#zangst kind of

[mx-julien]

Zane is curious to a fault and that's my favorite flaw. refined version of this rough fic post from three years ago. now posted on ao3

Zane gets taken prisoner by the Mechanic. Nya and Cole are on the way, but will they get there in time? And why Zane?

CW: threats of robot violence (not carried out), canon-typical violence (people get beat up and walk away with a bruise or two)

///

Gray is called neutral for a reason. It doesn't offend any of the other colors. Not with red plastic wire jackets or the gold wiring inside, cradled by unpolished titanium plates. The only real light Zane has is falling onto the concrete floor and stretches up to his chest. Someone removed a Monopoly box-sized rectangle from the door and stuck wrought iron in. It's a far cry from the smooth round bars installed in Kryptarium. They should rethink calling him "Most Valuable Prisoner" if these are the conditions they put important people in.

Zane would halfheartedly kick at a rock, but all of his motors are shot except for the ones on his neck, abdomen, and right are. Also, there are no rocks nearby, so he lies there, half propped against a wall. His left arm is detached and strewn to the side of the cell in the corner.

The slivers of light are disturbed by a silhouette wearing a bowl hat. In a few moments, the door is open and The Mechanic stands inscribed in a rectangle of light that crawls towards the inside of Zane's cell, "Little nindroid," he leans in, keys jangling on his hip, "Don't count yourself lucky 'cause I'm not leavin' any time soon."

After a moment to process the double negative, Zane tries to right his head and gets about 70% there. His vision is still tilted slightly to the left. "You're the unlucky one," an exposed motor audibly whirs when he speaks. One good arm helps push his back further up the wall in an effort to look like he's sitting rather than considerably incapacitated. "And an idiot on top of that," he looks pointedly around the room, "Or did you not realize that you led us straight to your base?" Zane looks the mechanic in the one good eye he has.

He just laughs, "Like you'll ever make it back to tell 'em!" The clanging of loose gears punctuates every heave of his leather-clad chest.

Someone from behind yells, "Yeah!" and pumps a fist into the air while another curls one hand into a fist and hits it against their palm as an ode of what's to come. Oh joy.

Squinting, Zane can make out three goons of various sizes past the doorway. All of them are wearing tattered leather jackets and ripped acid wash jeans. Idly, he wonders if their 'Henchmen from an 80s movie' outfits come out of their paycheck or the boss'.

The Mechanic turns and screeches for them to be quiet.

Then he searches a large, and horribly inconvenient, key ring. After what feels like ages, he clips a particular key to his belt.

He sets his eyes on Zane and begins to creep forward into the cell, "You're going to give me that capacitor real nice like," he motions his hands in a 'come come' manner that Zane discovers he finds incredibly demeaning, "Or I'm gonna take you apart  'til I find it like the Good 'Ol Mechanic I am." He crouches, still out of arm's reach but too close for any semblance of comfort, "Like I've wanted to for so long. You get me?" Grinning, he shows off teeth adorned with gold and silver. Either he lacks dental hygiene or fancies the look of grillz.

The metal piece replacing his eye has a few lights in it that stare at Zane like they're expecting him to blink first. "We destroyed it-" narrowing his eyes before scoffing, "Do you really think we'd keep around a novel compact device capable of holding that much electricity?"

"No," The Mechanic stands up to full height and walks backwards to lean back on the cell wall, "I think you," he points at Zane, "Are curious enough to want it around to tinker with - to figure out all its little secrets and whatnot." A pause. "But smart enough to know that your other little friends wouldn't agree." He takes out a cigarette and flicks his lighter, illuminating the dank room. It is summarily snuffed out after serving its purpose; the butt of the cigarette glows a dark red. "You either have it or you know where it is." He draws in a breath and lets the smoke trickle out through his mustache.

Zane feels a tangible sense of checkmate as he sees the ash fall between oily human fingers. But it's not over yet. "Fine," he raises his head the last several degrees to straighten it fully, "But if I don't tell you where it is, how is taking me apart going to help? You'll never find it if I'm not intact."

"Tell it to me now," he shuts the door, letting it clang so loud it makes the tallest henchman flinch, "And you won't have to see me rilflin' 'round that chest of yours to see where the memory stick's at." He pulls a pair of foot-long pliers out of his toolbelt, wearing a smile that borders on the side of deranged.

This is Zane's own fault and he's fully aware that he deserves what's coming to him. But he can't help feeling relief when a door down the hallway is kicked in and "Hands off the nindroid!" echoes through the room.

The goons spring to their feet just in time for Nya to incapacitate the shortest one and trip the gangliest member against a wall. It's enough to keep her occupied that a woman with blond, curly hair puts her arms around Nya's neck in a choke hold. Out of reflex, Zane tries to move his left arm to grab a shuriken, only to be greeted by sparks that jump to the ground and fizzle out.

Nya widens her stance and attempts to flip her assailant onto the person slumped against the nearby wall. When the taller goon flips open a switchblade, she reconsiders just long enough for the Mechanic to make it over and brandish his brass knuckles. Stopped in her tracks, Nya lifts the feet of her attacker from behind just long enough to spin around and jerk backwards to smash the Mechanic into a wall.

She's not pay attention to the person with the knife. They've stood up and are mid-lunge when Cole barrels through the hallway, knocking the wind out of them and leaving them gasping for air on the floor. Nya still has an arm around her neck, but the woman attacking her is dazed. Cole grabs one of her arms, letting Nya twist out of the way. She snatches a pair of handcuffs from the henchman's belt, securing the woman's hands behind her back and around a table leg. Cole was checking the pulses of the other knocked out henchmen, so he didn't notice who had gone missing.

"Damn hard to find good help these days," not to be forgotten, the Mechanic quickly locks he cell door behind him and throws the keys across the room, coming to rest near what used to be the Zane's left elbow, "Oh well," his other hand grabs wire cutters out of an inner coat pocket, "Guess we'll have an audience, eh, nindroid?"

"Shit!"

He takes only two steps closer before the door groans and bends behind him. The Mechanic spins around, shocked. Nya chooses that moment to walk through the new opening in the concrete, drag him a few feet closer to her by grabbing his shirt, then punch his lights out.

Cole watches it happen, a few of his locs obscuring an eye, while he's still holding the door in his hands. Almost regarding it as a seasoned debate student would his notes. He promptly throws it aside after his eyes land on Zane's, rather dishevelled look.

"Hey buddy," he bends down at Zane's right side, putting a hand on his back so it's easier to sit, "Not looking too hot," he scans the room, finally able to process the extent of the damage, "What the hell did they do to you?"

"They tore that arm off," he uses his head to gesture to it, as if there are some other remains of a titanium android's arm lying around in close proximity, "And then it joined me as I was pushed off a building." Zane puts a hand on Cole's shoulder, "But I gathered what I could of it and I'm okay. All the important things are intact."

Finished with tying up the Mechanic, Nya walks in and surveys the damage she, Jay, and Pixal will have to repair, "What did they want from you, anyways?" She takes off her gi to use as a makeshift bag to hold the large arm plates she's picking up, "They seemed to specifically go after you once they regrouped."

Zane's lifted into the air, his legs uneven; the right side showing too many wires to be fully intact inside and the other being so crumpled it became an inch shorter. Cole's supporting all of his weight, one arm gripping the area where an arm used to be and his right holding on to the metallic one that's slung around his shoulders.

"The capacitor from last week."

"What about it?" Cole shuffles sideways through the opening so Zane's legs don't catch, "But you destroyed it a few days ago? Why'd they think- don't tell me you-"

Pointedly, Zane looks the hallway, admiring the bent door and its handle laying on the floor. Nya stands up, gi in hand, and leaves the cell, putting her free hand on her hip and sighing, "Zane. This is why we get rid of those things in the first place."

He waits a beat, feeling the eyes of his disappointed friends. Much Zane's body may be broken but his pride is in perfect working condition. They just didn't understand, clearly. "It stores energy so much more efficiently than anything we have developed right now. We don't even know if it's the design or the materials or-"

"Or what?" Cole readjusts his grip on him, making the loose pieces in his legs rattle and scrape together, "It could be important, sure, but is it worth it to get captured again? Damn it, Zane, we can't afford to worry about someone going missing or another burnt down monastery!"

"I-" the nindroid lets his head hang, giving him a clear view of the wreckage that is his lower half. His voice gets quieter, "There was some... collateral damage I hadn't fully taken into account."

After a few moments of silence, Nya gets out her phone to call the commissioner. His limp body is dragged out anther door and up several flights of spiral stone stairs onto the roof. Zane's set down against an air conditioning unit, propped up like a favorite tea time doll.

Cole sits down to his right, holding his one good hand. He takes the other to push hair out of his eyes. Taking a deep breath in, he methodically exhales after almost exactly ten seconds.

A full minute later, Cole tries to speak, "Just-" he turns his head to look away from Zane, to where the Bounty will presumably dock soon. "We can always get you one from Borg: the guy has everything," he squeezes his hand, "Except- except you. We only have one of you, and I'd like to keep this Zane in one piece."

There was no use pointing out that Borg does not have what he's looking for. "I'll..." letting his voice box draw out the word, he leans forward a little, catching Cole's eye, "restrain myself -  in the future, that is - when it comes to things like this."

Cole just nods, accepting the apology as one might tuck a missing letter into their pocket.

Zane's not forgiven yet, just understood.

Nya comes up after not much longer and sits where his left arm would usually be when it's not shattered into pieces.

Soon, the Bounty will descend out of the clouds, but right now it's tranquil. Zane closes his eyes, shutting off visual sensors and allowing his head to rest on the AC unit behind them. If he sits here long enough, he just might forget how damaged his legs are.

And how the capacitor sitting right next to his heart has never felt heavier.

~*~

set in a "vaguely after s8" timeline and Some General Robot Gore, but none of the End Of The Season Plot things. wanted to treat myself a little bit because I love underexplored character flaws and broken robots.

lmk if you want another chapter on the team's POV or the bit leading up to Zane's capture; or just throw me a prompt in my asks

[zanethepa1n]

Threats, and how to dispose of them.

Guess who wrote another zangst ficlet :3

!!! WARNINGS: Season 11 Spoilers, Suicide Ideation, Suicide Attempt

Read on Ao3

Summary

Zane has hurt people. Considering the circumstances, he will hurt more people. He is a danger to his friends-- he is a threat. As a ninja, it is his duty to protect Ninjago and his friends from threats such as himself. Therefore, he must be disposed of.

or

Shortly after coming back from the Never-Realm, Zane identifies himself as a danger to everyone around him and attempts suicide. Jay unknowingly saves his life.

Zane had always been the kind of person to attempt to handle dangerous situations delicately, and was usually fairly skilled at getting them under control without causing harm to whatever threat he may be attempting to contain…that being said, he felt as though this specific situation required less “mercy” (for lack of a better term).

---

For all of his life, or…most of it, at least, Zane had been taught that threats needed to be dealt with the moment they were identified as such– no matter how harmless it seemed at the time of discovery, it needed to be handled immediately, to prevent it from slipping under the radar and getting stronger. That was the whole purpose of being a defender of Ninjago, was it not? To protect it from harm? And that required disposing of threats as soon as they came to light.

The nindroid spun the pen in his hand before setting it down on the desk he was sitting at. The dull light of his old lamp dimly lit up the surface of the desk. It was a tidy space. The lamp was positioned in the top corner to the right, while a pen, pencil, and other supplies holder was positioned to the top left corner of the desk. In the middle, currently, was the note he was attempting to write (“attempting” because, well, he had not gotten very far, and he did not have much time left to finish it), and the pen he had just set down, of course. His tired gaze shifted to the nearby alarm clock, and he let out a sigh. Four in the morning. He only had a few hours until his friends woke up. Pixal was always the first to wake up, if she was not already awake, but she spent most of her time in the Samurai X cave. Her awakening would be followed by Lloyd, then Nya, and then Kai, Cole, and Jay were normally woken up simultaneously by Lloyd and/or Nya. Zane shifted his free hand to rub at his eyes as he looked back down at the note and began to give it a quick proofread.

As he finished the short proofread, he decided to just rush the note. It would not turn out exactly as he had hoped but, as long as it conveyed the message he needed it to, it would be fine. Zane leaned over the paper, picking his pen back up and returning to writing. Despite his best effort, he continued to find it rather difficult to focus.

Perhaps this was an overreaction. It did not…feel like an overreaction, but that was only in his own opinion. How would his friends feel about this? Pixal? Master Wu? Zane narrowed his eyes slightly at the latter name. He wasn’t in the mood to think about Master Wu’s opinion at this current moment. Quickly, his gaze softened and his scribbling on the paper grew a bit more aggressive.

See, this was exactly why this needed to be dealt with in a different way than other threats were! He could not keep his own emotions in check, and that mixed with him having elemental powers that responded strongly to emotions (especially negative ones), and his negative emotion output only having been increased since his recent return from the Never-Realm, and…ah, there was no point in listing it all, the list could go on forever. The point was, he could not be trusted. He was a threat. To Ninjago, to his friends. To everyone and everything.

Therefore, he needed to be dealt with. Disposed of.

Zane rose to his feet, carefully setting the pen back down beside the note. No matter how strongly his friends might believe this was an overreaction, they could not argue with logic.

…Although, Zane doubted they would end up arguing much against his decision, at the end of the day, despite how much it pained him to think about. He did not blame his friends for that, though. It was not their fault that he had allowed himself to harm people like he had– no, no, “harm people” was much too light of a way to phrase what he had done. He had murdered. He had wiped an entire species to extinction, nearly two, had he killed the formlings rather than just freezing them. He had tortured an entire civilization for years. Decades. And then, if it was not bad enough already, he’d almost killed Lloyd. He doubted his friends knew even half of what he had done in the Never-Realm– to the Never-Realm. He and Lloyd were the only ones who knew that he had even been the Ice Emperor at all. He had not told anyone but, had Lloyd?

The thought made Zane’s stomach twist in knots (metaphorically, of course). It was already devastating enough watching Lloyd shrink into himself every time Zane came anywhere near him. Anytime Zane was in Lloyd’s general vicinity, he would back away, stutter, attempt to appear smaller in any way he could. Lloyd was terrified of him. The child he used to read bedtime stories to (and still did, on occasion, whenever he had trouble sleeping), the child who rambled to him nonstop for hours about Starfarer…scared of him.

Zane could not imagine the rest of his friends reacting similarly, too. He could not bear watching everyone he loved grow fearful of even being in his presence. It felt selfish to admit, even to himself, but…that was part of the reason he had decided on this. The guilt, and the…overwhelming fear.

The nindroid fidgeted with his hands as he moved to sit on his bed. Frost creeped up his fingertips, and he quickly wiped it away. This was another reason he was doing this. Zane’s powers had always had a close link with his emotions, as mentioned before but, since his return from the Never-Realm, that link had gotten much more…intense. His element had always given slight hints to how he was feeling, such as frost forming on his fingertips, or the temperature around him dropping greatly, but now it was worse. The night of his return from the Never-Realm, for example. The moment he had gotten left alone in his room and the adrenaline had worn off everything and he began to process everything that had happened, he just…fell apart. He could not stop crying. Spires of ice shot from the ground. He nearly froze himself to the floor.

What if that happened again, but he was near his friends? Or, First Master forbid, while he was engaged in combat in Ninjago City? He was a threat. It was as simple as that. No worries. Zane knew how to dispose of a threat.

He let out a steady breath as he sat down on his bed. He could not back out now. He would not allow himself to put his friends in danger.

Zane stared blankly at the floor of his bedroom as his hand found and tightly grasped the bundle of wires he was looking for. He took a deep breath. This was for the best. With a final exhale, Zane–

Not wanting to risk wasting any more time, Zane drowned out his doubts and lifted up his sweater. His hand quickly found the handle of his chest panel and, with a quiet click, popped it open. It had not taken him long to decide on which method he wanted to use. His chest panel contained an abundance of wires, all of varying importance to his overall functioning capabilities. Simply grabbing a select handful of them and ripping them all out would, theoretically, hopefully, cause enough damage to shut down a majority of his vital systems, whilst also causing enough damage to be irreparable by the time his friends found him. Obviously, there were much quicker and painless ways to go about this, but…Zane did not quite feel comfortable allowing himself to die that way. Not after what he had done. He did not deserve that.

Suddenly, the nindroid released the wires and his eyes grew wide as he snapped his head towards his bedroom door.

He heard footsteps. Footsteps. Someone was awake. Zane’s hands were trembling. He felt like he could barely breathe, even though he did not need to breathe either way. There was a knock at his door, followed by a quiet voice.

“Zane? Buddy?”

Jay. It was Jay. Zane stayed silent. If he stayed completely quiet, Jay would think he was asleep, and he would leave. And Zane could get this over with.

But he didn’t leave.

“Hey, man, uh…” Jay paused, giving Zane room to respond, or even just acknowledge his presence, but Zane did not. After a second or two of silence, Jay let out a small sigh, and continued. “...I know you’re awake.” Zane held his breath. “I heard you walking around, earlier. But, um..” Jay paused, again. “...I can’t sleep, either. Sorry if I’m overstepping or something but I’m just…I’m really worried about you. You were in awful shape when you got back from the Never-Realm, and you need repairs so bad! But I never even get the chance to ask 'cause you keep avoiding me– all of us. You keep cooking and cleaning and acting like everything is fine and I…I know it’s not. I know it’s not okay. I know you’re not okay.”

Silence, again. Zane felt tears collecting in his eyes. He said nothing. He did not know how to respond.

After another moment of quiet, Jay continued, like he had before, but this time the concern in his voice was stronger. “...Zane?”

Zane stood from his bed, closing his chest panel and tugging his sweater back down.

“...My apologies. Give me a moment,” Zane replied as he wiped his eyes. He heard a muffled sigh of relief from the other side of the door.

“Nah, don’t worry! Take your time!” Jay replied.

Zane turned around, his gaze settling on the note, still on his desk, illuminated by his dim lamp. He grabbed the paper, crumbling it in his hand and dropping it into the trash bin beside his desk. His heart ached. His very being screamed in despair. He regretted this decision the moment he stood up. He should have waited for Jay to leave, because now his plan was ruined. Now he would not get another chance. Now his friends were in danger. And it was his fault.

Zane wiped tears from his eyes and turned to the door, approaching it. He hesitated, still contemplating turning back around and finishing what he had already started…but he did not. He rested his hand on the doorknob and pulled the door open.

He knew just from the way Jay’s expression fell that he looked awful.

They stared at each other for an uncomfortable few seconds, before Jay eventually broke the silence.

“...Repairs?” he prompted, a nervous smile coming to his face. Zane stared Jay down, considering for a moment.

“...Repairs,” Zane agreed, stepping out of his doorway and shutting the door behind him.

“Oh, thank the first MASTER!” Jay exclaimed, followed by laughter and a clearly relieved sigh. “I thought you weren’t gonna come out! I gotta get all my tools ready– come on!” Without sparing another moment, Jay turned and darted off down the hall. Zane turned his head to glance back at his door, hesitating, but quickly shook his head. It was obvious that his friends needed him. Cared about him. They were willing to help him through this. If that was not something to continue living for, Zane wasn’t sure what else possibly could be.

As a faint smile tugged on Zane’s lips, he turned, taking a deep breath before calling after Jay and following him down the hall.

[rubeebeeb]

I’m a little bummed they didn’t go harder with the concept of Zane turning his emotions off. It’s not that it was handled poorly or anything, in fact I really enjoyed it, I just wish they had done a little more with it or taken it in another direction bc I feel like that could’ve been just. Very very good.

Like 1st: For the most part, everyone just treated it as an “eh whatever I guess that’s happening” situation, and ik there was a lot of other stuff going on so they couldn’t really give it their full attention, but like, it’s kind of a big a deal? Zane turning his emotions off removes a part of his humanity, which everyone knows is really important to him, plus it’s also just super unhealthy overall, so I wish more members of the team were more concerned about it, yknow?

2nd: Like yeah I know I’m a sucker for zangst so I’m kinda biased, but beyond that, I feel a lil let down that when he turned his emotions back on, he was just all good and fine and happy.

I wanted to see him turn his emotions back on and just be. Genuinely super emotional. I wanted him to cry a lil bit, just switch them back on and immediately break down, bc I feel like he needed to? He’d been suppressing all that for the sake of being more productive, and then the whole lesson he learns is about how feelings like grief are as important as any other feelings, so I feel like we should’ve seen him actually experience that.

He should’ve switched his emotions back on and felt all the negative emotions he’d been suppressing all that time, and it should’ve been shown to be something he is ok with now, something he was letting himself feel and actually deal with healthily bc he understands that they are important. I just think that would’ve really added to the whole lesson he learned but idk.

So far the season is trying to give equal focus to every character, and there’s a lot of other stuff going on plot-wise, so of course Zane’s problem can’t have too much focus or hold up the plot or anything, but I still think they could’ve done a lil more with it without it being too much.

(And as always Cole also deserved more focus. He was just kinda there keeping it together while everyone else was going through it, but if keeping it together is how he copes, that deserved some attention as well)

Those are just my thoughts though

[razzle-zazzle]

Whumptober Day 20: Toto, I have a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore...

Alt Prompt: Memory Loss. So kind of Lost, but also kind of not.

1140 Words; Apprentice AU

Garmadon was absolutely not allowing his son to go to Chen’s Island. But the choice had been taken out of his hands.

If Lloyd was going to go to Chen’s Island, he would not be going alone.

The choice to jump the gap and board the boat was obvious. Taking on a mentor role for his brother’s students alongside mentoring his son was unexpected, but nonetheless very sensible.

Dealing with Clouse, on the other hand…

Garmadon supposed it was inevitable karma. Clouse wasn’t the most unpleasant person Garmadon had ever had the displeasure of meeting, but he was most certainly far too petty about a rivalry that didn’t exist anymore.

He’d also picked up an apprentice at some point.

And he was being incredibly too smug about it, as though there was something he knew that Garmadon didn’t. True, Clouse knew many things that Garmadon didn’t—mostly magic related—but Garmadon felt like there was something more to it, something obvious that he was missing.

Clouse’s apprentice wasn’t all that assuming—he was tall, sure, and almost imposing in that mask he was wearing, but the almost timid way he held himself spoke more of a gentle disposition.

Whoever he was, Garmadon resolved to keep an eye on him. Something about the boy Clouse had taken as an apprentice just didn’t sit right.

But for now, Garmadon would watch and wait.

+=+=+=+=+

Something was wrong.

No, that wasn’t quite right. Rather, the Apprentice realized, something was not right. Not necessarily wrong, but most certainly off.

Perhaps it had to do with the Elemental Masters competing in Master Chen’s tournament?

That might be it, but that wasn’t really the Apprentice’s concern—Skylor was the one handling that.

Or maybe it was the Stranger in the cell? Well, he had a name, but the Apprentice felt that referring to the automaton as “the Stranger” just had a more… interesting feel to it. Interesting was certainly the word for why the Apprentice had started talking to him during his lunch hour.

It probably was the Stranger—or rather, what the Apprentice was planning to do during tomorrow’s conversation.

The Apprentice seldom showed his face if he could avoid it—it was why he’d taken the time to painstakingly craft and paint his mask, and why he’d always eat in private before going to the Stranger’s cell. It wasn’t that the Apprentice felt himself ugly, or had something to hide; he just got this strange feeling whenever he saw his face. And Master Chen, as per his vanity, had more than enough mirrors lining the halls that the Apprentice frequented.

In fact, he was standing in front of one now. It wasn’t one of Master Chen’s extravagant ones, but a simple mirror in one of the many washrooms for the various staff. It was cracked in the upper corner, and this washroom wasn’t frequented often—perfect for the Apprentice to make sure this was what he wanted to do.

With a sigh, he removed his mask.

Brown eyes stared back at him. His hair was mussed up a bit by his hood, but that hardly mattered. It was a face that was oh-so familiar, and yet—

It didn’t look right.

It wasn’t his eyes—those were unmistakably his eyes, a warm gentle mahogany. It wasn’t his skin, which was the same shade it always was this time of year. It wasn’t his disheveled hair or the tiredness of his expression, nor was it his teeth when he attempted a smile.

But something was irrefutably off.

Something knotted and almost ugly settled in his stomach the longer he looked. Something was off, and the Apprentice couldn’t figure out what. The answer was right there on the tip of his tongue, and he could not for the life of him figure it out. It was like an itch he couldn’t scratch.

Thoroughly dissatisfied, the Apprentice put the mask back on. That was much better.

“I should go see him now…” Yes, he should go see the Stranger. It would be rude to keep the automaton waiting.

+=+=+=+=+

Zane’s time on this island had not been the best.

Though that was kind of obvious, what with him being locked up in a cell with his only pleasant visitor being Clouse’s apprentice.

Who had refused to give a name when asked, but it was hardly Zane’s place to pry.

Pixal disagreed.

In fact, as Zane had been expecting, the apprentice showed up, only a little later than the usual time. They sat down not far from Zane, their back to the door.

“Hello, Stranger.” They greeted. Zane returned the greeting. It was their little game, the little routine they’d worked out.

“I couldn’t bring you any food today.” They said, “I’ll bring extra tomorrow to make up for it.”

Zane smiled sadly. “You know I do not need to eat.”

“Yes, but I also know you enjoy it.” They replied. Oddly, they were fiddling with the ends of their sleeves, as if they were nervous about something.

Zane tilted his head curiously. “Is something wrong?”

“No, I don’t think so.” They said softly. “There’s… something I wish to do, but… I’m nervous.”

Zane considered that. “Well, if the thing you wish to do is difficult, then it makes sense for you to be nervous.”

“It’s not… difficult, exactly.” They swallowed. “I don’t really like showing my face, but… I trust you.”

They took off their mask.

And with that simple, innocent action, Zane’s world went screw-eyed, turned on its head by the face of the person before him.

Zane had listened to the gossip of passing guards. He had heard the apprentice himself talk in passing about the tournament. About how the ninja—his brothers were there, likely come to find him.

So why was Cole of all people sitting in front of him, mask in hand? Why was Cole of all people supposedly Clouse’s apprentice?

And if Cole was doing this to rescue Zane, then what kind of long game was he trying to play?

“Is… is something wrong?” Cole asked, his face the image of placid concern.

Zane stared blankly. “Cole…?”

Cole stiffened. “What did you just say?”

“Cole.” Zane stated. “What are you doing?”

“My name isn’t Cole.” Cole muttered.

That was very concerning. “I’m sorry, what? Cole, you’re not making any sense.”

“That’s not my name!”

“What has gotten into you?”

Cole glared. “Nothing. Nothing’s gotten into me. I’m an apprentice mage and my name is not Cole.”

“Cole—”

“Stop calling me that!” Cole roared, standing up abruptly. Gold hummed in the air around him.

Cole sighed, replacing his mask. “I’m sorry.” He turned around to leave.

“Wait, I—”

Cole paused in the doorway, hands shaking. “I won’t bother you again.”

And then he was gone.

And Zane was once again alone, with far too many questions and not enough answers.

What had happened to Cole?

[destinysbounty]

Okay, so, for the sake of some Ninjago fics I've been working on, I decided to do some research into how AI and computers actually work. If I'm gonna write Zangst then it had better be accurate, dammit. And. Well. I came upon a discovery I think a lot of Zane stans will find...interesting

Bear in mind I'm just an amateur who's only put about three days of research into this, but here goes.

As far as I understand, digital memory comes in two forms - volatile and nonvolatile. Nonvolatile memory is the permanent stuff, like hard drives and memory cards and SSD and whatnot. This stuff never goes away unless you actively delete it, or the permanent storage fails/gets corrupted in some way. Volatile memory, on the other hand, gets wiped whenever the system shuts down. Common types of volatile memory include RAM (Random Access Memory) and the memory cache, which are both volatile quick-access systems that catalog the most commonly used files and active program info so they can be accessed quickly. Data on programs that are open get stored in RAM, and unless its backed up into permanent storage then all their data is deleted when the computer turns off. This is why a word doc will delete everything if you close out of it without saving your work. Im oversimplifying a bit but that's the basic gist.

This does seem to work in line with the Ice Emperor incident. He appeared to have some kind of momentary shutdown/deactivation/reboot, and the computer literally stated "memory cache empty". And as stated before, cache memory is a volatile quick-access type of memory like RAM. But where RAM stores program info, cache stores frequently used data. So when Zane shut down, it cleared his memory cache and with it a lot of his memories. Id be willing to bet the glitching probably had some kind of effect on his ability to access permanent storage too.

As for his brief amnesia spell in season 4, again he had some kind of shutdown, clearing his volatile memory and causing a momentary lapse of recall. But this time, his permanent storage wasnt affected at all. Permanent storage takes much slower to access, hence why quick-acccess methods like RAM and cache are used to boost processing speed, but you can still access those files. It'll just take a while. Which is why Zane only needed a few moments before he was able to remember Pixal.

Of course, Zane is a highly complex AI the likes of which doesn't yet exist in the real world, so naturally his memory and file storage processes won't work exactly as a computer would. But I feel it's safe to say that similar processes would be at play here. It would certainly explain why both times he was able to recover memories that were lost or deleted.

"Defragging", as Zane mentioned in the Core shorts, is the process of repairing fragmentation. Fragmentation is when the contents of a single file get spliced into multiple different locations instead of one space, making access more difficult. Common causes for this are installing certain applications and editing or deleting a large number of files. Basically, the more you screw around with memory files, the more prone to fragmentation they get. So the question shouldn't 'be which memories is Zane defragging?', but rather 'which memories did he delete in order for defragging to become necessary?'

Now, if anyone is more experienced and knowledgable about this subject i would absolutely love to hear your input. But this is the product of my research, and idk I just find it interesting in the context of Zane.

[hoperoiselover]

Hey busters! I’ve been busy with new ideas for stories and AUs! Sorry for not post any stories recently but here! Made a dreamcore/truamacore image that kind of reminded me of Zane from Ninjago. Since the shorts came out I noticed how Zane stated that he had put some memory offline and a lot of other people are talking about how he deletes his own memory and I just love Zangst <3  Soo ye :] also i just got the back ground image from google 👍 

[miraculous-ninjabird]

You wanted my Zangst thoughts? Have them

TW for: talks of panic and paranoia in regards to memory. Ask to tag for anything else

Zane’s already got a flakey past with memory in regards to the whole memory switch deal. I think its the one thing that as a nindroid, Zane would be hyper aware of. The fact that unlike his human friends, his memories are not safe, and could be compromised at anytime.

The time as the Ice Emperor in the Neverrealm. He was attacked while vulnerable, had his memory wiped, and then spent 40+ years doing all sorts for horrible and atrocious things. I think as a way to try and cope with what happened, Zane would blame part of his on his lack of memories.

The idea that the whole thing may not have happened if he’d been aware of himself and had the knowledge needed to make the right choice.

But instead, memoryless Zane trusted the wrong person because he’s programmed to see the good in others, and we all saw what happened.

I think the end result should have been Zane becoming paranoid.

TIME TO ANGST ZANE YEAH

Zane super defensive becomes about anyone (even himself) having access to his memory drive. He begs and begs and begs Pixal to help him lock his memories away where nobody can access them. He's also now super paranoid that someone already has access to them and is changing things around.

His logic and reasoning skills go entirely out the window in relation to that kind of stuff. Forgot something? Pixal scan me someone must have deleted it. Remember something different than someone else did? Runs 9572 Diagnostic scans to confirm it hand't been tampered with. Anything, any little glitch, sends him into a panic. God Forbid anybody get anywhere near the access port to his memory drive.

He refuses to ever shut down, for fear that while he was 'sleeping' someone would come in and alter his memories. This, as one would expect, causes all sorts of problems. They can't do repairs on him in the same way because he either won't let them or it would be too painful to preform while he was awake (You can't tell me that some repairs aren't painful). Zane is so paranoid that it begins to bleed into his processing and sensors, and start to cause memory issues in its own way. The lack of allowing himself to shutdown for rest and updates and repairs does nothing but contribute to the problem. I’d imagine he may even start having hallucinations. Just overall not a good time for him. Like, at all.

It takes a long time to start feeling safe again, even with the others.

As he builds up trust once again with his team, it progresses to the point that he will sleep, but only totally alone in a locked room with someone guarding every available exit. And while thats a huge pain for everyone else, they'd do anything to see Zane start to recover from this horrible traumatic experience.

All of this because he is afraid someone is going to take advantage of him and turn him bad again. The time he spent as Ice Emperor, he did some truly awful things, that went against everything he stands for and his core base programming. He hurt his friends. He never ever ever wants to be in that situation again.

In part inspired by something @spinchip wrote awhile back. That can be seen here

[haha-ninja-go-brr]

weyo? ronnie working on a fic?

its more likely than u would think

Zangst fic sneak peak

Zane slams the door of the bathroom behind him, finding himself breathing heavily despite his nindroid body. He tries to collect himself, his mind foggy and full of unfamiliar sounds.

He approaches the sink, and looks at his reflection in the mirror, a thin layer of frost creeping onto the edges of the glass, leaving his reflection silhouetted by it.

Zane stares into his own icy blue eyes, glowing softly. He looks at the ice covering his hands, the way it crawls up his arms and leaves him stiff. Zane has never felt any fear of his ice, yet as he watches the ice slowly move up to encase his entire lower arm, he can’t help but feel slight alarm.

He tries to shake it off by looking back at his own face, but to his surprise, his reflection is looking away from him, as if it were alive.

He’s even more surprised when it speaks to him.

“Do you blame yourself?” His voice says from the mirror.

“What?” Zane’s mind is reeling, the indistinct sounds he’s been haunted by all day growing a little clearer, but not enough to discern.

“It is common in this situation for patients to feel a kind of.. guilt.” The sounds get louder with every word spoken by his reflection, and his vision changes to scanning mode without his input. Static pulses and flickers as he tries to make sense of what is happening, his reflection morphing slowly.

As the sounds grow clearer, he responds. “Guilt? What situation?”

Zane can hear them perfectly now, the sounds he tried desperately to push to the farthest reaches of his memory. The sounds of those from the Never-Realm. As he hears the roar of his dragon, his mind races with memories of his arrival in the realm, getting the mech to safety, recording his message, and attempting to reboot the mech. The voice of Vex echoes in his mind, telling him of his role as the true ruler of the realm.

As his vision clears, he looks once again to his reflection.

Staring back at him is the Ice Emperor, and he speaks to Zane.

“The accident.”

[zebra-all-the-time]

Help me compose a list of Ninjago fandom slang because for some reason we have it and it makes me happy. I say “we” a lot in this but I promise you I do not take credit for making or starting any of these.

•FSM - stands for First Spinjitzu Master and we often use in the place of the word “god.” It’s a reference to the person (person? being?) who created the world of Ninjago. We think we’re funny. We are.

•Zangst - a special kind of angst for the character Zane. He needs a break but we don’t give it to him. Instead we made a category of fan content specifically making bad things happen to him and named it after him.

[lloydskywalkers]

what stays and what fades away

Here I am yet again with season finale aftermath fic, because it’s my favorite thing to write about and we, um....could’ve used some more of it, after that one.

Anyways full disclosure this is straight-up angst that takes a hard left turn into sap somewhere along the way, and I’m posting with less edits than I want but it is laTE so! Here is my take on some Zangst ™️

His hands will not stop shaking.

It’s an odd thing, a subtle, rattling kind of tremor that starts in his fingers and spreads up his arms, until he’s forced to cross his arms tightly for fear of it spreading further. It lives there, trembling in his hands the entire trek back across the snowy wilderness, through every one of his family’s stories, and only worsens as they reach the village.

Zane doesn’t understand it. He’s not supposed to shake like this.

But he doesn’t understand how the villagers can look on him in kindness, either, so his vision might simply still be frosted over.

His hands keep shaking, all throughout the cheers and reunions and goodbyes. Zane watches as the villagers embrace his family, hoping desperately they won’t pull him into the mix. He watches the excited children that swarm around Kai’s legs, watches as his brother pushes back the heavy exhaustion that lurks behind his eyes to smile, lighting bright little flames from his fingertips for them. There’s a relief behind his eyes that Zane spots, and he remembers, with a flash, that last he’d seen Kai, his powers had been lost.

It’s only been a matter of days, or weeks at most, for his family since then. Their eyes are not dulled in age, as so many of this realm’s inhabitant’s are.

And yet it feels so very, very long ago for him.

His family finally pulls him closer, forcing him into the mix, and Zane’s heart stutters in fear. But the old woman who faces him has nothing but kindness in her face, and care in her touch. Her eyes hold a kind of gentleness that reminds him keenly of his father, and for a moment, Zane wants to cry.

Then the woman speaks, and she thanks him.

She thanks him for freeing them, for overthrowing Vex, for ending their eternal winter. Her words spread through the crowd of villagers and they echo her with words like hero and savior.

For a moment, Zane can’t breathe. Had he eaten anything in the past decade, he might throw it up.

He might be sick, anyways. The fiery ache in his gut suggests he is.

______________________________________________________________________

Zane’s hands refuse to stop shaking even as the bright whites and cold blues of the Never Realm fade away to the vivid colors of their own realm, even as the frost and ice that’s lived perpetually in their clothes and hair finally starts to melt, condensing in the sun and dripping down their foreheads and noses, soaking their clothes.

Jay snickers as Kai’s hair droops under the weight of the moisture, and Cole rings his shirt out with a wry expression as Lloyd wrinkles his nose, swiping droplets from his eyes before Nya finally sweeps the water from their skin effortlessly, her smile bright as the water bends easily under her power.

Zane stands still, letting the droplets bead at the end of his fingers before falling to the ground. He moves his hand slightly, watching the light shift, and for a moment, the droplets are colored dark red.

Then Nya gently touches his hand, the water evaporating from his skin, and she smiles at him.

“Don’t want you rusting.”

Zane feels as if he already has. He musters a smile back for her, but he’s careful to keep his distance. He’s careful not to touch.

He’s been wary of that — he’s allowed himself that first hug, that first tight embrace from Lloyd, his little brother’s shoulders trembling as he clung to him, the rest of his family piling on soon after. He allowed himself that, and tells himself it was already more than he deserved.

He returns Sensei Wu’s embrace when he throws himself at him, because Zane remembers family and a comforting hand on his shoulder. He presses his face against Pixal’s when she clambers onto him, because he’s missed her like a wound and her laugh is brighter than any sun.

But then the others follow through the portal, their faces raw and scabbed from cold, bruised and tired and their eyes suddenly older than Zane’s memories show him, and he draws back.

His hands are shaking again. An error.

He does not trust them to touch.

“It might just be the time,” Jay offers later, as they piece themselves together once again, his eyebrows furrowed as he tries to inspect Zane’s hand. Zane yanks it from his reach before he can, fear spiking like ice in his throat. His voice won’t work to excuse the error, but Jay’s eyes soften anyways, and he draws back. Understanding.

As if any of them understand what he’s done.

“Maybe he's cold,” Lloyd suggests. Jay laughs at that, and even Sensei cracks a smile.

Zane does not.

Lloyd doesn’t, either.

_______________________________________________________________________

His vision is clearer than it’s been in years, and yet Zane finds the world moves in a hazy fog around him.

Pixal is a steady guide beside him, her eyes sharp in concern as Sensei ushers them back into the monastery — home, and if it wasn’t for his memories telling him it’s been years, Zane could’ve sworn it’d been yesterday he’d woken up here, the nightmare fading from his eyes in the light of his family.

Oh, how he wishes.

He doesn’t take Pixal’s hand, but he lets her lean close, her shoulder knocking against his in a supportive comfort as they crash around the room they use for injuries, for emergencies and patch-ups and after-mission recovery. Zane’s vision remains hazy until his family is sitting down around him, and then it clears into sharp, painful clarity.

They’re exhausted, all of them — tired-eyed, thinner and paler than they were. They’re littered in scrapes and bruises and the now-familiar blistered skin of frostbite. Cole’s arms are a spectacular horror in and of themselves, protecting only by the sheer force of his power, and Sensei spends ages fretting over him.

“I’m fine, Sensei, I’m — ow, ow—“

Given that Cole’s arms are as red as Kai’s uniform and the slightest movement has him wincing, he is wildly unsuccessful at convincing anyone of this, and ends up confined to a bed right next to Lloyd.

The others aren’t much better off. Nya’s lips are so chapped they’re still bleeding, her hands raw and scraped where she worries them, constantly sniffing from her running nose. Jay refuses to sit still, bouncing from foot to foot as if to banish the remaining cold, the skin where his freckles fleck bright red and ugly from blistering. And Kai— Kai is frost-bitten and bruised and his hands —

Zane didn’t know Kai could burn, but he has. Kai’s hands — worn, familiar hands, hands that protect — are burned and blistered, forever scarred by the lengths he went.

“You pushed it too far,” Sensei Wu tells him gravely, Kai wincing as he spreads salve on his hands. “Your power is great, but your body has limits.”

Kai’s eyes hold no regret. “I had too,” is all he says. He had to take that risk.

A risk to stop Zane.

Zane’s chest is in knots, his gut writhing like Aspheera’s snakes have set fire to it. His hands clench and unclench in his lap, the tremors growing worse.

He does not want to watch Lloyd. He does not want to recall the memories he has of Lloyd’s heartbroken eyes, of the crack of breath as ice slammed against his little brother’s chest. But he forces himself to.

He forces himself to, because he realizes, rather quickly, that he’s overlooked something. An error, one Zane does not realize until later. One he does not realize until Kai runs a shaking hand over the ice-burned skin of Lloyd’s arms and neck, until Lloyd doubles over with his eyes screwed up in pain against the bright lights above them. Nya’s already taken care of the gash at the corner of his head, just past the ends of his hair, an ugly, streaking thing that speaks of cruelty and carelessness.

Kai’s eyes burn hot. “Who—“

“Vex.”

Lloyd’s answer is firm and unshaken, steady in a way Lloyd never is when he lies.

“Vex,” he repeats, even as the bruise on his shoulder that looks like the edge of a step turns purple. Even as the reddened mark of blistered cold on his wrist takes the shape of a handprint. “Vex did this.”

There is an error in Lloyd’s words, and an error Zane has overlooked.

Lloyd is the only one who set foot in the frozen throne room.

Lloyd is the only one who saw him.

_______________________________________________________________________

“It’s okay, Zane,” Cole tells him softly, after Zane has violently jerked away from his touch. “You didn’t mean to. It’s alright, we get it.”

Zane shakes his head, unable to look at him. They do not understand. They cannot.

They would not allow Zane to remain among them, if they did.

_______________________________________________________________________

“Can you make it snow?”

Zane is confused at the voice, at first. He then realizes that the source is below his eye-level, only coming up to his waist and tugging at the edge of his gi. The newest addition to their family, the newest color to join their bright array.

Lloyd stares up at him, red eyes inquisitive under his unruly mop of hair.

“I am…sorry?” Zane asks, as his question registers.

Lloyd rolls his eyes. “Can you make it snow. Like, for snowmen, and sledding, and stuff. Y’know, snow.”

“Oh.” Zane blinks. He knows snow. The snow of Birchwood, the snow he found his powers in. The snow of his home, where his father had lived, once.

Kai would tell him his feelings are mixed, about snow.

“I…suppose I can,” he says, feeling the pulse of the golden weapons in his blood, tied to his power. He feels the same pulse echo through him as Lloyd grabs his hands, his eyes excited.

“Show me,” he demands.

Zane blinks, but he finally smiles, relenting. He bends his knees until he’s at Lloyd’s level, carefully cupping his hands, holding them out so Lloyd can see. With a gentle tug, he brings the softest of flurries to life in his hands, crystallized snowflakes swirling in a bright ball of light above his fingertips.

Lloyd stares at the glowing white orb in awe, the light of it reflected in the bright shine of his eyes.

“It’s beautiful,” Lloyd says, his voice hushed.

Zane does not think he has ever even heard him use the word ‘beautiful’, but the soft way he says it sounds more natural than any of the evil cackles Lloyd has forced from his lips.

“I am glad you think so,” Zane says, then he blows the snowflakes in his face, gentle flurries exploding out at him. Lloyd giggles in delight, blinking snow from his lashes as he tries in vain to catch them on his tongue. Zane smiles, a bubble of laughter welling up in his chest as Lloyd looks at him in awe, his own smile bright.

_______________________________________________________________________

Lloyd stares at him, eyes misted in pain and welling tears, flinching back from the ice freezing bitterly against his skin.

“Zane, please.”

_______________________________________________________________________

Perhaps memory loss was the easier route.

_______________________________________________________________________

While he feels like he’s spent years asleep, he tries for it again, because that’s what everyone else immediately does. He turns the world off and flees for the darkness, as if that will hold some form of sanctuary for him. But he sees the terrified faces of the Formlings when he closes his eyes, hears screaming and the sickly sweet whispering of Vex’s words in his ears when he plasters his hands over them, and sleep is lost for him.

Zane wakes up screaming once, twice, then crying a third, and Kai or Cole are there with hushed words of comfort that he can’t hear, until Lloyd wakes up crying as well.

His is a different kind though, double-visioned tears that to turn to doubled-over sick in the bathroom, his eyes dizzy and unfocused, and Kai’s hand comes away from the back of his head a dark red.

His cry of panic wakes Jay and Cole as well, Nya soon to follow, all of them cramming around in the bathroom as Kai panics and Lloyd’s words slur and Zane stands frozen.

Kai tugs at Lloyd to drag him to Sensei, and the thin fabric of Lloyds’s pajama shirt slips over his shoulder. Zane recoils violently. Beneath his clothes, Lloyd’s skin is a hideous collage of reds and blues, purple and blackening blood vessels beneath the raw, ice-burned skin.

Vex did this, echoes in his ears, and Zane swallows back nausea.

Vex did not have hands that freeze. Vex could not leave cruel patterns of frostbite on other’s skin. Vex did not wield elemental power, and Vex could not command dragons that tear up the mech his brother was in.

Zane falters, his knees buckling. The others will look after Lloyd. The others will protect him.

Zane has proven himself quite capable of doing the opposite.

So he flees, runs from the light and the warmth of his family, and hides in the dark like a coward.

_______________________________________________________________________

“He’s going to be alright, you know.”

Pixal’s voice is gentle and reassuring as she pulls herself onto the monastery roof, sitting quietly beside him. Zane looks away, his eyes staring up at the brightness of the stars above until his eyes water.

“Sensei said it’s just the concussion, but it should heal,” Pixal continues.

Zane bites his lip. Lloyd is tough — if he didn’t know that before, he’d know it now, he thinks bitterly.

But Zane’s mind is an analytical one, and that is a curse right now. Because head injuries — head injuries could mean brain damage, and brain damage could mean memory loss, and memory loss could mean your brother turns against you and freezes half a realm—

No, the entire realm, hadn’t he.

“Lloyd said he wants to see you.”

Zane makes a sound in the back of his throat, bitter and hollow. Pixal’s eyes turn sad, and Zane feels a pang in his chest.

“He really does, you know,” she says, quietly. “We all do.”

Zane tilts his head at her. “You do see me,” he says. “I’m here right now, aren’t I?”

Pixal meets his gaze head-on, her green eyes glimmering in the dim light. “Are you?”

Zane is forced to look away. His eyes find his hands instead, where they’re laced tightly together in his lap. The tremors have lessened from earlier, but they’re still there. Still a reminder, of what he’s done with these hands.

“You’re hiding,” Pixal says. Her words are not an accusation, but they feel like one nonetheless. “From what?”

Zane blinks, long and hard. “Don’t you know?” he finally exhales, the words heavy. “You heard what I did.”

Pixal stiffens. “Zane,” she says, pained. “Do you remember after we met, when I attacked you? When Cryptor and the Overlord had me under their control? You did not blame me for that.”

Zane shakes his head. “This is different.” His hands are rattling now. “You did not — you didn’t see, Pixal. You didn’t see what I did.”

Pixal is quiet for a moment, then she speaks. “But they did.”

Zane buries his face in his hands. “I don’t understand,” he whispers. “They don’t understand.”

Pixal huffs a breath out, the sound pained. “I wish I knew how to help you,” she says, her voice miserable.

It tugs on something in Zane’s chest, and he finds himself leaning against her shoulder, taking what comfort he dares let himself have from her.

“You do help,” he tells her, quietly. “You help more than you’ll ever know.”

Pixal rests her head atop of his, humming quietly in reply.

She does not reach for his hands. Zane cannot help but feel grateful for that.

_______________________________________________________________________

Lloyd is fine, despite his best efforts to free himself from his family’s worrying eyes too early. There are a very loud few moments where Pixal mentions something about shaving part of his head to observe the damage, at which Lloyd balks violently, declaring that the first person to even come close to his head with a razor will receive an energy sphere to the face.

Having received one of those himself recently, Zane has no desire to try him.

Kai takes his side, and Lloyd ends up escaping with all his hair intact, though he is under strict orders not to push himself. He celebrates this by throwing himself back into training with the rest of them, determined not to fall into past habits.

“I was thinking of an obstacle course,” Lloyd rolls his eyes at Nya’s concerned protests. “Simple and easy, no sparring or anything.”

“Plenty of chances to fall, though,” Cole mutters. He receives several looks of pointed concern at that, and immediately sputters. “I meant — I meant for like, Lloyd’s head, not — guys, I’m fine, that wasn’t — what I meant.”

No one looks convinced, and Jay doesn’t let go of his hold on Cole’s arm.

“A low obstacle course,” Lloyd amends. The others shrug in agreement, which Lloyd takes as the most enthusiasm he’s going to get, and he starts lining up. The other follow suit, and Zane is moving as well until Cole suddenly turns, eyeing him in concern.

“You sure you’re up for this?”

Zane nods shortly, fisting his hands in the side of his gi to stop the tremors. Of course he is. There is no reason for his hands to be shaking — not for simple training, the kind he’s done a hundred, a thousand times. The sun is bright where it rests in the clear sky, and even the wind that rustles around them is warm.

He is safe here. They are safe here.

Zane tells himself this as he steps alongside his brothers, pulling the hood of his gi down as they do.

This is a mistake.

The fabric weighs close and heavy against his face, tight and constricting, and all at once Zane’s vision goes white and he’s gone. The air is frigid and Vex’s voice is clanging through his empty head like a broken bell, his chest is numb and the panicked breathes he draws in freeze and burn. Zane claws frantically at the mask, choking back a scream as it snags and catches, trapping him in a world of white and no color, no warmth, of unfeeling nothing—

“Zane!”

There’s a violent tug and the mask tears, ripping away from his face like paper. Zane falls forward, bracing himself on his hands as he gasps, breaths shuddering in relief as the pressure lifts, his vision clears, and the air is warm again.

The comforting weight of a hand lands on his back, and Zane’s very being cries out for it until he manages to yank himself away.

“N-no,” he stammers, his voice halting like a broken record. “No, you cannot— you shouldn’t—“

“Hey, it’s okay, you’re okay,” someone murmurs from behind him. “It’s fine, it’s—“

“You’re here.” A new voice speaks up, this one just in front of him. “You’re free, you’re you. He doesn’t have you, Zane.”

Zane gasps out a shuddery, breathless sob before pulling himself together enough to open his eyes, staring blearily at the terrified faces of his team where they’re crouched around him. Jay is at his back, his hand still hovering mid-reach for him, and Kai’s eyes are wide where Cole holds a cautionary hand in front of him. Nya is on his left, her face pale as her brother’s, and Lloyd kneels beside him, his eyes wide and so terribly, painfully empathetic. Zane’s eyes drift, and he sees his hood still clutched in Lloyd’s white-knuckled fingers, torn from the strength of his pull.

“It’s okay,” Lloyd repeats, and he tries to smile at him, some offer of reassurance. “Hey, you’re good, we got you.”

Zane shakes his head, rocking back on his heels and closing his eyes. Lloyd’s words echo through his head, again and again.

He doesn’t have you.

He wants to scream.

Instead, he exhales, and calmly tells them, “I think I may be sick.”

_______________________________________________________________________

Zane is a fool, because he believes that will be the end of it, for some reason. He is a fool, for thinking his team will let him get way with shaking hands and drawing further and further into himself.

But he had, for a moment, thought they were smart.

Lloyd, as usual, tends to like proving people wrong.

“Zane, come on, you gotta stop hiding away.”

Zane goes rigid. He’d been careful when he’d slipped out of the monastery, the rest of his family preoccupied enough with Cole’s video game that he’d thought he could leave unnoticed.

He hadn’t even made it down the first few steps. Disappointing.

“I am not…hiding away,” he says, stiffly. “I just…needed some air.”

There. A perfect excuse, one Lloyd uses himself quite often. If he’s wise, he’ll let it go.

But then Zane hears his footsteps draw closer, and the trembling in his hands picks up. Of course Lloyd will follow him. It’s what got him into trouble in the first place.

“Zane…” Lloyd sighs, sounding tired. “I know it’s…it’s not easy. It can’t be. But we — we want to help, Zane. You just gotta let us.”

Zane shakes his head. “You shouldn’t,” he says, bleakly. “You shouldn’t want to.”

Lloyd makes an unhappy sound in his throat. “Of course we do, Zane,” he insists. “We’re your family. And what happened there — everything, that was Vex. Not you, Zane.”

Zane closes his eyes tight. He’s heard this, again and again and again, from Cole and Kai and Jay and Nya. Always blaming Vex, always excusing Zane.

And now Lloyd is here, with the same words, and—

Lloyd bruised and bled and traveled a wasteland to save him, and Zane repaid him by nearly freezing him solid. He repaid him with cold and cruelty, and nearly let another end him, right in front of his eyes. Zane stood by while Vex held a spear to his brother’s throat and he almost did nothing.

There are no excuses for that.

“You do not understand,” Zane repeats, his voice thin. “You can’t, Lloyd, so please stop—“

“No!” Lloyd’s expression is stubborn as he interrupts him, his eyes hot. “I don’t understand, you’re right, but I’m the closest you’re going to get!” Lloyd shakes his head. “You think I don’t know what guilt feels like? You think I don’t know what it’s like to lose yourself?"

Zane’s teeth grind. “It is not the same, Lloyd, and you know it.”

“Maybe not, but I know what you’re doing,” Lloyd says, refusing to back down. “I know you’re bottling it up, Zane, and you have to stop. You’ve got to open up to us, Zane, you’re destroying yourself.”

“It is better than destroying you!”

“You wouldn’t!” Lloyd retorts fiercely. “You didn’t before, and you won’t now!”

Zane’s words strangle on the tip of his tongue, and Lloyd steps forward, moving closer. “Zane, you’re my brother,” he says, his words painfully earnest. “I trust you.”

Too close, he’s coming too close. Distress is building in Zane’s chest, blurring his vision and choking him. His hands are shaking hard enough to rattle, misting cold flowing from the edges of his fingers. Lloyd either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, only stepping closer.

Zane lifts his hand to stop him, to push him back, away from him before he can get too close—

When he realizes with a swoop of horror that ice has formed along his fingers, spreading over his hands and misting out, reaching closer and closer toward Lloyd, and Zane has no time to cry a warning before—

Searing flame erupts in front of him, killing the spreading ice in a wave of heat and sending him stumbling away. Lloyd gives a startled cry of panic from behind the wall of fire that blazes between them, and Zane flinches back, cowering.

“Stop.”

Kai stares at him, his face white, flames dancing from his hands where his arm is still outstretched, calling the fire between them. His eyes are blown wide — in terror or panic or anger, Zane cannot tell.

“Stop,” Kai repeats, his voice shaky. “You can’t — no more, not him, you—“

Haunted. Kai’s eyes are haunted, burning from the inside out. Zane’s expression fractures as his heart does, and Kai suddenly blinks rapidly, the fire from his hands dying, turning to smoke that quickly drifts away.

They stand there, Kai and Zane facing each other and Lloyd on the ground, his hands pressed against his eyes tightly, as if still shielding from the light. No one meets the others’ eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Zane whispers.

Kai shakes his head. “This isn’t working,” he says, his voice hollow. It sounds final.

There is silence for another moment, then—

Lloyd gives a sharp intake of breath. “Don’t.”

Their heads swivel toward him. Lloyd is shaking his head, looking close to tears. “Please,” he whispers. “Please don’t.”

Kai looks at Zane, then back to Lloyd, frowning. “Lloyd, what—?”

Lloyd’s hands are shaking now too, terrible tremors that spread to his shoulders and don’t stop, rattling him like he shivered in the cold of the Never Realm. “Don’t leave,” he croaks, his eyes reddening at the edges, slowly welling up. “Please don’t leave. Not again.”

Kai stares at him in blank confusion, before the look turns to horror.

“Oh, Lloyd, no—“

“—not again, please don’t—“

“No, no, that’s not what’s happening, I promise—“

Kai is on the ground with Lloyd now, frantically reassuring him, leaving Zane forgotten for the moment. It is for the best, because it gives Zane the chance to stumble back, to turn, and to run.

This, this is why, a voice cries in his head, crashing against his skull. You hurt and you hurt and they ignore it. How long before you hurt too badly? How long before you go too far again?

Tears burn at the edges of his eyes, hotter than the fire Kai had called up.

Kai had called up fire, against him.

Zane shakes his head, choking out a bitter laugh. Of course he had. Kai has always been one to see the clearest. He knows, he must know, how dangerous Zane is, how unforgivable he is, how—

He’d almost hurt Lloyd. Again.

Zane’s steps falter then fumble, and his foot catches against a step before sending him tumbling to the ground, his hands just catching himself in the dirt before he wipes out completely.

He stays like that, his arms trembling where they’re planted in the earth before him, his breath coming in harsh gasps. He digs his fingers into the dirt, watching the grassroots and dark silt stain around his fingers. The frosting ice has long faded, but Zane can still feel it, still shudders from the chill.

Dirt shifts against the edge of his sleeve, and Zane’s stomach turns. The fabric is white, pure and untouched as it always is, and he hates it. He hates the color, he hates it, he hates that it is pure white and not drenched in red, dyed in blood that should be staining his hands—

Remember when I threw his reds in with your whites? And all your clothes turned pink, and you had to dress up as the pink ninja? Remember?

He remembers, oh, he remembers, and that is the problem. He remembers every frightened face, every desperate plea for mercy, every terrified scream — all at his hands. All his fault, all his fault, all his—

The earth between Zane’s fingers freezes solid as colors burst beneath his eyelids, and for a second he thinks he might explode, shattering into pieces like he did in the Overlord’s grasp, except this time it will be at the cause of his own awful mistakes—

A hand settles on his shoulder, gentle but grounding, melting the ice away before Zane can accidentally hurt him.

And like that, every last ounce of energy rushes from Zane’s chest, the ice between his fingers splintering and dissolving as he goes limp, still kneeling in the dirt.

“Kai,” he rasps.

“Hey, bud.”

Kai’s voice is raw, almost as if he’s crying, or wants to. He doesn’t say anything else, just sits there with his hand on Zane’s back until he finally sits up, brushing his hands across his eyes and exhaling shakily.

Kai remains by his side, patient.

Zane finally swallows, finding what little courage he has. “Is Lloyd…”

“He’s fine,” Kai says. He hangs his head, looking pained. “He’s just — I kind of…gave him reason to be scared. The last time you, um…” Kai trails off, then shudders. “Anyways, he was — I know you weren’t going to hurt him. I know you didn’t mean to. I just—“

“I am glad you did,” Zane says, quietly.

“But I shouldn’t have,” Kai says, fiercely. “I could’ve hurt you, I overreacted and I could’ve—“

He bites himself off, arms crossing tightly in his lap.

“Lloyd said—“ Kai’s breath hitches. “He told me — he wanted me to tell you—“ He shakes his head, exhaling on a shaky breath that sounds like he either wants to laugh or cry. “He told me to welcome you to the almost-killed-him-over-a-staff club.”

Zane inhales sharply, his eyes snapping up to Kai’s. Lloyd is never so direct, and he never brings up something he knows will hurt Kai. Not unless they have driven him to it.

“It wasn’t — that’s not the same,” he croaks.

“Yeah,” Kai laughs, bitterly. “Because you didn’t have your memories. You didn’t know.”

“But I did,” Zane hisses. “I did, Kai, I knew better. But I still — the people, Kai, there were so many people—“

“We saved them, though,” Kai insists. “Zane, you freed them—“

“How many?!” Zane cries, standing abruptly. “How many, Kai? How many did I free after years of suffering, of years of living without their loved ones? And how many never got the chance to?”

Kai stares at him, his eyes wide. “Zane—“

Zane staggers back, his breath coming in harsh pants as he stares at his hands. They’re shaking so badly he can hardly see them, or perhaps his entire body is shaking now, rattling itself into disrepair.

“I hurt them, Kai,” he chokes out. “I hurt them, and I hurt you. You came for me, and I hurt you, because I listened to him.”

Kai pushes himself to his feet, his hands wavering hesitantly as he steps toward him. “Zane, you can’t…”

Fire suddenly burns hot in Zane’s gut, and his eyes sting.

“I wish you’d burned him,” he suddenly spits, his voice so vicious it scrapes through his throat. “I wish you’d killed him.”

Kai’s expression makes it clear that Zane doesn’t need to say the name. His fists ball up, and he continues. “I wish—“

Zane grinds his hands against his eyes, his breath catching.

He wishes, he wishes — he can wish forever, but none of that will undo what he’s done.

Kai lays a hand on his, trapping his trembling one in a low warmth.

“I’m sorry we didn’t come sooner,” he whispers, his voice broken. “I’m so sorry, Zane."

“It is not your—“

Zane can no longer speak. Kai’s warmth is too much against the icy shards of his heart, and somewhere in him a dam breaks, flooding out with an emotion so intense Zane crumbles to the ground.

Kai is quick to follow, holding him as he sobs, agony splintering against his chest like cracking ice.

“It wasn’t you, Zane, it wasn’t—“

“My hands, Kai, they were my hands.”

Kai is quiet for a beat, and his arms tighten further, his warmth almost searing where he clutches him, as if holding Zane together with sheer force of will.

“I know, Zane,” Kai’s voice is thick, water-logged and miserable. “I know.”

_______________________________________________________________________

They stay out there for hours, only returning when the sun has finally set completely, casting the mountain in darkness. The others are waiting for them in the doorway, and Zane nearly falters before Kai pulls him forward.

Lloyd is the first to greet them, his eyes soft as he takes Zane’s hand without hesitation, squeezing it tightly.

“You wouldn’t hurt me,” he says, and this time, Zane hears the resolution in his voice. It is an assurance on Lloyd’s part, a promise from him.

Zane’s fingers squeeze back, and Lloyd gives him a watery smile before moving to Kai. He wavers for a moment, hesitating until Kai pulls him in. Lloyd returns the hug fiercely.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his voice heartbroken against Kai’s gi. “I shouldn’t have—“

“No,” Kai says. “You should have.”

Nya steps past her brothers to reach for Zane next. He flinches back at first, but she presses onward, grasping his hands with her own. With a flicker of surprise, he feels a similar tremor running through her hands, as if she’s being shaken from the inside out.

She doesn’t say anything, but her eyes are understanding.

“You don’t have to be okay,” Jay suddenly says, materializing at his side. “We don’t expect you to, you know.”

Zane swallows thickly. He looks up, meeting Cole’s dark eyes with his own watering ones.

“We lost you once,” Cole says, his voice hollow. “We’re not going to again. And whatever you’ve done, whatever — whatever you need to do, we’re going to be there. You can’t stop us, either.”

His lips quirk up in a pained smile. “You should know better by now.”

And Zane shouldn’t, because Cole’s arms are still scarred from the cold, from his cold — but Cole pulls him in tightly and Zane clings back, burying his face in his brother’s chest.

When he finally pulls back, Cole’s eyes are red, and he can spot Pixal at his shoulder, her lips pulled into a small, soft kind of smile.

They shoulder him back into the monastery, tugging him from the darkness outside into the light. Lloyd falls in next to him as they head inside, looking a little guilty.

Zane cannot imagine what on earth for, but Lloyd speaks up before he can question him.

“Earlier, when we were…talking, I didn’t mean to talk about me,” he says, slowly. “I, um…I wanted to talk with you, about you, but also…also about my father.”

Zane pauses, and he looks down at his hands.

“I would like that,” he says, quietly.

The smile Lloyd gives him is small, but it is noticeably genuine.

______________________________________________________________________

“You cannot change the past, Zane, no matter how much you wish to.”

Sensei’s eyes are distant where he sits across the table from him, but they are somehow understanding. He stirs at his tea absently, sighting wearily. “That is a power long beyond our reach, and pointless to meddle with.”

“I understand, Sensei.” Zane’s eyes turn downwards, and then Sensei Wu continues.

“But you can protect what you have now,” he says, gently. “And you can protect those who need your help in the future.”

Zane stares at him for a beat, then turns his gaze to the window, where he knows his family is likely eavesdropping again.

“Will it ever be enough?” he whispers, afraid of the answer.

Sensei Wu’s head dips. “I will not pass judgement on you, Zane,” he says. “I have done enough myself in my own life.”

Zane nods, disappointed, but not entirely unsurprised.

“But,” he continues, and his eyes are lighter. “I do know that you have a good heart, Zane. And I know that whatever darkness has touched it will not linger for long.”

Zane stares at his hands, gloved in the white of his uniform.

“You cannot change the past,” Sensei repeats. “But you’ve been given a future. Don’t waste it, Zane.”

Zane’s hands clench once, then twice. He thinks of snow, for snowmen and sledding.

Twice now, he’s been given a second chance.

He won’t waste it. He won’t.

_______________________________________________________________________

A month after their return from the Never Realm finds the six of them abandoning their training once again, though this time it is with permission.

Instead of resting at the monastery, they pack their bags and set out on foot, Cole leading the way as they pick a path up the nearby mountain. It is not a training hike, or a desperate hike — it is slow and ambling and they trip more often than not, stumbling over each other or kicking each others’ legs out, pausing often to peer over the clifftops and duck under tiny waterfalls.

They reach the top by sundown, sweaty and disheveled and hair askew, but they’re lighter and happier than Zane’s seen in a while, and he himself does not feel so terribly heavy for once.

They toss sticks and pine straw and whatever they’ve collected on the way up into a haphazard pile as it gets dark, and Kai brings up a bonfire bright enough to illuminate all their faces.

Then Nya draws the wrapped object from her bag, and the mood turns somber.

Lloyd’s eyes shadow as the staff, wrapped and covered firmly in old bedsheets, is passed from Nya’s hands to Kai’s. Jay’s eyes flit away, and Cole looks down at the fire. Zane’s hands tremble, but Lloyd takes one and Jay takes the other, and the restlessness in his heart quiets.

“All due respect to your grandfather, Lloyd,” Kai begins, with an air of dignity as he holds the staff aloft. “But this was an awful idea.”

Lloyd ducks his head, breathing a laugh. Kai grins, meets Zane eyes, then drops the staff into the fire, the flames burning stronger as it catches.

They know full well that Lloyd splintered it a while ago, stripped it of his grandfather’s power with his uncle’s aid, but Kai claims this is therapeutic.

They all watch in silence as the scroll crumples and crackles under the heat of Kai’s fire, curling up and blackening at the edges, until the entire thing is consumed in bright flame, hot tongues of heat erasing the sigils from existence as the paper turns to ash.

“Good riddance,” Cole mutters.

“Seriously,” Jay echoes. “What a headache.”

His eyes suddenly brighten, and Nya shoots him a look. Jay ignores her, continuing, “A literal headache, get it? ‘Cause your head burst into flame—“

Cole elbows him in the side, but the others are snickering now as well, and even Zane feels a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“Sensei won’t be mad, will he?” Nya finally questions, when the laughter has died down.

Lloyd simply shrugs. He still hasn’t let go of Zane’s hand. “I don’t think so,” he says. “And even if he does — this was our decision. He can take it up with all of us.”

“We speak as one,” Kai says, his eyes bright with the light from the fire, slipping his hand into Lloyd’s, his other reaching for Nya’s.

“As one,” Cole echoes quietly, taking Nya’s outstretched hand and closing the circle as he grabs for Jay’s, leaving the six of them in a lopsided, connected circle of battered hands.

The fire snaps and crackles in the middle of them, the last remnants of the scroll turning to ash, and Zane exhales, as if letting out some breath he’s been holding for ages.

His hands are steady.

[rinas-ninjas]

Not to be a zangst stan on main but how about something to do with Dr. Julien's death?

OOF this got long. #NoRegrets.

...anyone else a Green Day fan?

Summer has come and passed

The innocent can never last

Wake me up

When September ends

No one missed the silent quiver of his lip at the funeral. The sad way he stared straight ahead as the casket was lowered, the deep breaths he took to keep himself steady.

Like my father’s come to pass

Seven years has gone so fast

Wake me up

When September ends

None of it felt fair. They could all remember with vivid clarity finding the old man in the lighthouse, even without a nindroid’s memory. It had all been fantastic, for a while – Zane brought his father to live in the monastery with him, and they’d never seen their teammate so happy.

Here comes the rain again

Falling from the stars

Drenched in my pain again

Becoming who we are

It was so easy to see the resemblance between the two. It was clear where Zane’s kind and considerate nature came from, what with Dr. Julien’s loving heart and penchant for inviting them over for tea.

As my memory rests

But never forgets what I’ve lost

Wake me up

When September ends

He was silent on the way home from the ceremony, watching and rewatching saved memories in his mind’s eye. Waking up. Seeing his father for the first time. Forgetting. Seeing him for the first time – again. Being happy – no. Not that one. Not yet.

Summer has come and passed

The innocent can never last

Wake me up

When September ends

Zane had always been quiet; it was one of his defining traits, really. But this…this was different. He didn’t even let out a sound during training, only going through the motions with a blank face and a silent voice. It made Jay frown in concern, but he figured his friend just…needed more time, that’s all.

Ring out the bells again,

Like we did when spring began

Wake me up

When September ends

He couldn’t do it. It was too hard – too soon. He hopelessly watched as dozens of lanterns floated above his head. How did people do this every year? How did they call this a happy holiday? It didn’t make sense. He set it down with trembling hands.

Maybe he could celebrate the Day of the Departed next year.

Here comes the rain again

Falling from the stars

Drenched in my pain again

Becoming who we are

He stared at the shattered mirror in front of him. He didn’t understand. Why was he so angry? His father only ever loved and cared for him, why was he so – so – it didn’t make sense! He looked down at his hands. The glass had scratched slightly into the metal.

He walked back to bed with heavy footsteps. Maybe it was best if he just shut down for a while longer.

As my memory rests

But never forgets what I lost

Wake me up

When September ends

He lay idly on his bed, hand hovering over his memory switch. It would be so simple. Just to forget…forget and reset and be happy again.

He let his hand fall to his side with a sigh.

No.

Not today.

Not like this.

Summer has come and passed

The innocent can never last

Wake me up

When September ends

It wasn’t an easy conversation to have. No one wanted to be the first to speak, but they all had something to say. It started with Lloyd – mandatory sessions with a colleague of Dr. Borg’s that he’d been taking for months. Then Kai and Nya – they’d been using the old shop as a place to vent angry energy for months. Jay and Cole happily started trading off on waking him up each morning – they were already keeping each other accountable, adding him to their schedule was no problem.

Maybe he’d be okay.

Eventually.

Like my father’s come to pass

Twenty years has gone so fast

Wake me up

When September ends

He smiled wearily at Lloyd as they each lifted a lantern to the sky. It still hurt. It would probably always hurt. But as he watched it float away, a perfectly preserved memory playing in the corner of his mind, he felt peace.

It was okay.

He was okay.

[mx-julien]

Zane is curious to a fault and that's my favorite flaw. remember in Prime Empire when he had Unigami's hardrive with him because he just wanted to study it? delectable. amazing. so i offer you a more descriptive and entirely different telling of That Time The Mechanic Exposed One Of Zane's Character Flaws.

a "vaguely after s8" timeline and Some General Robot Gore, but none of the End Of The Season Plot things. wanted to spoil myself a little bit bc i love underexplored character flaws and broken robots. (you can read it on Ao3, too, if you'd like - coming soon)

///

Concrete walls don't clash with many colors. Not with red plastic, gold wiring, titanium plates, or steel screws, though the lack of a window means the only real light Zane has comes through the wraught iron bars. They're rather crude, if he's being honest; they only used rebar, not even the nice, smooth, round kind of bars they have in Kryptarium. They should rethink calling him their "Most Valuable Prisoner" if this is the kind of conditions they put important people in.

He'd halfheartedly kick at a rock, but all of his motors are shot except for the ones on his neck, abdomen, and right arm; also, there are no rocks nearby. So he just lies there, half propped against a wall with his left arm detached and strewn about to the side of the cell that's illuminated.

The rectangles of light coming through the rebar are interrupted by a figure wearing a bowl hat. In a few moments The Mechanic standing outside Zane's cell, "Little nindroid," he leans in, keys jangling on his hip, "You didn't think I wouldn't come back for ya, did you?"

After a moment to process the double negative, he tries to right his head and mostly succeeds, though his vision is still slightly tilted to the left, "No," he uses his one good arm to push his back further up the wall, so it looks more like he's sitting than considerably incapacitated. "What surprised me was your stupidity in bringing me here," he looks pointedly around the room, "Or did you not realize that you led us straight to your base?" Zane looks the mechanic in the one good eye he has.

He just laughs, "Like you'll ever make it back to tell 'em!"

A few goons of various heights dressed in tattered brown leather jackets and ripped, stained light wash jeans make encouraging comments. The shortest one is a man who raises a fist and yells, "Yeah!" While the tallest one, a woman, chuckles and the one that's mostly obscured by the Mechanic curls one hand into a fist and hits it against their palm. An ode of what's to come. Oh joy.

"Be quiet-" they comply, rather promptly at that. He searches the key ring and, after what felt like ages, opens the cell door. "You're going to give me that capacitor real nice like," he motions his hands in a 'come come' manner that Zane discovers he finds incredibly demeaning, "Or I'mma take you apart until I find it like the Good 'Ol Mechanic I am." He leans down - still out of arm's reach - but too close for any semblence of comfort, "Like I've wanted to for so long. You get me?" He smiles, showing of his teeth shining with gold and silver.

The metal piece replacing his eye has a few lights in it that stare at Zane like they're expecting him to blink. "We destroyed it-" he narrows his eyes, "Do you really think we'd keep around a device capable of holding that much radioactive energy?"

"No," he stands up and wallks backwards until he can lean his back on the bars, "I think you are curious enough to want it around to tinker with - to figure out all its secrets and whatnot. But smart enough to know that your other little ninja friends wouldn't agree." He takes out a cigarette and flicks the lighter, bringing some more brightness into the room before snuffing it out after it's served his purpose, the butt of the cigarette glowing a dark red, "So you either have it or you know where it is."

Zane feels a tangible sense of checkmate as he sees the ash fall between oily human fingers, but it's not over yet. "Fine," he finally raises his head the last several degrees to straighen it fully, if only to see the Mechanic smirking around his cigarette, "But if I don't tell you where it is, how is taking me apart going to help? You'll never find it if I'm not intact."

"Tell it to me now," he shuts the door, letting it make a clang so loud it makes the tallest henchperson flinch, "And you won't have to see me rilfling 'round that chest of yours to see where the memory stick's at." He pulls a pair of foot-long pliers out of one of his overfilled pants pockets and smiles in a way that's bordering on the edge of deranged.

This is Zane's own fault and he's fully aware that he deserves what's coming to him. But he can't help feeling relief when a door down the hallway is kicked in and "Hands off the nindroid!" echoes through the room.

The goons spring to their feet just in him for Nya to incapacitate the shortest one and push the mid-sized one against a wall. It's enough to keep her occupied that the tallest one puts her arms around Nya's neck in a choke hold. Only to have Cole barrell through the hall and haul her over his shoulder, flipping her over onto the ground.

Just recovering from being pushed, the last one high tails it out the door.

"Darn hard to find good help these days," not to be forgotten, the Mechanic quickly locks he cell door and throws the keys across the room, coming to rest near what used to be the nindroid's left elbow, "Oh well," his other hand grabs wire cutters out of an inner coat pocket, "Guess we'll have an audience, eh, nindroid?"

He takes only two steps closer before the bars groan and bend behind him. The Mechanic spins around, shocked. Nya chooses that moment to walk through the new opening in the rebar, drag him a few feet closer to her by grabbing his shirt, then punch his lights out.

Cole watches it happen, a few of his dreadlocks obscuring one of his eyes, while he's still holding one of the bars in his hand. He promptly throws it aside after his eyes land on Zane's... rather disheleved look, "Hey buddy," he bends down at his right side, putting a hand on his back so it's easier to sit, "Not looking too hot," he scans the room, finally able to process the extent of the damage, "What the hell did they do to you?"

"They tore that arm off," he uses his head to gesture to it, as if there are some other remains of a titanium android's arm lying around in close proximity, "And then it joined me as I was pushed off a building." Zane puts a hand on Cole's shoulder, "But I gathered what I could of it and I'm okay. All the important things are intact."

Finished tying up the two goons and the Mechanic, Nya walks in, surveying the damage she, Jay, and Pixal will have to repair, "What did they want from you, anyways?" She takes off her gi to use as a makeshift bag to hold the large arm plates she's picking up, "They seemed to specifically go after you after they regrouped."

He's lifted into the air, his legs uneven: the right showing too many wires to be fully intact inside and the other being so crumpled it became an inch shorter. Cole's supporting all of his weight, one arm gripping the area where an arm used to be and his right holding on to the metallic one that's slung around his shoulders.

"They were looking for the capacitor from last week."

"That thing?" Cole walks sideways through the opening so Zane's legs don't catch, "But you destroyed it a few days ago? Why'd they think- don't tell me you didn't..."

Pointedly, Zane looks the hallway, admiring the bent bars and one piece of pig iron laying on the floor. Nya stands up, gi in hand, and leaves the cell, putting her other hand on her hip and sighing, "Zane. This is why-"

"I know- but it stores so much energy that it might be useful if I can just-"

"Just what?" Cole readjusts his grip on him, making the loose pieces in his legs rattle and clank together, "Get captured again? Damn it, Zane, this is one of the many reasons we destroy those things; so we don't have to deal with another burnt down monestary or worry about someone getting kidnapped like this!"

"I-" he lets his head hand down, giving him a clear view of the wreckage that is his lower half. His voice gets quieter, ashamed, "I hadn't fully realized that."

After a few moments of silence, Nya gets out her phone to call the commissioner. He's dragged out the door and up some stairs onto the roof. Zane's set down against an air conditioning unit, propped up.

Cole just situates himself to his right, holding his one good hand. He runs a hand through his hair and takes a deep breath, letting it out ten seconds later. A minute later, he finally speaks, "Just-" he turns his head to look away from Zane, to where the Bounty will presumably show up soon, "We can always get you one from Borg; the guy has everything," he squeezes his hand, "Except- except you. We only have one of you, and I'd like to keep this Zane in one piece."

"I'll..." he leans forward a little, catching Cole's eye, "I will try to restrain myself -  in the future, that is - when it comes to things like this."

The latter just nods, accepting the apology as one might tuck their rightful mail into a coat pocket after a neighbor returns it.

Zane's not forgiven, yet, just understood.

Nya comes up after not much longer and sits on his other side, where his left arm would be usually when it's not shattered into pieces, held in a bag made from the gi of the water ninja.

Soon, the Bounty will descend out of the clouds, but right now it's quiet. Zane closes his eyes, shutting off visual sensors and allowing his head to rest on the AC unit behind them. If he sits here long enough, he just might forget how damaged his legs are.

And how the capacitor sitting right next to his heart has never felt heavier.

///

yes i made the mechanic sound a little bit like an american southerner; yes i am a southerner; yes i edited for clarity so others could understand

also this was very much supposed to just be adjacent to the Curiousity As A Fault thing for Zane, THEN i realized that the Mechanic was in that Prime Empire scene and just gave up and finished writing anyways because this is for fun

edit (2022): WOW this is questionably written... I need to edit this and post to ao3 bc some of these scenes and the grammar is... rough

[razzle-zazzle]

Can you truly feel What they’re going through? Or is this all just A game to you? Do you know what you’re doing? Do you know what comes next? Do you think you can save them Using only your head?