r . a . d . i . o . s . i . l . e . n . c . e
Sandy gray-blue soil, sprouting with crystalline indigo rocks, surrounded him on all sides. The rocks were so tall they almost seemed to touch the artificial aurora of ice fragments above him.
His home – their home – stood sentinel in the sky, shining with reflected light.
It was so beautiful, he thought. If only the yellow-green insects were gone; he'd have a much better view.
But he couldn't change that. It was too late. They were eating him alive.
They were eating the others, too, but they were already dead.
They had eaten his voice. Soon, the creatures would eat his vision, too. He wouldn't be able to see the stars anymore; he would only be able to feel as he would cease to exist.
He couldn't die. Not yet. He hadn't even told the others, those currently waiting for news back home, listening to static and radio silence.
Radio silence.
He couldn't speak anymore. The creatures made sure of that. But maybe…
He began to send a message.
Agonizing minutes turned to agonizing hours. They sat in front of the equipment, their only link to their friends – and family – lost in space.
All was silent except for the hum of the radio, filling the room with barely-audible white noise.
Nya glanced at the other three. Wu was sitting on the floor several feet away from her, and appeared to be meditating; next to him, Garmadon was holding his head in his hands, his fingers digging through his thick gray hair.
Pixal was sitting within a few feet of the machines. She twisted one of the dials all the way to the right and back to the left again before dropping her hand to the table. Nya stood up and walked over to her.
"Any luck?" she asked. She hoped that her suspicions weren't correct.
Pixal shook her head. "There is nothing detectable besides background radiation."
Nya nodded silently. She had expected it. For whatever reason, the others had been completely silent.
"There's still a chance that… that they'll be okay…?"
Nya turned at the voice. Garmadon stood up while wiping one of his hands on his sleeve. His eyes were red.
"There's still a chance…?" he asked Pixal, staring right at her.
"I don't know," Pixal told him.
… bip bip. …
Pixal froze. Wu opened his eyes. Garmadon and Nya snapped their heads back to look at the radio.
… bip beep. beep beep. …
Wu stood up as everyone began to crowd around the radio.
… bip bip bip. beep beep beep. bip beep bip. bip beep bip. beep bip beep beep. bip beep bip beep bip beep. …
Nya finally realized what it was. She herself had used this code before, back when her Samurai X persona was in full swing. If only she could remember how to translate it… "I need some paper," she said, trying to memorize the sequence as more of it kept coming.
Garmadon began to search the room for paper, eventually finding a few sheets and a pen. He brought them back over to Nya, who started to write down what she could remember of the sequence.
"Morse code," Pixal whispered hesitantly, correctly identifying the noises. Nya looked up from the paper to glance at her. Wide green eyes stared off into space.
She looked terrified.
"Who is it? What are they saying?" Wu asked, clearly sensing that something was very wrong.
Pixal didn't answer, turning her gaze to the radio. She mumbled something that only Nya heard.
"What is it?" she asked her.
Pixal turned to her and stared at her with a blank expression, eyes wide.
"It's Zane," she finally said quietly. "We're too late."
Wu was the first to reply. "What do you-"
The beeps were interrupted as impossibly loud static suddenly burst from the radio. When the static disappeared, so had the code.
"We're too late."
Garmadon began breathing heavily. "You… you mean… but… they can't be… they can't be…" He sobbed. "They can't be dead!"
"He said," Pixal informed the group in monotone, "that they suffocated. He said that they were… lucky to die before…"
She trailed off. The room was left in silence.
"…What do we do now?" Nya asked.
"Isn't it obvious?" Garmadon said darkly. "We get revenge."
The creatures finally cut off his signal. He didn't know if they had gotten his message.
He would never know.
He stared up, past the crystalline rocks, past the aurora of ice, up at the marble-like blue orb. He stared at it until one eye flickered out, and then the other, and even then, he still kept the image in his mind. It was his last comfort in the darkness.
He didn't know what would happen now.
He hoped that his friends could prevent the Overlord from taking over the world. They were strong. They could be strong. They would be strong.
They would finish what he could not. They would finish what all of them could not.
He was tired.
He would drift off into nothingness any minute now. The creatures would eat the last remaining scraps of him and then he'd be gone forever.
In some nonphysical sense, he felt a hand on his shoulder.
He looked back at the lined face of an old man, the only person he had ever considered true family. He was smiling sadly, like he was both overjoyed and infinitely sorrowful that he was with him now.
"Are you ready?" the old man asked.
"I don't know," he answered.
"Let's go," the old man said, still smiling.
The two of them walked into the abyss.
(A/N): After watching that dark ending for Episode 33, I felt inspired to write this. Because why not, you know? It's not often that canon sets you up for this kind of thing.