CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHOICES TO BE MADE

Pythor led Morro through the tunnels again—the ghost was beginning to wonder where exactly they were, and how there were so many of these tunnels. It seemed like it was miles and miles. Of course, then there was the fact that Morro was moving at a very slow pace. And the possibility that Pythor was leading him in circles so that he wouldn't know where he was. That was unnecessary, though. Morro had no idea where he was, and even if he did, he really had nowhere to escape to.

The pain in his legs was positively blinding, and Morro could barely think at the present moment. Pythor said nothing to him, and he didn't notice any difference when his legs finally did give out and the snake proceeded to drag him across the rocky floor. It already hurt enough, those burns couldn't exactly hurt any more. For the most part, the tunnel was dark, lit only by the occasional torch and then Pythor's lantern. But Morro didn't bother looking and kept his eyes tightly shut as they went. Pythor was silent. It was as though the other serpentine had vanished into the very walls, or maybe they were gathered somewhere else—Morro honestly had no idea and barely cared.

On and on they went, until finally they stopped. Pythor let the chains go and Morro simply slumped forward. His head was spinning, his legs and arms burning like fire, and he was more glad than ever that he was a ghost—he wasn't sure he'd be able to breathe right now from the pain. A few seconds after he hit the ground, Pythor's tail looped around and struck him sharply in the knees. "Get up!" the Serpentine hissed.

Morro gave a soft whimper and slowly started pulling himself off of the ground. He couldn't stand, but he managed to prop himself up on aching arms. Slowly, he started to open his eyes. It was lighter here—there were torches on the wall, spaced evenly. The light was still almost blinding, and his vision was distorted from the aching and pain in his body. His eyes began to adjust. First the blinding light turned to distorted swirls of meaningless color, and then it shifted to fuzzy blurs, and then he saw real shapes. Not clear, but enough to tell.

Pythor gave an irritated grunt and grabbed him by the hair, turning his head. After a brief period of adjustment, Morro gasped, eyes widening a bit. In front of him was a moderately sized cell. But that wasn't what shocked him. What shocked him were the cell's inhabitants. On the cot in the back of the cell lay Wu, dressed still in nightclothes, and unmoving. But he had to be alive... or else why would he be stuck in a cell? That wouldn't make any sense at all whatsoever. The greatest surprise came when Morro's gaze strayed to the other corner of the cell.

Suddenly he was trying to get to his feet, a brief surge of excitement rushing through him, mingled with concern. Pythor released his hear as he climbed to his feet, falling forward to grip the bars of the cell. The figure was unmistakable—tousled blond hair, fair skin with the very slightest smattering of freckles across his nose, and far too tall for his youthful face. Morro pressed his face between the bars of the cell—these were solid to him. Probably deepstone, because he didn't feel anything odd.

"Lloyd!" he cried, shocked and incredulous. The ninja lifted his head just the slightest bit, and Morro felt his eyes burning once more with tears. As impossible as it was, he was alive. Lloyd hadn't been killed, he was alive all along. Morro was nearly crying from relief. As much as he still wanted to be the green ninja, his mind had accepted that the title belonged to Lloyd. And Ninjago needed him, the Ninja needed him, his father needed him... now he was here, and he was alive.

The green ninja didn't respond to him, it seemed that the motion of his head was as much as he could manage. But he'd be okay... right?

Pythor had grown impatient and reached forward, once again pulling Morro up by his hair. He turned the ghost to face him, pushing his back against the wall. Morro winced a bit, but then Pythor relaxed his grip. Now he held him just tightly enough to keep him upright.

"Oh, you seem so happy... I'm sorry to have to spoil it all."

Morro blinked. "But... but the poison... Lloyd..."

"It seemed as though he died, yes, but that was only the first stage, a coma." Pythor's lips twisted into a wicked grin as his eyes left Morro's and glanced over his head into the cell. "That lasts only for a few days, or sometimes even a few hours. Never that long."

"F-first stage?" Morro felt his heart sinking. He'd been so happy at first, but where there was a first, there had to be something that followed it. That was never all it was, and now Morro was a little bit afraid to hear about what that something was. For a moment he'd completely forgotten about the pain in his body, his focus completely on what would happen to his master and the green ninja. "What... what else is there?"

Pythor smirked. "That is what I was getting to, little ghost, stop being so impatient," he chided, "We have plenty of time... or rather, we don't. You see, your nindroid friend was right. It is a neurotoxin, it kills through paralysation. But not quickly. No, once a victim wakes from the coma, they have... perhaps two days at most before the atrophy begins. And then, it works just as he said—but not quite as merciful as it may seem. First, it paralyzes the extremities—feet, then legs, then hands and arms... and then one is unable to move their entire body. After that, their organs slowly shut down, and somehow the compound makes certain that it is the least dangerous ones first. I'm sure it's fun to spend several minutes unable to breathe while you wait for your heart to stop..."

Morro felt cold and he stared at Pythor with wide eyes. Was this what he'd done to Lloyd? And now Morro would have to actually watch him die? The ghost had thought his death itself had been bad enough, but he'd been wrong—this was the worst. He'd be watching Lloyd waste away, slowly, and completely unable to do anything about it. The ghost began to tremble a little bit. Pythor grinned evilly as his words sank in.

"Well... if anything, you can be consoled by the fact that they will not be in much pain, as it cuts off their nervous systems as well," the snake stated offhandedly. It was then that Morro caught upon the word he'd used—they.

As if watching Lloyd die wasn't going to be bad enough... "No," he muttered quietly. "You didn't... poison Wu too?"

"Ah! You are getting smarter!" Pythor's voice was laced with mock glee as he nodded. "Of course I did. Why wouldn't I?" He chuckled, and took one hand off of Morro's shoulder to reach into a pocket. Morro had begun to tremble, and once again he felt his eyes burning with tears as he thought about it all. They stung, but he was used to this pain—he'd cried far too often. The burning in his eyes was almost a fact of his life by now. He'd looked away while Pythor had reached in, but the serpentine gripped his chin and forced him to look at him once more, lifting up a small phial full of liquid. There were only a few drops inside, it seemed, and it was a pale blue-violet color, lacking any sort of luminescence.

"Still, I decided to prevent any accidents... and engineered an antidote. Unfortunately, my entire stock was destroyed that time you stumbled upon my lab... this is all I have left. Only enough for... one cure." He held the bottle out, then took Morro's hand and wrapped his burned fingers around it. Instantly, the ghost gripped the phial tightly. Pythor just continued to grin, and pulled him away from the wall. He took a moment to unlock the vengestone cuffs around Morro's wrists and let them fall to the ground, though he still kept a firm hold on the ghost to keep him from slipping away. He unlocked the door to the cell and pushed Morro inside. The ghost fell, cradling the phial close to keep it from breaking and letting the precious drops of antidote fall uselessly onto the ground.

Pythor laughed from the other side of the bars as he locked the cage down. "Remember, there is only enough of that antidote for one of them... so... who shall it be? Your Master? Or the green ninja?" he shook his head. "I will allow you to choose which one. But only one can live, you know... oh... and you had better make your choice quickly, or neither will."

On that happy note, the snake turned and began to slither away, leaving Morro in the cell with Wu and Lloyd. The ghost stayed where he was for a few moments, shaking hard, gripping the phial tightly, but not tight enough to break it. How could he do that? How could he choose between Lloyd and Wu? Lloyd was the green ninja, the leader of the team. He'd actually accepted Morro after everything he'd done, and was possibly the most good-hearted person to ever live. But Wu... Wu was the closest thing to family that Morro had ever had. The choice was impossible to make. Morro curled up on the floor, shaking even harder, a choked sob escaping him.

"Mor-ro..." Wu's voice was weak and quiet, but it brought Morro out of his pit of misery. He forced himself up, face streaked with burns where his tears had fallen. Wu had pushed himself up into a seated position, and was looking toward Morro with a concerned expression on his face. Wordlessly, he brought one arm out to the side.

Morro hadn't seen that gesture since he was a child. It had only been shown a few times before, when Morro had been particularly upset over something. But this time, the reaction was the exact same as last. The ghost wasted no time in making his way over, and pulling himself up against his master's outstretched arm. Wu closed it so that Morro's back was pressed against that arm, and carefully brought the ghost's burned legs up over his knees. Morro pillowed his head on Wu's shoulder, only a few moments before turning it so his face was buried inside it. A few seconds of stillness passed. And then, he began to shake again, choking out a few sobs as Wu rested his other hand on Morro's shoulder, holding him there gently. Neither said anything. Wu didn't try to reassure Morro—from experience he knew that reassurance rarely if ever worked with that particular boy. Finally, Morro finished his cry, rested for a few minutes, and then sat up.

Wu released him, and helped to sit him down next to his cot, so that he was just a few feet from Lloyd. Morro carefully pulled his legs up so that the bottoms weren't touching the ground. He looked down at the phial in his hand, swallowing. "O-only one of you... c-can be saved," he whispered, choking up all over again. "I don't... I don't know what to do."

Neither Lloyd nor Wu responded, and each made eye contact with the other before looking away. Lloyd looked away first, staring at the ground. Then he reached a hand over, resting it on top of Morro's wrist. He gave it a gentle squeeze, being careful not to touch the burns, and tried to offer Morro a little smile. "T-take your t-time... it's... alright. W-we'll be fine."

Lloyd's words were spoken, but his tone wasn't sincere, and his expression told an entirely different story. Morro felt sick to his stomach as he looked at that small glowing bottle. This was horrible. Morro had no idea what to do. He had to choose between the only father he'd ever had and the one who had already been hurt by him enough, the savior of Ninjago. Morro shut his eyes.

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To Be Continued...

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REVIEW RESPONSES

Zena 1421 - Oh man is right.

Guest - Thank you!

TheAmberShadow - taking him to more pain and suffering hahaaaaa.

HS1274281 - Well... you were partially right lol.

FirstFandomFangirl - Yup. When.

Morro and More - Someone's gonna be dead.

Molly654 - Hahaha I make people die inside. I have a very particular skill set.