(A/N): Happy 2024 folks! So I took 50 years to upload a chapter that had already been written years ago, but in my defense, I went to India, got a full-time job, moved out in secret ...
Some interesting details in this chapter that are eventually important for the overall plot :3 Only one more pre-written chapter to go and then I have to start writing from scratch again..

Muted crackling punctuated the silence, flickering flames casting a soft orange glow, struggling to counter the chill settling into Lloyd's bones. Idly, he poked at the half-burnt tinder until the weak fire found fresh wood to cling hungrily onto, flaring brighter with new life. He avoided staring at it too long when he could, because the faint light left dancing afterimages behind his eyelids, and they took shapes that made his heart skip painfully, but he had nothing better to do with himself.

Each movement of his limbs as he shifted his sitting position felt tedious, like his body had been turned to stone. His legs in particular groaned their protest, sore from relentless walking with little rest. Tiny pinpricks twinged under his skin, hot and disarming, never letting up their edge. Thoughts buzzed like a swarm of bees in his head, blocking out all calm, but they evaded his grasp when he tried to focus on any of them.

Probably for the best. None of them were good, he knew that much from the trains of thought he'd repeatedly had to wrench himself away from over the past day. With each second that went by, the chance of survival for Kai and Karlof went down another notch. The group searching for them right now could be ambushed with no warning, and Lloyd wasn't there to do anything about it, wasn't out there looking because everyone insisted he needed to stay for some reason. The fact sent another rush of numb dread through him, but he was so oversaturated that it wasn't properly registering anymore.

The faintest of thuds broke his ruminating. Lloyd stiffened up from his slouch almost before he recognized the sound, heart stuttering. Turning his head revealed Skylor with her feet on the floor, moving to stand. For a moment, she just blinked at him, Lloyd staring owlishly at her in turn and trying to look unruffled.

"Sorry to startle you." Skylor said, after a moment. "Just wanted to stretch my legs."

"Startled? I wasn't startled." Lloyd scratched the back of his neck, hating how his voice betrayed him instantly. "It's fine."

"Oh. Alright."

With a push of her hands, Skylor was up. Lloyd watched her stand before deciding he needed to properly do something with himself. Picking up and unsheathing his katana, he began to inspect the blade for any damage. Skylor, on her end, was seemingly content to step around the bed, stopping occasionally to stretch out her arms or back.

"Is it weird?"

Lloyd nearly nicked his thumb.

"Huh?"

"Knowing your father was part of all this, I mean." Skylor had taken a seat again. She pushed one hand down with the other in a wrist stretch as she spoke. Lloyd's head buzzed. "Both things we've read so far mentioned him, after all."

"I—" The question had completely blindsided him, and Lloyd had no clue how to respond.

Truth be told, it was … weird, yeah, that was a word he could use for it. There was a whole lot of something swirling around in his skull after his dad's name had popped up, to be sure.

"Hey, sorry, Lloyd," Skylor murmured, after several moments passed by in silence. "I probably overstepped a boundary. You don't have to answer that—"

"No, you're fine," he assured immediately. After a bitter pause, he forced out, "I was thinking about him earlier, anyway."

She didn't look up at him, but Lloyd could tell her ears were pricked. What was he doing? Skylor was nice and all, but he barely knew her, and usually he was tight-lipped about his thoughts. She didn't seem like the type for pity, though, not that the others pitied him so much as they got this look in their eyes whenever he opened up, and it made him feel like he was bothering them. Skylor had asked, though, and it was either think about this or think about his friends, still out there and still unsafe—

… Ah, what the heck.

Carefully, he set his katana aside; he was definitely not finishing up with it now. Surprisingly, he was talking, even if the words didn't spill from his mouth so much as they plodded their awkward way out.

"It is weird," he conceded. "The mansion's been awful from day one. So many people must've died here, if all those bones are anything to go by. And from what the author's letter said about my dad …"

"You think there's a chance he's related to whatever happened?" Skylor ventured. Lloyd nodded mutely; what else was there to say? He had no solid proof of it, of course, just instances of a name in correspondence, but to see it at all set off alarm bells.

Odd thing to say, but Lloyd Garmadon was tired of hearing about his father's past.

Not because he was uninterested, of course; he'd eaten up any story his father could spare him from the time he was a chubby little kid with a bowl cut. It was more that it always seemed to crop up right before something terrible, like finding out your dad had an evil sensei and lied his way into a relationship, right before cursing him. Or finding him again and having a brief respite, a fleeting chance to remember his voice and the crinkles in his face when he smiled, right before letting him drown forever.

The point was, Lloyd loved his father, but with every new puzzle piece he obtained, the picture of the man Garmadon had been was more and more muddled. He knew, of course, that a man who spent most of his life in the throes of darkness would not have a spotless record. He'd made peace with that. Once the sharpest edge of grief had eased up, he had directed his energy towards trying to love the man he knew. And it was easy, when he was Lloyd, when he was the one thing his father had always unconditionally loved.

To that end, he found himself wanting his dad—everything about his past, everything he had once been in life—to be left in peace, instead of being raked up again in yet another catastrophe he never got the chance to atone for. It was safe to assume Garmadon knew about the mansion. But …

The last day had carried with it the sickening dread that they would find bodies instead of friends. When he blinked, he could see images of bleached skeletons and old stains burnt into his eyelids, and they followed him when he walked.

… If his father had a hand in turning it into this nightmare, Lloyd wouldn't know what to think.

"Weird" summed up how he was feeling about this pretty well.

"Maybe he wasn't a part of it and he just knew the person who owned all this stuff, but my dad's not usually a footnote when it comes to the past," he said at length, quirking his lips up wryly. "Who knows if we'll find out what ended up happening with him, though."

Skylor nodded, her tone cautious. "Seems like every new thing we learn answers one question and leaves ten more."

"No kidding." If anything, ten didn't seem like a high enough number for the things they didn't know. "We've got messed-up time, magic, an elemental master, Serpentine spies, my dad keeps popping up, and apparently Cole's grandfather was a traitor?" Poor Cole had seemed bewildered when Lloyd first brought it up; he must have had so many thoughts on the matter.

"That surprised me, too." Skylor's face had gone pensive, firelight fluttering on her face. "Actually reminds me of something I noticed about this place."

"Oh, yeah?"

"It's oddly personal." At Lloyd's confused glance, she clarified, "We came here expecting nothing, but we're seeing names we know all over the place. Cole's grandfather, your father …" Her face darkened. "My father."

Oh, right. The Serpentine War that had hit this forest was masterminded by none other than Chen. Who also happened to be her dad.

She was probably sorting through some messy feelings about the whole situation of her own.

"Which is why," Skylor said, twirling an arrow between her fingers (when had she grabbed that?), "I think Shade really did come here. Everyone we asked said he was headed for this mansion specifically. Who looks for a place this hard to find unless they want something?" She tossed the arrow up to punctuate her question, then dramatically swiped her arm and snatched it when it fell back down.

"Nobody?" Lloyd said.

"Exactly. Plus, I know Shade. That man hates 'wasting time' on anything that isn't worth his attention," Skylor said, rolling her eyes fondly. Her face fell quickly enough, however, and her next words were spoken to the fireplace.

"Shade was looking for this mansion, and he must have had a reason. Something personal. We just don't know what it was."

Which left the troubling question, Lloyd thought, of where he could be.

Zane schooled his face as he studied the results of PIXAL's latest scan. It would not do, after all, for the others to see his reaction to the steady increase in detected magical energy.

Jay in front tottered along unevenly (Zane suspected an injury he would need to inquire about later), unfocused and humming quietly off-key, entirely unaware of the corrupted magic clinging to him like a fog. His shadow shifted oddly in the dim daylight.

"What will you tell him?" PIXAL asked.

Zane chewed over the question, weighing the benefits of mentioning it at all given how little could be done. Reticence was dangerous in a place like this, however. He had no choice but to keep quiet, being sworn to secrecy, but Jay at the very least needed to be aware of where he stood.

He just didn't see any reason it had to be immediate.

"I have to think on it. But I will talk to him after we return from this patrol," Zane promised, careful not to vocalize aloud as he replied. He'd been teased enough about it already; no need to hand his friends more ammunition. "Jay has been," he searched for a gentle word, "troubled, as of late, and I fear the stress of our current circumstances has only exacerbated it. It would be best to wait until we are out of any immediate danger."

PIXAL's eyebrows furrowed on her holographic face. "I have also noticed his behavior. Perhaps the presence of magic is what is worsening it, rather than being attributable merely to stress."

Huh. She made a good point. Zane had to wonder why the possibility had not occurred to him before.

"I do see the sense in putting off giving Jay this information," she continued. "But do not forget what I brought up before. This much magic, of such an unpredictable nature, is not only dangerous for Jay; it could potentially bring harm to the rest of us."

"I remember," Zane murmured to her, keeping his eyes alert. Cole and Jay had evidently decided to take his earlier advice of checking rooms Kai definitely knew, and were now veering towards the large, grandiose room of art Cole had taken refuge in two days before. With a quick, wary sweep of their surroundings, ensuring nothing was sneaking up on them, he followed. "And I am curious as to why it is increasing around him, and no one else."

"Perhaps it is accumulating around him the longer we stay here," PIXAL suggested. "Although I do not have an answer as to why it would target Jay specifically."

"All the more reason we need to find our friends and leave quickly."

"Yes," she agreed, "but I regret that I am only speculating, in the end. I do not have enough information to draw definitive conclusions."

"Do not worry." Zane did his best to transmit a reassuring smile as he watched Cole shut the door. "Even your speculations have been quite helpful so far. Thank you, PIXAL."

"It is the least I can do." Having said what she needed to, PIXAL retreated back to monitoring their surroundings from his eyes, although Zane could feel restlessness bubbling from where she sat in his systems.

He could hardly blame her. Were their positions reversed, he doubted he would handle their current predicament with PIXAL's grace. And PIXAL had been inside his head for far longer than either of them had anticipated, he realized with a twinge of guilt. After Chen's island came Morro, and once the aftermath of his dogged quest for revenge had settled, the Day of the Departed—Cole—had monopolized their attention, and now this mansion …

Once they left, he really needed to see if Dr. Borg would be kind enough to restore PIXAL's corporal form. She never complained, but being confined within the capabilities of his systems, with no agency of her own, could not be doing her good.

But that would be for outside the mansion. For now, they were still trapped in its walls, and he needed to see what his friends were doing.

"I'm just asking how you didn't see all this the last time you were here," Jay was saying, tone bemused.

"Oh, sorry I missed the bones huddled to the side, in a dimly-lit room," Cole bit out."I was a bit busy having a mental blue screen."

There were indeed fragments and long pieces of bone piled up behind an elegant statue, powdery white dust kicking up into the air when he took a step forward. He reminded himself that similar scenes were present everywhere, but it did little to ease the shiver that rushed through him.

"Okay, sorry," Jay sighed. "Yeesh."

The heavy look Jay left lingering on Cole's back didn't go unnoticed. Zane was left wondering if he had missed something between them; Cole had seemed more short with Jay throughout the morning, and Jay had been tense back. Not once had it escalated to bickering, so he hoped he was merely reading too much into exhaustion and anxiety left to fester, but their record with getting along under stress was, to put it mildly, flimsy.

He hoped they found Kai and Karlof soon.

"I don't see 'em in here; they might have gone inside that other room." Jay called, peering at a painting. "Which picture was the switch?"

"Well, it's not that one, dingbat." Cole gave it a quick once-over before recognizing it was the wrong one, then side-eyed Jay for good measure. "Remember that family we keep seeing in pictures? It's a big portrait of them."

Zane tipped his head to examine the room and found the distinct frame in the time it took Jay to quit sulking at being called a "dingbat". With sure steps, he approached the painting, checking its colors and subjects against the family they'd seen so many times in searching. If Kai and Karlof were not hiding here, they could move on without concern and avoid letting themselves become sitting targets.

Yet he found himself pausing before he tilted the painting.

If the mansion had been a residence for many, then why did these faces crop up over and over? Strewn belongings, clothes and books and weapons, must have once had owners immeasurable, too many faces to match to their things, but this family was evidently special …

"Oh, you found it! Nice job, Zane." Cole had walked over, and he now placed a hand on Zane's shoulder as he looked up at the colorful figures. Jay was not far behind, reaching for the frame of the painting to turn it—

"Wait." Zane blurted out.

Jay stiffened with surprise, but he obeyed regardless, with both of them turning to him curiously. Cole tilted his head as he met Zane's gaze, no doubt attempting to ascertain what he was thinking about.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing wrong," he reassured them. "I was merely thinking: out of all the art we have seen thus far, by far the most recurring subjects are those in this family." Sparing the painting another glance, he wondered if he was correct for a split second before setting aside his uncertainty. After all, with the breadth of his knowledge so far, he could only speculate. "Our elemental master's diary mentioned that this mansion was controlled by a clockmaker."

"You think the guy in the painting is that clockmaker?" Jay guessed.

"Precisely." Zane smiled approvingly.

"And the other two are his family, then?" Cole chimed in.

A nod.

"Huh." Cole's expression went thoughtful, the way it did when he was surprised by a suggestion. Then he turned to examine the claim for himself. "Could be. I guess that's our clockmaker, then. Not sure what I expected."

Zane pored over the portrait with keen eyes, studying the man formed of careful brush strokes. His dark vest bore a clock embroidered in gold thread, and brown curls were tied back in a short ponytail at the nape of the neck. Rectangular glasses perched in front of ice-green eyes, weary lines creased into a bearded face, and a soft smile pulled up his mouth as he gazed at the woman and child in the painting. The tall woman next to him gazed out, fierce eyes demanding attention and respect. A sunny smile gleamed against scarred, dark skin, with sleek black hair brushing against the shoulders of a grinning little girl.

"They seem happy," he murmured. "What became of them?"

"Who knows," Cole said somberly. "Dead, probably."

"I sure hope so," Jay muttered, attracting incredulous looks from the other two. "Zombies on top of everything else feels like a bit much to handle."

"Jay." The sigh Cole gave was long-suffering. Zane, holding back a groan of his own, sympathized.

"What, am I wrong?"

Cole's look became withering.

"Yeah, okay, sorry."

"Realistically speaking, you are most likely correct," Zane commented after a moment, hoping that Jay's remark would not push them into outright arguing. "There is plenty of evidence to suggest that the inhabitants of this residence did not meet a happy end, after all."

"How's about we do?" At length, Jay reached for the golden frame and yanked it down with a bit more force than strictly necessary. "Let's find our friends and get out."

The wall slid back with a low rumble, just as it had before. Without prompting, Jay lit his fist with a shaky bout of lightning, and its flickering light mixed with the beams of Zane's eyes as he searched the space for any signs of life. Nothing registered, nor did anything point to their presence within the last day, and he shook his head minutely in a disheartened signal. Jay, with a disappointed hum, pulled the frame back up, and they turned in unspoken agreement.

There was far too much within the mansion left to search, and they had found no signs of their friends or a way out. No use staying here.

The intricate frames and carved stone reflected the golden glow of a long day. Before much longer, they would either have to turn on a flashlight or Jay's lightning to see properly.

"Where to next?" Cole inquired. As they walked out, he still carried himself with the confidence of a half-drowned puppy, but given his circumstances it was difficult to fault him for it. An incomplete, holographic map flashed from Zane's eyes, hatched in blue, and he began to run through his mental checklist of rooms they had already checked through.

"How about this one? We did not examine it this morning as we searched the passages."

Cole opened his mouth to respond, but his eyes dilated oddly and the words never hit air.

"What? What is it?" Jay demanded.

"Wrong, something's wrong—"

He had no time to ask what Cole had detected. PIXAL was issuing frantic warnings of her own now. Zane just barely caught the eerie whistle that had picked up in the silence, the panicked choking sound in Cole's throat, Jay's shouting, before the doors slammed open. A deafening whirr hummed in his head.

A trail of darkness seeped into the room and took form, unforgiving eyes laying to rest upon its unprepared quarry.