Chapter Text
Alex Rider had long become acquainted with the ambient sounds of diners in the city of Ninjago.
The clinking of forks against plates, the talk of townspeople dealing with their daily lives, narrated effortlessly by the honking of the traffic, muffled graciously through the glass windows.
He absorbed himself into the environment, soaking in the shitty coffee and chain-smoking a pack of camels. For Alex, this was a simple pleasure. A practical vacation from the storm that endlessly brewed in his mind.
The smoke that danced off the end of his cigarette, let off a lazy haze that paused in bursts as Alex tapped off the excess ash onto the plate under his coffee cup. He looped his fingers around the handle and brought the cup to his lips, sipping at the mug of lukewarm decaf.
His mind was elsewhere, as it almost always was.
Every passing day felt the same – the familiar emptiness he had grown accustomed to was growing too heavy to bear, and the repetition drove him insane.
He felt trapped within his own life, memories of his childhood seeping into adulthood like mold in the foundation of the walls within his head. It was inescapable and buried his resolve under a coffin of sickness, dragging him deeper and deeper into the illness.
After spending his formative years as a spy for the British government, he had eventually grown up. And with the coming of adulthood, came the realization he wasn’t needed anymore. Like a child star thrown aside once they lost their cute-ness, Alex had grown out of the edge he once had as a teen spy, and eventually left the life all together. But the life didn’t seem to leave him.
He had moved to Ninjago on a whim. In the hope of finding some sort of solace, albeit in a city still full of crime and lacking a coherent police force – instead relying on a group of ninja. Of all things.
Setting back down his drink, he took a long drag of his cigarette, leaning back into the booth where he sat, taking in the buzz as he allowed his eyes to drift around the room. He could recognize the waitresses and some of the regular clientele. It was second nature for him to people-watch, something his uncle had instilled into him at a young age.
One person in particular caught his eye – someone sitting at the counter, wearing a dark mask and seemingly loitering more than anything. They had no food or anything in front of them, and if anything they seemed to be stalling.
His curiosity was thoroughly piqued. It was in his nature to get involved in problems that shouldn’t have anything to do with him, but he found comfort in knowing that the stakes weren’t as high as they were when he was a teenager.
He was fine with making enemies with pesky criminals, as opposed to entire organizations that had him out for blood. This was well within his wheelhouse.
Alex leaned forward at his table, nonchalantly getting a better glance at the guy. The mask had unique details that mimicked the style of makeup that goons from the Sons of Garmadon would’ve donned.
It had been a year or two since that entire incident. One couldn’t be too sure.
He took another good sip of his coffee before fizzling the flame of his cigarette out into the liquid, allowing the ash to melt away into the brown abyss. His hand drew to the wallet in his pocket, while his eyes lingered on the subject of his attention, watching closely as they slid off their stool and made a speedy exit out of the diner. Their absence followed up with the cutesy sound of the dinging bell above the door.
He set some cash onto the table and slipped out from the booth. He quickly followed the figure out of the building, albeit quite a few paces behind them.
Following the person down the street, he stuck his hands into the pocket of his jacket, and spared some glances toward the environment around him as he walked. Ninjago was a bustling city and was especially beautiful at night. The way the multicolored lights filled his vision was something Alex had always somewhat appreciated about the place, it was far more bright and shiny than London ever was.
Sure, it didn’t feel like home, but honestly nowhere in particular has for a long time.
As cars passed and people walked by, Alex estimated he had been following this guy for about 15 minutes. Eventually, the person turned into an alleyway, and recognizing the area, they couldn’t be too far from the docks of Ninjago.
Alex waited for a few beats before crouching down and leaning against the brick wall. Carefully, he peaked around the corner.
What met his eyes was the person in the mask approaching a large freight truck, meeting up with another man, donning an even stranger outfit, something straight out of an old Cliff Gordon western.
The man leaned against the truck, with a cigar dangling precariously out of his mouth.
“You got my money, boy?” The cowboy wannabe asked, taking a big puff of the thick cigar.
“I need more time.” The person in the mask said honestly, a now anxious aura to their body language.
“You said that last time, bucko.” Cowboy grinned and stood up from the truck, towering over the guy in front of him. “I came all the way here, just for you to let me down again?”
“I-” The guy began to explain, yet could only gag as the cowboy wrapped a hand around his windpipe. The sound of his struggle was silent, his legs kicking desperately as the cowboy lifted him up effortlessly.
“I don’t like bein’ disappointed.”
Alex began to slowly creep out and around the corner, mentally questioning the right time to intervene.
He still knew nothing about what was happening and felt intrigued to know more. What the hell was this guy selling? What did it have to do with the Sons of Garmadon, if they already had been defeated?
Cowboy watched with a smile on his smug face as the guy in his grip made whimpered out inaudible apologies, unable to make any sound as the thick fingers around his neck tightened.
This went on for a beat, before the Cowboy threw him to the ground without a second thought. The guy, obviously startled, heaved out desperate breaths of air and lay on the ground, either too weak to move or simply too scared.
But Alex froze in place, knowing that he had been the one to catch the man's attention.
“Shit,” He mouthed to himself, holding that if he just remained still, he wouldn’t be noticed.
God, he was rusty on his spy skills.
“Well, looky what we have here,” Cowboy turned around slowly as he slid his hand into the holster belt around his waist, his fingers lingering on the switchblade at his disposal.
“You must’ve led on some vermin, my friend.” Looking toward the guy on the ground, Cowboy kicked the man with the back of his foot before continuing forward.
Alex subtly flinched as he eyed the poor guy, who was left writhing in pain. He slowly raised from his crouched position, already calculating an escape route.
Cowboy snickered as he got closer, and soon he was standing right in front of Alex, looking down at him with amusement painted on his gruff face.
Alex attempted to lunge out of the way, but the cowboy was already two steps ahead, and in one swift motion, had Alex pinned up against the brick wall with a knife carefully positioned over his trachea.
Alex let out careful breaths. If he moved even an inch, it would slice through.
“You wanna explain yourself?” Cowboy looked Alex in the eyes, a lack of humanity reflecting through brown voids of contempt. He took one more drag off his cigar, before dropping it and kicking it away.
“Just…just an honest mistake, sir…” Alex said, glancing from the Cowboy to the guy on the ground, then towards the freight truck.
“Didn’t your mommy ever tell you to stay out of other people's business?” The cowboy shoved the knife closer, “And look at me while I’m speaking to you.”
Alex refocused on Cowboy’s face, taking in his features. He certainly played the part well, with a dirty scruff hanging on his cheeks, and upon closer look, a sickly tint to his tanned skin.
“No, sir…It wasn’t my intention…I was just passing through…” Alex pleaded, trying to look as pathetic as possible.
While he was distracted, Alex reached forward to try and feel for something he could take out of the cowboy’s belt…there had to be something in there he could use.
“Likely story,” Cowboy narrowed his eyebrows at him, “Maybe I should teach you a lesson?”
Alex then tilted his head as if to point. “Uhm…behind you, sir…”
“Huh?” The cowboy whipped his head back to look behind him, and to his surprise, the masked man had gotten off the floor and was headed to the back of the truck to grab one of the boxes.
Perfect.
Alex had slipped a blade out of the Cowboy’s belt, and while he was distracted, hit him in the face using the blunt edge of the handle. The cowboy huffed out in pain, and Alex used this as an opportunity to break out of his grasp, taking the moment of his underhandedness to get another hit in, this time in the stomach. Shoving away the cowboy, he ran to get closer to the truck. He needed to know what was in there.
“You son of a bitch!” The cowboy was quick to recover, his grasp on the knife tightening as he lunged towards Alex, slashing at him.
“You seem to have a lot to say about my mum,” Alex replied, simply unbothered, swiftly meeting the slash with his own. He managed to both counter and predict each rapid slice, causing the blades to clang and ricochet off each other in succession.
Clearly growing impatient, cowboy drew back his knife, trying to go for one large slash, but Alex ducked down and used the momentum to sweep the man’s legs out from under him, allowing a few seconds of breathing room.
Alex backed up to the truck, and he soon realized the guy in the mask was long gone, having already made it out with a box.
But still, there were plenty of boxes left in there, and Alex took the opportunity to use his knife to rip open the top of one and peek inside.
Within a few milliseconds, he had sliced through.
And to Alex’s surprise, it was a bunch of amethyst.
Or at least, that's what he thought it was.
He didn’t get long to look, with Mr. Cowboy already back up onto his feet, and throwing a punch his way.
Alex didn’t have enough time to dodge, stumbling to the side away from the truck as the punch rocked him.
“Oh you’ve done it this time, boy,” Cowboy furrowed his brow, overwhelming Alex with hits as he was unable to grasp his bearings. It’s been a while since he’s done this.
Alex wasn’t even able to visually register the hits as pain surged up the side of his body and the underside of his chin. The familiar taste of iron met his tongue as blood rose to the back of his throat.
He had been too confident. He went in blind, without even a sense of what he was dealing with. Something told him that this was more than petty crime. It had to be.
As he got barraged with swift punches, he could only throw back a hit occasionally. He needed to get the upper hand back. Or at the very least, he needed to escape.
Backing up toward the entrance of the alley, Alex met punches with kicks, and dodged the occasional swing of a blade.
“You ought to learn to mind your damn business,” Cowboy landed a hit to Alex’s abdomen, knocking the wind out of him entirely and knocking him to his knees. His body was throbbing everywhere, and his mind was yelling at him to stop. “Now, you made me lose some very precious merchandise. I expect you’ll be payin’ me back?”
Alex opened his mouth to respond, but whatever sarcastic remark he was mustering was replaced with the sound of him choking on his own blood, a knee to the stomach. Cowboy was now towering over him, holding him firmly still by the head.
“Now don’t worry, your money ain’t worth nothin’ to me,” Cowboy had a grin unlike anything Alex had ever seen. Sure, he’s heard many evil plans and seen even more ugly faces. But there was something so unnerving about this guy, something he couldn’t correctly identify. “How about this, I can make us real even. An eye for an eye, you could say?”
The man’s cold hands forcefully lifted back Alex’s head, tangling fingers into his long blonde hair.
Cowboy lifted his blade, and as soon as it was within Alex’s sight, it was brought swiftly back down toward him.
As the cool metal pierced the inside of his eye, Alex could’ve sworn he screamed.
But no sound came out of his mouth as the pain took over every facet of his being.
Every injury he’s ever had came to mind at once. Every punch, every kick, every broken bone, every bullet wound. This was all of that. Condensed into one area, piercing through him like a virus taking over his body.
The ground seemed to fall toward him, his body meeting the concrete.
A sharp ringing filled his ears, and what was left of his vision blurred, leaving only the night lights and shadows surrounding him.
The cowboy said something, but Alex didn’t hear it. He had stepped away, but Alex didn’t see it.
He needed to stay awake. He couldn’t go into shock.
His lungs heaved in air desperately, yet each inhale was a punch to the chest. The blood flowing down his cheek was warm like tears.
This was it. How pitiful.
He attempted to fight losing consciousness with the little strength he had left.
He had no idea how long he was left on the ground for, every minute passing like an eternity of hell.
He could’ve sworn he heard people. He could’ve sworn he felt hands moving him up from the floor.
But that was when the world went black.
~
The next time Alex woke up, he was met with unfamiliar territory.
He had to blink several times…but no matter how many times he tried, it never felt like he was awake enough.
His first instinct was to freeze, slowly gazing around what was in his limited range of sight.
He felt soft sheets under him, his hands grasping slightly at the gentle fabric.
Sunlight was peeking in through what could’ve been a window behind him. From what he could tell, the room was a barren of decoration other than an ancient looking painting hanging on the wall to his left. Not only that, but there were a few pieces of furniture strewn about. This room seemed unassuming enough.
As he moved to sit up, his body was rocked with a wave of pain, causing him to curse out as he braced himself half-way up.
“Be careful,”
Alex nearly jumped upon hearing the voice, quickly snapping his head to his right, where it came from. Why hadn’t he seen them sooner?
“Who are you?” Alex asked breathlessly, staring at the robot– er Nindroid that sat in a chair to the right of him.
Ever since moving to Ninjago, Alex was used to seeing the unique people he inhabited, but never once had he actually met someone like a Nindroid.
Before the Nindroid could answer, Alex interrupted him with further rapid questions.
“Where am I? How did I get here? How…How long have I been here?!”
“Please, let me explain…” The Nindroid held up his hands in order to show he meant no harm, before moving to gesture to himself. “My name is Zane. Two days ago, we discovered you, injured, a mile away from the Ninjago shipyard.”
“...We?” Alex raised an eyebrow, though the action caused him to wince in pain. The right side of his face hurt. It hurt bad.
“The Ninja and I,” Zane answered, placing his hands perfectly onto his lap. He was sitting so straight in that chair that half of Alex wondered if he had a metal spine. Do Ninodroid have spines? He wasn’t quite sure.
“You didn’t take me to the hospital?” Alex further questioned, pulling himself up further as to lean entirely against the headboard of the bed he sat in.
Zane hesitated for a moment, finding the right words to say. “Well…it was apparent that your injuries had to be tended to as quickly as possible,” He explained, “The rate of your survival had been far greater had we treated your wounds on our ship, the Bounty, rather than take you all the way to a hospital.”
“Is that where I am now? Your ship?” Alex crossed his arms.
“Not exactly, you’re now at our Monastery. Where you’ve been recovering further ever since.” Zane then reached for something on the bed-side table – a glass of water – handing it to Alex. “Please, drink up. I’d just like to ask you a few questions.”
Though Alex was still apprehensive, it was only fair that he answered his own share of questions. He took hold of the glass, chugging it down and letting the cold water refresh him. It also helped drown the lingering metallic taste that had been left in his mouth.
“Do you remember what you were doing there that night in the alleyway?” Zane asked, ready to mentally take note of Alex’s account.
Alex thought of his answer carefully. He wasn’t sure how honest he should be. Sure, these Ninja had apparently saved his life, but he was unsure of their true nature.
Alex eventually settled with a vague answer. “...I got lost. I suppose some people in Ninjago don’t take kindly to being asked for directions.”
“How unfortunate,” Zane nodded with a frown etched deep into his titanium features, “Now…Can you recall any details of who attacked you?”
“How could I forget?” Alex blew air out of his nose in a half-hearted laugh, “He was some kind of cowboy. Looked like he hadn’t showered in a few days. Tan skin, brown eyes, curly black hair.”
“A cowboy…?” Zane tilted his head, “Do you know what he was doing there?”
“He was doing some sort of exchange with another person…could’ve been drugs or something, but he had an entire truck full…eventually he saw me and attacked me.” Alex shrugged, going through the fight once more in his mind.
Masked man, alleyway, Cowboy, amethyst.
Something was missing though…something he couldn’t quite remember.
“This is very helpful, thank you Alex.” Zane then gave him a reassuring smile.
Alex gave him a look, half clever recognition and half confusion. “I never told you my name.”
“Your ID,” Zane said simply and pointed over toward the storage bench at the end of the bed. “Your wallet and everything else you had on you in there. Even your clothes, we washed them for you.”
Alex then looked down, and noticed the clothes he had on. A black hoodie and jeans. Only now did he recognize he hadn’t been wearing this before. His other clothes would’ve still been bloodied.
“Oh…thank you.” Alex let out a sigh of relief.
Maybe he wasn’t exactly in his right mind after what happened. But he still had to be on guard.
He raised his hands to finally rub the sleep out of his eyes, hoping to finally fix the odd way his vision looked.
But as his hand made contact with the right side of his face, his stomach dropped.
He felt a thick, cotton patch.
As he cautiously put pressure on the area, not only did he feel a pain like no other, but the patch seemed to bow under his finger tips with little to no resistance, like stepping into a hole covered with only a pile of leaves.
That’s when he realized.
“An eye for an eye.”
The moment replayed in his mind, and as his face contorted into one of horror, he turned to face Zane.
“My eye is gone.”
His voice was low, coated in anger.
Zane opened his mouth to give words of comfort, but none came. He was unsure of what to say. Instead, he reached forward to put a supportive hand on his shoulder.
But Alex shoved him off, and stood up out of bed, ignoring the crying protest of his body.
“Alex, you must rest-” Zane stood up to follow him, but Alex was already out the door, letting his anger carry him.
He stormed down the hall, unsure of where he was going.
“You ought to learn to mind your damn business.”
Alex couldn’t remember the last time he felt so angry.
This cowboy…he had fought dirty. Alex could understand a broken bone or two, hell, even a flesh wound.
But he had been deliberate. With that ugly grin on his face.
Alex Rider now had a new enemy. A new mission. And he intended to see this through to the end.