"I… I'm sorry Lloyd"
His father can barely speak. The man whose voice has never once wavered or showcased even the tiniest hint of fear or weakness can now barely press out a broken, pathetically shuddery cough, though that horrifying revelation doesn't mean jack squat to Lloyd, because the words aren't real.
No, he simply can't hear anything over the tinnitus his ears have acquired after all the too-close encounters with explosions he's had today, over the deafening ruckus of a city-wide war being fought just a deathly drop below his feet, so whatever the hell kinda proclamation just left his father's mouth, he didn't hear it.
"H-hold on, you'll be ok!" Lloyd reassures. He can't get his voice to stabilize.
"I-I'll get you out of here…"
He offers his father-made-enemy-made-father-made-enemy-again the most convincing smile he can offer, but Lloyd can't even get himself to believe there's any reason to be remotely optimistic right now. He swallows the asphyxiating lump in his throat, but even then he can't really get his breathing under control.
His eyes dart around the battlefield frantically, searching for someplace safe he could shelter his father from the still-ongoing battle, but even then Lloyd can't see anything for the hot, salty liquid that suddenly blurs his vision.
He scrubs his entire face vigorously, drying off the distracting tears and disgusting grime, and the blood that's been leaking from a gigantic gash above his brow for the past while. Even then his overall range of sight doesn't improve in the slightest, because there's currently a blindingly bright doomsday light only growing increasingly powerful right behind them.
As its master Lloyd physically feels the absurd mass of energy running rampant—it tickles every living cell of his being, making every hair on his body jolt upright. It hurts worse than all those times Jay's played a handshake-and-zap joke on him.
How he wishes he could overpower and destroy the Overlord's control over all the chaos, end this senseless madness with a single swipe of his hand. Maybe he could have, had this happened all those years ago, in a battle not too different from their current one, where he was also standing alone before the unmovable and seemingly unconquerable forces of evil.
Back then, he was the deciding factor with the ability to control the tide of battle. The power within his fingertips would either prove enough to save everyone, or the darkness would prove too overwhelming for a single child to vanquish.
This time, Lloyd's too weak to even make a difference. To even get the big bad to pay him any attention.
Just… just what's he supposed to do?
He doesn't have the strength to stop the Overlord from charging his attack, a blast so big it's likely going to wipe out every last atom of Ninjago City. But it's like a single teacher being tasked with taking control of 1000 rampaging, feral toddlers who barely have the brain capacity to comprehend basic speech, much less understand common courtesy and what it means to behave, it's just… beyond the realm of possibility.
If only he was stronger…
Surely Lloyd must be the worst failure of a Green Ninja in all of history. Because no matter how many times he finds himself in this situation he just can't seem to stop his family from bleeding out in his arms.
Stronger…. stronger…. no, he's not strong… not strong enough to do a damn thing…
Lloyd chows down hard on his lower lip in a vain attempt at banishing the utterly unhelpful thoughts. He's only stopped from completely penetrating the skin and giving himself another fresh wound when Garmadon's glossy, almost transparent eyes meet his own, and Lloyd's breath hitches, getting stuck halfway up his airway.
His father's voice is so hoarse it's barely discernible amongst the sea of incomprehensible battlefield static, but his words still reach Lloyd, echoing louder than if the man had been screaming.
"Save yourself."
Garmadon coughs again, somehow even weaker than before.
"It's... too late for me…"
Lloyd opens his mouth to respond to that, to call him out for being straight-up delusional if he thinks he's gonna let him die.
Garmadon's eyelids fall shut before so much as a whimper leaves his tongue, and…
The world fades away.
For just a split second, all there is is himself and his father and the booming heartbeat in his ears.
Lloyd… his legacy, all his previous victories, every joy and sadness he's ever experienced… every time he's lost in video games, every time he's complained about doing chores, every time he has partied with his family after a successful mission… all of it's so utterly meaningless in the face of this.
It's so strange. The world is most certainly ending, but it doesn't end there.
Lloyd's lungs continue to function, sucking in tiny, pained gasps of air.
His eyes continue to feed him visual input, though his brain refuses to acknowledge that the imagines he's receiving are reflecting reality.
A sob wells up in his throat, and he doesn't—can't stop it, hiccuping wetly.
The legendary Green Ninja disappears.
In his place, all that's left is a tiny, helpless, sniveling kid who's so much younger than his body allows to be seen.
Grief grips his heart and twists it cruelly, despair, the cold, clammy hands of despair seize hold of him, immobilizing him, he's impaled with thousands of guilt-laced spears, one for every mistake he's made that's allowed things to come to this.
"No…"
Lloyd grips his father's shoulders, shaking them gently because his strength at this point is so drained that he can barely even do that much.
"I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I-I didn't mean it… of course an Oni can care…"
It's a plea for an answer, one that never comes. Frustration gets mixed into the impossibly complex concoction of emotions, and Lloyd's breathing destabilizes further, reminiscent of a rabid beast's.
Of course, of course of course of course the last thing his good-for-nothing, stupid, horrible parent ends up leaving him is a lesson on selfishness… What good would it even do to run away at this stage and leave everybody else to the same fate? He'll fight it, fight the Overlord's oppression, fight his power, until every bit of breath has left his body. Even if the scale tips in favor of darkness, he won't allow light to be completely extinguished.
But that's just the thing, isn't it? He can't do exactly that. He's… he's not strong enough.
Everybody… everybody else will end up just like his father. And Lloyd can't do anything to prevent it.
His lips tremble in tandem with the rest of his body.
Why?
Since when did he become such a joke? A flea that can do nothing more than bite the leg of titans that are impossible to topple, just a small annoyance to be swatted and discarded like a fly.
Why is he so powerless?
Powerless… powerless… powerless…
Lloyd's unsure if it's his own or his father's voice that's berating him, cause he still can't hear a thing for the shrill, shrieking siren blaring ceaselessly in his mind.
Nothing except for the deep, rumbling voice that suddenly cuts into his heart.
"Grieve not. You will soon join him."
Lloyd stiffens, every muscle and thought freezing in place.
It's a dangerous thing. The Overlord has made a lot of miscalculations, a lot of foolish decisions that have repeatedly led to his downfall.
Reminding Lloyd of his existence right at this moment is unquestionably his biggest blunder to date. Because now Lloyd has somewhere to direct the hurricane of uncontrollable anguish, an outlet—no, a target to circle in on, someone to blame and punish for taking his family away.
Raw, unrestrained rage floods his vision.
Lloyd doesn't feel his own injuries or exhaustion that's accumulated over the past hours of relentless fighting. All of it's so inconceivably miniscule compared to the far more pressing matter he's got ahead of him, the reason that fills his brain, fuelling his battered and broken body that's already long since surpassed its limit, a motivation he's frankly not unfamiliar with, though it's the first time it's come from himself rather than an unhinged enemy in need of a swift dealing with:
Revenge. Glowing hot, burning resentment, impossible to extinguish.
The honed refinement and meticulous control Lloyd usually reserves for using his elemental power is gone. As is the green that defines his mantle, his responsibility. Purple flows from his hands instead, a raging river rapid of devastating energy, a power far greater, far more invigorating than anything he's ever felt.
It's downright addicting, firing a weapon that his adversary can do nothing to stop, sending him flying, the very same being who mere moments ago was mocking him for his weakness.
Yes…
Every blow that lands send shivers of satisfaction down Lloyd's spine. It feels so damn good to be the one lashing out the beating for once, the one who can bring opponents to their knees, make them fear, make them hurt instead of them hurting him and his loved ones.
He's gonna pay…
The Overlord vaults at him, swinging his massive paw at Lloyd's tiny form. Lloyd manages to catch the enormous claw between his own, by comparison, puny hands, though the pointed tip still grazes his torso, opening a gash across his upper body that he can't feel right now over the roar of intoxicating adrenaline.
He stares up at the enemy towering over him, who now seems so pitifully small he can't feel intimidated even at this distance. Letting out an animalistic cry, he imbues the Overlord with a supercharged burst of unrestricted power.
The Overlord howls in agony, momentarily incapable of moving from how senselessly he's being shocked. He pushes through the pain in a regrettably short time, however, and in one gargantuan spin he lifts Lloyd's feet off the ground and sends him flying. Lloyd crashes into one of the nearby erected crystal structures, the impact shattering it, and he falls, colliding with the ground, limp body rolling a few paces before coming to a full stop.
Hot liquid bubbles up in his mouth. Lloyd spits out a mouthful of blood but allows himself no time to process the pain, rising to stand on unstable feet, charging with full power yet again before even blinking.
He'll do whatever it takes…
Lloyd fires another blast of his newfound power square in the Overlord's face. Or, well, it ends up hitting more in the direction of his shoulder, though the Overlord is still woefully underprepared, and instead of dodging, he tries blocking it with a single outstretched hand. He actually succeeds in holding it back, cutting through the beam for a second.
But only a second.
The blast forces its way through the blockade in its path, taking the figurative obstacle along with it.
The Overlord's arm.
Lloyd feels yet another surge of invigorating gratification at the tortured outcry that follows, a wide, toothy grin stretching across his face.
He'll do anything, anything to make sure he's never trampled on, never dismissed, never underestimated again.
Lloyd sets his palms aflame, cultivating the energy, growing it, preparing himself for the biggest discharge of power in the history of this realm.
The Overlord has bent down to one knee, clutching the shoulder where a limb used to be attached. He's defenseless like this, and Lloyd bellows, releasing all the pent-up grief and anger and aggravation over his own powerlessness in a single, cataclysmic battlecry, tearing at his vocal cords and making his already hammering heart run even further out of control. It's ok, though, it's worth it—he's got his gun, it's loaded, it's aimed, now all there's left to do is pull the trigger, fire, finish the job, destroy, murder, make him pay, make hurt like he hurt his fath—
From the outskirts of his peripheral vision, Lloyd catches sight of his reflection in one of the nearby crystals. The sphere of pure, concentrated destructive power that by now illuminates the entire city below with its sheer intensity... vanishes instantaneously, pure, unadulterated horror overriding all other senses.
He doesn't recognize the face that stares back.
Horns, actual horns, long and jagged and abhorrently real sprout from the top of his head. His eyes have become large, empty pits of purple; glowing, burning exactly the same as his father's—as his own destructive powers. Lloyd recognizes the face shape, of course, how could he possibly ever forget?
He's seen it in his uncle's ancient textbook, seen it with his very own eyes, seen it in his nightmares, but never, never in a mirror.
It's… it's a monster.
It's him.
No, no, no, no, no… this… this isn't him… this isn't him, this isn't him, this isn't happening, this can't be happening—
Panic infests his body, gripping his lungs as the first thing, they expand and shrink at what is probably an alarmingly unhealthy rate, his vision swims, the imaginary image before his eyes blurring, thundering heartbeat crescendoing to a—
"LLOYD, WATCH OUT!"
The high-pitched scream pierces through the swirling, uncontrollable hurricane of voices running rampant in his head, but Lloyd regains awareness of his surroundings too little too late.
He's welcomed back to reality with a beam of destruction straight to the chest. Unlike before, however, this is a continuous stream of absolutely, indescribable agony, and FSM, the Overlord must have been deliberately holding back earlier to draw out his and his father's demise, to satisfy some twisted desire for amusement that's obviously since been squashed by the near-death experience, because Lloyd feels all of it, the full extent of his power.
It scorches his flesh, but goes even deeper than that, seeping through his muscles, his nerves, even his bones, it's like getting all his blood slowly transmuted into lava, like getting burned alive and simultaneously having all his guts torn to shreds, every atom in his body slowly decomposing, destabilizing, the energy literally ripping him apart—
Lloyd doesn't even try to suppress the ear-splitting, guttural scream that spews forth from his throat. It's a miracle he's never before been tortured in his line of work, but this, this surely has to surpass what even a human's sick imagination could conjure up due to their limitation of being constricted to actual, physical objects.
He tries clawing at his arms to draw blood—anything, anything to distract himself from this unbearable pain—only to find that the razor-sharp claws he thought were on the tips of his fingers have been replaced with blunt, bloodsoaked, but still by all standards, completely ordinary nails.
Not a shroud of relief accompanies the revelation that he's reverted back to normal.
Without the enhanced skin of his oni form, without adrenaline dulling every pain receptor, and without blinding rage to distance himself from reality, Lloyd is left as nothing more than a vulnerable human, a single, defenseless kid totally out of his depth.
He doesn't even have a sword.
He can barely make out the Overlord's voice over his own failed attempts at holding back pained cries.
"I thought your father was the biggest threat to my plans, but it seems I've underestimated you yet again, Son of Garmadon. It's a shame you didn't accept my offer to join me back when you had the chance. Your power is indeed extraordinary, a highly desirable asset for both sides of the balance. But just like The First Spinjitzu master all those years ago, you had a choice, and you chose wrong. Now, you will die here, by my hands."
Lloyd didn't think it possible, but the power pumping through him is somehow amplified, the already excruciating pain just keeps climbing, up, up, up a mountain he's starting to realize he still can't see the top of. His vision goes through a kaleidoscope, an assortment of colorful patterns dance and swirl and blend before his eyes, and then… everything melts away to unveil a completely blank, white background. At last, darkness creeps up on him, infesting his sight from the corners, closing in.
Lloyd can no longer feel his lungs contract or fill with air.
He isn't breathing.
Is… is this it?
Is this all he amounts to? Is this all he accomplishes in the ultimate battle? A bump in the road for the Overlord to ultimately step over, a mere nuisance that put the plans a little behind schedule?
Is he really that insignificant?
Is his name just going to be another one on the enormously long list of casualties that's inevitably gonna stack up very shortly—stack up because he got taken out of the equation and allowed the scale to dip too low in the wrong direction?
Lloyd practically lives with death as his next-door neighbor. He's seen its hideous nature, seen it contort kind people beyond recognition, he's felt it personally—felt its icy claws devouring him.
It's swallowed him whole, until he could no longer see any path forward.
And yet.
And yet he's always overcome it. Learned to swiftly step past it so it doesn't become a permanent roadblock.
All that's not to say he's become desensitized to it, because it's still a devastating consequence of messing up on missions, always there to remind him of what he's truly fighting for, but it's… it's a work hazard for him at this point. He'd discard his life in a heartbeat if it meant saving someone, but never… never did he ever imagine losing his life at the most crucial moment. Of dying a failure rather than a savior.
Because if he lets everyone down when they need him the most, then what does that make him?
Powerless… powerless… powerless…
It's the last coherent string of thought his brain manages to form, so Lloyd holds on to that word, even as it becomes just an assortment of sounds and the actual meaning slips from his mind.
It doesn't hurt any longer. Even the Overlord's full power surging through him is now nothing more than a numbing sort of tingling—it's quite soothing, actually, like white noise to help him feel less lonely in his sleep. Lloyd's senses disengage one by one, the rotten stench of ash and blood vanishing, the vile taste of iron on his tongue dissolving. Darkness closes in, absorbing absolutely every speck of his vision...
Light returns to him as if a switch is suddenly turned on.
Air, indispensable, delicious air fills his mouth all too quickly.
Lloyd chokes as his lungs simultaneously reject and greedily feed on the vital life resource, leaving him coughing and hacking up blood, and with snot gushing from his nose and, FSM, it's worse than when he had to breathe in that poisonous smog back during the Oni invasion.
He tilts his head and looks up through teary eyes, trying to catch a glimpse at what could have possibly compelled the Overlord to spare him after that grand, patronizing speech he just delivered.
There's a figure standing between him and the Overlord. Sword in hand, poised to strike, body taught in a fighting stance, they're… they're protecting him, but that can't be right, not with that hair, not with those clothes, not her, not—
"...H-Harumi..?" He's so weak that the name comes out as no more than a half-broken, pathetic whimper.
She gives no implication that she's even heard him, staring unflinchingly at the Overlord. He greets her seething gaze curiously.
"You choose to protect him? The boy who took everything from you?"
"Well…" Harumi looks down at Lloyd, pursing her lips thoughtfully. "It's not exactly that... But right now, the choice is between him and you. You promised me peace. You promised me that you would prevent any further suffering for the people of Ninjago! In light of all I've done, it may be hard to believe, but I care for this city. I only wanted to end this eternal battle between good and evil, because it's the civilians living here who get caught in the crossfire and end up the most hurt! I just wanted them to be able to live their lives free of conflict, because they've got nothing to do with the pointless strife of the gods! This?"
She gestures dramatically to everything around them. "This isn't what I wanted. Don't think I can't see where this is leading! I'd rather see him strike you down than become a submissive pawn who mindlessly goes along with this insanity!"
The Overlord stands in silence for a second, as if mulling over her words. Then, more intrigued than hurt over the sudden betrayal of his most loyal subordinate, he simply says, "I see."
His palms light up with an impending burst of crackling, destructive energy.
"Then you shall perish along with him."
Panic infiltrates the layer of fog that still clouds Lloyd's mind after his near-death experience. He tries standing, tries pushing himself up to rejoin the fight, to stop her, because what is this if not a blatant suicide attempt—
But he can barely prop himself up with his elbows, much less get his legs to so much as twitch.
"Harumi, what are you doing?" he rasps, but his strength is still woefully depleted and makes him sound more frightened than angry.
Harumi glowers at him, lowering her voice, though she's too worked up to be whispering.
"Snap out of it Lloyd. Get up and use those freaky new oni powers that were clearly working on him, or think of something else that can take him down. I frankly don't care which, I just won't allow you to stand by uselessly when Ninjago needs you again."
She leaps before Lloyd can take another breath, outrage taking over, it's her turn for the glowing eyes and unstoppable, violent rampage, attacking ruthlessly and without pause, not even to catch her breath—she uses her smaller size and greater speed as an advantage to maneuver underneath the Overlord's legs, for jumping onto his shoulders and cutting at his face.
In spite of her best efforts, however, it's painfully evident just how outclassed she is.
Her sword can't penetrate the obsidian armor, barely even nicking the outer crust of the Overlord's body, getting nowhere near the vulnerable core. Being just a step too slow eventually catches up to her, and the Overlord swings a massive arm, managing to close his equally as massive fingers around her body in a crushing grip. He lifts her off the ground, and though she snarls and hacks desperately at his hand with her sword, the Overlord shows no hint of feeling any of it.
"Fool, did you think you could defeat me with my own power?"
Harumi answers with a strangled cry for air. The Overlord only tightens his hold around her, and she lets out a blood-curdling scream as Lloyd hears something akin to multiple twigs being snapped.
"HARUMI!"
Please… not again…
Lloyd bashes an already beat-up fist into the rough terrain beneath him, hard enough to undoubtedly call forth black and blue and yellow marks later on—if he lives long enough to see that happen, that is—breaking through the delicate skin of his lips, drawing blood, drawing forth pain, practically begging for a burst of power to surface.
But there's no anger, no fuel for the necessary, murderous thoughts to make the long, exhaustive journey to the surface. There's nothing, only absolute, crippling terror keeping him frozen in place.
His entire body trembles, and though Lloyd tries to convince his stupid, useless brain that it's from his exhaustive efforts to get his butt into gear, his good conscience knows better, especially when the current surge of helplessness is so strikingly similar to what he experienced just moments prior when it was his father in Harumi's position.
The Overlord cultivates a fistful of pulsating destructive energy, letting it expand until it's nearly too bright to look at with the naked eye, raising the arm with the fully charged power blast, preparing to unleash it all upon Harumi's limp form.
"NO!"
Lloyd reaches out a single, feeble human hand that's too short to make a damn difference.
"Anybody have any last words?"
"Uhm, no? I mean, way to be grim..."
"No you doofus, it's called being realistic. Just take a look at that gigantic floating thing in the sky and tell me with a straight face that you think we have good odds of surviving."
"Hmph! Well, ok, fine, but is it really so wrong to want to inspire a little bit of hope here—"
"According to my calculations… the chances of any of us making it out of this predicament with our lives intact are exceedingly low."
"Well then, in that case… I would just like to say it has been an honor being your brother. I couldn't have wished for a better team, or a better family. No matter what happens from here on out, let us face it together."
An echo of 'together' rings out.
Four warriors.
Four hunking pieces of gold.
It's really no different from how it all started. None of them should have even been united in the first place, but extraordinary circumstances sewed their paths together, soon becoming impossible to untangle. Now they must stand more closely united than ever.
Gold ascends like a shooting star across the black sky.
Time screeches to a near standstill. Every sound is muted by Lloyd's booming heartbeat. All the burning buildings and the smoke-stained sky, all that isn't the Overlord's hulking form and Harumi's comparably feeble one as good as invisible to him. His breathing picks up pace, eventually matching that of a rabid beast, every blink is accompanied by a flash of purple.
Lloyd's unfurled hand claws at the dirt, resolution overtaking every ounce of hesitation and worthless self-preservation.
He doesn't want to let any more people die.
What's losing his sanity, losing his humanity, losing himself compared to losing someone else? As much as it thoroughly terrifies him to die a failure, the only thing that scares him more is living as one. Watching everything that's ever mattered torn away before his eyes while he lies uselessly on the ground to witness the consequences of his incompetence… it's worse than the torture the Overlord inflicted on him, worse than anything Harumi's ever done, because after all of that, in the end, there's at least always been somebody else to pick up the pieces and make him whole again.
He'll do anything…
First was his father, now Harumi. Who would be next? The hundreds of allies fighting below? The innocent civilians that probably still haven't been evacuated? Sensei Wu? Nya? Kai? Eventually, the Overlord's gonna run out of lives to take, and that would be it. He'd be alone.
Anything to make sure he's never trampled on, never dismissed, never underestimated again.
His next words bear a stronger resemblance to an animalistic howl than any sound a human voice should be capable of producing.
Even become the monster himself.
"Don't you dare touch her!"
Lloyd awakens some deeply hidden stash of energy he wasn't even aware existed, but the sudden infusion of adrenaline is beyond revitalizing, enthralling anger numbs every injury down to the tiniest cut, every thought is compressed down into non-existence—replaced with a feral instinct telling him to fight, to strike, to destroy, purple consumes his world, and—
He's blinded for real.
Gold, dazzling, ethereal, gold inexplicably strikes like lightning from a clear sky, circling him, surrounding him in a golden tornado.
Frightened, Lloyd stops in his tracks and screws his eyes shut, bending down and hugging his arms in a protective motion, at first thinking the power is out to harm him.
It takes no more than a few tense breaths to realize that isn't the case. Rather than pain, it's an entirely different sensation that graces his skin. His body absorbs the golden light like a sponge rather than rejecting it, welcoming inside something all too familiar.
His entire nervous system prickles and buzzes with irrepressible life, lightning tickling his brain and awakening his mind to a state of hyper-awareness.
Metaphysical roots sprout from underneath his feet, stone and dirt and all the organic material present at the Oni temple suddenly become visible, his eyes open to a network of attack opportunities right beneath him.
Ice courses through his veins, calming every violent, raging thought in his head, soothing every injury he's received—numbing, healing, in all the best ways.
Warmth, the invaluable warmth. It blossoms in his chest, in his heart, the source of fire's power. It wraps around him, embracing him like a warm, comforting hug from his big brother, and it's what finally allows him to wind down enough to make space in his brain for rational thought.
It's been so long that he'd almost forgotten.
Lloyd wants to cry.
"Impossible…"
For once Lloyd is in complete agreement with the Overlord. He stares, nothing short of astounded, at the familiar golden glow enveloping his body.
The power of the Ultimate Master. A power Lloyd thought had long since been lost for good.
"True power is never lost, only given away when you think you have none."
He thought he'd made sense of her words back then. He thought she'd been referring exclusively to his element, to the remnants of a power so immense it couldn't survive without splitting up into smaller, more manageable parts.
He thought it'd been broken beyond repair, but here it is, back in one piece like it was never split in the first place.
But why, Lloyd can't stop himself from questioning, no matter how miraculous its sudden, unannounced return may be. Why would it pick now as the perfect time to make a glorious clutch save, as, you know, opposed to every other time Ninjago's been in mortal peril?
Actually, Lloyd does know the answer to that. It only takes a split second of actually giving it an inkling of thought to crack this sorry excuse for a mystery.
After all, the elements of creation perfectly represent their wielders. Lloyd is, however acutely aware of the hidden implications, because if the elements of creation are here, with him, then…
Gosh, he loves his brothers. Even now, when they aren't even present at his exact location, they still refuse to budge, always supporting, always resilient, always the immovable foundation underneath him that refuses to give in no matter how hard he caves.
He was a fool for thinking this was his battle alone. He's not here to fight on anyone's behalf, but to end the conflict that they're all already a part of. Everybody's fighting. Lloyd is just another piece of the puzzle, he's needed to complete it, but he's nothing without hundreds of other pieces to surround him.
Letting his eyelids fall shut, he breathes out, sparing his heart a few precious seconds to calm down. When he cracks his eyes open again, he directs his gaze in the direction of one of the crystals, ready to face the reality he knows is in store.
Empty pits glowing a bloodthirsty purple stare back at him. It unnerves him still, how this face is actually his, how it blinks in tandem with him and turns as he rotates his neck, but this time he isn't overcome with devastation at the disturbing sight.
He still has a choice. There's no outside force forcing their will upon him. It's not like being possessed, it's not like his true self is being suppressed to a state of helplessness while some unwelcome invader is speaking words that aren't his through his mouth. It is all coming from him—all of it, it's feelings he's long since buried in the farthest corners of his mind, so deep down even he himself had dismissed the possibility of them ever resurfacing.
Some bratty child.
The destined savior.
A fearless leader.
He's born so many titles throughout his life, so really, what's one more?
It's his decision how he's gonna end this, and this…violence? Anger? Revenge? It's not him. It's not the path he's gonna pursue. It was too dark to see before, but with the golden glow now thrumming and pulsating power just beneath his fingertips, with the efforts of his family and every ally they've ever come across as a result of their misadventures, there are stars and a bright full moon lighting up the night sky, and all his options have become clear.
This isn't how he's going to end it.
The golden light gets to work ebbing away at the darkness, almost as if feeding on it, devouring it eagerly. It's like he's got an ant infestation in his bloodstream, though it's not uncomfortable. When the sensation at long last fades away, familiar green eyes are all that's left, the face of someone far younger, far more pathetic, but far less alone than that monstrous mask could ever hope to be.
Lloyd… snickers, struck by a sudden, explosive fit of manic laughter, not because he's lost his mind, but, ironically, because he almost just did. To think… that in his quest to destroy darkness, he almost became it himself. It's so beautifully poetic that Lloyd can't help but find it absolutely hysterical.
He cocks his head at the Overlord and presents him with a tilted smile, a confidence different from the one from before pumping through him.
"Well this certainly looks familiar, doesn't it? Remember what happened last time it was just the two of us, high above Ninjago City like this?"
The Overlord shrieks, casting Harumi's unconscious body aside like a broken toy and launching at him in response.
Lloyd halts his desperate charge with ease, blowing him back with a powerful ray of gold moments before the Overlord can claw his entire face off. While he is still dazed, Lloyd bolts forward, jumping into the air, braiding his fingers together, and raising the make-believe club above his head.
Time slows down before the moment of impact. The actual hit is accompanied by a satisfying crunch, as the Overlord's helmet cracks on the pavement, a small crater left below his body. He howls, though is only knocked to the ground briefly, doing nothing more than glare at Lloyd before hitting him with his own blast of blistering power.
A beam struggle ensues, though it doesn't last long, with Lloyd's far brighter light and unwavering conviction soon cutting through the Overlord's pitiful last-ditch effort.
Seeing the Overlord flung back, enveloped in a sphere of what he knows is excruciatingly painful energy, now that brings back memories.
Neither warrior is left standing after that ordeal. Lloyd is down to one knee, breathless, wiping away a trail of blood from his mouth with his sleeve. Unlike him, the Overlord has no corporal form with organs that are dependent on oxygen to survive, but he lies slumped against a wall of crystals, unmoving.
Lloyd knows better than to assume he's totally done for, however. It's a mistake he himself has been saved by countless times over the years—arrogant villains letting their pride override their caution. It isn't over, but, FSM, for the life of him, Lloyd wishes the Overlord would just stay. Down, just this once.
"Face it, Overlord! It's over!" he yells, more as a way of communicating the undeniable facts than an attempt at threatening him.
It's never occurred to him to ever try to solve their issues diplomatically, though, it's not a strategy that's been wholly unsuccessful in the past. The Overlord is unresponsive, so Lloyd ignites both hands with globes of energy, ready to be fired at a moment's notice, gets up, and approaches him with a fearless stride.
The Overlord doesn't look up to face his nearing enemy, showing no sign that he has any plans of resisting. He snickers instead, a low, gruff laughter that soon evolves into a full-blown round of manic cackling.
"Oh, son of Garmadon, after all these years, you still remain so delightfully naïve! This conflict has lasted a millennium! It couldn't be further from over!"
He raises a hand, clenching it at the sky.
Lloyd doesn't even have time to react before an ear-shattering boom tears through the realm, the clouds themselves bending to the Overlord's will, forming an upside-down tornado, from which it soon rains purple lightning.
The light in his hands fizzles out, his greatest weapon now beyond useless.
Instead of Lloyd, however, the Overlord's target appears to be the crystals scattered all across the city. Soon Lloyd is surrounded on all sides by a ring of destructive lighting, it thickens the air with a buzzing static, the heat is worse than being trapped in the heart of an active volcano, he's blinded by the sheer volume of it, he can't see, he can't breathe, he can't stand, he can barely make out the Overlord's booming voice over the ocean of deafening thunder.
"I will obliterate you and everything you stand for! Darkness. Will. Prevail!"
The world is quite literally falling apart at the seams around him. If ever anybody decided to define the word "doomsday" and make a visual depiction of it, this would quite literally be it.
And yet…
Lloyd isn't afraid.
His breathing is ragged only from the unprecedented amount of physical strain he's had to endure today. From the outset, he probably couldn't have chosen a worse time in his life to let down his guard. Still, Lloyd opts to close his eyes, letting the chaos of the active warzone fade into nothing more than a faint, faraway background racket, all to allow himself ample opportunity to think straight.
He didn't really get the point behind the glamorous crystal makeover when he first saw it, as menacing it was. But, in spite of having his mind fully occupied by other matters while he was locked up in the Oni temple, he's still been able to observe their utilization up close, and, even if unintentionally, he's started to piece together a reason for their involvement in this battle.
If Lloyd had to put it simply, these… crystals—nobody has provided him with a name, quite annoyingly—they're conductive, the polar opposite of vengestone. Instead of restricting the flow of elemental powers, they transmit it—amplify it as well, a way for the Overlord to extend the reach of his powers. That's their secret. That's why they're everywhere, that's why there's an entire army made of the stuff. The Overlord is dependent on them at this stage, as, without them, his inferiority to the golden power is plain for all to see.
Though the ancient evil is immune to mortal weaknesses such as age and natural death, it seems repeatedly having his ass handed to him has left permanent scars. He needed Garmadon as a vessel to return after his battle with the First Spinjitzu Master. He needed Borg's technology and the Ultimate Power just to stand up to them back when they were still a group of inexperienced amateurs. And now… he even sunk as low as resurrecting a corpse, yet again needing an artificial body just to keep himself anchored to the world of the living.
Even the mightiest, sharpest swords do not survive if simply engaged in enough battles. Even if it doesn't shatter, it's gonna be chipped, it'll rust, it'll grow brittle and weaker as time and defeats take their toll. As much as the Overlord is a very real threat, he's also handicapped, he's alone, and with every last of his tricks exposed, the end of the war he himself initiated is very much within reach.
Their biggest problem is that he always just seems to fall into a slumber, his strength gone but his life force intact. There may be truthfulness to his previous statement—even if Lloyd defeats him now, what would it matter if he could just reemerge at a later date, with a new and improved plan, a new set of powers, and an army of subordinates in tow?
How do they finally end this millennia-long conflict? How do they exterminate such a pesky parasite for good?
Lloyd opens his eyes, studying the Overlord's towering body, the threat that he and the massive, fizzling, purple tsunami that could crash over him and his beloved home at any second poses, struggling to see past the very literal, unconquerable wall that's standing in his way.
Light and darkness. Oni and Dragons. It's a loop of chaos that only ever circles back around to the beginning, an eternal cycle of conflict that's never going to end unless one side completely eradicates the other.
That's how the Overlord presented his cause to Harumi, but it's not quite that simple is it?
He's become a prime example of that himself just now. If even Ninjago's destined savior could warp into an unrecognizable monster, then is anybody really safe from their inner demons? After all, everybody's felt jealous or angry or distraught at least once in their life.
The darkness is there, in the cracks and crevices of a person's soul. Taking it from people would just mean living in an artificial, molded world where smiles and happiness are the only way to emote, where people wouldn't have likes or dislikes because they'd be fine with anything, wouldn't get to mourn lost ones, wouldn't get to express or feel the emotions that truly make people alive.
Living isn't a monotone ordeal. It entails thousands upon thousands of colors, some far more vivid and noticeable than others, but for every plain and easily identifiable shade, there are equally as many nuances still left to be discovered, and each one is equally as important to living a fulfilling, purposeful life.
Completely obliterating every last shadow in every corner of the world simply isn't an option.
So, in that case, what does it take to win this battle?
Of course, that's obvious.
Though his throat is already cracked and rubbed raw from all the abuse he's dealt his voice today, Lloyd lets out one last, earsplitting cry. Just as the Overlord lets out the discharge he's been growing to an incomprehensibly enormous size, Lloyd retaliates, shrouding the whole world with the purifying light of brilliant gold.
