A Second Chance

"Get ready, everyone," Lloyd said. It wasn't anything groundbreaking. Just the usual drill of stopping robbers from raiding stores in Ninjago. The only minor problem was that The Mechanic was free, which made it more annoying. His gadgets could turn a simple chase into a battle lasting for hours. But, like always, we had each others back so we could handle it. You know, I used to be the go-to positivity provider, keeping everyone's spirits high. The one who kept the light in the darkest situations, the optimist, all just through panicking. But, you know how life works. We've all had those unexpected twists that hit you when you least expect it. These moments make you rethink everything and leave you wondering if there was a hidden purpose behind it all, or if it's just chaos. Right as we were gearing up to leave, the mailman burst through the front door of the Monastery. He was holding a letter like it was a ticking time bomb. His eyes darted around the room and he was sweating a lot. He always cracked jokes or grumbled about long routes., but it looked like he'd came face-to-face with the Overlord himself. Maybe it's about this mysterious Vengestone Buyer guy? "For Jay," he muttered. Then, without another word, he turned and bolted. It's like he was scared of us; he even nearly tripping over his own feet in his rush to get away. "What's his deal?" Kai looked at me. "Did you steal his favorite doughnut or something, Jay?" "No, I'm not Cole," I replied. "He probably has a lot of work or something. Everyone's busy on a Saturday. It can't be THAT big," I popped open the letter with everyone looking over my shoulder. Subject: Urgent - Legal Matter Dear Jay Walker, We hope this letter finds you well, though we regret to inform you of some heavy news. Cyrus Borg was found dead in his wheelchair at 5:00 A.M. today by his robot daughter, P.I.X.A.L. While the initial assumption was that he died of a heart attack, further investigation revealed signs of a lightning discharge at the scene. No traces of weapons or technical malfunctions were detected, leaving only one possible conclusion. All evidence points to you, Jay Walker, as the prime suspect in this incident. By the right to a fair trial, we are allowing your ninja team to decide whether you are guilty or innocent, as well as the punishment, should it be deemed necessary. The trial will take place in three weeks. In the meantime, to ensure fairness and transparency, you are required to stay in Kryptarium Prison under modified conditions, acknowledging your past heroics and contributions to the safety of Ninjago. On the day of the trial, you will be escorted to the courtroom, where representatives will present the evidence and arguments for your innocence or guilt. Further actions will be determined based on the trial's outcome. We wish you the best of luck in clearing your name. Sincerely, The Ninjago Justice Department ———————————————————————————————————— No way... Cyrus Borg was dead? He was one of the most influential figures in Ninjago. To me, he represented innovation and hope, even before I became a Ninja. He even inspired my childhood hobby of building gadgets out of scraps, something that came handy even now. Enough about me, it's Zane who got hit the hardest by his death. He was Zane's father figure and knew Zane's actual father well. Zane looked up to him in ways I could never imagine. If things stayed on track, he would've become Zane's father-in-law after Zane and P.I.X.A.L. got married. Thinking about it made it feel worse. Someone ripped that future away from Zane, and framed me for it. That's how I ended up in Kryptarium Prison yet again. Except this time, I wasn't here because of some mission or undercover plan. I was here because I was framed for a crime I didn't commit. Well, it didn't feel any different than those other times; in fact, it was even better. My prison stay wasn't at all bad. The guards gave me my own cell, a "perk" of being the lightning ninja. My biggest problems were The Mechanic and Ultraviolet, who loved to remind me of who ruled the prison. Killow, surprisingly, kept to himself. Oh, and Fugidove, my overly enthusiastic neighbor and self-proclaimed biggest fan. He might've asked for my autograph or personal details more times than I could blink, but at least he wasn't trying to kill me. That counted for something. My team tried to convince the Ninjago Justice Department to let me stay with them, but the higher-ups insisted I remain at Kryptarium to "keep things fair." So my friends visited often, bringing my favorite things with them. Kai and Cole came with video games, challenging me to matches that always ended with Kai raging and Cole rolling his eyes. Lloyd dropped off the latest Fritz Donnegan comics, grinning as he handed me the stack. I did my best to help Zane process and deal with Borg's death. He often opened up to me about Borg and how much he meant to him. Nya visited more than anyone, sharing updates about the team and talking about what we'd do once the trial cleared my name: vacations to Metalonia, quiet evenings with her parents in Ignacio. Those visits were how I'd spent most of my day, and the rest would be in my cell, playing video games or re-watching a movie I liked. The trial was two weeks away, but I wasn't worried. The interrogations were routine, and the detective seemed to believe me. My answers were solid, and I thought I'd be back at the monastery in no time, laughing about how badly this frame-up backfired. The guy who framed me must've been terrible at his job if clearing my name was this easy. At least, that's what I thought. Then came the day everything changed. I got moved to the standard prison area for no apparent reason. This meant I had to share space with the other inmates for the first time in weeks. My cellmate, Fugidove, stuck close to me and often tried to get my attention. His endless chatter gave me a strange sort of comfort. He was harmless, if a bit much. But something felt... off. The other inmates avoided me; they often whispered behind my back or shot me wary glances. Nobody tried to pick a fight, which should've been a good thing, but the way they tried to steer clear of me was unsettling at the very least. It was like they knew something I didn't. The ninja didn't visit that day, either; not even any letters or gifts. At first, I shrugged it off. Maybe they were busy with some mission or wrapped in preparations for the trial. But when another day passed with no word, and then another, the silence began to give me chills. A week went by. Still nothing... no visits, no letters, and everyone avoiding me like The Overlord. By then, my paranoia kicked in. I tried to tell myself it was all in my head. Maybe the Justice Department restricted contact to avoid accusations of favoritism. Maybe the team was working behind the scenes to clear my name. Maybe they just didn't want to worry me. But deep down, I knew the truth... Something was wrong. ... ... ... "Hey, Fugidove," I whispered one evening. "Do me a favor." Fugidove's face lit up. "Anything for you, Jay! You want an autograph? Or maybe a-" "No," I interrupted. "I need you to do some recon. Listen to the guards. See if you can pick up anything about why the ninja stopped visiting." His smile dropped. "You think something happened?" "Just... find out," I said. "Please. As your friend?" ... ... ... The next day, Fugidove returned with a sad expression. He glanced around to make sure no one was near us, then leaned in close. "The guards are talking," he whispered. "They say the police found new evidence against you. Something big." I barely held my breath. "What kind of evidence?" "I don't know," he admitted. "But whatever it is, it must be serious. They're saying it's why the ninja haven't been allowed to visit." I leaned back against the cold stone wall. This wasn't random... it couldn't be. My framer was playing the long game. They made a move every time I didn't expect it. They wanted me isolated so that I would eventually lose it. Unfortunately, their plan was working. "What are you going to do now, Jay?" Fugidove asked. "You've planned something, right?" Yeah, I didn't plan anything. I've never dealt with something like this before. It's all way too overwhelming. "Me?" I laughed. "I have no idea. I could be at the monastery right now, playing video games with Kai and Cole, or reading the new Fritz Donnegan comic that came out three days ago. Or spending time with Nya... so many things. Instead, I'm here. Because some guy decided to frame me. Perfect, just perfect! And now it's so much harder-" "Whoa, calm down!" Fugidove raised his hands. "You can definitely do something! As your number-one enemy, I know you didn't become the lightning ninja by just rambling like this!" I blinked at him in surprise. Somehow, this guy was right. Rambling never solved anything. I'd dealt with plenty of impossible situations before, and this wasn't the time to panick. If I wanted out of this mess, I needed to do what I did best... figure out a solution to this problem. "You've got a point," I admitted, running a hand through my hair. "Thanks, Fugidove." "No problem!" he said brightly. "That's what enemies are for!" That night, I thought long and hard about what to do. Rambling wouldn't cut it, but facts might. What they needed was a full breakdown of my actions on the day of Borg's death. Maybe, a timeline that left no gaps for suspicion. I could even help them figure out what the killer did. I already had a theory brewing in the back of my mind. ... ... ... The next morning, I got to work. I recorded a video that explained my entire routine on the day Borg died. I made sure to mention that at least one of my teammates was with me during every activity, so they could confirm my alibi. Then I shared my actual suspicion... a small but deadly piece of tech that could explain the lightning discharge. "I thinl someone used a lightning incubator," I said. "It's a small device that stores electrical energy, but to charge it strong enough to kill someone, you'd need an insanely powerful lightning source. That's way beyond anything I could ever produce." I paused and leaned in to the camera. "Listen, I know my lightning can be dangerous. All the elements are dangerous. But the First Spinjitzu Master made sure we were never given power strong enough to kill or a***e. Even at full force, my lightning can't bypass the protections built into Borg's wheelchair." What else? "His wheelchair was designed to be lightning-resistant. My powers wouldn't even scratch it, no matter how hard I tried. Whoever did this had to be using something completely outside the realm of what we Ninjas are capable of." After doing some more revisions, I handed the recording over to my lawyer. He said it looked good and that it could clear up a lot of the allegations. Finally, I felt like I was making progress. But turns out... it was just a false sense of confidence. Two heavy blows came the next day. First, my lawyer quit. No warning, no explanation—just an abrupt resignation that hit me out of nowhere. It didn't make sense. He'd seemed so optimistic about the case, and I was sure the video would've strengthened my defense. Why leave now? I didn't have much time to process that before the next strange thing happened... A huge fight broke out of prison in dinner. I backed against the wall, quietly trying to go back to my cell. I thought it was just a scuffle, but it was a full-blown fight. I would have tried to intervene, but I didn't want to look worse during the trial. "Hey! Ninja boy!" a voice growled. I turned to see a burly figure walking towards me. "Whoa, hold on," I raised my hands. "I'm not part of this." "Exactly. You think you're better than us?" Before I could respond, a tray flew past my head, and the man lunged. I stumbled backward and barely dodged his blow. "Hey, cool it!" a guard yelled, grabbing the man from behind and cuffing him. I ran to my room and sank into my bed. "What the hell was that?" I muttered. This was the first time a brawl this big broke out in Kryptarium Prison. I know this is farfetched, but did this really have something to do with me? ... ... ... "Why is all this happening?" I muttered to Fugidove. "The lawyer quits, a huge fight breaks out, the ninja disappear... something's not adding up." Fugidove watched me from his bunk. "You think someone's pulling strings?" "It has to be," I sighed. "Whoever framed me isn't just sitting back and waiting for the trial. They're playing the long game." "Then we've got to play smarter. No one outsmarts the lightning ninja, right?" "Right." I couldn't sleep that night, but the next day brought a sliver of hope: the jury representing the other side got dismissed too. Only the ninja and the judge would be representing me. Looks like the Ninja did their job and now, I'd be back home in no time. Fugidove turned out to be better company than I'd expected. Yeah, that guy loved me for no reason, but he was kind of like me: funny, determined, and surprisingly thoughtful. He even shared his dream of becoming a comedian after his release. "You'll be great," I told him one evening. "When you get out, I'll come see your shows. Promise." "Really? You mean it?" "Of course," I said. "Just as long as you promise not to roast me too hard in your routines." "Deal!" he said with a laugh. The night before the trial, I felt good that I made a good friend, even after how weird everything got here. "The trial's tomorrow morning," I told Fugidove. "When I get out, I've got big plans. A vacation to Metalonia and Ignacio with Nya, helping Zane book his wedding venue, playing the new Prime Empire game with Cole, Kai, and Lloyd... Oh, and I still need to read the new Fritz Donnegan comic." "Sounds like a busy schedule," Fugidove smiled. "You're gonna crush it out there, Jay." "Thanks, Fugidove," I replied. "I thought you were pretty annoying at first cellmate, but you're not so bad." "Thanks for being my friend," he said, chuckling. "It's been an honor sharing a cell with my hero." With that, I closed my eyes, ready for what I thought would be a quick trial and a return to normal life. ———————————————————————————————————— Life... so random, yet so meaningful. So joyous, yet so cruel. I've always been fascinated by how much of it seems like luck, kind of like some cosmic being pressing buttons and deciding our fates. One moment, you're soaring high, everything going your way. The next, you're tumbling into darkness, with no idea how you got there. He liked to believe that randomness had sone purpose or plan. In Ninjago, both his and mine, we all did. Prophecies shaped so much of our lives, like the Prophecy of the Green Ninja or the Curse of the Golden Master in his dimension. These foretold disasters and triumphs, but in the end, they always left the ninja stronger, closer, and more united. I used to think that we all were early birds who were ready and prepared for fate's trials. Now, our protagonist's situation is that of an early worm. The outcome may seem obvious, but hey, this is still a bird or worm situation. Still, I can't help but think: sometimes, the early worm survives. Sometimes the bird fails, or the environment changes in the worm's favor. My life feels like that, you know... a thousand possibilities, a thousand strokes of luck that could shape what happens next. Today marks the first step in this journey. The first "environment." The trial is the bird, and Jay is the worm caught in its claws. I can only hope that luck, or perhap his own determination, will tip the scales in my favor. -Lloyd Garmadon _________________________________________________________________ I woke up at 8:00 A.M.. Wow... the guards were already waiting outside my cell. "Well, Fugidove," I shook his hand, "this is it. Stay out of trouble, okay? Make some new jokes too... I don't want to come to your first comedy show and just hear the same ones you've been telling me since I got here." Fugidove smiled. "You got it, Jay. And hey, when you're back on the outside, don't forget about me. Lightning ninja or not, you're still my hero." "That means a lot to me," I said, patting his shoulder. "See you around." I put on my suit - thankfully, they didn't make me wear prison clothes to the trial - and followed the guards down the long corridor. This was supposed to be nerve-wrecking, but I felt surprisingly calm. The trial wouldn't last more than 30 minutes. My team had my back, and the evidence I'd provided should clear things up. Afterward, I'd head back to the monastery, go on vacation with Nya, and start tracking down whoever framed me. Whoever killed Cyrus Borg just made himself an enemy of Ninjago. We'll be tracking him down and putting him in prison. ___________________________________________________________________ "We're here," one of the officers said as the car pulled to a stop. "Watch your step Lightning Ninja. We've got a big crowd." "That sounds great," I laughed. "They're just here to support me. You guys should watch out for the cheers and paparazzi!" I stepped out of the car, ready to meet the crowd. I imagined microphones thrust in my face and reporters asking a million questions to hear my side of the story. I walked closer to the audiences and smiled to let them know I was fine, except... "No more Jay Walker!" "Down with the lightning ninja!" "Execute Jay Walker!" "Banish him!" "What's going on?" I asked. "Why is everyone so mad?" The guards didn't answer. One of them nudged me forward. "We're late for the trial. Hurry up!" I stumbled forward and walked. I wonder why they're so mad. Maybe they only saw the headline: Jay Walker Accused of Killing Cyrus Borg. Perhaps whatever evidence they found was leaked in a way such that I sounded like a madman. Oh well, they'll see that I'm innocent in 30 minutes. The inside will probably be better, since everyone should know what's actually going on. ___________________________________________________________________ The courtroom was even worse. Every seat in the gallery was filled, and everyone showed some sign of anger or disgust. People whispered behind their hands. They looked at me like I was already guilty. Nah, I don't have to worry for much longer. My team would be there. They'd explain everything, and this would be over soon. Judge Toughbutt was at the front of the courtroom with a glare that could pierce steel. I knew about him through his reputation: a firm, no-nonsense man who didn't flinch in the face of lies or theatrics. I walked up the stage and bowed towards him to show my respect. However, he didn't really look happy, as expected. It did feel kind of scary though. "Jay Walker," he sneered. "You seem... unusually happy today." I laughed, leaning forward slightly. "Of course I'm happy. Today's my last day in prison! I promise you, we'll find the person who actually killed Cyrus Borg. Then we can all move on from this ridiculous misunderstanding." Toughbutt leaned back in his chair, letting out a long sigh. "Ah... such confidence and optimism, I see. Almost admirable." Looks like he knows that I'm innocent. "So, how long will this take?" I asked him. "You know, you're serious, but cool, kind of like Nya. You should come over to the monastery sometime. We can play Prime Empire!" He folded his hands. "You know, you almost fooled us into thinking it wasn't you." I blinked. "What?" "Don't play stupid, Jay Walker!" Toughbutt roared. "Tell me, what did you claim in that little video of yours?! How did you say Cyrus Borg died?" I flinched and took a deep breath. "It was a lightning discharge. Something or someone with a massive source of lightning did it, because Borg's wheelchair is made of materials resistant to lightning. Something must have broken through, some kind of incubator, most likely." Toughbutt's lips curled into a mocking smile. "Ah, yes. Shocking similarities to a more brilliant mind's theory, wouldn't you say?" I frowned. "What do you mean?" "Your teammate, Zane came to the same conclusion quite a while before you ever sent us that video." That's a good thing if he came to that conclusion earlier. This is even more evidence that it wasn't me. "Well, he's the smartest there is," I laughed nervously. "I'm glad he came to that conclusion. It's good for me, isn't it?" Toughbutt's smile vanished. He slammed the gavel again, demanding silence. "That's enough, Jay Walker!" His voice echoed through the room. "Your team believes me. The city believes me. You have no defenders here!" Why did it feel like that one time I found out that I was adopted? Maybe he's lying, just trying to get a rise out of me, but he actually sounds angry... angry at a truth, not a lie. "What?" "Give it up, Jay Walker," he sighed. "The evidence against you is overwhelming. Enough that your own team believes me. They've abandoned you, my friend. You're alone." No way... He has to be lying, right? Maybe he just wants to see me gone or something. "That's not true. I know what you're trying to do, and it won't work. My team wouldn't do such a thing. What evidence are you talking about?" Toughbutt leaned forward. "Your video was the final nail in the coffin. You thought it would clear your name, but instead, it revealed just how calculated you truly are." "That's insane!" I cried. "I talked about other things too! I wasn't even near Borg Tower when he died! I have an alibi, my team can confirm it!" "Ah, yes," Toughbutt mused. "You weren't there when he died. That much is true. But the incubator that killed him was planted four days before his death." I tried to piece together what he was trying to say. "Four days before..." Toughbutt's smile now looked sad. "Yes, Jay Walker. Four days before his death. Where were you then?" "I was at Milton Dyer's public event," I said quickly. "He was unveiling a new version of Prime Empire. I stayed for the demo. That's nowhere near Borg Tower!" "Not far enough for a ninja," Toughbutt countered. "Close enough to cover the distance and secure two kills." "Two kills? What are you talking about?" "Ah... they didn't tell you, did they?" "Tell me what?" Toughbutt shook his head with a sigh. "Milton Dyer was found dead a few days after you were sent to Kryptarium Prison. His cause of death was a lightning discharge. Weaker than the one that killed Borg, but unnervingly similar. The same traces, pattern, and the same suspect." My chest tightened. Milton Dyer is dead? As in, he's gone forever? Another one of my childhood heroes was murdered? I got framed for it again? "No," I whispered, shaking my head. "That's... that's not possible." "Oh, it's possible," Toughbutt said. "Your team seems to think so, at least. That's why they stopped visiting you. They've been investigating Milton Dyer's death and trying to make sense of the evidence." Damn it... what do I say? I can't think of anything. My heart is beating too fast. "I... I don't know what to say," I conceded. "That's because you have nothing to say," Toughbutt replied. "The evidence speaks for itself. Now, Jay Walker, let's see if you can come up with a defense that doesn't get crushed under the truth." I stayed silent, unable to form a single coherent word. Just how am I supposed to form a defense to begin with? "Well," Judge Toughbutt smiled. "Shall we continue?" I nodded slowly, too scared to do anything else. "If I recall correctly," he began, leaning forward as if he was enjoying the moment, "There's one scroll of f*******n Spinjitzu left in existence. Am I right?" 'Yes," I said silently. "Zane destroyed the other one after he broke free from General Vex's control." "Ah, yes. That was quite the ordeal, wasn't it?" Toughbutt pondered. "We were getting nowhere with this case... until we got lucky. Someone at the museum decided to run some fingerprints on that last scroll. Turns out it was stolen four days ago." I swear, I was about to cry. I've never felt whatever this type of scare was before. "I wonder why someone would need that much of a power boost. Perhaps... to charge an incubator strong enough to pierce through the materials protecting Cyrus Borg?" Come on, Jay! Why can't I say anything? How is the evidence THIS strong? "Nothing to say, Mr. Walker?" he mocked. "No smart lies? No desperate denials?" I clenched my fists under the table to not fall unconscious, but there was nothing I could say. "So," he continued. "Your team decided to investigate your room with the police. And, oh, did they find plenty hidden in every corner? They discovered stacks of money and detailed notes outlining your plans." "That's all a lie," I whispered before i could even stop it. "According to Zane's analysis, the notes dated back to just after The Overlord's defeat by Lloyd. They detailed years of planning, culminating in actions just days before the incubator was planted to kill both Borg and Dyer." The killer was stalking me since The Overlord? No, that's an underestimation; he was definitely stalking me for a very long time; maybe even before the time I became a Ninja. "And let's not forget the money," he added. "Enough to buy twenty pounds of Vengestone. Care to explain where all of that came from?" "How..." It didn't make sense. None of this made sense. My framer was preparing this for years. He kept planting evidence so perfectly so it looked like I'd been plotting for nearly a decade. He even snuck into my room to plant that money and those notes. But there's no way, right? How could anyone forge notes that dated back so far? Why was he against me so badly? "Surprised, my fellow murderer?" Toughbutt's voice cut through. "It wasn't-" "Once a killer, always a killer," he interrupted. "That's enough for me. Your fate will be determined not by me, but by your fellow Ninja and Master." With a subtle wave of his hand, Toughbutt called them forward. Master Wu led the group by tapping his staff softly on the ground. The rest of the ninja followed with dull faces and zero eye contact. No... They believed him. They believed the allegations. "It's in your hands now," Toughbutt said, stepping aside to let my team and Master Wu take his place. I stared at them. One could say they were just pretending so they could surprise everyone. I could tell by their looks that they were serious. Nya's gaze was fixed on the floor, clenching her hands. Lloyd had an expression I couldn't quite understand — anger or disappointed? Zane looked like a machine processing facts without emotion. Kai and Cole looked somewhere over my shoulder and I couldn't discern their expression. Master Wu stood in the center with closed eyes. It wasn't 7 vs. 1 anymore. It was a 1 vs. 7. No. It was me vs. everyone in Ninjago now.