There was a plan.
There was a plan, or there used to be a plan. A plan to turn the Elemental Masters against the Serpentine, a plan to let the strongest rule. There had been a time where the plan was constructed, oh-so meticulously, and carefully, for years. Slowly brewing in a pot, it ripened day by day, and strengthened with the growing discontent between the snakes and the humans. It was injected subtlety, slowly, into the very folds of the conflict until it burst - exploded out of control - into a full fledged war. Nobody knew who made the first move, as different sides told different stories, but soon, the war grew as more allies were recruited on either side of the battle.
The masterminds of the plan, the Anacondrai fanatic whose monastery walls were adorned with the very pictures and relics of different Anacondrai items, and the dark-haired, mysterious man with fists glowing purple and always silent pupil, facilitated the whole war without anybody knowing. The two plotted, schemed, and controlled both sides of the story as if they were puppets, making them dance to their tune by feeding each side with stories they wanted to hear, lies they so desperately believed were true.
"Oh, the Serpentine Generals have decided on signing the treaty?" They had told the Masters. "Did you know? The Elementals think that the Serpentine could never be on par with them, because snakes can never beat humans! Are you are you do not want to prove them wrong?" They had sung so sweetly to the leading general of the Anacondrai Tribe, General Arcturus. Story after story was fabricated, and falsity after falsity was embroidered. The War lasted years, with neither side gaining an upper hand thanks to the two.
Neutrality had been their key. They had been spectators, the very viewers of the pandemonium and chaos that they created. They had alternated, and even pretended, to be part of each side, but in the end, acting would always be acting, and they thrived from the hate and desperation foraged through the conflict.
Who are they? One might ask. Who are the two people behind this piece of destruction? You already know them - they come in the names of Master and Pupil, Chen and Clouse.
They had been alone for years.
Nobody knew what happened to their mother, who had, one day, gone to the marketplace and never returned. Nobody knew about their father either, the man they had never known, a former elemental master himself. They only had a mother, mysteriously and silently disintegrating into ash in their memory, with only sweet whispers of ghostly touches and fantastically warm embraces for them to truly remember they once had a mother, a strong, competent fighter who was also at once a gentle, caring presence for both boys.
They had relied on each other since that fateful day onwards, with only each other to remind them of who they truly are. The connection holding them so firmly together, and the sibling bond they share so deeply with each other could not be taken away even with the most painful lashes of the cane, or the sharpest and most hurtful of the words ever uttered to them by the foreign entity known as their 'mother'. It was through pain, that they held on to each other tightly, and on that one moonless, but cloudless night, they made the promise to never let each other go, even in the most dire circumstances.
They were like the very machines the younger had always loved. Their power manifested slowly, but surely. One small burst, one larger one, and a few incidents happened before the two finally learnt to hone their power. They remember hearing from their mother so long ago, her encouraging words to never quit nor give up, and her whispers that they would be special. Amidst the kicks and the punches, they held onto her words of encouragement so dearly, and slowly, they learnt how to fight back, how to defend themselves. They would sneak out in the darkest times of the night, just to watch and take lessons from the same blond man who always sparred with that another brunette man, somewhere near the edges of the jungle and learning the moves themselves. The younger took great pride in learning them, and soon all his fears, insecurities about being pushed around by other bigger people dissipated away as he gradually became as good a fighter as his birth mother once had.
The older, while not as interested and not as competent in fighting, had however made up in his intellect. He was, as stated by his brother so proudly, a great strategist, with actions that made people go after the most trivial things and run complicated circles, and motives which were, ultimately, kept out of reach until time to be made known. They thank the elder's efforts, which helped them get away from the looming presence they had called their 'guardian' for eleven years of their lives.
They had been alone, with nothing but their power, each other, and themselves to survive. Who are they, you wonder again. But surely that's redundant, for you already know them. Their enemies and allies know them as the Hands of Time. We, know them as Krux and Acronix.
The plan was crumbling, as how a mountain would when faced with an earthquake. Or, in this case, as how a Serpent would when faced with the enchanting music from the Sacred Flute. The fluid yet haunting melody pierced their very eardrums, forcing them to choose a side. There was the months of total panic as they rushed to save whatever they can save in order to salvage their art. The very thing that had defined their lives up until that moment. They chose the side of brutality. Of strength. The very pawns that had first used to ignite the fire that burnt the fragile peace between man and snake, the very puppets that they had played with. But they had no choice, and desperation aids hasty decisions.
They did everything to shatter the Alliance. To save their life work. They turned one strong one against the Alliance, they sent spies to steal and destroy the Sacred Flutes. They were desperate, hopelessly trying to turn the tide in their favour, finding anything to help them, to defeat the other party. They had swooped in too late, and by then the fabric had slowly started to be repaired. They could only watch, in desperation, in despair, as their very life work was ripped apart in their very eyes.
Chen and Clouse did not lose hope. They spent all their nightly hours thinking up possible strategies, any possible cracks within the Alliance that could be turned to their advantage. The candles burned down, bit by bit, and as time wore on, so did their will, no matter how slowly, how hesitantly and how much they hated to admit it. And as nights wore on and their internal gears slowly started to stop, they had it. The idea that they should have thought of before the whole mess started.
They turned the Master of Earth against Elemental Alliance because they thought nothing was stronger than the very substance giving them ground to stand upon.
But what was stronger than the solidity of Earth?
What was the thread that sows the very fabrics of the universe itself?
Who were the people who so desperately wanted to prove themselves?
Master and Pupil shared smiles. They might not have won this war, but they would make sure it never ended. They would make sure that someone would carry on this war, and that nobody would ever forget it. Based on Clouse's calculations the camp would be swarmed in two days if the Alliance kept up the speed at which they were headed towards them.
They would lose, but not before doing the one last attempt of breaking the Alliance apart.
The Hands of Time.
They had such a glorious name, something that may instantly strike foreboding within the hearts of their enemies. They were fluid, anticipating each other's next move and worked together. Just like the hands on a clock.
But they were still human.
Being accepted into the Alliance, a place where none of them would be shunned, was something akin to a haven for them, after so many long years of hiding. The very man who trained them, and his brother, who personally told them and encouraged them to join the cause to prevent the Serpents from terrorising the citizens. They thought they had finally found it — a perfect opportunity for them to prove themselves, to showcase their skillset and abilities. Hands intertwined in acceptance, a firm shake, and they had become part of the noble cause that would be passed down as stories from elder to young in the near future.
They had thought so.
Reality was like the water the Master of Water controlled itself. A cold but shocking splash, straight to the face. Within the Alliance, only four got to call the shots. The Master of Creation. Of Destruction. Of Water. And Fire. Whenever a plan materialises, it would be either one of the four. Never the rest. They had thought it would be an ambiguous decision. They had thought everyone could have a voice.
But they were the only ones who had an active voice amongst the passives. The rest were just happy to follow.
How? They did not know. Why? They did not know either. So many times, the elder tried telling them that there was a small loophole in their strategy. So many times he was respectfully yet firmly declined. Let the Sons of the First Spinjitzu Masters call the shots, the other masters had told them when they complained. Be happy to just follow.
But they weren't. They joined the cause to prove their element and abilities. They had not expected conformity, nor did they expect the passiveness. They knew, from so many won and lost battles, that the a few losses could have been prevented, and a few wins were granted by Lady Luck herself.
But yet they stayed silent. Just happy you're part of the cause, others told them. They tried. But they were only identified for their control over time itself, and the younger for his fighting skills maybe. What happened to their voice? What happened to trying to prove themselves, you might again wonder. It was quelled, like a beats yearning for attention licked in a deepstone cage and being told to stay there. They stayed on, winning and losing battles, and kept to themselves.
They might have made a friend within the Master of Shadows, who had, at a point, wanted to tell the unofficial leaders that they could buy themselves time by ignoring a smaller, more trivial base, but ultimately ignored.
But she was as silent as the shadow, and, like them, kept to herself. So they let it be.
The night before they were supposed to take down the final base of the Serpentine, they snuck out of camp, for a quiet walk. Just a quick walk, to clear their minds for the upcoming battle. What would happens after it was over, others asked them. Frankly, they had no idea. But they would work that out after the battle was over.
Neither did Krux nor Acronix know, this would be their final walk in tranquility and peace.
Chen and Clouse his behind the bushes, waiting for the two twins to walk by. Via his pupil's prediction beforehand, they had selected the path which the twins' would be walking on. And then, they waited.
This was their last ditch attempt at prolonging the war. Sure, the Serpentine has failed, but the war would be far from over. Chen knew that he would personally see to it, and cannot wait to see what happened when his plan came to fruition.
"Master, they are approaching."
Chen nodded at his pupil's speech, and silently slid out of the bush they were hiding in, making sure to stick by the shadows to conceal his movements. Sure enough, he saw two silhouettes of two figures walking slowly in the duo's direction. Soon, in another one hundred steps, ninety nine..eight...
Chen rehearsed over his words again. He knew enough from the Twins from previous battles to know which buttons to push. He knew their desires and their wants. He knew, from sent spies, that they thought they deserved a day in the Alliance, and that they thought they controlled a 'cool' element. He knew their weaknesses, and their caving points. All he had to do now, was to make them lay it bare, on the front of their minds, so that Clouse could reach out with his magic and alter it to take a darker turn. The plan was, simply put, perfect.
"Hi!"
The master greeted the Time elementals cheerfully. Their reactions were amusing, to say, with the younger twin pulling out a dagger from seemingly nowhere, and the older unsheathing his katana. Their eyes narrowed at their enemy.
"Chen." The younger twin (was his name Acronix? Acronym? Something like that?). "Wanna give us so soon?" His girl tightened on his dagger and was casually spinning it.
"What do you want, Chen?" The older - Krux - demanded, stance never wavering. "Last I heard you should be preparing to lose."
"Ah, yes," he sighed regretfully. "Unfortunately this battle had not...turned in our favour...as per se. But I am not here to attack you!" Chen quickly raised his hands in defence when Acronix made to lunge for him. Maybe coming here weaponless was not such a good idea after all...
"You do know that's not gonna work right?" Acronix (or was it Acronis?) smirked. "We're not far from camp - we could just send a signal and you'll be defeated in a blink of the eye."
His brother stopped his advances, a subtle hand to the shoulder. But without losing his cool the elder brother asked with an undercurrent of curiosity. "If you're not here to attack us," he began. "What do you seek? And do not try to lie - help for us is very close, but defeat for you is very imminent as well."
The opening Chen always ended had presented himself. Without hesitation he jumped straight into it. "Oh, I didn't know that!" He exclaimed, a hand slapping his forehead. "But I guess when the whole camp is celebrating the imminent victory they would all come and capture me." There was a slight pause, and he continued, delivering each word with a meaning. "I just...it'll be capturing me right?" He questioned innocently. "I guess it's nothing to do with the fact that you found me. Let me guess, they don't give much credit to you two, no?"
Krux reeled back like he had just been slapped, but made no reply. Chen could see Acronix faltering just a little bit as well. "You don't know anything," the younger twin countered, although his voice now held an uncertainty not present before. His grip on his dagger loosened just a little, and Chen knew he was succeeding.
"My, I'm so sorry!" He apologised half heartedly. "I guess that's a sore spot...heh..." the master shrugged lightly and leaned against a tree. "I guess we all know how it feels like, to be told that we couldn't do more, that we couldn't reach out to more people. I was always told that I would be nothing more than a Master! I can only imagine what it would be for you!" He paused to see both twins glaring at him murderously, but not making any move to stop him.
Chen opened his mouth to continue, but Acronix interjected, without the heat that once resides in his voice. "Okay, we get it. You don't want to be caught right now. I guess we will just...leave you be..."
The master ignored his comment, and sighed. "I understand. But surely it hurts to be shot down? Over and over again? I know you wanted to prove yourselves when you joined this alliance. But have you?"
Neither replied.
"And you could make it happen! You control Time. You control the very thing that allows this universe to move forward. You deserve it!" He could see the uncertainty flicking through their faces. "How does it feel? To control the strongest element, yet being bossed around by weaker ones? Don't you feel anger? A sense to right the wrong done? A desire to rule?" The red-haired man persisted, hitting all the buttons that he knew hit home for the twins. "You wanted to prove yourself!" Chen borderline shouted urgently. "And you know you can make it happen! Why conform when you could be your own voice?"
A slight purple hue, and Chen knew Clouse had done it. The spell was complete. Both twins blinked at each other, shell-shocked at what had just transpired. But Chen has already disappeared, leaving with Clouse to prepare for their ultimate defeat the next day. But they knew that it didn't matter anymore.
They might have lost, but the battle had not been won yet.
They wanted to retort, but they can't. They wanted to shut the opposing Master up.
But the words uttered by Chen...were unnervingly true. That was what defined their four years in the Alliance, wasn't it? They wanted to be heard. They wanted to prove that they were stronger than what they let on. But day after day, being dismissed, had made them more hurt than they actually let on. Do they actually feel it? Do they feel the unjust?
Did they like the Alliance at all?
They controlled time, they should be able to make others respect them! They controlled the very thing bringing the universe forward.
Shouldn't it mean that they control everything, if they use it right?
Shouldn't it mean that they could control the 'Elemental Masters' as well? Shouldn't it mean that they could, if they wanted, control the Sons of the First spinjitzu Master of they wanted to?
At that moment it was as if a veil was lifted from their eyes. They blinked rapidly, not knowing what happened that granted them sudden clarity. But they knew that it was true. Whatever Chen has said finally made sense. Krux and Acronix, the Hands of Time, glanced around the clearing, trying to find Chen and thank him, but he was nowhere to be found.
No matter. They knew a time would come when they made sure the masters knew who they were. A time would come, when they show the world who they truly are, and how they truly should be.
And no one, not the Alliance, not Wu, not Garmadon, would ever come in their way. Because they knew, if they controlled time, they controlled everything.
