He was losing control.
Ichor whipped around, kicking the chair over. It fell to the floor with a loud crash! He growled, fists tightening.
He was losing his grip on Garmadon. He knew it. He'd stayed to the shadows, watching. But Wu and Misako kept interfering. Getting in the way. Garmadon seemed to suddenly be less influenced by him, less controlled. He was regaining his former identity, his former confidence.
That couldn't happen.
He needed control. He needed power.
Pathetic—
He flinched, straightening. His face hardened with practiced ease. Ichor needed to regain his hold on Garmadon. He couldn't lose this.
But how? With Wu and the ninja involved, how could he get close? They would turn on him.
He clenched and unclenched his fists, eyes narrowed. How could he have let this happen? Was letting Garmadon go a good idea? Or had it been another mistake, another—
Rage bubbled in his chest, his teeth gritting tightly. He spun around, knocking tools and equipment from the counter, which stretched along the left wall to the back wall. They clattered to the floor, sending a metallic ringing through the room. It echoed down into the hall.
Ichor gripped the counter edge tightly, glaring down at it. He couldn't lose it. His heart beat faster, and he sucked in a breath, knuckles turning white.
He needed a plan.
For forty years, he'd been planning his revenge. His hate had grown, overflowing, shaping into a dark storm of a relentless need to hurt him. For everything he'd d—
Ichor straightened again, frowning. This truly was pathetic. Dimwit. He turned, overlooking the room. The metal table sat in its center, empty, with brown stains of blood. A small cart sat with tools on it, scalpels, knives, tweezers, and other metal objects you'd find in a surgeon's room. Equipment lay across the counter along the wall, slightly disorganized. His chair still lay on the floor. Dials, buttons, and switches on a machine lay by where the chair had sat, on the counter. More equipment, tools, and tech lay beneath the counter. The walls were concrete, smooth. The floor had brown stains like the table.
All of this, his entire lab of supplies, and he couldn't do anything with it?
That jerk—that monster, had murdered him, and he couldn't do anything about it?! Ichor yelled, gripping the counter behind him again. That traitor would pay.
He'd killed him. Left him paralyzed—
He sucked in a breath. This was ridiculous.
Garmadon had cut his face open, and he couldn't even—
Pain split his face, the silver metal blade of the katana flashing in his vision—and then it all went black. He hit the ground, felt the cold snow against his back. Warm wetness gushed down his face, fire and burning and a cold numbness seeping in.
He was going to die.
Everything muted, limbs and parts of him he could once feel vanishing, the world fading. Was this what it'd come to? Was this his fate? After everything—
Was he really nothing?
A complete lack of control, of power, of his grip on—
This was his gruesome end. Just like—
He shuddered, jerking once. The world vanished, the cold and pain and fire melting away.
Ichor jerked away from the counter, pacing. He felt his face, the scars. Garmadon had done this to him. Took everything. Gave him these permanent reminders, the long slashes across his face.
Scars.
He'd repaid Garmadon with plenty of scars.
Garmadon murdered him—
Ichor paused, head tilted slightly. He considered the vague fogginess of an idea that started to surface. Maybe the secret needed to come out into the light. Maybe Garmadon needed a flash of reality, that his mistakes were going to haunt him for the rest of his life, that he truly had nothing.
A smirk split his scarred face, eyes darkening. Maybe he did still have his control.
Garmadon stared at the courtyard.
"How has therapy been going?"
He glanced at Wu, then shrugged.
"What do you think of Mr. Thomas?"
"You mean Phil?"
"Er…yes."
"He's…fine. Why?"
"I was just wondering." Wu watched him. "Brother…"
Garmadon looked at him. "What?"
"I'm worried about you. I know you've seemed to have improved a little, but…I wish there was something I could do. Are you sure you can't tell me what happened to you?"
He looked away, jaw clenching. "Nothing happened. I'm fine."
"But I know you're lying."
He shook his head. "I am not—"
The monastery doors slammed open.
Garmadon jumped, staring at them. Then he paled, taking a step back, everything suddenly spinning too fast as his heart sped up—
Ichor stood there, black hair slightly unkempt. He still wore the black gi, dark eyes staring at him, the scars on his face very much visible. He walked in calmly, hands in his pockets, posture straight and decisive.
Wu's mouth dropped open. "Ichor?"
Garmadon sucked in a breath, a whimper threatening to escape. His muscles tensed, freezing him in place. What was he doing here? Why was he—
"Yes. Long time no see." Ichor paused a little ways from them, chin slightly lifted as he gazed at Wu.
"But—but you were dead—" Wu stuttered, holding his staff and teacup a little tighter.
"Yes. I was." Ichor's gaze narrowed at Garmadon.
"I haven't seen you since the Serpentine War. Since…since we found your body. There was blood everywhere—how—"
The corner of his mouth briefly flicked to a small smirk, then back to his blank, cold look. "I know. How've you been, Wu?"
"Fine. But how have you been…? And how are you here?"
"I've been quite well. Really. But there's something you ought to know about your dear brother, friend."
Wu frowned. "What?"
Garmadon stiffened, eye widening. What—? What was he talking about? Why was he here? He hadn't ever come up here, hadn't ever shown himself to Wu, Misako, or the ninja. So why now?
"Have you ever wondered how I died?" Ichor asked.
"No…a serpentine killed you," Wu said. "It was a time of war."
Ichor smiled coldly. "So your brother had told you."
Wu frowned again, glancing at Garmadon. "What?" He looked back at Ichor. "What do you mean?"
Garmadon paled, heart thudding wildly in his throat. He wouldn't—
Ichor smiled, a dark, victorious flicker in his eyes. "Garmadon murdered me. In cold blood. Your dear brother is a murderer, Wu."
The Serpentine War, forty years ago~
The snow crunched softly under their feet. It was silent as they passed the birch trees, heading for the Glacier Barrens. The trees would soon thin out, turning into rugged, rocky, and treacherous, snowy mountain.
Garmadon grit his teeth, side-eyeing Ichor. He recalled the earlier conversation he'd had with Wu.
"I don't know. We only know they're coming in from the northwest." Wu pointed to the old looking map, tracing a finger down from the Glacier Barrens to Birchwood Forest.
"Hmm. Perhaps we could find out?" Ichor gazed at the map, an unreadable expression on his face.
Wu nodded. "Perhaps. I wanted to send out some spies, see what they're up to."
Garmadon shot a suspicious look at Ichor, eyes narrowed, before looking back at the map. "Knowing those snakes, that's a good idea. They're planning something."
"Obviously," Ichor said.
Garmadon growled at him.
"Stop it, you two." Wu looked up at them. "Actually, you both would be perfect for the job."
Garmadon blinked. "Um…what? Why me? Why HIM?"
"Because you both won't get along. This will be a good mission, so you can learn how to work together." His brother smiled.
Garmadon glared. He's just like father…
Ichor shrugged, crossing his arms. "I suppose I can tolerate Garmadon…but he hates me."
"He doesn't hate you, Ichor." Wu looked at Garmadon pointedly. "RIGHT, brother?"
Garmadon huffed, turning on his heel and walking out of the small tent. I DO hate him. I wish he was dead.
He stopped in his tracks, blinking. Where had that come from…?
Kill him.
Oh. The venom. Of course… He was starting to get better at differentiating between the venom's voice and his own, now. Meditation helped a lot.
He sucked in a breath. Sometimes he scared himself…
He turned, heading into the trees. He needed some time to mentally prepare before going with THAT creep…
"Garmadon?"
He grit his teeth, then slowly turned around. "Yes, dear brother?" he replied sarcastically.
Wu blinked. "Um…I just wanted to make sure you were okay with this."
"Of course I'm not okay with it! Why would I be?! Ichor is a jerk!"
"He's not a jerk. Just give him a chance. I know you two got off on the wrong foot, but there's no reason you can't get along. At the very least, until this war is over."
Garmadon huffed. "How am I supposed to get along with him? He hates me! He won't stop insulting me, bugging me, and being a jerk!"
"He's never said one mean thing to you. Maybe his attitude is a little rude, but he's not mean."
"That's because he never says anything when around you!" Garmadon threw his arms in the air.
A few elemental masters glanced over at them, looking confused and concerned.
"Brother—" Wu lowered his voice—"I know you don't trust him, but I need you on this mission. I have to stay here and coordinate things. And I need someone with experience to go on this mission."
"Fine, but why does Ichor have to go?"
"Because he's the most effective against the serpentine."
"Because he uses his creepy blood power!"
"I know we both don't agree about his…methods…but he's an ally. He's helping us with the war, and we need all the help we can get."
Garmadon scoffed, whipping around and stomping away. "Ha! He has you all wrapped up in his little game! He's twisting your mind, Wu! Why can't you see that?!"
He didn't hear his brother's reply, the loud crunching of the snow under his feet blocking it out. Or maybe he just didn't answer. Who knew.
I don't care.
He felt the venom flare up, and he felt his eyes flicker to red and back. He took a calming breath. It would be fine. I can keep my temper in check for one mission, right?
Ichor has no hold of me. I'll be fine.
It'll go fine. Nothing will go wrong.
It's just in and out.
Ichor smirked at him. "See something interesting?"
Garmadon scowled, looking away.
The Master of Blood adjusted the dagger at his hip, slightly tilting his head. "This mission will be interesting. The serpentine can be fascinating in their defense strategies."
"How so?"
"Their unique abilities, the way they order themselves. Have you never observed them?"
"Course I have. This is war."
"Hmm. I don't think you truly have. Or you would know what I mean." He laughed.
Garmadon grit his teeth, eyes narrowing. He felt the venom boil in his veins. Just stay calm. It's just in and out. He'd told that to himself earlier, before they'd left on this mission. Wu seemed confident they would be fine, that they could "bond". Learn to work together.
He huffed. Yeah, right.
Ichor smirked at him again. "You really don't like me, do you?"
"Not one bit."
"Unfortunate. How're you holding up? The venom still whispering to you?"
He glared at him. "Leave me alone. How about we just walk in silence? There could be serpentine around."
"Oh, don't worry. I'll detect them." He grinned, wagglinghis fingers at him.
He shivered, looking away. Ichor's power was disturbing—the ability to move blood? Control it? That wasn't right. He knew it. Why there was a blood element baffled him. Had his father known about it?
"Come, now, Garmadon. Don't be like that. I'm not that annoying."
He glared at him. "That's all you DO is try to irk me!"
"I don't try to. I just do. You're much too easy.
Garmadon growled, eyes flashing red. His fists clenched.
"Ah, there's the monster in you. You shouldn't try to hide it—I already know what you are." Ichor smirked.
Something in him snapped. The bottled up rage, the hatred, the hurt and shame at being called a monster…it all suddenly became too much. Black darkness consumed his mind like a storm cloud. Garmadon whipped out his katana. "I AM NOT A MONSTER!" He lunged at Ichor.
Ichor blinked, his eyes widening, looking genuinelyand thoroughly surprised.
Garmadon slashed his katana through Ichor's stupid, cocky, jerky face. Blood roared in his ears, drowning out everything, his mind racing madly, the venom flaring gleefully.
The slash cut through flesh and bone, and he didn't hesitate to swing again, madly, crazily. Again and again and again. Aiming for his face, chest, anything. Blood started seeping out, soaking into the gi, the skin sliced cleanly and gaping open at the wounds to reveal red and exposed, white bone.
It all happened in seconds.
Ichor collapsed limply, muscles torn through, major and minor arteries broken, insides revealed gruesomely. His gi shredded where the katana had slid through. Hair matted and bloodied.
Garmadon breathed heavily, gasping as he glared at his enemy. His hand squeezed the katana, other fist clenched.
He blinked, rigid.
The black darkness in his mind suddenly vanished. Garmadon blinked again. His hands were shaking, still clutching the katana.And then his eyes landed on his victim. Blood soaked the snow, and the motionless, mangled figure.
Garmadon gaped, stumbling back. What had he done—
He sucked in a sharp intake. His breath became rapid.
No no no— Had he just…?
Murderer. Monster.
"I told you so. He'll amount to nothing but a criminal. A villain." Mystake's words echoed in his mind.
"No, that's not— It's not true—"
Garmadon's eyes stared down at the body, unable to take his gaze away. It suddenly seemed as if every detail popped out at him, screaming at him.
The face seemed twisted, bloodied, with five slash marks crossing over each other, leaving large gashes. He was pretty sure it showed the skull and…the brain. Blood was covering the victim's features—if he even had any left. The eyes were intact, though. Wide and lifeless. Dim.
Dead.
His black hair was matted, some sticking to his forehead, sweat—mixed with blood—beading down his face. The corpse was mangled, cuts and slash marks littering it, blood still gushing out and staining the mahogany and crimson gi. The snow was stained around the body, no longer pure white.
Garmadon's throat closed up and his mouth went dry. He stumbled back, eyes wide as the reality suddenly slammed into him.
You're a murderer. And this is only the beginning.
"Ichor—" Garmadon sucked in a breath as his vision blurred. He stood there, frozen, unable to move.
He hated him.
But he had just…he'd just killed him. He'd just murdered someone. He'd taken an innocent life, an allies life, his brother's FRIEND.
Ichor was dead.
And it was all his fault.
Panic gripped his chest. Now what was he supposed to do? Tell his brother? Tell the alliance?
He was a murderer. A psychotic monster. He really was becoming a villain. They'd…they'd lock him up. Mystake was right.
Garmadon's eyes flashed red again.
He stumbled back, hands shaking so much he almost lost his grip on the katana. He carefully wiped the blade in the snow, gently swiping the blood off with his fingers. He then ran his fingers through the snow, getting any blood off of him, any stain of murder from himself.
They couldn't know. They couldn't know what he'd done.
Garmadon moved the snow around a bit, making it look like a fight had gone down. He erased his own footsteps near the body so it couldn't be connected.
They can't know what I am.
He swiped a hand across his face, wet tears slipping down his cheeks. He moved almost robotically, stumbling back the way Ichor and him had just come moments before.
He sucked in a sob. What is happening to me…? What was wrong with him? Murdering a teammate?! An ally?!
I really am a monster.
The red in his eyes flared brighter. I'll lie. They won't know. They can't know. He would be okay. Wu wouldn't know, he wouldn't think any less of him. He'd believe his story. Misako wouldn't know what he'd done, what he was.
Everything would be okay.
He didn't get far, pausing by a tree. Tears slipped freely down his cheeks. He sheathed his katana, then clenched his fists. He was already a murderer. He was supposed to protect people. Not… not kill them. Father would be so disappointed, so angry, so…so… Garmadon had failed him. He'd failed Wu. He'd failed Ninjago.
I can keep my temper in check for one mission, right?
Ichor has no hold of me. I'll be fine.
It'll go fine. Nothing will go wrong.
It's just in and out.
Garmadon remembered his earlier thoughts, before he'd gone on this mission. He'd been so naive, so wrong. He'd thought everything would be fine.
He sucked in a breath, shaking, and then continued on. The frigid cold wind felt numb against him, the chill faint.
He had to get back.
Garmadon entered the camp slowly, heart thudding. His throat seemed to close up, his palms sweaty. He stumbled, almost in a daze.
Wu was the first to notice him. "Garmadon? You're back already?"
He looked at Wu, trying to even his breathing.
"Brother, what's wrong?" He hurried over.
He must have seen his haunted look.
The other elemental masters looked over, gathered around a fire. Some stood uncertainly.
"Garmadon?" Wu put a hand on his shoulder gently. "Tell me what happened. Where's Ichor?"
He sucked in a breath, piecing together what he would say. The lie. "He…they killed him."
"What?"
"The serpentine. They killed Ichor."
Wu's eyes widened. There were exclamations of shock from some of the others.
Garmadon felt sick at how easily the lie slipped from his mouth. He looked away. He couldn't bear to hold Wu's gaze, to lie to his face.
"He's…dead?"
He nodded a little.
"Where is he." His brother's eyes narrowed.
Had he caught onto the lie so easily? His heart raced faster, pumping in his throat. No…no, Wu was gullible. Too trusting. He didn't know.
Garmadon let out a slow breath, turning, and headed back the way he'd come. Some of the other elemental masters came with.
Wu walked beside him, staff sinking into the snow with each step. He stared straight ahead, expression stoic.
His stomach clenched. His innocent little brother really was a fool. He felt bile in the back of his mouth, but he swallowed it down. Swallowed down the guilt.
I'm a monster. And a murderer.
They arrived at the murder scene an hour later. Ichor lay there, still as ever, blood still seeping into the snow. His nose, fingers, and ears had started to turn blue with frostbite, his skin pale and bloodied. The wounds now leaked out ichor, along with the crimson.
He'd bled out already.
Garmadon sucked in a breath. He really had done a great amount of damage to him. He supposed it matched his element—destruction. It was funny how the stuff leaking out of his victim matched his name, Ichor. The liquid that signified death.
Wu had paused beside him, eyes wide.
Garmadon hesitated, then set a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry…" he whispered.
"It's not your fault. I'm sure you tried your best to save him."
He bit his lip, abruptly moving his hand. He was sorry for so much more than Wu could ever imagine.
Wu walked over to the body, staring at it rigidly. "Well…we should bury him. We can't just leave him like this. It isn't right."
Ray followed him, one of the elemental masters who'd come with. "I'll help."
Maya nodded. "I will too."
The few others who had also come nodded in agreement.
Garmadon looked at the ground, tense. He couldn't handle this. He couldn't do this!
"Thank you. Then let's—" Wu was interrupted by the sound of marching. He turned, frowning.
Garmadon looked up, everyone stiffening.
The marching was coming closer, faint speech carrying over on the wind. The slurred speech of serpentine, their S's too drawn out.
Wu looked at everyone. "I'm sorry, but we don't have time. The serpentine are taking Birchwood Forest."
"But we can't just back down! We have to fight them!" Ray stepped forward. "They keep pushing us back! We're losing this war, Wu!"
"We will. We'll come up with a plan. But for now, we must retreat. I don't want any more deaths today." He walked stiffly past. "Come."
They hesitated, then followed. Garmadon stared at Ichor for a moment, lying so still. He followed his brother, the image burned into his mind. He closed his eyes, trying to block it out.
Wu slowed, putting a hand on his shoulder. "It's alright, brother. I know you tried."
He shook his head, fists clenching.
"Don't blame yourself." Wu took the lead once more, picking up the pace.
But Wu didn't understand. Didn't know.
Garmadon bit his lip, then sucked in a breath. There was no turning back now. The mistake was done. Now he'd just have to live with it. And hope it didn't come back to haunt him, that no one found out, that he didn't turn into a psychopathic villain.
Like Mystake believed. Like father had believed. Like Ichor had believed. Like everyone believed.
He grit his teeth. NO. He would not turn evil. He would stay on the good path. Even through his mistakes, even through the venom, he wouldn't turn his back on the ways of the First Spinjitzu Master.
He wouldn't turn into a villain.