The walk to Cash Street was long, but that was preferable, as most of the shops wouldn't open until at least nine, when most ghosts would be out of their pajamas and shopping. As such, we took our time— Garmadon and I by walking at a leisurely pace, and Morro by flying ahead at a not-so-leisurely pace and then doubling back around again over and over.

We didn't talk much, either. Garmadon seemed somewhat lost in thought, and although Morro attempted to start a conversation several times, he eventually got bored and switched his focus to seeing how fast he could fly to the end of the street and back (and then while we passed through the park, from tree to tree). To be honest, I was perfectly content with the situation. The view was astounding: I never woke up in time for the sunrise since dying, but I was starting to think I should make a habit of it. The sky was mostly an array of blues and purples, with twinkling white dots still visible as if they were holes poked through the very fabric of space itself, and a dim red light from where the sun was emerging was slowly pushing the cooler colors away to make space for itself. As if pushing away a great body of water, the light became more visible by the minute, as the red made way for an even softer orange light that spilled across the treetops and bathed the leaves in a glow that made their colors apparent. The leaves, too, were changing with the sky: only yesterday they had seemed green and fresh, but today traces of color were starting to show on some of the older leaves. Seasons worked a bit differently in the Departed Realm, due to the changed physics (which I had been meaning to study), so it was reasonable to assume that by Dotted the whole park might be completely engulfed in a sea of orange, red, and brown— save for the Central Willow, which was green all year long. The leaves all seemed to flutter in reaction to my thoughts for a moment as a light wind blew past and reminded me that it was still rather chilly, and that I should have perhaps brought something warmer than my usual attire. I stole a glance at Garmadon, but he seemed less disturbed by the temperature than me, as usual. Then I stole a glance at Morro and realized it was probably his frantic flying which had caused the wind in the first place.

"Morro, is it possible for you to warm up the air?" I called gently to the boy once he returned from one of his laps. He shrugged.

"Sorry, no can do. I'm the Master of Wind, not of temperature," he replied, then used the tree I was passing as a launch pad and shot himself forward again to reach who-knows-what destination before circling back around.

I wrapped my lab coat a bit tighter against my body and tried to forget about the cold. I looked down at the grass we were treading on and wondered how long it had been since I studied the grass. I remembered being fascinated as a child by how complex each individual blade was, and by how much of it could exist in a single area. My mom often caught me wandering by the side of the road to examine what I thought was some unusually large clump or a spot where the grass was discolored. Thinking back on it, I probably looked like I was wandering off at random. I chuckled slightly and wondered which had been more annoying, my unusual interest in grass or my obsession with books that had developed only slightly after.

I had succeeded in turning my thoughts away from the chill, but apparently I was still shivering, because Garmadon noticed me and asked quietly (as if not to wake anyone up, though we weren't near any houses), "Are you cold?"

"Hm? Oh, it's all right. Nothing compared to being up at the top of the lighthouse surrounded by the freezing sea in the early mornings, that's for sure," I chuckled. Garmadon frowned.

"You should have brought a warmer coat. Here, hurry your pace, then we can find someplace to sit inside," he said in his same gruff voice.

"Really, I'm okay," I laughed sheepishly. Attempting to veer the subject away from myself, I added, "You don't seem affected by the cold."

He shrugged. "As a sensei, I spent many years training my body to endure all sorts of conditions without repercussions. I tried to pass some of that same training onto Lloyd, but he was a little less enthusiastic about it than I was."

I was about to respond, but Morro (returning once again from a lap and landing on the ground to take a break) cut in with his own question.

"What about Zane?"

I blinked and tilted my head, a bit confused at the abrupt question. "Come again?"

"Zane," he repeated, and motioned to Garmadon. "He said Lloyd didn't like temperature training. Wu tried to teach me the same thing, back on Ninjago. I'm curious if Zane experiences cold— you know, 'cuz he's a nindroid and all. I mean, you told us you built him, so you should know if he can sense the cold."

"O-oh, well," I said, still a bit taken aback, "He can definitely tell when it's cold, but I don't think it bothers him. I mean, Master of Ice and all…"

"Oh, right, duh," Morro laughed. It seemed like he was trying to conceal some embarrassment, and I didn't blame him. I was surprised that he took any interest in the ninja (although I was always more than happy to talk about my son). I wondered briefly if he'd learned more about the ninja while in Ninjago than he was letting on.

"Say," Garmadon said to me, suddenly changing the subject, "You said everyone here starts out with 'an amount' of free credit. How much is that, exactly?" I wondered why Garmadon had changed the subject so abruptly when we might have actually learned something about Morro if he'd continued to talk. Perhaps he was oblivious to that possibility.

"Oh, well, it depends on what the circumstances of your death were, but you should have plenty. It's only once you start your work period that you need to learn how to ration your credit," I explained.

"That, or you make friends with an old guy who gives you free cookies," Morro laughed. He was smirking, but cheerful.

"Oy…" Garmadon muttered, and rubbed his head as if getting a headache. I decidedly neglected to point out the fact that Morro had more than repaid me with all the food he'd bought from Trader Godot's.

"Ah!" The teen exclaimed. "There's the end of the park! Cash Street is just past there!" The end of the park was barely in our sightline, but Morro made off like a rocket, whipping up a gust of wind to increase his agility. I remembered reading something about a Master of Speed while doing research on the elemental masters a while back, and wondered why there needed to be one while Morro existed. Surely that was like having a Master of Heat while Kai was around.

After a few seconds of silence, Morro's voice rang out from the edge of the park. "Doc, Sensei, get over here! They've started hanging decorations!"

I smiled and quickened my pace, nodding to Garmadon to do the same. There was no real rush, as the chances of finding an open shop were still slim to none, but Morro's excitement was a bit contagious. Personally, I found his still-youthful excitement refreshing.

"Hey!" Garmadon exclaimed, as we caught up to Morro. "Get down from… Wait, are those lanterns?"

Morro was perched like a bird atop one of two large posts that formed a gate over Cash Street. Streetlights were planted every couple of yards on either end of the road in the middle, and at the moment, long strings of lanterns were hung between them, glowing in what was left of the morning darkness. Just behind the lights were rows of shops, all different sizes and varieties, which all appeared to be closed save for one café on the corner nearest to us.

"Looks like the town's finally starting to decorate for Dotted," Morro said, nodding in response to Garmadon's question. He then looked at me hopefully and I smirked.

"No cookies yet, young man," I said, shaking my head. Morro stuck out his tongue in a fashion that definitely did not imply him to be a "young man."

"So are those the lanterns that you— um, that we— receive updates from…?" Garmadon asked. Morro and I shook our heads simultaneously.

"Those won't arrive until the living send them up," I said. "These are just replicas to get into the spirit of things."

"Stop stealing my jokes!" Morro huffed, crossing his arms.

"What?"

"My jokes. Get into the spirit of things?" he said, rolling his eyes.

"Oh… yes, of course. I meant to do that," I chuckled. By now, Garmadon had turned his attention away from us and to the café on the corner.

"Shall we head inside?" he asked, already starting to walk towards it. "It's likely warmer in there than it is out here."

"Er, yes, thank you," I said, realizing he was concerned for me. Morro hopped down from the top of the gate as casually as he'd hopped off the kitchen table, landing easily on his feet without so much as flinching.

I didn't even realize quite how cold I had been until we walked into the nice, heated space and took a table near the back. The only other person in the café was a somewhat brute-looking, tattoo-covered thug with an apron on, leaning against the register counter with a tired, bored expression. He glanced up at us and nodded when we entered to affirm that we could stay awhile, but didn't say a word other than that. I assumed he spent more time at that counter than he liked.

"So," Morro said, leaning back and tipping his chair in a way that felt familiar but I couldn't quite place, "once the other shops open, what should we be looking for?"

"Well, we came here to get a game," I said, "so we should probably go to either a game shop if they have one, or a bookstore."

"They have games in bookstores?" the teen asked, cocking his head.

"Of course. Games, books, music… basically anything you could ever want in life, besides food, and sometimes that, too. Have you never been in a bookstore before?" I replied.

Morro hesitated. "I mean… ancient libraries and stuff, while I was looking for the Tomb of the First Spinjitzu Master… but never just casual ones."

I gasped and put my hand to my heart, mocking a heart attack. "Why, you haven't lived until you've experienced the wonders of a bookstore! I'm glad this is being remedied!"

"First of all, he definitely has lived, he's dead," Garmadon cut in, "and second of all, didn't you spend most of your life in a metal tree?"

"Hey, now," I argued, "I spent most of my college days holed up in the local bookstore studying my heart out. I happen to have rather fond memories of the place. It's where I got some of my best work done."

"Well, how was I supposed to know?" he retorted. "You never talk about your college days, except that you graduated early."

"That's true," Morro added, which was surprising considering he was basically teaming with Garmadon by doing so. "You told us a lot about yourself back when we first came to your pad, but you kinda skipped over your entire childhood."

"There's not much to—" I started, but Garmadon cut me off.

"I think he's avoiding talking about someone," he said, smirking a little and elbowing Morro. Morro's eyes lit up with excitement and mischief, and for a moment the two almost looked related.

"Ooh, was there a girl involved?" the teen asked, leaning forward with a very teenage smile on his face.

"Oh, hush," I said in a teasing voice back, deciding to play along. "You never talk about your childhood, either."

"Hmph." He crossed his arms and leaned back again, this time also kicking his feet up onto the table. "Okay, change of topic."

I suddenly realized why his odd pose had felt familiar, but my thoughts were quickly brought back by Garmadon asking if we knew if there actually was a bookstore on Cash Street.

"Wasn't there one a while ago called… uh… Chernobyl Charms, or something like that?" Morro asked. Suddenly, a gruff voice interrupted the conversation.

"Charms of Chernobyl." I looked up to see the tattooed worker walking towards us. Apparently he'd been listening to the conversation.

"Well that name makes no sense," Morro complained, but the man thankfully didn't seem to hear him.

"It's down the street quite a ways, but you can't miss it. There's a huge prop book on top of the building, you know, like the kind that only exists in cartoons," he said, nodding in the direction it was located.

"Ah, thank you very much," I said, trying not to let his voice and appearance unsettle me.

"Sure. It don't open 'till nine, though," he said in a still-tired tone, and walked back over to his register. I wondered why they made him open the place so early when nobody was up yet.

"It's settled, then," Garmadon said, lowering his voice a bit (perhaps out of habit when being eavesdropped on). "At nine, we'll head out of here and find that bookstore so we can find a game to play."

"And then I'll beat both of you," Morro said, grinning confidently.

I grinned back. "We'll see about that."

(A/N: My lame puns using dark/death-related rhymes continue. Apparently everyone in the Departed Realm has a dark sense of humor XP I tried to make this chapter a little longer for you guys because your reviews are all so sweet and I love you all so much; we'll see if I actually accomplished the length I was aiming for, though XP)