Survive. Survive. Survive.
Jay Walker knew, in that moment, that he hated sand. His legs burned as he ran on top of it, his shoes sliding every which way, trying to gain a sturdy surface to grip onto, but there was nothing. His feet sunk into it, trapping him briefly before he gained enough strength to free himself. All that was around him was sand, sand, and more sand, making true escape impossible. How could he run away when the sand wouldn't let him?
He heard screams of anger from behind him, and he stumbled, urging himself to go faster, to make some distance from the ever growing army behind him.
He didn't have a chance to turn back and check how big the army had gotten, yet he knew that, at this point in the chase, they would have deployed mechs. There were probably no less than fifty agents on his tail, all tasked to do one thing: capture Jay and bring him back to the Administration. The thought made his stomach twist into knots, and he tried to run even faster.
Jay just escaped the claws of the Administration. He wasn't going back. He wasn't going back to the endless days of paperwork, the meaningless job he was thrust into. He wasn't going back to where no one cared about anything but check marks and signatures on useless paper, where everyone stared with unseeing eyes, only obeying orders like slaves. And he wasn't going back to the Chamber. Never, ever, again.
The sun above him burned his skin, sand carried by a strong wind landed in his hair, in his suit, and in his eyes. But he didn't stop running. Stopping meant more pain, and he didn't want to be in pain anymore. He wanted to live. He wanted to be free.
"Agent Walker! By the all encompassing authority of the Administrator you must come with us immediately!" The voice behind him was loud, too loud, and Jay knew that he was running out of time. He had to go faster. He had to do something to buy himself time.
His heart pounded strongly in his chest, fast, repeating the same word over and over again.
Survive. Survive. Survive.
He screamed as he felt one of the lasers from a gun hit his shoulder, causing him to stumble into the sand below him, knees digging into the rough, gritty surface. He coughed, grabbing his shoulder with a cry, feeling warm blood dribbling down his fingers. But he tried not to let it concern him. The laser wasn't going to be what killed him. It was going to be his stumble into the sand that did that.
He fought to get up, once, twice, three times, yet he couldn't pull himself up, his legs shaking with exhaustion, his feet unable to dig themselves out of the sand without sliding.
An agent finally caught up to him, no expression on his face, and aimed the gun right at Jay's head. Jay stilled, knowing that it was too late now.
"You are to be taken back to the Administration, where the Administrator will determine what to do with you." The agent said sternly, and Jay turned away, pulling himself into a tight ball. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see the gun, and not knowing what to do.
He couldn't breathe. The fear of what was waiting for him seemed to take hold of his throat, crushing it, squeezing it with more strength than a mountain, causing darkness to loom at the edge of his vision.
He didn't want to go back. He wouldn't. He couldn't.
Survive. Survive. Survive.
As if it had woken up from slumber, for the first time in days, Jay could feel his lightning. It snaked underneath his skin, an electric current that pulsed with every beat of his heart, growing stronger. Jay felt the lightning move through his veins as if it had a life of its own. And he welcomed the feeling, gripping it with his mind and heart, eager to feel it after having lost it for so long.
He knew that that was what the Administration wanted. He knew that they wanted his powers, his lightning. Yet, as Jay faced certain doom, he couldn't help but be thankful that at least some of his powers were returning. That he could finally do something instead of succumbing to the fear. That he could finally defend himself.
The lightning that had been forced away from him was finally his to control again, and he wasn't going to let it go to waste.
The Administration could take his memories, his strength, but they could never fully take away the lightning that he controlled. The lightning that was his.
"Agent Walker, get up and come with us immediately!"
Jay took a deep breath, allowing the lightning to flow through him, and with a speed he didn't know he possessed, he reached up, shooting the lightning out of his fingertips and into the air. He shocked the agent above him, sending the other man down to the sandy ground, shaking.
Blue lightning danced on his fingertips, and he shakily got to his feet, showing the raw power to the other agents who had approached him. Everyone shuttered to a stop, and before Jay could relish his victory and escape, one of the mechs lifted its arm and shot Jay in the chest, causing him to stumble back. His vision began going black, and Jay ran once more, shooting bolts of lighting behind him, hoping that he could slow them down. A part of him wondered if he could do more with his powers, but the other part of him didn't care. All that mattered now was escape.
Laser fire flew past him, and he ducked as one whizzed right over his head. Jay's chest seized, fighting for a breath that Jay couldn't stop to take, and his shoulder throbbed with every step he took, the movement jarring his body. He didn't even want to look down at his chest to see the sort of damage the mech did to him. He knew that he would give up if he did.
Suddenly, the sand underneath his feet turned to stone, and he flailed out his arms, his feet slamming to a rough stop as he saw a steep drop in front of him, leading down into darkness. It was a crack in the earth guiding the way to nothing, a dark expanse that Jay didn't want to imagine for a second longer. Jay cried out, fear pulsing through his body as he stood on the edge, so, so close to falling to his death. Too close.
Looking back, he could see the Administration still in pursuit, dozens of agents closing in on him with one united purpose. He couldn't fight them all, even though his powers had returned he wasn't strong enough to face the army. And he couldn't continue forward, he couldn't fly, and he certainly couldn't jump far enough to make it to the other side. Before he could scramble away from the edge, another shot from a gun hit Jay's side, causing him to stumble back, his right foot teetering on the edge of nothingness.
"Wait! Wait!" Jay called, raising his hands up, resting his foot as much on the ground at possible, yet he knew that one strong gust of wind would send him over. "Can we talk about this?"
"Depends." A female agent now said, stepping forward confidently. Her gun was held loosely in her hands, but Jay knew that she wouldn't miss. "Are you willing to come with us? The Administrator values your participation in the Administration."
"Participation? You mean how he would throw me in the Chamber and drain my powers? The Administrator doesn't care about people, all he wants is to expand and take over all of the Merged realm! Surely you see that!" The words escaped before he knew it, and somehow Jay knew that that was normal for him.
"Agent Walker, under Section A4G67, you must remain silent, you cannot speak of the Administrator so freely."
"No! I quit! You can't tell me what to do! And neither can the Administrator! This is absolutely ridiculous! Can't you see that you work in the Realm of Madness? You know what that word means, right? You're mad, all of you! Absolutely crazy!"
"Says the man who's standing on the edge of a cliff. Who has lightning powers that he refuses to use to help the Administration." The woman was calm; a startling contrast to Jay's own mind and heart.
"I'm not giving my powers to someone who would use it to make weapons. To take over."
Jay's breathing was ragged as he sensed the looming fall behind him, and he stepped forward, further onto solid ground, only to be stopped by another raised gun. All of the agents were aiming at him now, and Jay knew what he had to do.
He didn't know who he was, not really. He didn't know what he did before the Administration, if he had friends, a family, or even if he was a good person. Yet he knew that he would never stand for something like this. There was no way he would let his lightning be taken to hurt others. That wasn't a part of who he was. It couldn't be.
He couldn't let them take it. And that left only one option.
Without a second thought, Jay backed up and stepped off of the ledge, hoping that there was something safe at the bottom. He could hear the confused voices of the others until the sound was swallowed by the wind rushing around his ears, his hair, his suit, enveloping him into it's cold embrace. A scream escaped him, short as it was taken away by the air around him. He could feel himself falling, his limbs losing control, his mind muddled with fear. The top of the cliff got smaller and smaller in his gaze, and Jay knew that he was running out of time.
Looking around frantically, he skimmed the cliff walls for anything he could hold onto, a tree, a vine, anything, but there was nothing. If only he had a grappling hook or something to catch him一
Wait. His teleporter. He could make a portal and get out of here!
Reaching for his belt, he grasped the small device in his hand, thankful that he hadn't lost it when he lost his gun. A part of him wondered why he hadn't thought of it before, but he was thankful that he did now.
The ground was rushing towards him, and Jay didn't waste a second turning the transporter on, setting it to any location other than this one, and pressed the button.
A portal swallowed him as he fell, and after that dizzying feeling that always came with teleporting, he landed on dusty ground with a huff. He heard a snap, followed by a burning pain in his arm, and he didn't even have the breath to cry out. All he could hear was the ringing in his ears, and darkness covered the rest of his vision.
Keep going. Survive. Survive. Survive.
With a rough groan Jay rolled onto his hands and knees, crying out as his left arm buckled under the weight of his body. He looked over at it, but closed his eyes as soon as he saw bone, his stomach swirling at the blood that seemed imprinted at the back of his eyelids. His legs quaked under him, but somehow he managed to get to his feet. Opening his eyes once more, avoiding looking at his arm, he looked around, and saw that he was teleported to a desert, the same one or different he didn't know. But he knew that the Administration would find him soon; they could track the teleporter; it was their own device after all.
Jay had to keep moving despite his pain, despite his fear. He had to escape. He couldn't give up. He couldn't quit.
And, for reasons he still didn't know, or never would, the words never quit continued with him with every footstep.
Rontu could always hear the sound of struggle. Like the changing winds, or the turning of the tides, something like voices of fear and suffering always reached her ears. Sometimes it was a whisper, other times it was loud, sometimes she could hear words, other times it was just murmurs, those that sounded terrified.
As often as she could feel those voices, she equally felt them quiet, peace and comfort no doubt pushing their fears away. She knew it was real peace, as the voices quieted gradually, not suddenly, and she found comfort in it. When the voices quieted, she knew that someone had helped them. Someone had saved those who the voices belonged to. She knew that, despite how she had retired from saving the world, that there were other protectors, people who brought safety, hope, inspiration, and peace. And it brought her comfort too.
Even after the Merge, she could hear the voices soften, and as time wore on even less and less voices could be heard. Whoever was saving Ninjago before was back, and was helping people like they always have.
A part of her always wanted to go and help those heroes, to quiet even more of the cries of fear, yet she knew that her time for battle had passed. Egalt would agree with her. They both fought their battle long ago. Now they could rest.
Yet, the voice that entered her ears now was different from the others. It was louder, no words echoing through its frantic tones but survive. It seemed lost, worried, yet determined, but so, so scared. It wasn't the kind of fear that was present in someone's mind, it was the fear that was rooted in someone's heart, in their entire being.
She had never felt something like this before. Rontu knew, in that moment, she couldn't sit and wait for the heroes to help that voice. She needed to stop the fear however she could. And, the voice was so strong it pulsed through her mind, sending shockwaves through her bones; whoever it was wouldn't be hard to find.
Was it a good idea? Perhaps not. Yet she had to help. No one should live with so much fear.
She slowly got up from where she was resting against the stones of her home, gaining the attention of Egalt, who lifted his head in response.
"What are you doing, Rontu? Surely you have nowhere to be."
"I do. There is one out there who needs me." She replied, watching him with a steady gaze.
"We've fought our battle. Now we can rest." Egalt urged, getting up himself, but Rontu turned away from him, stretching out her wings, preparing to fly a long journey, something that she hadn't done in years.
"I cannot rest as long as this being is so afraid. I must help. But you can stay here if you so wish, I will not argue."
Egalt's eyes took on a hard look, yet he knew as well as she did that Rontu wouldn't be swayed. "Fine. Go. But don't expect my help."
"I will not."
With a swift beat of her wings, she was in the air, with wind at her back and under her wings, guiding her to the cry of help. The fear still coursed through her, pulsing with every second that passed, strong enough that not even the sun on her scales could distract her. She tried to study the voice as she flew, yet there wasn't much she could gather other than the fear. What had this being gone through to be so afraid, that the fear was as deeply ingrained in them as their own self?
Rontu didn't know, but she wanted to find out. She was a protector, and she needed to protect this voice from whatever had come upon it.
The voice led her to a wide desert in between the Realm of Madness and some stray islands from Shintaro, an expanse of nothing but sand and heat. She knew that there were no water sources for miles on end, was that what the voice was scared about?
No. The cry was too full of terror, as if they were afraid of what was behind them as well as ahead.
She looked among the sands with an eagle eye, studying the rolling dunes for any signs of life, anything moving among the sand, and she finally spotted it. The voice. The being. The one who feared.
From her view above, it was a male human, with curly brown hair matted with blood, who dragged himself through the sand, holding his left arm protectively. He stumbled every so often, falling into the sand in the harder moments, forcing himself up slowly. The suit he wore was not a good outfit for the desert he traversed, and was covered in blood, and she knew that he needed her. There was no one else who could help him.
She didn't waste a second landing onto the sandy hills in front of the boy, ducking her head down to meet his gaze, expecting him to look up at her. He didn't. His eyes were still trained on the ground, despite how loud her landing must've been for him.
"I'm not going with you." He said, his small voice cracking. His body sagged with exhaustion, and Rontu knew that, if he didn't get help soon, he would die. Now that she was closer, she could see how injured the boy was. He had two burn injuries, one on his shoulder and one in the middle of his chest, a broken arm, and a bleeding head.
In her experience, only two kinds of people could continue walking with injuries such as these, those great warriors who knew pain, or the ones that had to continue on no matter what.
Something in her told her that this boy was both.
"I'll not force you to do anything, little one." Rontu said, her voice echoing across the expanse, and he finally looked up, his sapphire blue eyes widening as he took in her presence.
"I…I thought you were someone else." He said weakly, swaying where he stood yet still stayed standing. His legs were shaking, and his eyes were full of fear. She hoped that she could get rid of that fear.
"Is someone trying to take you?" She asked, yet the boy did not acknowledge her.
"Are…are you a talking dragon?"
Rontu found herself chuckling, despite the worry that blossomed in her chest. "Yes, I am Rontu, Dragon Master, protector of the realms. What is your name?"
The boy looked at her, his eyebrows furrowed, before his whole body went slack, his eyes closing as he crumpled to the sandy ground. Rontu didn't waste a second in walking forward to him. As gently as she could, she scooped him up with her wing, letting him gently slide down to her back, where she knew it was the safest for him. His hand grazed the scales where he laid, and with one piercingly clear moment, she sensed something different in him, something that felt like the sky above her and completely opposite to the ground underneath her paws. It felt like the power of lightning, thrumming under his skin like the very blood that kept him alive.
Could this be the Master of Lightning? If he was, what was he doing all the way out here? Who had hurt him? And why did his element feel weaker, like part of it had vanished?
She had very few experiences with elemental masters, yet those she knew had a powerful element within them, one that couldn't be stopped. Yet this one felt as if it could be snuffed out like a candle, taken out by one strong gust of wind.
The thought saddened her. Not only was the element weak, but the wielder was too, and was likely close to death. Who had done such a thing? Where were they?
Rontu felt something shift within her, rage building in her stomach, a righteous rage that she was familiar with, the rage that sought to bring the wrong to justice and help the innocent keep going. Yet she forced the rage down. She knew that the boy on her back needed help. She didn't have time to chase down whoever did this. If she did, he would die. It was not a fair trade.
Without a second thought, she beat her wings and lifted herself into the air, careful to keep steady for the boy resting on her back. Going slower than she ever had before, she made her way back to her home. She knew that she and Egalt could be his only chance at survival, not just for his physical body but for the element contained within him. It was her only option.
Like the voice, the boy, always said.
Survive. Survive. Survive.