Now that I think about it, "we don't want to starve so we're gluing leaves back onto the plants" probably counts as dark humor. That answers the humor vs. angst question. :P

Happy New Year, and a big thank you to everyone who's reviewed so far!


"I can't believe how many times I complained about being hot!" groaned Arkade, from behind his mask.

"I can't believe how many times I've heard someone say they can't believe how many times they complained about being hot," quipped Jet Jack, although she was shivering herself.

Arkade looked at her blankly, processing that sentence. She waved him off, chuckling.

"Doesn't matter. Whoops!"

She reached out to steady one of the children, who was stumbling by with an over-ambitious load of buckets.

"Fenko, even the adults only carry two," she said amusedly. "Downgrade a little. Here, I'll help."

Fenko reluctantly surrendered one of the buckets, and Jet Jack hopped off the ground with her jetpack and whisked off towards the village. It wasn't necessarily the most economical way to carry a bucket full of light grain. Down below Faith started and looked up as wheat showered from the sky.

"Jet Jack!" she shouted. Her second-in-command was out of earshot. When she got back, Faith gave her a stern look.

"We can't afford to spill grain everywhere."

"Oh, we're going over the field again with a rake anyway," said Jet Jack carelessly. "I'll be careful after that."

Faith wanted to say something about having to gather twice for one handful of grain, but she knew from experience that it wouldn't be heard. Sometimes she wondered if that visor covered more than Jet Jack's eyes.

Meanwhile, Muzzle had discovered a difficulty. He had stopped gathering wheat and was going around in circles, swatting his hands in front of his face.

"What are you doing?" Daddy No-Legs looked over, amused. "The bugs disappeared ages ago."

Muzzle paused and flapped his arms frantically. Daddy No-Leg's eyes widened when he saw the streamers of mist curling through the slits on Muzzle's mask.

"Are you on fire?!" He lurched over to see where the smoke was coming from. "How did you manage that? Put it out!"

Muzzle only gave a screech, pointing to No-Leg's face. The other Hunter looked bewildered, then realized puffs of smoke seemed to be spurting from his own mouth as he talked.

"WHAT'S HAPPENING?"

A decent panic began to spread, as Hunters realized one by one that they were also breathing out smoke.

"Is everyone all right? What's going on? Smoke, who's breathing smoke?!" Faith tried to sort out the source of the panic. It only took her a moment to find that it was happening to her as well. Jet Jack too. Several of the Hunters were covering their mouths, as if their souls might leap out their throats next. Her heartrate shot up, unbidden. This couldn't be good. Were they all sick? Had the cold damaged them somehow? Were their insides turning to ash? How was she supposed to fix this?

"Everyone calm down!" Old Redskull waved from a few rows over, shouting above the anxious chatter. "Stop it, all of you. I remember this now, it happens whenever it gets cold. It's perfectly harmless."

"Breathing smoke is harmless?" said Jet Jack, from behind her hands.

"I don't know if it's smoke, it has no scent." Redskull shrugged. "But yes, of course it's harmless. We all survived winters back when I was a boy, didn't we?"

Some murmuring as the Hunters digested this logic. Gradually everyone began to calm down. Hands came away from mouths, and some Hunters began to gingerly, experimentally blow out long streamers of mist, watching it with fascination.

"We're not going to breathe fire next, are we?" said No-Legs.

"'fraid not," said Redskull wryly.

"That's a pity," sighed No-Legs. "Think how warm that would be!" He looked to Muzzle. "Hey! You think we could invent something to help us breathe fire?"

"Please, no!" called Faith, scooping up a sheaf of wheat. "I don't know about you, but I like our village unburned."

"We wouldn't set the village on fire!" said No-Legs indignantly.

"Like you promised you wouldn't flood the throne room when you tried to collect rainwater?" retorted Faith. "Besides. You would burn your mouth. Humans weren't meant to breathe fire."

"You seem to manage it all right, whenever Chew Toy leaves the gates open," said Jet Jack cheekily.

Faith groaned. Leave it to Jet Jack. Back when the Hunters had agreed to make Faith the leader, they had all collaborated on a cautionary list of Top Ten Things Everyone Hated About Iron Baron. Obviously #1 was "murdering his own people and blaming the Oni," but #2 was "never cared about anyone" and #3 was "yelled at people all the time." So Faith always tried to do the opposite herselfshe made sure to treat her people fairly, to listen to their concerns and never shoot them down. She did expect her orders to be obeyed, but she tried not to be too harsh about demanding respect.

Which proved to be a hassle, when it came to Jet Jack. Jet Jack was an excellent second-in-command, loyal and honest and full of bright ideasbuuuuut now that disrespect was no longer harshly punished, it turned out she had about twenty-seven years' worth of suppressed sassiness just waiting to gush out. And that was impressive, because Jet Jack was twenty-one.

"I'm gonna breathe fire!" Fenko was shouting, meanwhile. "I'm a dragon! RAWR!"

The other kids fled before him, shrieking.


Firstbourne emerged from the interdimensional tunnel about a mile away from Ninjago City. She arced into a hover, peering towards the skyscrapers. Everything seemed to be at peace . . . Heck, the city was still standing. That was a good start.

She flapped towards the towers of glass and steel, trusting her senses to guide her to Wu. She could feel him somewhere around here; that was a good sign too.

As she flew over the city, people in the streets started and looked up, pointing and exclaiming. Traffic got a little snarled. There was no panic, thougheveryone remembered her from the fight against Garmadon.

Drifting lazily around skyscrapers, Firstbourne took the opportunity to spy on people's moral characters a bit. Wu wasn't just being poetic when he said Firstbourne could see into hearts. Like all dragons, she had a natural ability to sense goodness or lack thereof. It wasn't really seeing, it was more like . . . synesthesia, sort of. Feeling colors. If she looked at a person and paid attention, she didn't see a colorful heart-glow coming off them, but she kind of felt one.

And when she first visited Ninjago, she had been startled. The only humans she had seen before were Dragon Hunters and Wu's crew. She had assumed the "look" of their souls was just standard for humans. But here in Ninjago, it seemed like the ninja were actually the only ones who looked that way . . .

Perching on the edge of a building, Firstbourne zeroed in on this or that pedestrian. Yep, just like she remembered. Very mottled hearts all around. They glowed in all kinds of colors, some beautiful, some ugly. Usually a person had a mix of both. Some had a few cracks or fragments or dark patches. Some had dim, dirty streaks swirling in them. Firstbourne growled softly in her throat. Dragon Hunter colors. That one fellow on the corner had a heart the color of mud, sickly grey, way too much like Iron Baron's. She resisted the urge to eat him.

Oh, there in that alleyway. A teenager, with worrisome dull streaks already, butaside from that, that was a little like the ninjas' . . . Firstbourne squinted, trying to figure out what connected the ninja, the Dragon Hunters, and this particular person over here.

Then she got distracted by a familiar sunny glow. Her head snapped up, and she gave a roar of greeting for one of her two favorite humans.

Wu dropped one of his grocery bags, and nearly lost his hat with how fast he looked up. He broke into a smile when he saw Firstbourne, gingerly slithering down into the street to greet him. Traffic really took a hit.

"Hello, old friend," murmured the old man, setting down his bags to stroke Firstbourne's nose. "Is everything all right?"

She rumbled softly, reassuring him that she hadn't come for an emergency. His heart had a beautiful soft-yellow glow, just like she remembered. Granted, there were two somewhat dirty streaks by the edges, but only two. And just like she remembered, his heart had that bizarre rare pattern she couldn't understand. It was like a stained-glass window: thousands of little fragments.

Presently a shrill honking came from beside her tail as a driver grew impatient. Firstbourne snapped her head around and gave an annoyed snarl, while Wu hastened to pat her neck soothingly.

"Perhaps we should go to visit my ninja?" he said. "They'd be happy to see you, and it's a little more peaceful where they are."

Firstbourne huffed in assent and lowered her head to let him climb on.


PIXAL and Zane were a little awkward. The sign outside the "workshop" arena clearly said Santa would be seeing visitors at 10, and here it was 10:45 and still no Santa. Families kept wandering up to the entrance and looking around, wondering if Santa was hiding under a Christmas tree somewhere.

"Do we have the wrong day?" said one mother.

"No, uh—it's—we—" PIXAL stuttered, at a loss.

"Is he not coming?" piped a little girl, her eyes sad. "Did his house get smashed too?"

"He's just a little late," cut in Zane glibly. "He had to inspect an important batch of presents. But don't worry, he's eager to see you once he gets here!"

The little girl brightened. As her family left, she pointed back to the workshop and called out to some passing children, "Santa's inspeckin' our presents!"

Meanwhile PIXAL was the most horrified elf on this side of the equator.

"That was a lie," she said, her voice heavy with accusation.

Zane opened his mouth to explain, but a shout rang out from farther down the mall.

"You guys! You guys! Firstbourne's here!"

The ninja all came hurrying out to meet the dragon queen.

"Is everything okay? What's happening? Is the First Realm in trouble?"

"Everything's all right!" called Wu, sliding from Firstbourne's back. "She's just here for a visit. She found me while I was out getting groceries."

"Oh, so that's where you were?" said Cole. "We were starting to think you were the mall Santa nobody's been able to find."

Wu swatted his staff at him amusedly. Admittedly Cole got away with murder a little bit, these days. He'd become just a bit of a Sensei's pet—hardly surprising, when you thought about it. He'd earned the right.

Firstbourne studied the ninja intently, meanwhile. They were as much a kaleidoscope of heart colors as ever. All in little fragments as usual—sometimes flashing seperately like facets on a diamond, sometimes together like pieces of a whole. Lloyd's was ground so fine it looked like it was made of grains of sand. Strange state of affairs.

They all fussed over Firstbourne for a while, showing her the decorations and offering her tidbits of Christmas food. For the most part she sniffed at it politely, but the plum-pudding caught her attention. It had just the right combination of scents to enchant a dragon, and it vaguely reminded her of some dishes she'd tried long ago, in her hazy memories of being a young dragon. After inhaling greedily a few times, she abruptly lunged forward and attacked the plum-pudding so savagely that Jay squeaked and dropped the plate. She absorbed it before it could even reach the floor, smacking her lips and crunching hungrily at whole cloves.

"I guess she likes that," said Cole, looking with a sigh at his rejected fruitcake. "Oh well, more of this for me, I guess."

Firstbourne licked her chops and inspected the plate, checking if she'd missed any bits of dried fruit. A bit unprofessional of her, she supposed, but hey—she was allowed to have one weakness.

For a while she lounged in the parking lot with her tail wrapped around herself, taking in the chatter. She had to admit, watching these people's hearts as they interacted was . . . pleasant. You could have said warm-fuzzy, only she was an almighty millenium-old fearsome beast and frickin' Queen of Everything, she did not get the warm-fuzzies. Excuse you.

But they were so nice to watch. They glowed so many bright colors, in synchronized waves and dreamy swirls. Whenever they interacted, new colors would weave in among the otherslittle ripples, spirals, starbursts, always brighter than before. There was Cole teasing Kai about something, streamers of aquamarine whipping through his pastel orange background. Unsurprisingly Kai was showing some redbut it wasn't the searing, frothing sheets of red Firstbourne was used to seeing, when Dragon Hunters came at her head with swords. Just gentle little flecks, popping like bubbles against waves of teal and green. Then Cole must've pushed it too far, because a real shower of red sparks shot across Kai's soulsynchronized with a growl and a warning look in Kai himselfand Cole held up his hands and said "okay, okay!", the aquamarine instantly morphing into green and blue. Kai's red sparks coalesced into a firework, flashed, and faded, melting into a similar soft green.

All of this pretty dramatic, for something Firstbourne couldn't actually see with her eyes. She almost had to wonder if the ninja could see into hearts as wellthey seemed to have such a good sense of each others' color schemes.

Especially those two mated pairs, the metallic duo and ponytail-girl-plus-fluffy-boy. They influenced each other's colors like they weren't even separate entities. Burst of green in Zane, ripples carried right over into PIXAL without even slowing down. Mushy as all get out.

Still, as much as she enjoyed their company, she felt strangely restless. It wasn't their fault, but the traces of Oni blood in Wu and Lloyd still made her a little antsy. The effect seemed stronger than usual today . . . Hmm. Maybe she was just irritable due to all the noise everyone was making. It's not like there would be any pure-blood Oni in the area, right? They would definitely have noticed that. Ugh, her senses must be getting screwy with age . . .

Eventually her restlessness won out. She made sure there wasn't any more plum-pudding forthcoming, nuzzled Wu and Lloyd affectionately, and took her leave. The ninja waved till she was out of sight, reluctant to go inside and get back to work.

"Awww man, we forgot to tell her to snuggle Zane," said Cole. "Now she won't know he's fuzzy!"

"I suppose she can live without that knowledge," said Zane drily, straightening his antlers.

"But think how she's missing out!" Jay huggled the Nindroid melodramatically, knocking his antlers askew again. "So soft . . . So fuzzy . . . "

"It's just chenille," said Zane, by now a bit salty. "It's really no more fuzzy than a sweater."

"Shhhhh, Zane! Don't ruin the magic!" scolded Cole, in mock horror.

Lloyd chuckled, but stepped in to break up the brewing squabble.

"C'mon, you guys. We still have a lot of work to do. Nya, want to switch patrol sectors? Uncle Wu, need a hand getting home with those groceries?"

With some sighing and dragging of feet, the ninja got back to work. As PIXAL and Zane returned to Santa's workshop, the former dredged up some old grievances.

"Zane, why were you lying to that child?"

"I wasn't lying," said Zane soothingly. "I mean . . . I guess I was, but . . . it's different."

"What is different, and how?" said PIXAL reproachfully. Zane blew out a breath, smiling a little. So, they were having their first fight. That was all right, though, he was sure he could explain.

First, however, they arrived at Santa's "workshop"—and found Santa already there.

"Oh!" said Zane. "We're so sorry we weren't here! We were called away to see a friend."

Santa only grunted indistinctly, twitching his beard, and hunched over in his chair. PIXAL and Zane exchanged guilty looks, but didn't let it tear them up too much—after all, the guy was over an hour late himself.

"I hope he's not that out-of-sorts with the children . . . " whispered Zane, as they clambered over the fence and hastily took their places in the workshop.

"Perhaps he just feels guilty for being late," PIXAL whispered back. "Now. What is different, and how?"

She still sounded pretty miffed. Zane tilted his head, concerned.

"PIXAL, I didn't know this would bother you so much. Why did you volunteer for this role if you don't believe in deceiving children?"

PIXAL's eyes widened in horror.

"They think I'm a real elf?!"

"Of course," said Zane. "You didn't know?"

"And they think that man is the real Santa?!" demanded PIXAL, pointing.

"Shush, he'll hear you!" sputtered Zane, looking anxiously over his shoulder. "But yes, of course they do."

PIXAL folded her arms, disbelieving.

"There is no way on earth they would believe you are a real reindeer."

Zane blinked, then chuckled ruefully.

"Why? Am I not fuzzy enough?"

PIXAL squinted, trying to figure out if that was a joke. She was just about to say something rather acidic when a family hove into view, towing two small children.

"Oh dear. Quick, get into character!" whispered Zane. "I'll explain more later."

PIXAL looked shifty.

"No, don't tell them you aren't real!" pleaded Zane under his breath. "Don't tell them anything isn't real! The parents would be very angry, and the children would be so disappointed. You don't want to ruin Christmas for little children, do you?"

PIXAL hesitated, torn. In the meantime, the family approached Santa's workshop, and Zane quickly stepped up.

"Hello!" he called, smiling and surreptitiously adjusting his antlers. "Are you here to visit Santa? Step right up, please!"

One of the kids scurried ahead to tell Santa her Christmas list, while the younger one paused to stare up at Zane. His parents chuckled, cooing "Say hi to the nice reindeer, Ty!" Zane played along, waving one felt hoof sweetly at the toddler. The kid's eyes widened.

"Pet!" he demanded, already heading for Zane with one hand up. Zane looked to the parents for permission, then laughed and scooped the youngster up in his arms.

"Is that soft?" he asked, as Ty stroked lovingly between his reindeer ears. "I'm growing my coat out for the winter, so I can be warm while helping Santa deliver presents."

Ty nodded solemnly. Seeing that his sister was sliding off Santa's lap, he began squirming until Zane set him down.

"Have a nice visit with Santa!" called Zane, then re-adjusted his antlers and glanced to PIXAL with a coaxing smile. She turned her head away.

"I—I can't look at you."

"PIXAL . . . " Zane didn't know if he was amused or dismayed. A little bit of both, maybe. Just then, however, he saw that the little girl returning from her visit with Santa looked awfully unhappy. Oh no . . . was that grouch not good with children? Maybe she had been frightened of Santa, as some kids were, and he hadn't been good at soothing her?

Well, either way, that couldn't stand. Leaving the question of truthfulness to fester for the moment, Zane swooped over to chat with the little girl until she cheered up.


In his own personal opinion, Garmadon's plan was absolutely spectacular. The only problem was, he couldn't tell if it was a spectacular success or a spectacular failure.

On one hand, he was probably going to be stuck here for hours, with these snotty little brats clambering around on his lap and lisping disgustingly adorable present requests. Blegh. This beard was itchy as heck, and he knew his second pair of arms was going to get really sore, staying wrapped up under his Santa suit. He had no clue how to act like a Santa, and he wouldn't have done it even if he knew, so he risked being found out. And he hadn't reckoned on the Nindroids being so close by.

On the plus side, though, he seemed to have everyone completely fooled. Even the Nindroids weren't paying attention to him, caught up with greeting families and having some private argument. Speaking of, now they were arguing instead of being all lovey-dovey, and that was very gratifying. Besides, sometimes he got to see some crying children or utterly dysfunctional families, snapping and snarling and making a public scene instead of being jolly. Did his heart good.

So he could bide his time, for now. In the meantime, he could plot how to ruin Christmas entirely, and-or destroy Ninjago, once he got a chance to ditch this ankle monitor.

Meanwhile, Santa's reindeer was turning out to be a bigger hit than Santa himself. He was a good actor, and of course very fuzzy. All the children wanted to pet him or hug him, and all his teammates (so, overgrown children) wanted to as well. He couldn't stay grumpy about it for long, being that popular.

In between wishing families a merry Christmas, he tried to reason with PIXAL.

"Encouraging children to believe in magical things is very common," he assured her. "Look how much happiness it's giving them!"

"So lying is acceptable if it makes others happier?" PIXAL wasn't budging. "What if something bad happened, but you told your teammates nothing was wrong because it made them happier? Would that be all right?"

"Well—well, I—" Zane faltered. "No, that's different. Lying in that case might be dangerous, or hurtful in the long run. Telling children we're real elves and reindeer is harmless."

"What about when they grow up and find out we're just Nindroids in costumes? They'll be so disillusioned! They'll never trust anyone again." PIXAL folded her arms. "That's not harmless."

"Most children come to terms with it just fine," sighed Zane. "Most people feel the disillusionment is worth the years of happiness they had."

"Most?" PIXAL huffed. "Are we being utilitarian about this, then?"

"PIXAL . . . " groaned Zane again. How to win her over? It was starting to get difficult explaining to families why Santa's elf was so sourly silent. Besides, he didn't want her to feel like Christmas was some kind of shady racket job and she was an unwitting accomplice. He remembered he'd been a little puzzled by Christmas traditions himself when he was a younger Nindroid, but he'd eventually learned to appreciate it when he saw how much everyone enjoyed it. He was confident he could inspire her to do the same.

As he tried to think of another argument, a hoarse whisper came from behind the Christmas tree.

"Pssst! Zane-deer the reindeer!"

Checking to make sure no more children were in line, Zane headed over. He found Cole leaning over the fence, grinning.

"Heya fuzzy."

"No more petting." Zane leaned away with an annoyed smile. "You've had enough."

Cole chuckled.

"Okay, okay. Hey, Kai and I just finished decorating around that little novelty shop they have. Found somethin' for ya."

He tossed a cardboard-mounted novelty item into Zane's hands. Zane turned it over. It was a battery-powered blinking red ball, with an elastic so you could wear it on your head. Probably meant to be a clown nose, but there were obvious other purposes.

"Very funny," sighed Zane.

"C'monnnn, Frosty! The kids will love it! You can be Rudolph the Red-Nosed Nindroid."

For a moment Zane narrowed his eyes at Cole, who only grinned harder.

"This is revenge for Laughy's, isn't it," he said at last.

"Whaaaat?" Cole gasped dramatically, putting a hand to his heart. "You're accusing me? The responsible one? Of petty revenge? On Christmas?"

Zane only squinted harder. Cole rolled his eyes.

"Okay, ya got me. I mean, I'm not saying this would make up for you shoving me into the most humiliating stage experience since I was seven years old, screwing me over twice, and me nearly dying a whole bunch of times, all because you randomly got fixated on chasing The Quiet One all by yourself, but . . . " He raised his eyebrows to indicate that he was actually saying just that. Zane weighed his options for a moment, then gave a frustrated sigh.

"And seriously, the kids would love it," added Cole, more earnestly. "You know Rudolph's the favorite."

Zane glared him down for a moment. At last, though, he sighed one last time and pulled off the cardboard backing. He gave Cole a sardonic smirk.

"Well, PIXAL did say I wasn't a very believable reindeer. Maybe this would help." He slipped on the blinking nose. "Do I look more convincing now?"

"Perfect!" Cole struggled not to crack up. "Convincing isn't even the word."

Zane rolled his eyes, smiling resignedly.

"Where is Kai?" he said after a moment. "Didn't you say you were decorating the novelty shop together?"

"Oh . . . yeah . . . " Cole's grin faded at once, and he looked away. "Ah, he's out cooling off. Towards the end this kid jumped out of the store wearing a monster mask, and Kai nearly killed him on sight."

"Oh my goodness—"

"It was fine, it was fine!" said Cole hastily. "He caught himself in time, didn't punch the kid or anything. But—you know."

"There was a scene?" Zane winced.

"I mean . . . just a little." Cole shrugged uncomfortably. "The kid wasn't freaked out or anything, but Kai was a little mad. I guess partly with the kid for jumping out, but I think mostly at himself for reacting like that." He kicked at the base of the fence lightly. "You know Kai. He doesn't like the idea that a kid in a mask could mess him up. Guess I can't blame him."

There was a morose silence.

"I'm sure he'll be all right," said Zane. "Just give him some time."

"Yeah, I sent him out for a nice quick walk to clear his head. He'll be fine." Cole sighed. After a moment he looked back up and cracked a smile again. "Annnnnyway."

Zane hadn't realized he'd drifted into range; he made an annoyed noise as Cole patted him solemnly on the head.

"I'm going to start charging you a petting zoo fee."

Cole laughed and shoved his arm playfully. Zane, grateful that the mood was improving, shoved back. Cole was about to retaliate, but he stopped suddenly when he saw a green figure passing nearby.

"Hey Lloyd! Lloydster! Come over here and meet Rudolph!"

"Maybe later, sorry!" called Lloyd. "Gotta meet some guys!"

"Awww, busybody." Cole sighed. "Oh well. Hey, I think some more kids are coming to see Santa. Think PIXAL can handle 'em, or—"

"Uh-oh." Zane turned away with a rapidity that left Cole startled. "Thanks for the warning!"

He whisked back to his post, leaving Cole looking after him blankly.


Lloyd sighed as he jogged down the mall hallway. He wasn't sure what was going on—Mr. Beasley had just radioed him something about meeting some guards near the food court—but he hoped it was gonna be quick. He wanted to get back to his security detail, and maybe get a chance to hang out with the others a little. He was glad they seemed to be warming up to this mall project—he really wanted them all to have a good time.

At least the people he was passing in the mall seemed pretty happy. He wasn't anywhere near the feel-good Christmas vibe—he and Nya had already caught two shoplifters each, and stopped a near-brawl in the parking lot. Nya had ended up buying the item for one of the shoplifters herself—he was just a kid, and his family couldn't afford a doll for his little sister. Harsh reminders that the city was still far from recovered. Hard times and quasi-anarchy were still pretty common out there.

But here among the twinkling decorations, maybe the citizens could forget all that. At least for a little while. Maybe they could remember how to be happy.

Then Lloyd saw the guards he was supposed to meet, and his heart sank. Their faces didn't bode well.

"Hi," he said. "Mr. Beasley said you needed a hand?"

"Uhh . . . yeah," mumbled one of the guards. He twisted his hat between his hands. "See, uh, we're with Kryptarium Prison . . . "

"Community service division," supplied the other one.

"Yeah, and we were supposed to guard one of the prisoners while he did some community service. And, we, uh, kinda . . . "

"Lost him," said Lloyd, not even asking. He tried not to let frustration overtake him. Didn't these guys know how dangerous Kryptarium inmates were? What if someone got hurt? And Mr. Beasley had been so worried that people would be scared to come to the mall, the last thing they needed was an escaped convict running loose . . .

"Well, I can help you look," he said gamely. "Who'd you lose?"

The guards exchanged an odd look and began to mumble indistinctly, shuffling their feet.

"Huh?" Lloyd tilted his head, confused.

"Uh, well, he's about . . . yea high . . . " One of the guards demonstrated.

"Yeah, and, uh . . . pretty grouchy . . . "

"Doesn't talk much . . . "

Lloyd blinked from one guard to the other, wondering why they were beating around the bush.

"You don't know his name?"

The guards exchanged another guilty look. After a moment one of them blurted, "Oh! We do know he's still inside the mall! Ankle monitor."

"Yeah, yeah, still inside the mall," agreed the other one eagerly. "Shouldn't be hard to find him, right?"

"Would . . . help if I knew what he looked like . . . " said Lloyd, but at last shrugged and pulled his mask down. "Okay then! Nya and I will do some extra searching, and I'll tell my friends to keep an eye out too. We'll find him fast!"

"Uh . . . yeah, we'll keep searching too! See you!"

The guards rushed off, relieved. They knew they had to get help finding their escapee fast, but they really hadn't wanted to admit that they managed to unleash Lord freakin' Garmadon on the Ninjago City Mall.

Especially not to his freakin' estranged son.


A/N: How does this keep turning into an episode of I Love PIXAL, what the heck . . . I'm not even trying, it just happens. Zane's got some 'splainin' to do!

I think next chapter things will finally start happening in earnest . . . This story just keeps writing itself longer and longer. XP