Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Something was wrong with the Realm Crystal. 

It was hot. Too hot and too cold. Much too cold. It crackled and sparked in his hands, his own Elemental Powers churning and raging almost painfully. 

Continuously falling through portal after portal was painful. Excruciating depending where he landed. It ripped at him, tearing his being apart, unraveling his tissues and organs and skin before slamming him back together again as he hit the ground, groaning and sprained. Sometimes Lloyd wasn’t sure if still had everything inside him. Sometimes it felt like his lungs were never put back together correctly or his heart was just a little too far to the left.

 Morro was never in that position. He was dead. He had no ribs to bruise. 

The crystal burned in his hands, and tingled raw against his fingers. Crackling magic hummed so loudly it felt like his ears were bleeding. Who knows—maybe they already were. 

Morro snarled and lunged, dust kicked up in his wake. Unnatural wind yanking him forward. 

Lloyd jumped to his aching feet and stumbled away, the noxious air of the place making it hard to breathe. Lloyd dove to the side, wheezing. It smelt like death. 

“Coward!” Morro’s form wavered, flickering as his eyes glowed with vile green and corrupted magic. His clawed hands swiped at Lloyd, the hands were almost solid and Lloyd couldn’t breathe. “You never deserved to be the Green Ninja—Wu never should have picked you—!” Morro shrieked, his ghostly form shedding humanity as his anger grew. 

Lloyd was terrified. 

He could feel it. Feel Morro and the winds he controlled. He could feel them clawing into him, sharp and cold. He could still feel the rotten traces of Morro’s soul that clung to his bones and gnawed at his own soul. It hurt. He could feel Morro’s memories, pain and hunger and hurt and betrayal and anger. So, so much anger. 

It hurt to think. 

It hurt to breathe . 

Lloyd desperately shook his head and pulled at the magic of the crystal, his vision was black the edges, something was crawl along his skin, he just had to get out—away from Morro–away from—

Lloyd fell. 

Magic pulled and crackled and tore and everything hurt. He held the Crystal tighter, the something inside him crying out as he was pulled through time and colors and space and something so very black he couldn’t open his eyes without losing the dregs of sanity he clung to and—

He can’t, he can’t, he can’t—

Something was different—

He can’t, he can’t, he can’t, hE CAN’T—

Something was wrong with the Realm Crystal—

HE CAN’T, HE CAN’T, HE CAN’T, HE CAN’T, HE CAN’T—!

Something was—

HE CAN’T, HE CAN’T, HE CAN’T, HE CAN’THECAN’THECAN’THECAN’THE CAN’THECAN’THECAN’THECAN’THECAN’THECAN’THE CAN’THECAN’THECAN’THECAN’THECAN’THECAN’THE CAN’THECAN’THECAN’THECAN’THECAN’THECAN’THE CAN’THECAN’THECAN’T—

Lloyd fell out of the air, crashing onto something, clatters and clangs and pots and plants and wood beams and metal things and candles and books and too many glass things. Lloyd fell and hit head and rolled to a stop. Lloyd shook as he stood, something warm soaking through his gi and dripping down his face. His ankles hurt. Glass crunched under his feet and something ricocheted off his head and thunked somewhere to his side but he couldn’t—

Where was—

Where was Morro—

Where—

There were shelves, lots and lots of shelves. Filled with pots and statues and balls and candles and books. Everything was covered in years old dust and—

There were so many things. His head buzzed painfully and every bone in him screamed. Something was wrong, something was very, very wrong and Morro was—

Morro was…

Lloyd turned around, looking for the vengeful spirit. 

Nowhere to be seen—

“Hello,” 

Lloyd just about jumped out of his skin. 

He spun around, nearly tripping over himself in the process, more glass crunching under his feet. 

There…there was a man. Floating…A red cap billowing around him, robes and sashes and a large complicated gold pendant tied together to form a mystical appearance. He had a neatly trimmed bread and wide set eyes. Lloyd’s powers sung and cried under his skin and in his bones, they whispered and spoke to him, telling him about this man. He was powerful, skilled and knowledgeable. Dangerous. (Too many whispers and not enough of nothing for him to really know what was happening.)

He was looking at Lloyd with worry. (But no recognition.) 

Lloyd’s legs shook, and the sticky warmth continued to spread across his side. His heart was beating in his ears and he’s pretty sure had glass in his hands. 

Where…where was he?

(::)

Doctor Steven Strange was no stranger to meeting new people.  

But this stranger, this…boy, who couldn’t be older than sixteen, had fallen through a vortex and crashed into the Sanctum, a place that wasn’t found unless it desired to be and he made quite the mess because of his fall. 

Though…it…wasn’t a very kind fall. 

He was shaking, curling in on himself. Obviously in pain, blood soaking through his uniform, blood matted in his white-blond curls. There were cuts everywhere and with the way he was favoring one leg, it might’ve been broken. 

And he couldn’t be older than sixteen. 

Peter’s age. 

Oh. 

He was staring at Steven. His green eyes were wary and scattered. He might’ve been concussed as well. 

The kid’s eyes darted around, breathing too quickly. His eyes settled back on Steven, eyes hardening. His stance settled into a defensively trained maneuver, tense as much as he could be.  

“Who are you?” His voice was firm, authoritative. Commanding. 

…

Scared. 

Steven wanted to frown. Where did this…well not child—but teenager , come from?

“I’m Doctor Steven Strange,” He felt a bit too formal, and the words came out warm, if not a little flat. He was nervous and confused, but he wanted to help. “But you can call me Doctor Strange,” Steven offered him a smile, hoping it would relax him. “And you are?” 

The boy’s mouth turned into a hard line, eyes searching Steven’s face. “...Llo–” He stopped, eyes narrowing. Steven could see him thinking. One of his hands clenching and unclenching. His eyes flicked around the crash zone, before zeroing in on Steven with a determination that was hard-won and cynical. “...The… Green Ninja, ” 

It had weight. The name, no—it was a title. Steven recognized it as a given title and not something the boy chose himself. The title had so much weight to it. The words were heavy, heavy with meaning and purpose. And there was more to it. There was a second part. The Green Ninja didn't sound complete, there was something else to it. Something The Green Ninja wasn’t saying. 

And then there was the first thing he said. The unfinished name. It started with an L. And…an ‘oo’ sound. 

The Green Ninja was still watching him, still searching him with his eyes. He was waiting, expecting something. 

After a moment, he frowned, looking away, mumbling to himself. His face twisted and blood started to drip from his clenched hands. The green and gold uniform—it was a gi, now that he looked at it closer—was being soaked through. 

“Here,” Steven stepped forward and The Green Ninja couldn’t suppress his flinch. “Let me help,” 

The Green Ninja leaned away, stumbling against the shelf. It creaked under his weight and something tipped and began to fall. The boy’s eyes widened, and Steven pulled on his abilities. 

It stopped mid air, golden runes and magics holding it firmly in place. 

The Green Ninja blinked. Staring at the magic, then turned to Steven, staring. Then stared back at the magic. His mouth opened and closed. A childish thoughtfulness and curiosity shining through his defensive exterior.  

“You—” He swallowed, his face pinching with pain. “You’re an Elemental Master?” 

…Elemental Master? 

Steven hummed. Swirling his fingers, the fallen vase floating back to its spot on the second-to-top shelf. The boy’s eyebrows furrowed at the display of power, a shaking hand reaching up to put pressure on his wound, almost absentmindedly. 

“No, I am not an Elemental Master,” Steven took slow steps forward, reaching a hand out. “But I can help you,” 

The blond’s mouth opened, before quivering closed. He stared long and hard at Steven’s hand. He glanced around again, looking for something. He screwed his eyes shut, mumbling again to himself. He opened his eyes and Steven swore he saw them glow. His eyes flicked between Steven’s hand and face. 

He sighed, deflating. A heavy tiredness crushing his shoulders. “Fine,” 

Steven’s mouth twitched into a frown. The boy didn’t take his hand but he did follow, however hesitantly, behind Steven. Wary emerald-gold eyes glaring and examining every corner he could see. Occasionally looking at Steven himself. 

It could have been curiosity or trained cautiousness. It could have been both. But it didn’t seem like both. It seemed like he was looking for something. Or someone. Anxious and vigilant about what or whoever that was. 

The Green Ninja fake coughed, sheepish expression blooming the farther they walked. 

“Hey uh—” The kid winced, nervousness in his step. “I’m…I’m sorry for breaking your stuff,” 

Steven smiled, he was a bit upset about it, but it wasn’t like it was the kid’s fault. He probably didn’t choose to be flung out of a vortex and crash into the Sanctum’s many artifacts. “It’s alright—those things were pretty old anyway,” They were magic, most of them would rebuild themselves and they could do without most of them anyway. They could always be remade and re-enchanted. There was nothing that couldn’t be fixed or replaced or missed dearly. 

It wasn’t a problem. 

A ghost of a smile flickered across the boy’s lips. He nodded, and continued looking around. He was relaxing but still not completely. 

Steven hummed and continued into the Sanctum. 

Hopefully he could get his name and figure out where and how he came here. It was powerful magic from what he saw. Ancient and uncontrolled. 

Steven caught another glance of his glowing eyes. 

Steven had a feeling the story would be very interesting.

Chapter Text

The boy had a lot of scars. 

Underneath the grim, the dirt, and blood sticking to his freckled, chestnut skin, were scars. Lots and lots of scars. Long ones, short ones, ragged ones that looked like claw marks. Bites of all kinds. Lichtenberg scarring and knotted burns. Strange, wispy scarring that Steven couldn’t place, despite his medical background. 

It was a lot. 

But Steven dutifully ignored them and cleaned the Green Ninja’s injuries. He seemed subconscious about them anyway, it wouldn’t help if Steven asked where they came from or how he got them. Some of them…

Well Steven wasn’t sure if he wanted to know where people sized snake bites came from. 

Steven carefully began cleaning the wound on the boy’s head, the wound on his side was the worst of it besides his ankle, which was just sprained. (It would heal in a matter of days.) Steven felt The Green Ninja’s magic under his fingers. Under from where he was cleaning. It was powerful. It was almost overwhelming, especially the first time he felt it. 

When he first touched him, moving to clean out the glass in his hands, he felt the magic reverberate deep in his bones, writhing as he cleaned, already moving to heal it’s master. It was as if he stepped underneath a waterfall, it poured and pounded and was moving so fast. It roared in his ears, loud and powerful and raw and unrestrained. It was Green and ancient and infinite and connected to everything . Part of it hissed and coiled and was dark and corrosive and sinister and foxish. Destructive and dangerous. And the other part that was Gold and kind and elegant and twisting and clever and very, very tired. Hurt almost. Sleeping and bleeding out creation itself. 

It was…

Incredible. 

The amount of magical potential the boy had was staggering. Steven was almost intimidated by the sheer force of it all. The amount of it all. And he didn’t even seem to be aware of the amount that he had. Well, perhaps he did but not entirely. Steven could feel the layers, thick, rich and deep. God-like power just waiting. Sleeping in the boy’s bones and waiting in the depths of his soul to be unlocked and used. 

And with the way those layers of magic were interacting with each other. In perfect harmony while still rebelling against parts of each other—it was…

It should have been impossible. 

It should have torn him apart from the inside out, sending piercing deadly light through his molecules and tripping him apart at the seams. It should have been painful. It should have been excruciating to just… live. 

Steven knew, he’s seen it happen in visions and happen to colleagues. It was horrible and gruesome and never left anything untouched after the poor host was burnt to little more than a black stain and a memory by their own magic. 

Everything in moderation—and that included magic. 

And yet the Green Ninja was juggling it all. Doing a dance that must’ve taken years to perfect, years and years of practice and meditation to just be able to breathe properly with unraveling your own tissues and incinerating whatever was around you.

It would have been awe inspiring if the boy wasn’t a boy. Because at his age that kind of practice would have been impossible to complete. Not nearly impossible—just, impossible. It took time to master your own magic. Time, lots and lots of time. 

And at the age the Green Ninja probably was at, he wouldn't have had that time. Never mind the fact that he shouldn't have had that time in the first place. As it should have killed him. 

But it didn’t. 

Because he was sitting there, letting Steven clean and bandage his wounds. Calm and tired. Despite the raging storm of Green, Gold and Black Purple that was tearing through him. But not hurting him. 

He was an oddity. A rare and impossible oddity. He was young too, with too much magic and too much talent. And, with the unrestrained, visceral feel to the magic—he was being trained but too broadly to truly hone to the magic to the edge it could be. 

He could be so much more. If only he had the correct teacher—

…

Oh. 

Well.

That certainly was a thought. Wasn’t it? 

(::)

The dude kept staring at him. Steven—or Doctor Strange he guessed.  

It was a little weird—and it was definitely different then the normal kind of staring Lloyd was used to. There were the people stares and the enemy stares. People’s stares were hungry, they stared at him because he was the Green Ninja, he was famous. Pretty much everyone’s seen his face. Lloyd’s seen the internet threads about him, they were pretty nice at best and overly sexualized at the worst. And then there were the enemy stares. Enemy stares were cold and angry, sharp and predatory. They wanted to hurt him and Lloyd knew it. He could feel it just being around them. It made him sick sometimes how potent their hatred and desire for violence was. Sometimes those stares were worse than the people’s stares. 

But Doctor Strange’s stares were different. They weren’t so much as stares as they were looks. Looks he wasn’t used to receiving. The man had Elemental Power—magic of some kind—but he was pretty insistent that it wasn’t Elemental Power. Lloyd felt it when the man’s power brushed against his own, it felt weird. It was different from the rest of the ninjas’. It was probably closer to Wu’s than anyone else's. But it wasn’t quite Wu’s either. It was more Bronze than the White-Gold Wu had. Lloyd’s Gold was different. It was just Gold. 

He knew the moment Doctor Strange felt his own magic, he went ridge. A surprised almost startled look flashing through before it smoothed back to neutrality. A mild look of interest covering anything else. The man had a good poker face. Lloyd let him experience an echo of his own, it wasn’t a big deal. If the guy wanted to hurt him he would’ve already did it when he was panicked out of his own mind and bleeding all over the floor. He might attack him later but….but that was a future Lloyd problem. Now Lloyd was tired and hurt and aching and was absolutely spent in every way he could be. Physically, mentally, emotionally…spiritually. Turns out getting possessed really screws you up. 

(His fingers still twitched against his will sometimes. Whether that was from his own tremors or the leftover Influence of Morro—Lloyd didn’t know. Maybe he didn’t want to know. Either way it was prime ignoring material.) 

Lloyd needed to get home. He didn’t know where he was. Where Morro was and where the Realm Crystal was—

Oh. 

Oh no—the Realm Crystal. 

Lloyd jerked away from Doctor Strange, looking frantically around, hoping to the First Master that it was somewhere—

“Green Ninja?” 

Lloyd flinched. 

His breath shuttered in and out of him, and he turned shaky eyes to the Doctor. The man’s brows furrowed in worry and he pursed his lips in question. 

“Is something wrong?” 

Obviously. Lloyd, the big bumbling idiot that he was, lost the Realm Crystal. Something his brothers fought for, something Cole died for, something—

Lloyd nodded. “I—I lost something. It–” Lloyd raised his bandaged hands, showing the rough size of the Realm Crystal. “It’s–it’s a big crystal, blue and it glows a little and, it—” Lloyd swallowed, fingers twitching. “It’s what got me here if I could just find it—I—can’t—” He was being stupid, losing his cool in front of a stranger. It didn’t matter if the guy was helping him, it didn’t—

He was probably evil anyway and Lloyd was stupid for accepting help and stupid for letting his guard down and stupid for getting possessed in the first place and stupid for losing track of Morro who could be hurting so many people and it would all his fault and he was an absolute idiot for losing the Realm Crystal and—

“Breathe,” 

Lloyd sucked in a breath. He can’t—

“It’s okay,” 

It wasn’t—It wasn’t—it wasn’t— He’s not—

“There’s no need to worry,” 

There was! There really, really was—

“Everything will be okay, everything will work out,” Something dark and blurry moved in his peripheral. “Just breathe with me okay?” 

His lungs were filled with glass—

Morro was going to hurt people—

He was going to hurt Lloyd—

“1, 2, 3, 4–” 

Lloyd inhaled, sharp and painful. He held it as the voice counted, everything in him screamed and he wanted to scream and cry and beg for it to stop—

“5, 6, 7, 8–” 

Air clawed against his throat and stabbed against his mouth, but the air went out and more came in. 

It hurts. 

“1, 2, 3, 4–” 

His Elemental Powers rumbled in his bones and crackled against the roof of his mouth, clawing against the foggy air in his lungs and trying to heal and hurt and be good and filling him with the urge to crush something—

“5, 6, 7, 8–” 

It hurts—

But it wasn’t—it wasn’t as bad–it wasn’t—

“1, 2, 3, 4–” 

Maybe he could—

“5, 6, 7, 8–” 

Yeah maybe could—

“1, 2, 3, 4–”

Yeah could—

“5, 6, 7, 8–” 

Breathing, yeah, yeah he could—

“1, 2, 3, 4–”

He could breathe, he could do that—yeah—

“5, 6, 7, 8–”

He could—

He…oh…

Lloyd breathed out. His hands trembled and he was…

Okay and…

Oh…

Oh .

“...Are you alright now?” 

Lloyd’s face burned, shame crawling up through his lungs, thick tears clogged the back of his throat. Stupid, stupid, stupid—

Lloyd sniffed. Looking away, picking at the bandages wrapped around his hands. Stupid. “...yeah..” He could breathe but at what cost? He was—

Oh First Master. He just had a breakdown in front of some rando—he just—

Oh Spinjitzu Master, he was so stupid. 

Doctor Strange hummed, he probably didn’t believe him. 

They sat in silence for a bit. Lloyd just sat there, nearly choking on the left over tears and rampant shame and Doctor Strange carefully watched. Patient. Patient in a way Lloyd hated. He hated it because it reminded him too much of Wu. He didn’t want to be reminded of Wu right now. After his stupid breakdown. His stupid fit. Wu was always uncomfortable with them, standing a couple feet away and watching as he tried in vain to pull in his tears and to breathe properly . Or…or sometimes he just left. It was fine, it was fine. It was always fine. He always calmed himself down, stopped breathing so inefficiently and being a baby over nothing. Sure it—it always took a lot longer than he wanted it to and sometimes he felt like passing out or–or just crying some more. But–but it worked usually and—he just—

He hated it. He hated it so, so much. 

But…

But Doctor Strange hadn’t left. He was patient but it was…he wasn’t making any faces or giving off any vibes that were…he was…

It was…

…

Nice.

“May I touch you?” 

What—

He didn’t—

Why would he be asking that?

…

He…

He nodded because what else could he do? 

Say no? 

Doctor Strange nodded, slowly, so Lloyd could see him the whole time, and continued to methodically wrap his forearm. 

Lloyd wanted to hide. He wanted to curl up into a pitiful ball of Demigod-Dragon-Oni-ness, hide in some dark, rocky hole and never leave until he died. Then he wouldn’t have to live with himself and the horrible burning shame that was squatting in his stomach and throat like an overbearing mother. Constantly there—reminding him how useless and attention-seeking he was, even if it never did anything, Lloyd could still feel it. It was there and it wasn’t going away. 

And Lloyd wanted to die. But…

But dying from shame wasn’t very ninja-like behavior. Dying with honor was—and there was nothing honorable about freaking out about losing something like a little kid. A child. Lloyd was older now—because of that tea he was sixteen, at least his body was supposedly sixteen. That’s roughly how old the rest of the ninja were. So–so that’s how old he should be. 

And he did lose the Crystal. That was on him, he shouldn’t have freaked out about it but he still lost it. It was his fault and his responsibility. The Crystal was his responsibility. And he lost it. 

And he lost Morro. Who could be anywhere. 

Flying around, causing ghostly terror and possibly killing little kids. Maybe he was stealing stuff, maybe he was stealing people. 

Lloyd paused, Morro stealing people? Lloyd suddenly had the image of Morro laughing manically with a grandma over his shoulder, while she hit him with her walker and he flew off into the sunset; like some twisted version of a happily ever after. It was a weird thought. A dumb one even. And It was totally a possibility. As stated before—it was a weird one—what use would random people have to the ghost? He was dead and they were in a completely separate realm. What use would random alternate realm people have? The magic was different here, it was sparser and denser in random cold spots and it tasted different to his own powers as well but Morro was still the Master of Wind. Dead or not, still though, being dead probably didn’t negate any of his powers. In fact being dead might’ve made them stronger. 

Hm. 

That was a thought. Morro being dead making his powers stronger. Was that a possibility? Did death do anything to Elemental Powers? Did they change them in anyway—in reality Lloyd didn’t have any more data points beside Morro. Who was dead. When a Master died their powers passed on to the next of kin that was worthy and stronger enough spiritually to hold them—more often than not a child or a previously chosen successor. But Morro didn’t choose anyone and he certainly didn’t have any kids when he was alive. Did Morro have anyone like that? Probably not, he was sad and lonely and so angry and—

“Green Ninja?” 

Lloyd startled. Oh First Spinjitzu Master—how long was in his own head? 

Lloyd blinked and noticed that—yeah, everything was wrapped up. He looked kinda dumb with all the bandages and everything. He never liked being bandaged up like this. It made him feel weak and sad—like a wet dog. Even though it happened a lot when he was younger. 

He—he must’ve zoned out the whole time. Weird. It was stupid of him to lose track of time like this but in his defense he’s had a really hard last two weeks—at least…he thought it was two weeks. Time was really messed up when your body’s being puppeted by corrupted magic and your soul’s being held hostage by another, angrier soul. What if it was more? What if he was locked in there for a whole month? Locked in his own body for a whole month? What if—

Doctor Strange was looking at him. 

Lloyd didn’t like it. 

Lloyd breathed in—

Yanking up all the decorum and grace and adulty-ness that was beaten into him. 

And breathed out—

And shoved it all into his spine and the rest of his stupid fidgety limbs. He could do this, he could do this, he could do this—

“Sorry,” Lloyd clenched his hands to keep them from trembling. “Could…could you repeat that?” First he had a major freak out and now he zoned out like he didn’t even care about what the guy was saying? It was almost like he was back at Darkley’s—

Doctor Strange’s mouth twitched in a frown, his cape rustling around his feet. “I…” He looked like he wanted to say something. Like it was killing him not to ask—it was masked (again, good poker face.) but it looked like when Cole wanted to ask if he was okay or something. It wasn’t exactly the same but similar enough for Lloyd to recognize it when he saw it. 

“I was wondering if you had anywhere to go, you mentioned that you…” The man paused, his eyes thoughtful. “...Misplaced the artifact that got you here,”

Wonderful reminder Doc. 

Lloyd felt himself frown. No—no he…he didn’t have anywhere to go. Not with his stupid klutzy self losing one of the most ancient and powerful artifacts of Ninjago. 

“I…” Yeah–yeah he did lose it and now he was somewhere random in the Realm Tree and he had no idea where he was, what realm he was in. Let alone the fact that he had no idea how to get back without the Crystal that he lost. Lloyd's fingers twitched but he kept them still enough for Darkley’s standards. Fidgeting was unbecoming. 

“No…I..I don’t have anywhere to go—but–but–if I find the Crystal I won’t have to stay here—nothing against your realm of course but if I find it then I can just go back. After I find Morro of course and—”

Lloyd’s mouth snapped shut. 

“Sorry I…” Lloyd bit the inside of his cheek. “...Sorry,” 

Doctor Strange was giving him that look again. But there was something different about this time. This time it was filled with soft steel. 

“You may stay with me in the Sanctum until you find your artifact,” 

….Wait—

What—

“And you mentioned finding someone else as well,” The man nodded to himself. “Yes—I can help find both,” 

He wasn’t seriously—

“Only if you're okay with that of course?”

O–oh. He—he was serious. 

Lloyd opened his mouth, wanting to say no, because there was no way he’d impose and—

But–but he really didn’t have anywhere to go. He had no friends here, no ninja and no Wu. There was no Bounty and there were no inns that knew him for being the ‘savior of Ninjago’ and scrambled to kiss his feet and give him a room as soon as he opened his mouth. 

There was nothing here for him. 

There was…

Lloyd felt the urge to cry again. 

He…

…

Maybe he could for a little bit. Just until he found the Crystal, just until he could go home. 

“I….” Lloyd swallowed the shame and pulled on his brittle, crumbling but annoying somehow solid logic. He had nowhere else to go, and…and Doctor Strange seemed nice enough. “...okay…I can…I can stay….If—if you’re okay with that?” Lloyd winced— wonderful delivery ‘Green Ninja’. 

Doctor Strange smiled and nodded peaceably. “Of course, that’s why I asked,” 

Lloyd’s ear bled hot. Oh–yeah—duh. 

Doctor Strange laughed softly and it didn’t feel like it was at Lloyd’s expense. 

“Very well, you will stay here until we find your artifact and your friend,” 

Lloyd went cold. 

“He’s not—” He shivered. Horrible–aching, painful memories of Morro seizing his body as he writhed against his malicious cold. Corrupted, malevolent magic coursing through his veins and it tried to overtake his own Green. His bones and arms and legs and face twisting all wrong because Morro couldn’t remember what it was like to have a body and how to move one properly. Anger and hate and  jealousy that wasn’t his, raking through his own mind. Making him bleed his own soul as Morro made sure he hurt. 

Because Lloyd didn’t deserve to be the Green Ninja. He didn’t deserve to have that title, he didn’t deserve to save people, didn’t deserve to be who he was . He didn’t even deserve to be alive. Morro made sure he knew that. 

Lloyd swallowed and he couldn’t stop his hands from shaking. He looked to the side, shame building in his throat again. He had the urge to hide again. Maybe it would be easier that way. Maybe it would be…

“...Morro’s not my friend,” 

…

….better.

Chapter Text

Lloyd was kinda freaking out. Maybe. Sorta. Just a little. 

He was in some place called the ‘Sanctum’, which was watched over by this magic dude. Who wasn’t an Elemental Master apparently. (Maybe he was like Clouse, Lloyd wasn’t sure what the guy did.) 

He’d lost the Realm Crystal and he lost Morro. 

It was horrible but at least he wasn’t going to have a breakdown because of it anymore. So—uh…6/10?? Maybe? At least he wasn’t a solid 2/10 anymore. Because the aftermath of being possessed was the worst . Tremors, nightmares, flashbacks, the phantom feeling of cold hands pressing all over him. Oh and you can’t forget the absolute feeling of helplessness and the void of nothing that clawed at his feet and prickled relentlessly at the edge of his mind. That was probably the worst , Lloyd hated feeling helpless. 

So—yeah. He’s…sorta maybe okay now. It’s been a few days, Lloyd wasn’t exactly sure how long but it’s been at least three. If the light that showed through that big eye window that came and went was any indication. There weren’t any clocks that made sense in this place. So he had to rely on his internal clock (which was shot at the moment), the light levels in the Sanctum and what Doctor Strange said. (At least he was more straight forward then Wu.) 

The guy was good enough company. 

Lloyd was still freaking out about his friends. But at least the Preeminent couldn’t be released. And maybe that was one of the reasons he was sorta maybe okay. Otherwise he’d be…

…

A-anyway. He was okay. 

His wounds were healing nicely, the trace of Gold inside him stitching him back together and his Oni–Dragon blood numbing the pain and helping the process even further. Lloyd wasn’t sure what he’d do if a broken leg didn’t heal in less than a week. Cry maybe? 

And Lloyd couldn’t remember the last time he’d been allowed to sleep for so long. At Darkely’s he woke up at 7 am sharp to the sounds of pots and pans and yelling adults. When he was kicked out for ‘not being bad enough’ (he just didn’t want to push Brad down the stairs and somehow he was the one in the wrong) he barely slept because he was homeless. And with the ninja….he well…he was waking up with them. Waking up at 7 am was sleeping in. And at some point a bamboo stick to head got real old and you just woke up with the sun instead of trying to roll over. (It seems his sleeping habits hadn’t really gotten that much better either.) 

So being able to sleep in as much as he wanted was…Lloyd…he wasn’t sure what he should do about it. He still woke up earlier, occasionally he’d startle when something creaked a little too loudly or something shifted a little too far to the right. He still woke up at the butt crack of dawn, but it was…nice to have the option of sleeping in. Just having it there did wonders on his nerves. Not much of his nerves but still some of them. It was still nice to have that option there.

So here he was. Somewhere into the fourth or fifth day. Waking up when he normally would’ve anywhere else. He awoke to silence. 

Because no one was here. It was just him and the dust. 

…

And that was horrible for his nerves. 

He still got up anyway. He had things to do. Even if that was just him telling himself that. 

(::)

Lloyd finished running his hands through his hair, trying to avoid his own gaze in the mirror while still trying to see if his hair was going in the right direction. He knew he looked horrible. Not as horrible as he did before—but still; horrible. 

Eyebags, bruises that had faded from deep wine purple and molted green, to unhealthy yellow and gradually back to his own skin tone. He looked kinda pale. At least he was himself. A terrible looking version of himself but still…himself. And that was pretty good for his nerves as well. 

Lloyd was tired in more ways than one. 

The washroom he was using wasn’t really a washroom and more of a closet with a water basin, with a mirror propped up on the side. It wasn’t much but at least there was a functioning toilet. So…that was nice he guessed.

His hair was okay, Doctor Strange gave him some shampoo and a bar of soap on the second— maybe second day here. He made due, he wasn’t about to complain. 

And…and he’d still yet to find the Realm Crystal. 

Lloyd sighed, hands resting on the edge of the basin, staring into his pale reflection. His eyes were still green. He didn’t know why they’d be any other color. They’d been green since…the Green Ninja debacle. Maybe he was hoping they’d turn back to red. Back to the color he and his Father once shared. 

…

He missed him. 

…

Lloyd finished messing with his hair, nodding when he found it suitable to leave be. He had a Realm Crystal to find. 

(::)

It was a little ridiculous how much stuff was in the Sanctum. Rows and rows and shelves upon shelves of things. 

Things he’d been looking through for the past hour or so, for the days he was here, he looked. 

He carefully moved a vase to the side, tilting it away from the corner it was in front of. Keeping his Green and Gold just beneath his skin. It warmed his scars and eased the pain in his side—the wound pinching just a little when the skin closed just another centimeter before leaving the healing injury be. He couldn’t force too much, it wasn’t good for him. It might heal wrong if he did it all at once. (And that had happened more times than he could count. It hurt more when he did that, so he just left it be.) 

Still, he kept his Elemental Powers on stand by—who knew what kind of magic artifacts were waiting to explode on him the moment he touched them. The vase didn’t explode and there was nothing behind it. He tilted it back and started rifling through the shelves he could reach. Some of the shelves reached all the way up to the dark ceiling, dust drifting down from the infinitely tall ceiling arches. 

He couldn’t reach up there and he didn’t dare to try to climb the shelves. They looked like they were holding on by sheer spite alone. He didn’t think they’d hold his weight and even if they did, he didn’t didn’t want them to fall over and he certainly didn’t want something on those shelves to fall and break because of his negligence. Doctor Strange was nice enough to let him stay while Lloyd looked for the Crystal. He wouldn’t break the man’s trust by breaking his magic junk. He wasn’t stupid. 

And he didn’t think the Realm Crystal was up there anyway. It would be pretty dumb if it was. 

He gently pulled some books out, moving them so he could see what was behind them. He put them back and did the same thing to the weird glowy cubes next to the dusty tomes. His Powers buzzed in warning, tingling like firecrackers through his fingers and down his arms. Oh—kay, not touching those. He barely brushed their surface. He could tell they were the kind of things that would definitely explode if he handled them wrong. 

Yeah—yeah, no touching at all. 

Lloyd moved on. 

There were some dusty glass vials, whatever was in them long dried and crusted to the sides. More books, an actual honest to First Master’s fortune teller’s ball, some kind of weird dark green chalkboard. (He didn’t touch that one either, he was gonna but the Black Purple inside him snarled before he got within a foot of that one. He didn’t trust the Black Purple as far as he could throw it but he knew what a useful sixth sense it could be. He didn’t like it but it was really helpful with the stuff that basically just Evil incarnate.) 

There was some black pearl jewelry, another book that was half his size and probably more than half his weight. A peacock feather that was covered by an ornate glass cover, a statuette of pig with rubies instead of eyes. Bad vibes—0/10, no touching. 

There was a lot. Lloyd could probably look through the stuff for a whole year without stopping, and he wouldn’t even get through half of it. It was crazy. (There was magic in the air, Lloyd could probably look through for a year and never reach the end because of the magic. It was the twisting kind, the kind that wrapped itself around you and made you think up was down if you weren’t careful.)

(Lloyd was careful. He had to be.) 

At some point the shelves started to twist around him, bending at the edges of his vision. It was just him—Lloyd really wanted it to just be him. It was just him and him slowly losing him to the—

“Ah—Green Ninja, there you,” 

First Spinjitzu Master—that guy came outta nowhere. 

“Walk with me,” 

Lloyd almost tripped over something clear and circular on the ground, he stumbled a little, set the thing upright again, and hesitated just a little before taking his place by his side. It reminded him of times when Wu would say the same thing—demanding Lloyd’s compliance and loyalty. They were there, just under his uncle’s words, Lloyd knew they were there. The teachers at Darkely’s did the same thing. They always—

“Did you need something?” Lloyd bent over to pick up a book as he was walking, scooping it up smoothly and placing it somewhere where it wouldn’t fall again. He almost missed the way Doctor Strange’s eyes sparkled with something. 

Doctor Strange hummed. “Yes,” He didn’t look like he was walking. That cloak of his making his feet glide on the floor rather than walking. “I have some curiosity that I was wondering if you would be willing to quell?” 

Lloyd blinked, mulling it over. Questions—the Doctor had questions. There’s no telling what kind of questions he might have. Right now they were unsaid, and realistically Doctor Strange could ask anything. Anything….

And…and that was okay—it should be fine. Questions were okay, as long as Lloyd watched his answers, watched what he said. It would be okay. Lloyd wasn’t the best at lying but you couldn’t live through Darkely’s without being able to twist the truth and vomit out half–lies and truths like no tomorrow. Lying with body language wasn’t really something he picked up to the degree most of the other boys did but he had a good enough grasp on it for his eyebrows not to give him away if nobody looked close enough. 

It would be okay. Lloyd would make it okay. 

Lloyd nodded slowly. “...um, yeah..sure,” Lloyd wanted to swallow nervously but he didn’t. It tickled uncomfortably and he ignored it. 

Doctor Strange nodded to himself, his feet settling on the ground, boots scuffing the aged wood. His steps were light and his expression frustratingly blank. 

“You mentioned Elemental Masters,” The man kept a watchful, thoughtful eye on Lloyd. It made something squirm under Lloyd’s skin. 

Lloyd nodded. “...Yeah,” Now Lloyd wished he didn’t. He wasn’t from this realm. His abilities and quirks weren’t exactly from this realm. Nothing of him was from this realm. So how could he explain something that never existed here? 

“I…” Lloyd paused, with holding the worst of his frown. 

“You are not from this world, are you?” 

Lloyd stopped dead. How did he—?

“I wondered as much from the moment you fell through your gateway,” 

Gateway? 

…

The Realm Crystal. 

First Master he was stupid. 

“And I am guessing these ‘Elemental Masters’ are from your world?” 

“Realm,” Lloyd felt him say it before his mind caught up with his dumb mouth. Lloyd wanted to slap himself. “It’s…it’s realm,” 

Doctor Strange hummed. “Realm then,” 

Lloyd inhaled sharply and started walking again. “Y-yeah, I’m…not..from here,” That felt really weird to say. He…he still had to answer his question about the Elemental Masters. How could he talk about it without saying anything too compromising?

Oh.

Or he could just say that.

“Elemental Masters are people that have the ability to control an element of the natural world,” It was a weird way to describe them but Lloyd’s never really had to describe them to someone who’s never heard of them before. Usually he could just show people when they asked instead of explaining with no showing. 

He didn’t want to show more than he had too. He knew Doctor Strange knew about his Green. Maybe he even knew about the Black Purple and ever encompassing bleeding Gold, but he didn’t want to show him. There were too many people that already wanted to use him as a glorified battery and he didn’t want to unintentionally add someone to the list. Getting literally parts of your Soul sucked out didn’t feel particularly nice. No thank you. He was done with that show boat. 0/10. 

“Hm, I see,” Doctor Strange continued to walk with purpose, his brow creased thoughtfully and the magic in the air grew taut. The man turned forward, striding with purpose. With what kind of purpose—Lloyd…didn’t really know. His stomach twisted nervously and he wasn’t sure what he should be doing with his hands. 

The guy must have more questions, he must’ve. But it was impossible to really tell with the way he was just looking so…serene. 

Like Sensei Wu. 

Lloyd shook his head, he didn’t want to think about those similarities. It only hurt. 

“And…” The Doctor started slow, words careful. “Are you an Elemental Master?” 

Why was he asking? He obviously knew the answer to that already. Lloyd felt how the man’s Gold-Bronze had passed over him, there was no way to not notice the Green Power infused in Lloyd’s cells and very Soul. 

Lloyd glanced at the guy’s face, taking in the soft, curious expression he had. It was a perfect cover for anything else. It was good. Really, really good. He hated how he couldn’t tell what the guy was thinking when usually it was so easy. It didn’t matter who it was—enemy, fellow ninja, civilians—Lloyd could reasonably tell what people were thinking based on past experiences with them. Of course not everything had a clear cut blueprint on how to act around them, but most of the time he could guess pretty well. He’d go off of a similar experience and well he’d gotten pretty good at winging it. 

But this guy…

Lloyd knew nothing about this guy. 

Friend or foe. Random dude or evil tyrant in disguise. Lloyd didn’t know. 

He didn’t trust him. He didn’t trust him one bit. 

But Doctor Strange knew, he knew about his Mastery of Energy and Balance. He knew— so why was he asking? 

It must be a test of some kind. Something to see if….if…Lloyd didn’t know. But it could also be a trap. (It could always be a trap.) 

Well….

Here goes nothing. 

Lloyd nodded. Sharp and decisive. He kept his eyes forward, even though he wanted to track Doctor Strange‘s movements, he felt the way the air shifted into something a little colder and Lloyd clenched his fists to keep them from twitching too badly. 

“Yeah…” The air in Lloyd’s lungs were cold and something annoyingly thick was sitting in the back of his throat. “I am,”

Lloyd wanted to hold his breath, hold it till his face turned purple and things just disappeared and he was safe. Safe—back in the Bounty with Kai and Cole and Zane and Jay and Nya and—and—

“And if you don’t mind me asking,” Doctor Strange hummed. His dark eyes sparkling with dull gold. Lloyd minded . He minded a lot. “What element do you have mastery over?”

He couldn’t stop his fingers from twitching. What if—? What if he didn’t…

Hm.

“I…” Something bubbled under his skin, something sharp and Black and dark and so snarky and—

It felt Good. It curled and laughed and snickered and felt more and more Purple. Filling him up with the desire to skirt the truth. To become the predator behind his own words. To become the thing that was Black and Purple and Dusty Gold. There was something inside that wanted to be More. 

And Lloyd listened to it. 

“Green,” Lloyd smiled to himself, suddenly feeling quite pleased with himself. The Black Purple inside him hummed, infinitely pleased with something. “I’m the Master of Green,” Lloyd hopped a little, a small skip in his step. Something about that felt nice. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he liked it. 

The Doctor raised an eyebrow, smiling lightly to himself. “I see,” 

Lloyd picked up another book and Doctor Strange asked another question.

(::)

It’s been another two days and Lloyd’s pretty sure he’s going crazy.

There was something crawling under his skin and rattling in his bones. It hurt. It stung and burned and the Bleeding Gold inside him was screaming. There was something there—something different, something wrong. Something that was wedged in his Soul and crushing something very delicate inside him and sending white hot phantom pain through his nerves and made it feel like his scars were writhing and itching and burning—

Lloyd was in pain. He got up anyway. 

It got worse as he looked for Realm Crystal. The little warning signs that constantly buzzed inside him were muted, almost…stretched thin. The thing that was pressing too sharply into him, was making it hard to breath and scaring the Green. 

It made it hard to do anything. He found himself stumbling more often than not, something raging up inside him, choking the Green—it was Wild and Old and it felt like Lloyd was drowning because of it. 

Walking hurt . Breathing hurt. It hurt to shuffle carefully around the magic artifacts, being delicate with each one because it would backfire massively if handled any differently. It hurt to touch them too. They buzzed like a million bees right up against his fingers. And if he touched them, all those bees decided to sting all at once. A flinching explosion of prickles and needle thin stabs, all between his skin and directly into each pore. 

Awful. It was awful. 

He avoided touching things as much as he could, rather than moving them himself—Lloyd craned his neck around them, peering at weird angles to see what’s behind them. That was easier than touching everything. It was uncomfortable more often than not, but at least he didn’t want to cry every time he did it. 

Thirty minutes passed and the pain only got worse. At some point he stopped looking and just sat down and crammed himself in a dusty corner, moving things with his foot, his shoes kept most of the sharp prickles away and that was good enough for him. He scrappingly moved a bronze vase draped in cobwebs and a stack of papers tied together with fraying coarse string. He didn’t know what it said, and he wasn’t even curious. He was just hurting. It didn’t matter what it said as long as he was hurting. 

Lloyd’s pretty sure his heart would beat out of his chest, his chest felt too tight and his ribs felt more like a claustrophobic cage of death than something meant to protect his organs.  It's hot. Too hot. And too cold. All at the same time. Horrible, awful, wrenching, Lloyd didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to be alone—at the mercy of this…this pain. First Master, what did he do wrong? What did he—

Something was trying to pull itself out of his chest. Something sharp and Blue and Old and Powerful and so, so Complex that it made the Bleeding Gold seem simple by comparison. 

Lloyd curled even tighter and tried to breath. 

Lloyd didn’t know if he could keep this up if it got any worse. Maybe he would die. Maybe he would just perish right here and now and all his friends would never see him again. Maybe he would die here, in this realm, lost to the branches of the Realm Tree and he would never get to see his family again. 

He would never get to dance and learn about all the little things from Kai again. He would never get to play video games with Jay again. He’d never get to go on joy rides with Nya again. He’d never get to eat Zane’s cooking again. He’d never get to hang out with Cole and listen to whatever indie band he was into that week. He’d never get to see his family again. He’d never—

Lloyd curled even tighter and tried not to scream.

He missed them. He missed them so, so much. 

(::)

Something was wrong in the Sanctum. 

Magic curled in confusion and alarm around him. The magic haunting each plank of wood and singing with each piece of dust was tainted with something, something sharp and Old and something that almost vibrated in the air. It was something that immediately set Steven on edge. Goosebumps prickled where they could and his hair stood on end. 

So he set down what he was doing as soon as he could and left in a swirl of velvet cape. He followed the magic. The stinging, buzzing, prickling magic. And if he felt close enough he could feel the Green Ninja’s own magic. It was crushed underneath the buzzing–Old magic. It wasn’t right and it wasn’t good. 

So he followed the magic. 

He walked through rows and rows of towering shelves filled with all manner of things that were here long before he was born and would be here long after he faded. Big things, small things, glass, metal, wood, stone, gem and bone. Everything that could be made was a magical artifact created by the thousands of sorcerers that lived before him. (Once Steven found a spell book bound in human skin. He put that particular one in a box and left the key somewhere he wouldn’t be able to find it without trying. It was something that he didn’t care to replicate.) 

Steven strood and the magic grew stronger. More potent. He could almost taste it at this point, sharp with invisible needles and ringing strong with the clarity of a bell. 

And there was the Green Ninja. The boy was curled up, head between his knees and a clenching hand in his gold-white locks. His face was screwed in pain, his teeth grit and the magic around him was boiling. 

And not in the pleasant way when it soothed you, instead of burned you. 

This was not good. 

It seems that impossible balance had tipped too far to the left. Steven would help. 

It would be horribly shameful if he did otherwise. 

(::) 

Lloyd’s pretty sure he’s on fire. 

His insides are absolutely melting and his bones are revolting against his skin and the crushing Old was pulling his Soul apart. 

What a pathetic way to die. 

His own Elemental Powers were trying to kill him in a way they haven't since the Power of the First Spinjitzu pulsed Gold and Too Bright like a second molten heartbeat nestled deep in his fleshy organs and claiming territory Lloyd didn’t know could be claimed. That hurt. Like— hurt really bad. 

Lloyd’s starting to think this hurts worse. Because it wasn’t scorchingly comfortable, roaring like a river liquid gold lava beneath his skin and in his bones. This just hurt. Like there was a spike with a million red hot edges trying to jam and splinter it’s way through his sternum and erupt from his chest like a rabid weasel trapped in a burlap sack. 

Lloyd’s pretty sure he’s dying. 

And he’s not happy about it. 

0/10. 

(::)

The Green Ninja wasn’t responding.

His magic swirled and spiked and ravaged in a way that was picking up stray papers and displacing smaller artifacts, throwing some and cracking and singeing others. It cried out and roared with the power of cosmic horror and terrifying novelty itself. The Green Ninja’s magic was no longer a waterfall. No—it was an ocean. A raging, tumultuous ocean, made from fire and glass. Steven could feel his exposed hair curl and burn black just by the exposure. 

Papers whipped around him, pale blue winds rocked the shelves and clawed at his clothes. It was hot. And unbearably cold. 

And Something was wrong with it. 

Something was wrong with the boy’s magic. It screamed and cried and whimpered all at once. It was in pain. His magic was in pain from something. Steven needed to know what was wrong. He needed to know so he could stop it. Stop the horrific burning. 

Steven took a deep breath and pulled on his abilities. He cupped his palms danced his fingers and shook his wrists and an analysis spell crackled to life in a circlet of runes and bronze gold magics. It curled like a python and slithered towards the boy. 

The Green Ninja’s magic ate away at the edges of his spell but it held strong. It sparked copper and circled the blond. Tasting his magic and bleeding an alarming red. It snapped back to Steven and he got a mouthful of Wrong. 

(He nearly collapsed right then and there because of it.) 

There was something in his magic that wasn’t supposed to be there. It was Old and Blue and it felt like a Gateway. And unnervingly like an Infinity Stone. It…

It seems the Green Ninja had somehow absorbed the artifact he was looking for. His…Realm Crystal temporarily merging with his magic. Which should have been impossible but…maybe to someone from another Realm it was possible. 

And it seemed the Crystal was trying to escape the confines of the boy’s Soul. And it was killing him for it to do so. 

Steven could help. It wouldn’t work permanently but he could provide a temporary solution. A temporary balm to the Green Ninja’s burning soul. 

So Steven gathered up his abilities once again and spread them in a delicate net of thought and Calm. He gently weaved buzzing gold threads, and made a web of Sleep and Contentment. 

It wouldn’t work forever but it would work until the boy learned to safely separate the artifact from his Soul without tearing out his own Being in the process. 

The Green Ninja’s magic slowed, moving stunned and suddenly sleepy. The ravaging Blue winds calmed and the burning in the air stopped burning and turned to a slight warmth and then to a conforting  chill. 

Good. 

Hopefully that would work for the time being. 

(Steven wasn’t quite sure why, but that spell wrought him almost dry. It was way more powerful than he expected it to be. He wasn’t sure he could do the spell a second time if needs be.) 

He needed to teach the boy to control his innate magics or else the Crystal would kill him. And he would need control over the Crystal if he was to get home like he wanted to.

It would take time. But better to take time then for the Green Ninja to perish from something that could have been controlled. 

Steven started preparing his proposal in his mind. 

He needed the Green Ninja to agree. It would be for both their safety. 

(::)

Turns out…

Lloyd’s not…dead?

At least he’s pretty sure he’s not dead. He’s not burning anymore, his insides weren’t writhing like a bunch of aggravated snakes trapped in a box. So that was nice. And the Old Blue was quiet. Not silent but at least it wasn’t strangling the Green anymore. 

So…another good thing. 

There was…something covering it. Holding it down in rich layers of Bronze mesh and hooked anchors. It…felt weird. It wasn’t bad but it… itched almost. Like just beneath his skin, an itch that was faint enough for it not to bother you all that much but was still there enough for you to feel it. It buzzed faintly. It wasn't the kind of buzz he was used to. Weird but not…necessarily bad. 

And Lloyd could unravel himself without wanting to scream. He blinked the tears out of his eyes, rubbing the wells of his eyes with his palms. Ugh. He wasn’t dead but he did not feel good at all. 

“Green Ninja?” 

Lloyd couldn’t help his flinch. He blinked again, looking up and…

Oh..it was Doctor Strange. The Bronze mesh must’ve been his doing. That was…really nice of him to stop Lloyd from dying. Lloyd didn’t particularly like dying all that much. 

“...hi?” First Master— Lloyd sounded terrible. 

Doctor Strange looked…concerned. If lightly so. The guy still had a crazy good poker face but Lloyd could recognize concern when he saw it. And that was definitely concern. 

“Are you alright?” 

Lloyd didn’t….maybe..? How could he answer that? He still felt terrible, but he wasn’t dead and he wasn’t burning so…maybe he was sorta maybe…okay? 

Lloyd swallowed roughly, his throat burned, but in a scratchy ‘I need a glass of water’ way and not in the ‘oh Master I’m literally burning alive and my throat’s one of the first things to go’ kinda way. 

Lloyd opened his mouth and his tongue tasted like sandpaper. (And he’d rather not get into why he knows what sandpaper tastes like. The boys at Darkley’s were menaces. ) 

“I…” Lloyd swallowed his cough and it only made him want to cough more. He didn’t. He couldn’t talk or breathe if he was coughing. It didn’t help as much as his body thought it did. “...I…I think so?” 

Lloyd clenched and unclenched his hands experimentally at his sides. His bones were still working. He didn’t know why he thought they wouldn’t. 

Oh—Doctor Strange definitely did not believe him. 

“...Right, if you say so,” The caped man paused for a moment. Obviously thinking about something. If the guy wasn’t so composed, he might’ve been shifting on his feet. Lloyd didn’t know what it was but he looked kinda nervous. “I have a proposition for you, Green Ninja. If you were to agree it would help you to return to your Realm and it would help ease my own worries and answer a few of my questions,” 

…A…proposition? What could he want? What could he possibly ask from Lloyd? (What could Lloyd give him?)

But then again…what did he have to lose from hearing him out? (It’s not like the guy would ask him to murder some or something….that would be…stupid. So incredibly stupid.)

He didn’t. He really didn’t have anything to lose. He was alone in an unrecognizable Realm. Morro was still at large and the Realm Crystal was still gone. The burning Old inside him had settled and bronze mesh was holding it down as it writhed. He wasn’t dying anymore…so…so what did he have to lose? Being dead would make it really hard to find the Crystal and capture Morro. Then again, being a ghost might make catching Morro easier. Maybe?? Lloyd didn’t know and he wasn’t too keen on finding out. 

So Lloyd slowly inclined head, his hands clenching in his lap, watching Doctor Strange’s expression carefully. You could never be too careful about these things. 

Doctor Strange nodded, something hesitant lingering in his serene expression. Too serene. It was always too serene to really know anything about the guy.

“...It seems that the artifact that had brought you here was…absorbed into your ‘Elemental Power’,” 

..What? Was that even possible? What did–? Something pulsed too cold and too hot in his chest and Lloyd knew that….that it could very well be the case. Could he really have absorbed the Realm Crystal? Was that what that thing was? Was that what that awful horrible pain was?

“And my spell can only contain your Realm Crystal for a finite amount of time. It is more powerful than I anticipated and if it were to free itself from your Soul as it wishes too then…” 

Doctor Strange looked at Lloyd with…well it was hard to tell but it might have been fear…maybe pity. Lloyd wasn’t sure but it made something cold settle heavily and coldly in his gut. 

“...You would not survive,” 

Lloyd pressed a shaking hand to his chest, his own breathing loud to his own ears. He would die? Lloyd didn’t want to die. He didn’t—

 But…but how would this guy know that? How would—?

“However,” 

Lloyd’s head snapped up. However. However was good. (Lloyd didn’t want to die. He really, really didn’t want to die.) 

“I may be able to help you and avoid that fate,” 

Lloyd narrowed his eyes. Hesitant but willing to hear him out. He didn’t want to die but it didn’t necessarily mean he trusted Doctor Strange to stop him from going off the deep end. 

Doctor Strange paused, staring at Lloyd for an uncomfortable amount of time. “I wish for you to become my student. I would teach you how to have better control over your magic and how to use it in a myriad of situations and ways. In time and with enough practice we could remove your Realm Crystal safely and you would be able to return to your own Realm,” He looked like he wanted to say more but didn’t. His lip pursing with restrained thought. 

Doctor Strange looked at Lloyd, something was almost…desperate about the way he did it. Almost like..he really wanted to help. But Lloyd didn’t…

“But I already have a Master,” Lloyd pointed out. As much as it left a weird taste in his mouth, he did. Sensei Wu was his Master and nobody else. (His Dad was different, was Master, Sensei and Father. He was more than his Uncle could ever be.) 

Doctor Strange’s face spasmed, before settling into a firm line. “Yes but the Realm Crystal is of immediate concern, no? Surely your Master wouldn’t want you to perish in a place he could not reach?”

Ouch. That was…man that stung a little. No…Lloyd’s…Lloyd’s pretty sure his uncle wouldn’t want him to die from accidentally absorbing the Realm Crystal and then exploding into a bajillion pieces because of it. 

But…well if Lloyd was going to die if he didn’t…Lloyd didn’t know if he knew how to do it by himself. And if a new idea or solution presented itself, then he would just go with that instead. Whatever got him home the fastest.

So…Lloyd agreed. However slowly and reluctantly. He’s trusted the guy so far and it hasn’t killed him yet. And he doesn’t know what else he could do, so he’ll just do this instead. 

Doctor Strange smiled. And he seemed relived about something. “Very well, I will teach you the art of magic and when the time comes you will return home in one piece,” 

Home…

Lloyd missed home. 

Lloyd sighed. Might as well. 

“Lloyd,” 

Doctor Strange blinked, momentarily confused. “I’m sorry?” 

Lloyd huffed, feeling amused despite himself. “That’s my name: Lloyd,” Lloyd felt himself smile. “Lloyd Garmadon,” 

Doctor Strange mirrored his smile, that relief only seeming to grow. “It’s nice to formally meet you Lloyd. I look forward to working with you,” 

..

Yeah..

Lloyd…Lloyd kinda did too.

Chapter Text

Turns out, the Avengers Tower was haunted. 

And it was not a feature he paid for.

The Tower was haunted by a raving, shrieking and frankly annoying ghost.

Now Tony wasn’t a spiritual man but he prayed to God that the ghost would just shut up. He couldn’t get any work done like this. With the ghost snarling and growling and throwing things around the room. At least he couldn’t possess people anymore. That had almost been a disaster and a half. 

Correction, it would’ve been a disaster and a half if Thor hadn’t been there. He threw up some spell or something (Tony didn’t know that gods of thunder could do magic but hey—he wasn’t about to police people’s intrests or abilities. That was Fury’s job.) that trapped the ghost and kept him from doing any major harm. Like possessing people. But apparently throwing things didn’t count as ‘major harm’. Tony complained, Tony complained a lot. And Thor’s explanation was long and winding and didn’t exactly make the most sense. 

(Again—he had no idea the guy could do magic and he was only at the tower for the pop tarts. So Tony was glad the big guy was there in the first place.)

But essentially what it boiled down to was that the ghost couldn’t leave because he was ‘tethered’ or something to the Advenger’s Tower somehow and the most Thor could do was stop him from killing anyone in his ghostie anger fulled rage. Which was nice but Tony wished the thing would just stop throwing his stuff. Everything that was thrown was replaceable but those things cost a pretty penny to the common man. And Tony wasn’t keen on replacing antique vases imported from China.  

Thor said there wasn’t much else he could do and Tony would need to get a actual magic user to exorcize the ghost. (And then he left to steal Tony’s pop tarts . Wonderful. Just…wonderful.) Which—was just peachy because Tony knew so many wizards—

Wait.

Wasn’t Doctor Strange a magic user? And a pretty accomplished one too if Tony remembered correctly. 

Did he know how to exorcise ghosts? 

Eh probably, he’s pretty sure he had his number. 

Now just to give the wizard a call. 

(::)

Lloyd didn’t get it. 

He didn’t get the weird magic energy stuff, and the hand movements were lost on him. It was like Elemental Powers but completely different somehow??

Lloyd didn’t get it. He really, really didn’t get it. 

First Master— he hated that he didn’t get it. 

Lloyd swept through the motions again, flicking his wrists in the way Doctor Strange showed him. His Elemental Power swirled and fizzled like water on a hot pan, but it didn’t create the runic circle it was supposed to. Ridiculous, dumb, stupid—

“You need to lead with your Soul and only then can your movements follow,” 

Lloyd wanted to groan. He really, really did but honestly he’s been through worse and even more cryptic training. Turns out Energy as an Elemental Power was completely different from Lightning in the way you used it, Jay Walker. You’d think they’d be basically the same being energy and lightning. They sound like they’d be the same but nooooooo—Jay used Lightning like a caffeine high kid would use heelys, silly string and darts. Random, insanely creative and precisely deadly with a single minded accuracy that would make a high grade sniper jealous. But Energy was…well it was like a cat. Or a dog. Or a really intelligent parrot. That had super powers or absorbed energy from the sun and shot it out of its mouth when it was trained or convinced to. It was protective, but not as protective as the Bleeding Gold. Lloyd had to earn the Green’s trust in him as a Master and Student to the Arts before it started working properly. And it was loyal too. Lloyd wasn't sure what that exactly meant but once Sensei Wu mentioned how he had an unusually loyal Element. It was cryptic and muttered and Lloyd probably would have understood it more if he didn’t hear Sensei say it at all. 

Anyway Lloyd didn’t know what he was doing and that was kinda the way it's always been for him when learning and doing these kinds of things. So Lloyd didn’t groan like he wanted to and swept through the movements again. Leading with his Soul or whatever that in the Cursed Realm that meant. 

Still, there was no runic circlet of magics of which the simple defensive spell was supposed to come from. 

It was dumb. Ridiculous even.

His Powers buzzed like sleeping nerves under his skin. Like—right below it. It was uncomfortable, verging on prickling and it needed somewhere to go. He needed to use it for something rather than just almost using it, like he was doing with all the confusing movements. Stupid, stupid, stupid—

And it seems like Doctor Strange was getting….well not anxious or annoyed with his lack of progress just…resigned? No, that wasn’t the right word. Indifferent? No, that also wasn’t right. He was…

Well Lloyd didn’t really know what the guy was feeling. Impeccable poker face remember? 

And Lloyd’s been doing this for at least three days. Which makes sense that he wasn’t making all that much progress, because it hadn’t been that long. Stuff like this should take years. In theory of course. But Lloyd’s always used to things being fast tracked for him. Being Prophecy’s golden child, pun intended, made it a little more…imperative he get it quickly. Didn’t really matter what it was—he was supposed to have it down and mastered faster than everyone else. And being magically aged up four to five years give or take certainly helped with that mastery process. 

And also theoretically—Lloyd should be getting this magic stuff easy peasy. But he wasn’t. And he could still feel the Realm Crystal inside him, less of an object and more of a mystical presence and an idea that could kill him if Doctor Strange’s mesh of Bronze Sleep wasn’t there to keep it from killing him. It was there. He could feel it as much as he felt the Bleeding Gold and Black Purple and the ever loyal Green that made up the most of his Soul. It was there and it wasn’t supposed to. It was almost like….if there was a needle shoved under your nail and you couldn’t really take it out and it didn’t exactly hurt like it was supposed to. It was there and it wasn’t  going away and it was all you could think about. 

He could think about other things. Like getting home. But that always circled back to the Crystal. So….well….Lloyd really really needed to get this down soon. Like—really soon. 

He went through the movements again, making sure to put more umph into it this time. The Green sparked at his fingertips and coursed like hot wax through his veins, it encased his fingers and palms in green fire and licked up the insides of his forearms. But there was no circlet of runes like Doctor Strange told him there would be. There was only Green. 

It felt good to let it out. It made the Realm Crystal burn like a flare in his chest before the Bronze mesh smothered it down again. But the Green crooned and the Bleeding Gold soothed the burning chill that the Realm Crystal radiated like a firepit that used dry ice instead of kindle to burn like it did. 

Lloyd frowned, and shook his hands out, running through the motions again. Green fire and soothing Bleeding Gold and crawling Black Lavender and desperate Nipping Blue spread through his nerves and made his fingertips tingle blindly and his vision flash with blurry spots. Not nice. Did not feel good. 0/10.

It was getting more intense. The powers inside him were fighting for dominance, fighting for a control he couldn’t give them. Why didn’t Wu warn him about that? Why didn’t he warn him it would be that bad? Why didn’t he—

A phone. A bright, rattling ring from an older model echoed through the Sanctum. 

(It burned and Lloyd shoved it down like he always did.)

Lloyd’s twitching hands fell to his sides and Doctor Strange blinked. 

It rang again. And it kept ringing and Doctor Strange, as weirdly graceful as ever, basically floated to the phone. Which…wasn’t there before? Huh…weird magic dude and his weird magic phone…

Doctor Strange picked the blocky thing up and brought it to his ear, face meticulously blank. 

“Hello? Doctor Strange, Sorcerer Supreme speaking” 

(That was a lot of alliteration.) 

…

A few moments of silence passed and Lloyd craned his ears but didn’t move. He knew how to eavesdrop well enough and it didn’t work if he walked closer like he wanted to. 

“Hello Stark,” 

Stark? Obviously it was someone Doctor Strange knew. He sounded…not annoyed per say but…like he didn’t expect the call and was… exasperated..?? Lloyd didn’t know but he sounded like something. Like he was…interested but not in a purely pleasant way? Okay—now Lloyd was just confusing himself. He was gonna…yeah he was going to stop while he was ahead.

A few more seconds passed and First Master, the other guy…girl… person(???) on the phone—Stark—must’ve been talking for a long time.

“An exorcism?” 

…An Exorcism? Like for…

Lloyd went cold. 

Like for a ghost? 

Doctor Strange sighed, something almost like annoyance creeping into his usual serene expression. His brows furrowed slightly, like a little more than a twitch and the only reason Lloyd saw it was because he was looking so hard and he wasn’t exactly fully human in the first place. 

Doctor Strange sighed again, this time almost sounding….well weary Lloyd guessed. 

“Yes Stark—I’ll come exorcize the ghost plaguing you, so there’s no reason to be talking so much—” 

He stopped talking, his brows furrowing further and his lips pursed in what Lloyd could almost call (and finally, he guessed) exasperated. Still though—his poker face reigned with an iron fist. But it seems Stark was a powerful talking force to reckon with. 

(Like Jay maybe. He missed Jay’s puns. Wow—he never thought he’d think that ever.)

“Yes….I….Thank you—good day Tony Stark, don’t antagonize the ghost further if you can,” He waited a moment, nodded, another moment ticked past and he brought the brick of a phone away from his ear. The ‘Tony Stark’ on the other end probably hung up. 

Lloyd kinda forgot what breathing was. 

A ghost. Really it could be any ghost, any different spook or spector but—but with his luck it would…it would be…

…

It would end up being Morro. 

Lloyd really, really didn’t want it to be Morro. 

Doctor Strange slowly placed the phone back in its dock and turned with a serene expression, with a worried tilt to his eyebrows and a purse to his lips. 

“Lloyd—I believe it’s time you learn how to take care of the unruly undead,” 

(::) 

Tony didn’t know Steven Strange had a kid. 

He didn’t even know sorcerers could have kids.

Tony had expected the man in little under three hours, which he did get but what he didn’t expect was for him to magic in with a teenager with clever, calculative eyes. A curly mop of blond hair lay shaggy over those clever green eyes. And a green hoodie with white blocked out chinese characters hung over gray pants, and a pair of black sneakers walked soundlessly along with his feet. The kid held himself tall, in a way that spoke of some kind of fighting experience or physical discipline, his hands were loose at his sides and his fingers flexed periodically. It was a little manic to be honest.

Tony looked at the kid with wonder and probably something closer to bafflement. 

Tony put on his friendliest smile and approached the pair. He could talk to kids no problem, just treat them like mini adults and all will go well.

“Steven!” Tony gave a short wave, glancing at the kid who’s eyes were darting around, as if he was looking for something. Weird. Maybe he was looking for the ghost? Had Steven told him about the ghost? “Good to see you here so soon,” 

Steven nodded curtly, his hands neatly folded behind his back. “It’s good to see you well Stark,” 

Ah. There he was. The weird emotionally constipated wizard the team knew and loved. And Tony knew Steven’s words were formality at best, Tony knew the man didn’t really exactly like him but that was fine as long as he got rid of his little haunting problem. Preferably Ghostbusters style if Steven wanted to be fancy about it. Magic Ghostbusters or something out of a cheesy horror movie. Tony was fine with either. 

Tony held out his hand and Steven shook his hand. Again, a formality. Tony, after debating it for a second, turned to the kid. The younger blond was watching him carefully and there was something sharp about it. Ah—Tony thinks he found one of the things that must’ve drawn Steven to the kid. He’s intelligent, and sharply so. You don’t find a lot of kids like that—especially teenagers. With that kind of honed, trained almost look about them. Peter was like that, even before Tony took him under his wing. 

(Tony wondered if the two of them would get along. Maybe after the ghost problem was sorted out, he’d get Peter up to the tower and the two proteges could hang out. Peter needed more friends anyway.) 

“And who’s the kid?” Tony kept an eye on the said kid, watching as he twitched with something restrained. He must’ve been keeping himself from saying the classic ‘I’m not a kid’ spiel, most teenagers did when Tony referred to them as such. Or they just blabbed. Most of them blabbed. It was telling of fine speech motor skills when they didn’t. And so far it seemed this kid had it in those skills in spades. There must’ve been a lot of adults that talked to him like that. Huh. Wonder what kind of life the kid lived before he became a wizard in training?

Steven’s eyes narrowed a smidge. “This is my student…” He trailed off, the sentence unfinished. He glanced at his so-called student, but he didn’t say anything else. Why, though? Was his name some kind of hot topic? Something uncomfortable? Or was it something else? 

The kid glanced back at his teacher or acting guardian or whatever their relationship was and pulled down the paws of the hoodie with his fingertips. Pinching them down. Clenching his hands in the fabric that now covered his hands. It seemed like an absentminded action. A stim if Tony wanted to be fancy with it. The kiddo frowned lightly, glancing at Tony before his sharp eyes darted around the room, before his wary returned to Tony’s own curious gaze. 

“Lloyd,” He didn’t offer anything else but a stiff hand shake. He had a firm grip, his hands were callous and scarred like Nat’s and built like Peter’s. Interesting. Tony filed the information away, preparing to ask FRIDAY about the kid’s existence later. How many blond, green eyed, 16-17 year olds that were named Lloyd, could be out there? 

Steven shot the kid, now named Lloyd, a curious look. Which was something that confused Tony faintly. But it honestly wasn’t worth thinking about it more than subsurface. And if it did happen to matter, Tony had ways of taking care of that too.

“Lloyd,” Tony nodded and smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, Steven didn’t tell me you were coming,” 

(Lloyd didn’t exactly seem like the quiet type but his mouth remained firmly shut and his eyes darted like suspicious minos around the room. Geez was the kid a wizard or a detective in training?)

Steven remained stoic. “I thought it would be best to teach Lloyd how to deal with the undead,” Aaaaannd he ignored the invitation to talk more about Lloyd’s mere existence. That was fine, Tony had other ways of getting the information he wanted. 

(He always did.)

And yeah that made sense. Better to learn how to do the potentially dangerous thing with the safety net of a mentor and someone more experienced than you then to learn it on the fly with no safety net and a higher chance of screwing up and likely dying because of it. He did that with Peter sometimes. (Sometimes it was just funnier to let the kiddo fail then help. Either way worked and he wasn’t going to judge Steven on his teaching methods if they weren’t tragically terrible. And so far it didn’t seem that way. Kid seemed fine so Tony was perfectly fine in leaving it alone.) 

“Yeah? Sounds fun,” Tony glanced again at Lloyd who was….pale. His freckled skin ashening a few shades lighter in response to something Tony couldn’t pinpoint. His eyes were narrowed and if Tony wasn’t mistaken…they might’ve been glowing too. His eyes were darting around more frantically too. Before his eyes fixed on a point and they glazed over. Okay…weird and concerning but still, Tony was going to leave it alone unless there was something wrong that he had place to fix. But right now he didn’t have that place, so he was going to let it be. 

Lloyd wrinkled his nose and laughed, it was bitter and filled to the brim with thorny sarcasm. “Yeah sure— fun,” He was still staring at that random point. His head now cocked just a little and his eyebrows sufficiently furrowed to be thinking about something decidedly and distinctly bad. 

Tony blinked, a little thrown off by the sheer passive aggressiveness that the kiddo’s words had. It was…it was like the idea of ghosts had personally killed his grandma or something. And maybe they did. Maybe ghosts killed his dog and coming with Steven was one way to get back at them. 

Tony didn’t even know ghosts existed until way earlier that week. So who knows—maybe ghosts killed dogs and grandmas and he just never learned about it until today. And it wasn’t like he was going to ask, he may be a drunken a**hole most of the time but he knows not to ask about dead dogs and the ghosts that killed them. 

…

“Maybe, you can show us where the ghost’s usual activity is centered?” 

Oh thank goodness for Steven Strange’s all business attitude and emotional constipation. (Not that Tony was any better—but they ignored that, so it practically didn’t exist at this point.) 

Tony nodded, grateful from the slight alleviation of the awkward tension that had set in like a bad case of diarrhea and lice. “Yeah sure thing, follow me,” 

“Actually,” Lloyd raised his hand an inch, eyes still glazed over and dipped in bitterness. He was still frowning lightly too, his voice distant and weird enough to warrant some level of suspicion. “Could I use your bathroom?” 

Tony hummed smoothly, laughing internally. Looks like the kid had secrets, did Steven know about those secrets? “Of course, FRIDAY can show you the way,” 

The kid blinked. “Friday?” He glanced around, his eyebrows furrowing and he opened his mouth again. 

“Hello Lloyd,” 

The kid practically jumped out of his skin and was that magic dancing and curling like smokey flames defensively around his fingers? Fascinating. It looked completely different then the stuff Steven used. 

“I am FRIDAY. Tony Stark’s interactive a.i. I will lead you to the restroom. Follow the blue lights please,” 

And not a second later, the lights on one side of the wall turned a light, crystalin blue. 

Lloyd blinked, momentary awe taking over his features. “So cool…” He muttered under his breath and after a moment's hesitation, followed the lights, only glancing back once before disappearing behind a corner. 

Tony smiled when Steven looked back at him expectedly. 

“Follow me, I’ll show you where the ghost’s been ruining everything,”

Steven dipped his head shortly and followed. 

Hopefully this would resolve itself soon.

(::)

Lloyd needed to find Morro.

Like—as soon as physically possible.

He could feel him. He could feel Morro’s wind and his corrupted Green. It was faint and way weaker then what he’d felt when Morro decided Lloyd didn’t need to breathe, but still there. It was there. Still so cold and bitter. And that was enough to set him on the knife’s edge. 

So he needed to find Morro. ASAP. Of course he couldn’t go home yet with the Realm Crystal still trapped firmly inside him. He could feel it, trying to worm and wriggle and writhe it’s way out from under the Bronze Mesh. It couldn’t get out yet but it was getting closer. Lloyd needed to figure the whole thing out, preferably before he had to fight for his life again. Or maybe that would help? Only the First Spinjitzu Master knew really. 

He turned another corner, following the blue lights like the PIXAL esque a.i voice told him too when he almost ran into someone. 

But the said person grabbed him by the shoulders before he could really collide with them. 

“Woah there young demigod!” 

Lloyd blinked and looked up, and up and up. Huh. That was…a really, really tall person. Expressive, powerful storm blue eyes looked down at him. It was really impressive, considering his own height was nothing to sneeze at. 

“Careful where you are walking, you might hurt yourself!” His voice was loud and booming, kinda like thunder. Which was a weird comparison to make but for some reason it just worked in his head. 

The Bleeding Gold stirred, no—something deeper then the Bleeding Gold stirred—something almost like the power of the First Spinjitzu Master and—

“Are you alright young one?” His voice was still loud but now he was looking at him with concern. 

Lloyd wanted to frown but didn’t. The big guy’s hands were still clasping his shoulders. It was…well not uncomfortable but he didn’t exactly like it. 

(He didn’t really like anyone touching him without asking first.)

“Uh…yeah—yeah I’m okay,” 

The big guy beamed and his eyes glowed faintly electric blue. Weird, kinda like…kinda like Jay. 

“That is good to hear young demigod, say—what are you doing in the mortal realm? I have not seen another immortal since Loki came to Midgard and released those dreaded Chitauri onto the people of New York,” 

(Midgard? New York? Chitauri? Loki?) 

What? He wasn’t immortal. His Dad was probably immortal, but Lloyd could remember tons of times he’s almost kicked the bucket. Lloyd was most definitely not immortal. (Probably.)

And besides even if he was, he would know right?

(Could you die if you were immortal? His..Dad died and Lloyd knew he was immortal so…could..could Lloyd be immortal too? That was a weirdly distressing thought and it was one he firmly ignored. It was not something he exactly wanted to think about.)

“Uhh…could…could you let me go?” Lloyd really didn’t want to be touched right now. Especially by some blond weirdo that somewhere reminded him of Jay in the most strangely specific ways possible. 

The guy blinked and released Lloyd’s shoulders. “My apologies young demigod, I must confess my excitement when I saw you. It has been a long time since I have encountered such a young immortal of your caliber,” 

Caliber?

Lloyd’s eyebrows twitched, and tried to take a step back without it look suspicious. He thinks he did pretty well. What? Again the guy was talking nonsense. At least the demigod thing…kinda made sense? His Dad was some kind of minor deity right? Or was it major? He couldn’t really remember and it’s not like the people of Ninjago readily discussed whether Lord Garmadon was a god of some kind. They just knew he was a conquer and wielder of Destruction and that was apparently good enough for them. 

And that’s all the teachers at Darkely’s talked about too. Conquer Lord Garmadon this and Conquer Lord Garmadon that. They never talked about his godly blood even though Lloyd knew it existed. He could feel it running through his own veins and that’s the only reason he cared to look for legends on the First Spinjitzu Master. Because he could feel it in himself. And that usually was more than enough.

“...Sure,” Lloyd glanced at the blue lights on the right wall. Good, it didn’t seem they were going anywhere. “Um—look—” 

“Thor, Son of Odin. God of Thunder and Prince of Asgard,” The guy—Thor—beamed again, his eyes flashing with something that Lloyd didn’t understand but somehow did??

God, huh? 

The thing deeper than the Bleeding Gold simmered stronger and Lloyd almost flinched as Truth and Absolute Knowledge and Power thrummed for all but a second through his somewhat human blood. It warmed his skin and pushed everything else down as it made its presence known. 

Lloyd almost stumbled but he remedied it by going stiff. 

Why did that something in him recognize that? Recognize that name or..or place or… Lloyd didn’t know. 

“Are you sure you are alright young demigod?” Thor looked at him again with that soft concern, it seemed a lot more personal than it should be. He looked around, eyebrows furrowing. “Are you here alone? Where is your guardian?” 

First of all, Lloyd was perfectly fine by himself and second, no he was not alone. Doctor Strange was…uh…wherever Tony Stark took him. And…uhh…

Thor’s eyebrows furrowed further. It must’ve been his face, Lloyd’s dumb face always gave himself away. He has a terrible poker face.

“How did you get here, young one?” He looked around again and frowned. He pinned Lloyd with a look that made his stomach flip for some reason. It was concern again but there was something else too mixed in there. “Who is your godly mother or father?” And that seemed a little too demanding.

Was…was that a question he should answer? Was it a question he could answer? He was…he said he was a god and he seemed pretty familiar with it all. And there was something else too…

Maybe…maybe he could help? Yeah, maybe…maybe the guy could help him get back to his Realm. He seemed to know what he was doing—maybe he could help with the Realm Crystal too—maybe…

So Lloyd decided to bite the bullet before he could think himself out of it. So far his rash-ish actions haven't killed him yet. So…so it was probably okay right? 

“...Garmadon,” Lloyd took a deep breath and clenched his shaking hands. “My Dad’s Lord Garmadon,” 

Maybe he could help. Maybe this Thor guy could help. 

(Lloyd ignored the thick sadness at the thought of his late father. It was okay—if he pushed it down enough it would just go away. It always did.)

Thor’s eye widened in recognition. “You’re his son?” He looked at Lloyd with a new found wonder. “I did not realize Garmadon had a son,” 

Lloyd blanked. “You—you knew my Dad?” 

Thor nodded, smiling brightly again. “Yes—I knew him well. We attended many parties in our immortal youth. He was a good friend until his duties called him elsewhere,” Thor’s eyes sparkled at some fond memory of his Dad that Lloyd didn’t have privy to. It sounded like Dad was an old friend. And that thought made something unpleasant churn in his stomach and something sad decided that now was a great time to explode in popularity. Lloyd missed his Dad, he missed him so much. 

Thor’s smile turned fond and thoughtful, but still as bright as ever. “And how is your Father? Still conquering Realms and taking names as the mortals call it, I hope?” 

…Was that what Dad did when he was younger? Hurt people and…conquer Realms? That…that kinda made sense. In the letters Dad sent him when he was younger, there were a lot of allusions to conquering Ninjago in the future. Just for Lloyd. Sometimes he would tell Lloyd stories about other Realms through those letters. About how he knew some of the people there, made friends and…made some enemies too. 

But Dad was gone and Lloyd wasn’t getting any more letters. 

(Lloyd still kept some of those letters in a shoe box under his bed, wedged under floor boards and hidden underneath his mattress. He couldn’t keep all of them when they kicked him out of Darkley’s but he tried. He’d reread them sometimes and try to ignore the stinging in his eyes, tremble of his lip and shake in his hands as the delicate paper crinkled under his grieving fingers. He missed Dad, he missed his soft shadowned touches and the four armed hugs he used to give when he could and the kind wisdom he gave when the venom was a distant memory. But Dad was gone and those letters were the only thing left of him.) 

Lloyd ignored the prickling in his eyes and held back a pathetic sniff. He wasn’t going to cry. He’d be fine if he just pushed it down enough. 

Thor deflated slightly, looking at Lloyd with worry. “What is wrong little one?” 

Lloyd clenched his fists till he felt the harsh prick of his nails and stinging warmth of his own blood. 

He shook his head slightly, trying to withhold his frown, knowing it still scarred his face with predictable mourning. 

“Dad’s gone,” 

…

“..I see.” 

A pause and Lloyd didn’t look up.

“My deepest condolences.  I hope his death was in great honor, a man such as him deserved as much,”

Wow. That was…really nice of the guy. Lloyd withheld another sniff and nodded slowly. “Yeah…he..” Lloyd remembered the spell. How acrid and vile it tasted to his own Power. How his Father, snake eyed and bruised with black lavender scales, recited words Lloyd only understood in the depths of his mind and that scratched something unbearably dark in him. How he banished himself and pulled Chen and his goons with him, yanking them all into the Cursed Realm. A place no one could truly escape from. A place his father wouldn’t be able to send any letters from. A place Lloyd would never be able to see him again. A place that Lloyd hated just because it took his Dad away from him. Because….because… Dad was gone. 

“...he died honorably,” He saved more people than Lloyd could hope to. Because it was his Dad that truly helped when everything went south. When the chips were down it was his Dad— Lord Garmadon that saved people. Lloyd could only dream of measuring up to his Dad’s goodness and awesomeness. “He…he saved a lot of people and…it…” Lloyd couldn’t bring himself to say anything else. That overbearing mother of sadness was back. And she was more persistent than ever. He couldn’t  think about breathing properly even if he wanted to. 

Thor was frowning gently, the jovial guy a lot more subdued now. Honestly it made sense. But he didn’t look awkward. Lloyd was too tired to look any deeper into it. So freaking tired. 

“...That is good to hear young demigod,” After a hesitant moment, he laid what he probably thought was a reassuring hand onto Lloyd’s shoulder. He didn’t like it but he left it be, even though it made something uncomfortable skitter under his skin.. “I’m…glad to hear that and I hope you find solace in this dark time,” 

…

Solace huh? That didn’t seem very likely but eh…he’d let the guy feel good about himself.

Lloyd nodded and took a step back. Thor let him and there were some moments of verging on awkward silence. Lloyd kinda wanted to twidle his thumbs but that was dumb and chliche so he didn’t. It wouldn’t  make the awkward standing any better. 

The blue light was still there, as obvious as ever. He didn’t really need to go to the bathroom. He just….needed to find Morro so he could go home. To the rest of his very alive family. 

His mouth moved before he could stop it. 

“It’ll be fine as soon as I get home,”

….

“You are not here on Midgard on purpose?” 

Shoot. Uh–that was supposed to be an inside thought at the least and a muttered thought at the most. Thor wasn’t—

Well…maybe…maybe it wasn’t all bad. Maybe Thor could help. Maybe he knew some other way of getting back to Ninjago. Maybe…

“I…no—I’m…not here…on purpose,” Lloyd said, shifting on his feet just a little. “I….it…I didn’t want to come here to…uhh…M-midgard??” He almost butchered that one. 

Thor’s eyebrows furrowed. “I…see,” He really looked to be contemplating something. “If you don’t mind me asking young one…how did you come to Midgard? If not on purpose?” 

Lloyd swallowed nervously. And there it was. The kicker. 

“I…” Lloyd eyebrows twitched and his fingers clenched under the baggy sleeves. “There…there was this Crystal right? The Realm Crystal…it…” Lloyd shrugged uselessly, feeling a little helpless. “It could transport you to any Realm you had power to go to and it…I wasn’t supposed to be here. It wasn’t supposed to send me here,” 

“And where was the Realm Crystal supposed to send you?” Thor asked gently, voice soft and there was still that ever present way too personal concern. 

“I dunno..” Lloyd shrugged again. That was the thing…it really wasn’t supposed to send him anywhere specific just…”...away—I guess..” 

Thor’s eyebrows somehow furrowed deeper. His expression weirdly serious. “..Away from what?” 

Lloyd opened his mouth to answer and—

And that’s when wind ripped itself through the whole building. Throwing vases and pictures and chairs and the people almost off their feet. It sheirked and howled and sent something very cold stabbing through Lloyd's chest. 

“ That.” Lloyd couldn’t breathe. It was too cold and too hot and something More was wriggling under his skin and he couldn’t—

“Away from—” 

And then something inside Lloyd screamed.

Chapter Text

Lloyd liked strawberries a lot when he was younger. 

He liked the taste, the smell, the texture, the way the good ones had their own unique crunchiness to them. They were certifiably awesome. 10/10. The absolute Best. Capital ‘B’ and what not.

Back at Darkley’s there weren't a lot of good things. The clothes were scratchy and the seams were always in the wrong place. The kids ranged from okay to monstrously terrible. The teachers were probably hired based on how much they loved watching kids beat the crap out of each other and their levels of sadism that coated their beings like acid coated soon to be villains in 10 cent comic books. The food was somehow watery and dry at the same time. Most days were just some kind of slop with mystery meat and an orange that was fermented to the point where the skin squelched when you squeezed a little too hard and the flesh itself was sweet to the point of it being sour and always had an awful lingering aftertaste of thick fruity rot. And it all just ended up tasting bad.

Pretty much everything sucked and growing up there, there wasn’t a lot that Lloyd could enjoy. He didn’t like pushing kids down the stairs and dumping firebullet ants in other kids beds like the teachers wanted him to. He didn’t like learning about torture from the ages of when the Sepentine ruled Ninjago with their Black Magic and spitfire venom. He didn’t like the lessons on lying and how to do it right. How to pretend to be someone’s friend and then stab them in the back after you got what you wanted from them. How to act in ways that you weren’t quite feeling and how to manipulate people as much as you could. He didn’t like any of it. 

Lloyd liked comic books and candy and his Dad’s letters. He liked Brad before Ms. Rummins told him to push him down the stairs, putting her paper thin hands on his shoulders, acrylic nails curling and flourishing looking unnaturally like overly polished and painted cat claws. Her perfume cheap and laid on so thick Lloyd choked on it. She smiled down at him, something was weird about the way she did it—only now when Lloyd thought back on it, that he realized that she probably shouldn’t have been let around children at all. She told him to push Brad down the stairs, her teeth straight and a little yellow around the edges. He remembered being freaked out about her eyes. He didn’t do it and Ms. Rummins had sneered at him, he remembered thinking that her beaded necklaces looked and sounded like bones. 

He and Brad became distant after that—he doesn’t know what Ms. Rummins said about him but it must’ve been bad. Brad joined the group of boys that roamed the halls between classes like a pack of rabid hyenas and dropped fanged lizards down poor unsuspecting shirts and unattended shoes. The black ones that left you with boils and a fever so high you saw shadows with milky eyes and clothes that strangled and bit you. 

Lloyd didn’t have any friends after that. At least Brad didn’t tell anyone about his comic book collection. That really would’ve been the end of him. 

(And nobody knew about the letters. He didn’t have much of his Dad and sharing a piece of him would’ve hurt like scooping out his own eye with a bladed spoon. Which almost happened when Lloyd was six. He didn’t know what possessed the teachers to give a group of literal children torture implements, but at some point he stop trying to understand it.) 

Sometimes, on special occasions—like holidays and Winter Solstice celebrations but never birthdays—they’d get a couple crate fulls of fruit. Fresh fruit . 

Bananas, grapes, apples, (good) oranges, blueberries, raspberries, sometimes pineapple if they were lucky.

And strawberries. 

Lloyd liked strawberries. They were the one thing that he could count on. And Fritz Donegan. Fritz Donegan was his hero and father figure for…a really, really long time. He always knew what to say. (Lloyd had read every issue he could get his hands on and when he stole enough pennies from the other boys he bribed the man that delivered milk in chilled moonshine bottles corked with rubber in his dumpy truck to get him another issue when he came back with milk every other week and sometimes, if Lloyd was lucky, the following week as well. Sometimes they just drank a lot of milk and sometimes it would turn over and spoil.)  

Lloyd would sneak to where they washed the fruit of pesticides and laid them out on a towel to dry and grabbed as many strawberries as he could fit safely in his pockets. Shoving one or two into his mouth, never three, that looked too suspicious and he learned that the hard way. (The bruises faded after a week, and two spots on his forehead ached at the same rate the bruises were fading. They stopped aching after the bruises were gone. He didn’t think about it too hard.) 

Then he’d usually squirrel away the berries into a small mason jar he’d kept under a particularly loose yet disguised floor board, also usually next to his Dad’s letters. (He routinely whipped it down with a wet rang and a knob of soap he kept next to the mason jar. Lloyd was okay with dirt, he just wasn’t okay with the dirt on the best food known to mankind.) He’d eat one every night and the day before they went fully bad he’d eat them all in one sitting feeling vaguely sick yet happy after. It was nice. 

But he was eating strawberries the first time his horns came in. They hurt. A lot. Despite how small they were when they first came in, it still hurt like the freaking Cursed Realm had decided to crap on him and set him on fire. He’s pretty sure some of his organs rearranged themselves that day too. 0/10. Would not recommend. 

(He couldn’t figure out how to mystically hide them until much, much later. He did his best with the hoodie his Dad sent him for his seventh birthday and the bowl cut the school gave him and tried to fix but ended up butchering once and never trying again. It was a work in progress for a long, long time.)

The whole ordeal kinda ruined strawberries for him. He doesn’t know how long he laid on the floor, feeling like his skin was soldering to his bones like melted toy plastic and his insides felt like how boiled eggs smell. And his horns felt unreasonably sensitive afterward. Like unreasonably so. Like when your foot falls asleep and it buzzes until you hit it hard enough and the blood finally starts kicking in. But on his horns . Which—by the way—were completely foreign (and the buzzing never really went away until a whole week went past) and stupid and something he didn’t know what to do about and still doesn’t really to this day. 

So yeah—strawberries were ruined for him. Which sucked, cause he really, really liked them. But now he can’t even smell them with something aching terribly in his lower back. He hopes there’s not something else in his body waiting to come out. Because that would suck. 

Strawberries were something that he wished he still liked but now he just…couldn’t. Which was dumb and stupid and he hated himself for it. 

And it was extra dumb because when Morro’s sick wind tore through the floor, throwing pictures off their hooks and vases shattering against Tony Stark’s pristine walls, Lloyd could swear he smelt strawberries and that thing in his lower back ached with a fury he didn’t know was possible. Something deep in him screamed with something fierce and undeniably powerful and it sent Lloyd to his knees . 

The Loyal Green and Black Purple and Bleeding Gold and the Writhing Blue of the Realm Crystal all screamed with it, a million tiny voices whispered and million tiny needles pressed under his nails and under the folds of his eyes and right where his horns meet skin. Something in him burned and the thing deeper than the Bleeding Gold cried out for recognition Lloyd could’t give it. 

Because he didn’t know what to do. 

He didn’t think he could think clearly if he tried. 

Because it hurt. 

And something snapped. 

And suddenly….

Lloyd wasn’t in his body anymore. 

(::) 

Tony Stark’s residence was near identical to the one in his memories. 

Of course there were the obvious changes in decor. A bronze rimmed vase, an overly colorful painting of an anguished woman, a different arrangement of glass walls and statues of ice. All different. 

But there were still the same steely walls, high ceilings and long winding outlooks onto the city of New York. It smelled faintly of booze and the flowers Ms. Pepper Potts would have delivered on Wednesdays and Saturdays. The air was clean, almost too clean—sharp in some areas. The walls were still adorned with paintings both large and small, abstract and classics—some less expensive prints of great works some obscenely expensive and original. Statuettes and Roman busts of politicians and kings stood proudly and gleamed with polished marble under the crystal fluorescent lighting. The flooring stretched with rich red wood and granite gray tiles where each flooring was deemed fit. Everything was tailored to fit the aesthetic of someone wealthy but still attuned with old works and things of beauty. And it worked. 

A little too well sometimes. 

“You think the kid’ll be okay?”

Steven peered at Stark, the man was dressed in casual attire. A loosely buttoned dress shirt and neatly combed hair was casual enough for the man. Steven could faintly smell lavish and sharp cologne, smelling like blood and strawberry pine. Though Steven didn’t think Stark realized his cologne came off smelling like that. And it wasn’t something Steven was going to comment on. 

As for Lloyd…

Lloyd seemed…odd. Distant—even though the boy was like that most of the time. Watchful and quiet, even when he had things to say. His reaction to the short lesson on the undead was…strange, if he were to use his name sake that way. His eyes were sharper then—fearful maybe and yet…

There was something darker there as well. 

“Yes,” Steven said after a moment of deliberation and thought. Lloyd would be perfectly fine by himself. He had proved to be quite resourceful and clever. Being able to adapt thoroughly to situations and apply his skills as a masterful pianist applies his fingers to the keys of his chosen instrument. Lloyd would be more than fine by himself. (Though Lloyd was distinctly off during that short two hours of lesson and preparation and the leering third hour it took to prepare everything else and something special. Lloyd had disappeared for twenty or so odd minutes during that time. And Steven never asked where he went. But that didn’t stop him from wondering what he did in that spare time.) 

(And he took to the portal like a fish to water, almost melting when he came through fully. Not a bad reaction, just…peculiar.) 

Stark raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?” 

Steven hummed, but said no more. 

There was a minute or so of silence, just the two of them walking before Stark said anymore. The smell of Stark’s calone was starting to irritate Steven’s nose. 

“Hey, where did you find him anyway? I didn’t know sorcerers had apprentices,” Stark walked with one hand in his dress pant pocket, while the other dangled loyally at his side. 

Steven could be grateful he didn’t smell of liquor as he did from time to time. (Steven supposed he had Peter to thank for the lesser consumption of the drink. It was a foul thing but it was something he indulged in when he thought it suitable. A wine glass after a mystical breakthrough for instance. Such things as that were the only times he indulged.) 

“They usually don’t, at least not individual ones,” Steven paused. “And I didn’t find him…I suppose he found me unintentionally,” 

The situation had been stressful for the both of them and he held no ill will towards the boy, just…questions. But pushing would not end well for either party so he left his questions and any potential answers be. Letting them dangle just on the other side of social privacy. 

Stark smiled strangely. “Unintentionally?” He laughed, which was more of a huff really. “What? He just…fell in your lap?” 

Steven remembered how he did indeed fall, not quite in his lap but similarly enough. And the near correct made him smile softly to himself. It was certainly ironic. 

“Yes—in a manner of speaking he did ‘fall into my lap’,” The magic, the gateway, the panicking young man. The thick, dense, Blue magic. It was quite the event and the irony added a touch of humor to the memory. And maybe he would laugh softly one day but not now. Not today And not with everything else happening.

Stark made that strange smile again, this time a little sharper than before. “Really? Tell me about him. He seems like a nice kid,” 

Steven was going to answer but…

The air was thick with something else. Tipped on the knife’s edge, prickling with something rotten. 

The ghost was near. 

“Maybe later Tony Stark—we have a ghost to take care of first before any more pleasantries are made,” He tried to sound amicable—but he couldn’t help the tinge of apprehension in his words. He hoped Stark wouldn’t notice. His magics curled warmly under his skin, tingling at his fingertips. 

Stark hummed, casting a long glance to Steven before nodding. “Right—but after right? I really think he and Peter would get along,” 

Stark seemed really interested in Lloyd’s and Peter’s potential friendship. And while it was interesting, Steven wasn’t sure if something like that was possible. Maybe something talks here and there. But friendship? 

…

The ghost was close. 

In lieu of answering Stark’s question Steven said instead: “Is this where the ghost is?” 

Stark nodded. “...yeah, yeah it is,” Words of social convention only and nothing more and maybe even less. 

Steven gave his own curt nod and without another word began laying the groundwork for his spell. Waving Stark off to the other side of the room first. Getting caught in the crossfire would hurt the spell and their chances of warding the ghost permanently off by quite the sizable margin and that wasn’t something Steven wanted to risk.

It was a complicated thing, untethering and sending the warring spirit off without the proper burial and undead spices. Magic folded around the area, casting a net that would keep the spirit in this singular area. 

Stark made a sardonic comment but Steven paid him no mind. 

Magic flurried and spread and blossomed like a darkening bruise and swelled like the casting of the most noblest of orchestras. Each part of the magic playing its part in a destructively complicated spell. 

And when all was said and done, Steven Pulled. 

And he felt winds sharp and rotten and angry.

And something Evil screamed.

Chapter Text

The Demigod was shivering with magic. 

Thick, rich and writhing. The power of a Godling.

 (If Thor felt deep enough he could feel his old friend Garmadon’s own magic coursing through the boy’s bones. It was familiar. Powerful—something Thor missed dearly.)

He had crumpled to the ground, consciousness snapping and his glowing eyes going fuzzy.

Oh Argr, that probably wasn’t good, was it?

Thor wasn’t sure what to do so…he waited.

He never saw how the Demigod’s eyes shimmered with gold and purple. And he never saw how a phantom tail coiled from under his hoodie and popped out, scaled pale and black, with a tufted barbed end. 

Well he never claimed to be that observant. Or maybe he wasn’t supposed to see and magic cloaked their young master in thick glamours and hidden things. 

Thor didn't see anything. 

And that was his first mistake.

(::) 

Lloyd woke up.

And promptly hit his head. 

He hissed and reached up to his head to rub the spot and ended up hitting his hand against something as well. Something wood. 

What the…? 

Lloyd blinked and tried to squint against the darkness. It was inky and black and he was laying on his back too. The air was stuffy too. 

Lloyd ran a blind hand along the thing he’d hit his head on. Yup, definitely wood. Cold, rough and— ow. Splinters too. 

Okay there was a wooden ceiling above him and…stuffy air and…oh…

He…was..

Was…was he in a coffin? Oh…oh Spinjitzu Master—he—oh he really hoped he wasn’t in a coffin—he really didn’t want to be in one and—

Lloyd, embarrassingly now that he thought back on it, flailed his hands around, trying to find the edges of the box. And…

And there weren’t any, well except the wall. 

Lloyd melted with relief—infinity glad he wasn’t trapped in a box six feet in the ground. Lloyd shuffled out from under the bed, groping around in the dark. He still couldn’t see. He didn’t know where he was but if there was a bed it was probably a bedroom. Not a lot of people stuck a bed in a random place in their house. And…that was a good question? Whose room was he in? (And how did he get here?) 

Lloyd carefully set one foot after the other, slowly feeling his way in what was hopefully towards a wall and a light switch. He had his arms out in front of him like a toddler learning to walk and he was barely lifting his feet off the ground because he didn't want to step on anything breakable or anything that would make him fall on his face. 

His fingers brushed a wall, and he let his palms fall flat against the cold, roughly painted surface. Good, he found the wall. Now just to find the lightswitch. 

Lloyd almost slipped. Something smooth and very slipable crept under his next step and Lloyd had to over correct. 

Spinjitzu Master—what was that? 

After Lloyd stopped flailing like an idiot, he reached down and grabbed it, his fingers crinkling the edges of. Okay—so paper or…Lloyd rubbed it between his thumb and…

Huh. It felt an awful lot like comic book paper. Lloyd felt around the edges of the…book—it was a comic book wasn’t it? 

He slipped on a comic book. Kay…whatever. That was fine, he’d just gently drop it away from the path he was going in and just not step on it again. Easy. 

No. Not easy, Lloyd bumped into a dresser. He went around that too, and after some more feeling around like the blind person he was—Lloyd found the light switch. 

He flicked it and light flooded his vision. 

Lloyd blinked, the sudden light was a little jarring. 

It…it looked a lot like his old Darkley’s room. Small, cramped and probably filled with all the things Lloyd liked but kept hidden for good reason. The place smelled weirdly familiar. Musty and old and….

And like strawberries.

Something inside him was aching and growing and healing over old wounds and creating new ones in the same stroke. It hurt and it felt good and crawled along his spine and curled around his bones. Something inside him was waking up and it wanted something. It wanted something more—

…

Lloyd sneezed and ignored everything.

Lloyd breathed through the weird and ignored his lower back aching like it had been doing recently. He inhaled, held it and then let it out. And did it a second time and a third. Now wasn’t the time to freak out. Now was the time to figure out how he got here and to figure out why he was here. 

Think Lloyd, think. How did you get here? Try to remember. Lloyd glared at the lightswitch, as hoping that if he stared hard enough the answers would come to him in the same burst the light had flooded the room and seared into his eyes. 

He couldn’t seem to…

…

…Oh…

Morro. 

Lloyd swallowed. The…the ghost was here or er…there. In Tony Stark’s tower. Lloyd would recognize that wind anywhere. Just because he wasn’t in control of his body doesn’t mean he didn’t feel the way that wind pulled and tore and shrieked—

Lloyd felt it. 

He felt it in his bones. 

And it was Morro’s wind. Lloyd he…he panicked right? Yeah..yeah that felt right. He panicked and he…he ended up here..? 

Lloyd looked around again, taking in the cramped space, the tiny bed shoved against the corner. The side bed drawers and the larger dresser. The two Starfarer issues he usually put away under his floor boards or in the nook in the wall. He learned how to hide things because the alternative was the other boys finding them and making fun of Lloyd for having them. Which almost always escalated into something worse. But they were out on the floor. Their pop colors stood out starkly against the dull brown that the floorboards were made out of. The matte #30 paper was shiny and glossy. Like your reflection in a shallow, too blue pond if you were feeling partially poetic or romantic about Starfarer. Or a glazed donut if you were as thoughtless as Lloyd was at eight years old. There was something magical about them. The comics.

That’s probably why Lloyd was so… unnerved about them just lying there. Just sitting there, waiting for some kid with grimy finger to pick them up and mock them and poke them and tear the pages out—

Lloyd scooped up the two comics, holding them to his chest. They were warm. 

…

…No..

They weren’t warm, Lloyd was just going crazy. 

Lloyd could put them back. 

…

Lloyd did not put them back, he held them with delicate hands and peaked out of the room, the door creaking like he was back in second grade. 

The hallway was empty and every single one of the doors to the other bedrooms were open. All the way, banged against the door stopper if the building’s designers had bothered to put any in. 

And they were dark too. Lloyd walked out and past the doors, clutching the two comics like they were the only thing tethering him to reality. The rooms were dark. And not in the kind of way when the lights were turned off. No—they were dark dark. Inky black jam packed just after the threshold of the door frame kinda dark. Lloyd swore he saw the black trying to crawl out like thick mist or black paint that had a mind of its own. It was freaky. Like super freaking. 0/10.

Lloyd gave the doors a wide berth, trying to stay away from them as he walked. 

He knew where the exit was, he would be able to get there in less than twenty minutes, then he could fly home on his dragon. Because he was back in Ninjago. He had to be. 

He just…

Lloyd kept walking. 

(The edges of his vision was cloudy, black like those stupid doorways. It hurt to look, so he didn’t. And he ignored that too.)

—||—

He couldn’t find the exit. 

There were just rows and rows and rows of doors. Door after door of endless black and ink. 

Lloyd kept walking, ignoring the whispers that itched at the back of his mind and the fact that the smell of strawberries wasn’t going away. 

His lower back hurt. 

—||—

The rows didn’t stop. They stretched on a on and on and on and on and on and onand onandonandonandonandonand—

He looked back. The doors stretched endlessly behind him and they stretched endlessly in front of him. He didn’t.. Lloyd didn’t know what to do. 

Lloyd kept walking.

And the comics grew warmer.

(It was getting harder to ignore it and his vision wasn’t getting any better. Was it just him or was the edges of everything getting fuzzy?) 

—||—

His feet hurt. 

Lloyd clutched the comics tighter and the paper crinkled under his tightening hands. He was almost tempted to hug them. 

Maybe…maybe…he could go into one of the doors and….

The door was the same as all the other doors, mild, mildew brown, with no pattern whatsoever. Opened casually, beckoning, calling to him with a maw of black. 

Lloyd’s hand curled over the frame and dipped into the room an inch. It was cold, squirming and crawling. Like a million little firebullet ants skittering across your bare skin and tape snakes wriggling and slithering under your feet and through each of your toes. Leaving a trail of flaky ink across your ankles and circling their bodies around your legs as they climbed you like jungle trees. 

Lloyd let go of the door frame and stumbled back. 

Nope, nope, nope, definitely not doing that—

He kept walking, clutching the two comics closer. 

He couldn’t feel his fingers. 

—||—

There were more doors. 

There were too many and there didn’t seem to be an end to them. Lloyd knew this but he just…

He wanted out. There should’ve been a staircase at this point or a window or—or— something. 

Lloyd breathed, harsher then he probably should’ve and glared at the closest door. 

He could…maybe…

…

It was black. It crawled, it squirmed, it wriggled like worms and it writhed like snakes. Lloyd didn’t like black that writhed like snakes. Nuh-uh. Nope. No way. 0/10. Never..never in a million years. He would find a window and at this point he would probably just jump out. He’d take broken glass to weird, creepy, empty black door ways anytime. 

It was freakier because it was his childhood home. As messed up as that was. This is where took his first steps and spoke his first word—it was ‘no’, which wasn’t all that surprising considering the environment he grew up in—he learned a lot of things from this place. Some of them were good, some of them were horrible and down right despicable. But he was raised here until they deemed him old enough to kick out at the ripe old age of eight. So…so even though he hated the place he still…it was weirdly nostalgic. Maybe not good nostalgia but…y’know? He couldn’t help it. 

Lloyd just needed to find a window. 

He wouldn’t mind a broken bone or two if he didn’t have to see a creepy doorway for the rest of his life. 

—||—

Lloyd sat down. There was a break in the endless doors so he took advantage of it. The doors were watching him. A bunch of eyes all looking at him in the gloom. Lloyd knew it, he knew what eyes felt like and the black definitely felt like a bunch of little eyes. 

But there weren’t as many doors now, so…so he sat down. His feet hurt and he put the comics down as well and stretched his fingers out. They were cramping a bit too. 

Lloyd sat. And it was nice. 

There were still doors of course but there was a sizable gap, they still stretched onward and outward but he had a little break. Which was nice. Sitting was nice. 

Lloyd sat. 

—||—

Lloyd picked up one of the comics, he was getting bored. Not a ton but just enough for him to pick the thing up. He didn’t…

Lloyd didn’t recognize this issue. Which was weird because he had pretty much every issue memorized, every issue that ever existed ever. What else was he supposed to do when Lineus Caver and Billy Barlowe locked him in the catalog basement. There may have only been two–ish issues down there but they each had a list of 20 other different issues that were apart of their respective series and he needed the rest of them. So he learned to lockpick with paper clips and assisting needles and how to hit the locks just right with paper weights and heavy books so they just broke on principle. He learned to snag pennies and dimes from unattended pockets and bedside tables and to pretend he was never there in the first place. He got really good at it. He wasn’t proud of it but he needed the rest of those issues. So he got the rest of them even when he was caught and scolded and sent to detention for hours on end. 

They had trips to Ninjago city. They lasted pretty much all day and way until the sky was turning orange and pink and crickets started chirping in the wet country gloom. They usually went to art museums to throw paint cans at the pieces and to large chain grocery stores to see how much they could shoplift in the 30 minutes to an hour they were there. It was a competition that the other kids participated in and the teachers knew about but never bothered to stop it. Technically the school had a rule about stealing but well…school for bad boys remember? It was only a rule on paper. 

But Lloyd didn’t like throwing stuff at cool paintings to ruin them or trying to smuggle a whole laptop, mouse and manual on how to drive and how to not crash a train (or airplane. It depended on your vehicle preference) under your shirt and sneak a few cinnamon caramels while you were at it. He didn’t like that stuff, so instead of stealing expensive electronics and candies, (well, he stole those—he didn’t have any qualms about that) Lloyd stole himself and went to Doomsday Comixs . He perused the isles, asking Mother Doomsday about a million questions, of which he answers with the most grace and respect Lloyd at the time had ever seen an adult present to someone like 20 years younger then them and he bought a comic or two with his stolen pennies and dimes. (He would hide those in his shirt and nobody batted an eye. He could be grateful they were too busy trying to convince the police they did nothing wrong and they did not vandalize the statue at the city park nooo.) 

So yeah…

Lloyd’s never seen this issue. Which was stupid because he did everything he could for two years to get every single issue that ever existed ever. And he didn’t recognize the issue. 

So sue him for being confused, suspicious and maybe just the tiniest bit excited about the untouched mint story in front of him.

And Lloyd looked it over and the fuzzy details cleared up enough for him to see it. (Better than before at least.) 

Fritz Donagan was nowhere to be seen, in his place was a shadowy figure with four arms and glowing red…eyes…

No…

It couldn’t be…

It looked like Dad but…but when he was Lord Garmadon instead of just...Garmadon. Which was weird and dumb and…

Lloyd opened the comic. 

—||—

Most of it was nonsense. The comic pages were full of random things, creepy specific things. Like it had panels of his Dad doing… Lord Garmadon-y things. And it had whole pages going on and on about something that looked like Dad but…didn’t. It was still black, but there was gold too. And dark green too, dark forest green. It had four arms too and horns and fangs had robes that reminded Lloyd of his own gi. Just a little though—it was different but not different enough. 

It was official…Lloyd was creeped out. 

Lloyd flipped through pages and he honestly shouldn’t have been as surprised as he was when the Black Purple snake materialized from the last two pages, ink pulled from the paper and made scales and eyes and a single horn curling up from its forehead. 

It fell into his lap. 

Lloyd almost screamed. He didn’t.

But it was a close thing.

Chapter Text

There was a snake in his lap. 

There was a snake in his lap. 

There was a snake in his lap—

“Oh hush boy, there’s no need for that,” 

Lloyd blinked and then blinked again. The snake was looking up at him, its liquid gold eyes staring into him with what Lloyd swears was vague annoyance. Could—could snakes be annoyed? 

It…rolled its eyes(?) and slithered smoothly off his lap. 

“Uh…” Lloyd felt rather stupid. The snake was looking expectedly at him or as much as a snake could look expect. Should Lloyd say something? What could he say? Better start with the basics. “...you’re not…going to attack me right?” That was not the basics. That was stupid. 

The snake did the eye roll thingy again. “I mean…I could,” It said…hissed… talked? “I’m not sure what that would accomplish though,” 

Lloyd’s mouth was very dry. He opened it and then closed it again. Feeling, for a second time, like a colossal idiot. 

“Listen boy, I don’t have time for this. Open my other half or else we’ll all be destroyed,” 

There was something in the air, something brimming and powerful and something that wasn’t supposed to be there. 

Lloyd stiffened. “What—what do you—” His hair stood on end and his eyes burned like fire. 

Something Writhing and Blue slashed through the floor and ripping up boards and wood and Lloyd bit his tongue as he scrambled up and something too smooth slithered up his leg and draped around his shoulders. 

“W-what–?” Lloyd was terrified. Wind whipped around him, cutting like glass into his skin and his fingers were stiff frozen. The air tasted like metal and death, it was loud and monstrous and splintered exploding outward like a shrapnel bomb. 

“Run boy, run,” 

Lloyd ran, with wood shards ricocheting off his head and Blue Wind ripping up the ground as his feet came down. and he dropped something. 

He didn’t even notice. 

—||—

Something was being destroyed behind him. Thrashing around, destroying railings and doorways and the like. There was a dull ache in the base of his skull and a burning behind his eyes. 

Lloyd ran with the black snake coiled comfortingly around him, hissing soft instructions in his ears. 

—||—

Lloyd eventually stopped running and the snake's tongue lashed in and out. 

He breathed hard and his knees wobbled but he didn’t fall. He was terrified out of his mind. There was something unnatural about that. About the wind and the wood and something was distinctly off about the snake. 

The snake’s scales were nicely cool and there was comfortable darkness about it. Whatever that meant. It whispered nice nothings in the back of his mind and it was hazy for all but a second. 

“Are—are we safe?” He had to ask. The snake seemed to know more than him. He listened closely though, it was still a snake. This snake was different then serpentine, he just knew it. But surely the same stuff could apply? It was a snake so…well it could probably still lie.  

The snake laughed(?), looked behind them briefly. “Hardly,” 

“Oh…” Lloyd resisted the urge to groan. “..great…” 

The snake hummed. 

It was quiet. It stretched and it was very loud. At least he wasn’t breathing as hard now. 

“Do you know what I am, boy?” 

Lloyd shook his head slowly, because he didn’t know. And he was feeling very stupid because of it. Well he knew the snake was well, a snake but that didn’t feel like the whole story. There was more to it, it wasn’t just a snake.

The snake looked distinctly displeased. “Figures,” It slithered around his chest and the tail end of it curling around the nape of his neck. Lloyd shivered, only freaking out a little because there was a freaking snake around his neck. It hadn’t tried to viciously gut him yet, so it was probably fine. Then again, Pythor didn’t try to kill him instantly either.

“What…” Lloyd watched with narrow eyes as it poked around his back and looked behind him. Returning to its coiling shortly after. “What are you? Where am I? What was that—?” The Blue, the Burning Cold, the pure undiluted power—

“Hush boy. There’s no need for so many questions,” It was squeezing him too hard and Lloyd bet he could pry the snake off if he did it really quickly. There were a lot of snakes in his bed the first month after his sixth birthday and you really learned how to get rid of them quickly after the first twenty or so. 

Lloyd’s expression twitched. “You’re the one on me,” 

The snake lifted itself with the grace of a dancer and stared into Lloyd’s eyes. He had to fight back a flinch. The fire was so Cold. “I am and to answer one of your many frankly unnecessary questions: I am you,” It paused. “Well, a part of you,” 

Lloyd blanked. He…what? “You..” 

“Are a part of you?” The snake…scoffed. “Yup,” The snake didn’t sound very happy about it. 

Lloyd had to shake his head to reassure himself he wasn’t going crazy. “You’re…me?” This was all very confusing. “But how—” It came out of a comic, sue him for being confused. Then again most of his life seemed to come out of a comic book, so this might as well happen too.

“You don’t think all of this is real? Do you?” The snake said, voice edging on condescending. Lloyd’s cheeks warmed and he frowned. The snake scoffed again. “Of course you did. Just because it looks like Darkley’s doesn’t mean it is,” The snake paused to look around and again, looking distinctly displeased. “It’s more of…a really strong memory. It’s a piece of your identity, boy. It’s not going away anytime soon,”  

Lloyd opened his mouth, then shut it again. He tried again. He hated feeling stupid. “What does…that mean? It being a piece of my identity? I…can get it not being real..” He could not, it didn’t really make any sense. Lloyd bit the inside of his cheek. “But why here and not the Bounty?” Because he’d think…that whatever this was, if it was going to be a place he lived—then why not the Bounty? The Bounty just made more sense. 

“Pain creates more of an imprint than any kind of contentment does,” The snake wasn’t looking at Lloyd, voice flat and cynical. 

Lloyd swallowed, feeling vaguely sick now. “...oh..” 

The snake laughed, it was a bitter sound. “Yeah, I’m not happy about it either and neither is the other part of you. Honestly between you and me I’d rather have it be the Bounty but here we are.” The snake paused and looked confused, it got pretty close to his hand and continued to look confused. “Where is she by the way?” The snake slinked around him, poking it’s head in places he’d rather not have snake heads go. “Where is she?” The snake was very demanding. 

Lloyd blinked. “I…” The snake poked it’s head down his shirt. “Stop that!” 

The snake withdrew as if burned, it narrowed it’s gold eyes at him. “Where is she?” 

“I dunno!” Lloyd was ready to throw hands. “Who are you even talking about?” 

The snake hissed, the kind that made your hair stand on end and made you break out into goosebumps. “The comic, boy. Where is the other comic? You had it, I know you did,” 

Lloyd tried to remember a second comic. “The comic…?” He did remember it but he couldn’t remember where he’d put it. “It was—” Lloyd pat himself down and his eyes widened. “Oh,” 

“What?” The snake eyes’ glowed like hot magma.

“I…I think I dropped it,” 

“You WHAT?!” 

Lloyd blanched. “Um…” 

“Where? Where did you drop it?” The snake lashed around, seething. 

Lloyd almost didn’t want to talk. “Back…back there—with the uh—the thing…” 

The snake hissed again and Lloyd almost stumbled backwards. “Of course you did,” The snake muttered something in language that Lloyd understood but didn’t quite recognize. “We’re going back,” 

Lloyd felt the all the color in his face suddenly drop to his feet. “Why—why would we…? 

“She’s your other half, without her your merely half of what you are and could be,” The snake said all of this as if it was common knowledge. “We're going back,” 

Lloyd remembered the thing. It was powerful and Writhing and dark and light and Blue and thick and terrible and it hurt just to look at so really he didn’t want to go back and—

He didn’t want to go. 

Pain. 

Golden eyes seared into his brain and exploded behind his eyes. He was choking on smoke and breathing glass. All of his nerves screamed with a vengeance and agony skittered all across his back and dove into his spine. His horns burned like crystal and the white hot edges melted his skin. 

It hurts, It hurts, It hurts, It hurts, It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsit—

Lloyd chokes.

“Okay! Okay well—just stop!” Lloyd’s eyes were prickling and his lungs heaved. It hurts. Please…

Lloyd shook.

The snake made a very disconcerting noise, the weight of the snake was no longer comforting. “Good,” The snake purred in his ear and Lloyd shivered. “Get going boy, we don’t have a lot of time,” 

Lloyd nodded and turned around. 

He went, even though he didn’t want to. 

—||—

The hallways were getting creepy. Like super creepy—0/10. 

He walked and they still stretched endlessly but it felt different this time, sinister almost. It was darker and there was dust now too. Floating around, large like snowflakes. He sneezed a couple times. 

The snake—which was a part of him apparently, a very scary and confusing part of him—was still coiled around his waist and draped over his shoulders. It didn’t talk and Lloyd was pretty grateful for that. He hated that it could… do that to him. Absolutely hated it.

The snake…

It didn’t really have a name did it? 

Lloyd wet his lips, eyes flicked to the black scales and gold eyes too close to his neck. “You…” Lloyd swallowed. “Do you have a name? Because well you’re—uh…” Lloyd trailed off pathetically and kept walking, his footfalls heavy on the splintered and creaking wood. He hoped it wouldn’t break. “...erm..” 

“No, I don’t,” The snake tasted the air, gold eyes burning. “You never gave me one,” 

“Me?” Lloyd was almost tempted to point to himself in emphasis. When was he supposed to name the snake he never knew about?

“Yes you,” 

“Oh.” 

The snake scoffed. “You were a little young for it anyway and it’s not like your Father was there to tell you about us,” The snake…muttered(?) bitterly. 

Lloyd didn’t know how to feel about that. “What…” The question felt venomous in his dry mouth. “What was Dad supposed to tell me?” 

The snake didn’t talk for a while and Lloyd kept walking. The wooden floor was getting…wetter almost. Soaked with something and it felt kinda like walking in wet soaks. A feeling that made him wrinkle his nose from the grossness. It was squelching too. 

“How human do you think you are?” 

Lloyd almost tripped over his own feet and the weird wet ground didn’t help. “Um..” Lloyd had to think about it. “Pretty..pretty human?” 

“You don’t sound very sure of that,” The snake’s scales were shiny like oil and slick like it too, but undeniably dry at the same time. With it so close to his face, Lloyd could see a soft purple mist clinging and billowing from the inky scales. It’s eyes glowed like the sun and simmered like deep bronze.

Lloyd’s pretty sure he’s very human. His Mom was very human, completely human. And Dad was…a little human? He didn’t actually know. So he’s at least half and then some. It…he felt a little cold after that. How human was he? He always thought he was more human then not and he’s never really had to think about it too hard before. Did the not human parts of him make him not quite fully a person? Was Lloyd still considered a person? 

“I’m a person,” He had to justify it. Because he was. He had to be. 

Lloyd remembered when he first figured out his not humanness. He was counting his stolen money and he’d been feeling off. This was after his horns had grown in, just days too. He knew regular people didn’t have horns or eyes that glowed purple when they got too mad. Usually to feel better he’d read Starfarer but Starfarer wouldn’t work and he knew it. So he hid his dimes and quarters and he slinked himself over to the library. Keeping a now highly sensitive ear on the lookout for any teachers or nasty peers. He had to cram himself behind a bunch of old boxes as Mr. Rumple stomped past, dragging Rex Paperlings by the ear behind him. Rex squirmed and yelled profanities as Mr. Rumple looked murderous. He got to the library with no further complications and started looking for and reading books like a possessed person. Tearing through them quicker then he tore through caramel candies and spiral candy pops. He read biology books, musty old folklore books, books on ghosts and demons, scientific papers—of which he barely understood a word of—he read anything remotely related to ‘can people grow horns and why do they grow horns out of nowhere?’. He put it together slowly, his mind working so fast he felt like his brain was dribbling out of his ears. 

There were books, scrolls about his family. About his Dad and his Uncle and his Grandfather. He was descended from a God. The God. So were Dad and Uncle—he’d never meet either of them but it was still cool. Well, he’d meet Dad’s shadow but that wasn’t nearly as close to the real thing. It was cool and very, very scary. He had horns because his Grandfather was a pure son of True Oni and True Dragon—whatever that meant—so Lloyd was a descendent of True Oni and True Dragon. He really was part Dragon and Oni. He did have to find pictures of them to know what they look like, ‘cause now he was curious and he decided that it was even cooler. 

After that he was satisfied. He put the books back and left, content with knowing a little more about himself. He almost forgot about it too. 

But now it was back, itching and clawing at his mind. 

How human was he? 

How much of a person was he? 

Was he even—

“I never said you weren’t and keep walking,” 

Lloyd almost tripped again, he felt a little lightheaded. He kept walking. 

The ground continued to squelch and muddy blue water built up around the civilian shoes he was wearing. It was gross. 0/10. 

“You—you said I wasn’t human,” 

“I never said that,” The snake’s powerful body shifted and Lloyd got a brainful of the snake squeezing his neck so hard it popped off his shoulders. “I only asked if you knew how human you were. Don’t get it mixed up boy,” 

Oh. Right, it did ask that. But it sure felt like it was telling him he wasn’t human, he was a little resentful about that. 

“Well? How much do you think you are?” 

“I..” Lloyd didn’t really know. “..e-enough?” 

He got the distinct impression that the snake was smiling. “That’s a very cute answer but not the one I was looking for,” The snake’s lazy gold eyes flashed dull bronze. Maybe it was thinking about something? Lloyd watched it as it paused—silent for far too long to be comfortable. Lloyd was almost tempted to stop walking but he remembered the pain it could just give to him and thought otherwise. 

Now Lloyd wanted to know. How human was he? By the way the snake was talking about it seemed he was well, less than he thought he was. It was…it was thought he didn’t really want to think about but he had to. His humanity was never in question before. He thought he was more, he knew he was more, so…how much more was he? Was he a vague oni-dragon shaped human or was he a vague human shaped oni-dragon? Was his baseline human or was it something else entirely? Was the human part of him just a side dish to everything else? What if he was a dragon-oni trapped in a human flesh sack? What if—

“Stop,” 

Lloyd stopped, his breathing was a little too fast.

“We’re here,” 

Lloyd looked up and saw something that made him want to piss himself. 

Chapter Text

Tight muscles, dark blue scales. A long jaw, with teeth bigger than his forearm. A cluster of toxic yellow eyes peppered like gunshot wounds all over the reptilian face. Four arms and two powerful hind legs with rolling joints, grasping clawed fingers and toes and black under scales slick with something nauseating. A crown of thorns wreathed its head and neck in a mass of horns and sharp platting. A long, whip-like tail coiled dangerously behind it. 

It was perched on the walls, wood splinters ripping out and raining down every time it pulled one of its hands free and dragged itself forward. It hissed deep in its throat, a powerful, thick sound. Black slick dripped from its mouth like saliva and every single one of its piercing yellow eyes were on him. 

It was big. Bigger than Lloyd thought it would be and in the center of its eye speckled face was a gem. A gleaming thing, that always seemed to catch the light. Glowing with malice and rippling space distortion. 

The Realm Crystal. 

There was a feeling. A quivering feeling that crawled up his legs and slithered up his spine and webbed something thick in his throat. 

Fear. 

Lloyd was afraid. 

A pathetic noise worked up and past his lips. The Snake’s body wound tighter around chest, squeezed just a bit to make Lloyd gasp with the sudden pressure. 

He shot back to his body as a clawed hand slammed down. He pivoted and danced away. 

He looked up and the Realm Crystal stared back at him. Every one of its eyes pricked with a cut of black that made up the pupil. 

“Focus boy, where is my other half?” 

Lloyd grit his teeth and leapt away from another attack. The air smelled like ozone and the power radiating off the Realm Crystal singed the tips of his hair. It smelt like old wood and rain and blood. Sweat dried on his face the instant it appeared and the sweater he was wearing wasn’t helping the situation. 

He dodged another attack. 

“Focus boy,” 

“I—” Lloyd fell to the floor, balancing on his fingertips and the Realm Crystal made a wide arc above his head. He pushed up and twisted to avoid another swipe. He could taste the sweat on his lips. “I’m trying not to die here!” 

The Snake moved elegantly with him, twisting when he did, ducking when he did, eyes flashing when Lloyd did a backbend to avoid getting his head sliced off. “Find her boy, that’s the only way we’ll survive this,” 

Lloyd’s calves burned, his breath was pulled from his lungs too fast and a nick left blood clotting in his brow and threatening to fall in his eye. 

Lloyd groaned and scanned the area. “I don’t see anything!” He dodged another attack. The Realm Crystal roared and a window shattered. 

The Snake’s liquid eyes shimmered with a deep amber color. “Look harder,” 

Lloyd groaned and swept his eyes over the area again, he twirled on his heel to avoid another hit. Then he saw it. A special edition Fritz Donegan comic, laying inconspicuously on the shredded ground. It looked fine from where he was. 

There. 

The Snake’s head snapped to where Lloyd was looking and it almost looked like it was smiling.  

“Get her,” 

Lloyd didn’t need to be told twice. He doesn’t think he’s ever ran so quickly in his life. His breath stung, he blinked at the blood in his eyes and every part of him burned. Something inside tugged so harshly that he nearly collapsed. He didn’t, he ran for it and scooped up the special edition. He tore it open so quickly he thought he ripped it. He dropped to a crouch to avoid another hit. The Realm Crystal roared again. More glass shattered and all he could taste was sweat and cooper. 

The lines in the comic wiggled and another snake appeared. Pearly white from tip to tail with two draconic, feathered wings making up the majority of its body. The scales looked almost feathery as well and its eyes were a clean, crystal lavender. 

He almost dropped the snake, fumbled and clutched the snake tighter. The white snake slowly blinked up at him and then looked behind him just as slowly. A shadow was passing over Lloyd but something else was scuttling down his back and something hot and fractal was poking through his skull. Horns. His horns.

The white snake purple tongue flicked in and out as it considered him, then the black snake and then the Realm Crystal itself. He got the feeling that the snake would be laughing if the situation was different. (The black snake was completely silent.) 

“Oh dear,” It’s voice was light and musical and Lloyd got the feeling that if he ever had any kind of alcohol that intoxication would feel the same as listening to the white snake's voice. Strange, but not unpleasant. “ We’re in a bit of a predicament, aren’t we?”

Chapter Text

You see, while all of this was going down. A 16 year old sat, hunched over his homework. Completely unaware of what was happening at Stark Tower.

And that 16 year old was Peter Parker, aka: Spider-Man. Not really anyone knew that he was Spider-Man except for Ned and Tony Stark or Mr. Stark as Peter often called him. Well, most of the other Avengers knew who he was and he’s pretty sure Ms. Pepper Pott knew and…Well, lots of people knew. But also, not a lot of people. None of the kids at his school knew and Aunt May didn’t know either—so really it was fine. It was fine that they didn’t know, better even. It was safer that way. 

Anyway, there Peter was, doing his homework. When he realized that he may have bit off more than he could chew.

Peter packed up his stuff, said goodbye to Aunt May and made his way to Stark Tower. 

It would just be a quick visit, he hoped that was okay. 

(::) 

Lloyd was running again. Two snakes languished around him and he meant languished. It almost seemed like the two snakes were attempting to make love while they were wrapped around. While Lloyd was trying to—y’know— not die. 

The Realm Crystal attacked again. Lloyd dodged. The snakes whispered to each other. The Realm Crystal tried to take a chunk outta him again, Lloyd dodged by the skin of his teeth. The snakes rubbed scales. Ect. Ect. (It was kinda gross almost, it felt like he shouldn't be glancing down at them at all, but the problem was that they were on him. What was the snake equivalent of sex? Why did it feel like they were doing that but wrapped around his chest and shoulders? He could feel them moving. It would’ve been cool if it wasn’t so weird and they weren’t on him and he wasn’t trying not to die .) 

Lloyd continued running. His legs hurt, his knees, his everything hurt. 

He glanced down again and looked away. He could talk and not look at them. Right? That’d work out fine right? 

“Alright—” Lloyd huffed and turned a corner. His shoes left skid marks in the wet, splintered wood and blast of Blue Magic destroyed a wall, opening it up to more and more hallways. There was a mess. It was loud. The air tasted like thunder. “What—wha’do we do now?” Lloyd almost yelled. He wouldn’t be surprised if he did. 

The snakes hiss–whispered to each other for a second longer and the white snake turned and gave her attention to him. (Lloyd almost wished she hadn’t. The gaze was sharp, like the black snake’s but different in a way Lloyd couldn’t place but hated anyway.) 

“We wait for you to figure it out Lloyd,” She said, which did not help at all. 

“Wha—” Lloyd dodged again, blood clung to his eyelashes and the space inside his lungs felt like it was half filled with salt water. Nauseating and choking. “I don’t—” The Realm Crystal swiped, Lloyd pivoted and almost tripped on his shoe laces. He couldn’t breathe. 

“Oh look, the poor thing’s confused,” 

Lloyd felt like he should feel offended. He still couldn’t breath.

The white snake looked properly apologetic. “I’m sorry Lloyd but we can’t help you with this part. We are only here for your use. We are a part of your Soul, your being. You must learn to use us or else the Realm Crystal will surely kill you,” 

Lloyd didn’t— dodge— know how to— jump— use the stupid— duck and roll— First Master’s snakes! 

He can’t—

Lloyd got hit. 

There was a half second where he felt everything. The buzzing in the air. The breath in his lungs. The tongue in his mouth. The snakes around him and how each and every part of them felt. He choked and it all hit him at once. 

The pressure, deep, bone crushing pressure. Every part of him, every single bone and nerve in his body lit up with a bright, white neon ‘OUCH’ sign. Sharp and uncaring if it blinded you or not. Lloyd’s vision flashed so hard he could feel the bile on the roof of his mouth. He could feel his eyes shutter in their sockets and the horns on his head work their way out of the place he usually put them. 

Lloyd was in pain. 

That didn’t even account for the wall he hit afterwards. 

Lloyd blacked out. 

….

…

..

.

..

…

….

But only for a second. 

Blood dripped down his lips and his eyelids fluttered. He couldn’t move. The snakes were saying things but he couldn’t hear them. 

It hurt so much. It hurt so much and it got him thinking. The pain got him thinking. Because he was going to die. He was going to die right here. In a Lloyd shaped wall hole, with Soul snakes curled around his body and a Crystal the size of his head but only actually bigger—trying and making his death a reality. Lloyd was going to die. 

And he wasn’t going to see any of his family again. Lloyd was going to die alone, blood soaked with only his own death and snakes for company. Snakes. Can you believe that? Lloyd didn’t even like snakes. They were such bad company. Lloyd would know, he was kidnapped by them for weeks. Held hostage in a cage while the ninja spent their time looking for the fang blades. 

He was going to die. That was pretty sad wasn’t it? Lloyd was going to die and he wouldn’t even get to say goodbye. He wouldn’t even get to go to the bathroom before he kicked it. What was it like? Death? Was it nice? Dying wasn’t nice, that's for sure. Bleeding out wasn’t nice. Talking to snakes wasn’t nice. Lloyd hasn’t even had a taco before. And maybe that was even sadder. He’d never had a taco before. No time for tacos when the world was getting destroyed every other week. No time for tacos. No time for friends. No time for anything that could be considered normal. 

Lloyd was tired. He was bone deep tired. He was tired of training, of life and death situations, tired of having to live up to the Golden Green Ninja prophecy and reputation. (Which apparently went way deeper than just ‘defeating the dark lord’. Who knew, not him. And he didn’t even sign up for it. The gig was completely non consensual.) 

He missed his Dad. He missed his friends. He missed tea and meditation too. He missed a lot of things. Things he wouldn’t get to do because he was dying. 

…

..

…

…Lloyd didn’t want to die. 

He didn’t…

He may have been tired but he didn’t want to die. He wanted things to go away but he didn’t want to die. What point was there to dying? What point was there to laying six feet under the ground with nothing but worms and your family’s tears watering the flowers left there for company? What was the point? Why was that even an option? Why was that an option now? Of all things? To die. Lloyd didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to die at all. 

If he died then that was it but if he lived he could his family again. 

And that…and that was enough . 

Lloyd breathed through the glass in his lungs and swallowed the blood back down. He stood on shaky legs and looked death in the eyes and sneered. 

“Not today bitch,” 

Lloyd reached out to every part of him and Pushed. He pushed with everything he had. 

Realm Crystal shrieked. A terrifying, earth shattering shriek. He pushed with every part of him. Everything. The Black Purple, the Bleeding Gold, the Loyal Green. Every single one of his thoughts Pushed with it. 

The Realm Crystal clawed at the walls, whipping its head back and forth, trying to find purchase where there was none. 

Every ounce of himself Pushed . The Realm Crystal tore, writhed and wailed and for one last time it tried to kill him. Lloyd Pushed and It got Pushed out . Out of the walls. Out of Darkley’s. Out of his Soul. Out of his life. 

Out…

Of Lloyd. 

And then…

Quiet. 

Lloyd breathed. Blood dripped and his knees shook. He blinked slowly, his eyes wide and almost…too lucid. Too clear and too tired all at once. 

Lloyd swallowed. His mouth was dry and it felt like he got hit by a bus. Maybe even two. 

…

The snakes were quiet too. 

He blinked again and looked. 

The Realm Crystal was gone. Things were destroyed, burnt, charred, frozen, splintered, cracked, fractured. The whole nine yards.

But Lloyd was okay. 

He breathed out. 

Lloyd was…okay. 

“...oh…” 

Lloyd vision went black. 

And this time. 

He woke up.

 Just as he was supposed to.