The pale light of dawn seeped through the dense canopy, casting golden beams that dappled the forest floor. Morro stirred first, his sage-and-emerald-green eyes fluttering open to the soft hum of birdsong. The faint dew on the grass glistened like tiny stars, and the air was cool, carrying the earthy scent of the trees. For a moment, he sat there, rubbing his temples as the memory of the Mergequake flickered at the edge of his thoughts. He felt surprisingly steady—exhausted, but awake.
Deciding not to wake the others, he pushed himself to his feet and stepped away from the quiet camp. His stomach rumbled faintly, and he muttered to himself, "Guess it's time to see what this place has to offer for breakfast."
The deeper Morro ventured into the forest, the stranger—and more magical—it seemed. He passed trees with trunks that shimmered faintly as if dusted with powdered gemstones, their bark spiraling like coiled serpents. The leaves above him glowed faintly silver in the morning light, rippling as if responding to his very presence. The air felt alive, charged with an ethereal energy that hummed faintly beneath the surface of reality.
As he moved further, his footsteps brought him to a small clearing where the grass glowed faintly golden, like morning sunlight frozen in time. A cluster of berries hung from a nearby bush, their skin glinting like polished sapphires. Morro hesitated, crouching down to inspect them. "Not like anything from Ninjago..." he murmured. Each berry seemed to pulse faintly with light at his touch, as though whispering their magic into the world around them. Though tempted, he decided to keep moving—those didn't look particularly safe.
He soon came across a bubbling brook, but instead of flowing with clear water, the stream shimmered with liquid light—soft, shifting hues of blues, greens, and golds. It moved too gracefully to be natural, almost like molten silver weaving its way through the forest. Fish with transparent, crystalline bodies darted through the stream, their scales catching and refracting the liquid light into scattered rainbows.
A faint rustle caught his attention, and his gaze snapped toward its source. There, perched on a low-hanging branch, was what appeared to be a bird—if you could call it that. Its body shimmered like mother-of-pearl, translucent feathers fluttering like delicate ribbons in the breeze. When it chirped, its song resonated in the air, forming rippling echoes that spread outward like waves on a pond. The sound stirred something deep in Morro's chest—an unexplainable warmth.
As he continued wandering, he encountered a patch of enormous mushrooms, their caps luminescent and casting soft, multicolored glows onto the forest floor. Each step through the patch made the mushrooms emit a faint, musical hum, as if the ground itself was alive with melody. Morro paused, crouching near one of the tallest mushrooms to examine its peculiar glow. It radiated an energy that tickled his senses, reminiscent of the powers he wielded. "Ninjago's got nothing on this," he muttered under his breath, amazed by the strange ecosystem of this place.
The most bewildering sight, however, came when he stumbled upon what could only be described as a tear in the air itself. A faint, shimmering oval hung in the middle of the path, as though the forest had forgotten to stitch itself shut. Through it, Morro caught glimpses of otherworldly scenes—rolling seas of clouds lit by a pale green sun, spires of jagged crystal rising from a blackened landscape, and a meadow of floating flowers that bobbed weightlessly in the air. He blinked, stepping back cautiously, and the tear folded into itself as though it had never been there.
As Morro made his way back toward camp, his arms now laden with fruit that seemed a little more ordinary—golden apples and a few glimmering, purplish plums—he couldn't help but glance over his shoulder. He had seen magic before—plenty of it—but this forest was unlike anything he'd ever known. Even in the most magical places in Ninjago, things still made a certain kind of sense. But here? Nothing was predictable. Everything felt... alive, aware, as though it were watching and responding to him. And somehow, that unsettled him just as much as it fascinated him.
By the time he returned to camp, the sun was climbing higher, spilling light across the sleeping forms of his companions. Morro looked down at the fruit in his hands, then back at the glimmering forest beyond. "Breakfast might be the least interesting thing about this place," he muttered, a faint smirk tugging at his lips despite the unease still tingling at the back of his mind.
As the golden morning light filtered through the trees, soft chatter and the rustle of leaves marked the stirring of the camp. One by one, the others woke—Jirii rubbing his sapphire-blue eyes as he stretched out lazily, Silbón flickering faintly in translucent bursts as he hovered near the remnants of the campfire, and Zeph cracking his knuckles while muttering something about his aching shoulders. Even Yugi and Yami appeared, their spirits glowing faintly in the cool light of dawn.
Their sleepy expressions turned curious when Morro appeared from the treeline, his arms laden with glowing golden apples and shimmering plums from his early exploration. His sage-and-emerald-green eyes sparkled mischievously, and a cheery grin spread across his face as he proudly announced, "Breakfast is served—come and get it!"
Jirii blinked, looking at the unusual fruit skeptically. "Uh... Morro, are these... safe?" he asked hesitantly, eyeing the glowing produce in Morro's arms.
Morro rolled his eyes playfully, setting the fruit down with an exaggerated flourish. "Relax," he teased, "I picked the normal-looking ones. The glowing stuff is just magic... I think. Anyway, they smell fine—and I didn't keel over carrying them here. So... dig in!"
Zeph smirked faintly as he reached for one of the golden apples, giving it a cautious sniff before taking a careful bite. His stormy-green eyes widened slightly as the taste hit him—a mix of crisp sweetness and subtle magic that seemed to tingle faintly in his mouth. "Okay, you weren't kidding," he admitted, chewing thoughtfully. "These are... weirdly good."
The others followed suit, hesitantly picking at the fruit and finding themselves pleasantly surprised by the unusual flavors. Even Yugi looked intrigued, his golden-and-violet form flickering faintly as he took a cautious bite of one of the plums. "You might've found the most magical breakfast ever," he said with a soft smile, glancing at Morro.
Morro laughed lightly, leaning back against a nearby tree as he watched them dig into their meal. "Told you it'd be worth it," he said confidently, his grin widening. "Guess Ninjago doesn't have everything, huh?"
As the team continued to eat, the magical fruit began to have an uncanny effect—not in a way that alarmed them, but one that spread an unexpected warmth through their spirits. It wasn't just the taste, though that was vibrant and unlike anything they'd ever experienced; it was something subtler, more benevolent. The air around them seemed lighter, the lingering tension from the Mergequake dissipating as if carried away by an unseen breeze.
Jirii was the first to notice, his sapphire-blue eyes brightening as a smile crept across his face. "I don't know about you guys," he said, leaning back slightly, "but I feel... weirdly good? Like, not just normal good. Like, everything's going to be okay good."
Zeph smirked, tossing a half-eaten golden apple into the air and catching it effortlessly. "Might be the fruit," he said lightly, though his stormy-green energy rippled in a way that suggested even he wasn't immune to the strange yet welcome effect. "Whatever magic these things are made of, I'm not complaining."
Silbón rolled his translucent eyes, though even he seemed less guarded than usual. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered, his shadowy form flickering as he leaned against a tree, "it's definitely the fruit. Don't let it get to your heads."
Yugi chuckled softly, his golden-and-violet glow flickering with a faint warmth. "I don't know," he said, his tone light. "Maybe it's the magic—or maybe it's just nice to have a moment to relax, even if it's rare."
Amidst the cheerful atmosphere, Morro's sage-and-emerald-green eyes sparkled mischievously as he leaned forward, propping his chin on his hand. "You know," he began, his voice carrying a playful lilt, "this whole thing reminds me of something Master Wu used to say."
Jirii raised an eyebrow, already grinning as he asked, "Oh no. Are we about to get a Morro-ism?"
Morro smirked, straightening dramatically as he clasped his hands behind his back. His voice dropped into a calm, philosophical tone, exaggerated to the point of absurdity as he mimicked Master Wu's wise demeanor. "'Remember, my young pupils,'" Morro intoned gravely, "'a golden apple a day... keeps the Mergequake away.'"
The delivery was so over-the-top that for a moment, everyone was stunned into silence—before the laughter erupted all at once. Jirii clutched his stomach, doubled over as tears streamed from his sapphire-blue eyes. Zeph shook his head, his stormy-green energy rippling wildly as he chuckled deeply. Even Silbón let out a rare, genuine laugh, his shadowy form flickering with mirth.
Yugi giggled uncontrollably, his glow flickering brightly as he leaned on Yami for support. And Yami, for all his typical stoicism, allowed a faint, amused smile to curl his lips as he watched Morro's antics with quiet appreciation.
Morro grinned triumphantly, holding the pose for a beat longer before relaxing and flopping back onto the grass. "You're welcome," he said with mock humility, waving a hand as if to bask in their applause.
The laughter lingered, a lightness settling over the group that felt almost surreal after the tension of the previous night. For the first time in what felt like days, their spirits soared, lifted not just by the magic of the fruit but by the bonds that held them together.
But then Yugi straightened up, brushing off the lingering giggles from Morro's Master Wu impression. His golden-and-violet spirit flickered with excitement as he suddenly said, "Okay, okay, my turn! I'll do an impression of my grandpa—Solomon Muto." He cleared his throat dramatically, puffing out his chest as though embodying his grandfather's wise and charismatic demeanor.
The group exchanged amused glances, already intrigued by what Yugi was about to unleash. Yami folded his arms, his crimson eyes narrowing with quiet curiosity. "Let's see what you've got, Aibou," he said, the faintest trace of amusement curling at the edges of his words.
Yugi raised a single finger in a pose of exaggerated wisdom and attempted to deepen his voice, though it wavered awkwardly between too high and comically gruff. "'Ah, Yugi, my boy,'" he began, his tone wavering with forced authority, "'when I was a young man, the secret to everything was in... uh...'" He faltered for a moment, clearly struggling to remember where he was going with the impression.
Jirii snorted, barely holding back his laughter. "This is already a disaster," he whispered to Zeph, who smirked but didn't interrupt.
Yugi pressed on valiantly, still flailing through the attempt. "'Always remember, Yugi,'" he continued in his wobbly, unconvincing "Solomon" voice, "'the heart of the cards... I mean, the heart of life... is... um, very... powerful?'" His hand, still raised for dramatic effect, trembled slightly as his confidence visibly crumbled.
That was it. The group couldn't contain themselves any longer. Morro doubled over, clutching his sides as his laughter echoed through the clearing. "What even was that, Yugi?" he exclaimed between bursts of laughter. "I've heard pigeons do better impressions!"
Zeph shook his head, chuckling as he muttered, "I think I can feel your grandpa cringing from wherever he is."
Even Silbón, typically the most aloof of the group, let out a low laugh, his shadowy form flickering with amusement. "That was glorious," he admitted, his voice dry but laced with humor. "Gloriously bad."
Yugi, cheeks glowing faintly with embarrassment, threw up his hands in defeat, though he was grinning despite himself. "Okay, okay, fine! I admit it—I'm terrible at impressions!" he exclaimed, laughter bubbling up even as he tried to defend himself. "But, come on, you've got to give me points for effort!"
Yami's crimson gaze softened as he shook his head, a small but genuine smile tugging at his lips. "Aibou," he said gently, his tone carrying warmth despite his teasing words, "your effort is commendable... but your execution is another story entirely."
The group erupted into laughter again, the lightness of the moment a welcome relief from the chaos of the previous day. Though Yugi's attempt had been an epic failure, it brought them closer, their spirits lifted by the simplicity of shared humor and camaraderie.
