Bubba: I started writing this a long time ago and have been working on it on and off... Because someone asked how Overlord and Lloyd met in my fanfics, so... Have the Darkest Love. It won't update often, sorry. My school laptop is gone.

Part 1

In the name of the first Spinjitzu Master, what happened? He thought to himself when he regained consciousness. His whole body was numb and cold. His vision was extremely blurry, and he couldn't really think straight. He managed to rub his eyes. He blinked a few times and things became clearer. He couldn't lift his head, but he could see just a bit of his surroundings. Rocks, thistles, and more dark rock... He was on the Dark Island! But where on it, he couldn't tell. He tried to push himself up, but he had no strength in him at all. Just the simple act of rubbing his eyes had returned his body to its unmoving state. He felt extremely tired and his eyes closed. Returning to unconsciousness, not a thought crossed his muddled mind.

When he woke up again, feeling was returning to his body. This wasn't good at all. His whole body hurt, and with every passing second, the pain got worse and worse. He couldn't even remember the last time he had ever felt pain. For the most of his life, he had been alone, but safe on his small island. Somehow he had been flipped over onto his back. Could he have done it in his sleep? Perhaps a bit of strength had returned to him.

The pain was indescribable. Every cell in his body was in so much pain. It was like he was being destroyed from every angle, inside and out, yet you couldn't see it. He still couldn't move, except for his jaw, it seemed. He gritted his teeth, but the small action did nothing. It only got worse and worse. Oh, why couldn't he just fall back into his cold slumber? He couldn't even scream. There was no way to signal for help. Besides, who would help him anyways? One of his 'children' maybe, but they were no longer under his control, he knew that for sure, plus they were all on Ninjago. Trying to remember was impossible. Who could think with all this pain? Was this how that silly little overlord wannabe felt?

Wait, what?

What had happened to him? What were all these weird little two second memories? A man with red eyes? That man screaming? His favorite 'child' being shot or something along those lines? A button and the sound of a cannon? The view of a city at night, or was it even night? And the strangest one, the memory that hurt the most, the one that was the hardest to understand; a blonde boy in gold, riding a golden dragon towards him… Who was the boy? That dragon… it seemed so familiar… Another memory appeared.

I am the Ultimate Spinjitzu Master!

The boy had shouted at him, surrounded by a warm yet harsh golden light.

A scream finally managed its way from his throat. He couldn't recognize the horrifying sound emitting from deep within him. It wasn't just from pain. He was sure there were anger, despair, loss, and desire in that scream. Much like the scream of a defeated animal. The desire… What was that for? To find the boy? For revenge on something he couldn't remember? Something else? A mixture of many things he wanted so badly, so badly that it was the reason for all this pain?

It all hurt too much…

When the scream finished, he dropped into the dark pits of unconsciousness. The pain turned into cold. It turned into cold that froze his mind and soul… Did he even have a soul? He didn't know anymore… He would get his memories back, he was sure of it, and his dream-self seemed to be searching desperately for them.

It would be days until he would awaken again. Days that turned into weeks as he watched his memories. The flashbacks passed by him so fast, speeding before his eyes, wanting him to remember the reason for all his hatred, his pain, his despair, his vanity, the very reason why he was darkness to his core. Hundreds of thousands of years' worth of memories, the thousands of years he spent alone, planning revenge, planning revenge against the being that cursed him, that caused him to be born. He also came across another, his brother, he remembered, the Golden Dragon, the deity of Light.

Wherever there is light, there must be darkness. It was a fact, a fact that cannot be undone no matter how hard one tries. He could not be eliminated. That was a fact. The most recent memories were ones that left him shocked. His 'children' gone, gone under the control of a pathetic and weak mortal. All his planning, his thousands of years of planning… gone… gone within days, defeated by a boy in green.

It wasn't fair

It wasn't fair that he never got a single victory

It wasn't fair at all. He never got a chance to grow up, never a chance to learn, never a chance to try to connect. He was always hated, hated for being him. He was never given a name, only a title that would never come true. No one tried to befriend him, so he had to create his own 'friends', his own 'family.' But they weren't good enough. Sure they couldn't die, they couldn't be harmed, but they had no minds of their own, no ability to love or to care. He was just their controller, a puppet master, not a father or friend. He was just the entity that was never to be named, the creature that was never to be remembered, the bane of existence, the opposite of good. Why did he exist? What was his purpose? He was not wanted, so why did he have to be created? He never wanted to be created. He could have been a normal child, a member of a family that loved him, a friend to other children, a being with a purpose and true life. But no, he was a horrible thing that was never meant to exist at all, but had to because everything needs balance.

Where was balance in this? Sure he existed, but he was weaker, he never won, he was only hated, never liked as much. There was no balance in that! Were his thoughts and feelings supposed to be nonexistent? Was that supposed to be fair? Would everything have been better if he was just a nonliving puppet? Something that could have just been there without being there?

After the final memory, the memory of hitting the ground and being engulfed in darkness, he woke up.

It still hurt, but not to the terrible point that it did before. He pushed himself into a sitting position, groaning. He tried to move his legs, but they wouldn't budge. Had he forgotten how to use them? When was the last time he had had these legs? He hadn't used this form, this weak little form, in centuries, in millennia even. He had been stuck as a pulsing ball of gas for thousands of years. He sighed. It seemed like he wasn't going to get far like this. He thought that at least he should have been able to feel his legs, even if he couldn't remember how to use them. He must have been paralyzed, hopefully temporarily. Maybe he would be able to use them after getting used to this form. He dragged himself along. When he came across a puddle, he stared at it, taking in the features of this form. Somehow he had clothes, which would have been awkward if he didn't. The clothes were soaked and dirty however. His eyes looked like the glowing matter he had created. His hair was purple, and went just past his chin. It was a bit spiky, giving him the appearance of two small devil horns because of it. His skin was grey; pale though from all that time in sleep, like the zombies he had made people into during that final battle.

Come to think of it, the final battle wasn't actually a final battle. It just kept happening over and over again, which wasn't fair. If his life was just so he could be beaten every time he thought of a good plan, what was the point of even being awake? He wanted to go back into sleep, to never wake up, to never dream even. Staring at his pitiful face made him feel worse. He looked so helpless! He felt so helpless! Dragging himself around like a ragdoll, it just wasn't right!

Right… he was supposed to be 'wrong' and he was tempted to stick his face in the puddle and drown in it, but that wouldn't work of course. He would be come right back, unable to die. Which wasn't fair at all. Why did everything but he have to die? Even the First Spinjitzu Master died! Why did that horrid old man get to die and not him!? Why was nothing fair…? These thoughts… these thoughts were so awful… The only thing the dark entity could do was watch as tears dropped into the puddle because of these thoughts. The sound of the tears splashing into the puddle was the only thing that reached his cold ears.

Plip, plip, plop, plip, drip, drop…