Then, he laughed.

“Wow, if you didn’t want to play, you could’ve just said so!” His words weren’t malicious, and he was laughing, but Morro was lost. “Gizmo loves this game too, so he would’ve played with me. You don’t have to feel obligated to, you know?”

“I don’t think I–”

“Queen to H4. Checkmate,” Echo moved his queen without another thought, still laughing. 

Oh. Oh.

How could he have done something so stupid?!

Morro smacked himself in the face, of course. He really was losing it these days, because he had forgotten one of the first moves Wu had ever taught him about. The fool’s mate. Actually the worst possible white opening in the game.

“I need to redeem myself,” Morro pressed the palms of his hands against the table, brow furrowing. “Another game.”

“Of course!” Echo chirped in response, resetting the pieces. “Do you want white again?”

“Let’s switch,” he requested, and Echo nodded, flipping the board gently so as to not disturb the pieces. This time, he would not fail as horribly…

…And he definitely didn’t fail horribly , but Echo still mopped the floor with him within 10 moves. Seriously, how often did this guy practice?!

“That was so much fun!” The robot cheered, grinning so brightly Morro was half convinced he was the living embodiment of the sun or something. Really, he seemed the exact opposite of his so-called ‘brother’, who Morro remembered to be fairly reclusive with his expressions. If this guy was meant to be a copy, the doctor definitely failed in that department. Speaking of which…

“Hey,” Morro started, and Echo paused as he was resetting the pieces, looking up directly into his eyes. Those bright yellow irises really did feel like looking into the sun.

“What is it?” 

“Your father, Julien or whatever his name was… Why did he leave? Why not take you with him?” Morro came out with it directly. He was never known for his subtlety, after all. The question had been burning in his head since yesterday, and he had thought of an answer, but it wasn’t one he wanted to hear. Maybe a ‘ I wanted to stay’, or ‘ we were separated’ , anything but the answer he’d already devised for himself.

Echo paused, chess piece in hand, grip tightening slightly, which Morro didn’t miss. His bright expression faltered for a moment, but didn’t disappear, only morphing into a more passive smile. Yet, like the clouds rolling in , Morro watched the sunlight fade from his eyes. He felt a strange pang in his chest at that.

“Listen, if you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t– sorry I even asked,” Morro patched it up  quickly, not liking the change in atmosphere. “Let’s just–”

“I don’t know.”

Morro studied him, his answer seemingly forced and painful. He could tell, because he had put on that facade far too many times in his life. That day when Wu had come to comfort him in his room after an outburst, after an insistence of his destiny… I’m okay, I know I’m not the chosen one, he would lie, smiling to put Wu at ease, only to find himself training even harder the next day. Because destiny could be wrong, couldn’t it?

Morro finished setting up the rest of the chess pieces, waiting for Echo to set down the pawn he was gripping like his life depended on it. 

“Do you want black or white?” Morro asked, and Echo put the piece in place gingerly. 

“I’ll play black again,” He replied tersely, but Morro could hear the same lightness from before slipping back into his voice, shoulders relaxing.

“Pawn to C4,” Morro moved his piece, and let out a great sigh.

------------

The wind brushed past Morro, tussling his hair despite his incorporeal form. That was the thing about his element… he felt so connected to it, in a way he had never felt with anything else in his life. From the moment he began to hear its whispers as a child, he acknowledged it as a friend, an extension of himself.

He captured the breeze, a flick of his fingers twisting it into a small wisp in his palm, tickling his skin in a way nothing else could. Even if he was a ghost, the wind was still a part of him… able to touch him, bring him some sense of feeling in the world. Of course, he was able to interact with objects if he wanted to, but it wasn’t quite the same– he didn’t feel it, really, only a faint sensation of touching something. But the wind made him reminisce of being alive, of feeling the ground beneath his feet and the air in his lungs.

The sky was a bright orange by now, sun a bright orb dropping into the twisting sea. He let his legs dangle over the side of the roof, wind gently blowing by him as he gazed upon it. Not really a bad view at all…

Morro sighed, leaning back and laying down, arms folded behind his head. He closed his eyes for a moment, imagining the salty scent of the sea. The sound of the waves reminded him of Stiix, of the water ninja sending a tsunami directly towards him, instantly destroying everything he’d worked so hard for. 

But really, he’d been stupid. He’d never admit it out loud, but it had all been so stupid… There was nothing he could do about destiny. It had been that girl’s destiny to unlock her powers, for him to lose everything… But that didn’t mean he couldn’t be annoyed. Cloud Kingdom could fuck off, for all he cared.

And it’s their idea of destiny for me to be here, I guess…

He still didn’t quite understand it. So what, Echo was clearly not wanting to deal with whatever problems he had, but how was Morro supposed to help with that? Free therapy sessions? He wasn’t exactly the peak of sanity himself!

Wu’s words echoed in his head. It takes others to make us stronger . Others who aren’t just ghosts working towards the same goal, others who aren’t archaic gods using you as a worthless pawn, ready to be discarded. He supposed the old man’s words made some sense, in this context.

I still don’t get what I’m meant to do, though,

As much as he hated to admit it, he wasn’t entirely opposed to following this supposed destiny that was laid before him. He knew he made mistakes in his life (and death), and watching someone else make those same mistakes… it was kind of humbling, in a way. And embarrassing. If anything, stopping it would make him feel just a bit less like a total idiot who wasted both a life and an afterlife. Maybe that’s why they gave me another one.

“Morro, are you up there?” Echo’s voice called from below the eaves, and the ghost rolled over to peer his head down, hair falling down to frame his face.

“Can I help you?” Morro asked, raising a brow. He didn’t really expect Echo to be talking to him after they played chess for two hours in pure silence outside of calling out moves (which, despite the amount of time they spent, Morro had yet to win a single match). He’d retreated to the roof to sulk in his defeat after Echo announced he wanted to be done and walked downstairs without another word. It was whatever, everyone needs alone time. 

“I was just wondering where you were, is all,” He said, voice softening. I thought you left , was unsaid, but Morro understood.

“Checking out the view from up here. It’s pretty nice,” and then, “Wanna see?”

“I–” Echo stuttered, brows raised, “How? I mean I don’t think there’s any roof access from here, so I–”

Morro extended his arm towards the window, “Take my hand.”

Echo regarded him skeptically. “I don’t think so.”

“ Trust me, there’s no way you’d fall.”

The robot seemed to be weighing his options, but extended his own hand to set it in Morro’s, who gripped it tightly in turn. Echo seemed to be shocked that he could change himself to be corporeal and that there was, in fact, a hand to grasp in the first place.

“Hold on tight,” Morro grinned, pulling with all his might (and perhaps, a little help from an updraft). Echo yelped as the ghost swung him onto the rooftop, landing softened by a subtle wind cushion placed quickly. 

“You’re surprisingly strong,” The robot laughed.

“Of course, did you think I was weak? Don’t you see my gi ?” Morro pursed his lips, frowning but not entirely serious. 

“I also was not expecting your hand to be so warm,” Echo said nonchalantly, brows quirked as he still held onto said hand, picking it up as though to inspect it, before letting go. “How is it like that when you have no blood?”

“Huh,” The ghost drew his mouth into a line, thinking about the question himself. It wasn’t like he could feel his own hands, so he had no way of knowing how warm they were… “Maybe it’s just that you’re warm? You’ve got all those, uh… what are they called,” he tried to call on some of his modern knowledge from his memories of Lloyd’s mind, “Circus…?”

“Circuits!” Echo corrected him, smiling, “But I’m not nearly as advanced as that. My body runs primarily on steam, so I have to fill my water tank every day. I suppose that might make me warm…” he wondered aloud, scratching his chin. “My father didn’t have access to anything more than that when he built me, so he had to change his original blueprints to accommodate…”

“Original blueprints?” Morro echoed, “For Zane?”

Echo’s expression fell, and he turned his head to look out at the sea, the sun now gone over the horizon, and the light of the moon beginning to glow off of his brownish metal. “Yeah.”

I shouldn’t push him, was Morro’s first thought. His selfish thought, really. Because why should he, of all people, get involved in someone’s personal business like that? He was hardly qualified, a barely reformed villain, wandering aimlessly through some weird new destiny… What could he possibly offer in advice, in support?

But doesn’t he know things can be so much more… than this?

“You don’t like him,” Morro said.

“That’s not true!” Echo’s response was immediate, sharp. Golden eyes stared directly at him, glowing faintly in the growing darkness.

“You always avoid talking about him. What happened between you and your father?” Morro persisted, voice growing more stern. Echo looked away, unresponsive, brows furrowed.

“I don’t know. He just left one day.”

“If that was true, I doubt you’d act like this.”

Echo’s eyes sharpened, the golden hue turning into a piercing edge. But Morro was plenty used to stares like that, and held his ground, his own face hardening.

“So what? He left you to go be with Zane?” Morro was treading on delicate ground.

Two moves. Checkmate.

“Yeah,” Echo said. And then, “I’m not mad, though.”

As if.

Morro knew this tale all too well, and it suddenly became perfectly clear to him why fate had brought him here. As he suspected, in all its cruelness, destiny wanted to call him a fool, an idiot, an absolute fucking buffoon . 

I’m not mad, Morro had said, when he was young and stupid and far too full of himself for his own good. When the only person who had ever loved and cared for him in his wasteful life had expressed nothing but concern, a willingness to support him and help him like no other. And he had discarded it in a fit of idiocy. 

I’ll prove it to you, he told himself in private. I am the green ninja. I am mad, but not because you lied, but because you underestimate me, sensei.

And then he left. And he died. Pointlessly.

I see your game now, destiny.

He saw himself reflected in those deep golden eyes, filled with determination and guilt and doubt and pain and he was so, so fucking pissed. At a variety of people. At those idiots in Cloud Kingdom, that idiot doctor Julien, that idiot Wu. And yet, it filled him with his own sense of determination. That perhaps, he could be not entirely useless. That he could stop someone else from ending up in the same fate as him.

I’ll play.

“Let’s go inside,” Morro said, voice much softer than before, his harshness turned down for but a moment.

Echo seemed to snap out of his haze, looking up with a face still scrunched up in some unnamed emotion. “I didn’t really… consider how that would happen. Getting up is one thing, but…”

Morro felt a smile cross his face, a little mischievous but fully real. “I want to show you something,” He offered his hand again, “Trust me?”

The other regarded him even more skeptically than before, the remnants of pain on his face slipping into a more confused gaze, hesitant and unsure. Morro kept his own hand steady, and Echo let out a deep breath, grasping it.

“You won’t regret it,” Morro said quietly, words caught by the wind. Holding on tightly to the metal hand in his, he stepped off the eaves, dropping into the familiar world of the open air.

Naturally, Echo screamed. Morro did feel bad, just for a minute.

But he let the air cushion him like a pile of pillows, leaning back into it. With all his flailing, Echo ended up falling directly into his chest, briefly knocking the wind out of him, but he recovered quickly, opting to carry the other to avoid another incident. Upon realizing he was no longer in free fall, Echo stopped his cries.

“Wha… what the–?” He stuttered out, looking around frantically at the ground that he was not broken into a million tiny pieces against, that instead was innocently a few meters below him. He looked up at Morro, who was smiling.

“See, told you. Cool, right?” The ghost used the wind to propel them upwards, not too fast, but they were back at the windows of the lighthouse in no time. With the practiced ease of someone who controlled their element as an extra limb, Morro walked onto the air into the safety of the studio, settling down on the wooden floor and giving Echo a chance to recover himself.

“What was that?!” The robot asked, steam rolling off of him in waves as he gaped. “I thought ghosts were just meant to float, but–”

“I’m an elemental master,” Morro said flatly, “I can control the wind.”

Echo considered him for a moment, but seemingly concluded he had no reason to doubt him. However, his expression fell. “But if you can do all that… Why are you staying here? Could you not just fly away?”

“I could fly both of us away, if you wanted. You could leave this place.”

The robot looked at him in disbelief. “No, I could never…” He trailed off, “I must stay here.”

“Then I’ll stay with you.”

“But… why?” The way the other looked at him had nothing but pure confusion, emotion bursting at the seams and ready to fall to the floor.

“Honestly? I couldn’t tell you,” Morro replied bluntly, and Echo’s shoulders sank. “But I just do. For some reason I can’t understand. I just feel like this is where I need to be… where I should be, or something…”

“I do not want you to feel like you have to stay here, because I’m all alone,” Echo said, brows furrowed. “I promise if you leave, you’d just forget about me anyway, like…”

“Like…?”

Echo grew silent, “Just… like my father, you know. Left without another word, never came back. Surely he’s living a wonderful life now, and if you’ve been blessed with a second life as a ghost, why waste it on some drab island where there’s nothing to do? It just doesn’t make sense.”

“I agree. It doesn’t make sense, but for some reason, it does,” He set a hand on Echo’s shoulder, gripping it not too tight but with enough firmness to show his earnesty. “But I feel like it’s the right thing for me. It’s not like you can kick me out, anyway.”

Echo smiled wryly, “I suppose that is true.”

Morro smiled back, beyond himself. 

I sound like a total chump. Guess that’s who I am now.

But if this is what that meant, perhaps being a total chump wouldn’t be so bad.

It takes others to make us stronger.

I understand now, Wu.

Chapter Text

“I don’t think we’re alone.”

Zane blinked into the familiar darkness. He was having that dream again. A faceless voice ringing beyond his memories, calling out to him. It whispered kind things he’d never once heard before, yet felt right hearing. Like a fragment of himself that was missing. But this dream always ended the same way.

“Echo Zane,” someone said to him, a warm hand on his shoulder. He imagined faces, so many new faces he’d never known. But the details were blurred, faint like the ships he sometimes saw on the horizon. He could only ever discern a few things, like the lights that reflected the sea, or the faint dark shape against the bright daytime horizon. But, like these faces in the recesses of his mind, those ships were always gone in a few minutes, off to some mainland he knew nothing about.

Yet, he could picture it. Towering buildings, even taller than the lighthouse. People, hundreds and thousands of people. The workshop where his father used to live, in a beautiful forest described to him as being from out of a fairytale, eternally covered in something called “snow”, which was said to be frozen water. 

A person beside him, looking back at him with his own face, smiling.

“My name is Zane,” he said in his own voice, calling out to someone who would never respond. The voices in his dreams never did, only spoke their words that felt like they lived on the edge of his brain, familiar and yet so foreign.

The name Echo is what they always called him. He had never been called this name in his life. But somehow, he liked it more than being called Zane.

He hated that name so very much. It was not his own.

“I’m glad you’re here,” someone said, and he felt like he was going to throw up, even if it was a dream, even if he physically couldn’t throw up in any capacity. He had always wanted to hear those words.

But no one had ever said that.

He woke up in his father’s bed, tangled among the blankets.

That dream again.

The familiarity didn’t seem so uncomfortable to him at first, but as his systems began waking up for the day, he recalled that he had actually stopped having the dream for almost a week now. He had even begun to wonder if it was gone for good.

I guess not, he thought bitterly, untangling himself from the sheets. This was the first night he’d slept in the bed in a few days, since he had wanted to leave Morro the option to use it. Even if the ghost insisted there was no reason for him to sleep in a bed, Zane felt wrong going against the selflessness his father had instilled in him. However, after Morro nagged him about it, he felt even more wrong denying the other’s wishes.

The curtain surrounding the bed had been drawn, providing privacy, but he didn’t remember actually drawing it the night before.

Morro…

After fully shaking the remaining drowsiness from his systems, Zane emerged, pulling the curtains aside and poking his head out. His internal clock told him it was around eight in the morning, precisely nine hours after he had shut himself down for the night. Good to know everything is still working properly. He was beginning to dread malfunctions in both his software and physical body, seeing as the storage of materials he’d been using to repair himself the last few years was beginning to dry up… Either he’d have to leave at some point to get more (Not an ideal scenario), or he’d simply rust up and shut down one day (The idealness of this scenario was yet to be determined).

He was honestly grateful Morro had never asked him why he was so reluctant to leave the island. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see the mainland… he’d dreamed of seeing it for a long time, many days and nights spent staring out the window in the direction he assumed it to be. 

But it also scared him.

The mainland was where his father was. It was where Zane was. Not him. The real Zane, the person whose name he hid behind. The name that crawled under his metal lining, twisting up inside his circuits and settling next to his heart, gripping it tighter and tighter every time he thought of it.

He would like, if at all possible, to never encounter either of them. And if that meant remaining on the island, then so be it.

“Morning,” Morro’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts, calling to him from across the room. The ghost was seated at the table across from Gizmo, a game of chess splayed across the surface. “I was gonna ask if you slept well, but with that look on your face, that question answered itself.”

Zane touched his hands to his face as though he would be able to feel what Morro was talking about, but then simply rubbed it, trying to push the sleep out of his eyes. He wasn’t capable of feeling tired, necessarily, but he still felt like his systems were lagging so far behind… Like he was trying to move through water instead of air.

“You shouldn’t play with him,” Zane replied, slight exasperation behind his smile as he walked over to the table. He pointed at Gizmo, “He’s a cheater.”

The little robot beeped angrily in protest.

“I’ve noticed,” Morro smirked, still continuing to play his moves. Zane observed the board. Morro was one or two turns away from getting checked, but in his defense, there were definitely one or two pieces from the ghost’s side missing, no doubt swiped when he wasn’t looking. “But I figured you wouldn’t appreciate me throwing your little buddy out the window,” He laughed.

“How very considerate of you,” Zane smiled in response, feeling a lightness in his chest. “Though I can’t say I’ve never considered the option myself.” Gizmo beeped in offense, but Zane simply patted him on the head. “Oh, I would never,” he assured the little robot.

“Considerate, huh? Can’t say I’ve heard that one before,” Morro raised his brows, and Zane couldn’t help but notice the bitterness in his voice. Surely, there were some underlying feelings the ghost didn’t wish to talk about… but it also somewhat bothered him how vague the other kept being. He wanted to respect that privacy, but at the same time, he’d told Morro so much about himself– how come he got to know nothing in return?

He said he knows my brother.

It had been a few uneventful days now. Long hours spent playing chess (Which Morro had yet to win a match of), or time Zane spent by himself in the studio, not quite sure where the ghost had run off to. Given that he had the ability to fly, the robot was still unsure as to why Morro chose to stay here. He had certainly declared his intentions as feeling like it was simply “Where he needed to be” (Whatever that meant), but Zane couldn’t help but feel… suspicious? Worried?

After all, if the other knew the real Zane, why is he wasting his time with some… Zane tried to bury the thought, but it prevailed regardless.

… Copy.

Maybe it was time to take the initiative and try to get answers to some of his questions.

“Hey, Morro,” Zane started, eyes drawn on the chessboard instead of the other’s face. Morro’s eyes made him… not necessarily unsettled, but nervous. Like they could see right through him, down to his wires and gears. 

Morro didn’t respond with words, instead letting out a, “Hm,” to show his attention. Over the past few days, Zane had found he was not too much of a conversationalist. He wasn’t sure if it was simply because he was nervous, or maybe because Zane himself was bothersome to talk to. Or maybe he was a quiet person. He didn’t know anything! Because this guy wouldn’t tell him. He felt a frown forming on his face.

“How do you know Zane? I mean, like… my brother,” He inquired, voice even, trying not to show how nervous the topic made him . It was such a strange question to ask, wondering about his strange brother whom he knew nothing of besides stories his father told and the crumpled old photograph sitting at the bottom of the desk drawer. Yet, he wanted to, needed to know more. About Zane– what he was like, what he was doing… He wanted to know why his father had never returned, and perhaps, why Zane never bothered to want to meet him .

“I’m surprised it took you this long to ask about that,” Morro said bluntly.

“I did not want to… pry into your personal life. You seem adamant about not sharing,” He didn’t intend for his words to come out with a bite, but Morro seemed to not care anyway.

“Listen, you’re nice, but it’s not really any of your business, huh?” The ghost said dismissively, face darkening. He hadn’t seen much of this side of the other, the side that seemed to know far too much about the world and was not happy about it. But it did not unsettle him, to see this side of Morro. If anything, it made him feel at ease. That Morro trusted him enough to show him his honest, bitter self. It made him feel less bad about his own bitterness locked deep, deep down inside.

“My brother is my business, isn’t he? I’m not asking for your life story, simply how you’ve come to meet him,” Zane retorted, not relenting.

Morro sighed. “We fought.”

Zane stared at him, confusion no doubt written on his face.

“He’s a ninja. We were on opposite sides at some point. Get it?” Morro deadpanned, hints of annoyance lacing his words. “It wasn’t like I was friends with the guy, or something. Just saw him a couple times. I don’t know what he’s like, if that’s what you wanna know.”

“I see…” Zane trailed off, setting a hand to his chin. A ninja…? It sounds familiar, but I’m not sure… “Um,” he furrowed his brow, “What exactly is a ninja…?”

Zane only knew so much about the world, living on an isolated island. He knew the names of the birds and fish he could see from his home, the ones his father had told him about, anyhow. He knew how to repair himself, how to repair Gizmo, and other basic maintenance functions. He was preprogrammed with medical knowledge in order to assist his father’s health, and the few books in the studio provided him with a small glimpse of what the rest of the world was like.

Ninja were something he knew nothing about. Surely, it was an occupation of some sort, one that involved having… opponents? A fighter? Memories scratched at his brain, like faint dark clouds in the distance signaling an upcoming storm. Yet, nothing came to him. The only image his mind associated with the word was the crashing of the waves, and the crack of lightning.

“Ninja are like… warriors trained to fight,” Morro explained, “Your brother has a whole team he works alongside, and they protect the people of the mainland. He can also control an element, like I do.”

“I see…” Zane stored the information, processing through it quickly. “He can control the wind?”

“No, he has mastery over ice. And his friends– each of them have their own element too. Fire, earth, lightning, water…”

“Oh, I understand,” Zane nodded, processing this information as well. Elemental mastery… he had so many more questions now, all these new things to know about the outside world. He opened his mouth to ask something else, but before he could, he felt his body freeze.

Darkness encroached on his vision.

He focused on Morro’s bright-colored eyes across the table, wide with surprise, and maybe… worry? Fear? Strange emotions Zane had no time to read, his body seizing in a foreign way that made him shake involuntarily. His brain was clogging up with something, like when the water had infiltrated his body, making him sink further and further down into the depths. The darkness in his eyes came closer and closer, and he tried to reach a hand to the table, but it violently shook, and he felt the hard thump of his body hitting the ground.

What… is this…? He tried to mouth the words, but nothing came out. He wondered if he was dying, if this is what the experience his father had described all those years ago was like, or if he could even recall the words his father used to describe it. Scary. Painful. Bittersweet.

His vision felt blurry, and he could make out the shape of Morro’s face near his own, mouth moving with words he could not hear, only a loud buzzing. 

Everything went dark, and Zane heard two voices scratching against the plating of his head.

“Our friends, gone. Our world, torn apart.”

“...I don’t think we’re alone.”

------------

When Echo woke up again, he wished he was anywhere else in the world than in this damn lighthouse.

He was in his father’s bed, blankets nowhere to be found. He wasn’t sure how long he had been out for, or even why he’d been knocked out in the first place. A system overload, maybe?

New information was in his head, memories that felt so familiar yet distant, the ones haunting his dreams. He could see the faces in perfect clarity, matching each one to its voice, yet he’d never known any of these people in his life. They stood alongside him, encouraging words making him feel ill. He wished he was able to throw up, to force these thoughts outside of his body.

Turning his head, he saw Morro. The ghost stared back at him, expression unreadable.

“How long?” Echo asked, a mental tiredness entering his words. 

Echo . That was his name. The one those people gave him, during that time. Not Zane, but a name of his own. He tried not to think about the insinuations of such a name. After all, it was his and nobody else’s– for that much, he was satisfied. 

“Couple hours,” Morro replied flatly, face contorting into something furrowed. He looked away, avoiding Echo’s gaze. “...I honestly was beginning to think you’d just keeled over altogether.”

“It seems I overheated, or something of the sort. I should really refill my water tank,” He sighed, beginning to shift in order to get out of bed. He sat up, securing his feet on the ground, and stood.

…And immediately stumbled towards the floor, legs giving out.

Before he could clatter into a mess against the ground, a body pressed against his own, arms holding him steadily. Another face close to his.

Echo blinked. “Oh, sorry,” He said, dazed, Body still recovering, I guess. Sighing, he threw himself back down to sitting on the bed, brow furrowed.

Morro said nothing for a moment, then, “Uh, yeah. It’s fine,” He choked, and the strain in his voice made Echo worry for a moment that he had annoyed the other with his recklessness. He’s a guest, he shouldn’t have to look out for me like that. But I’m not sure what else to do…

Echo was about to make a request, but Morro beat him to the punch.

“Can I… uh, get you anything? Water, right?” The ghost asked, face a deeper green than usual. Oh, I hope he’s not angry… Echo thought worriedly. Of course, he would never force the other to stay here, but he also wasn’t sure he would be happy going back to being by himself again… If Morro got tired of him and left…

“There’s a spare tank next to the sink, you simply have to fill it with warm water,” Echo instructed, and Morro nodded, floating into the other room. Quickly, he returned with the tank, offering it up. Echo took it with a smile.

“I truly appreciate it.” He changed it out for the near empty one inside of him.

“Uh, yeah, sure thing. Wouldn’t want you to… do whatever that shit earlier was again,” The ghost’s words were stilted and awkward, and he kept his gaze away from the robot, as though perhaps trying to give him a sense of privacy. Considerate… he thought, still smiling lightly. Even if Morro had kind of denied the complement earlier, he had meant it honestly– the other had been nothing if not kind to him since his arrival. And all he had to offer in return was… frustrating situations and requests for favors. 

“Oh, I’m sorry about before,” Echo ducked his head, frowning. “I really don’t know what happened.”

He did. He absolutely did.

All of these new faces and voices and places and experiences were inside of his head. These people he did not know, these things he’d never seen– they were all so real to him. He didn’t know what it meant, only that it was true. The beautiful city shining against the ocean, somewhere beyond the horizon he could see from his window. The people, so many people, all bustling about their daily lives. The people who had been kind to him , that group he could see so clearly in his mind. 

But Morro didn’t have to know about that, did he? After all, the ghost kept so many secrets from him; there was nothing stopping Echo from doing the same. If anything, it was his “private business”, as Morro so often said.

“You should be more worried about yourself than me,” the ghost replied flatly, back to his usual tone. Whatever had frustrated him before appeared to be gone, which brought Echo some relief. He doesn’t hate me.  

“That’s considerate of you.”

“It’s–” Morro groaned, palm against his face, “Whatever. Just… don’t do that again. It was unsettling, okay?!” His words held just as much concern as they did anger, like a friend chiding another. A friend… Are we?

He wanted to ask.

“Morro,” Echo liked how his name sounded when he said it, like a fun secret shared among those who were close. “Are we friends?”

The ghost stared at him as though he couldn’t fathom the question. He looked away.

“If that’s what you want. I don’t have much say in the matter,” He said bluntly, expression unreadable. 

“What do you mean?” The robot asked, “Of course you have a say. If you don’t want to be friends, then–”

“It’s… it’s not that,” Morro stumbled over his words, one of the first times Echo had ever actually seen him lose his otherwise cold composure. “Just… do whatever you want, okay?”

He didn’t let Echo respond, instead slipping out of the window into the evening air, no doubt heading for the roof.

Echo blinked slowly. 

“Okay,” He responded, more to himself than anything. Then, he raised his voice, loud enough that the other would no doubt be able to hear it from above, “Well, I want to be friends! So please consider it!” 

He didn’t get a vocal response, as he expected, but instead he felt the wind blow through the window, wrapping around him as though it were a gentle hug.

Chapter Text

What am I even doing?

Morro sat, as usual, on the roof of the lighthouse, staring blankly off into the evening sun. Back hunched, he sat with his legs pulled up to his chest, head resting lightly on top. 

Those words kept playing on loop in his mind, seared into his brain.

I want to be friends.

There's no way the robot would say that if he actually knew anything about Morro. If he knew that he had fought Zane because he was the bad guy, because he was trying to hurt the nindroid and his friends, all for a stupid revenge plot. The only reason Echo gave him any semblance of respect or interest was because he didn't know any better. Did that make Morro even worse? Purposefully withholding information so that he wouldn't be immediately discarded?

Even though that's what I deserve-- what I was supposed to have. Why the hell am I here?

He let out a bellowing groan into the air, and the wind kicked up just a tad around him, shuffling debris off of the roof. Taking hold of one such piece-- a broken slat of roof, maybe?-- he chucked it into the distance as far as his strength would allow, watching its unceremonious plunk into the calm tide not too far off the shore.

This is so stupid.

Really, it's not like he learned anything substantial from his little "failure". He was still bitter, and angry, and... unsociable. And he hadn't exactly been planning to live after the Pre-Eminent pulled him under. And yet, fate and its cruel jokes weren't done with him.

He wasn't cut out for this.

Watching the waves curl in the distance, he considered his options.

I could leave. He could... Well, he was surrounded by water. He could put a true end to it all right here and now. But who was to say fate wouldn't trap him in? Send him right back onto those rocks, sprawled out in the sand and ashamed of his failure once more.

Summoning a light gust of wind to descend the height of the tower, he landed on the ground, not too far from where the ocean's spray was rhythmically hitting the shore. The waves were calmer, and the hypnotic sound of their rush and retreat made him lose himself for a moment. 

He swam once when he was a child, when Wu had errands to run closer to what was Ninjago City. Back then, it was just a larger settlement by the coastline. He begged to go with, to be able to see the ocean and the town. After all, he'd spent most of his life closer to the center of the continent, wandering the mountain villages until he found his way to the monastery.

Wu had conceded, bringing him along as they rode in on the old man's elemental dragon. And Morro saw it-- the sea, sparkling, vast and sprawling. He was given the hour it would take Wu to take care of his errands to entertain himself, and he remembered running towards it, remembered the warm embrace of the water as he tripped and toppled over into the waves, completely ruining his clothes. He remembered laughing, feeling a kinship with the sea almost as close to the one he felt with the wind.

The sea here stared back at him, coldly spraying her water towards him. He always stepped out of the way, always avoided it and kept his distance, even though his hands itched for it. He remembered drowning, the feeling of the water pouring into every piece of his being and filling him from the inside out until he felt like he could no longer breathe, his very essence being ripped apart, his death certain. 

And then he remembered the feeling of sharp ocean spray hitting him as he laid in the sand, jolting him awake in a new, unknown place that certainly wasn't the afterlife he was expecting.

He extended a hand towards the ocean, and felt a couple droplets of water from the latest wave hit his hand. It burned like touching tea to your lips a bit too early, an instinctual reaction that made his hand jolt away. But he stepped closer to the sea.

He kept stepping closer, and though he couldn't actually feel the shift from sand to rocks under his feet, he could feel the way the wind picked up around him and the way the water burned his skin and how bright the moon seemed to be. 

It takes others to make us stronger, but I..

He didn't need to be stronger- he didn't want to be stronger. He wanted to be done, to be free of destiny and it's constant torment. He wanted to leave innocent people alone, not meddle in their lives. Echo had gotten on fine, had been living comfortably, and then what? Morro had to come put these new, horrible ideas into his head? To make him question himself. Bullshit.

I'm tired of hurting people. He wanted to yell, so that they could hear him. The Cloud Kingdom, or the First Master, or something-- but he wasn't alone. And it would probably be better if he disappeared without a trace. 

Thinking I could help... what can I do? He stood where the rocks stopped, where the wind from the sea pushed behind him and where the spray was no longer little dots of water but large swathes of it against his legs, feeling like pins and needles stabbing into him. 

He felt the urge to look back at the lighthouse. At what he was abandoning, at the harm he'd probably do by leaving. But wouldn't it be much worse if he stayed? If he tried to "help"? If he tried to "be friends"? Because someone like him wasn't a friend . He wasn't helpful , he was a villain. And realizing the error of his ways hadn't changed that.

" Morro."

He could hear his teacher, his father’ s voice calling his name, reaching out his hand as the end drew near and the desperation claimed him. He could see the pity and hurt in the old man's eyes, the sweat from exhaustion and despite it all, the attempt to save Morro from himself. 

"Morro."

It was not Wu's voice. He saw nothing in front of him but the lolling waves of the ocean, mocking him. Morro turned around.

"Hey," he said quietly, avoiding eye contact with the robot who was leaning gently on a large rock, still not even fully recovered from whatever had overtaken him before. Of course he was more concerned with Morro's bullshit because he was a good person , unlike-

"The water is very pretty at this time of night," was all Echo offered, walking over to him slowly and stepping onto the rocks with careful feet. Morro nodded. They both looked at the ocean.

"Do you swim in it at all?" Morro asked, still ankle deep in splashes of water and ignoring the searing pain. 

"Not anymore," Echo replied, not elaborating further, a gentle smile on his features. He did not look at Morro, and the ghost felt his face heat up in shame, eyes dry. 

He couldn't bring himself to say anything. Echo took the opportunity to fill the silence, speaking calmly over the waves.

"I thought about it before. Swimming to the mainland, I mean," He admitted, "But I don't think I could make it that far. I mean.. I don't actually know how far it is, or what direction its in, so..."

I could take you, Is all Morro thought. But he'd already offered that before, and he was rejected. For whatever reason, the robot was insistent on staying. He didn't want to upset him. After all, who was he to come in and force him to change his life?

Causing problems again... This is why he wanted to leave. And yet...

"But I do love the sea. Besides Gizmo, it was my favorite companion..!" His smile grew a little brighter, and the moonlight reflecting off the warm metal almost made it feel as though he was... glowing, or something. Maybe Morro was going crazy (Probably). He felt mystified by the sight. By how absurd all of this was. By how his legs were burning from the water, and how he was still standing there, dumbfounded.

He was a ghost. He was a stupid boy that should have died in a cave alone somewhere and never seen the light of the moon again, let alone be given a second and third chance at making things right. He was an idiot who didn't even take that second chance, who should have been punished accordingly.  But here he was, water at his ankles and the pain far off in comparison to the sharpness of everything else. The brightness of the metal reflecting the moon, and the loud roar of the waves. 

"I wanted to leave," Morro said.

He didn't know why he said that. 

Echo stared at him for a moment, expression still a faint smile but dipping only a little, turning into something not quite happy but not quite sad either, nearly unreadable to Morro's inexperienced brain. 

He didn't know emotions . At least not many of the ones outside of anger, and fear, and disappointment, and the occasional bout of relief or happiness. He had spent his mortal years around barely anyone but an old man who was nothing but either a ray of sunshine or a grouchy loser depending on the day, and he wasn't exactly much better himself. So the expression Echo made at that moment was lost on him. 

"I won't stop you," the robot said, far too kindly for the topic. Morro had talked of abandoning him, leaving him behind like a coward- like the person who had left him originally. He should... He should be--

"Mad," Morro choked out, "Angry-- Why aren't you?" He sputtered for a minute, almost embarrassed about tripping over his words, but he struggled to contain his pure shock. Echo should be fuming right now, pushing him into the waves and watching him dissolve. Not... staring at him with a look like that.

"Anger... doesn't solve anything, I don't think," Echo said, slowly like he was testing out the words himself, "Right?" He searched Morro for some form of affirmation, bright gold eyes boreing right into the ghost's soul for a moment. Morro felt himself avoiding a response out of fear of sputtering again. 

"I... I mean, sometimes . I guess," Nevermind, he couldn't help himself. What am I saying? I don't want him to get the wrong idea... "I mean, you can be angry. When people hurt you."

"I see..." The way Echo seemed to ponder this made Morro's stomach flip uncomfortably, like he was introducing some sort of poison to the other's system (Was it possible to poison a robot? Likely not, he figured. He wasn't too sure about modern technology still). "But... if I say I'm upset with you, will you leave?"

"I don't want to leave," Morro said quickly. 

The expression Echo gave him was one he did know-- confusion, a bit of shock, maybe even annoyance. "You said-"

"I know."

"Okay," Is all the robot offered in response. "Then I suppose there isn't an issue..." He raised his brows, and began stepping down from the rocks, back onto the sand. "I will be inside. Do you want to play chess?"

"I..." Morro trailed off. How? He wanted to ask. How can you just leave it like that, like it didn't even hurt?

He wasn't sure he wanted to know. Because either this guy was really good at letting things go, or he was really bad at admitting his true feelings. And while Morro prayed to the First Master for a moment it was the former, he had the sinking feeling it was not the truth. Because he knew he himself was far closer to the second.

And if...

Echo looked at him expectantly, waiting for a response, expression once again light. Morro swallowed hard, and he was a little thankful that ghosts didn't sweat, because he feared he would look like a dying animal by now.

"Uh..." Fuck, "I.. uh," Fuck!

"You said water is dangerous for you, isn't it?" Echo said politely, pointing at Morro's legs, "You may want to step off of there. High tides coming in."

"Ah.." The ghost looked down as though this information was new, as though he didn't already know. The pain came rushing back in from where it had been a dull sting in the back of his mind, second to the storm within his thoughts. He gaped, but quickly shut his mouth and looked at Echo again.

"I want to be friends," Morro said plainly, expression stern and mouth in a tight line after he spoke. His brows furrowed.

A mix of emotions crossed the other's face. First, a slight shock, eyes glowing bright and mouth open just slightly. But then a warmth spread, a smile widening just a smidge and a softness overtaking everything on Echo's face. 

"I'm very glad to hear that. You are a far better companion than even the sea," He replied gently, "But I fear there won't be much left of you if you remain standing there," there was a light laugh to his voice, and Morro felt his face darken in embarrassment again. His legs probably looked like that one cheese full of holes at this point. 

"Nn.. right," he mumbled, stepping down onto the sand and away from the water, feeling the sting begin to fade from his senses. It felt odd for a moment, given how long he'd been standing there. But also.. he was reminded how good it felt. To not be in pain, to feel safe and comfortable.

It was very strange, this island. Perhaps it was because he was free of the Pre-Eminent's influence, of the ninja hunting him down, of Lloyd's constant inner turmoil-- but he felt almost at peace , like he had nothing else he needed to do but be here , and that was fine. And if it was actually... okay for him to be here... maybe it wasn't so wrong of him to indulge in that. But for now, he was still unnerved about asking directly.

Indulging myself in something like this... I wonder if it's really okay for someone like me.

"So.." Echo interrupted his thoughts, looking at him expectantly again as they began their way back towards the lighthouse stairs. 

I guess it's not entirely about me, either. He'd forgotten how strange it was to have another person around, someone to consider the feelings of. There was nobody like that in the Cursed Realm, and certainly not when he left.

Morro felt a laugh rising in his throat, simple but carefree. Echo raised a brow at him, confused, but the ghost only shook his head. 

" Yes ," he conceded, remnants of a smile on his face, "Let's play chess."

------------

Thunder cracked outside. 

The sound of the heavy rain atop the lighthouse roof was almost comforting, in a way. Even if it was simultaneously just as frightening. Echo had assured Morro that the roof was stable, that it'd survived many similar and worse storms before without issue, but the couple leaks that did spring across the loft counteracted that verbal comfort quite easily.

The steady beat of water dripping into a bucket not too far from him was unnerving, but he tried to focus his attention on the game. He'd been thinking over this move for several minutes now-- Echo had taken the opportunity to go try and find tarps to cover the windows, a bit annoyed at having to move his father's precious items out of the way of the rain.

Yet, with all this extra time... He played a move in his head, hand ghosting over the board. No, that's easily countered...

"Agh.. why is this game so hard?!" He groaned, pushing back his bangs with a free hand as he leaned his elbow on the table. He wasn't quite in hot water yet, but he was certain in a few turns Echo would do as he always did and quickly end the match.

At least I lasted longer this time... Better than his first stint with the fool's mate, for sure. But since then he'd practically learned the whole book of bad chess moves through experience alone, trying and failing to call upon his previous experience as a child to prevent such things. As it turned out, Wu did not often seriously play against him.

"Have you decided yet?" Echo's voice and head popped up from the stairwell, and Morro looked over at him as he tossed a pile of what tarps made of a material he didn't recognize. Looked a bit shiny, but durable. He'd have to ask about it later. 

Instead, he let out a grumble, "I think that being a machine is cheating at chess," he muttered, half-accusingly. 

Echo smiled at him amusedly, "Perhaps. But my software is not necessarily the most advanced. I would say I'm not any smarter than most humans," He spoke as he began covering the windows, and the lack of visual of the rain made Morro a little less uneasy. 

"Yeah, whatever you say," the ghost grumbled again, and Echo laughed, putting up the last tarp and returning to his seat across the board. Morro stared down at his own pieces, frowning. 

"Fuck it, I'll bite. Rook B8."

"Queen to C6. Checkmate," Echo replied almost immediately, an apologetic smile on his face. "You always forget about the queen."

"Who cares about a stupid old lady," Morro began resetting the pieces, setting the very few he actually captured back onto the board.

"I would if she kept checkmating me," The robot hummed in response, doing the same. "You have been improving a lot, but you will not see significant change unless you start considering the entire board with every move, Morro. If you only focus on the small sections, you'll overlook your own weaknesses."

"Hm," he knew this was practical advice for any strategy game, not just chess, but it annoyed him in some ways-- he found that focusing on the bigger picture always frustrated him further. But the other was right. He was just going to keep losing without doing so.

"Let's take a break," Echo suggested, and Morro blinked in surprise. Normally he was the one who suggested a break, and the other reluctantly agreed. Echo seemed to sense this thought, "I wanted to make some tea. This kind of weather always makes me feel like reading a good book."

"You have books here?" This shouldn't have been a surprise to him. The robot's creator was a scientist, after all. They were very booksmart, right? Though he couldn't imagine science books to be very interesting... at least not to him.

"Not that many. My father had a penchant for adventure novels, so he managed to acquire some from those who put him here," Echo had gotten up now, trailing over to the kitchenette and filling a kettle to boil. "Do you like reading?"

"It's... fine," Morro didn't hate it, but he also couldn't remember the last time he'd actually read a book. It wasn't like the Cursed Realm had them, and most of what Wu owned was old scrolls with weird prophecies and shit written on them. The man had a small actual library, and while he had taught Morro to read, the boy often neglected his studies in favor of his training. 

Yeah. Look where that got me. Maybe if he'd actually read a damn book, he wouldn't be a ghost. 

"You're welcome to read one then, if you want. I know you prefer the roof at this time of day, but, well..." Echo shrugged, and after he put the kettle on, he made his way over to a small shelf covered mostly in stacked blueprints and trinkets. Tucked in a corner, Morro could see a small handful of old books, the binding worn from generous use.

"Ah.. they're not in the best condition," Echo apologized, grabbing the stack and setting it down on the table beside the chessboard. "I've.. read them quite a lot." 

Morro eyed them close up, and they looked even worse than they did on the shelf. He could clearly imagine the amount of use these books got, given how long the robot appeared to have been here by himself. He felt his stomach churning.

"Any recommendations?" 

Echo's smile returned and he began sorting through the pile, "I quite like this one. It's about an older gentleman who calls himself a knight and embarks on various quests, but he's actually just stirring up trouble!" He chuckled and handed the worn book to Morro, who inspected it. The letters on the cover had become quite faded, so he could only half make out the title. 'Don' something.

"What are you gonna read?" Morro set down 'Don' and watched Echo sift through the rest of the pile, lips pursed as he considered his options. He ended up picking one of the lesser worn ones, a book with a plain light blue cover speckled by an old coffee stain and some dirt.

"This one is about an adventure at sea, so I'll admit I haven't read it much... To me, I'm more interested in adventures exploring the land," Echo explained, and the tea kettle whistled in the background. The robot let out a small 'Oh!' and got up to grab it, leaving Morro to see the book for himself.

He wondered how much reading ability he had left, given how long it'd been. He cracked open the blue book and looked over the first page. The text was small, but not too worn that it wasn't legible. 

Call... me… He made out the first two words. The third one stumped him a bit-- he didn't remember what some of the characters were, and he couldn't figure out what it was based off of the other letters either. 

Echo sat back down with a tea cup, setting it on the table gently. Morro tried to make it look like he was actually reading, but he felt like he probably just looked like an idiot. 

"Did you want to read that one? I'll read something else," The robot didn't seem to think otherwise, and Morro quickly closed the book with a bit more of a thump than he anticipated.

"No, you wanted to read this. I was just checking it out," he held it out for the other, but Echo didn't take it. Instead, he shifted in his seat and moved over to sit beside Morro on the bench. The ghost nearly recoiled and moved away from the closeness, his gut instinct telling him this was a vulnerability, but he steeled himself-- there was no reason to act like an idiot. 

"We can read it together, that's fine," Echo said matter of factly, pushing the chessboard to a further side of the table to make room for the book to be opened in front of them. Morro couldn't muster a response-- he just nodded, and looked down at the pages without reading. So many of the letters were lost on him now, he felt bad for even wasting the other's time like this.

They sat in comfortable silence for several minutes, interrupted by the occasional crack of thunder outside, the rhythmic beat of the rain, and the quiet turning of the page. Morro had stopped bothered trying to keep up with the reading-- he wasn't about to ask to slow down, either. 

Instead he just found himself trying to ignore the... friendliness of it all. Of sitting next to another person, sharing a book. He couldn't remember the last time he was so close to another that wasn't him actively trying to *hurt* them. It felt strange, but not wrong. Just... weird. 

He was almost reminded of his childhood for a moment, comfortable days spent living at the monastery where he knew he would not have to fight for his food or go without sleeping in order to protect himself. Where he was given leisurely time to discover hobbies, to train, to rest... He'd forgotten what such a feeling of-- what should he call it, safety ?-- was like.  

Even if his arrival on the island had been abrupt, and he still had many questions he was sure he wouldn't find answers to, he felt some kind of inner peace in his chest. It made him a bit antsy at first to feel like he didn't have to prove anything, that he had a place to be without fighting for it... But now he'd grown accustomed to the feeling. Accustomed to Echo, who seemed to welcome him without judgement or expectation of greatness. 

Because he doesn't know...

And it was those thoughts Morro tried to put to rest. Maybe I should tell him. To see if this is really a place for someone like me. But then what? If he's rejected, go toss himself into the sea?

Might not be a bad plan...

But he found himself craving the safety and comfortableness of this strange new situation. He'd repressed his homesickness for years now, focused only on progressing his goals of proving himself. Who was he now, if he had nothing to prove?

Just... myself. I guess.

"Hey, Morro," a voice interrupted his thoughts, and he looked beside him, where Echo was still focused on the book. His hands were shaking. "Could you..."

He didn't finish that sentence, and Morro moved on a reflexive instinct to catch the robot who was falling out of a seated position. 

"What's wrong?" Morro felt a small flare of panic set into him, but quickly calmed himself. Weight against his incorporeal body always felt strange-- he could materialize himself in order to interact with objects, but he didn't feel them. At least not .. normally. But the weight of the robot that had fallen into his shoulder, the one he was carefully trying to readjust so he could move, felt almost warm on him. 

Warmth was one of the things that seemed to be accessible to even ghosts. He remembered the searing pain of the realm crystal after the fire ninja had heated it up and tossed it to him-- the shock of it made him drop it in the first place. But this was not nearly so hot, more like the comfortable warmth of hands held close to a fire.

But it was getting colder fairly quick, and the usual small bouts of steam which left Echo's body at regular intervals were getting smaller and smaller. Ah, the water tank. He gently moved the other to be laying down on the bench, and made his way over to the sink.

The spare tank he'd swapped out not too long ago was still there, and he filled it quickly. He didn't... exactly know how to replace it, but he could surely figure it out. He'd watched Echo do it, after all.

So, with a filled tank in hand, he went back over, finding Gizmo perched atop the table and beeping at him.

"What, you wanna do it?" He barked at the little robot, who beeped offensively back at him. "I don't think you'll get far with those little claws of yours, stupid."

Morro set the tank down beside him and leaned in to look closer at Echo's chest cavity. He'd never really... looked at it, and even though he didn't know much about mechanics, he could tell when something wasn't in good condition. The smell of rust permeated everything. 

Gizmo pointed at a fixture towards the back of the cavity, a cylinder identical to the tank Morro just filled, and he nodded. So the little robot could be a helper after all. But how did he get it out..? Just like, remove it?

Here goes, I guess, He took hold of the thing and pulled, and was a little shocked at how easily it came out. For the kind of condition Echo was in, he was worried he would break something. Then I guess it just... goes in the same way, right?

On that assumption, he inserted the freshly filled tank of water, and waited. After a moment, he could hear the muffled bubbling of water being heated, and shortly after that the telltale puffs of steam that followed Echo everywhere he went.

The other's eyes, which had been frozen in an unsettling state of openness, blinked a few times, and returned to their usual dull yellow glow. 

"I'm terribly sorry about that," was the first thing he said, and Morro let out a small huff of air. "I was so engrossed in reading that I lost track of my own status, I suppose..." Something about that answer didn't feel right, but he wasn't going to press on it.

"It's fine," Morro replied calmly, brow furrowed. "I'm just glad I didn't fuck anything up."

"Ah, yes..." Echo trailed off for a moment, sitting up a bit and supporting himself with his elbow and looking down towards his chest. "Th.. thank you, Morro. I appreciate it."

Morro followed his line of sight, and realized why his hand felt warm-- it was still laid on the other's chest. He quickly retrieved it as though he'd been burned, and Echo blinked slowly, sitting all the way up.

"Your, um, gears- is that what they're called? Your gears are very rusty," Morro said, hesitantly and holding his own hand. "You should replace them, right? Isn't that how it works?"

Echo gave him a lopsided smile, "I ran out of repair materials some time ago, unfortunately. My father didn't foresee me being here as long as I have been. Once he returns, it will be the first thing I'll have him do."

If he returns , Morro thought, a bit bitter. That old man definitely wasn't coming back. If anything, he was probably dead at this point. 

"Making you steam powered and made out of copper didn't seem like a smart idea in the long run," He said absentmindedly. He didn't intend for it to be a slight on the doctor, but it certainly came out that way. What? He wasn't wrong.

"That's... my father did the best he could with what he had. I was built for companionship and protection above all else, so high maintenance was reasonable at the time," Echo replied defensively, brow furrowed. "I couldn't possibly imagine what he went through, being by himself and away from his son.."

"Huh," Is all the ghost mumbled in response, and Echo sighed. 

"I would retire for the night, but given the weather, you can't go on the roof, can you?"

"I mean..." Morro trailed off, glancing at the windows covered in tarps. He'd been subconsciously redirecting the stronger wind currents around the lighthouse, making sure they didn't blow the covering away. But he definitely couldn't redirect the rain itself. "That's true... But it's fine. You'll go through that entire tank in an hour or two if you don't power down for the night."

"I insist. I'd hate to see you be alone for the rest of the storm," Echo stared at him a bit intensely, and he felt bad denying him this, even if it wouldn't do him any good in the long run. "What if the rain gets in?"

"It's really..." He had the wind to redirect any stray raindrops, but he had a feeling he wasn't going to win this. The robot was insistent on staying up. Whatever, I guess...

"You're welcome to continue reading with me, if you'd like," The other said simply, shuffling to where he was before and picking up the light blue book again. He didn't look at Morro again after that, and the ghost felt acutely aware of himself for some reason. 

What a strange disposition... He sighed and sat back down on the bench beside Echo, peering at the pages of the book he still didn't care to read. It felt like the other was going even faster now, turning the pages at a rate so fast that Morro questioned if Echo was even reading the pages. But it didn't bother him. After all, he was only here for the comfortable atmosphere that shortly returned as they settled back into the stormy night.

------------

Around four or five in the morning, the rain stopped. Echo finally conceded to taking a break, putting the book down and retiring to the bed behind the curtains in the corner of the room. 

Morro took the opportunity to perch himself on the roof, watching the sunrise. The ocean was calm and the sky was clear, with no evidence of the strong weather that had ravaged the island the night before. Glancing down at the beach, he could make out a couple shingles that had blown off the roof, but nothing too serious. 

The water reflecting the warm pinks and oranges of the sky was soothing, in a way. Didn't think I'd ever say that about water... But it was how he felt-- he couldn't help but feel a connection with the sea, even stronger now that he'd spent so much time around it.

Wu had always told him that his own element, wind, was closely tied to the element of water. That the First Spinjitsu Master had never learned how to control it, and it had been thought to be lost before he came into the older man's life. 

To master an element that even the First Spinjitsu Master couldn't... Wu had always said it required a great deal of power and skill. That Morro's innate talent was one of the reasons he believed he could be...

Stupid, He thought angrily. Not at Wu, but at himself. I can't believe I said all of that to Lloyd. I must have sounded like a total loser.

His insistence on being better, on earning the green gi... No, he was nothing but an idiot. An idiot who got too wrapped up in himself, in his power fantasy. 

But it's done now, isn't it? It's all so far away… He looked out to the sea, the one he'd spent many days staring at from this very lighthouse, and he saw something. 

It wasn't too uncommon to see ships. After all, this was an ocean. But Echo had confirmed many times this island was on the western coast, which wasn't exactly a bustling trade route-- the only thing off of it was the Dark Island. So seeing a ship out this far meant it was being piloted by idiots. 

It didn't appear too far away, perhaps a few hours time if it came directly towards the island. He couldn't tell the direction it was heading with the way the sun blocked half of it out. 

Whatever... it'll probably sink, and then Echo will have more parts for repairing the lighthouse. The robot had regaled him many times with how he would find scraps of washed up wrecks and search them for materials worth using. About how he sometimes found bodies he would have to push back out to sea, and how he had thought Morro was one such body.

"Yeah, good thing he didn't try to put me back in the water," Morro chuckled to himself quietly, laying back on the roof with his arms folded behind his head. With the sun in his eyes, he found himself dozing off a bit…

He didn't know how long had passed when he woke again, blinking slowly at the sun which had risen higher in the sky. About midday, then...

It was a loud thump from within the lighthouse which had woken him, and he had half a mind to ignore it and chalk it up as Echo dropping something, but his gut felt wrong. 

The ship on the horizon looked closer now, and he pushed it to the back of his mind as he hopped down into the studio, the sun suddenly feeling hot on his back. 

"Hey, is everything good?" He asked into the air, but his question went unanswered. 

Because there on the floor, unmoving, was a certain robot.

Chapter Text

Morro stood for a moment, stunned and panicking, before collecting himself. 

It’s just an empty tank. I refilled it last night, so I can do it again . He couldn’t say the sight hadn’t shaken him for a moment, but with a renewed swiftness he leaned down on his knees to turn the other over and access his chest cavity. Pull it together.

Although he thought he’d been careful, the clattering of metal on the ground said otherwise. A bolt had struck the wooden floor and rolled off, and Morro heard Gizmo running after it. A scraping noise made him cringe as he watched one of Echo’s arms dislocate and snap off entirely, thunking on the ground as well.

Shit. Can I fix that?

The arm could wait, if he could at least get the other functioning, the robot would likely have some solutions. Morro dug for the water tank, trying his best to avoid bumping anything important as he pulled it out, but he still noted a couple gears tumbling loose when they made contact with the tank. If only he could make it intangible like his hands… It seemed whatever good luck had been holding all of those rusted parts together was finally gone.

It’s fine, it’s fine, The ghost quickly made his way to the sink to fill the tank, hissing when some of the water splashed onto his fingers carelessly. He nearly dropped the whole thing, but gripped onto it despite the sharp pain. It’s fine! He felt his teeth grit and manually forced his body to stop freaking out, exhaling sharply. Pull it together! He wasn’t sure what had shaken him so bad- the sight of the other completely collapsed on the floor, or the thought that it could be something more serious. 

Over the sound of the water, he wasn’t sure if he heard a thump from below. That better not be another arm .

“Gizmo!” Morro called behind him, and he heard a couple arrogant beeps in response. He almost uselessly cupped his hand beneath the tank to stop water from spilling too much, but a couple droplets stinging his palm stopped him. He grit his teeth and looked around for the little robot, who was currently trying to assemble the various gears and bolts which had come loose. So he was capable of being helpful.

“Do you know how to fix them?” He stared incredulously at the little cleaner robot, who only beeped solemnly in response. Morro could only assume that was a solid ‘no’, and frowned. “Then Echo does, right?” He realized it was his first time speaking the other’s name out loud, the one he’d come up with in his head. Would Gizmo even know who he was talking about? He got a couple beeps in response, urgently trying to direct his attention to the water tank slipping out of his grasp.

“Oh,” Morro let Gizmo hold it for a moment as he pulled Echo up into his lap to get a better angle, worried about water spilling out into his chest. Gizmo handed him the tank, and using what he remembered from the night before, he put it in carefully. After a few moments, there were small puffs of steam emitting from the exhaust pipes across his body, but unlike before, there was no motion or sign of life. 

Shit. Not good.

What was he supposed to do now? He wasn’t a… robotist, or doctor, or whatever they called the people in this time period who worked with robots. He didn’t even know anyone who was. Can I go to the ninja? He knew they had, well, Zane. But he didn’t know who did Zane’s maintenance. The other ninja? A third party? Would Zane know anything about fixing this? He didn’t know how similar the two were built, given he was fairly certain the ice ninja wasn’t powered by steam. Then again, maybe he was, or…

I shouldn’t even care this much, a voice in the back of his mind said bitterly. I should just take this opportunity to leave, guilt-free, right? The robot had been abandoned here for a reason. Nobody knew about him, and he never intended to leave. This would’ve happened eventually regardless of Morro’s presence, so wasn’t it his duty to leave Echo to the fate they wished for?
But they had been nothing but kind to him. He had no reason to be, no motive, and yet he was. And Morro felt like he had to repay him for that somehow. Even if kindness was not necessarily his strong suit.

He held the robot in his lap for a moment and continued to brainstorm, but his thoughts were interrupted by a loud thunk beneath the floorboards, from the lower levels of the lighthouse. A quick once over of the body told him it definitely wasn’t a limb falling off… There’s something down there.

He listened quietly, mostly to the wind.

It carried a handful of voices from the main floor at the very bottom, vague words he could make out along the lines of ‘something here’ and ‘up the stairs’.

Shit. Who is that? The Dr. Julien he’d heard so much about? The ninja? He tossed his head towards one of the windows to perhaps catch sight of the telltale flying ship, but there was nothing but clear skies. Whoever was here had arrived the good old fashioned way by boat, and… 

Ah, that ship I saw earlier. They were headed this way?

Echo had mentioned at some point or other that they occasionally got curious sailors who anchored off the shore, especially when storms were rolling in. Apparently there was a secret basement Morro had never seen that he stowed himself up in when strangers came, not wanting to interact with potentially dangerous folk. But he couldn’t do that now– he was completely vulnerable. Morro looked down at the robot in his lap and frowned. He couldn’t possibly hide him anywhere up here, and not without losing several more parts. And downstairs was where the strangers were– so what was he meant to do?
I can’t… leave him here.

Gizmo was now beeping frantically and zipping towards the trapdoor that led to the stairwell, and Morro listened intently to hear heavy footsteps treading up the old stairs. Growing closer by the minute, voices becoming clearer and clearer. Now he could hear the distinct conversation, what sounded like around three or four people. 

“What should I do-?” He looked to Gizmo a bit frantically, who beeped back at him offensively and went to hide in a corner. Unhelpful little cretin.

So it was just him and Echo, unconscious, in the middle of the room. Soon to be faced by potentially dangerous strangers.

I’ll fight them, he thought decidedly. Then shook his head. Or, maybe not.

As he listened to the voices, he could certainly recognize none of them belonged to the ninja. Sailors, maybe. One of them sounded quite deep and gruff, and the others weren’t much more chipper. They probably wanted to stop and see if there was someone who could give them supplies or shelter. If they saw there was nothing for them here, would they leave?

Perhaps the person he used to be would have no gripes about attacking random sailors, but now he felt a little pang of guilt about it. Which disgusted him only slightly. They’re not trying to do anything bad. I can watch and see what they do– if I need to, I’ll defend Echo. This seemed to him like the best course of action for now.

Gently setting the robot down onto the floor, he was careful not to let anything else important fall, and Gizmo had gathered all of the scattered pieces before hiding, so they were in a neat pile not too far away from where Echo was laid. Morro set him on his back this time, though. Looked less like a dead body that way.

He felt the urge to say something, gaze lingering on his… companion, for a moment. Friend? Can I call him that? It had been a contentious topic, but perhaps it was time for him to relent. What they had was akin to friendship, and he had told the other he wanted to be friends. So, he looked at his friend , words dying in his throat as the silence was filled with the ever-present shifting of gears and huffs of steam.

The creaking and voices grew nearer, and Morro swallowed down the rest of his anxiety, turning himself invisible and seating himself next to where Echo lay, legs folded beneath him as he set his sights on the trapdoor. Whoever was down there would be emerging any moment now, and he needed to be in a prime position to strike, just in case. In case… He briefly thought about the times when he still believed he had a greater destiny, when Wu’s brother would visit home and Morro would find himself on edge, tip-toeing around the monastery in case today was the day the final battle started.

“Finally, the top! Feels like we’ve been climbing for hours ,” An exasperated voice called out, the trap door swinging open with a certain excitement and thumping against the floorboards.

“If that’s gotten you tired, I hate to say you’re out of shape, Luke!” A deeper, jollier voice laughed, and Morro watched as a rather tired looking man with wild white haired crawled out of the trap door, followed by a redhead. They waited by the opening for a moment, and after a moment a rather large man poked his head in, easily pulling himself up and settling into the room as well. 

“Not out of shape, you’re just ridiculously in shape ,” The white-haired man, who Morro assumed was “Luke” retorted, and the larger man chuckled again. Morro had to agree with him. Hopefully if he were to get into a fight, it wouldn’t be a physical one, because he did not want to be in a match against someone with arms the size of his whole body. 

While lost in thought, he hadn’t realized the trio was staring directly at him. Or rather, who was beside him. They all drew close, and he kept his ground. They would go through him, after all.

“What’s this? Some kinda machine?” The redhead was the first to get over, wiry and curious figure he was. Morro could now see he had some kind of face paint on, white and black in an image of a skeleton. I don’t like that. He felt himself tense, and shuffled a little closer to where Echo was, careful not to move him, but so that he was more between him and the three strangers.

“Looks like it,” Luke said as he joined his companion, squatting down and beginning to reach for one of Echo’s arms, but seemingly noticing how frail the body was and retracting himself. “Killow, you’re good with this kind of stuff. What d’ya think?”

They both moved out of the way as the large man, Killow, made his way over from where he’d been inspecting some discarded blueprints on one of the many desks that belonged to Echo’s father. He made a deep ‘hmm’ as he laid eyes on the robot, face (which was also painted, Morro noted) scrunched up. 

“Ain’t that the Ice Ninja?” He asked the other two. They both shrugged.

“Can’t say I look at pictures of those guys often. Is that the robot one?” The redhead scratched the back of his neck.

“Yeah, but I think he’s silver or something, isn’t he? This one’s copper.”

“Hmm…” Killow said again, leaning down more and, surprisingly, gently taking Echo’s dislocated arm into his hand. “It’s just rusty. Is that the gears running making that noise in there?” He pointed towards the main body, and Luke nodded.

“Steam-powered or something. I can hear it.”

“Huh!” Killow raised his brows, “Interesting. Nobody’s used steam power in Ninjago for over twenty years now. Surprised that this guy’s still running.” Morro hung onto his words. Twenty years. Was that how long ago Echo was made, or was it before then? He didn’t have a clear timeline of how long Echo had been in this lighthouse, but he’d started counting the tallies on the wall one day when he was bored. The doctor had been here for quite some time.

“You think he’s worth taking back? Maybe he knows something about the Ice Ninja,” The redhead suggested, and Luke put a hand to his chin, and then looked at Killow. I guess he’s the one in charge here. Makes sense, Morro thought idly, still remaining defensive with one palm pressed against Echo’s shoulder. He’d briefly considered the possibility of possessing the robot and using him to fend off the intruders, and perhaps escaping with him. But where would he go? Clearly this Killow fellow knew something about robots, or technology at least. If he could fix Echo, then…

“Well, I found a couple interesting blueprints,” Killow said, motioning to the desk he was looking at earlier. “Skeleton army’s stuff. Our tipper was right about one thing, and the Quiet One will be satisfied with me repurposing some of the designs. I’m sure they won’t mind a personal project,” The man reasoned, and the other two nodded.

They’re going to take him, Morro thought, both relieved and feeling all sorts of new anxieties. Who was this ‘Quiet One’ exactly? What kind of organization did these people work with that they were going after belongings of the Skeleton Army of all things? 

He looked back over at Echo, expression almost serene as he lay unconscious on the ground. The spot where his palm met the metal felt warm, and his anxieties quelled just the tiniest bit. It’s fine, as long as he gets fixed. We can figure it out from there.

The men began to collect what they were going to take with them. Various blueprints and old oddities they seemed to find interesting. They even seemed to find what appeared to be Echo’s own blueprints, and Killow accepted them from the redhead with a delighted vigor.

“It really does say ‘Zane’ on it…” Luke trailed off, peering over them, “I guess he’s like a prototype, or something.”

“It’s a mystery, isn’t it? I’m a tad excited to find out,” Killow said cheerily, and he instructed his companions to gather the pieces of Echo which had fallen off in a spare empty box, while he personally picked up and carried the robot to avoid anything else breaking. Morro felt another pang of anxiety, and something else he couldn’t place, watching this stranger carry his friend away.

They began to bring things down the stairs again, their work done. Morro needed to follow him, but something else was important too– Echo would never forgive him if he left behind Gizmo.

Once the trap door was closed and the sound of footsteps was fading, Morro made himself visible again, flitting around in the air trying to spot the small bot.

“Hey, little shit , where did you get off to?” He called quietly, not sure if the men would be able to hear him. After a few moments, he got a couple hesitant beeps in response as the robot peered from behind the nightstand. “There you are.”

Without hesitation, he grabbed the cleaner bot into his hands, and it beeped profusely at him as he hopped out of the window, letting the wind carry him lightly down onto the sand. 

Just as he thought, he saw the ship from before anchored just off of the rocks. It wasn’t a large vessel, just a small ship, probably privately chartered. He knew from listening to residents of Stiix that Ninjago City had a big business for that– after all, the ocean was the fastest way to get around the continent. 

He saw the three men exit the lighthouse and quickly turned himself invisible, and Gizmo, clearly visible, started beeping and knocked his hands away, running across the sand quickly once it spotted them holding his friend.

Shit. Hopefully I don’t have to explain to Echo that these guys kicked his robot into the ocean, Morro frowned, rushing after it. The three men seemed to spot the little bot chasing after them, because they stopped in their tracks about to board the ship.

“Now who’s this fellow?” Killow was the one to speak up, unable to get down for a closer look due to holding Echo in his hands. Gizmo beeped up at them angrily, motioning towards where Echo lay, and Killow laughed heartily.

“You’re his friend? Not to worry! We’re going to go fix him up,” He assured the robot, and Gizmo stopped his aggression, letting out a curious chirp instead, and seemingly observing the ship docked a few feet away. He pointed at it.

“You want to come? Hop aboard, little fellow!” Killow said and motioned for the small bot to lead the way up the boarding plank. The robot obliged and zipped up the wood onto the ship, the trio following close behind. Morro followed as well from a few feet away, still invisible and wary as he glanced over the sides of the deck. Water. It made him just a little nauseous, but he would be fine– After all, he was doing this for the sake of his newfound friend. He was sure if their positions were reversed, Echo would easily have done the same. Which made him feel something strange in the pit of his stomach, but was oddly comforting as well.

Killow deposited Echo onto a bench inside the cabin of the ship, and Morro sat down beside him, taking the excuse to be away from the water but also to keep an eye on his friend. It had been a long time since he’d been back on the mainland, and his last appearance wasn’t necessarily… a good one, so to speak. And this would be Echo’s first time there, finally out of that drab lighthouse for the first time in his entire life.

He can’t even say goodbye, Morro felt a little guilty about it. About the fact that Echo had seemed so insistent on never leaving, yet here he was, being taken against his will to somewhere unknown and far away. That Morro had allowed it. Hopefully he’s not too upset.

“Next stop, Ninjago City,” he heard Killow say from outside on the deck, likely to one of his companions.

Ninjago City. That’s where we’re headed.

He looked down at Echo’s calm expression, blissfully unaware of how drastically things were changing around him. Yet he felt a little at peace, knowing that no matter what happened from here, at least he was not alone at this moment.

------------

“I need your help,” The blue ninja held him by the shoulders, desperation in his eyes as he seemed to hold himself together by a thread. Echo smiled faintly, setting a hand on the other’s messy hair.

“Of course,” He said, “I am built to protect those who cannot protect themselves.”

Jay smiled back at him. 

When Echo awoke, he felt heavy. 

His systems felt… off. They weren’t the most extensive in the first place, but he was at least capable of running basic diagnostic checks on his power source and his limbs. But he was getting strange readings from his arm, and a couple spots in his chest. 

A glance at his arm told him the answer– it had been changed out for something a bit darker and certainly cleaner than the metal he was made out of. He couldn’t tell the material at a first glance, but it did not look permanent. More like a temporary fix, attached as a quick solution until a better one could be found.

Who did…

The last thing he remembered was getting a low water level warning from his internal systems. He had been practicing some new chess strategies with Gizmo, and he had gotten up to go refill his tank. It went dark from there. And now he was somewhere he did not recognize. It looked like a garage, maybe.

The walls were a dark stone-like material he was unfamiliar with. The entire space was only illuminated by a few rectangular lights on the ceiling (he could not see the light bulbs in them, so he assumed they were gigantic square-shaped light bulbs). He was on some kind of workbench, and he could make out what seemed like giant… boards on the wall? Displaying all sorts of information, yet the visuals on them changed and moved. He’d never seen anything like it.

The thought excited him, just a little.

I must be somewhere besides home. Is this what the rest of the world is like?

So many new things, all in this room alone. There was a cart filled with tools, and he recognized many of them, though they seemed to be more advanced than the old worn set his father kept on the shelf. He also spotted his old arm across the room, idle on a table besides the glowing, flashing boards.

Did Morro find me and bring me here? He imagined the strange ghost discovering him knocked out on the floor and grimaced. He was probably worried… Or maybe not. It was hard to tell if the other liked him at all sometimes. After all, he tried to…

Echo shook his head. Morro told him he wanted to be friends, so he would take his word and try to believe him. 

…But it was getting harder to ignore these new memories in his head. They slowly came back to him, trickling in like water from a leaking pipe. Names, faces, events… Things that felt so real , yet seemed to not be– After all, the blue ninja had taken him out of the lighthouse. He had seen his brother, friendly and kind. They promised him a future, a family.

There was no way they would put him back there. 

I made it all up.

He sat up using his new arm, looking at it carefully. Morro certainly didn’t create it for him– the ghost knew less about technology than he did, which was saying a lot.

Where am I, then…?
“Morro?” Echo called out into the air. He knew the ghost had the ability to go invisible, so perhaps he was somewhere unable to be seen. A few seconds passed, but there was no response. The robot felt his gears ache.

Did he…leave? It felt like a betrayal to think that, but it was the most reasonable explanation. Bring Echo somewhere, leave him, and the ghost was free to go like he seemed to want, no strings attached. After all, he was almost certainly only staying at the lighthouse for Echo’s sake, regardless of the claims he made otherwise. Why would anyone willingly want to be in that lighthouse? It was too hard to believe.

A clicking sound, and light from somewhere else filled the room. The door was open.

Echo thought his head was going to fall off with how fast he swung his head around, eyes straining in the darkness to make out the figure standing in the doorway. For a moment, he thought it was Morro– that he was still here, that he hadn’t left. But as they approached, door shut behind them and cloak fanning out around their legs, the flash of a white mask under the lights, he knew his hopes were false. 

“You’re awake!” They said excitedly, and now they were right by the side of the workbench, setting dark gloved hands down on the open space. This person had a black cloak and hood on, obscuring their clothing and hair, as well as a scary mask covering their face. It had blue markings and beady yellow eyes, and Echo felt a little nervous under its gaze, even if the person seemed friendly enough.

“...Where am I? Who are you?” Was what he decided to ask. It wa

straightforward enough.

“Right, I guess you’d want to know,” The figure turned her head to the side to glance at the glowing boards, and seemed to be satisfied with something. They removed their mask, clipping it somewhere on their belt, and took their hood off. Now, Echo could make out much more about this person; dark, nearly black eyes stared at him from under snow white bangs, slightly sharp teeth grinning. “My name is Harumi.”

“I’m…” Echo trailed off for a minute, and Harumi stared at him intently, as though she were more interested in whatever he was about to say than anything else in the world. What should I say? If I’m on the mainland, surely they will know Zane, if he’s a hero as Morro said… But, my name… “I’m Echo. I’ve been called that.”

“Echo, I like it,” Harumi said, smiling. It seemed genuine. “I’m glad to see you’re doing okay. You were brought in pretty rough shape,” She motioned to his new arm, and he felt a little embarrassed. It can’t be helped, I suppose…

“You are responsible for this arm?” He asked, lifting it up and observing it closer, clenching and unclenching the joints and getting a feel for it. “If so, I appreciate it.”

“Oh, I didn’t make it. I’m not the best with robotics, that was my comrade,” Harumi explained, and Echo nodded along. “I’m better at the coding part. But that’s just a temporary arm, material-wise. We didn’t have the time to make you something permanent, and it would require upgrading… a couple other things, too.”

Their tone felt a little more serious there, and Echo set his new hand over his chest, which had long since lost its covering. His inner workings were exposed to the world for several years now, collecting far more rust and wear than they did before. No wonder he shut down so badly– his body couldn’t even function anymore.

“Yes, I am… A bit outdated, aren’t I?” He said solemnly, looking over at the glowing boards. Surely they were some kind of newer technology, just like his arm. How far had the world come since his creation? He recalled the image of his brother he saw in his dreams– shining, well put together. He looked nothing like the photo his father kept in the desk, where he looked near human. Perhaps at some point he had chosen to get an upgrade, too.

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Harumi assured him, “But that’s beside the point, isn’t it? I’m sure you’re still wondering about where we are.”
“Ah…” Echo had nearly forgotten, so lost in his thoughts. “I was wondering that, yes.”

“We’re under Ninjago City, in an old abandoned subway platform. This is where our headquarters is,” Harumi explained, walking over to one of the glowing boards. Echo followed her with his gaze. Ninjago City… I was here once, in my dreams.

“Headquarters…” Echo repeated the word, trying to make sense of it. He wasn’t sure it was one he was familiar with, but he could make an educated guess. “You are a part of an organization?”
“You could say that,” The other replied, tapping some buttons near the glowing board. Echo watched in amazement as the visual changed entirely to what appeared to be a picture of the city they were beneath. Tall buildings littered across the horizon, Echo could imagine the little people working within them. He remembered running across those rooftops, alongside others, but he banished the thought. 

“It’s amazing…” he found himself saying without hesitation, and Harumi grinned at him. 

“Isn’t it? I love this city very dearly,” Their expression seemed a little strained, brow furrowed as though something weighed on their shoulders. She looked at him earnestly, “That’s why I want to protect it from those who cause it harm.”

Protect…

“You protect people? Your organization?” Echo raised his eyebrows. If these people aligned with his own purpose, perhaps he could help them. Yet, he knew he would probably be denied, if anything. He recalled memories of trying to fight pirates, his arms and bolts creaking at the sight of combat. He was useless in his current state.

“That is our goal, yes,” Harumi nodded, hands behind their back. “We do small-time work for now, but I have big plans. Very big plans,” She walked back over to the workbench, running a hand over the tools laid nearby. “I want your help with them.”

I need your help, said the blue ninja.

“My help?” Echo stared at her incredulously, and she nodded with a smile. “But I’m…”

“In bad condition, I know. But it doesn’t have to stay that way,” she set a hand on his new arm, “There’s a lot of possibilities for you, if you want to know about them.”

“I…” he wasn’t sure what to say. She was offering to fix him, give him upgrades, all because she wanted his help to protect people? It felt too good to be true, but he had no reason to doubt her. She appeared genuine, and she had taken him out of the lighthouse. 

“You don’t have to give me an answer right now,” Harumi assured him, “I’ll let you think about it. It’s a big decision, isn’t it? But the upgrade offer stands no matter what– I’ll give it to you regardless of whether or not you want to join my cause.”

Echo still stared at her, “...You really want me to help you? Me? ”

“That is what I said,” Harumi’s black eyes stared back, and he sensed no malice in their gaze. It made him feel a little hope about all of this, that perhaps leaving the lighthouse would not have the dire consequences he always worried about. He could just… be someone new, and protect people in his own way.

But changing his body… he felt uneasy about it. After all, he had been one of his father’s last true creations. Emblazoned with his mark on his chestplate, but he supposed that didn’t matter if he’d lost it a long time ago. Some rusted piece of metal on a basement floor, forgotten to time. If he accepted this offer, he would never have to worry about cleaning his rust again, or searching for spare wires among his father’s old discarded projects.

“...Alright. I will think about it.”

Harumi smiled at him, “I’m happy to hear that. I think we’ll be good friends, Echo.”

Friends? With me?

This would be his first time making a friend besides Gizmo, and…

Morro. He’d been so caught up in the overwhelming conversation he’d forgotten about the ghost entirely. Is he really gone…? He had called for him with no response, so perhaps the other had taken this opportunity to leave, just as he thought.

I… guess I have a new friend now, though . He looked at Harumi, who was digging in her cloak and fishing out her mask again. His heart still felt heavy. He liked Morro, and he found the ghost to be a good companion. What if Harumi didn’t like chess?

Harumi put the mask and hood back on, and set her hands on her hips. “I have some business to go take care of, but you’re free to leave this room and wander around if you want. Everyone is friendly!” They assured him, and he nodded. “But if you talk about me to any of them, call me the Quiet One.”

“The Quiet One?” 

“I don’t like to tell people my real name. You’re an exception, because I want us to be good friends.”

“...I see. I’m glad to hear you trust me,” Echo smiled faintly, and while he couldn’t tell what Harumi’s expression under the mask was, he wanted to believe she was grinning back.

“Thank you for understanding! I knew you would,” Harumi made sure their mask was fastened tight, and began to head for the door. “I’ll see you around, no doubt!” And with that, she disappeared as fast as she’d come, and Echo was alone again, the faint buzz of something he didn’t know the name of filling the air. Machinery, perhaps?
He felt himself drawing his legs up to his chest, setting his head atop his knees and staring at the door as though he expected someone else to come in. Even if Harumi had been friendly, she was… unfamiliar, and he was in a new place he knew nothing about. It was nothing if not overwhelming, and he longed for something he knew. I hope Gizmo is okay. Is he worried about me?

And, after a moment, I hope Morro is okay.

He shut his eyes for a moment, imagining the sound of waves he was so accustomed to, and he felt his shoulders relax. He listened to it intently, and he could feel the ocean breeze on his face. It felt so real.

No, it was real wind brushing against his face.

Huh? Harumi said they were underground, didn’t she?
In a moment, green light filled the room and Echo saw Morro floating in front of him, intense stare making him shirk back for a moment.

“Morro?! You–!” The robot gawked, and on instinct he reached out to grab the other into a friendly embrace. Though halfway in he stupidly remembered he was reaching for a ghost , so his arms would go through– but he was surprised to find they met something solid, and Morro allowed him his hug, even if he let his own arms hang awkwardly at his side.

“...You had been asleep for a while after they did some stuff to you, so I wandered out. I wanted to see more of this place,” Morro said, and Echo pulled away, sensing the other was getting tired of the physical touch. The ghost crossed his arms over his chest and looked away, appearing more interested in the glowing boards. “There’s a decent amount of people here.”

“I was told it's an organization,” Echo informed him.

“You talked to someone?”

“Ah– Yes, the ‘Quiet One’ came to speak to me.” Morro gave him a look, that little nose curl he did when he heard something particularly confusing or unpleasant. “They were friendly, and very helpful.”

“Were they now,” The ghost looked over Echo’s new arm, brows furrowed. “I guess they did make you a new arm.”

“They’ve offered to give me a full upgrade,” Echo felt only half-present, mind going a mile a minute as they tried to focus on their situation and also on Morro inspecting their arm. “I would stop falling apart– Perhaps they could even change my fuel source entirely. Wouldn’t that be nice?”
“I mean, I’m not you, do what you want,” Morro didn’t look up at him. “...I guess it would be nice, though. What do they want in return?”

“They asked me to join their organization, to help protect people.”

Morro finally looked up, only to give him a skeptical face.

“...Do you know what kind of place this is?”

“Ah, well…” Echo felt a little embarrassed for not really knowing. He’d been considering the offer so carefully, but he barely knew anything about what Harumi’s group did besides protecting people, and working towards some big ‘plan’. 

“It’s a biker gang,” Morro looked at him blankly, “Like, they ride motorcycles.”

“Motorcycle…” Echo couldn’t say he had a mental image of what that was. A cycle… Was it a kind of bike? But a motor… Was it a machine? A motor-powered bike? He didn’t want to suggest that and sound stupid.

The ghost floated over to the glowing board, hands over the buttons and eyes closed as if he were recalling a faint memory of some kind. After a moment, he typed some things in without looking, and images came up on the screen of what Echo had pictured– motorized bicycles, big and intimidating but quite interesting looking.

“...This is a computer, by the way,” Morro informed him, “You can look up anything on them. I’ve never actually used one, just…” He trailed off, looking uncomfortable. Echo waited for him to finish his thought, but he did not, and turned back to the screen.

The robot carefully picked himself up off of the workbench, standing on slightly creaky, but sturdy, legs. He made his way over to the ‘computer’ and took a good look at it. A machine that could find anything? It was quite impressive.

“How do you do that? Find the pictures?” Echo found himself standing right behind Morro, glancing over his shoulder. There was not much space at the desk, and he felt bad for being so bothersome, but he was curious.

Morro did not move his head from staring straight down at the buttons. Now that Echo could see them, he could tell they all had an assigned letter. “You spell out what you want?”
“Yes, that’s it,” Morro nodded, “Do you want to see something?”

Echo made a quiet ‘hmm’, thinking for a moment. If I could see anything in the world… “Can I see my father? The computer can find anything, right?”

“Well, it doesn’t work like that, I don’t think,” Morro mumbled, “But I don’t remember that well. Like I said, I never used it myself,” He began typing something, and Echo watched the screen intently. Instead of images showing up, he saw several lines of words below what Morro had put in, “Anton Julien”. 

The topmost one said “Anton Julien Obituary”. Echo felt his gears ache, and Morro tensed beside him.

“That one, what does it say?” He felt his hand press on the back of Morro’s shoulder, and Morro allowed it without letting him fall through. The ghost clicked on the words, and another visual appeared. A page of words. The same phrase from before was at the top.

“Doctor” Anton Julien. 1023 - 1102. Father. Inventor. He is succeeded by one son, Zane Julien.

Morro still didn’t look at him, but Echo’s eyes were glued to the screen anyway, reading the words over and over. Anton Julien. Obituary. Succeeded by one son.

Zane Julien.

“Look it up,” Echo said.

Morro’s head tilted back, just slightly, “Huh?”
“Zane Julien. Look him up next.”

Nodding, Morro typed in the name, and many words and images appeared. White Ninja stops bank robbery. Mechanic thwarted by Master of Ice. What seemed like endless pictures of Zane in a plethora of scenarios. Mid fight, in full ninja gear. Impromptu photos seemingly taken without him knowing, out on the street. Pictures of him with others, all smiling. Pictures of him fighting people, defending citizens.

“I told you, he’s a ninja,” Morro said bluntly, voice a little soft. 

“Yeah,” Echo wasn’t sure what he felt about the images. About Zane Julien. About the fact that somewhere, his father’s son was fulfilling their purpose with such excellence. His deceased father, gone for several years now.

What am I here for?

He wondered what help Harumi could possibly gain from him, when someone so much better was already out there doing so much good. Protecting people, loving people, built nice and strong without the need for new arms or legs or gears. 

I’m just…

Morro looked at him carefully, seemingly sensing his change in feeling. He turned off the computer.

“You don’t owe him anything,” the ghost’s eyes were wary. “The doctor, I mean.”

All this time. Did he ever even tell anyone?

His mind went to the image of the blue ninja, smile bright and hand on his shoulder. Of his brother, who seemingly looked in real life just as he did in Echo’s dreams. People who promised him things, who offered him friendship, yet it never seemed real. 

“If…” Morro started, hesitant, “If you want to talk to Zane, I know how to find him. I could take you there.”

Did he want to talk to Zane? To Jay? Would they remember him, the time they shared together? Would they be upset at him for leaving the lighthouse? If they didn’t want me there, why would they knowingly leave me there?

Morro’s voice grew hoarser, “Say something.”

“I don’t want to see them,” Echo said quietly, pressing his face down into the fabric of Morro’s shoulder and focusing on the texture instead of the way his body ached. He could tell the ghost wanted to shy away from the contact, but he did not fall through. He appreciated that. 

“You can do what you want.”

“I do not… know what I want.”

Morro was quiet. Then, “Do you know how to ride a motorcycle?”

“...I could learn.”

Chapter Text

“Morro, come here for a moment!”

The young boy ran along the floorboards, bare feet carrying him as fast as they could go towards where his teacher beckoned him. He heard the call from where he had been practicing his forms in the training room, Wu’s voice ringing clear from out in the courtyard.

He was out of breath when he rounded the corner towards the main doorway, but he was far more worried about his teacher thinking he was not diligent enough to heed his call. He prepared to shout, ‘Here, Sensei!’ in response, until his eyes met cold red ones that sent a chill through his spine.

Morro stumbled back, falling squarely onto his behind and wincing at the pain, but his eyes never left the man standing beside his teacher.

Wu turned his head towards him with a sympathetic gaze. Morro scrambled to his feet, and took on the first defensive stance that came to him. 

“Morro, no need for that,” His teacher waved a hand dismissively. “Come down here. Today, you and my brother are not enemies.”

Not enemies? But he’s…!

The man standing beside his teacher was nearly antithetical to Wu in every way– where Wu had warm golden eyes, his brother had sharp red ones. Where Wu’s face was round and kind, Garmadon’s was angular and abrasive. Glowing dark skin contrasted pale, sickly features. Morro stepped forward warily, never letting his stare leave the Dark Lord before him.

Garmadon kept his eyes for a moment, but held no traces of malice or suspicion that Morro could sense. Only a light curiosity and an air of understanding. He smiled toothily, showing off his fangs.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Morro,” He said, bending his knees a smidge so he could be closer to the boy’s height. Morro scowled. “I hear a lot about you from my brother. He says you’re quite talented.”

The student hesitated to respond for a moment, instead looking up at his teacher,searching for some kind of sign as to what the correct movement here was. Should I attack him? Is this a test of my commitment to being the Green Ninja? Or is it a test of my patience?

Garmadon shifted awkwardly at the silence, and Wu set a hand on Morro’s shoulder, laughing lightly.

“It’s okay, Morro. Like I said, you are not enemies today. Lower your guard for a moment.” Wu’s words assured him, if only a little, that this was not some kind of secret test. So he skeptically looked at Garmadon again.

“It’s nice to meet you, sir,” Morro said.

Garmadon smiled, much more genuinely this time. Briefly, Morro wondered what it must be like to have the entire world waiting with bated breath for the day you turn evil. 

------------

Echo had agreed to the upgrade.

Morro had been sitting outside the room for some time now. At first, he watched silently as strangers picked apart and put back together his friend, old rusted limbs replaced with new clean ones. They seemed to completely remove his steam engine, his gears and tank. But Morro didn’t understand much about technology, or robotics, or anything like that– and watching it happen without knowing what was happening just frustrated him beyond belief. So while at first he had been concerned about Killow and his group somehow doing damage to Echo, he felt assured they wouldn’t break him, and left to go find something to occupy his mind for the time being.

He found this place– the headquarters of the bikers– to be more than strange. The area that comprised most of it was some kind of common room, but it was clear to him based off of his Lloyd-sourced knowledge of modern Ninjago (a couple vague images and memories) that it was some kind of repurposed subway platform. There were many areas that led off into tunnels, old tracks recycled into decor or building material. The whole place was an odd mix of worn, probably trash picked furniture and newer stuff that seemed fresh off the shelves.

He watched some of the bikers chat away on a handful of moth-bitten couches about their exploits of the day. Black, blue, and pink outfits with ugly skull makeup. These people were a part of this … gang (that’s what they called themselves, apparently) that Echo had gotten himself mixed up with.

Gang… By the looks of the face paint and matching outfits, he was starting to think it was more like a cult. The way they’d decorated themselves almost felt like a poor mimicry of the underworld soldiers Garmadon had commanded some time ago.

He’d spent his time since arriving here trying to gather as much information about the group as possible. They were called the Sons of Garmadon, they rode motorcycles, and according to Echo (whose only source, Morro reminded himself, was some mysterious figure called the Quiet One ), they protected the people of Ninjago City. For some reason, Morro had a hard time believing that last one. He knew Garmadon had redeemed himself a fair bit– he recalled the man’s entry into the Cursed Realm, human, sorrowful and looking unlike Morro had ever seen him– but a protector of the city? That was the job of the ninja.

His only memories of Garmadon when he was alive were when he was younger, poking his head around the corner of the hallway to peer at his future opponent, sharing a laugh with his teacher. Sometimes he wondered when the final battle would start– if it would be when he least expected it, asleep in his bed during one of Garmadon’s visits to his brother and finding himself awoken by a chaotic warlord trying to rip his head off. 

The visage of Garmadon that these people seemed to follow was more akin to the one he hadn’t known. They saw him with horns, four arms and the face of an oni, the warlord he would become upon the prophecy’s fulfillment. The one Morro never actually saw in the flesh– the one he prepared day and night to vanquish. All for nothing, his mind said bitterly.

Anyone who followed that beast was not to be trusted, no matter what they said about ‘protecting’ the city. A long time ago, Morro had sworn to defeat that man. Yet, from what he could gather of Lloyd’s memories and his own experiences, Garmadon had been healed of the accursed venom, and left to live a more peaceful life. Morro didn’t know what the man had been like in the peak of his madness– when his son, the true green ninja (Morro mentally groaned thinking of it) had defeated him. Certainly, whoever he was at that time was not someone worth admiring, let alone devoting an entire gang to. Not unless you were evil.

So for now, Morro regarded them with an air of skepticism. If Echo wanted to play biker in order to figure things out for himself, who was Morro to stop him? It wasn’t his place at all, really. They were only tentative friends, and had known each other for a few weeks in that lighthouse together– if Echo asked him to leave, because he wanted to pursue something new, who was Morro to defy him?

If he asked me to leave… Morro hadn’t thought of it until now, really. It wasn’t like he had any reason to stay. He had no intentions of joining the Sons of Garmadon, or anything like that. But on the other hand, where did he have to go? His survival of the Stiix incident was still a strange move on fate’s part, and while he wasn’t sure he would ever figure out why he ended up on that lighthouse beach, he was certain his lack of an explanation would be used against him if he were to encounter the ninja.

He wasn’t sure what he would even say to Wu, if anything.

Sorry for trying to curse every realm? Maybe that could be a start. He did feel wrong for it– for falling prey to the Preeminent’s sweet nothings, her promises that he could prove himself. He felt nauseous thinking of it now, of how for a time, he had trusted her with his whole heart. He had trusted that, even if she was working towards her own goals, she would make sure he was able to fulfill his own. Perhaps it was his own fault for relying on someone else again, like it was his own fault for relying on Wu, for wanting to prove himself.

So, maybe he would apologize to Wu for being such a bad student. 

As if I would ever get the chance. 

He had no intention of trying to get mixed up with the ninja, or his former teacher, again.

They would exorcize him the minute they saw him coming, no doubt about it. But where else would he go, if not here? To Stiix, to see the remains of all the damage he did? To the Caves of Despair to rot beside his own corpse until he inevitably– hopefully– faded away?

He thought back to when he was standing against the waves on that island, droplets of water stinging his skin.

I don’t want to leave. That’s what he said.

Perhaps, for just a moment, he had wanted to pretend he was wanted– needed by someone. Not just a tool to be used for a purpose far greater than him, for a goal he didn’t care about. 

He recalled how relieved Echo looked when he woke up on the table in the other room, when Morro appeared before him. The robot had tried to embrace him, relief washing across his features. At that moment, Morro had been a little dumbfounded. Does he want me here?

It plagued him. It really did.

Morro sat and stared at the door where Echo was being upgraded on the other side, and he felt his chest grow tight. Am I just an answer to his loneliness? What happened when Echo decided to join the gang, and made new friends? Morro doubted he would want a bothersome ghost to still be trailing after him. He was a means to an end.

Yet, back then, he was willing to let me leave. It was all too confusing for him. Thinking about it too hard, Morro’s head was ready to burst. He wanted to find the nearest bucket of water and dunk himself inside, letting the droplets dissipate his very being. Anything was better than trying to sort out his emotions of all things. When he was the general of the Preeminent’s army, all he needed was his anger, his frustration.

Now he was stuck trying to navigate something as stupid as a friendship for his own sanity. I’ll see how things play out. 

“Did you see? Apparently they’ve got the ice ninja in there,” One of the bikers was talking particularly loud, and Morro couldn’t help but listen to him, floating a little closer to eavesdrop on the conversation.

“No, they don’t, dumbass,” His friend retorted, “The big man said he looks like the ice ninja. There’s a difference.”

“If he’s–” The first started talking but suddenly stopped, eyes widening when they landed on one of the tunnels that wasn’t blocked off. There were heavy footsteps approaching. “Shit, man, it’s the Quiet One. Look busy,” the guy muttered, and the whole group sat at attention.

The Quiet One. Morro had heard about them from Echo, but he had just missed them before. They seemed to be the leader of all this nonsense.

From the tunnel emerged a figure cloaked in black, and Morro was disappointed to see their face was covered by some kind of white and blue mask. They paid no attention to the lackeys they’d disrupted, only making a beeline for the room where Echo was being worked on, opening the door, and slipping inside.

Morro followed suit.

Inside was no longer as dark as before, and he could clearly see Echo sitting up on the table, now awake and lightly kicking his feet back and forth in the air. Oblivious to the tension that gathered in the room at the Quiet One’s arrival. He waved at them. Idiot.

“Oh,” Killow perked up from where he was sitting at one of the computers, raising a brow. “You’re back early.”

The Quiet One nodded. I guess the name is accurate. They’re not going to talk?

Morro continued keeping himself invisible, but he couldn’t help but get closer to look at Echo’s now fully upgraded body. The robot was checking it out himself, mouth slightly agape in wonder.

“You’re all dismissed,” Killow said, and the other members who had helped him filed out of the room without question. Now it was just him, the Quiet One, and Echo– and the ghost none of them could see.

“How is it?” The Quiet One did speak, after all. Their voice was fairly high, and it rang clear in the room. Echo smiled at them.

“It’s so… well, it will take some getting used to,” He said honestly, but quickly jumped to his feet off of the table. “It feels wonderful, though!”

“We tried to keep as much of your original body as possible,” Killow gave him a toothy grin. “Especially that mark on your back– figured you’d want that at least.”

Echo’s face seemed to twitch for only a second and Morro was half-convinced he’d hallucinated it, because immediately after the robot was smiling again. “I appreciate that.”

“It’s the least we could do,” The Quiet One said softly, “It was horrible seeing you in that kind of condition. Nobody deserves that.”

Something we can agree on, Morro thought idly. He distinctly remembered the first time he watched Echo refill his water tank, watching flakes of rust shave off his own body. Knowing it was something he had no control over, a punishment he was facing for no reason other than existing… It made Morro’s head hurt. When had he become so empathetic?

I guess it’s hard to dislike someone who’s so earnestly kind, he thought distantly.

Echo shifted a little from foot to foot, “...Thank you again. I do not know how I could repay you.”

“There’s no need for repayment,” The Quiet One said, “But… I don’t suppose you've thought about my offer?”

“I… have. But I’m just not sure I would be of any use to you.”

“Your body won’t get in the way anymore, rest assured,” they replied, “We’ve given you the latest in robotics. You’ll be better than most robots out there right now.”

“Really?” Echo stared at her incredulously, some unknown emotion flashing across his face. But he shook his head, “No, it is not that… I just…” The words seemed unable to leave him.

The Quiet One gently took one of his hands in her own and he blinked at it.

“This is…” He spoke so softly Morro could barely hear.

“With how technology is now, we gave you the ability to touch , Echo. To feel ,” She set another hand on top of his, cupping it. “And you can do so much more than that now. Let us show you, please. Where else would you go?”

With me , Morro’s mind said without hesitation. But he knew even that wasn’t an option. There was no way Echo would want to return to the lighthouse after all of this, and he wasn’t taking him to the ninja of all places. The Quiet One was right– he had nowhere to go. Neither of us do.

“...Okay,” Echo said.

With the mask on, there was no way of knowing what kind of expression the Quiet One was making, but Morro could hear the smile in their voice.

“I’m so glad to hear that. I promise you’ll like it here,” They gave his hands another squeeze and let go. “It’s become a home for me. I hope it can be one for you too.”

Echo smiled at them, and Morro couldn’t help but roll his eyes. How cheesy. What’s their objective here? Surely a now advanced robot like Echo would be useful manpower, but for what kind of goal? Protecting the city is vague, and with the Garmadon motif…

Morro shook his head. This was Echo’s choice. It wasn’t his place to worry about it. He shouldn’t even care. 

Yeah, maybe he’ll like it here, his mind said, Maybe he’ll make friends, and find a place to belong, and you’ll be stuck on your own again.

He didn’t want to think about that. He’d taken some comfort in the fact that, in the lighthouse, Echo was his reason to be here. To keep the robot company in his loneliness, to do a small amount of good in the world to repay for the kindness he was given. Now what? Just hope the other truly did like him, maybe.

“A home would be nice,” Echo said distantly, nodding. “I want to explore the city.”

“Sure thing!” Killow chimed in, “We’ll take you out first thing tomorrow. I guess you can’t ride yet, but we’ll teach you the basics.”

“I… Thank you. I would really appreciate that!”

“It’s nothing. Anything you need, you can just ask,” the Quiet One assured him. “We’ll get it for you.”

Echo hummed, considering it. Then, he smiled a bit sheepishly, and Morro felt a pang deep in his chest. He knew that smile.

“...I don’t suppose you have a chess set here?”

------------

After somehow managing to dig up an old chess set from somewhere, Killow led Echo to a more secluded tunnel off of one of the main ones that held a couple of doors.

“This is where Ultra Violet and I usually stay; we’ve got a place over on South side, but sometimes we just don’t want ‘ta ride all the way home, y’know?” He explained, fishing for some keys from his vest pocket and unlocking one of the doors.

Echo nodded, and Morro could tell that all went over his head, as he was still staring at the worn box in his hands containing the game. It was a little amusing.

“We’ve got a couple spare rooms set up for others, too. So you can use this one,” Killow handed him the key. “I guess ya don’t really need sleep, but you should still power down to recharge from time to time.”

“How often?” Echo asked. Killow made a pointing motion towards his own head.

“You’ll see a little message when you’re low on power. But you should be able to check.”

“I see…” He hummed, “That is convenient!”

“Tomorrow I’ll introduce ya to Violet, and you can tag along on a mission with us. It’ll be fun,” Killow smiled and patted Echo on the shoulder. “Have a good night.”

“Good night!” The robot replied cheerily, and Killow nodded again before heading back down the hall and out of sight.

Echo looked around for a minute before heading inside and shutting the door. Morro phased through after him, and finally let himself be visible.

“The new look’s something,” he said.

Echo turned around in surprise upon hearing him, nearly jumping in place. “Morro! You’re still here.”

“Yeah.” Did he think I was going to leave?

The robot smiled. “It is something, isn’t it? There’s all sorts of new things in my head. Like the image searching. I can do that in my head . Isn’t that something?”

“It’s something,” Morro didn’t know anything about robotics, but he understood robots were kind of like if computers could walk and talk, so it made sense. 

“It’s.. a little much though,” he admitted, smile turning a bit more lopsided. He looked around for a minute and went to set the chess box on the table towards the side of the room.

When he tried to put it down, however, his arms suddenly jolted, and the box tumbled onto the floor, spilling pieces everywhere. A small buzzing filled the room, and sure enough a small robot had flitted out from under the bed to start cleaning up the mess.

“Gizmo!” Echo sounded more than overjoyed, completely ignoring the issue at hand as he gave the robot a pat on its head.

“What was that ?” Morro looked at him.

“These limbs… I am not entirely used to them yet. It was only a mistake,” he admitted, frowning. “Do you want to play?”

“Sure.” It wasn’t like the other would take no for an answer. And he didn’t want to admit he enjoyed their games. 

Once Gizmo fully returned all the pieces to the box, Echo pulled out his chair and sat down, beginning to set up the board. He smiled lightly while doing so. Morro couldn’t help but watch him.

“What do you think?” 

“Huh?” Morro blinked at him.

“About all of this, I guess…” He finished the black side and began moving onto Morro’s white pieces.

“You’re asking me ?”

“I value your opinion. We’re friends, right?”

Morro didn’t know what to say to that.

“It’s… fine, I guess. I don’t know about this whole Garmadon thing.”

“Garmadon?” Echo looked up at him, and Morro instinctively avoided his gaze. “Oh, I see. A criminal?”

“It’s more complicated than that, but yes,” Morro said. He must have looked it up in his head. How convenient . 

Wait.

Could he find me on there?

Almost certainly. The possibility had Morro frozen. If he knows what I’ve done… he would definitely want me to leave.

He frowned.

“What’s wrong?” Echo asked. 

“Nothing. It’s just nice to not have to explain every obvious detail to you anymore.”

“ Hey ,” He narrowed his eyes. “Make your move. I’m not going easy on you just for that.”

Ah, he’s serious. “Uh,” Morro had finally looked at the board. “Pawn to G5.”

The room was silent and otherwise filled with the light clicks of their pieces moving from then on. They’d gotten to a point they no longer needed to call out moves– Morro was focused. He was lasting longer and longer with each game. Surely he could win sooner or later.

“Checkmate,” Echo said finally. 

“Again.”

The other nodded and reset the pieces. They played three more rounds.

“This is ridiculous,” Morro frowned. “Are you cheating?”

“No,” Echo said. “I already know all of the strategies my searches yield.”

“So you are looking them up.”

“I am not learning anything new!”

“You’re cheating!”

“Gizmo is the only cheater here,” Echo said matter-of-factly, and there was an offended beep from somewhere in the room.

“That sounds like something a cheater would say, is all,” Morro smirked at the other’s exasperated face.

“If you are going to make accusations, I will not play with you.”

“If you promise not to cheat, I’ll stop.”

“For the last time, I am not–” Echo sighed, “Fine. I promise not to cheat.”

“Okay,” Morro reset the pieces. “Again.”

He lost seven more times that night.

Chapter Text

That morning, Echo powered back on, feeling far more refreshed than he ever had in his life. This new body was truly something else! After spending so long in what was essentially a rotting case of scrap, being able to live without the constant fear of suddenly breaking down was… he had no words to describe it. It was freeing , if anything.

He had spent so long at his window watching the seagulls come and go, wondering what it would be like to fly– and while he still couldn’t fly , so to speak, he understood now the kind of feelings those seabirds must have had while they soared openly in the sky. It exhilarated him enough to get him to sit up in bed.

Though there was no way of telling if the bed he’d been given was comfortable, he supposed it felt soft. Soft – something he could feel now! With his new hands and arms! It was interesting. Like what he imagined clouds would feel like, or the fine texture of sand. He had never felt something besides temperature before, and the sensation was a little overwhelming. But he wanted to feel more things. 

He looked around the room. Morro wasn’t anywhere to be seen, so he must have wandered off somewhere during the night. I wonder if there’s a roof for him to sit on here. His sensors– (sensors! He couldn’t help but pump his fists in excitement) -- told him they were several yards underground. So if anything, Morro could go sit on the surface.

There were no windows in the room due to the location, but Echo had no problems navigating. He’d always been able to see in the dark, it was just that one of his eyes used to have a crack in it, which made it much harder before. That had been fixed and now he could see things quite clearly. It was incredible.

Reaching for the door handle, he found it was jammed. Echo frowned. Is it stuck? He gave it a little more effort, and it jangled, but creaked open, and the fresh scent of sea air hit him in one sharp wave.

No.

Outside the door he saw nothing but the edge of a rocky beach and the gray ocean beyond as far as the eye could see. Seagulls cried somewhere, and Echo felt an uncomfortable current running through his body as he slammed the door shut. The clatter made him stumble backwards.

No. It can’t be.

There were no windows. No way to tell where he was besides that door, the door which held the ocean behind it. The same ocean he’d woken up to see for the last… he didn’t know how long. Forever. Since the day he was created, all those years ago. Waking up and seeing that ocean and wondering what was beyond it, why he had been forced to endure such a prison when his very creator did nothing but cry about how torturous it was.

I just wish I could go home, he would say, when Echo tried to set a hand on his shoulder in comfort and he would not acknowledge him. I miss my son.

For a long time, Echo would always remind him gently, “ I am right here.” But that always got him a cold shoulder. So at some point he stopped saying anything, only quietly comforting the old man until even his presence was met with nothing but silent hatred. It was all pointless, so pointless. No, it wasn’t. He loved me in his own way.

He often retired to the lower levels of the lighthouse, opting to stay as far away from the doctor as possible. He loved me. He hated to see him so uncomfortable. His entire existence was nothing but a plague. He said I could be perfect, too.

So he would sit on the steps and watch the ocean and wonder why . Why he had been created only to be an object of hatred. Why the doctor had disappeared one day, leaving him behind. Why he would never be good enough. The answer was always clear: Zane.

And after the doctor left, he sat alone in that brick lighthouse, staring at walls that never seemed to change except for when he carved new tallies into them. At the ocean that never got any smaller, the days that never seemed any shorter. He still loves me. He will return. I will be here , and he will give me a hug, and say he missed me, and that I did so well to wait. Just like he asked. 

Echo hadn’t noticed when he ended up on the floor, hunched over and avoiding looking up at his surroundings. I knew it was all fake. Just like last time, when the blue ninja smiled at him and told him he would be able to meet his brother. He could feel the rust on his skin, his joints clicking and twisting. The briny air permeated everything.

His body shook. Or something was shaking him.

“Hey, get up,” A voice cut through, and there was a sensation of hands settled on his back. “Seriously, what’s wrong with you?”

Morro , he recognized the voice. He’s here. Or maybe, the ghost had been some figment invented by his deteriorating mind. Maybe he would wake up and see nothing but the ocean and the empty sky and maybe one day he wouldn’t wake up, and it could all be done. Surely his father would not be disappointed in him. 

“Shit, I knew these idiots couldn’t be trusted,” he heard Morro say, “What did they do?” 

Is any of this real? 

“Can you hear me?” 

His words failed him, and all he could muster was a nod. He heard Morro mutter something before his body was turned over onto his back, and he chanced opening his eyes to see the ghost leaning over him.

“If I need to… If I need to go find Killow, or whatever his name is, then say it,” Morro stared at him intensely. Echo shook his head. The current was subsiding now, if only a bit. He could see the bright lights of the ceiling, nothing like the lighthouse. He wasn’t there, was he?

Morro seemed to ease up a little bit upon getting some kind of response, but still worried his lip. He didn’t say anything as Echo sat up slowly. I should go back, his mind thought distantly. Father wanted me to stay. 

He thought about the big screen, when Morro had spelled out his father’s name. The words that appeared. He was gone, wasn’t he? 

“I am fine,” Echo said, “I think my new senses overwhelmed me for a moment, is all.”

“Overwhelmed…” Morro repeated. “You were screaming.”

Echo blinked at him, smiling awkwardly. “What?”

“You were screaming ,” The ghost stared at him incredulously. “You just suddenly got up and opened the door, and then started screaming.”

“I…” The robot didn’t know what to say. Surely that wasn’t true. “Sorry for worrying you. I am fine!”

He hoped he didn’t sound too forced. It was just a moment of… well, he didn’t actually know what that was. He’d had nightmares about his father’s departure from time to time, but never anything like that. As far as he was aware, at least. 

He gave Morro a hesitant smile and began to pick himself up off the ground. “I hope nobody here heard that. I would hate for them to be concerned.”

The ghost didn’t say anything, and Echo tried not to frown. Is he upset with me? He could feel his mind starting to panic again. He’s not saying anything. Just like...

“I don’t think so,” Morro said finally, and Echo’s shoulders relaxed just a bit.

He wanted to apologize. To say something to make sure the other didn’t hate him now,

to make sure he wouldn’t leave Echo alone here. But that would sound ridiculous, wouldn’t it?

“Newbie! Are you up?” A light pounding on the door and Killow’s voice rang out. Morro seemed to flinch at it, his head turning abruptly towards the noise.

“Looks like you’re needed,” The ghost said quietly, gaze lingering on Echo for a moment longer before he disappeared from view.

“...Right,” Echo said, “Right.” He quickly composed himself and went for the door. His hand hesitated on the knob. Killow is out there. You are not at home. He felt a soft breeze on his face, not briny, just the clean filtered air of the headquarters.

He opened the door. Killow was standing there, crouched slightly in the doorway.

“Good morning,” Echo smiled up at him, and the larger man waved back. He was dressed in a different outfit than his oil-stained tank top yesterday, an open vest and leather pants in its place. The robot could clearly see the dark gray and black markings all over the other’s body, and made a mental note to ask about them later.

“Morning! How’d the first night go?” The man asked without missing a beat, “You still up for an outing today?”

“I feel well-rested, thank you,” Echo answered honestly. Before… whatever had just happened, he truly did feel physically apt. The new body was wonderful. “You are a talented engineer.”

“You flatter me,” Killow laughed, “I’m better with vehicles than robotics, but glad I could help ya out. You wanted to meet Violet, right?”

Echo nodded eagerly. He wanted to meet as many people as he could, see so much of the world he had missed for the last few decades. It was so big and vast, certainly. Far more than what he read in his father’s adventure novels, where the protagonist could only describe to him the things he was not experiencing. Now, he could see them! Feel them! His circuits buzzed in excitement, and Killow seemed to sense this, patting him on the back.

“She’s out in the common area, and she’s looking forward to meeting you too. She’s pretty new around here, and she’s a lot to handle, but I think you could get along,” Killow nodded, beginning to walk and directing Echo to walk with him. The robot glanced hesitantly behind him to try and glimpse his other friend, but the ghost was nowhere to be seen. Likely invisible, then.

“We are a motorcycle gang, but you said you can’t ride, so we’ll teach you sometime soon,” Killow was prattling off about something or other as they walked. “You’ve got to ride. You’ll be a natural, though, so don’t worry ‘bout it.”

The common area was far more lively than Echo had seen it before, alight with various people partaking in all sorts of activities he wasn’t sure about. A small group of men and women were gathered with long sticks around a table covered in a layer of a soft-looking green material, and Echo’s hands flexed instinctively, wondering what it felt like, if it was similar to the bed he had slept in. He registered music playing from somewhere but it was unlike any he’d ever heard– his father only had a few old tapes which he would pop in the radio from time to time, and Echo had long since grown tired of them, knowing every lyric by heart. This music was fresh and loud, abrasive instruments he was unfamiliar with assaulting his ears, yet it only made him excited.

“Where’d she…” Killow muttered under his breath, looking around only for his face to light up in recognition. Echo followed his gaze to one of the tables, where a woman dressed in mostly purple and black was– well, Echo didn’t know what to call the activity. Her arm was locked against someone else’s, and they appeared to be struggling for physical dominance. Is it a game? It seemed like fun to him, perhaps they would let him try.

“Ultra!” Killow bounded over, Echo trailing along after him and curiously peering across the crowd of people, many of which stared back at him with just as much curiosity. The woman perked up and glanced at the pair, but did not take her arm out of the lock.

“Don’t fuck me up, Kill– I’m–” She gritted her teeth and the man whose arm she was battling shook, and he persisted just as heartily for another moment. 

“You won’t win against Nails, give it up,” Killow shook his head, “You’ve already made a bad impression on the new guy.”

“Huh?!” She cried, and in a moment of distraction, the other man managed to pin the back of her hand to the floor, and she cried out again, this time a bit more angrily. “Hey, don’t cheat, fucker!”

“Not cheating, you gave up,” The other person, Nails, leaned back and crossed his arms.

“Wipe that smug look off your face!” Violet hissed, getting up in her seat with her hands slammed on the table. Killow pressed a gracious palm to her shoulder.

“ Ultra , I said you made a bad impression– are you really gonna make it worse?” He chided, and Echo shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. He hated to cause conflict, and he wasn’t sure if speaking up would further the situation.

Ultra Violet glared at Killow then eyed Echo carefully, and now that she was looking directly at him he could get a better read of her appearance. She looked a bit similar to Killow in the face, I wonder if they’re related? But her overall frame was far more wiry and lithe, covered in belts and leather.

“No offense,” She finally said after a moment, “But why do you look like that ?”

“I’m sorry?” Echo stared at her incredulously, “What do you–” He cut himself off, coming to a realization. Oh. She must mean…

“The white ninja,” Ultra Violet’s face curled up in mild disgust. 

“I am…” He’s what? A discarded replica? A lesser version? A brother ? “I look like him. But I have never met him.”

Not in this timeline, not in this reality. The line between his dreams and the real world grew thinner every day– the haunting faces he couldn’t place becoming clearer and clearer. Jay. Nya. Zane. Skylor. Ronin. The more evident those names became in his mind, the fresher the memories felt. He could place personalities, voices, quirks and conversations, fragments of a past that didn’t seem real. What am I to make of that?

“Hey, are you listening?” Violet seemed annoyed, and Echo dipped his head in apology.

“I’m sorry.”

“I was saying that’s for the better, he’s a fucking pest, is what he is,” She frowned. “You wanna go for a ride, then?”

“He doesn’t know how,” Killow said, and Echo shrunk back, ashamed.

“Doesn’t know how, and he wants to join a biker gang? Seriously?” She laughed, cold and mocking. “Just go home to the ninja.”

Killow regarded her. “The Quiet One’s orders.”

That seemed to shut her up. “Okay,” her tone became more serious. “You can ride with me, then. Don’t we have that meeting today, Kill?”

“We’ve got to meet him at noon,” The large man shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “There’s time. We should get you something to wear, Echo.”

“Something to…” The nindroid stared at him blankly, and then Violet, and then himself. Of course. Humans wore clothing– he likely looked out of place. And though his body was no longer an embarrassing shoddy mess, he quite liked the idea of wearing clothing. Sometimes, when he got especially bored, he would sift through his father’s left behind things, trying on what would fit over his frame. It was fun. He tried not to think about how hurriedly his father must have been trying to get out to leave behind nearly his entire wardrobe.

“Most nindroids wear clothes nowadays,” Killow shrugged, “I mean, I guess you don’t have to– but at least get a jacket so you can look like a biker!”

Echo considered this. “Where can I obtain one?” 

“There’s a place we go, we’ll stop by on the way,” Violet stood up, belts and chains jingling. “If you’re ready, then let’s ride.”

—-----------------

The city was beyond words. 

Echo had never fathomed anything like it, even in his wildest dreams. Of course, he had faint memories of it– tall buildings reaching for the sky, loud machines driving through the road, and a bustling population. But it looked different somehow, truly seeing it. Maybe he truly had made it all up somehow.

He gripped Ultra Violet a little tighter, careful not to fall off of the speeding motorcycle, but he couldn’t help but constantly crane his neck in awe at everything they passed. It was nearly overwhelming, but in a good way. It was wonderful, and the wind felt good on his metal.

Killow pulled up beside them on the road. They skimmed between all of the cars congested on the large road (UV had called it a freeway), a chorus of angry honks meeting them.

“We’re nearly to forty-eighth, we should pull off soon!” He shouted over the roar of the engines in all of their ears, and Violet nodded, abruptly jeering off to the right and slipping between the end of the cars and the side of the road.

“You holding on back here?” She called, tilting her head slightly to acknowledge him.

“I am okay!” He couldn’t contain his smile. “This is fun!”

Violet grinned back, “That’s the spirit! We’re just getting started!”

He was about to ask what she meant when he felt the bike rear up backwards, and soon discovered Violet was driving on the barrier that separated the freeway from the rest of the city. He looked over his right side and saw a steep drop– this was an elevated section. He gripped Violet a little tighter.

“Are you scared ?” She cackled wildly as the bike reared again.

“Not at all!” He answered honestly, “I think this is the most fun I’ve ever had!”

The bike left solid ground and soared through the air, a cacophony of both the roar of the engine and Violet’s shrill laugh. 

—-----------------

“I told you to stop cheating, you little–” Morro’s glare was cold. He was so close to ripping this little machine apart and tossing him in the ocean. Surely Echo couldn’t miss him that badly, and he’d be freed of the worst chess companion known to man.

Gizmo beeped offensively at him. Morro started calculating how long it would take him to tear the screws out of that tiny metal body.

“I’m done with you,” The ghost stood up mid-game. His pieces had been going missing off the board, and he was tired. There was no point in playing like this. 

Echo had left with Killow and hadn’t returned– they mentioned something about going on an outing , and Morro wondered if maybe he should’ve tagged along. 

No, I’m not a babysitter, He reminded himself. If Echo wanted to go do things, Morro didn’t need to follow him everywhere. But that did leave him with nothing to do, and worst of all, his own thoughts. Gizmo beeped inquisitively as Morro hovered in the air above his seat.

It would be good if I left, but… He didn’t want to if Echo still wanted him around. It was as plain and simple as that. He had nowhere to go, nobody else to be with. At the very least, Echo provided him some kind of companionship, and seemed to want him around. He had been ready to let the ocean consume him again, but…

I don’t want to leave. That’s what he said. He could at least keep a promise as flimsy as that, couldn’t he? He’d gotten himself in too deep now, too invested. It made him weak, sure, but he had nothing else going for him right now. If a stupid robot thought he was decent company, he would stick around for that guy’s sake. And when Echo got bored with him, he could go backflip into the harbor. It seemed like a solid plan to him!

“If you return my pieces and stop cheating, we can play again,” Morro narrowed his eyes at the little robot, settling back into his chair. “I do want to practice, but I’ll never get any better if you keep doing that.”

Gizmo beeped in affirmation and shuffled a couple pieces back onto the board.

—-----------------

“What a fascinating place,” Echo was bouncing on his feet, eyes wide at the wares within the store. “What did you say it was called again?”

“Uh, Leather ‘n Studs,” Violet replied, raising a brow at him. “Are you dumb or something? You’ve never seen a clothing store?”

“I have not,” The robot said honestly, feeling one of the jackets in his hand. The material was smooth and tough, and quite thick. It felt good on his fingers. He continued touching everything within his reach as they made their way towards the back of the store.

“We found him in the middle of the ocean, Vi,” Killow rubbed his temple, “Didn’t I tell ya that?”

“Wasn’t paying attention, honestly,” She shrugged in response, “So he’s never seen like, anything ?” 

“I’ve seen the ocean,” Echo tilted his head, “And seagulls, and teapots, and I had a small radio, so I could play cassette tapes. Oh, and I know chess!”

Violet gave him a pitiful look, “Wow. Chess. How fun.” 

“You like chess too?!” 

“Hell no,” She then grinned, “The only game I’m playing is the knife game. You know that one?”

“Knife game…” He knew what knives were. It was a cooking utensil. So perhaps a game about cooking or eating? “I can’t say I’m familiar, but I’d love to play with you sometime!”

“That’s a deal, then!” Violet gave him a thumbs up, “Though it’s probably not as fun for someone like you,” She motioned to her hands. Echo didn’t know what she meant by that, but didn’t have time to ask, as she walked away towards where Killow was chatting with someone behind a large desk.

“Echo, come here,” Killow called him with a wave of his hand, and the robot trotted over, hand still trailing along the rows of hanging jackets.

“What is it?” He met eyes with the woman across the counter, “Oh, nice to meet you!”

“Charmed,” She said plainly, “What are your measurements?”

“My…” Echo trailed off, “Which ones?”

“This is ridiculous,” Violet snatched a tape measure off of the counter and motioned for Echo to raise his arms upward. She began taking the measurements herself.

“Fifty chest,” She said, running it along his shoulder blades. “Twenty one shoulders. Anything else?”

“That’s sufficient,” The woman behind the counter said, noting the numbers down on a small slip of paper that seemed to stick to the surface on the desk at one side. I could have told them that… Echo frowned. He wasn’t useless, he knew his own measurements! They just didn’t tell him which ones! He opted not to say anything at all about it, though. He wouldn’t want to insult Ultra Violet’s intelligence.

“I’ve got a couple like this in stock, though none of them are anything fancy. How much time do you have?” The woman looked at Killow, and Echo counted the little black dots in her ears as she turned her head. 

Killow put a hand to his chin, “We’re in a bit of a crunch. Just pick whichever one you think is best.”

She nodded and treaded off to some unseen back area, and Echo spotted some small wooden boxes on the desktop which held colorful thin shapes in them. He thought they were paper at first, but upon feeling them, he could tell they were some kind of woven material. 

“Patches,” Killow said above him, as though reading his mind. He pointed to his own vest, and Echo looked closely at all the designs embedded on it, realizing they were the same material.

“Oh!” He looked back and forth, “They’re so colorful. Do you like orange?”

“We’ve got a bit of a theme going,” Violet commented, and Echo nodded. That made sense, since she wore purple. Should he pick a color as well? Perhaps green...

“You can get some for your jacket another time,” Killow nodded, “Though, we have some back at headquarters you can use, too.”

Echo beamed, “That is very kind of you. Thank you!”

“It’s no problem at all,” Killow smiled back, and his head turned as the woman returned from the back with a black jacket thrown across her arm. It was the same smooth material as most of the other jackets in the store. She handed it to Echo.

It was a little heavy in his grip, but it felt nice. The zippers on it jingled gently as he shifted it around to get a better look. 

“What are you waiting for? Put it on!” Violet urged, and Echo nodded, slipping it over his shoulders and letting the new sensation settle over him. It was a bit heavier than any of his father’s old clothes, but the texture was smooth against his metal. His father had never given him any sort of clothing because of his steam engine, something about the fabric getting in the way of his exhaust pipes… But he didn’t have those anymore. Killow had carefully explained that his steam had been fully replaced with electricity, and he could feel its gentle thrum throughout his entire body.

It was new, but it was good. 

He zipped it up with clumsy fingers, smiling all the way. “I love it!” 

Killow looked him up and down, “We’ll have to get you some other things sometime soon, but not now– we’ve got stuff to do.”

“Other things? Clothing?” Echo stared at him in awe. “But you’ve already done so much…”

“You look kinda goofy without pants,” Ultra Violet deadpanned. “I think it’s funny, though.”

“I see…” He nodded. They wanted to give him even more clothing at a later date! He felt his body tremble lightly in anticipation for whenever that would be. Even though he’d only just met them, they were already being so kind. Upgrading him, giving him gifts… It was almost too much for him to bear. 

‘When we defeat Nadakhan,’ Jay said, voice even and firm, ‘Me and Nya can get you fixed up properly. I mean, we did our best, but… We can do better, I promise!’ 

Echo smiled at the ninja. ‘I would appreciate that. But you don’t need to.’

‘I insist,’ Jay clasped his shoulder, ‘You’re Zane’s family, and he’s family to me, so that makes us family! We’ll make things right. We’ve just got to finish this first.’

‘We will win,’ Echo assured him, meeting his eye. ‘I am sure of it.’

“Hey, bozo, are you listening? I said we’re heading out,” Violet knocked a fist against his forehead as though she were knocking on a door. Echo blinked. “We’ve got places to be.”

“Oh, my apologies!” He dipped his head, “Let us go, then!”

Ultra Violet regarded him with a wary glance, but turned to leave the store. This is real, that was not. They have given me things. There are no empty promises.

He shifted in his jacket, felt the fabric against his metal. 

“Hurry it up!” Violet called from ahead, and he jogged after her.

—-----------------

He rode on the back of Ultra Violet’s bike again, but the ride was significantly less… extreme this time around. They stuck to what Killow called ‘back roads’, winding through the tall buildings of the city until they got to an area that seemed very busy. He wondered if there were any more ‘stores’ around here.

“We going to Laughy’s?” He heard Violet call over to Killow, voice practically a scream against the roar of the engines. 

“No, he didn’t want to go there– too many prying eyes. We’re meeting a couple blocks away from there. You know that laundromat on fortieth and chestnut?”

“Do I look like I–” Violet had a bothered expression, “Whatever. I’ll just follow you.”

They continued to weave through oncoming cars, and Echo idly watched the passerby, some of which met his gaze with piqued interest. Occasionally, he would lock eyes with someone, and they would stop whoever they were with to point at him. Have they never seen a robot before? That didn’t make sense– Zane was a robot, and a public figure, if the computer was anything to go off of. Surely he wasn’t too strange of a sight.

As he considered it, they had pulled their bikes into a small opening between two buildings, and Violet hopped off. 

“Oh, this place,” She muttered, “Yeah, I know it. We going in?”

“Yeah,” Killow nodded, “Echo, come with us.”

He wasn’t exactly sure what they were doing, but he followed anyway. They had mentioned meeting someone– he didn’t know who, or for what purpose. At first, he thought maybe they would be meeting for a meal, as he knew that was a thing humans did. But they were at a place called a ‘laundromat’, and a quick search of the word told him it was not a place for eating.

Oh, do they want to wash my jacket, maybe? It was new, so he did not see a point in that– it was quite clean. But maybe there was some kind of ritual he was missing…

It was an interesting building, a laundromat. There were strange machines with windows in them, some of which contained moving clothes inside. Nobody was inside besides them, and Violet stomped up to the counter, where Echo now saw someone was crouched and digging through a drawer.

“Can I help–” He started, but he stopped when he saw Violet’s face. “Oh, it’s you guys. Come to the back.”

“There’s no cameras here, is there?” Killow frowned, and the man shook his head.

“What do you take me for, man? I’m trying to sell shit, not sell out myself ,” He muttered, fumbling with a key attached at his hip and leading them into a back room. Echo looked around as the man shut the door behind them. 

There were a few large metal boxes stacked high atop one another, a faint hum filling the room.

The man was scanning the ground around him, “You didn’t see any of those little snakes in here, right?” He asked nervously, “I’ve heard they’re everywhere nowadays. The little red and orange snakes.”

“Fuck off with that,” Violet hissed, “This the stuff?”

“Take a look,” The man pried the nearest box open, and Echo was not close enough to look inside, but he saw how it emitted a faint green glow. It reminded him of…

Morro! Oh, he had left without saying anything, hadn’t he? Hopefully the ghost wouldn’t be too upset with him about it. 

“That’s blast sap alright,” Killow huffed, “And you’ve got guys who will move it?”

“Wherever you want, within reason.”

“We’re gonna need at least twenty more crates full by next year,” Violet’s eyes were sharp.

“T.. twenty?” The man balked at her, “Do you know how long it took just to get these three? The toxic bogs are–”

“A damn nightmare, and a government regulated one at that,” Killow nodded, “Which is why we aren’t going there, and you’re getting us twenty-five crates total by this time next year.”

“What could you possibly be doing with that much blast sap–”

Violet was on him in a second, a dagger produced from her pants pressed hard against the man’s throat. He swallowed slowly, and Echo raised his brows, hand twitching.

“Um, there’s no need for–” The robot began to speak up, and Violet glared at him.

“Shut it, newbie!” She hissed, hand clenched around the laundromat man’s shirt and pulling him close, “What we’re doing isn’t any of your business. You’re gonna get us the damn plant, and we’re gonna pay you, and you’ll be happy whether you like it or–”

She was interrupted by a large hand grabbing her by the back of her jacket, forcing her to drop the man. Killow tsked.

“Don’t be unnecessary,” He chided, and Violet glared at him instead. I’m glad he intervened, Echo thought, I would hate for things to get violent… It seemed that was Killow’s thought, because he locked eyes with Echo, and nodded in silent understanding.

“ Unnecessary?!” Violet shrieked, “He’s the one who–” But Killow gave her a kind of look that Echo didn’t understand, and she quickly shut up.

“It’s…” The man who had been attacked composed himself, shuffling the knife across the floor with his foot. Echo crouched to pick it up (it was a safety hazard), but the man ignored him. “Whatever. I’ll get you as much as I can by next year, and I’ll contact you when it’s ready. That work?”

“Brilliant,” Killow affirmed, “You’ll get the first half of your payment by the end of this week,” He still had a hand on Violet’s shoulder, “Pleasure working with you; we’ll be seeing you.”

The man nodded back at him, rubbing at his neck, and Echo promptly followed Killow and Violet out of the backroom and through the doors of the laundromat, out onto the street. 

“I had it handled,” Was the first thing out of Ultra Violet’s mouth as she kicked at the pavement, “You don’t need to baby me, Kill.”

“ Maybe if you stop trying to murder our clients at any given opportunity–”

“What’s wrong with a little murder?!”

“Um,” Echo piped up, dagger still in his hands. The other two turned towards him in the midst of their argument, “I believe this is yours,” He presented it.

Violet snatched it without a word, shuffling it into her boot haphazardly. Is that safe? He was under the impression knives were dangerous to human skin. He recalled once, while cooking dinner, his father had cut his finger on the edge, and Echo had swiftly bandaged the old shaking hand. From then on, it had been Echo’s job to cut the ingredients.

“Also,” The robot continued, “You should not put a knife near someone’s throat. They could get seriously injured!”
She gawked at him. “Are you serious?”

“I’m very serious! Knives are quite sharp!”

“We’re leaving him,” Violet turned on her heel and began back towards the alley where the bikes had been parked. “The Quiet One will understand. I can’t work with this .”

“Vi–” Killow looked between Echo and the woman stomping away, frowning. “Wait here a moment, alright? I’ll talk to her. Don’t wander too far.”

Echo nodded, and Killow followed Violet as she left.

He was alone now. 

But Killow said he would return, and all Echo had to do was wait. He could do that.

—-----------------

There was a knock on the door. Zane had been in the middle of sweeping. 

“Hm,” The doctor spoke up from where he was hunched over his desk. 

It had been quite some time since the skeletons had last visited– at least a year now, if the tallies on the wall were correct. But Zane still remembered his duty for when they came. His father stood up at his desk slowly, weary from being seated too long, and shuffled his way down the stairs. Zane followed with hands ready to catch the man should he fall.

The doctor didn’t say anything at first, craning his neck over the new camera system he had set up. Zane was already at the lever of the hidden door, opening it and stepping inside. He glanced back at his father.

There were voices outside. They did not sound like the skeletons. But perhaps there were different skeletons this time. He could not see the image on the camera from that distance.

“Zane,” His father said under his breath. The doctor said it strangely, in a way the robot had never heard, at least not in a long time. He stood in the doorway of the basement steps.

“What is it?” Zane asked softly, so that the voices on the other side wouldn’t know he was there.

The doctor was quiet again, then turned to him, brows furrowed but a gentle smile on his face. “It won’t take long, I don’t think. I’ll let you know when they’re gone, alright?”

“Of course,” Zane nodded, returning the smile. He gave a small wave and pulled the lever on the other side of the door, letting it slowly sink closed and watching the dust settle in the dark. 

He remained there for a moment. He always did, just in case. If the skeletons were to attack his father, he needed to protect him. 

He could hear the sound of the front door being thrown open, of faint gasps and a loud exclamation from the doctor in a tone of voice the robot had never heard the man use in his entire life.

“Zane! Is it really you? You found me!”

—-----------------

“Zane!” 

Echo snapped to attention, shaking away his thoughts. Someone was tugging at his jacket. 

“Oh, honey, don’t grab people like that!” A woman chided from somewhere behind him, and Echo turned around. A small human boy was standing across from him, a lady trailing after from not too far down the sidewalk.

“Zane!” The little boy said again, “Please, make ice!”

“I… I don’t…” Echo fumbled over his words. Make ice? 

Oh, he recalled something Morro had said to him once, when the ghost was discussing his own mastery over the wind. Zane uses ice. He couldn’t do anything like that. Did this little boy think…

“I’m terribly sorry, mister ninja,” The woman bowed her head, “He just gets so excited. You’re his favorite.”

“I… understand.” He didn’t know what to say. The boy was looking at him so expectantly, and Killow still hadn’t returned. “Um, I am not actually…”

It’s my face, isn’t it? Echo knew he looked just like Zane. He was designed to be his replica, after all. Jay and Nya had said it as well. He was… Echo Zane. He was a near perfect copy. Not perfect at all.

“Please, please! Can you do spinjitsu?” The boy pleaded, and his mother placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m not… Zane,” Echo felt the electricity in his body thrumming loudly in his head. “My apologies. I am not Zane, I’m… I can’t do anything like that.”

“Oh,” The woman seemed to finally look at his face closely, no doubt noticing the faults. The way Echo’s features were not quite symmetrical, the way his eyes were a dull yellow instead of bright and cheery blue. “ Oh. That’s our mistake, sir! I’m so sorry! You just look so… Well, if there’s ever a look-alike competition, they should call you!”

Echo gave her a strained smile. “I have gotten that before. I’m sorry I couldn’t show you any powers, though.”

The boy frowned, but nodded. “Do you like Zane?”

“I… I hear he’s wonderful.”

“He’s so amazing!” The little boy grinned, “He’s a robot and a ninja, isn’t that the coolest? And he’s got ice powers that go–” He made a whooshing motion with his hand, “Like that –!”

“Come on, now, let’s leave him be,” the mother set a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, again. Have a nice day,” She said curtly, before pulling the kid away and back down the street. Echo stood there, dumbfounded.

He is amazing, isn’t he? So very amazing. His father’s true son, his most perfect invention.

And I’m just…

“Echo!” Killow’s voice was loud behind him, and the robot turned around. He came back? Of course he did– The man had kept all his other promises so far, too. Of course he would return. Echo smiled.

“Violet needed to blow off some steam, so she left, but,” He seemed a little worn, “There’s room on my bike for you, we can go back to headquarters now. Unless there’s anywhere else you wanted to go?”

“I do not believe so,” Echo shook his head, “Unless there are any other essentials you think I may need for motorcycling?”

Killow put a hand to his chin, considering this. “There is one thing.”

—-----------------

They had pulled up to another store. Killow led him inside, and he saw rows upon rows of shell-like head coverings.

“Helmets,” Killow said, pointing to the one on his own skull. “A must-have. Pick out whichever you like.”

Echo nodded and perused the selection. They came in quite a large variety. Killow had one that only covered the top and sides of his head, but Echo found ones that covered the whole face, obscuring it from view.

Upon one of the shelves sat a black helmet. It was designed to completely cover the head, a sharp red visor blocking the eyes from the outside world. Echo picked it up. It was heavy in his hands.

“That it?” Killow raised a brow, “You should try it on first! See if it feels right, you know?”
Echo put on the helmet, and walked over to a nearby mirror.

He couldn’t see his face at all. Only the sight of the black helmet and red visor reflecting the light of the store back at him. 

He couldn’t see Zane.

“This one,” Echo said, “It feels right.”

Chapter Text

Morro had been mid-game when Echo returned to the room. He almost dropped the rook in his hand in surprise. He didn’t recognize him for a moment– a black leather jacket was tossed over his shoulders, and more obviously, there was a helmet covering his face.

It was certainly… s omething . The robot’s whole aura was thrown off, in Morro’s opinion. But, he chose not to say anything about it.

“Can I play next round?” He stood beside the table, and Morro could make out the glow of his eyes underneath the visor, bright and curious. 

“Sure,” Morro shrugged, “But I’ve been practicing all day, so I won’t go easy on you.”

He couldn’t tell what kind of expression the other was making under the helmet, and frowned. Can’t he take it off?

Echo took up Gizmo and shuffled into the small robot’s seat and it settled into his lap to watch them play. The jacket was new, no decorations on it besides a couple zippers, tag still swinging from the sleeve. It was a strange choice for someone like Echo to wear. But if he was insisting on joining a biker gang, perhaps a helmet and jacket were the obvious choice of clothing.

Morro slid his rook across the board without thinking, and Gizmo beeped at him.

“Damn.” He just checked himself, didn’t he? 

“You didn’t have to end early for my sake,” Echo said, voice soft. Morro shook his head.

“It’s…” He focused on setting the pieces up, gaze downwards. “Whatever. I know you’re itching to play anyway.”

Gizmo hopped out of Echo’s lap to go occupy itself, leaving the two of them sitting there.

“You said you played all day?” The robot sounded elated. Morro tried to ignore the tiredness that seeped into his words. “I apologize for leaving you here.”

“I could have left if I wanted to,” Morro didn’t meet his eyes, “I just didn’t feel like it.”

Echo shuffled as he moved his arms up to remove his helmet, gently setting it onto the table besides the board. It was his usual face, bright yellow eyes and smooth coppery metal. Morro wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but his gaze lingered on the other for just a spare moment.

“It’s your move first,” The robot gave him a lop-sided smile.

Right. Chess. Morro’s hand ghosted over one of his pawns, pushing it forward.

“I don’t mean to distract you, but…” Echo spoke as he moved his own piece, and Morro listened, continuing their turns back and forth. “I was wondering something.”

“What?” 

“You know Zane, right?” The quiet clicking of pieces and even fainter whirring of Echo’s fans filled the room. “Not me, I mean… my brother. The real Zane.”

Why is he bringing this up? “Uh,” Morro made a move and he wasn’t quite sure what his thought process was, but it was too late now. “Yeah, I met him a couple times. Not directly or anything, though.”

He had some of Lloyd’s memories from the time spent in the boy’s head. Fragmented bits and pieces, though most of what he consumed was things useful to him– locations, technology… He didn’t need to know about Lloyd’s family. He didn’t care. He remembered the hot-headed fire ninja, and the earth ninja who turned into a ghost. Zane was… he had never really thought about the robot until he met Echo. He didn’t even understand what a robot was until he met Echo.

“Do you…” Morro looked up as the other spoke, yellow eyes unfocused and unable to meet his. “Nevermind. I am sorry. It is a stupid question.”

“Just ask. I don’t really care.”

“Okay,” Echo said evenly, and though he didn’t breathe, it seemed as though he was letting out a short sigh. “I was wondering if, when you see me, you think of him.”

Morro blinked at him. “...What?”

“It’s a stupid question!” Echo shook his head, throwing his hands in the air and hurriedly redirecting his attention back onto the board. “I am sorry. Ignore it. Let’s keep playing.”

Think of him? Morro was staring at the robot now, I mean, I guess… their faces are pretty similar, but it’s not like I ever talked to Zane.

The ghost kept playing his turns in silence, and an uncomfortable quiet settled between them. 

“Not really,” Morro said finally. “I know you better than I know him. I don’t know much about that Zane at all.”

“I see…” Echo’s voice was barely above a whisper, but his lips were slightly upturned at the edges. “I have been told he is amazing, so I…”

It was Morro’s turn, but he didn’t make a move, opting only to freeze his hands atop the table and look at Echo directly. “Listen,” He bit his lip, “I’ve barely even spoken to the guy, let alone befriended him. I don’t know if he’s amazing or not. He could be the worst person ever.”

“He couldn’t possibly be a bad person,” Echo furrowed his brow, “He is certainly wonderful.”

“I’m not denying that.” He pushed his bishop into place a bit aggressively. “Just saying, you don’t even know him, either.”

Why am I getting so up in arms about this? Morro exhaled deeply. Whatever. This doesn’t matter at all. And yet, he recalled distantly the first time he heard about the green ninja. A clipping in the paper as Morro slipped through the streets, fresh out of the Cursed Realm.

Green Ninja saves the city again, it read in bright bold text. The green ninja– not him, but some chump with blonde hair smiling proudly next to his family. Amazing. Incredible. Brave.

Morro recalled ripping the paper apart and letting it scatter in the wind.

“My father always told me Zane was perfect,” Echo said quietly.

“Maybe he was wrong,” Morro slid a rook into place. “Maybe he lied to you.”

Echo met him with a pawn, “...He would not lie about something like that.”

“I never met the guy, so I wouldn’t know,” Morro shrugged. “But I also wouldn’t know whether or not Zane is perfect,” he considered his next move. “I don’t get why you’re so fixated on that.”

“He’s perfect,” Echo repeated, not missing a beat, “And I am just… Me.”

“What’s wrong with that?” 

“I am supposed to be Zane. That is what I was told.”

“Well,” Morro frowned, voice harsh. “Sometimes people lie to us. Get over it.”

Despite the ghost’s bluntness, Echo smiled.

“You’re very honest,” The robot said, “I think it makes you a good friend.”

What?

“I’m not honest at all,” Morro eyed him, “I could be lying to you right now.”

“I can tell you are not,” Echo’s smile widened. “Because you told me you would not go easy on me, yet you are still losing.”

“What?!” He looked down at the board, an array of pieces clearly broadcasting that he was one move away from check on all fronts. Seriously?!

Echo giggled, “See? You are honest with your moves.”

“This doesn’t mean anything,” Morro glared at him, darkening in embarrassment, “Nothing at all.”

The robot’s smile didn’t go away, and Morro felt his stomach turning in annoyance. He averted his gaze, frowning at his pieces instead. Surely there’s a way to turn this around…

“I am not sure who I should be,” Echo was still speaking, “I was built as Zane,” His smile was gone, replaced by a forlorn expression, but a hint bittersweet. “Who am I if I am not myself? I know I am ‘me’, but ‘me’ is not Zane, like I’ve always thought.”

“...I don’t know,” Morro didn’t look at him. “I’m not the person to ask about something like that.” He swallowed and bit down whatever was stirring in his gut.

“Is there someone better I should ask, then?”

The ghost finally stared at him, dumbfounded, “What?”

Echo’s voice was serious, “Do you know someone better? Could I ask the computer? Um, I think they installed something in my head, but I haven’t really tried it much yet…”

“No, you can’t ask the computer. It doesn’t know the answer to that.”

“Then… who should I ask? Do you think the Quiet One knows?”

“Are you stupid?”

Echo gawked at him, “Of course not! I am built with a high-functioning brain.”

“Then your high-functioning brain is mal functioning.”

The robot frowned at him, “...Should I tell Killow?”

Morro barked out a laugh, clutching his chest as he nearly fell from his seat. “You’re too much, really!” It filled the room, cold and cynical, and he couldn’t see Echo’s reaction, because his eyes were squeezed shut and tears threatened to spill. After a few moments, he recomposed himself, leaning lightly on the table.

“I fail to see what is funny, but I am glad you are enjoying yourself for once,” Echo was smiling, bright as ever, and Morro squinted at him. “You have seemed a little down ever since we came here.”

“You really are dumb. Dumber than the ninja, even.” What did he mean, down?!

“Well… I can’t say for sure,” Echo tilted his head, “But if I am what you consider dumb, I would hate to know what you think about yourself…”

The robot’s eyes trailed to the gameboard again, and Morro followed his gaze, carefully analyzing the last few plays once again. This is…

He stared, jaw-tightening. He’d been in check for two turns now. Echo just hadn’t said a thing!

“What the hell?!” 

“I was waiting for you to notice,” Echo was still smiling, bright as a saint. “If you insist I am dumb…”

“Just, shut up!” Morro stood up, face once again dark with embarrassment, and he paused. He couldn’t flip the whole game over or toss the pieces, as much as he wanted to– No, that would mean admitting the other had played him. Instead, he just let out a loud growl. 

There was a crash, and the sound of metal clanging, and Morro realized he had popped one of the air vent covers completely off of the wall in his little outburst. Echo was giggling.

“Don’t be such a sore loser, now. Maybe you need another full day’s practice?” He teased, and Morro glared at him. Nobody calls me a loser–!

“You can go find somebody else to play with,” Morro hissed, “I’m done with you!”

Nothing.

The silence of the room was deafening. Truly, it had only been Echo’s laughter filling the space, the quiet whirring of fans in excitement and entertainment. But Echo had gone quiet now, and though Morro had shut his eyes in defiance before, he opened one just a tad to see the robot staring directly at him with an unreadable expression.

He looked… haunted, almost. Morro felt odd under his gaze, and immediately found something else to land his eyes on. The wall was looking particularly interesting today.

“We… we can play something else, if you want,” The robot was quieter than usual, less energetic, and something akin to guilt settled into Morro’s stomach. Oh, he hated it. “I could go ask for another game. Or, if you don’t want to, that’s fine too.”

Don’t sound like that, all pitiful and sad, Morro thought. The ghost felt queasy despite the fact he literally couldn’t eat, let alone vomit. It was a sensation close to what he felt that night in Stiix, when Wu offered him a hand and a few deceivingly sweet words. The kind of feeling that made him want to run away and hide in a hole, or perhaps dive headfirst into a pool of water. The way the salt crawled across his non-flesh sounded preferable at the moment.

He couldn’t bring himself to look back. Instead, he floated down and reclaimed his seat, Sheepishly working to set the pieces again. 

“Are you mad at me?” Morro’s hand clenched around the knight in his grasp as Echo spoke. “I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not,” was all the ghost offered him.

“...I do not think you are dumb. I’m sorry.”

“You wouldn’t know dumb or smart if they smacked you upside the head,” Morro chuckled dryly. “Don’t pretend you understand the difference. And quit apologizing.”

Echo went quiet again besides the faint buzzing of fans. Morro still refused to meet his eyes.

“You do not wish to leave, then?”

“What?”

“You said you were done,” He could feel an intense gaze on him, “With me.”

“I…” He squeezed the white pawn in his hand. Words were failing him. He didn’t intend to actually leave. Isn’t that much obvious by now? Would the other really force him to embarrass himself again, just like on those rocks? 

He frowned and said, “...I don’t trust these guys.”

It wasn’t necessarily an answer, but it said enough, didn’t it?

Echo raised a brow, “I don’t think they’re bad. Killow is very nice to me.”

“Being nice is how you get people to do what you want. It’s how you control people.”

“...Is it? I just try to be kind because I was taught to do so,” The robot looked a bit forlorn. “Isn’t it the same for you?”

“I’m not kind,” Morro spat, “And I’m definitely not honest. I think you’ve got the wrong impression of me. You should put an end to it now.”

The expression Echo gave him was a bit more lop-sided than usual, eyes dimming in confusion. “I don’t really get it, but… I won’t call you those things, if you don’t like that.”

Biting his lip, Morro focused on the game again. Of course, he’d hardly been focusing on his moves, so he was once again in a tough spot. 

Echo seemed to sense his change, “...We can stop now.”

“No. We’re finishing this game,” Morro replied, voice sharp. The other nodded in silence, and hesitantly made another move. Is he slipping up? No, it was just as smart as any of his other moves. Morro was the one not seeing the full picture time and time again.

The ghost looked up and met Echo’s gaze and regretted his choice. There was something he perceived as pity in those eyes. He frowned and looked again at the board. “It's a check, isn’t it?”

“It is. That’s why I said we could stop.”

“Don’t try to spare my feelings. I can handle losing again.”

“...Okay,” and a brief, “I’m very sorry.”

Morro’s teeth clenched without him thinking, “And why are you apologizing again?!”

The robot did not flinch. He never did, probably because he was incapable of doing so. But the light in his eyes flickered, and his shoulders shrank back. His mouth stayed open, as though he wanted to spew even more apologies, but he thought twice and closed it.

“I’m going to bed,” He announced instead, standing up and turning to face away. Morro couldn’t see his face as he added quickly, “Do not feel obligated to stay in this room for my sake. You are no longer trapped like at the lighthouse, right?”

What’s that supposed to mean? Morro’s head hurt, and a twist was pooling in his gut. Of course. It was an invitation to leave, wasn’t it? He’d overstayed his welcome, he was becoming a nuisance. 

At the lighthouse it was different. Echo was friendly because he had nobody else. He was kind because that was all he knew . 

It was too clear from the start . All of this ‘friendship’ had only been on the basis of necessity. Now that there were others, he had no place. And that was fine– Morro knew he shouldn’t have been there anyway.

“Okay,” was all the ghost offered in response. Echo had already retreated to the bedside, chattering quietly with Gizmo in the language of beeps that Morro didn’t understand. He was an outsider, after all.

—------------------------

Echo was making tea for someone.

When he turned to look who was sitting at his table, there was nothing but fuzz in the open air. But he didn’t worry too much– it was almost done steeping. Sooner or later, they would have to drink it.

The seagulls called from outside the window, waves crashing against the shore down below.

“Do you care for sugar?” He asked, and there was no response. Perhaps they didn’t hear?

He poured a cup and turned to set it on the table with gentle hands, then looked up to meet that person’s eyes. “Sugar?”
Jay frowned, “No.”

“There’s something I need to tell you,” His father said.

“Echo, I…” Nya placed a warm hand over his.

“I need–” said Morro.

That shape of a person sat across from him, and from it came all four voices, overlaying one another and incomprehensible as it spoke again.

“What was that? I couldn’t… hear you,” Echo uselessly put his hands in his lap. “What did you say?”

“...Need…”

“What do you need? Please, tell me. I’ll do my best to help!”

In that facsimile of a person, he saw an eyepatch. He saw a lab coat, he saw short black hair and he saw ghostly green hands reaching out to take his. 

“I need to leave.”

“Oh,” Said Echo, plain as ever. “Alright.”

That figure stood up and the teacup was knocked over, spilling brown liquid all over the counter. Gizmo did not appear to clean it up. Echo just stared at it.

“Goodbye,” That person said, all voices coming together in unison. 

“...Goodbye. Take care,” Echo gave them a smile. “Thank you for–”

Before he could finish, they were gone.

There was a loud knocking on the door.

“ Are you seriously dead in there? Open up!”

Echo sat up, blinking away the last traces of his sleep mode.

Just… a dream. He’d been getting those more frequently lately. 

The knocking continued, “I’m serious! I’m gonna break down your fucking door!”

“S.. sorry!” Echo shouted in response, scrambling off the bed to answer, “I am coming!”

As soon as he unlocked it, the door swung open to reveal Ultra Violet looming over him. She seemed impatient, if her glowering face was anything to go off of.

“I’m sorry… Did I keep you waiting long?”

“Whatever, let’s get going,” She huffed, grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him out. He hadn’t even had the chance to grab his helmet. “We’ve got places to be.”

“My..” He began, glancing back at the accessory still resting on the table in his room, but Violet had already shut the door and brought him all the way down the hall. In turn, he simply shrunk a little into his jacket, relegated to his fate. “Where are we going?”

He was genuinely curious about that. Why the hurry? Or perhaps, Violet was just inherently an impatient person. Despite the time they spent on a mission together, he still could not get a full reading on her personality, besides that she was more on the violent end, and that… he may have given her a bad impression before. Therefore, he was determined to get on her good side! He could do that, for sure!

Well… he wasn’t sure exactly how he could do that, but Morro had been a bit unfriendly at first too, and he was much kinder now, so surely treating Ultra Violet with patience and understanding could produce similar results. Echo nodded to himself, smiling. Yes, that will definitely work!

“Miss Violet, do you–” He started, but before he could finish his question, his head was slammed up against the wall, and a hand was clasped hard against his neck.

“It’s Ultra Violet, ” Her eyes were narrowed, danger seeping into her voice. “Do not fucking call me anything else, newbie.”

“Oh!” Echo shook his head, “I’m very sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you!” I’m already messing it up! He thought worriedly. No, he could definitely fix this. “Ultra Violet, then, um–”

“What? What could you possibly want?”

“Well… could you put me down? Ah… if you want to! Sorry, I don’t want to, uh-” He could feel he was fumbling a bit, stepping on eggshells. But surprisingly, she moved her hand off of his neck, though the other was still gripping his wrist, and she just snorted and continued dragging him along the hall without another word.

After a minute of silence, Echo worked up the courage to ask the question he meant to start with. “Ultra Violet, do you have a favorite book? Since I am on the mainland now, I am sure there are many books I have never had the chance to read, so I am hoping to find some new ones, and–”

“I don’t read books,” She said, sharp and pointed, without looking back at him. “And I don’t want to be your friend.”

Echo frowned for a moment, but quickly replaced it with a neutral smile. He said nothing else and spent the rest of their walk making intense eye contact with the floor.

—------------------------

Morro leaned forward on the table, head lowered, “Hey.”

The little cleaner robot did not move. Really, an incredible poker face.

Letting out a sigh, Morro set down his hand of cards, “I swear to that decrepit old man if–”

Matching him, the robot also tossed down its cards. All aces.

“Are you serious?!” Morro had half a mind to toss the table. 

He’d gone out a bit ago and swiped a deck of cards from one of the gang members, mainly because if he had to look at that damn chess set another time today he figured he was going to dissipate on the spot. Poker was a game he was less familiar with, but it was pretty popular in the Cursed Realm– a lot of gamblers ended up there, after all. So he’d picked up the rules and was half decent, at least. It turned out Gizmo also knew the rules and was willing to play.

But of course, the little robot was a known cheater.

Morro didn’t even know how he did it. The ghost had kept his eyes on the deck the whole time, and yet– and yet! At some point or other, that little pest had to give him the slip. There was no way he was producing a hand like that on pure luck!

Gizmo beeped at him in offense, as though he couldn’t believe Morro was doubting his skills, and Morro simply shot him a glare.

He looked up at the clock. It was around eight in the evening, and Echo had been gone when Morro got back an hour or two ago.

Off frolicking with the those freaks, probably, Morro had shrugged. It wasn’t like he was in any place to really judge these people’s line of work. Hell, he’d tried to curse every realm. But it left a poor taste in his mouth to see Echo willingly hang around with them. He seemed fully convinced they were wholesome, good folks bent on bringing safety and kindness to the world, or something like that… Hopefully soon enough, he’d see it wasn’t a place for him and decide to leave. 

Despite that, though, Morro didn’t really think the robot was dumb. He had said that before, but… well, he could tell Echo had a good head on his shoulders. The ghost chewed on his lip as he listened to the soft whirring Gizmo let out as it shuffled the cards. Should I apologize for that? Would that be the good friend thing to do? He really wasn’t cut out for this, was he?

Morro looked at the clock again. The good friend thing to do would probably be to check up on the guy, at least. He’d heard some talk among the bikers earlier about there being a ‘game night’ or something, and if he knew at least anything about Echo, it was that he liked games. 

When he swiped the card deck, his first thought was wondering if the robot knew any card games, and whether he’d be excited to learn. Morro had been easily able to picture the way his face would brighten up at the suggestion, eagerly asking to learn. He’d probably be good at it too, if his chess skills were anything to go off of…

“Hey,” Morro said again, looking directly at Gizmo, “You wanna do me a favor?”

He couldn’t go out and talk to Echo in front of all the gang members. The last thing he wanted to do right now was expose his identity, not when he was supposed to be dead. If word somehow got back to the ninja, they’d probably track him down– and they’d give Echo trouble too, for sure. Not that it mattered to Morro.

Gizmo beeped inquisitively, a bit of a suspicious air to it. The ghost just grinned a bit in response, “Maybe like this, I’ll figure out how you managed to pull that move earlier.”

He extended a hand and set it on the top of the robot’s head, letting his palm phase inward.

—------------------------

Ultra Violet led him to a new room he’d yet to see– a sizable room that appeared to normally be a lounge, though a table and chairs had been set up in the center. Echo had assumed based on the scale of the room that more people would arrive, but the table was only set up for four– and two people were already seated.

Killow waved when they arrived, his usual friendly smile on his face, and while Echo was still a bit shaken by his interaction with Violet earlier, he still waved back sheepishly. 

Harumi was also there, masked as usual, sitting up straight in her chair and seemingly lost in thought. At least, Echo figured she was distracted, because she didn’t greet him. Maybe that’s presumptuous…

“Sit down,” Violet said harshly, letting go of Echo’s wrist and taking a seat around the table herself. Echo nodded and hurried over to follow suit, finding himself in the seat between Killow and Ultra Violet, directly across from Harumi, who was finally looking directly at him. They nodded in acknowledgement, and Echo sent her a smile.

“So,” Killow clapped his hands together, “Tacos will be out in a few, as usual, but!” Echo didn’t dare ask what a taco was, instead spending a solid minute trying to look it up in his head. “For some reason, my deck of cards is missing, so we’ll have to figure out another game for tonight.”

“Seriously?” Violet spat, “How did you lose a deck of cards?”

“It just disappeared!” Killow said defensively, “It’s fine, I have other games.”

“We are playing a game?” Echo perked up.

“That we are!” The large man grinned, “Every Wednesday night, the three of us play games and eat good food, and the Quiet One wanted to extend the invite to you, kid.”

Echo beamed at Harumi from across the table. She tilted her head.

“You’ll be working closely with Killow and Violet,” The Quiet One said, voice even, but kind, “I want you all to get along well.”

“Oh!” Echo set his palms down on the table, “Ultra Violet has informed me she does not like to be called otherwise. Though I’m sure it’s an honest mistake!” He looked at Ultra Violet, who was staring at him like he just grew three heads.

“Is that so? I’ve never been told that,” Harumi’s voice had an air of amusement, and something else Echo couldn’t place. Is it not a mistake then? Or maybe, Ultra Violet simply does not want me to call her anything else, because we’re not friends… That seemed reasonable. Now he just looked silly.

Echo shuffled a bit in his seat, “Sorry. Maybe it is me who has made the mistake…”
Killow laughed a bit awkwardly, patting him on the shoulder. “It’s no problem, Echo. Don’t think too hard on it, alright? Oh, food’s here!” He slapped the table with his free hand, and a gang member from outside set a large plate down on the table. “Hell yeah!”

On the plate was what Echo could presume were these ‘tacos’-- his search told them they were a dish of a corn-based shell filled with various toppings, mainly meat, cheese, and beans. While he was incapable of eating, he could appreciate the culinary arts. After all, his father had him prepare many meals back in the lighthouse, especially when the man got too old to do much cooking himself. Echo quite enjoyed it– he liked being able to make something for someone else, even if he couldn’t appreciate the result in the way it was meant to be appreciated. Wasn’t it enough to appreciate someone else’s satisfaction?

I made Zane with the ability to eat and process food, his father told him, once. Though, while he could taste and understand flavors and ingredients, the food just went through him. It’s about the experience. Echo held the distinct image of his father hunched over his workbench, pen in one hand and his other splayed out over the wooden desk. I wanted him to be as human as possible, to feel what I feel. He always enjoyed cooking.

I enjoy cooking, Echo remembered saying. He had been made with spare parts, a mimicry of the complexity the real Zane contained– many things had to be sacrificed for his creation. He was not made to be human. He was made with scraps, lucky to even exist.

That’s nice, His father said, the crinkle of a smile on his lips. I’m glad to hear that.  

After that, Echo liked to imagine that even Zane would be impressed with his skills. That perhaps he could teach him a thing or two.

“As far as games go, I have monopoly, and uh,” Killow’s voice led Echo out of his thoughts, bringing him back to the current reality. “That one with the headbands and cards. You know the one.”

“I’m not playing monopoly with you fuckers again,” Ultra Violet was now leaning back precariously in her chair, and Echo had to hold back the urge to warn her about the dangers of such an act. He knew it would not be well received. 

“So the headband one?”

“Whatever.”

Killow tilted his head to Harumi, “Thoughts?”

“That’s fine. Echo, do you know the rules?”

Echo jumped when he was spoken to directly, “Ah, no. I don’t know the rules. I am sorry.”

“That’s not a problem,” Harumi’s face was not visible behind her mask, but he assumed she had one of her easy smiles on her lips. He smiled back. “It isn’t too complex. Killow, why don’t you explain?”

“Sure thing,” The bigger man nodded as he began to pass out game pieces, pressing a plastic strap of some kind into Echo’s hands. “It’s like this– you’ll have a card with something on it on your head, and we have to describe it, and you have to guess what it is within a limit.”

A simple game then! Echo nodded. He’d never played a game like this, but Harumi was right– it wasn’t complex at all. If anything, he was excited to get started. Morro could surely attest to the fact he had a bit of a competitive bone in his body (well, if he had bones).

I wish Morro could play… He thought idly, putting the ‘headband’ onto his head. Perhaps he could ask to borrow the game to play it with the ghost, though he wasn’t sure how much fun Morro would find it… Would it be too simple for him? Would he think Echo is implying his chess skills are so bad he needs a far less complicated game to play? I wouldn’t want that.

“You can go first, Echo,” Harumi nodded, and Killow pressed one of the index cards to Echo’s forehead. 

“Um… Okay, what kind of thing am I?” He tried to contain his excitement just a little bit, but it was hard. This game already seemed fun! 

“Best damn thing on this Earth,” Ultra Violet said flatly, a bit of a deadpan smile on her face.

“The thing they make hand sanitizer out of,” Killow said.

What?! Echo quickly realized this game was much harder than he initially observed. He couldn’t look up the things he didn’t know… but he didn’t know this!

“When people drink it, they become intoxicated,” Harumi offered. 

“Oh, I see,” Echo nodded, “Is my card an alcoholic beverage of some kind?”

“That’s right!” Killow laughed, “See? You’re a natural. Let’s go again!”

Echo beamed, laughing with him. While the game was simple, it really was quite fun!

The merriment was interrupted with a sharp skid of a chair. Ultra Violet stood up and the chains hanging off of her boots clicked as she stomped towards the door. Before Echo could voice his concern, she was already speaking.

“Smoke break. Bye.”

“You never smoke outside,” Killow said.

“Don’t wanna disturb the baby.”

“What?” Killow replied, slow for a moment, “He’s not in here, is–”

“Violet,” Harumi said coolly, “Sit back down.”

Ultra Violet did not budge, back still turned to the table. Echo looked between the three of them incredibly unsure, and a bit uncomfortable, but not entirely certain why. He just had… a feeling. This all felt too familiar to him, that sinking pang that crept up his gears, the clouding of his head. He wasn’t wanted here, was he?

“I can’t do this,” Violet said, plain and forward.

“Sit down,” Harumi’s voice was low.

“I fuckin’ can’t! I really can’t!” Boots jingled again as a hand slammed onto the table and disturbed the pile of cards. A few fluttered away, some in Echo’s direction. Cute images of items entered his vision, simple oddities he’d only heard about in passing, but could now put faces to the names, so to speak. 

Harumi was stock still, “Sit down.”

“Listen,” Ultra Violet leaned in a bit close, her dark eyes sharp and cold, nails digging into the table. “I don’t know what kind of daycare you’re running here, but I don’t want to be a part of it. I don’t want to play these stupid ass games, princess. I don’t want to babysit!” A harsh finger was pointed directly at Echo.

Ah. His suspicion was correct, then.

He tried to squash down the disappointment bubbling somewhere within him, unnatural and bothersome, as he’d done many times before. It was almost instinctive, how fast he managed to suppress it and retain his light, neutral smile, hands folded in his lap as he quickly thought of a way to diffuse the situation. Make things right again.

In the past, there was one method that had never failed to remedy his father’s bad moods. So Echo stood up, chair scraping slightly against the floor.

“I will go,” He said, not a suggestion, but a fact. “Thank you for the company.”

Killow set a hand on his arm and began to ease him back into his seat, “That won’t be necessary at all. Sit down, kid,” The man huffed, and despite Echo’s newfound strength, he was still no match for a man of pure muscle. “Vi, don’t act like a little kid. Callin’ it a daycare, but you’re throwing a tantrum.”

At this point Ultra Violet was sitting in her seat once more, seemingly having been told something by Harumi to coax her back down. In one hand she held a long white stick with smoke pouring out of it, occasionally letting it meet her lips, puffs of that same smoke leaving it as well. Echo was inspecting it closely, trying to reason what it may be, but Ultra Violet saw his gaze and sent him a sharp glare that had him turning his head away so quickly he was filled with fear and expectancy of the appendage falling off.

Though, while that may have happened in his old body, his upgrades had made him sturdier. He was fine, head and all, not a screw out of place. And if his hands were curled tight in his lap, gaze heavy and focused as he tried to make himself as small as possible in the face of the conflict he started, nobody said anything.