Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The goal is to survive.

To win.

And get back home.

Running, hiding, or fighting is all you can do inside the Hunger Games.

Volcanoes erupting, Lightning striking, tsunamis washing away everything in its path, snow freezing limbs off, and the earth crumbling beneath your feet are normal in the arena of the game.

Originally, there were only five core elements. However, with time, different variations of elements began to grow.

Each district has an element attached to it, and in each year, two people from the district are chosen randomly.

One boy and one girl.

The tributes can be aged from thirteen to eighteen.

We were taught that the Hunger Games were created to punish the twelve districts for the rebellion that transpired when Garmadon took the throne after his father’s passing.

However, my uncle always believed that it was something far worse. That—-the games are designed on the premise of killing potential. To kill the youth before they could grow to their fullest potential. Before they could band together and gather their strength to overthrow him.

My uncle would say that Garmadon was running away from fate. From a prophecy older than him or his father before him.

Honestly, my uncle likes to make things bigger than they seem. Sometimes the curtains are just blue, and I wish he would understand that.

-

Lloyd Montgomery

In a bowl, thousands of millions of names stir inside. Twenty-four destinies were sealed as the ink stained the innocent white paper. Millions gather and mumble soft annoyance at the tradition, but it never becomes louder than a mumble.

The oldest, standing tall in the front, felt the tension rise, nearing the moment of freedom from the disgusting tradition. The youngest members of the population remained in the rear, hidden from sight, in the shadow of the oldest.

The youngest at the back, the oldest in the front.

Gale Gossip speaks enthusiastically into the microphone, ringing into the distance, “Now the time has come for us to select one courageous young man and woman for the honor of representing District 12 in the 17th Hunger Games.”

She peers over the bowl and smiles, “As usual, ladies first…” She trails off as she walks over to the bowl. She dips her gloved hand into the bowl, swirling the pieces of paper around until her finger snaps at one.

She lifts her hand up and gracefully opens the paper, revealing the tribute’s name, “Harumi Jade!”

As a girl slowly came into view, the crowd shifted, and the hushed murmurs grew to a buzz. The sunlight glinted off her white hair. Her hair is held in a tight bun; she wears gray overalls and polished black boots. She furrows her brow at those around her. Her eyes, bright emerald green, darken as those around her shift away from her, refusing to glance in her direction.

“Harumi, please come up on the stage,” Gale says, ushering with her hands beside her.

Harumi’s head subtly shook, then she moved through the sea of people, eyes forward, ignoring those around her. The cold stone steps scraped underfoot as she ascended, reaching Gale Gossip’s side. A hand clamped onto her shoulder, and a booming voice, amplified by the microphone, sliced through the air. “Let’s hear it for our newest tribute!”

A clap or two sounds, but after an awkward second, it ceases. Gale quickly lets go of Harumi's shoulder, who, in turn, seems very grateful for getting her personal space back.

“It’s time to choose our boy tribute,” she says, her voice echoing slightly, as a stray hair escapes the tight coil. She quickly smooths it down as she walks towards the bowl, her footsteps muffled on the stone floor. Dipping her fingers in, she feels the cool, smooth paper against her fingertips, the air still and quiet except for the rustle of paper. She runs her fingers through the names, as though the bowl were filled with water. Her finger snatches a single slip of paper.

She brings it up and walks towards the microphone, and opens it. “Lloyd Montgomery!”

Whispers begin to grow until a sharp burst of laughter rings out. The laughter belongs to Chad, an older teenage boy with brown hair and black eyes. He’s a well-spoken guy, especially when dealing with those in District Twelve. Known for his charm, Chad can usually talk his way out of trouble—most of the time, at least. Everyone in the area knows Chad has a habit of selling things on the black market. Why he takes such a risk is a mystery.

Chad’s shoulders are tense as he searches for Lloyd. He pushes a boy out of the way, and a pal of Chad grabs his shoulder, and mummers to him to calm down, but Chad yanks his arm free.

The crowd shuffles around Chad until it parts, revealing Lloyd Montgomery. His blond hair shines just as much as his green eyes compared to Harumi’s. He wears an oversized shirt with dark gray pants that stretch to the ground. Many glance awkwardly at him as they take in his imperfect image.

For the initial Hunger Games, the rules dictated that every tribute had to wear clean, formal attire to the reaping. Disobeying this rule meant a public beating as punishment, and in the worst cases, death.

Initially, many people defied the rule, and they were all made examples of. Now, nobody even dares to wear mismatched socks. So, Lloyd’s bold outfit is making the already tense scene even more so.

Chad whistles lowly and says, “Guess Wu can’t weasel you out of this, can he, Lloyd?”

Lloyd’s shoulder tensed at the mention of his uncle’s name, and he lifted his gaze, spitting out the words, “I never asked for your brother to volunteer.”

Chad lunged for Lloyd, his arm outstretched, but before he could reach him, the cold steel of the gun barrel slammed into his chin, sending him sprawling. Chad groans, his face contorted, and steadily holds onto his chin with a trembling hand. A peacekeeper slams the butt of their barrel into his face, sending him sprawling backwards.

Lloyd grimaced at the sight of the blood, a crimson river, flowing from Chad’s nose. As he is about to offer a hand, a sharp pain hits his left cheek, and he finds himself dazzled, looking at the ground. A wave of shock and anger erupted from the crowd as the Peacekeepers surrounded Lloyd.

With a sickening crunch, one of them stepped on his hand, driving it into the earth. Lloyd’s scream was lost in the commotion as the crowd roared for the peacekeepers to let the boy go. That he is already getting reaped, why injure him before the games begin?

The soldier finally released his grip. Lloyd’s hand is aching from the pressure, and with his other hand, he cradles his injured hand.

The peacekeeper yanks Lloyd by his hair, lifting him from the ground. Lloyd struggles, clawing at the peacekeeper’s hands in a futile attempt to rip them away from his hair. His nails tore into their flesh, causing them to yell and release his hair.

Lloyd scrambled up and narrowly avoided a fist that was headed straight for his face. Lloyd strained to hear Gale Gossip’s voice crackle over the microphone, but it was lost in the sudden thud of a peacemaker falling to the floor by the impact of an older man punching him.

Peacekeepers swarmed the area, scattering the crowd. Lloyd saw a Peacekeeper reach for his gun. The Peacekeeper aimed directly at Lloyd.

Lloyd wouldn’t be the first victim. He wouldn’t even be the youngest.

A part of Lloyd should be afraid of his nearing death, but instead, he smiles softly at it. Until the soldier smirks and quickly points his gun across the crowd at the civilian who threw a punch.

Smoke curled from the barrel after a sickening thud resonated through the air. The older man’s legs gave way, and he crumpled to the ground, a crimson stain blooming on his head where the bullet struck. The thud reverberated through the crowd. The civilians froze, their gazes locked on the peacekeeper as he raised his weapon, his voice echoing, “Do you really believe your unity can change anything?”

“A second ago, you were fine with a child being reaped, but now suddenly things have changed? This is the seventeenth reaping—-none of this is new! And you——” he tears his gaze from the crowd and towards Lloyd, keeping the gun steadily pointed at him. “You think that by disobeying Garmadon’s rules at the very last second will free you from the reaping? We won’t be having another selection.”

The Peacekeeper stood firm, and with a grunt, he gestured to his colleagues to seize Lloyd, shoving him through the crowd and onto the stage.

“Right over here!” Gale’s voice sparks through the tension. Lloyd stares ahead of him, where Gale waves enthusiastically at him. Harumi, off to the side, doesn’t bother to spare him a single glance.

Of course, the district princess seems upset with her chances and with being tied to him now. Lloyd balls his fist even against the stinging of his hand and walks steadily towards the stage and stops right beside Gale Gossip, who then begins to read off the same speech, like each reaping day, the dull Treaty of Treason as required.

Lloyd’s eyes dart across the still crowd, seeking his uncle, and he finds him nowhere. It is required for everyone to be witnesses to the reaping, so his uncle has to be here by law. However, not a single strand of his gray hair can be found.

His heart dropped like a stone, and Gale’s voice became a muffled echo amidst the roaring in his ears. Did Chad’s younger brother feel this way when he was reaped?

Did Brad search through the crowd for his own family? Seeing the desperation on their faces as they stare horrifyingly at his fate.

The question that has been plaguing Lloyd's mind since he was thirteen. Did Brad regret volunteering now that fate had placed Lloyd back in the reaping block?

The speech concluded, she went off to the side and gestured for Lloyd and Harumi to shake hands. Harumi’s lip curled, a soft scoff escaping her, but her hand shot up first. Lloyd’s gaze flickered from her outstretched hand to her face, then clasped her fingers in a brief, cool handshake.

They both turn their backs to the crowd as the anthem of Ninjago plays.

1 hour before the reaping…

His uncle pours tea into Lloyd's cup. The same old green tea, Lloyd notes inside his head as he stares into the tea, watching his reflection shift through the water.

“Tired?” his uncle questions him softly. Lloyd hums quietly and continues to stare into the cup. Wu places his kettle down and takes a seat on the wooden chair.

“Another nightmare,” he says. In which Lloyd hums once more and pushes the teacup further away from him as he places his hands on the counter and lays his head on his hand.

“If you allow your thoughts to be wrestled inside your head, you may never be freed from them,” he says solemnly and looks towards his nephew, who in turn doesn’t reply. Instead, he stares blankly into the teacup. Wu's shoulders fall, and he gets up and grabs a brown satchel left on the kitchen counter and his wooden cane that leans on the wall.

He looks back at his nephew and says, “After the reaping, please don’t come back home late. I know after what happened with Brad you haven’t been—-”

“Goodbye, Wu,” he interrupts, not looking up from the tea.

His uncle sighs and shakes his head slowly and goes toward the front door, and turns the knob, but as he opens the door, he hesitates, opening his mouth and closing it a couple of times. Until he pushes it away and closes the door behind him

When the door clicks closed, Lloyd’s tense shoulders drop down, and a sigh of relief floods through him as he gets up from the wooden chair and walks towards his room. He creaks the door open wide and stares blankly at the clothes lying on the bed. A clean button-up shirt with nicely ironed black pants, and even a belt lay beside the clothing. A scoff is released under his breath as he walks over to the clothing. He grabs it and begins to put the clothing on, taking off his colorless pajamas.

After he finishes closing the last button, he looks up towards his dresser, where on the counter a mirror lies. He stares at his reflection closely, taking in his image. His hair lies frazzled like a bird's nest, but the rest of him looks put together more than it has in the last year.

Everything almost looks polished the way President Gramadon requires from them. Everything cleaned, dried, and ironed. No bumps, wrinkles, and no straying from calculated perfection. A knot forms in his stomach; bile rises as his gaze drifts to the framed picture beside the mirror.

It was a photo from roughly four years back. He was thirteen, dressed in the same clothes he has on now, and standing next to him was his best friend, Brad. Brad has dark short hair nicely combed to the side. For as long as Lloyd could remember, Brad had always been by his side, practically since the beginning.

Brad loved to read books out loud to Lloyd when they were younger. As the sun set, they would run into the forest and climb the same old tall tree. And as they sat in the branch, Brad would reveal the newest book his father would stow away from the Peacekeepers. The book detailed the original five elemental masters from the era when the First Spinjitzu Master ruled Ninjago.

Long ago, five ninjas, each mastering a core element, defended Ninjago. They fought in the Serpentine Wars and against the Great Devourer, protecting both small villages and sprawling cities from any danger threatening the citizens. Every century, they were reborn, their new generation continuing the fight of their ancestors.

For thousands of years, this remained the case until the day they vanished. People searched, but nothing remained, as if they’d never existed. Decades later, FSM revealed his two children, who would inherit the crown upon his passing. The elemental masters quickly became legends, and no one remembered their heroic deeds.

Brad is no longer remembered, much in the same way that ninjas are forgotten. Despite saving many lives, not a single person can describe the ninjas’ physical appearance.

Maybe they had blue eyes, or were they brown?

No one ever talks about Brad anymore, even though everyone witnessed his brutal murder on their screens four years ago. Why is everyone acting like he doesn’t exist?

The aching feeling returned in Lloyd’s nerves, and he was desperate to escape the suffocating reaping clothes. He wanted to continue with his life, pretending the reaping never happened, and never feeling the weight of Brad’s life. The weight of the dead boy was making his nerves frazzled and frayed.

Lloyd’s fingers fumbled with the blouse buttons, the fabric whispering against his skin. He kicked off the black dress shoes; the thud echoed in the sudden silence. Ripping the closet door open, the hinges groaned in protest. If his mind wasn’t clouded, he’d have stopped and put back the reaping clothes like a good Ninjago civilian.

Instead, he reaches for an oversized shirt before sliding on some gray pants. He exhales, feeling the lightness fill his lungs as he stares at himself in the mirror, finally believing his foolish decision of going against the rules had been worthwhile. He’s looking forward to seeing the faces of the Peacekeepers.

Chapter Text

Candy was something that the twelfth district could never have.

Instead of candy, Brad and I would collect mints.

I guess if you asked me what my favorite type of candy is.

I would say mints.

-Lloyd Montgomery

Lloyd and Harumi are taken to the Justice Building and placed in separate rooms. Before the tributes are sent out on the train to reach the Capitol. They are given a couple of moments with their loved ones to say goodbye. Inside the room, there are velvet couches and chairs. It is the most lavish room Lloyd has ever been in.

Lloyd can not help but sit on the lavish couch, allowing himself to sink deeper inside of it, seeking a place to hide from the outside. Wishing for the couch to swallow him whole.

His mind raced through a swarm of thoughts, desperately seeking a single, tangible memory to grasp. A memory of when he was given a mint by Mistake springs forth. He gripped the memory tightly, praying that a blink would erase the reality of this terrible dream. Remembered the sweet taste on his tongue and how happy he was.

With a groan, the wooden door opened to reveal two figures stepping into the space. Wu wasted no time, moving swiftly towards Lloyd, who rose and opened his arms, ready for Wu’s hug. Lloyd’s tense shoulders fell as he found solace in Wu’s embrace, his breathing evening. Wrapped in a warm embrace, he felt like a baby again. Where the reality of life wasn’t even a concept for a baby. Where things were so much simpler.

The last figure stands at the door, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. His black hair stood starkly against the white walls, and his green eyes held no warmth inside them. They seemed to coil around any figure who was latched onto his gaze. It was Lloyd’s cousin called Morro, who is Wu’s adopted son, and he is about four years older than Lloyd. Morro’s parents died during a mining accident, and Wu decided to take Morro in when he was just seven years old.

Lloyd and Morro have a complicated relationship. When they were younger, they got along very well to the point that Lloyd once saw Morro as an older brother. Morro and Chad used to be friends until an accident happened a while back, where Morro began to antagonize the whole world as though the world was pitted against him.

For as long as Lloyd could remember, Morro had always seemed to want Wu’s attention and adoration, and when Wu spent a second too long with Lloyd or dared to praise Lloyd, something coiled inside of Morro. Lloyd always tried to appease Morro to get him not to see Lloyd as a threat but as family. However, Morro could never bring himself to see that.

When Brad died three years ago, Lloyd hit the lowest point of his life, and Morro never bothered to show up. Instead, he would find any excuse not to be in the same room with Lloyd. He actively picked fights with Lloyd to drive him away.

And now at this moment, Morro seems revolted even to be in the same room, even though Lloyd is on the chopping block. It riles Lloyd up, but he ignores Morro's presence and puts his attention to Wu, who says, “I was able to sneak this in for you.”

Wu reaches into his pocket and reveals a small brown bag. He opens it up to reveal a small glass jar. He motions to Lloyd's injured hand. Lloyd brings it up, and Lloyd winces at how his injured hand looks. There is a big bump and red swelling being formed.

“It looks worse than it actually hurts,” Lloyd says, the worry etched on Wu’s face evident as he stares at Lloyd’s hand. The clink of the glass echoed as Wu opened the jar. A shimmering purple liquid poured out, cool against Lloyd’s skin. The swelling receded, and Lloyd’s hand returned to normal, his eyes widening in surprise as he flexed it.

“Want to explain to Wu why you decided to wear that?” Morro suddenly speaks as he stares at Lloyd up and down. Lloyd’s clothes are completely dirtied up, dirt sprinkled everywhere, even on his hair.

“Morro, now is not the time for this sort of banter,” Wu interjects before Lloyd can say something back, causing Morro to scoff as he stops leaning on the wall. He takes a couple of steps closer and peers over at Lloyd's hand and says, “You’re lucky Wu had some of that stuff. If not, you——”

“Would be dead meat when the games begin—— I know,” Lloyd says and eyes Morro, searching his face for any sign of care for his injury, and he finds not a single shred of empathy, perhaps pity.

“You still remember how to use a knife the way I taught years ago,” Morro asks.

Lloyd, frazzled by the questions, racks his brain until a memory resurfaces of Morro suggesting Lloyd learn how to fight or at least defend himself. When Lloyd questions him about why he needed to learn, he would brush it off and say that, as he nears the age of thirteen, he should be prepared for the worst.

And now the worst is here, and now Lloyd has to rely on the teachings of a boy who now hates him.

“Yeah, I do,” Lloyd confirms, and Morro nods his head slowly and pats his shoulder and says, “I guess you're not too hopeless then.”

Wu shakes his head and softly looks at Lloyd and brushes away the dirt from his face when he face-palmed the ground earlier during the scuffle. Wu looks to be on the verge of tears, which would be the first time Lloyd ever saw that sight. No matter how hard life became, Wu never allowed himself to crumble. He had to raise two children by himself; he couldn’t fall.

Lloyd hates that for the last couple of years, he has been wallowing in self-pity, and in the morning, he ignored Wu’s pleas. How he would lock himself in his room, refusing to sit at the dinner table over something that had happened years ago. Over a stupid Chad theory that Wu convinced Brad to volunteer in Lloyd’s stead three years ago.

Wu wouldn't do that

right?

The door opens, revealing a couple of Peacekeepers, who motion that the time is up. Wu and Morro are ushered away, and Lloyd hears Wu yell, “Don't forget who the real enemy is!”

The door shuts, and Lloyd is left in empty silence. He sits back down on the couch and stares hazily at the door. Until the door creaks open and a woman steps forth. She has platinum hair and dull green eyes. She has wrinkles across her forehead, and she stares at Lloyd and cracks a soft smile as the door closes behind her.

It’s Harumi’s mother.

One thing everyone in District Twelve knows is that Harumi is their princess. She’s beautiful, even Lloyd admits it. Her father was a Peacekeeper who died in the line of duty. They say her younger brother is training to follow in his father’s footsteps and bring honor to their family. Harumi is often seen giving food to the needy late at night and reading books to the young ones.

Harumi’s mother was, to put it mildly, a complex woman. She was very formal and did business with Wu and his tea shop. Lloyd and Harumi used to have playdates when they were younger, but those stopped after their third visit.

She walks towards Lloyd and sits beside him, and Lloyd watches her warily until she speaks, “I saw Wu and his son leave just now. I have heard some unsavory rumors about——”

“I would prefer you just tell me what you want from me, Mrs.Jade,” Lloyd interrupts suddenly, causing Harumi's mother to stand still for a second, collecting herself after his abruptness.

“I have forgotten how upfront you are and how honest you are,” she says slowly as she stares off to the side, “As you know, Harumi is my only daughter. My husband is gone, and I wish not to lose more. May you promise me something?”

Lloyd hesitantly nods his head, and she smiles and says, “When the games begin, please look out for her. She may show some unsavory parts of herself, but she is more than that.”

Harumi is the princess needing saving, and Lloyd turns out to be her knight in this story. How sad that is, how she is reduced to. Lloyd opens his mouth, but is interrupted as the peacekeepers call for Mrs.Jade to leave the room. She is ushered out, and Lloyd is left back in the silence.

Lloyd’s eyes begin to sting, but before a tear could even form, the peacekeepers open the door and walk towards him, towering over him as they yank him off the couch and bring him outside the Justice Building, down the steps into a waited car. The door opens, and he is tossed inside like a bag of apples.

Lloyd looks out the window as the driver starts the car, and he sees the Justice Building disappearing afar. Till they make it to the station that is swarming with reporters, all trying to catch a photo of Lloyd and the other tributes who are arriving. Lloyd quickly backs off the window and tries to sink into the seat as though he is a part of the seat.

However, a flash of color catches his eye as he looks up to see a screen showing a replay of what happened a couple of hours ago. It shows the scuffle Lloyd had with the Peacekeeper, of him quickly dodging the fist flying to his face as the elder man punches a peacekeeper in a rash reaction of retaliation for years of abuse.

The way the crowd riles itself up, becoming a force ready to wash away the Peacekeepers, only for the gun to silence the movement completely. For it to be dissolved as though it was never there to begin with. They're most likely showing what happens to those who dare to lay a hand against the Peacekeepers, and how this world works for those who can’t follow simple orders.

It’s a threat straight from the Capital.

However, Lloyd can not help but grin at it. How easy it is to rile the capital.

Chapter Text

District Twelve is known for mining.

Most, if not all, of our school curriculum was about mining and how much we owed President Garmadon for the life we have.

That, thanks to him, he has helped us stay on the correct path.

I’m not entirely sure what “correct path” necessarily means.

However, I know that whatever the cost of the “correct path” is, it is too much for us to bear.

—Lloyd Montgomery

Harumi and Lloyd stand at the doorway for more minutes than either of them wishes to be. They both refuse to look at each other as the cameras flutter around them, trying to get every angle of the tributes.

Lloyd feels a prickling feeling at the back of his neck and turns around to find the source of his discomfort, but all he sees is a wall of cameras with their flash on. He quickly turns his head around and stares at the door, praying for the cameras to grow bored.

The door finally opened. Both of them stepped in as the door shut immediately behind them. With a momentary jolt, the train roared to life, hurtling them towards the capital. If Lloyd recalled correctly, the train moved at 250 miles per hour, so they should reach the capital by the end of the day.

With Lloyd staring at the train’s interior, Harumi immediately walked into the corridor and began searching for her room. Lloyd followed her silently, his footsteps muffled, until he located his chamber. Within the chamber, a large TV screen covers the entire wall, a dressing room is located to the side, and a large bed features red velvet sheets. Lloyd walks towards the dressing room and opens a couple of drawers, finding that in each drawer, dozens of clothes are neatly folded.

Gale Gossip is known for her sense of fashion; it seems as though she was in charge of the clothing department. However, as Lloyd begins to look through the clothes, none of them suit his taste; many are collared shirts or fancy blouses that scream pretentious. How hard is it for a man to find some baggy clothes?

He huffs slightly until, in the last drawer, he finds a plain green sweatshirt and some black pants——close enough. He goes into the shower and takes off his dirty clothing, and takes his first warm shower.

In District 12, warm water is not a given. The number of times he has taken an ice shower is too many, and some of those times, he has gotten sick from it. Luckily, Wu was able to take care of him when he fell ill, but for the other children, it wasn’t always the case.

The water stops, and he dries his hair off and puts on his new clothing, and as he looks into the mirror in the bathroom, he notices that his eyes are a bit off. At first, he wants to dismiss it that it is just the fog blurring up the mirror, so he uses a random cloth to clear it up, but the strangeness is still there.

His green eyes are strangely greener. However, as he blinks, the brightness of it goes away as though it were never there. Lloyd stands still at the mirror until his stomach suddenly growls, announcing he hasn’t eaten a single thing in a long time.

He closes the restroom door and heads out of his room into the corridor, where he hears Gale Gossip humming about inside the train. Golden, stained drawings decorate the walls of the hallway. The image portrays a golden dragon that spans the walls, its wings outstretched and wrapping around them. Lloyd can’t help but bring his fingers towards the dragon, feeling the rough pattern underneath his fingertips, and as he loosely traces the drawing, a memory resurfaces.

Dragons used to roam Ninjago, but their presence faded into history. Legend has it that dragons, with their powerful wings, are the only beings who can traverse all the different realms. They may have left because of poaching, or perhaps Ninjago had become tiresome for them.

It was said that every ninja had their own dragon. Their dragon was connected to their element, and a ninja is nothing without their dragon. Their connection is a special thing—a sacred relationship.

The Golden Dragon, however, was more special. It is whispered that the Golden Dragon only responds to one person, and that is FSM.

It’s strange, Lloyd notes. He is confused as to why a drawing of a dragon is placed inside the tribute train. Garmadon refuses to allow anything connected to the ninja to be spoken, drawn, or taught. Anything in relation to FSM is forbidden.

So how did this sneak in?

Just due to aesthetics?

“Oh! There you are, Lloyd! Hurry up now, the food is warm,” Gale enthusiastically waves over to Lloyd at the other end of the corridor. Lloyd lets go of the wall and walks over to Gale.

Inside the main lobby, there is a wine cellar at the back filled with wines from places Lloyd has no clue how to pronounce. On the left side of the cellar, there is a locked wooden door. A couple of steps from Lloyd, there is a glass table filled with all sorts of food and chairs wrapped around the table.

On the opposite side of the table, Gale sits, while Lloyd takes the seat right next to him, his gaze fixed on his plate. The roasted turkey, the perfectly domed white rice, and the vibrant green veggies were a feast for the eyes.

Lloyd grabs the utensils off to the side and begins to eat as he hears the click of a door open behind him in the hallway. Harumi emerges and walks towards the table and looks down at the table, and signs as she sits down on the chair beside Lloyd directly in front of Gale. She grabs the utensils and begins to eat silently.

“My, you two have great manners! Last tributes ate like savage animals. They couldn’t even bother trying a spoon or a fork,” she says, slowly shaking her head and with clear disgust showing on her face as she remembers.

With a sharp, echoing clang, Harumi’s fork hit the table, causing Gale Gossip to flinch in surprise. She uses her hand to grab a clump of white rice and shoves it into her mouth. As she munches on the rice, she meets Gale’s eyes, and she smiles with not a hint of affection in her eyes.

Gale quickly looks away as Lloyd softly chuckles at what is transpiring in front of him. A movement catches Lloyd’s eye as he stares into the windows that are throughout the train’s lobby. The high velocity of the train makes it hard to catch many things, but enough for Lloyd to note how different each district is, or how different it is from his home.

District 12 has only won once, and that was in the first Hunger Games. It was a mistake, a glitch that shouldn’t have ever happened, but it did. She was seventeen years old, exactly the same age as Lloyd. She had three younger sisters and a mother and father who needed her at home with their herb shop.

She won by playing as a scared young girl, gaining the other tributes’ sympathy and then poisoning them in their sleep. The capital calls her The Pretty Snake. Garmadon was noted to be furious with the turn of events. However, his hands were tied behind his back; he couldn’t cause direct harm to the first-ever Hunger Games winner.

So in all the other games that followed afterwards, District 12 became a target. Most of the tributes died in the first half, and those who made it to the second wished they hadn’t.

The wooden door clicks as a figure emerges. Showing a woman in her mid-thirties with jet black hair tied tightly into a bun, with gray white hair intertwining with the black hair. Slight eye bags underneath her tired eyes—-it’s Mistake Harumi and Lloyd’s mentor.

She rounds the corner into the cellar and grabs a bottle of wine and opens it, and takes a big gulp. Until she thunks it on the countertop and looks up to eye everyone sitting at the table watching her wide-eyed.

Harumi looks displeased, but doesn’t comment, and Gale Gossip gets up quickly and walks over to Mistake, trying to get the wine bottle off her hands. Lloyd watches with shock—it’s been years since he last saw Mistake.

When Lloyd was young, he and Brad would frequently stop by Mistake’s house, where Mistake continued to be kind and caring, despite the events of The Hunger Games. She wasn’t a snake to those of District 12; she was a person. She leveraged her wealth and influence to uplift those in her community, extending a helping hand wherever she could. Insults bounced off her, never drawing a reaction.

Lloyd loved visiting her and enjoyed the mints she would give him. Until one day a horrible accident happened, killing all of Mistake family, leaving her as the sole remaining. She was distraught and refused to leave her new Capitol-built home, which all Hunger Games winners get. She spent her money on buying alcohol and getting wasted, refusing to speak to anyone. Even Wu had a hard time reaching her.

“Would you care to take a seat?” Harumi says as she motions to the empty chair. Mistake looks over to the chair and then back at Harumi and says, “I’ve already eaten.”

“Well, then, as our mentor, shouldn’t you offer some of your great wisdom and experience?” Harumi says curtly as she stabs into her turkey.

Mistake huffs and lets go of the wine bottle in her hand, and it drops into Gale Gosisp’s hands, who gently places the bottle onto the counter. Mistake slowly walks over to the table and stands above Harumi and says, “Careful, princess, outside your district, you are a quick, easy kill. Your masks won’t work out there.”

“Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go take a nap,” she says as she walks hurriedly over to the door and slams it shut behind her.

There is a bit of an echo as all three stare at the door until Gale awkwardly walks over with a remote in her hand and says, “Would you like to watch recaps of the reaping to brainstorm together?”

They go inside a room inside the train where they begin to watch recaps of the reaping across Ninjago. Of children going up onto the stage as their name is called and the moment they have in the arena. Lloyd requests that they skip the thirteenth reaping year. Gale tries to question why, but she is immediately shot down.

As the hours went by, they found themselves watching videos of their rivals being announced for the reaping. Harumi’s eyebrows furrowed at the sight of the District 2 tributes: a girl named Violet with a buzz cut, and her towering brother, Killow, who looked like he could crush a person with a single hand.

“Stupid Steroids,” Harumi mutters as she stares at Killow, who flexes his muscles to the screen as the crowd cheers.

“I would look out for this duo; they have a history of being very — how should I say—unique?” Gale says hesitantly.

“You mean sadistic rich kids?” Harumi questions, to which Gale nods slowly, and Lloyd shudders at the idea of going against either of the two siblings.

For District 3, the boy and girl tributes stood out, for both seemed to be half-human and half-nindroid. “The boy’s name is Zane and the girl is Pixel,” says Gale as she watches them with piqued interest.

“How is this fair? One district's tribute has an infinite amount of steroids pumped inside them, and the other is half-robot and could be a perfect killing machine,” Harumi huffs in frustration and looks at Gale for an explanation.

“The Hunger Games isn’t dictated by strength and smarts only; it's also dependent on luck,” Gale huffs as she continues, “They may be half-robots, but the other half is human, meaning they can still have flaws and make mistakes during the games.”

“Also, they are fragile; they can’t repair themselves inside the game, can they?” Lloyd questions suddenly.

“Nope, if they fry their motherboards or any of their wires, they are toast. There is limited stuff allowed inside the arena, and what these guys need will not all be accessible,” Gale confirms.

Harumi hums and seems to feel slowly better at their odds as she continues to stare at the screen showing the tributes for district four, another pair of siblings. Supposedly, their parents are famous blacksmiths.

Lloyd winces as he watches the District 5 boy tribute, who is a stuttering mess as he speaks into the microphone. Lightning crackles around him as his nerves are on fire. Lloyd can’t help but feel bad for the guy.

As time passed, Harumi and Lloyd watched more tributes take the stage, and by the time they reached the District 11 recordings, both appeared utterly exhausted. However, Lloyd’s ears perked up at the sound of a young boy’s voice, and he looked at the screen, which showed a thirteen-year-old boy with short curly hair, who was anxiously playing with his thumbs. Gale, sensing Lloyd’s intrigue, began, “Arin’s his name, and his parents are missing, with no one knowing what happened to them.”

Lloyd stares blankly at Arin, and bile begins to rise as the image of Arin slowly begins to fade to another boy who left Lloyd’s life too soon.

Lloyd shoots up and urgently says, “I’m tired, I’m going to sleep,” before Harumi or Gale can say anything. Lloyd rushes out of the room and hurriedly walks into his room, slamming the door behind him and leaning his back against the door as he slowly sinks into the floor.

It was going to be a long night. 

Chapter Text

Sometimes I can’t help but feel jealous of other kids.

I know I live better than most, having Uncle Wu as my guardian, but when I see the way Brad’s mother looks at him—with so much warmth — I can’t help but feel like I am lacking something important.

A warmth that can never be replaced by anything.

-Lloyd Montgomery

At the train station, a boy with dark brown hair and fiery red-tinged eyes was completely absorbed, intensely staring at the TV screen. He watches as the District 12 boy tribute gets his hand crushed by a Peacekeeper, and in the next second, a bullet flies into the head of an elderly man. The screen cuts to the other tributes, who calmly and gracefully accept their place.

“Kai, can you quit staring already? We need to move,” a young girl’s voice causes Kai to take his eyes off the screen and turn to her. Her black hair is cut short right beside her chin, and she has soft blue eyes.

“Did you see what happened at District 12, Nya? Stuff like that never gets televised!” Kai says enthusiastically, looking at Nya for comment.

“The only reason they are showing it so publicly is to demonize District 12 and to make sure that the other districts know what happened when we don’t follow basic rules,” Nya says, raising an eyebrow at Kai.

“Yet, that kid still did it! He knew the consequences and still chose not to follow orders! Maybe if we team up with him—-” Kai gets interrupted as Nya quickly covers his mouth with her palm.

“Do you have any clue what you're suggesting!” she hisses and looks around to ensure no one is close by hearing them and continues, “He’s from District 12, the very district President Garmadon picks on the most, and the Capital. We teamed up with him; we put a target on our backs.”

Kai’s eyebrows scrunch as he stares at Nya with disappointment, and Nya sighs and releases her grip on his face. Her eyes soften, and as she opens her mouth, a sudden click causes her to shut it right back up. A dozen cameras appear, all flashing as they take multiple angles of her and Kai.

The sibling duo from District 4.

Clutching Nya’s hand, Kai moved past the flashing cameras deeper into the train station, and as they hurried along, he said, “I know it’s a silly thought, but I can’t shake the feeling that we three can make a difference.”

“Kai, our parents are being held captive by the capital due to their dealings with you know who. We are lucky that they didn’t do anything to us,” Nya hisses as both Kai and she have to squeeze between another group of cameras.

“Until now,” Kya spits out with venom. Nya grows silent at the statement, and she doesn’t disagree with it.

District 4’s inhabitants mainly fish, and Nya, along with her mother, possesses exceptional fishing abilities. Before Garmadon became president, his father, FSM, ruled Ninjago for thousands of years. Supposedly, he had another son aside from Garmadon, someone whom the people preferred, yet when FSM died, Garmadon rose to power. His brother disappeared as though he had never existed, and before the people knew it, Garmadon was their president.

Kai and Nya’s father, during the FSM reign, was a famous blacksmith known for making top-notch swords. However, when Garmadon became President, their blacksmith shop had to be closed down, and their family was forced to become fishermen.

Nya’s mother excelled in fishing and was able to be the main source of income. Nya even at a young age, showed herself to be quite gifted at sea. Somehow, fishes were drawn to her. While Kai was on a boat, it always seemed to end in disaster. He could never catch a fish, and a bite on his bait would drag him down, over the boat, and into the water.

But it didn’t mean that Kai was useless. Like his father, he was also great at making swords and was very athletic, and could carry the same weight on his shoulder as any grown man could.

When Nya was ten, her parents suddenly became very distant, taking in longer shifts than needed, and when they came home, they would close themselves inside their room, and always came back out exhausted. One time when Nya went in to check in on them, she found their room empty even though she knew her parents had just gone in.

Kai began to raise her, making sure she ate three meals a day and ironed her clothes before she went off to fish. Nya doesn’t know when, but slowly Kai began to take the spot of their parents, and Nya’s world only became the two of them.

About six months ago, their home was raided by the Peacekeepers. They searched the house and dragged Nya’s parents outside early in the morning to tell them and the district that they were being arrested for terrorism.

She remembered a crowd forming around her home, watching the event unfold, but not a single person left the crowd. No one said a thing; they only watched.

Frozen to the spot, Nya watched in horror as her mother was pushed roughly onto the ground. Fear paralyzed her as her world spun, but a boy’s shout pierced the silence, pulling her from the chilling depths. A Peacekeeper roughly pulled her brother along, his arm being yanked as they walked past Nya’s anxious parents.

As they pinned him to the ground, he thrashed wildly, and a pained yelp escaped his lips. Nya rushes outside, ignoring her fear as she runs towards her brother—-to free him from their grip. She was consumed by the thought of her family when suddenly a sharp pain struck her head, forcing her to fall to the floor. As she struggled to her feet, her vision blurred as she gazed up at the imposing silhouette of the Peacekeeper.

The echo of her brother’s shout reverberated as Nya faced the Peackeeper’s outstretched hand, but a new, deeper voice cut through the tense silence.

As she hesitantly opened her eyes and looked to the side, the crowd separated to reveal a figure emerging. He is dressed in a full-length black robe adorned with intricate golden silk embroidery running through the sleeves. His hands are covered with black gloves that have an embroidered golden G on them.

The Peacekeeper near Nya stumbles back. Nya’s heart drops, a cold weight in her gut as her vision sharpens. President Garmadon, a looming shadow, approaches. He pauses a few feet from her family. His gaze is cold, unwavering. A low snort escapes him, cutting through the tense silence.

“I knew that one day you two would try something like this, but so soon?” Garmadon questions as he peers down at her parents, who both refuse to look up and answer him. Causing Garmadon to sign and say out loud for all to hear, “Do the little ones know?” he looks over to Nya. His red eyes bore into Nya’s soul, and she couldn’t help but shake.

“No, Sir, it seems as though they were unaware. However, I would still like—-”

“Leave it then,” Garmadon said swiftly.

The soldier immediately released his grip on Kai. The others, still clutching her parents, lifted them and began dragging them away. Nya stayed frozen on the floor, unable to move in the oppressive air that Garmadon brought.

Nya and Kai could only stand there and watch their parents disappear into the fading distance.

“Nya, he’s here!“ Kai says, his voice cutting through Nya’s thoughts, and she sees the wall of cameras flashing as they focus on the tributes.

Nya notices Harumi, the District 12 tribute, growing more and more irritated by the constant clicking of the cameras. The boy, Lloyd, appears to want to vanish into the floor.

Lloyd perks up suddenly; he turns around and stares directly at them, and Nya is a bit surprised by the vivid green of his eyes. Although the recording showed they were green, she felt a little uneasy when she saw them in person.

However, he quickly flinches as a camera flashes directly in his eyes. He quickly turns around, and the train door opens, and he and Harumi immediately go inside, the door closing promptly behind them.

“Let’s get a move on, Kai,” she says, looking away from the doors of the train and dragging Kai along to their correct door.

In front of his school, twelve-year-old Lloyd was waiting for Wu to pick him up and go home. Wu was usually early, meeting Lloyd right away, but for some reason, Wu was not present. Brad had already been picked up by his mom, leaving Lloyd all alone.

Until Lloyd spots Morro around the corner. His shoulders are tense, and he looks more pissed off than usual. Morro notices Lloyd and quickly walks over to him and looks him up and down, and mutters something under his breath that Lloyd can not quite catch.

“Where’s Wu?” Lloyd asks, and Morro's shoulders tense even more so, like a cat who has spotted water, “Too busy reading scrolls, he sent me here to get you. So hurry up.”

Morro quickly turns and begins to walk, not even looking back to make sure Lloyd is following. Lloyd grumbles but follows him. Lloyd stares at Morro’s back as he ponders what could have possibly happened for Wu not to show up and for Morro to come instead.

Recently, Morro has been acting strangely. Morro loved to train and was the athletic type, always chasing after something until one day in the middle of the night, he heard a glass cup fall, shocking him awake. When Lloyd peered to check the commotion, he heard the murmur of voices of Morro and Wu arguing about a scroll and prophecy.

Lloyd tried to listen more, but Morro left the house, slamming the door shut, ending the conversation before Lloyd could catch what it exactly was.

After that argument, Morro began to grow distant from Lloyd, and anytime Wu spoke to Lloyd, Morro's mood worsened. Lloyd tried to find a resolution, but Morro would lash out and say mean things to Lloyd that Lloyd himself knew Morro did not mean.

Morro suddenly stops walking at one of the alleyways to their home and says, “Has Wu told you anything about the scrolls he has up in the attic?”

“No, why?”

Morro laughs, “I can’t believe that old man.” Morro kicks a stray rock that hits the wall loudly.

“Is there something I need to know?” Lloyd is beginning to get annoyed by all the secrets.

“You can’t be that oblivious, can you?” Morro snarks back and finally faces Lloyd. Finally, Lloyd can see that the eyebags under Morro's eyes have worsened.

“You don’t talk to me or Chad anymore. How am I supposed to know what’s going on inside your mind if you don’t say anything!” he burst out loud, looking Morro straight on, pleading with his eyes for Morro to say something. Only for Morro to look away. He looks over Lloyd’s shoulder out into the distance and mutters, “This wasn’t supposed to happen, not like this.”

“What?”

Morro begins to hold his head, massaging his temples. “You can’t even hold a kitchen knife without shaking like a leaf.”

“What the hell, Morro? What are you——”

“Hell, when you were younger, you wanted to be a Peacekeeper—”

“Why are you bringing that up? I was a stupid little kid, okay? I changed, I don’t——”

“That’s the problem, Lloyd, you haven’t! You think you have—but you haven’t.” Morro says, raising his voice, echoing through the empty alley, reverberating through Lloyd's mind.

Lloyd has not changed a bit.

That’s not true.

He has.

Hant he?

So why can’t Lloyd open his mouth and retort to the accusation thrown at him? Why is his throat swelling up with guilt as though it’s an admission that Morro is right? Maybe he is still the same brainwashed kid who thought once upon a time Garmadon was always correct, who thought there was a reasoning for their suffering, that they deserved it.

It’s cruel of Morro to bring up the past— because he’s not like that anymore. He’s torn up the Garmadon posters on his wall and the books he’s collected about Garmadon. He doesn’t want to be like him anymore. It was just a phase, a weird one, but a phase nonetheless, that made no sense.

Morro is just picking a fight, and it’s working. He’s trying to change the subject because he would rather die than actually say what’s wrong.

“What is in the scrolls?” Lloyd questions, and Morro jolts at the question, holding no expectation for Lloyd to ask. He sighs and says, “Now you care?”

“What’s in it, Morro” he hisses, and Morro smiles at his displeasure. A smile that doesn’t reach his eyes and says, “What do you think is in it?”

You can’t be that oblivious

He’s correct; Lloyd isn’t completely clueless; he understands enough to know he wants no part in this. He’d prefer to shut the door, bury himself in his blankets, and act as though he doesn’t know Wu’s secret. Lloyd noticed the elderly giving Wu glances, as if they shared a hidden understanding. They gazed at Wu with hopeful, optimistic expressions, as if he held the key to a better future.

That Wu—his annoying uncle, who sometimes forgets to brush his teeth — is someone special. That he’s not just some tea maker on the far side of District 12, that he’s some leader.

Accepting that Wu may be a part of them makes Lloyd scared. He would have to accept the scrolls up in the attic, about the ninjas, and the prophecy that the older folk murmur about.

If it’s real, then that means there’s a chosen one, and the slow realization of who that might be causes him anxiety. He truly, deeply desired that it would be Morro. He was smarter, faster, and had the rebellious streak in his hair. He was meant to be the leader of the rebellion.

Not Lloyd, a scared twelve-year-old kid who used to be a Garmadon fanboy and wanted to be like him. To rule with fear and punish the helpless. It wasn’t meant to be him, and Morro knows that, and he hates the idea of it being Lloyd.

And Lloyd hates the way Wu looks at him as though Lloyd is capable of anything good. There is hope that he can do something. Hell, even Brad has begun to catch on to the whole prophecy thing, and he, too, has begun to look strangely at Lloyd.

It’s too much pressure—— too little time; none of this is right——

“Morro, what are you doing?” Wu's voice cuts through Lloyd's anxious thoughts. Lloyd looks up to see that at the end of the alleyway, there is Wu with a look of displeasure riddled through his eyes. He sternly watches Morro, who huffs a bit and slides his hands into his pockets and begins walking away from Wu, passing Lloyd, brushing his shoulder, and leaving.

Wu signs and walks over to Lloyd. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Lloyd squeezes out, making it very obvious that everything is not okay. However, Wu accepts it and places a hand on his shoulder. It was meant to be comforting, and in any other situation, it would have been. However, it feels like a burden of weight and responsibility.

The light from the curtain peers through, hitting Lloyd's eyes, awakening him from his memories. Gale Gossip opens the door wide. “Up! Up! It’s a big day!”

With a groan, Lloyd tries to pull the covers over himself, but Gale snatches them away, excitedly rattling off reasons why the day is significant and instructing to hurry and get ready. After that, she heads out to Harumi’s door. Lloyd slowly climbs out of bed and begins to get dressed, sifting through the drawers until he finds a basic black shirt and some dark gray pants. He grabs his clothes, enters the bathroom, starts changing, and is about to leave when a sudden flash of bright light grabs his attention.

As he looked in the mirror, Lloyd’s eyes began to glow, similar to a light stick turning on, but then quickly faded. When it happened for the first time yesterday, Lloyd thought it was either nerves or fatigue that was making him see things. However, he is now confused about what is going on. Is it a disease?

“Lloyd, let’s go!”” Gale's voice shouts on the other side of the door, making Lloyd quickly look away from the mirror and opens the door, seeing Gale's smiling face, and she says, “Would you like to try hot chocolate?”

Lloyd glanced downward and saw her holding a black mug, from which a pleasant scent was rising. Lloyd seemed bewildered, but he took the mug that was offered. He felt the warmth coming from it and glanced back at Gale, whose eyes were sparkling as she anticipated his sip. He brings it to his mouth, takes a sip, and it’s the greatest thing he’s ever tasted—second only to mints.

“This is amazing,” he says, and Gale smiles bigger and says, “Yes! I’m so happy someone appreciates it Harumi spat out.”

That makes sense. Harumi probably doesn’t have a sweet tooth in her body. Lloyd follows Gale out of his room into the dining car, and Lloyd sees Mistake sitting down at the dining table with Harumi on the side, who is picking at the food on her plate. Lloyd sits in the same chair he sat in last time. The food in front of Lloyd is eggs, ham, and fried potatoes. There is also a basket of bread rolls and a glass filled with orange juice. Lloyd begins to eat as Harumi says, “So you're supposed to give us advice.”

“Here some advice. Stay alive,” Mistake says, taking a large bite of ham. She then reaches for the wine bottle, but Harumi swiftly snatches it away, putting it out of her reach. Harumi begins to speak, but Mistake swiftly punches her in the jaw, making her cry out, and then Mistake tries to grab the bottle again, only to have a steel butter knife suddenly slam down near her fingers.

Lloyd keeps the butter knife down and sees Mistake ball her hand into a fist, but she doesn’t strike; she giggles and says, “I know those green eyes anywhere—Little germ!” She unfurls her fist and latches her hand over his shoulder. Harumi holds her jaw as Gale quickly hands her an ice pack.

“Hi?” Lloyd squeaks out at the quick change from Mistake, whose eyes sparkle with mischief. “Didn’t know we had a pair of fighters.”

She looks over at Harumi, who presses the ice pack to her jaw and says, “Don't do that. Let the bruise show. It makes you look stronger to the audience. Makes them think you have a shot and are worth investing in.”

Harumi furrows her eyebrows and gives the ice pack back to Gale. She then looks over to Lloyd and asks, “Can you hit anything with that knife aside from almost my fingers?”

Lloyd shrugs his shoulders, and Mistake nods to herself and lets go of his shoulder and walks over to the lobby and motions for the two tributes to walk over, which they both do. They stand there as Mistake circles around them with her hand on her chin as she murmurs to herself until she claps her hands and says, “All right. I’ll make you a deal. Allow me to drink and I’ll stay sober to aid you.”

“Deal,” Harumi states quickly, and Lloyd nods, approving the judgment, and Mistake smiles.

“When we get to the arena, what is the best—-”

“One thing at a time. In a few moments, we will be pulling into the station. You’ll be put in the hands of your stylist. You're not going to like what they do to you. But no matter what it is, don’t resist,” Mistake says.

“But—” Lloyd begins to speak only to be cut off by Mistake.

“No buts. Don't resist,” says Mistake as she takes a bottle of wine from the table and makes her leave. As the door closes behind her, the car goes dark as they enter a tunnel. There is a tunnel that runs through the mountains into the capital. The mountain forms a natural barrier between the capital to the districts. This perfect barrier was what made the rebellion lose. Without the element of earth, it was destined to fail. Having to scale up the mountain made them easy to pick off one by one by the capital.

As they stand in darkness, Lloyd's mind goes wandering about the possibility of whether they have a shot at winning. He knows Harumi will fight to survive; he’s seen the way she calculates when entering a room. The mask she puts up depends on who is inside the room.

The train’s brakes hiss, and a bright light floods the cart. Harumi rushes to the window, Lloyd close behind. The Capital bursts into view: gleaming buildings pierce the clouds, giant lights blaze. Shiny cars zoom on paved streets, the air buzzing with energy. Colorful abstract clothing adorns the people, their hair dyed.

As the tribute train passed, the crowd’s excited shouts grew louder when Harumi and Lloyd glanced their way. Harumi suddenly began waving and smiling at the capital folks. The train then stopped at the station, obscuring them from the capital view.

“Who knows, someone there might be a rich person,” she says, shrugging her shoulders, and walks away from the window, and Lloyd stares at her back as she goes towards the exit door.

Lloyd turned to look back, his eyes fixed on the hallway that held the magnificent golden dragon on its wall. With a sudden turn, he quickly followed Harumi, his footsteps echoing.

Chapter Text

Outside the twelve districts, there is a barren land of waste and the dead.

Every tree stands bare, without a single leaf in sight. The grass was reduced to dust, and each breath carried dust into people’s lungs.

However, it wasn’t always like that.

It used to be filled with life.

We like to call it District Thirteen.

-Lloyd Montgomery

“Here you go!” says a woman with aqua hair and gold tattoos over her eyebrows. She holds between her fingers a see-through green pill, motioning it towards Lloyd. Lloyd hesitantly reaches and grabs it but doesn’t place it in his mouth; he hesitates.

“It’s a pill that regulates your hormones. The capital doesn’t like facial hair on the boys. It will help you,” she says with a smile, trying to reassure Lloyd. He signs and puts it in his mouth and swallows, and he can feel it travel down his tongue to his throat until it drops to his stomach. It leaves a tangy taste on his tongue, and he sees the women staring closely at him, and he asks, “Is there something more?”

She quickly looks away and says, “Nope! You are good to go!”

Lloyd sighs in relief. He’s been at the Remake Center for hours. After being scrubbed with gritty foam that removed all the dirt off Lloyd as well as many layers of his skin., cutting his nails and shaping them, and lastly cutting his hair that had become a rat’s nest.

During the cutting of his hair, two other women, one with yellow hair and the other with pink hair, came into the room and began to pick at any imperfections. One stating it should be cut shorter, another arguing the opposite. The argument goes on for longer than it should have until the third woman with aqua hair decides to leave it at the length it is currently at.

They later leave as they call for Gandalaria, the woman who is his stylist. Lloyd waits anxiously, glancing around the room. He nervously plays with his hair, repeatedly running his fingers through it, appreciating its softness. Suddenly, a sharp, throbbing pain pierces his head. He grabs hold of his head as a buzz begins to fill his ears.

He snaps his eyes shut and, through the darkness, he begins to see unknown shapes and colors. The shapes run across the dark void until sparks of color erupt, revealing a clear image.

Tall green trees filled the forest, their leaves rustling in the breeze as they stretched toward the blue sky above. Hundreds of leaves were scattered around the ground, and the sound of birds chirping overshadowed the buzzing in Lloyd’s ears. Bringing a sense of calmness to the whole situation before him.

He looks around hastily and sees a young girl a couple of steps away from him, peeking out from one of the trees. She has bright orange hair that is tied into a loose ponytail; she looks to be around Lloyd’s age. Her bright green eyes are strangely familiar. Everything about her feels recognizable, yet Lloyd has never met her in his entire life.

“Hello?” Lloyd croaks out, startling himself, realizing how strained his voice is. The girl's eyes open wide, and she quickly turns around and begins running deeper into the forest. Lloyd quickly gives chase. Each step against the fallen leaves echoes and reverberates inside Lloyd's head.

Lloyd is a quick runner, so he quickly caught up to her and reached his hand out to grab her arm, only for a gust of wind to send him sprawling back, landing harshly on his back on the ground. He quickly pulls himself up and sees the girl getting further and further away, and a frantic feeling blossoms inside his stomach. It feels like he’s losing something all over again. Something he can not wrap his mind around.

He quickly recovers and begins running, trying to catch up once more, but it is impossible; the girl slowly but surely disappears into the forest. Leaving Lloyd with a loss of air in his lungs. Sweat trickles down his face as he yells in frustration, only for those yells to echo right back at him, and the sound of the bird singing suddenly stops.

The buzzing begins to grow and thrums in his head so harshly that he grows dizzy. He leaned on a tree for support as the large green forest began to fade around him. The image slowly unravels in itself, and when Lloyd opens his eyes, he finds himself leaning against the cold gray walls of the Remake Center.

The door opens, revealing a woman with bright red hair with yellow, blue, and purple dyed strands throughout her hair. She wears red round glasses and a weirdly witch-like hat on top of her head. Her clothing is surprisingly normal: a simple black shirt and black pants.

She looks around until she spots Lloyd and notices his peculiar demeanor, hunched against the wall. Her eyes locked with his eyes. Lloyd’s green eyes are once more humming with vibrancy until they dim down. She closes the door behind her and carefully examines the room, noticing that the cameras around the room are flashing red. She sighs and reaches into her pockets, grabbing a small white orb. She speaks into it, “Hey, birdie, can you feed the dog for ten minutes and take the dog food out of the house? It shouldn’t take longer than ten minutes.”

A murmur is heard back confirming. She watches as the bright red light coming from the camera changes to green, and she smiles, placing the orb back into her pockets. She walks over to Lloyd with both her hands up and cautiously says, “I know that must have been a bad experience. No, we didn’t poison you. President Garmadon has been—”

“What the hell was that?” Lloyd hisses as he pulls himself off the wall, but his legs begin to give out, and he stumbles a bit and quickly grabs onto the wall again.

Her brows furrow, and she sighs deeply, putting her hands on her hips. “Wu told me you were strong-headed, but my, this is too much.”

Lloyd's eyes open wide at the mention of Wu, his uncle. He looks at her with suspicion, but nods for her to continue, which she does. “My name is Gandalaria. I am an old friend of Wu. He told me to expect you and to plan accordingly. That pill you ate was designed by me and made by me. It is meant to suppress your element until the rebellion gets you out.”

Element?

Suppress?

Rebellion?

Are the three words floating around Lloyd’s mind. It’s crazy—it's stupid—it's insane. Lloyd feels as though he is floating in space after the pill——drug——hallucination, and now Gandalaria is talking about the rebellion and getting him out. It’s insane; there is no way that the rebellion could ever stand a chance against Garmadon. In fact, it is impossible for them to get the tributes out. The last time it was attempted was in the 13th Hunger Games, and it ended disastrously.

Lloyd chuckles and says, “You're insane.”

She smiles at that. “You have to be insane to do the things we do.”

Lloyd shakes his head in disbelief and wishes that the pill were poison just to take him out of his misery. “So why would the rebellion want to get me out? What about the others? What about Harumi?”

“That’s simple because of the prophecy!” She says simply, which isn’t so simple for Lloyd, who cracks his head to the side.

“You can not be serious,” he groans as he thunks his head on the wall.

“I am!” she says as she walks over to Lloyd and continues, “As I was trying to say earlier, before you rudely interrupted me. President Garmadon is terribly afraid of the reincarnation of the ninjas appearing. It would ruin his secret plans, which we have yet to figure out, by the way. All we know is that he’s trying to find a way out of the prophecy, a loophole of sorts. So, he used the Hunger Games to distract us, making us too busy trying to survive to see the bigger picture. As well as for him to snuff out the reincarnation before they can grow to a threat.”

“So my uncle's theory that he always rambled off to me was true?” he questions, and she rolls her eyes and nods her head. Then he asks, “Wait, what is the prophecy about? I’ve only heard little pieces of it, and that was enough for me to stop listening.”

“The Dark Lord will rise to power and throw Ninjago into darkness. A new age of time will be created, and only through the help of the five ninjas will the green ninja be able to defeat the Dark Lord.’”” she says without missing a beat.

Lloyd nods his head slowly. “Wow, that was pretty straightforward.”

She shrugs her shoulder and says, “Yeah, and now that we have the green ninja, finding the other five shouldn’t be too hard. In fact, we were worried that we would never find you.”

“Um, I’m not the green ninja,” says Lloyd.

“What?” she squeaks out.

“When I was twelve, yeah, Wu thought I was. However, every time he tried to train me and all that jazz, it never worked out. The past green ninja was really good with a bow. I can’t shoot for my life. He was charismatic—I’m not. He was known for exceptional leadership skills, and I can not do that very well. Last time I tried to be a leader in a group assignment in school, everyone failed it,” he says, shrugging his shoulders.

“Kid, your eyes were glowing green a couple of seconds ago. Give it time and—-”

“Do we have time?” Lloyd questions. Does the rebellion have time to put its bets on Lloyd? Lloyd was meant to go to the 13th Hunger Games; he was supposed to be ready then, but he wasn’t.

He stood like a scared kid when his name was called. Frozen in fear that poor Brad volunteered himself up. Brad died because Lloyd couldn’t take a step forward.

“You're right; we don’t have much time, “ she says as she nods to the camera that still flashes green. “We can discuss this later; now we need to get a move on before they realize what’s going on.”

“Once we leave these doors, you can not speak about what happened here or what I said, alright.” Before Lloyd can answer, she spins around and begins to walk out, and Lloyd glances at the camera and notices that it is now red. He sighs but gathers his strength and follows her out into the sitting room.

Two red couches face off over a low table. Three of the four walls are blank, while the fourth is glass. Allowing those to see the city. Lloyd peers out and sees the sun still out. Gandalaria gestures for Lloyd to take a seat, and he does. She sits across from him and presses a button on the side of the table. The counter splits, and from below rises a second tabletop containing our lunch. Chicken cooked in a creamy sauce on top of white rice; beside the chicken there are glistening oranges, and for dessert, a pudding of honey.

Lloyd drools at the sight. Being raised by Wu came with some advantages, but never anything like this. Chickens are too expensive. To get an orange, one would need to trade a chicken. And for dessert, it would be impossible to gain, for District Twelve doesn’t have the liberty for chocolate or anything sweet. The closest thing he could get to a sweet treat was a mint.

What must it be like to simply press a button and food appears at your beck and call? The luxury lifestyle that could only be found in the capital began to feel like a rock inside his stomach.

Gandalaria's eyes stare intensely into Lloyd's. “How despicable we must seem to you.”

Lloyd was never good at hiding his emotions. His face is riddled with all his emotions.

“No matter,” says Gandalaria. “So, Lloyd, about your costume for the opening ceremonies. My partner, Portia, is the stylist for your fellow tribute, Harumi. And our current thought is to dress you in complementary costumes. As you know, it’s customary to reflect the flavor of the districts.”

For the opening ceremonies, the tributes are supposed to wear something that suggests a relation to their district. District 11, agriculture. District 4, fishing. District 3, factories. This means that, coming from District 12, Harumi and he will be in some kind of coal miners’ getup. Since the jumpsuits are baggy and not the most aesthetic, the tributes usually end up with skimpy outfits and hats with headlamps.

There was one year where District 12 tributes were stark naked and covered in black powder to represent coal dust. It’s always dreadful and does nothing to win favor with the crowd. Lloyd prepares himself for the worst.

“So, I’ll be in the cool coal miner outfit?” Lloyd asks with a hopeful spirit.

“Not exactly. You see, Portia and I think that coal miner things are very overdone. No one will remember you in that. And we both see it as our job to make the District 12 tributes unforgettable,” says Gandalaria with a soft smile.

Which doesn’t help Lloyd’s nerves as he begins to imagine the worst possible scenario.

“Before Ninjago was split into 12 districts, the land that is now known as District 12 used to be considered the dragon lands. Dragons were known to build their nests inside the tunnels we use now to mine for coal. Precious minerals like gems were gathered by them, and they would build a nest of treasure. Many would come to District 12 land in hopes of seeing a dragon, for there was a superstition that it would bring luck,” she says as she picks up her fork and sinks it into the chicken.

“Wouldn’t it be interesting if we reminded the world that coal isn’t the only thing that can be found—that can be burned?” She says with a wide manic grin as she stuffs a big chunk of chicken into her mouth. Lloyd is left dazzled and speechless.

“You’re not afraid of fire, are you, Lloyd?” she says.

A few hours later, Lloyd is dressed in a dark black unitard that covers his ankles up to his neck. Shiny leather boots lace up to his knees, and a fluttering cape that is made of gold silk. Gandalaria plans to set them on fire just before their chariot rolls into the streets.

“It’s not a real flame, of course, just a little magic spell I cast onto the cape. You’ll be perfectly safe!” She says, patting his shoulder, and mutters softly, “If I cast it correctly.”

“What?!” Harumi perks up beside Lloyd and looks at Gandalaria with suspicion, and Gandalaria shrugs. Not making Lloyd or Harumi feel any sense of safety at all.

Lloyd hears Harumi grumble about disliking Gandalaria optimistic personality. He looks over curiously and gets a good look at Harumi, who wears the same outfit as him. Her hair is braided down her back, and there is barely any makeup on her, just highlights now and then. It isn’t anything special; no crazy amount of gel splashed onto her hair to create some intricate style. It’s natural, and it suits her better than the tight bun she always had on.

Harumi notices him staring and raises an eyebrow. “What? You scared of getting lit on fire?”

Lloyd shrugs his shoulder and says, “First time, kind of nervous."

A chuckle escaped her lips, and her features softened into a relaxed expression. This made Lloyd relax as he and Harumi were whisked away down to the bottom level of the Remake Center, which is a gigantic stable. Lloyd's gaze crosses the floor and sees the other pairs of tributes being loaded onto their chariots that are being pulled by four horses. Lloyd's gaze settles on their carriage, which is a dark coal black chariot. Gandalaria and Portia direct them over to the chariot and carefully arrange Harumi and him in their positions and the way their capes drape. They take a step back, and they stare at the two of them until they begin to consult with one another on the way the cape drapes.

Lloyd looks over to Harumi and whispers, “What do you think about the fire?”

“I’ll rip off your cape if you’ll rip off mine,” she says through gritted teeth.

“Deal,” Lloyd says eagerly. If they can rip them off as soon as possible, they can avoid the worst degree of burn. Getting a bad burn before the games would be disastrous for both of them.

“I know we promised Mistake we would do exactly what they said, but I don’t think he considered this angle.”

“Where is Mistake, anyway? Isn’t she supposed to protect us from this sort of thing?” Harumi questions.

“With all the alcohol she carries around her and in her, I guess it’s probably the best for her not to be around any open flames,” Lloyd said, causing Harumi's shoulders to shake as she tried to contain her laugh. Perhaps they are both nervous about the games and the idea of them turning into human torches, so they are not acting sensibly.

The opening music suddenly plays. The massive doors slide open, revealing the crowd-lined streets. The ride lasts about twenty minutes and ends up at the City Circle, where they welcome the tributes, play the anthem, and escort them to the Training Center, which will be their home or prison, what Harumi would call it, until the Games begin.

In a chariot pulled by snow-white horses, the District 1 tributes waved to the crowd as they rode out. A fine mist of golden pigment coated Asphera, shimmering on her skin beneath her white tunic, and the male tribute stood beside her, gleaming with the same vibrancy. The light made them gleam with almost blinding intensity. The crowd roared at their appearance, their cheers a deafening wave of support. District 2 gets into position to follow them, and in no time, they too begin to approach the door. As District 11 rolls out, Gandalaria approaches with a small orb in her left hand. “Here we go!”

She lifted her right hand, pointing at the two as she rapidly murmured words that were a complete mystery to both Lloyd and Harumi. With a burst of light, her hand flared, and a beam of pure energy erupted, engulfing their capes in a fiery inferno. As Lloyd heard Harumi gasp, he turned to pull the cape, but the flames merely tickled his nape, not burning either of them.

Gandalaria lets out a sigh of relief. “It works!”

Her eyes sparkle with excitement as she stares in awe at the two of them, and she says, “Remember, heads high and big smiles. They're going to love you!” With that, she takes a couple of steps back to allow the carriage to go, but suddenly her head perks up and she shouts at them, but the music drowns her voice out. She shouts again and gestures at them.

“What’s she saying?” Lloyd asks as he turns to Harumi, and, for the first time as he looks at her, he is at a loss for words. She’s dazzling with the fire burning brightly behind her. Her white hair seems to glow brighter with the fire.

“I think she said for us to hold hands,” says Harumi as she grabs his right hand with her left, and she glances over to Gandalaria for confirmation. She nods and gives a thumbs up, and with that, their carriage is pushed forward.

The crowd roars with alarm as they appear, but quickly changes to cheers and shouts of “District Twelve!” is heard all around. Every head is turned their way, losing all focus on the chariots before them. Harumi is frozen as the bright light hits her eyes, leaving her a bit dazzled. She catches sight of the large television screen and is shocked by how breathtaking they look. No wonder everyone is staring.

As their capes blazed a trail of fire, the vibrant red flames gradually expanded, creating an increasingly large and lengthy path. The fire danced and changed, creating swirling patterns before ultimately taking the form of a dragon’s face. The red fire started to shift, the roaring flames turning green around the edges as the dragon’s detailed form became clearer. Harumi’s eyes widened, her breath catching at the sight of their cape.

She grows nervous and begins shifting unbalanced, but she feels a light, reassuring squeeze in her left hand that is wrapped in Lloyd's hand. She clutches at Lloyd for balance, finding him as a steady, solid rock to lean on. She musters a smile towards the audience and watches as the crowd's roars grow louder. Shouting their first and last names.

The pounding music and cheers flood Harumi's blood, and she can no longer suppress her excitement. She feels a flicker of hope rising up inside her. With this showcase, surely a sponsor would be willing to choose her. Once they make it to the City Circle, Harumi realizes how tightly she was holding Lloyd's hand. She held it so tightly she thought she might have cut off his circulation. Now that Harumi thinks of it, wasn’t Lloyd’s right hand injured during the reaping? Why is it suddenly healed?

Before she can think about it much longer, the twelve chariots fill the loop of the City Circle. On the buildings that surround the circle, every window is packed with the most prestigious citizens of the capital. Their horses pull them right up to President Garmadon’s mansion, and they come to a halt. The music ends.

The president, a tall, broad-shouldered man with paper-white hair, stands before them up on the balcony. He wears a fully black suit, but what catches Harumi’s eye is the green rose in his chest pocket. He glances down at the tributes, scanning through them, and as his eyes land on them, he stops for a moment. His red eyes pierce into Harumi’s soul, and she can not help but hold her breath as he looks away and begins giving his official welcome.

When he finishes, the national anthem plays. The screen shows each of the tributes, but when it comes to them, it lingers longer on them. Perhaps District 12 will not be the most hated district this time. The chariot circles one final time and disappears into the training center. As the door shuts behind them, they are engulfed by the prep team, who are all blabbing out praises. Harumi glances around and notices the other tributes giving them dirty looks. Harumi can not help but smile innocently their way, which seems to make them angrier.

Gandalaria and Portia are there assisting them in getting out of the chariot. Gandalaria grabs her small orb, and with a flick of her hand, the spell is uncast, and the fire instantly vanishes. Lloyd suddenly lets go of her hand, and she realizes, while massaging her hand, how much she glued herself to him.

“Thank you for keeping hold of me. I was getting a little shaky there,” Harumi says.

“I’m sure they didn’t notice anything but you. You should wear flames more often. They suit you,” he says, giving a soft smile that seems genuine, and an unexpected rush of warmth hits Harumi.

It's unfair. If the two of them are the last remaining, only one will make it out.