Omi did not expect Chase to appear, lounging on a black, sturdy rock. He was leaning in a detached sort of manner, his amber eyes, silted at the pupil stared daggers at the little monk. The boy should have figured that Chase would somehow find him, provided that it usually happened when he least expected it, or when his friends weren't around.

It should have alarmed Omi, how good he was at finding him, how smart, how cunning, or how powerful Chase was. It should have unnerved him. But he and Chase had a complicated relationship, so to speak. It varied from day to day. One day he would dash at Omi at full speed, Kwan-Dao sword in hand and a cocky grin on his face, as he would launch, and spin the weapon around wildly, intent on training him. Omi's breath would hitch, and he would jump from place to place like a cocooned bunny in the hopes of avoiding the weapon. And, of course, he wanted to impress Chase.

Other days were mellower, with his evil mentor watching over his battles, tenderly patting his head and calling him little one. The warlord was often a mystery. Even though normally, he would have been glad to see him, Omi did not feel the same at the moment, mainly because he was in his territory now, without friends, allies, or even frenemies. Unless you counted Jack, yet establishing on which side he was currently was more difficult than extracting honey from a nest of angry bees. And he was too tired to guess.

Really, it should have surprised him how they have all gathered together, like a united force, a four-headed dragon, or an angry gorgon ready to trap him.

They were always scattered, self-serving, with different heinous agendas and thousand-year-old grudges to boot. It seemed unlikely that they would put aside their differences for one second and smell the blood in the water. At least that's what he told himself at first, to get his mind off of his panting breath, his aching legs, and bursting lungs. He had been running inside Chase's little Heylin maze for over an hour, hunted like prey, given no respite.

It had been another attempt of sparing his friends the wrath of Chase Young. Unfortunately, they had lost the consecutive ten times against the shrewd and strategically gifted warrior. Knowing that Chase Young would not eviscerate him on the spot, unlike what he will do to his friends, and that he was more likely to spar with him and give him cookies, Omi ventured inside the lair. His aim was only to take back Dojo who had been previously kidnaped. Hopefully, he was not stewing in a bowl of soup as we speak.

Wuya had been chasing him, trying to fry him with the eye of Dashi. Hannibal was flying on Ying Ying countering his every attack and Jack's robots were an ever-present nuisance and for once an actual threat because of the strength in numbers.

With how fast his heart was racing, it was obvious that he would turn around at breakneck speed, his arm pointed in Chase's direction. He was about to say, "Wudai Neptune Water!" yet he stopped warily.

"Hello, little one. I was expecting you."

"Chase Young, relinquish Dojo at once, or suffer a most humiliating defeat!" the boy declared, wobbling on his feet yet staring confidently ahead.

"I'm afraid that's not possible, little one. The dragon has served his purpose, true enough, but with leverage comes power."

"And with angering Omi comes a glass of ass-trashing!" the monk said, prompting Chase to lift an elegant eyebrow.

"That's a can of ass-whoop, cheeseball," corrected Jack flying with his helipad.

"Ain't this precious, the littlest one has come to save his friend. So sweet it gives me diabetes," Hannibal said atop Ying-Ying.

"Yeah, yeah, fantastic. Can we hurry it up here? Some of us need their beauty sleep," Wuya, said crankily.

"Some of us need it more than others," Jack cheeked and Wuya growled.

"Robots, rip him to-"

"No!" Chase screamed. "Only incapacitate him, Spicer!"

"I, er, right. Sorry, got a little carried away. Robots catch him!"

Omi saw the mechanical army approaching fast. He ran at a wall, used it as a springing board, and jumped on a jack-bot's back, deactivating it. Then he avoided Hannibal's monkey strike, with a repulse the monkey. Chase was looking quite smug, proud, and gleeful at Omi's success, especially since Hannibal landed on his face.

That was when Chase decided to join the fight, having a feeling that the incompetents wouldn't even catch his reluctant little apprentice if he handed him on a silver platter.

Tigers advanced softly on their paws, their yellow eyes sparkling mischievously into the night, their silhouette illuminated by the ethereal moonlight.
The robots were flying, their agonizing whirl ringing in tandem with Omi's heart. Sweat was running down the young boy's forehead, and his hands were trembling.

Although it looked like a lost fight, he persevered.

"Give up, little one. I do not wish to harm you! You belong to me, on the Heylin side." Chase urged.

Omi was swaying from exhaustion, shooting attacks blindly, because his vision was starting to blur. Just before he hit the ground, Chase caught him snugly in his arms, secure.

"Oh, yeah! We got him, baby!" Jack cheered, pumping his fists.