Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original "Ninjago: Masters of Spintizu" characters, nor do I own the original settings. I only own Katherine, Beck and Nikkei.

THREE — "SIGN"

Pythor slithered as fast as he could. Just like before he had no idea where he was going — he just needed to find a safe route out of the city. But how? Pythor took cover in an ally to stop and catch his breath, that way he could calmly gather his thoughts together.

I need to think! He exclaimed to himself, pressing a hand against his fast-beating heart. It's obviously too dangerous to travel through the city, so the only hope I have of getting is underground.

He paused, risking a glance down to the bandage. The rain had wet it down, but overall it seemed fine. The tape looked just as tight as before. This eased his worry a little; he was lucky the injury hadn't opened back up after his bold escape. That wasn't one of his best moments. It would have gone a lot smoother, had he been able —

A blinding light shot at Pythor, catching him off guard. He shielded his eyes, startled again when voices began shouting.

"Here's one!" a deep voice yelled. "Back here in the ally!"

"Don't let it get away!" cried another.

Pythor escaped before the thought to do so even occurred to him. He turned down the first corner he saw. There were footsteps running behind him, he could feel and hear them. But Pythor slithered fast, a large gap widening between him and his pursuer. He tried to turn invisible - Pythor felt the same pulse that normally happened before he vanished out of sight. But - just like last time in that house - it failed. Pythor was visible and defenseless.

He needed to find a way to the sewers; his very life depended on it. As he slithered, Pythor searched for ways to escape. The gap between him and his pursuer widened more.

The pursuer could also tell. The policeman had no choice but to stop, as he pulled out and aimed his weapon.

"Stop!" he shouted. But there was no way that was going to happen. "I said: STOP!"

BANG!

A loud, sudden yet familiar-sounding crack startled Pythor — memories flashed across his mind: of the ground splitting before him, of a giant wall of scales rocketing towards the dark heavens and a hungry gaze looking down right at him —

Then a sharp pain bursting from the back of his right shoulder jolted Pythor back to earth. It was a kind of pain the Anacondrai had never experienced before, one so precise, so heart stopping. The shock caused his body to freeze, and Pythor tumbled face first against the hard, wet concrete ground.

The fall made his pain worse, in both his shoulder and side injury. The Serpentine could only lay there, trembling in pain.

Footsteps drew near once again. Pythor, with an idea in mind, tried to keep still...

"I..." the policeman panted, "I think I got it. But I'm n-not sure if it's dead —"

Pythor acted the moment he could tell the man had let his guard down. He ignored the scream from his injuries as he moved with the speed that only Anacondrai possessed. The policeman had no time to act, one moment he was armed, but then the next Pythor managed to smack the gun from his grip with one powerful swing of his hand. The human cried out, both in terror and agony.

It was cut short. Pythor pinned him against the nearest wall with simply his arm and lifted him up until his feet were dangling. The man shouted, screamed and kicked, doing his best to struggle. With a deep, vehement hiss from Pythor, he froze. Their gazes met — one full of hatred and one full of fear. The Anacondrai could smell the man's terror in the air, so he wasted no time as he reeled his other hand back.

There was a chance open, a chance for Pythor to strike. He poised his black claws, aiming to attack the most vulnerable spot —

BANG!

Another loud crack broke Pythor's guard, but it wasn't until another shot of pain — this time through his unprotected arm — that he realized he was in danger all over again. He pulled back with a cry, dropping the human in the process. In the blink of an eye, the Anacondrai was on the run once again.

Pythor slithered as fast as he could through the allies, turning every corner without a nagging thought of 'where?' crossing his mind. The loud shots echoed like drums in his head, causing dreadful flashbacks to dance in a rhythm of heartbeats across his vision. He held onto his injured arm tightly, unsure if the thick liquid seeping from under his hand and between his claws was rain water or...or...

He didn't want to think about that.

What he needed — more than anything at the moment — was a place to hide.

After another sharp turn into an ally, his prayers were answered. A large, pile of wood with a half-broken crate were against he brick wall. Pythor practically dove for it. He slithered behind the crate, grateful that not only was it sturdy but the inside was deep enough for him to hide in. He crawled inside, like the snake he was, and hid in the darkness.

The crate was damp and smelled, and drops of water leaked from the top but the Serpentine made no complaints, especially now that he had the chance to catch his breath and calm down his fast-beating heart.

Pythor risked looking at his arm. With just one glance, his stomach lurched. Blood seeped out of the coin-sized hole. He brought a hand around his shoulder. Feeling a wetness there too, he pulled back with crimson stained claws. Then there was his only covered injury. He saw the bandage half hanging off his scales, wet and heavy from the water. Dirt and mud stained the white padding. Some of the grime had even gotten on his wound as well.

Pythor, trembling, for once in his long, long life...had no idea what to do.

He wanted to scream and cry out to someone — he wanted to cry out to him. To shout for him until he came, just like in his hatchling days. When everything wasn't awful, and Pythor wasn't all...all alone.

At this point he was contemplating letting himself rot away in the crate. Why not? It wouldn't be the first time he was forced into darkness to wither away. And this way, no one would disturb him. No stupid boy would bother him, no Ninja would jeopardize his plan, no other Serpentine would look to him instantly for answers...he could spend his last few days — if not hours — here peacefully in this crate.

The thought was so enticing to Pythor. He practically welcomed it. It was a nice thought, considering he wasn't the kind of person who contemplated his own demise often. But that was then, and this was now. Of course he wouldn't have thought of something so horrid during that time, when was there time to think about death when you were trying to unify Tribes or unleash ancient gods?

Pythor remembered being told as a child that one's destiny was written in the stars...it made him wonder if there was one up there that had it out for him. Pythor P. Chumsworth's fate: "To die alone in a crate after letting down hundreds and devastating millions".

…

Sounds fair. Enough, at least...possibly. Maybe a small fraction of enough — or the tiniest, almost microscopic size and write "ENOUGH" on it, so that the stars will know that was his share in their plan.

Pythor couldn't help but chuckle at himself. Here he was, bleeding out and he was being bitter over a few stars.

How low he'd sunk in just a few hours.

He began staring into the damp wood. Drops of water that slipped through the cracks fell and streamed down his face. A few of them landed along the bottom of his eyes where they slid smoothly down...oddly enough, he hadn't felt those touch his scales.

Pythor's wet eyes widened as he heard feet against rock. He looked through a broken crack through the planks on the side of the crate. He expected to see one of the humans from before, but he blinked, filled with absolute shock at who he saw.

She looked around, clearly lost, with her black hair soaking wet and clinging to her forehead. Her only means of warmth was a long coat that came to the middle of her hips. But he knew her face straight away...and he remembered her name ever so clearly.

Katherine.

Pythor was more than puzzled than he'd ever been in his life. Had she followed him? All the way out here, in the rain? But why? Was she searching for him?

He watched the woman reel herself around, as if she heard something.

Pythor would have ignored it, had he not caught traces of faint voices heading towards here. His gaze snapped back towards Katherine, noticing the strange look on her face. He couldn't read it. At all.

So he had no choice.

Pythor, using his heart-stopping speed once again, escaped his hiding spot just so he could quickly snatch the woman and slither back inside the crate. Not an audible or distinguishable sound was made, not even as he dragged her in.

His hand slapped right over her mouth, as his arm pinned her arms down and his tail wrapped around both her legs.

She squealed and struggled out of fright, thrashing herself back and forth, and side to side to get herself free.

"Shut up!" Pythor hissed, straight into her left ear. "Shut up right now!"

That was when the footsteps went by, as well as a passing conversation. Both he and Katherine became stiff.

"How could we have lost something that big?" one of the voices said, almost out of breath.

"That doesn't matter now, you idiot!" snapped another. "We have to catch it before it finds a way underground!"

He waited until the voices grew distant, almost completely silent. That was when Pythor decided to act. He shoved the woman against the more sturdier side of the crate, pinning her tight against it, his hand still clamped over her mouth. He kept his head as high above hers as he could, meeting her dead in the eyes.

"You have eight seconds to explain why you followed me," the Anacondrai warned, his voice dark and low, "so I recommend to not stutter."

He removed his hand. Surprisingly, she delivered an answered almost instantly.

"I need to ask you something!" she said, trying to stay calm (which was a challenge when in the presence of such an intimidating person).

Pythor, inwardly dumbfounded, blinked at the woman.

"...You're kidding me," he said, incapable of wrapping his brain around that. "Please, tell me you're kidding."

Katherine shook her head at him.

It was the first time a human had accomplished in stumping Pythor, and he had no idea how to react.

"You realize," he began, trying to make something very apparent to her, "that you ran all the way out here, in the pouring rain after a Serpentine — a Serpentine who threw you halfway across a room just prior before this — just so you could ask me a question?"

He paused, giving that statement a chance to sink into her brain.

"Okay," nodded the woman, slightly taken aback. "That sounds really dumb and insane out loud..."

Pythor hummed and nodded in agreement at her.

"However," he shrugged, "since you came all this way...might as well ask me."

She had courage...he had to give her that, at least.

"I want to know," Katherine gulped, trying to maintain eye contact, "if...if you had-had anything to do with the-the, uh, attack?"

Pythor blinked, now wholly focused. The question made him tense—also making his diminishing ego cringe—and he tried not to show it.

"Why?" he asked, unafraid to show his suspicion.

"Just a-answer the question." The woman said, strongly. "Yes or no."

She was pulling a smart move...or so she thought. Pythor could indicate the sign of every trick in the book, from deceit to betrayal. Strangely, he wasn't spotting any sign of those from her. Which meant this was something else...a compromise, maybe?

Why else would she search high and low for him in poor whether conditions just to ask him a simple, yet probing question? If he said yes — which was something he undoubtedly would never admit to any living soul — she could pull anything: scream, draw a weapon, whatever else she had thought of before encountering him.

But then Pythor paused, as he realized...if he said no, and she did all this just to find him then that would mean...

He glanced upwards for a heartbeat. Seems a star up there was giving him a break.

As innocently as he could, Pythor pulled away, letting the woman breathe.

"No," he answered, shaking his head at her. "I had nothing to do with that — I wanted nothing to do with that."

The woman rubbed her neck, looking at him. He could see there was uncertainty lingering.

"I told them unleashing that monster was a horrible idea!" Pythor pressed, pouring his sweet lie into her. "I said it would backfire, but they refused to listen to me!"

"How did you get all the way out here?" she asked.

"I...I don't really know," Pythor admitted (which was the honest truth). "That monster attacked us as well. One moment I was in one place, and then the next I was here."

"I see..." she paused as she wiped something wet off her chest. She looked down and saw the blood. "What the —"

She saw the wound on his arm, her eyes looked they would bulge out of her skull.

"Your arm!" she exclaimed.

"Yes," Pythor rhetorically muttered quietly, "hadn't noticed..."

"We need to get you back to my place," she said. "I know someone who can help patch you up."

She crawled out of the crate, and then she turned around to him. Pythor watched her offer her hand out.

"Come on," she said, "before someone shows up."

Pythor, trying not to hesitate, took her hand.

She helped him out, knowing his injuries made it difficult for him to stay upright. The woman allowed Pythor to use her as a support, letting him wrap an arm around her shoulders and lean a little against her.

"Just let me know when you need to rest," she told him, after they peeked around a corner to find the coast clear.

"Don't worry about me," Pythor grunted, as they quickly went along. He winced and hissed at stings here and there.

Everything was rather calm as they turned and went down ally ways. They both made sure to avoid streets, knowing that was where most of the investigation was at.

"How far are we from your home?" Pythor asked, quietly.

"We're not too far."

"Oh, thank good —"

"But not too close either."

Pythor blinked at the woman. "What does that even mean?" he demanded in a hiss. "How are we not too far but not too close? That's a double negative!"

"Hey," she hissed back, her aggravated glare snapping right at him, "I don't think you realize how far you went! I never would have found you in the first place if it weren't for the gun shots!"

"How do you not know the way to your own home?"

"How about you shut up and let me find my way?"

He brought his face closer, glaring back with his own daggers.

"You're beginning to get on my nerves." He hissed, threateningly.

She got right back in Pythor's face, unflinching from his hiss.

"You know, I don't have to do this," she warned. "I'll drop you right here, right now if you don't shut your stupid trap!"

"You impudent —"

Suddenly they heard voices heading their way.

"You hear that?" someone asked.

"I think it came from over here..."

Both Pythor and Katherine looked around frantically for a hiding spot. She spotted one at the other side of the ally.

"Over there!" she said, nodding towards a wet dumpster by the corner.

Pythor saw it and his stomach flipped.

"I'd rather be caught." He refused.

Katherine wanted to rip her hair out. "Oh for the love of — come on!"

She grabbed his hand and pulled him along as she ran towards it. Lucky for her, Pythor wasn't strong enough to pull back, so he was practically dragged like a rag doll by the tiny woman. Before he could snap at her, she dove them both behind the dumpster. The moment the wet grime on the metal touched his scales, Pythor gagged.

He slapped a hand over his mouth so he wouldn't vomit. They hid at the last moment before the voices came behind them.

"Are you sure you heard something?" someone asked.

"I'm positive," they responded. "It was right around here. I'll check up here, you go down there."

Pythor and Katherine screamed silent curses. They both began to panic, unsure what their best options were: run or get caught. Neither sounded at all pleasant. Different thoughts ran through their minds at the same time.

This is such bull! Katherine screamed, trying not to bang her head against the metal. I'm just a good frickin' person trying to do a good frickin' deed! Nikkei was right, I should have left well enough alone and let this thing get caught. At least I would be back home in my nice apartment and prepare for my goo...okayish job in the morning. I'm going to be a criminal! I'll be lucky if they let me back in the real world — but even then I'll still always be a criminal!

Pythor was experiencing the same level of panic, only the thoughts in his mind were...

I'm dead! I'm dead! I'm dead! I'm dead! They're going to stuff me and mantle me in a museum somewhere! I can feel it!

Just as outrageous as Katherine's.

The closer the footsteps grew, the more Pythor and Katherine kissed their freedom goodbye. The began counting the seconds until it was gone forever. Before either of them knew it, there came a loud cry of fear.

"SERPENTINE! SERPENTINE!"

But Katherine and Pythor looked around, and then at each other, both wearing the same confused expression. The footsteps began leading away from them, as well as the voices.

"Hurry, we have to head it off!" the person told their companion. "Find the girl screaming!"

Katherine moved her head around, catching the two authorities turning out of the ally way.

"They're gone," she whispered, breathless.

Pythor put a hand on his chest. His heart was about to burst right there.

"I'll be right back," Katherine told him, standing up.

"You'll what? Hey, wait —"

She didn't give Pythor a chance to argue against her...but it didn't stop him from shout-whisper at her.

"Don't you dare leave me here!" he hissed. "Get back here!"

But she ignored him. Pythor pounded his fist against the dumpster, not caring about the grime.

Katherine ran to the other side of the ally way. That voice, the person who screamed, it almost sounded like...but that couldn't have been her. It couldn't.

She was just about to peek around the corner when someone almost collided into her. Both girls shrieked in fright, jumping away from each other. Both of them looked at each other, and Katherine's mouth dropped.

"Nikkei?" she gasped.

Nikkei, dripping wet and breathless, smirked. "Hey," she greeted, lazily waving a hand.

"What are you doing here?" Katherine questioned, shaking her head in puzzlement. "I thought you said —"

But Nikkei raised a hand, stopping her. "I know, I know." She wiped her wet forehead. "Believe me, I know."

"So why?"

Nikkei shrugged. "Well for starters, I'd be a pretty crappy friend if I'd let you run all willy-nilly out in the cold and rain, right?"

Katherine tried not to roll her eyes. "Nikkei,"

"Now hold on," she stopped again. "That was the starter. I was about to leave your apartment when a thought occurred to me: Kat's never been a bad judge of character before. Sure, this time — instead of a guy who wears black leather and rides a motorcycle — it's the most terrifying Serpentine I've ever seen...but so what?"

Nikkei followed that up with a beaming grin. "That shouldn't stop me from helping, right?"

Katherine blinked, her surprise obvious in her widened eyes. "Nikkei..."

"So, where is it — er, he, where is he?"

Katherine shook her head, snapping out of her stare. "Oh! Back here!"

They both ran back to the dumpster. Katherine wasn't sure why she was expecting a relieved welcome back as she received such a contempt, narrow-eyed glare from the Serpentine.

"I told you I'd be right back," she sternly reminded, crossing her arms.

"A better warning wouldn't have been hard." He retorted.

Nikkei glanced at Katherine. "Talk about a good first impression..." she mumbled.

"Will you still help me?" Katherine asked.

"You don't even need to ask." She assured, smirking warmly.

Katherine smiled, grateful for Nikkei's support.

They helped the Serpentine up, both of them becoming his support. Now it was much easier with an extra person assisting Katherine in carrying him. Nikkei made no complaints, either. She offered nothing but support as they lugged him back to Katherine's apartment. They could tell he was getting tired. He also became heavier, thankfully this was by the time they were heading up the stairs of the complex.

"By the way," Katherine grunted at Nikkei, as they took him up one step at a time, "you promised you would never mention that guy ever again."

Nikkei chuckled. "I didn't remember that promise until I brought him up. Sorry."

"It was a phase you know."

"I know, Kat. I know."

Katherine gave her a skeptic look. With an embarrassed flush, she muttered under her breath:

"I was eighteen."