Every step feels a little heavier now. There's pressure upon him, the wary sensation having him feel as small as the insects the warlord has always compared him to. The darkness of the forest is actually foreboding now, every crunching twig and leaf so loud to his ears, he finds it a measure difficult to shove down the building dread for what must be done. What's required, now.
"You're sure about this." Whether it was a question or an observation from Robo-Jack; it to his right, walking with more firm a stride; Jack doesn't know, but he still replies.
"Of course." Eyes closing, he enjoys another comforting gust of wind rushing over and past them, its feel reminding him of his evil lair's locale.
Still, he sighs when the natural force calms to a still, finding that his eyes want to see the ground when he opens them. "The only way I'm under Chase Young's heel is as a corpse. And if he's angry about it, he'll more than likely be quick about it, too."
A nervous laugh leaves him, it not exactly as evil as he'd like, but it only lasts a second or two, and it's not like he's anyone to impress anyways.
Not that he's ever held up on that front before.
All the more reason this plan is a,
"Win-Win."
The robot nods.
Leaving silence.
Silence, wind, silence, wind.
Calm, dark, somber silence, his heart beat so dull to his ears, but his smile small and true for a time that seems now a life-time ago.
Maybe. Just maybe. If he's lucky, just once.
There really is something else.
Not that the boy snorting at himself has ever held much hope for it. At least, not ever after one true and final evaluation.
'Oh well...'
He might as well keep moving. Keep planning. Keep going.
All the way to the end that his hands shake for.
He makes fists of them, though. Pockets them. Hides it. Tries to ignore it.
RJ's up for bouncing plans on. The distraction is welcome. Relevant, too. And if something he can't shake off runs down his cheeks, there's not a shred of acknowledgment to it.
The perfect evil side-kick.
A cold and pure intelligence, ready and rearing to go.
And…
In time…
Active heli-packs deactivate, the evil duo landing a few yards away from the beginning of a vast desert-land.
The evil duo take in winding dunes, them going for as far as the eye/optic can see, with RJ scanning for mysticism and Jack taking in the horizon.
There are splotches of strong magic, out in the far distance, Jack seeing them as staticky white light.
"Oh great…" Jack mutters, that dread returning ten-fold.
RJ frowns. "Yep: More of our old pals from before."
"Of course Chase has more of them…" Jack mutters.
Seeing two of the six illuminations flicker out of being, they each leap behind a tree.
The evil genius scurries to his feet, back pressing to bark. He calms his breathing, next, looking across himself to see RJ also standing with its back pressed to a tree-trunk.
"Okay." One breath in, one breath out. Rinse. Repeat. "Time to test a hypothesis."
Robo-Jack smirks, the evilness of its look helping Jack to somewhat mirror the look. "Elaborate, vile fiend."
"Okay." In, out. In, out. "If Chase was able to feel T-Bot with the clouds, which I do believe to be the case, then what about T-Bot's radar?"
The robot chuckles darkly.
"Exactly." Have a little laugh. Take another breath. Let it out. Relax. "Have T-Bot scan a three kilometer area ten klicks East, but make it brief to give a sense of stealth. You'll wait here and see what happens."
Ending on that evil note, the evil genius and RJ take a peak into the desert-land, seeing the glowing warrior demons still to be far, far away in the sandy distance.
"T-Bot's on its way…" RJ relays.
This time, when those distant lights go out, the evil duo dare to keep watching, seeing them flicker back into being in different areas, with some of them remaining gone.
"How will we know if this has had an effect, though?" RJ challenges. "Unless the enemy goes by, we'll have no way of knowing. And even then, we'll need replication for confirmation."
"Be that as it may, you're to stay here until I say otherwise."
'Luck was always going to be a deciding factor here.'
"Understood," RJ says.
The evil genius sighs, head rearing back until it thumps against bark.
'Okay. Here we go.'
He pulls the Shroud of Shadows out of his trench coat.
"See you in a few hours."
With a whisper of the mystical cloth's name, Jack wraps himself in it, before slowly walking out into the desert.
The pace is too slow, though. He must be quicker. Time is of essence. But walking at even a normal pace only spikes the fear.
A distraction in need, he figures a relative one to be best and brings up his watch, grimacing for the stronger wind that bats against him, and powers through a few menus to have a map displayed.
Seeing where T-Bot's faux ping lands on it, he judges with shallow breaths his location in seconds, measuring then the distance between him and the forest on the other end of this outreaching patch of desert.
Already, he can feel sand getting into annoying places, so anything more than twenty miles is going to seriously suck… … …
'Twenty-three-point-five…'
Expression blank, Jack turns off his watch, puts a tense hand in his trench coat pockets, and just keeps walking. Yeah, the demon warriors are still teleporting around, but with the howling wind trying so hard to stuff his eyes with sand, this evil genius is finding it rather easy to focus more on his agitation than fear.
He's sure to avoid the tops of the sandy dunes, though, seeing as the demon warriors all seem to love heights so much.
Although doing so certainly does irk the evil genius.
The walk was already going to be hell, but now it's gone and frozen over, too.
'Just my luck…'
Still, it's not like the dark desert is not easy on the eyes. The wind isn't, but when able to, he quite enjoys the cool, dark setting. The flowing gray-black clouds only favor it, lending such enhancement to the evil of-
Current.
Electric, illuminating current that shocks Jack to a still.
The goth doesn't even look. He just stands. He stands, breathes, and counts back from ten-thousand as light flickers along the sand, emanating not far enough from his left, from atop a sandy peak.
'N-Nine-thousand-nine-hundred-ninety-nine. Nine-t-thousand-nine-hundred-ninety-eight. Nine-thousand-nine-h-hundred-ninety-seven.'
The flapping of his trench coat and the Shroud of Shadows is getting in the way of his counting, however, sounding loud as sirens to his ears.
'Nine-thousand-nine-hundred-n-ninety-six.'
He wraps the Shroud of Shadows tighter around himself, bunching the excess of it into tight fists.
The flapping ends.
'Nine-t-thousand-nine-hundred-ninety-five.'
Still, light shines upon the area.
'Nine-thousand-nine-hundred-ninety-four. Nine-thousand-nine-hundred-ninety-three.''
Expression blank, yet not as tight, he moves on to the next number.
'Nine-thousand-nine-hundred-ninety-two. Nine-thousand-nine-hundred-ninety-one.'
His breathing relaxes.
'Nine-thousand-nine-hundred-ninety.'
Slowly, the goth turns his head, seeing in his peripheral the demon warrior standing atop the sandy dune to his left.
'Nine-thousand-nine-hundred-eighty-nine.'
The monster has a hand on the hilt of its blade, back facing the goth as its tiger-head helmeted cranium slowly scans the lands ahead of itself.
'Nine-thousand-nine-hundred-eighty-eight.'
Having seen enough, he turns his head back ahead.
Just in time, too, because the monster teleports away right then.
The extreme dark returns, all around him.
Shuddering, Jack shakily resumes his walk, thinking, 'Man… why did I have to get stuck with force recon…?'
…
…
He glares ahead, finding his jaw to already be clenched.
'Oh yeah, that's right: The losers would screw it up, and then I'd be right back to evil square one – the darkest square of them all.'
That, and a certain… fiery beauty… kinda already came close enough to being snuffed out.
The wind's suddenly cooling his cheeks.
He shakes his head, not liking the sensation.
'Better me than them,' he settles on.
Plus, if he actually does perish… then she won't… and neither does a pretty cool dragon… that even now for some reason doesn't look at him with hate in his reptilian eyes…
'…!'
The return of light startles him to an immediate halt.
The count-down resumes, red eyes shutting tight.
He makes it down to nine-thousand-nine-hundred-seventy-five before the thing finally flickers out of being, reappearing he knows, nor cares, where - only that it's not nearby.
Anger. It builds fast, then, warring with fear's grip on him.
'Too bad,' he decides, scowling ahead, 'If I make it out of this crap alive, I'm not wasting what She gave me. Not for them. Not for anyone.'
Himself included.
Seeing the rice to be done, Dojo blows out the fire below it.
"You can't seriously expect us to trust that," Raimundo says.
Dojo snorts. "I can, and I do." In one hand, he has four bowls held between his fingers, with a spoon in his other. As he scoops portions of rice into each bowl, he says, "Just like how I can also expect you and Kimiko to explain to me why all of a sudden Spicer is more mature than you two." And before either one of them can get their shocked mouths open, he points the spoon at one, then the other, remarking, "Three years. Three years you two have been training at the temple, and this is what you've learned from Master Fung and I?"
Wind and Fire's mouths click shut.
The teens slump on either side of a somber Clay, looking appropriately ashamed of themselves, now.
"I already took care of the whole trust issue, so whatever the problem is with you two, I suggest you both get over it before Chase finds a way to use it against us. Understood?"
"Yes, Dojo," Kimiko and Rai murmur.
"I don't think you do," Dojo retorts, earning all their eyes, then. "You think this is gonna go down like Wuya did, don't you?" Their lack of denial earns a huff. "You have no idea how lucky we were there. Wuya was playing with us. You in particular, Raimundo."
The boy looks away, clearly not liking the reminder of his folly.
"I don't know what she was playing at, mind you, but I'm certain that had she not been messing around, we wouldn't all be talking right now."
"Think you can lay it any harder on me, Dojo?" The Brazilian kicks at a small shrub.
"This isn't about you," Dojo deadpans, "This is about right here, right now. You think Chase Young is playing? You think the fates he chose for guys were just random?" The dragon snorts nastily. "No. Not by a long shot. Chase used to be one of us. That's why every enemy we've faced so far has wielded lighting."
"We don't stand much a chance as it is," Clay pipes up, looking then to his fellow Xiaolin Apprentices. "Why do ya'll think he came by? To see us?"
"No," Dojo answers, regaining their attention, "The only puzzle to any of this, the only one he didn't plan for, is Spicer." For which a sardonic smile finds its way on Dojo's face. "He never saw it coming. Not that any of us did. And right now, just like with Wuya two years ago, we need Spicer." The smile turns a measure deadpan. "Again."
Forlorn, but nodding, Kimiko sighs. "Alright, Dojo. I still find him repulsive," she's sure to say, "but you're right. Working without him will only worsen our chances… so I'll just have to put up with him."
Nodding, Dojo smiles, the look turning impassive upon him then regarding the Wind Dragon.
"Okay..." Rai mutters, still looking off to the side.
Dojo raises a brow. "'Okay' what?" he prompts.
"I'll work with him," the Brazilian says, meeting Dojo's eyes with more or less the proper resolve. "I'll work with him, but only until after this is all over."
"That's the idea," Dojo replies, passing out bowls of rice and beans to his kids.
"Now eat quick. We have to be moving soon."
"Thank you, Dojo," his children chorus.
A fire lights in his chest.
"You're welcome."
If there's one thing the kid walking through the dark desert never saw coming, it's hating another member of the Heylin more than that wretched witch. She has so much going against her, that it just never seemed anything less than inconceivable. Bad breath, bad face, bad attitude, bad sense of evil – you name it, she marred it.
'It's also true, though,' thinks the goth shielding his eyes from cool, sandy gusts, 'that I was working with her for way too long.'
Two years and maybe a month or two.
Insanity.
But what's more insane is that now Chase is beating her at her own wickedness.
How is it even possible…? The guy's a total fake! 'He didn't even go evil right! He just drank some stupid sou-'
Light flashes across the sand.
He stops dead in his tracks.
He gives the monster no thought. No attention. He just stares ahead, expression blank and his breathing calming with every number that passes through his head.
The seconds seem to tick by as if minutes, though, and minutes, hours.
Still… all he has to do… all he can do… is stand… where he is… and count back in his head, waiting…
…
…
…Until finally, the demon warrior teleports elsewhere.
A deep breath, a cursory glance around his dark, sandy setting, and Jack's once again back at it.
'Soup! He drank! Soup! How is that legit?! You wanna tell me that, huh, Loser Young?!'
Amid the angry consideration, the evil genius gives a scowling look at his watch, rolling his eyes into his skull when seeing he still has twenty miles to go.
'I'm killing this warlord…'
Or at least Wuya.
Even if it wouldn't work…
Still, at least he has the dream.
'And we all need goals in life, right?'
Might as well fill the slots with the destruction of every single obstacle in his way. Even if some of those slots have to remain closed for the time being. A fact that makes him direly wish to kick at the sand, because now he can't seal their fates so tightly as he previously would have been.
He'll have to settle for what he's already gotten, now. What his robots were able to scan and file away for later use.
Heck, he's not even sure if the package from T-Bot successfully made it back to home base. The bar that had represented the transfer's progress may have filled all the way, but it's journey there hadn't been altogether… stable.
'So in addition to officially having my evil hands tied, there's probably also a surprise waiting for me back at base.'
Ain't that the way? He gets an evil combo going, and the one hit he's most selfishly hoping to get in falls to the wayside.
'Just my damn luck.'
Next thing you know, Wuya will show up outta thin air, and then he'll be as good as made, which he'll naturally follow up with a prompt attempt on her li-
Light gives pause.
It's cast from his right this time.
Red eyes shut.
His breathing resumes, then, every number passing through his head calming it more and more.
Gripping on a branch near the apex of a tall tree, RJ maintains a watch upon the general direction the actual is moving in. Every now and then, its scanning optics roll left, then right, slowly repeating the process as time goes by.
All the individual magics it's able to make out, however, are still the disappearing and reappearing demon warriors in the distance.
'Unsatisfactory.'
Yet, time, time, and time again, its artificial eyes roam all visible land and sky.
Five, ten, thirty, sixty, eighty, one-hundred-seventy minutes-
The robot looks North, optics homing in on incoming-
Lightning zips across the cloudy sky, narrow optics trailing its swift disappearance over the Southern horizon, behind itself…
Robo-Jack blinks.
Though the demon warrior is headed toward last they all were, the monks left camp over an hour ago.
The monster is wasting its time.
Little as that may be.
Optics blink. Before returning whence they previously gazed. Scanning. Scanning. And scanning some more.
Odds, already stacked against them, are not getting better.
'Unsatisfactory.'
Yet onward they must and will go.
Toward all but ensured mutual doom.
The robot snorts, smirking similarly to the actual.
'Unsatisfactory, but better than the alternative.'
Likewise, the only way it's under the heel of Chase Young is as a steaming scrap-heap that did everything it could to make things harder for him.
After more than two hours, all that a demon warrior enlightening the area can earn from Jack Spicer is a deadpan stare ahead, even if he still indeed finds himself counting backwards in his head. He even checks his watch to see how far he still has to go, face unchanging when he sees there's still seven miles to go.
If he could, he'd growl out of pure annoyance, but he just drops his arm back against his side and waits for the damn demon warrior to teleport somewhere else.
He actually has reason to be impatient about it this time, though, finding it a measure difficult to resist tapping his foot on the sandy ground.
'Come on already, you useless monster… just get-'
It flickers out of being.
The area darkens again.
Jack slumps.
'Finally…'
He brings his watch up, whispering then, "Do you copy?"
"Affirmative," RJ whispers back from his watch.
"Make your way across using Moley's underground tunnel. We'll rendezvous," tapping upon his watch's screen, "at this location."
"Understood. Moving now."
The line closes.
Onward, Jack walks.